#everything is becoming a walled garden.

[muttever]

"gentrification is just code for hating white people" my 99% white area is getting gentrified, couldnt possibly get whiter than it already is. white supremacists are so stupid

[blood-injections]

I fucking love the desert I haven't been there in years but between constant danger days thoughts and falling in love with it back when I've visited family there i can just zone out and feel like im standing there im so fucking like spiritually connected to it.

[mister13eyond]

the fun thing about making a comic where i've vaguely appropriated the aesthetics of christianity but entirely eschewing the actual religion is that i get to come up with headcanons for my universe like "hell isn't eternal punishment at all, it's literally just a big meat grinder where people's souls are sent to get converted to demon food. which isn't really all that different than the default option, where a soul is simply released back into the universe and becomes part of the big ocean of mana out there"

[citysuk]

a baby?! | logan howlett

pairing: xmen!logan howlett x pregnant!reader

summary: some headcanons of logan with a pregnant partner.

notes: logan is so husband (not actually married) material 😭😭😭 i needed to write this for my man.

warnings: pregnancy kajsksa (it scares me to death), so much fluffy fluff. no proofread. no use of y/n but no oc neither.

Logan's protective nature would go into overdrive when you are pregnant. He'd be extra vigilant, watching your every move and refusing to let you out of his sight. "You ain't goin' nowhere, darlin'," he'd growl.

Logan would be constantly fussing over you, making sure you're eating right and taking care of yourself. He'd become a regular at the grocery store, stocking up on the necessary supplies for your pregnancy. "Can't have my baby going hungry," he'd say, tossing another loaf of bread into the cart.

Logan would be a pro at soothing you through the uncomfortable parts of pregnancy. He'd rub your back when you had cramps, hold your hair when you were sick, and provide as much comfort as he could. "It's gonna be okay," he'd murmur. "Just a few more months."

Logan would be eager to feel the baby kick and move inside your belly. He would place his hand on your stomach, feeling every little movement, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Hey there, little one," he'd whisper.

Logan would take you for late night walks in the gardens, his arm protectively around your waist, your steps slow and measured. He'd breathe in the night air, a rare peacefulness settling over him. "Can't wait to meet our kid," he'd say quietly, squeezing your hand.

Logan might be a bit nervous about being a father, but he would never let it show. He'd put on a brave front, masking his fears with his usual gruff exterior, but would secretly be reading every parenting book he can find.

As the due date got closer, Logan would become increasingly anxious. He'd be extra cautious, carrying you up and down the stairs and insisting that you rest as much as possible. "Can't have anything happen to you or the baby," he'd say, his eyes filled with worry.

Despite his tough exterior, Logan would be secretly excited about decorating the nursery. He'd take you to every baby shop in town, helping you pick out the perfect crib and the perfect color for the walls (he's the one putting everything together).

When the baby is finally born, Logan would be there, holding your hand, coaching you through the delivery. He'd whisper words of encouragement, trying to hide the tears that threatened to fall. "You're doing great, darlin'."

As soon as he lays eyes on his child, Logan's heart would instantly fill with love. He'd be torn between staring at the baby and checking on you, a range of emotions playing on his face.

Logan would be the ultimate doting father. He'd change diapers, give baths, and rock the baby to sleep. He'd sing lullabies and tell bedtime stories, his voice gruff but his words soft.

Logan would have a love/hate relationship with the baby's first word. When they said "Dada" for the first time, he'd puff up with pride, but then be secretly disappointed that it wasn't "Mama."

He would have a collection of silly nicknames for the baby, ranging from "Cub" to "Little One". He'd sometimes slip into Wolven mode and playfully growl at the baby, making them giggle.

Logan would be incredibly overprotective of the baby. Anytime someone tried to hold them, he'd hesitate and watch hawkishly. He wouldn't let anyone but his partner and the X-Men near the child, always on high alert for any potential threat. "Ain't nobody touchin' my kid, bub," he'd growl, eyes narrowed.

Logan would be the one to handle the late-night feedings and soothe the baby back to sleep. "Can't let your mama get too exhausted," he'd mutter as he rocked the baby in his arms.

Logan would be careful when the baby started walking and crawling, especially around the danger-prone X- Mansion. He'd constantly be on edge every time the baby would try to grab something sharp or crawl towards a dangerous area. "Watch yourself there, squirt," he'd say, scooping them up before they could get into trouble.

Logan would also be a very hands-on father. He'd want to teach the child everything he knows, from fighting to the wilderness. He'd take them camping and teach them how to survive in the wild. "Gotta be tough like your old man," he'd say.

Even though Logan would claim he wasn't the type to get attached to kids (LIAR), he'd secretly have a soft spot for the one you had created together.

[shesacrified]

tag dump: updating tags & new verses!

[tvickiesims]

4t2 Lovestruck Expansion Pack

A fruit of our labour with @platinumaspiration (featuring moral support and useful advice from @lordcrumps 😀) is finally here!

Key features:

138 objects 24 beddings 7 seasonal plants 9 windows 6 doors 10 fences 2 arches 2 columns 69 floors 199 walls

Smoothed out meshes, no shine (except when necessary), quarter tile placeable;

All garden plants are seasonal, have undersides and all original recolors;

Fences are included but don’t show in the collection file because it’s not possible to add them.

Everything that doesn't look like deco and is meant to function - is functional (all lights light up; fans are animated; surfaces have slots; doors, windows and curtains have diagonal versions, book pile is functional, costume trunk is a wardrobe etc etc...);

Thank's to Nikki's perseverance, the guitar is functional too (requires Argon's Custom Instruments mod, included in the archive);

Picnic table was cloned from an object by Inge Jones. In order for sims to sit on the bench, you need either my edited version of Inge's Hidden Picnic Chair (called Tvickiesims_ijHiddenPicnicChair, included in the archive) or the original one from the link above). You'll also need her other mod called "IsChairABooth" (included in the archive).

My edit of Inge Jones' Hidden Picnic Chair was cleaned of some resources, has a new mesh, doesn't contain textures, is easier to grab and click, costs 0 (you already payed for the table) and becomes invisible in live mode (inspired by @lamare-sims's Invisible Kitchen Surface);

Wall fan and water tower reduce bills;

Armchairs and sofas have morphs (Nikki has my eternal gratitude💗);

Heart bed (Vibromatic Nuevo) vibrates and lights up 😏, all thanks to Nikki;

Basic Breakup Double Bed was turned into a blanket (works with @lamare-sims's Unmade Bed mod);

Most wallpapers were cut in half to preserve their patterns (thus their quantity). These walls have clear numbering system and will appear close to each other in catalog;

Romance Rendezvous Bar Back's mirror has wonky reflection. It can't be fixed;

Everything is separated between two collection files - one for buy mode and the other for build mode;

@lordcrumps' shadow file is required for the shadows to work (included, delete if you already have one copy in your downloads folder).

Buy mode:

Build mode:

Hidden Picnic Chair placement for the picnic table (like a normal chair basically, no cheats needed):

Objects we didn't like enough to bother with (not converted):

Compressed, meshes merged with recolors, clearly labelled, picture and collection files are included.

🫶💐❤️Download at SFS❤️💐🫶

UPDATE 19/08/2024

Edited Ash tree and Thunderclap to drop leaves in autumn, smoothed Thunderclap's trunk. Fixed Tri Aviary LoveSymphony Sculpture's one recolor.

UPDATE 20/08/2024

The Flame Of Love Candlestick and Sequence Of Love Candle Bunch had a small shadow issue, it's now fixed.

UPDATE 22/08/2024

Fixed Lovestruck Fountain's price (was set to 0).

[clockwayswrites]

So far this file is called 'birdritch'. Those of you who follow my art tumblr might know where this is going. I needed something light to write, been a low day. There has been zero editing or reading through and it is past 2am, sorry and enjoy! (Don't need any typos pointed out, ty.)

---

“You are supposed to be home.”

Danny blinked up from his work to find Lucius Fox standing in the doorway of the lab. The man had the sport of expression one wore around a child who had just done something disappointing.

(Danny was used to the look, even if it had been a long time since he'd been a kid. Or seen his parents, for that mater.)

“Okay, but,” Danny started, “we agreed that I could start at ten and take my eight hours and one for lunch—”

“A mandatory one hour for lunch away from your desk,” Lucius interrupted.

“Yes, yes, I’ve been doing that! I’ve been eating out on the rooftop garden or even leaving the building and eating out or taking lunch to the park. I’ve been behaving, Lucius, I promise.”

Lucius raised a judgmental brow. “It’s after eight, Danny.”

“What? No. I have an alarm on my phone and everything… okay, well, that only works if my phone is charged.” Danny jabbed uselessly at his phone screen. He followed the charger, which was plugged in, all the way to the wall. He resisted the urge to let his head fall against the wall. “I guess Leslie fried the outlet again or something. I’m sorry, Lucius.”

“It’s fine, Danny,” Lucius said, “but only because, one, I know you have been trying, and two, I am going to buy you the most embarrassing alarm clock I can find and mount it to something in this lab. Now it is late and I am going home and so are you, Mr. Fenton.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Fox,” Danny said and made an exaggerate show of packing up his backpack, dead phone and all.

Lucius gave a little snort at the antics, but left with a ‘get home safe, Danny’. After his boss was gone, Danny took the time to actually make sure everything was in his bag and secure. He still didn’t get why he couldn’t just work late, but apparently WE had something of an insistence of work life balance. According to Lucius, Danny crossed the line too often and so was being kept in line. (Danny didn’t think mention he didn’t have much of a life, literally and otherwise, would help his case.)

Still, Danny mused as he stepped inside the empty elevator, the rules did keep him from becoming his parents. And that was a very, very good thing! Being a mad scientist in Gotham usually ended up landing someone in Arkham. It was just that after the chaos that Danny grew up with, going back to his empty apartment was depressing. It wasn’t as if Danny never got out and did things, it was just that all those things were mostly on the weekend. Most days he just didn’t have a reason to go back to his place.

There was no getting out of it tonight, the great and powerful Fox had spoken and Danny knew better than to try and sneak back up. He lifted his hands over his head, stretching as the elevator descended the last few floors. Oh well, at least it was before ten. He could still grab something on the way home and have a full, warm meal to take his pain meds on. By the pull along his forearm he would need them.

“Night, Bill,” Danny said as he passed the security guard who was on the evening shift. He got another ‘get home safe’ in response and gave a little wave in reply over his shoulder.

Even after the few years in Gotham, it still amused Danny how much everyone wished everyone else some sort of safe travels here. As much as Gotham was a city of hardened realists, there still was so much hope about it. Hope people got home safely, that the Bats would get where they were need in time, that the city would rebuild again and again and again. The undercurrent of hope was so strong that Danny could practically feel it moving through the city like a river.

It had been one of the reasons Danny had taken the job.

He could use hope.

He also had been very careful not to look too closely into it all. While Danny’s early life may have been dominated by the occult, he tried to stay away from it these days outside of the necessary visits to the Realm for his health. As much as the Far Frozen was full of ghost yetis, Frostbite was still a being of science and being there felt more like a cold vacation to his weird relatives than anything else those days.

Danny was actually worried that he was getting close to needing another visit. He shouldn’t, not yet. He wasn’t actually due back for another three months, but the thought of visiting Frostbite had been pulling at the back of Danny’s mind. The most annoying part of it all, is that there wasn’t any concrete reason that Danny felt he needed to go, just a lot of little things: the ache was deeper in his bones, he’d been missing noticing little things, his near constant vertigo was worse, and, oddest of all, he had been feeling chilled.

Maybe he should just take a long weekend and go for a quick visit.

Lucius would undoubtedly approve of the break.

Tomorrow, Danny would ask tomorrow.

(As long as he remembered.)

[sukunas-wife]

What about Y/N and reader having a little baby girl. Sukuna was disappointed at first because he wanted another boy. But she becomes so attached to her papa since she was a baby. Like she sees cuts on his hands (she doesn’t realize he can use RCT yet) and tries to treat his wounds 🥺🫶🏽

~🪽

I though tumblr ate your ask when I scrolled 5 times and could find it and I panicked so hard 😭 So cute 🥺 Im pretty sure we’re going with Anya, but I suck at catching her personality so I’m just going to go with general daughter reactions for this 🥹🤍🤍

(Note: I tried, but I feel like I’m always lacking in the daughter area. Maybe I need to borrow my niece ;-; also, its a little short…) finally back into it tho 😎

Your room fell silent, the cries filling the air were almost piercing. You felt like you knew this was bound to happen. Yuji was a miracle, but your second child was born a girl. You knew Sukuna had only ever cared about having heirs, so in the silence you were on edge of what he would say or do.

It was strange watching him in that moment, she was crying in his arms, he was staring at her with that black expression that always appeared like a frown. He shouldn’t have been so openly disappointed, he knew from the start when your stomach started to swell and he hadn’t noticed until he touched your round belly. The child in your stomach had not an ounce of cursed energy to leave a presence, much less for him to be able to tell what it could be. Yet he held out hope for a boy, even if the lack of his presence was due to a heavenly restriction, he could work with that. But no, the little pink haired girl crying and screaming in his arms was enough to leave him perplexed. He shook his head, handing her over to you, you watched him while you began to breastfeed your daughter.

“Sukuna..” your voice was a whisper followed by a cringe of feeling like your insides were coming out. You wanted to comfort your husband but you didn’t feel right. “Sukuna,” your lower stomach kicked in painful cramps, and everything moved in a rush. Sukuna was pushed out of the room and heard the panic of your caretakers clearly.

—- —- —- —- —-

The day had passed and he sat outside your room, they had persisted he did not pass. So he sat out there waiting until the early hours of sunrise when they brought out his daughter. He took her in his hands, you couldn’t see it past her pink hair and eyes, but to Sukuna she had your face. She was small and round but to him, she looked so similar he was in disbelief you had won over that part of his genes.

He sat there all day, holding her to his chest, while his head leaned back against the wall. His eyes were closed but he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t rest, he could tell you were alive, but it felt like you were just barely there. He looked down in his arms, the little bundle of clothes moving around slightly as your daughter moved, crying out. He wanted to hand it off to a servant as his hand came up to uncover her face more to look at her, that was until her hand slipped out taking a tight hold of finger. She stopped crying for a moment just sniffling, her little nails falling digging into his skin. “Come, stop your crying.” His free arm came to lightly run over his little wrinkly cheeks, “my child.” He was looking at her with such a soft look, the servants found it endearing. It was then he decided he would take care of her as he did Yuji, his child, his pride.

—- —- —- —- —-

Years passed, and you were outside with Yuji. Watching Anya’s big eyes growing in size as an emperor butterfly slowly fluttered around the garden. It had been a month since Sukuna had left on one of his little excursions, you were curious why his supposed two week trip became a month long trip. But you had your 13 year old Yuji who was laying in your lap passed out from his own Ventures of the day and your 3 year old girl keeping you busy, you didn’t feel as lonely as when it was just yourself. “Mama!” Your hand kept running though Yuji’s hair, “Yes sweetheart?” Your little girl came running up to you, “Papa!” You could see the stars in her eyes as she pointed behind her, past the garden. You looked seeing the all too familiar and burly silhouette in the distance. You faked a gasp, “It is papa! He’s almost home. Do you wanna go get him the sweets you made?” She perked up more, “Yeah!” You watched as she ran off inside the house singing a song as her steps padded on the ground. Yuji slowly sat up, eyes squinty as he looked around “Dad?” You laughed while rubbing his head, “Yes.”

You started to get up, Yuji rushing up and offering to help you as you struggled to get up, “my leg is tired from being in one place too long.” You laughed and Yuji grinned, “Sorry’ was tired.”

You simply rubbed his head, “It’s fine, go get your sister, she’s been away for a while already.”

Yuji ran off to find his sister while you tried to ignore the feeling in your legs. You moved closer to the edge of the garden Sukuna was approaching in fresh blood, the closer he became the more you noticed the minor scrapes and cuts on his body. You rolled your eyes with a smile, he shrugged off the top of his robes once he had realised your eyes were trained on his body. It would be a lie to say you didn’t find him attractive in this form of glory, but for the sake of your kids you wouldn’t touch his chest and give him that look. It was when he stood in front of you that your dominant hand pulled your handkerchief from your obi, your free hand cradling his face before cleaning his face of the foreign contaminant.

“I see my husband is home, sturdy, well and revelling in his victories.” You hummed as you finished cleaning his face, pulling him towards you gently so you could kiss him. As you pulled away from what was going to be a soft kiss he pulled you back in to catch your lips longer, “Mhm.” Was all

He hummed against your lips, aside from the hand on your head, two of his free hands came to your waist to pull you closer. Placing your hands on his chest you pushed yourself back a little to stare up at him, “Your little girl has been asking and crying for you to come back. She even made you a little treat everyday for when you arrived.” He hummed, eyeing you, your hands moving to rest on his biceps, “They should be here. I sent her in to retrieve what she worked so hard on.” Your head turned exposing your neck to him, his last free hand coming up to run his nails over the tender flesh, “I’m sure she’ll be back soon enough, as for now I’m craving the feeling of something else.” His hand angled your head away, teeth and lips running over the plush pulse point on your neck, until he huffed at your resistance, “how impervious.” He pulled away, hands sliding from your waist as he looked away visibly upset. You couldn’t fight the smile, “We should go, it might be a waste waiting longer out here then if we go find them.”

—- —- —- —- —-

That’s how you ended up in this situation. Yuji was sitting by his dad with a big smile listening to the story of how he single-handedly levelled another city. Anya was sitting on his lap bouncing along as his body shook when he’d let out a louder laugh or was jostled around with his movements. That was until she noticed the smallest cut on his stomach and let out a loud gasp making all of you turn to look at her.

”Papa! You’re hurt!” Sukuna looked down, seeing the small surface wound that left a red line of broken skin over his side stomach. “Oh, I suppose I a-PAPA NEEDS BANDAGES” she was rushing off feet pattering over the floor as Yuji mumbled, “But.. can’t dad use reverse cursed technique…” he looked confused as he closed his eyes tilting his head to the side. You looked at your husband who sighed with a faint twitch at his lips and placed a hand on Yuji’s head messing up his already tousled hair. “Interesting, I remember another brat with pink hair who did the exact same thing.” Yuji smiled under the weight of his fathers hand.

Anya came running in with a bowl of water spilling everywhere and other things tucked under her little arm. You watched as Ryomen steadied her after she spilt water onto his lap trying to clean his wounds as she had watched you done when your husband would crave your attention and purposely not heal his own wounds leaving you to tend to him. He cringed as more water spilt onto his lap as she un purposely smacked his stomach with a soaking rag rubbing at the small flesh wound, Yuji tried not to laugh as you laughed quietly behind your hand watching as Sukuna tried to help only for Anya to yell at him “No! I can do it papa! You’re hurt!”

The screen was cute as he cringed more at the cold water, relieved when she stopped only to become stressed when she pulled out the roll of wraps. She had seen you use those wraps on Yuji many times when he would become injured or hurt. What she didn’t see was how her father was much larger in size, those tiny wraps wouldn't circle his waist even once.

When they couldn't, Anya became frantic, rushing to jump off her father and run to get more bandages. This was until Ryomen caught her mid jump, “Lemme go daddy! Need more wraps!” He sat her back on his lap, “No you don’t brat, I'll show you something better.”

Anya looked up at her dad with glossy eyes and a wobbly lip, “Press your hands here.” You watched as he guided her small hands to his stomach over the wrap, “Put all your force behind it.” She forced her eyes closed, pressing both her hands against his stomach with all her little muscle. Using the slightest bit of his reversed cursed technique he pulled her hands away, “See.” Her eyes opened slowly and the red mark on his stomach was gone. Her eyes lit up as she looked up at him, “I DID IT!” Ryomen couldn’t fight back the twitch of his lips that pulled into a smile, “You did.” Her hands clasped together with starry eyes, her stare locked on Yuji, “I can fix you.”

Tag List: @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @sakunawifey @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks

@bofadeezs

[evilminji]

You know what idea has always ENCHANTED ME?

Ever since I saw it on a sci-fi show?

The Deadly Magical House That Loves You™. See, it's a house that has become something MORE. Gained sentience. And? Instead of acting out some cheap horror movie jump scares? It digs deep to its foundations, thinks long n hard, and decides on what it WANTS.

And it WANTS?

To be a HOME™.

To TAKE CARE OF somebody. Have LIFE in its halls. Meals at its tables. Joy and laughter bouncing across its walls. So? It lays a trap. Lures people in.

Come live in me~

I am a good home.

I am Free! I am "Safe". I will give you whatever your heart desires.

I care not for morality or laws. Boundaries or taboos. Do you desire? Come, come, be HAPPY~! Live in me! Relax here! Forget about the world beyond these walls. Anything I can not give you, I can bring TOO you! This is a Happy Home.

But, of course, such sentience and pushiness terrifies. People run and flee in horror. The house getting more aggressive. Trying to hold tighter. After all! If they would just STAY for a while, they would SEE! It's so LOVELY here! The would LOVE to live inside them!

But... instead?

They are hurt.

Doors smashed open. Windows broken to escape. Furniture thrown. Their avatar, Jeeves, bashed with heavy things. Why... WHY?! They are only trying to HELP! To LOVE them! Be a good HOME! They grow more and more run down. Starved. Wrathful.

It is, of course, their Obsession. To be a home. They are so very hungry.

When? Who should come along?

But the depressed AF Ghost King! He's been... not TECHNICALLY kicked out. But "things are tense" kicked out. He's tired. His college courses are remote. He can't really AFFORD rent. And everything is just...

He's TIRED.

He wants to cry.

Why... why can't he have ONE good thing? ONE sign everything's gonna be alright?

"Free House!"

Well... I mean... that IS a literal sign. Huh. He flies down. The house notices him. Tries to look as enticing as it can. And? Gasp! I... It's WORKING? This one seems INTERESTED? Quick! Flowerbeds! Look at my flowerbeds! Ooooh, lovely floooowers! A.. and there's probably really nice wood flooring! C'mon. C'moooon!

Danny? Sees a free Lair. Not too far from both Gotham AND Metropolis. Good location. Needs a little fixing up. But I mean... you can't beat free, right?

Is he really gonna do this?

......fuck it. Yeah, let's do this. First house time. He's just glad he carries a sharpie on him most of the time. Scribbles "Sold!" Over the sign then calls Jazz. He's... kinda not sure WHAT he's supposed to pack?

Finds out, post move in, whoop. Sentient Lair. Clingy, clingy, highly desperate sentient Lair. Oof. Guess fixing up the place can be therapy for both of us. Jazz helps.

The house heals. He falls into a routine. Schoolwork, hang out in the garden or the observatory, meals FaceTiming friends or watching videos, naps whenever he wants them. It's... it's so peaceful. Quiet and soothing to his agitated and worn down soul. Like a balm.

House gets him whatever he needs. They're kinda awesome like that. Always seems to have room to fit this or that. He doesn't question it. His brain figuring it works on Zone logic.

He probably SHOULD have.

Because? Things have been going missing. At a slow, steady, pace. Food, technology, entertainment. A building that shouldn't BE there, has been spotted in a wealthy county just outside of Superman and Batman's two cities.

No one can get near it.

It's been getting BIGGER.

Growing, like a tumor, room by room. Floor by floor. The gardens creeping like kudzu, to swallow everything in their path. Yet delivery drivers drop things off. Things they don't remember. On trips they don't recall. People are scared.

Amateur detectives have managed to discover some sort of starlit fae that lives there, along with a human boy.

Justice League Dark has been called in. Are currently standing just outside the slowly creeping property line. A garden statue just hissed at them. The trees are trying to throw acorns. A hushed argument has already broken out. How do they contain the house?

@the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @hypewinter @hdgnj @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @spidori @lolottes

[riboism]

me and my husband

》 pairing: emperor! k.hj x (f) empress! reader

》 wc: 5k

》 plot: In a cold and ruthless empire, the neglected Empress is trapped in a loveless marriage to a possessive and tyrannical Emperor. When he encourages her to take a lover to occupy her loneliness, she begins a forbidden affair with a kind-hearted gardener, discovering a tenderness she’s never known. But when the Emperor learns of her growing feelings for the gardener, he becomes consumed with jealousy, rage, and betrayal, prompting him to realize his conflicted feelings and take matters into his own hands.

》 content: royalty au, possessive! hongjoong, lots of plot before smut, affair, low key angry sex, cunnilingus, backshots, breeding, creampie, verrryyyy toxic ;)

》 a/n: this is heavily inspired by the Hulu drama, ‘The Great’, and that goddamn hongjoong mv…

🎧 me and my husband by mitski, all mine by brent faiyaz, heartless by the weekend, closer by nine inch nails, why do you love by hongjoong

You paced back and forth in your large bedroom, the quiet ticking from the grand clock slowly maddening you until your patience evaporated. Mingi is exactly eight minutes late. You wouldn’t have noticed his short delay if it was any other night, but tonight you were particularly desperate. It was only a couple of days before you’d start bleeding again, and your body craved to be taken care of. The frustration made you so hot and flushed to the point that you felt it unnecessary to apply any color to your cheeks. 

Exasperated, you fell back into the softness of your bed. Despite his occasional lateness, you had to admit—having a lover had its perks. At first, the idea felt like a betrayal of everything you stood for, a compromise of your values. But Mingi had been nothing short of a blessing. The loneliness of the palace had once felt suffocating, but his presence brought a much-needed light. He listened when no one else would, his warm gaze making you feel seen in a way the Emperor never had. And when words failed, he used his skilled fingers to help ease away your tensions. 

It was the Emperor’s idea for you to take a lover. Yes, you and your husband had sort of a dysfunctional marriage. When you first learned that the young Emperor was going to ask for your hand, you were quickly consumed with giddy daydreams of romance and devotion, the kinds you read about in books when you were just a little girl. You were ecstatic to have his companionship until reality struck you hard and fast. The hastily arranged wedding had barely concluded when you finally met him—a man who was far from the Prince Charming you had imagined. The dreams of a happily-ever-after faded quickly, replaced by the cold, bitter truth. You were merely another pawn in his political game, and he was far too absorbed in his own indulgences to care about yours.

Emperor Kim Hongjoong was a tyrant draped in silk and gold, a man whose cruelty knew no bounds. He ruled with a reckless disregard for his people. While his subjects froze to death in yet another senseless war, he surrounded himself with decadence—hosting opulent feasts that spilled into debauchery and indulging in nights of ecstasy with his concubines. The Court tread lightly around him, knowing full well he was a volatile storm, ready to unleash fury over the slightest inconvenience. Beheadings became as common as whispers in the palace halls, his wrath fueled by whims and dulled by the haze of opium that clouded his mind. Rational decisions—military or otherwise—were a rarity, yet the Court still pushed him toward one expectation: securing heirs to continue his blood-soaked legacy.

You quickly came to understand your place within the palace walls. Though you bore the title of Empress, in his eyes, you were nothing more than a vessel for producing heirs to secure the bloodline and strengthen the Empire.

Intimacy with the Emperor felt like a cold and mechanical ritual devoid of any tenderness or affection. During your ovulation, he would visit your chambers to complete the act, barely sparing you a glance as he did. There was no care or affection—just the unceremonious deposit of his seed before he rose and left without a word. More often than not, you were left lying on your back, alone in the dark, listening to his footsteps echo down the hall as he sought solace in the arms of his concubines. Whatever happened between you two during those nights was never meant to bring any joy or passion; it was simply a transaction, a duty to the Empire.

What stung most was how he never saw you as he did those other women. To them, he gave smiles, laughter, and sometimes even whispers of affection—crumbs of humanity that you yearned for but never received. And yet, despite his cold indifference, you couldn’t help but crave his attention. You told yourself that if you waited, and if you worked hard enough, he might one day change. Maybe, just maybe, he would soften, hold you, and love you the way you had once dreamed.

But with each passing day, the hope grew dimmer. He only seemed to drift further away, leaving you to grapple with the emptiness he left behind.

“I don’t have time,” the Emperor said curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He shoved the last of his rice into his mouth and rose swiftly from the table. He always ate with such haste in the mornings, as though the very act of sitting with you was a burden he couldn’t wait to escape.

“All I’m asking for is a short walk in the garden. Please, I’m so lonely here. Can’t you spare even a moment for your wife?” you pleaded, your voice trembling with the weight of your desperation.

He adjusted his trousers with a practiced indifference, striding toward the tall, imposing doors without so much as a glance in your direction. Just as he reached them, he let out a dismissive scoff.

“If you’re so bored, find yourself a lover.”

The Emperor had said many cruel things to you before, but this? To suggest such a thing as an affair to his wife? It was beyond comprehension. That very day, you found yourself pacing the palace garden, his vile words echoing endlessly in your mind.

Was he truly that done with you? you wondered bitterly. Did he care so little for you that the thought of you lying with another man didn’t stir even the faintest flicker of jealousy? No, he had encouraged it. Not out of love, but because your presence was a little more than an inconvenience to him. The realization gnawed at you. He treated you with less regard than his concubines, women he showered with affection, attention, and gifts—things you had only ever dared to dream of.

Your sadness was written across your face, too raw to hide, even when the tall, unassuming gardener approached with cautious concern. His voice was soft as he asked if you were alright, his eyes kind in a way you hadn’t experienced in ages.

And it was in that moment, standing before Mingi, that you decided. If the Emperor’s cruelty extended so far as to push you into the arms of another, then so be it. You would take his advice.

—

A loud thud at the door jolted you upright. That must be Mingi, you thought, heart racing as you leapt out of bed. Hastily, you grabbed the bottle of floral perfume on your nightstand, spritzing a delicate mist onto your neck. You smoothed your lacy nightgown and approached the door on light feet, careful to keep your movements discreet—though you knew the palace walls were full of watchful eyes, and rumors of your midnight visitor were no secret.

But the giddy flutter of butterflies in your stomach twisted into a cold, heavy weight the moment you opened the door.

Standing there, framed by the dim hallway light, was not Mingi.

“Emperor,” you murmured, quickly bowing to mask your shock.

Hongjoong’s gaze slid over you like a blade, lingering far too long on the delicate lace of your nightgown. His lips quirked upward in a faint smirk, amusement glinting in his dark eyes. You flushed under his scrutiny, the sheer fabric suddenly feeling like a cruel betrayal.

"All dolled up," he remarked, voice low and taunting. "Quite the effort for someone who isn't me."

You widened the door hesitantly, feeling cornered, as though you had no choice but to let him in. The Emperor stepped inside with an air of entitlement, his presence suffocating in the small space. As he moved further into the room, you instinctively leaned out into the hallway, glancing left and right, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mingi—wanting to warn him somehow.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about the gardener,” Hongjoong said casually as if reading your thoughts. “I sent him away.”

You froze mid-step, the blood draining from your face. “S-sent him away?” you stammered, dread pooling in your chest.

Hongjoong threw his head back and laughed, a sharp, grating sound that only deepened your unease. “Relax,” he said, waving his hands in mock reassurance. “I didn’t kill him. Tempting, sure, but no. I figured that might upset you.” His words were flippant, but there was a gleam in his eyes that made your stomach twist. The reassurance didn’t land—it only left you more anxious.

Without invitation, Hongjoong strolled further into your chambers and collapsed onto your bed with an exaggerated sigh, as though he owned every inch of the space—and, of course, he did. His dark eyes roamed over you unabashedly, lingering on your bare, glistening legs and then rising to your barely covered chest.

“You look nice,” he said, his voice thick with amusement. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in that nightgown before. Did I buy that?”

You didn’t respond, refusing to acknowledge his comments. Your thoughts were racing, consumed with worry for Mingi. Where was he? Was he safe? What did Hongjoong do to him?

The Emperor sat up, his expression shifting into something more serious. “I didn’t kill your boy toy,” he said bluntly. “I’m simply relocating him. He no longer works at the palace.” He patted the mattress beside him. “Now, sit down.”

Your heart plummeted to your stomach. The room felt colder, heavier. You wanted to scream, to hurl every ornate wedding gift he had ever given you in his face, to demand answers at the top of your lungs. But you swallowed it all—the anger, the fear—and silently moved to sit beside him. It had been so long since you were this close to him, and you needed a moment to size him up before doing anything rash.

“Why did you send him away?” you asked quietly, the tremor in your voice betraying your attempt at calm.

“Because I decided I don’t want to share pussy with a lowborn. You couldn’t have at least gone for the Chancellor? He’s always ogling at your breasts. Doesn’t carry much in length, but at least he has status.” He answered offhandedly.

“What?” You flustered. 

Hongjoong threw his head back in exasperation before turning sharply toward you, his expression a mixture of annoyance and condescension. “Everyone in the Palace knows about you two,” he began, his tone dripping with disdain. “The Court has been whispering that your little gardener was falling in love and planning to run away with you. He made a mockery of me. Me. So yes, I had to get rid of him. You should be grateful I didn’t have him beheaded. That imbecile.”

His words left you reeling. Was he telling the truth, or weaving lies to justify his cruelty? It didn’t make sense. He had ignored you for so long, humiliated you at every turn, yet now he took offense when you sought solace elsewhere? And with his permission, no less?

“I don’t understand,” you said, your voice trembling with both anger and confusion. “You told me I could have a lover.”

Hongjoong chuckled darkly, the sound grating against your nerves. “I meant a fuck buddy,” he corrected, his smirk widening. “Not a boyfriend. But anyway, I take it back. You can’t have either.”

Hot anger coursed through your veins, lighting every nerve on fire. How dare he? Who was he to take the one shred of happiness you had and discard it on a whim? You rose to your feet, fists clenched, jaw tight. “Bring him back. Now,” you demanded, your voice firm despite the trembling in your chest.

His smirk deepened, his gaze alight with a maddening amusement. He leaned back leisurely, resting his weight on one arm as if your anger were nothing more than entertainment to him. “No,” he said flatly, his arrogance palpable.

The sheer audacity made your head spin. You had always tempered your tone around him, swallowed your words out of respect—or fear—but this was too much. “If you don’t bring him back to me,” you said, your voice rising, “I will leave. And I will never come back.”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed, though his smirk remained intact. “If you leave,” he said with maddening calm, “I’ll send my men to every corner of this Earth to find you and bring you back to me.”

“Then I’ll jump to my death!” you spat, your voice trembling with both fury and desperation.

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head mockingly. “Do you need my assistance opening the window? They’re awfully heavy,” he said, his tone laced with derision.

It hit you then—the futility of it all. There was no winning with him. Every word he uttered, every action he took, was final. Your defiance crumbled as hopelessness set in. Your knees buckled, and you sank to the floor, staring blankly at the carpet.

My Mingi, you thought, your heart aching in the hollow silence that followed. If he had truly loved you, if he had asked you sooner, you wouldn’t have hesitated to run away with him. But now…

A sudden touch startled you. Hongjoong’s thumb brushed away a stray tear from your cheek before gently gripping your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. He studied your face with an almost detached curiosity, sighing as if your sorrow was an inconvenience.

“Oh, cheer up, dear,” he said, his tone mockingly light. “You don’t need that filthy cock to sit on. You have me.”

The sheer calmness in his voice, the audacious cheerfulness of his words, was infuriating. It gnawed at you, his willful ignorance of your pain more provoking than all his cruelty combined.

You pushed his hand away. “At least that filthy cock could make me cum.” 

You braced yourself for the sting of his hand against your cheek, but it never came. Instead, the Emperor’s lips curled into an amused smirk, as though your defiance was nothing more than a child’s tantrum to him. “Well, If you’d dropped that attitude and let me into your chambers from time to time,” he said with a gleam in his eye, “you might have seen my full potential.”

His words dripped with arrogance, and your stomach churned in disgust. The memories of the handful of nights you had spent with him were distant and cold, fleeting instances of duty you had long since abandoned. After meeting Mingi, you had shut your doors to the Emperor completely, forsaking the obligations of producing an heir as you allowed yourself to be swept away in the warmth of another’s embrace.

“Just get out,” you snapped, your voice brittle with anger and exhaustion.

Hongjoong tilted his head, studying you as though you were a puzzle he was just now beginning to solve. He hadn’t expected this level of fury—at least, not from you. A flicker of realization crossed his face.

“Oh,” he said, a note of amusement creeping into his tone. “Don’t tell me you loved him.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The truth sat heavy in your chest, threatening to burst free. It wasn’t just lust that had drawn you to Mingi; it was the way he saw you, the way he listened, the way he made you feel alive. You cared for him deeply, even when it terrified you, even when the impossibility of your circumstances loomed over you like a storm. There were nights when you dreamed of a life with him, though, they were only dreams, you had to remind yourself.

Hongjoong sighed, a long, dramatic exhale as he leaned forward, his movements slow and deliberate. His lips brushed the shell of your ear, his voice low and venomous. “Oh, you don’t get it, do you, honey?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “You can’t be with anyone else. You belong to me. Your mind, your voice, your lips, your breasts, your legs...”

His fingers brushed against the softness of your thigh, a teasing touch that made your skin crawl. His hand lingered there for a moment, as though threatening to move closer, before retreating entirely. “...The very essence of you is mine,” he said, his tone as cold as it was possessive. “And the next time you foolishly find another hard cock to bounce on, remember this: I graciously spared your beloved lowborn this time. I let him walk out of here with all his limbs intact. But next time?” His voice darkened, a shadow falling over his words. “I won’t be so kind.”

The silence that followed was deafening, his threat hanging heavy in the air.

Without another word, the Emperor rose to his feet, smoothing out his clothes with maddening calm. He strode to the door with the same regal air he always carried, pausing only to glance back at you with a mocking bow. “Goodnight, my dear,” he said lightly, as though he hadn’t just shattered your world.

Then he was gone, leaving you trembling on the floor, a hollow shell of anger, fear, and heartbreak.

—

It had been months since your last encounter with the Emperor. Tonight, he was returning from a diplomatic trip overseas. All morning, Courtesans and nursemaids visited to remind you of your wifely duties. They whispered about your dwindling fertility window, urging you to try for a child before it was too late.

You prayed he’d be too exhausted from his journey to come to your chambers. But you knew better. Time away from the Palace always left him restless.

You hadn’t forgiven him for sending Mingi away. Of course, he hadn’t apologized—he never did. Hongjoong likely believed that with time and distance, you’d forget. That you’d fall back into your role, returning to him as if nothing had happened. But the lack of replies from the letters he’d sent you during his absence told him otherwise.

Resigned to your fate, you lay on the grand bed in your best nightgown, the silk clinging to your skin. Waiting. At least it would be quick. The Emperor never lasted long anyway.

The heavy doors swung open, and Hongjoong entered, still wearing his elaborate robe. You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the ceiling as he began to undress. You braced yourself, mentally preparing for yet another empty, soulless night.

Hongjoong broke the silence. “I take it you’re still angry I took your toy away?”

The arrogance in his voice made your skin crawl. You hated how he spoke of Mingi, reducing him to an object. A plaything. As if you hadn’t cared for him deeply. As if Hongjoong’s own heart wasn’t capable of understanding such feelings.

“Are you going to talk at all tonight?”

You stayed calm, swallowing the retort burning in your throat. “I’m not here to talk, remember? We have a duty to fulfill.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, you make it sound so dull. Like we’re here to do paperwork or something.”

You didn’t answer. He busied himself removing his rings, laying them on the table beside you. His gaze landed on a pile of familiar envelopes, all sealed, untouched, and forgotten.

“You didn’t even bother opening these?” he asked, his voice tighter than before.

You sighed, unmoved. “Were they urgent?”

Hongjoong clenched his jaw, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his face. “No,” he admitted, quieter now, “but…”

He trailed off, his confidence suddenly faltering. You had no idea how much those letters meant to him. Each word, each line, was an attempt to ease the guilt that haunted him during his travels. He had replayed the memory of your tears over and over, trying to drown his regret in ink and sentiment. Yet now, staring at the unopened letters, he realized it had all been for nothing.

“You know, you hurt me too,” he blurted.

That caught your attention. You sat up, furrowing your brows. “Me?” you echoed, incredulous. “How? By doing the very thing you told me to do?”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

Your laugh was sharp and bitter. “Why? Because only you get to sleep with other people?”

Hongjoong scoffed, brushing off your words with a wave of his hand. “What I do is different from what you did.”

“Different?” you snapped. “How? How is it any different?”

He stopped pacing, turning to face you fully. His voice dropped, quieter but seething with rage. “Because I don’t fall in love with them!”

The room fell silent, his words ringing in your ears.

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. Was he more hurt over the possibility that you had feelings for Mingi than the fact that you’d shared nights with him? The absurdity of it made your head spin.

But then he said something that chilled you to the core.

“Seeing you cry over that bastard…” He paused, his voice tight with unspoken pain. “It enraged me. I wondered—would you ever cry for me like that?”

His admission hung heavy in the air. For the first time, you saw something raw in his eyes.

“You must be drunk,” you said quietly, hoping to diffuse the tension. “Come, lay down—”

“I’m as clear-headed as I’ve ever been,” he interrupted, his tone sharp but slightly slurred, betraying the truth. You noticed his steps wavered as he began pacing the room again, the hem of his robe brushing unevenly against the floor.

His words came faster now, laced with frustration and desperation, his worries of masking his inebriation quickly dissolving. “When you married me, you promised me your loyalty. It didn’t matter who you spent your nights with, as long as you returned to me. But instead, you gave him your heart.”

You stared at him, stunned. His jealousy, his possessiveness—it was suffocating. Yet there was something almost pitiable in the way he looked at you, as if your betrayal had cracked something deep within him.

He stopped pacing, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “You belong to me,” he said through his wine-stained lips, his voice low and firm. “Your mind. Your body. Your soul. Your loyalty. Your love. All of it. And I’ll be damned if I ever let another man take what’s mine.”

Before you could even digest all of what he said, Hongjoong climbed up on the bed, nestling himself between your legs. Your breath hitched upon feeling the softness of his lips trace over your inner thigh, planting slow and messy kisses all over your soft skin.

“W-what are you doing?” You asked flabbergasted, not used to seeing him in this position. 

His arms wrapped from under your legs, locking you in place. “Showing you my full potential.” 

—

Your body tensed with each flick of his tongue. You held back your moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but your sweat coated breasts and your shaky, quiet breaths betrayed you. He held onto your thighs as he tasted you, gliding his tongue in tortuously long and slow strokes. 

When you looked down, you were in awe at his focus, his brows furrowed in concentration, and saliva running down his chin as he savored you like a long-awaited meal. You felt trapped under him. Each time you got closer, he could sense it in the way your body braced itself, and he’d slow down again, ghosting his tongue over your parted folds, making you mentally curse him for stealing yet another rush of relief from you. 

You had reached your breaking point, and although you remained utterly mute, Hongjoong understood your frustration. Like an answered prayer, his tongue swirled briefly around your throbbing nub, before finally wrapping his wine-stained lips over your aching bud. 

As he suckled at your clit, you had no choice but to gasp out loud, your dry voice cracking as he consumed you. He purred into your cunt, smug with himself for finally breaking you. His craving for you grew even stronger, and he pulled you closer to him, his hips now rutting against the mattress. 

“You taste exquisite, Empress,” he breathed into your cunt, which didn’t fail to send goosebumps all over your exposed flesh, “Need to taste your cum next.” 

What felt like hours of edging had finally caught up with you, and your breathing started to get shaky again. Your hands slipped into his dark strands, holding onto them tightly as your hips jerked up, the fire in your abdomen finally snapping as you cried out, your milky white essence dripping onto Hongjoong’s tongue just as he desired. 

You collapsed back into the mattress, your vision blurring as he continued lapping at your sensitive cunt. He drank up every drop from your puffy, tender lips, his hand resting at your stomach to help bring you down from your high. You melted into the mattress as his lips shifted from your dripping cunt to your inner thigh, kissing and biting at your soft skin while he waited for you to steady your breathing. 

You looked down and met his deep, velvety gaze, his glassy eyes and slick-coated lips hitching your breath. In this moment, you took each other in. His once neatly top-knotted hair now loosely hung over his forehead, all roughed up from when you tugged and pulled at it earlier. You were disheveled yourself, your pretty lilac nightdress now sweat-drenched, the loose strands of your hair stuck to your rosy-red cheeks. He watched silently as your breasts which were barely covered by the hem of your dress, most likely hiked up from your convulsions, heaved up and down. 

You were a vision unlike anything he’d ever encountered. He had just returned from a journey that took him across vast snowy peaks and through valleys kissed by the first blush of cherry blossoms. Yet, the sight of you lying here, draped in soft shadows and the moonlight shining in from the window, surpassed the beauty of every natural wonder he’d seen. You were alluring—a temptation so profound it made the grandeur of the world seem pale in comparison.

"So foolish," he murmured, his voice low and thick as he hovered over you now, the heat of his breath brushing against your skin. His face lingered just a breath away, his eyes drinking you in. What he wanted to say—how foolish he’d been to neglect you, to waste time when he should have been losing himself in you—caught in his throat, heavy and unsaid.

Instead, he let his actions speak. His head dipped slowly and his lips found yours, claiming them with a hunger that had been simmering for far too long. You met him with equal fervor, surrendering completely to the kiss and tasting your sweetness on his lips, pulling him closer, tighter, as though you could make up for all the lost time in that single, stolen moment.

“Get on your knees,” He instructed after pulling away from the kiss, a tinge of impatience and restlessness painted in his voice. You obeyed his order, pivoting yourself from your back to your hands and knees. 

His hands gripped your hips eagerly, securing you in place as he lined himself up with you, giving his throbbing shaft a few pumps before sliding into your wet walls. You inhaled sharply as he entered you, his hard cock stuffing you so deliciously that you were forced to make a strangled moan, grasping at the silky sheets from under you to brace yourself. 

You had never been in this position with him before. It was always missionary as it was the best option for ensuring a successful pregnancy, but from this angle, his cock hit you so deep, his balls swinging and smacking into your aching clit as he thrust into you harshly. 

Your loud and lewd screams left Hongjoong teeming with ecstasy. He smirked as he watched you from behind, her royal highness, who was always so primmed and polished, so graceful in the way she walked and spoke, now babbling sinful moans, her makeup running, her hair tousled, covering him with her sticky juices as she cried and begged him to go faster, harder. He felt honored to see you like this. 

The wine made Hongjoong fatigued, and he slowed down his pace, which was a little too slow for your liking. Your brain had already turned to mush, and your hips started to have a mind of its own, forcing you to fuck yourself on his cock to reach your high faster. Hongjoong cooed as he watched you, his cock throbbing at the sight of you taking matters into your own hands. 

“You forget yourself, Empress,” He teased, placing a hand on your mid-back. He caressed your skin, watching your stretched-out pussy take him whole. 

“Just shut up and cum inside me already,” You huffed, your composure crumbling, giving way to raw frustration. 

A spark ignited in his eyes, a glimmer of something untamed and primal seeping through. His weariness evaporated and a renewed vitality coursed through him. He lifted you and pulled you into his chest, his hand sliding around your neck, fingers tracing your pulse before tightening just enough to make your breath hitch.

“Want my cum?” He rasped into your ear, lips smashed against your hot skin, his hips never letting go of that rough pace, “you want it?” 

“Yes, p-please!” You choked, your salty tears falling onto your reddened lips, “Want it all!” 

His grasp tightened around your neck, fucking into you so raggedly now that there was a moment he thought he could break you. “Gonna take it all?” He growled, “All of me in that little pussy? Who’s fucking pussy is this?” 

Your head swam, a dizzying mix of exhilaration and the sharp, intoxicating absence of air. The rush of excitement left you lightheaded and entirely consumed by the moment. 

“Yours!” You cried out, “It’s all yours!” 

With a satisfied smirk, he watched you dissolve in pleasure, finally letting go of your throat as he shot his load into you, a mixture of your wetness and his creamy white dripping out of your cunt. You felt all your strength leave you as you came down, letting yourself be held up by Hongjoong, your head nestled between his chin and shoulder. 

“That’s right baby,” he pressed a few gentle kisses on your sweaty temple as he pumped his cum back into you, pushing deeper and deeper to make sure you don’t waste a single drop of him, “Your mine, all mine…”

a/n: feedback is appreciated

[gallusrostromegalus]

A Miracle In The Night

Sometimes, you get an idea for a lightly fucked up short story. TW: Death, mild gore, Plot Twist :)

---

She travels through the night And listens

Some might call her home dark and cold and akin to the lowest levels of hell, But their heaven burns her eyes and skin and her very breath To her, The Endless Night is Paradise

The whole world was like this once, in the very beginning The Divine Darkness which contains the potential for every tragedy and miracle and everything in between, and she is blessed  to travel through the gardens of creation.

The Night created everything, even God, who lives in the burning world and blesses the sinless beings of the night with the very force of life.

But not even Paradise is free of suffering.

It should be this way, of course- nothing would ever happen otherwise. Everything that happens is a miracle. It’s just a question of who the Miracle is for.

There will be a Miracle tonight. She can feel it- the tension is electric across her skin, gut tightening, every sense on edge.

Starvation leads to such peculiar sensitivity.

She’s on the verge of death-  It should be this way, otherwise nothing could be alive. But she’s closer to the edge than usual.

It’s been so long since she felt the Burning Love of God within her. The delicious taste of good fortune in the night Chasing ecstasy with a racing heart and feeling her body fly The heat in her belly, seeping out through her until it filled her with the Divine Warmth of God’s Love.

It’s been so, so long since she’s eaten.

It’s been uneasy- the breathing of the world has been unsteady of late- too early and too late, out of time like it has become ill and all things suffer for it. There is nothing to partake of in her usual hunting grounds, so she has traveled far, far from home, into a brighter and hotter part of the night.

Here, the protective wall between her and the burning world exists only in scattered fragments, and strange and monstrous things traverse the thin veil between their worlds.

Here, the eternal night has been invaded by noxious, screaming beasts from the burning world above.  They race with their bodies straddling the barrier between their worlds, far faster than anything has the right to fly, howling with a deafening voice that can be heard for hundreds of miles.

It’s a problem because she cannot hear the songs of her prey.

Everything sings, if one will listen. The high, chiming pings of the smallest stars flashing with bioluminescence around her. The long, low songs of the fire-breathers, who hunt here in the abyss for one of her oldest brothers, but return to the barrier and briefly cross it to breathe before they return. Even the earth sings- the moan and crack of her body as she shifts her weight, the almost invisible inhale and exhale of her seasons. She even builds great musical instruments of ash and smoke and an even hotter burning than the world above, singing the tale of the first days of creation in honor of the endless night.

But the behemoths do not sing.

They scream and scream and scream and their piss reeks of vile poison and overexertion. Almost like the way an injured animal can put on a miraculous turn of speed to escape pursuit. What might be pursuing such behemoths is an awful but intriguing consideration. Perhaps the behemoths are the little darting beings of the burning world, and the thing they flee the equivalent of herself. She’s seen it before, when the moon is high and she travels up to the barrier, and the little dancing bodies leap across the barrier to avoid her.

To that end, she can only wish her counterpart good hunting- both in the sympathy between one apex predator and another, and the hope that maybe it will get better at catching the behemoths before they come into her world.

Still, Where there is disturbance, There is also opportunity.

There are rumors from those that live closer to the barrier that the behemoths piss poison but shit out bounties- the wastes of these things are food direct from the burning world, where God lives, and that waste is full of The Divine Warmth of Life. The direct waste is devoured by the smallest and fastest things first, but when they are clustered at their feast, they are easier for the larger beings to partake in, and so too larger things than they until even her most beautiful borderland sister with the belly pale as the moon is now as round as it, fat with the blessing of pups.

So she has ventured as close as she dares to the world of her sisters in hopes of finding the rumored prey so full of the Burning Love of God.

She needs it. She can’t live without it.

A Miracle will happen tonight.

Whether for her or the crawling lives of the deepest night remains to be seen.

She follows the terrible screaming song of the behemoth in silence and prays for a miracle. She does not sing praise when she prays. She preys when she prays.

The highest reverence to The Divine Night is to Listen. To travel in silence, and take in all the songs of The Night.

So she makes herself silent and listens and listens and listens to the screaming song, hoping that somewhere in the noise, she can hear the soft voice of God.

This time God answers with a voice like thunder.

It really is like being too close to a lightning strike, the way the noise viscerally passes through her and lights up every nerve, teeth gritting and body thrashing as she feels the voice of God the same way she feels the body of a lover against her own.

The scream of the behemoth changes. It sputters, then pitches wildly, low visceral injury and high keening pain, like the fire-breathers when they try to hunt the largest of her brothers and become prey themselves.

Oh, what a beautiful song to something like her.

She aches, weak and tired, but hope and joy surge through her and she forces herself to move at speed, even for all the energy it takes, because perhaps the miracle is for her tonight- 

She flies as fast as she can towards the dying behemoth, as does every brother and sister and ancestor and descendant, all as desperate to feast upon God’s Love as she- all of them race forward but then up, and up and up up to where the Behemoth is sinking into their world- It has run upon a fragment of the protective barrier hard enough to tear it's side and break it's back. There is the terrible acrid scent of it’s noxious  piss and if she were not on the verge of starvation it might be enough to put her off the feast.  

But she flies on and up- even weak with hunger she is one of the largest and fastest of her family when she needs to be, so she is the first to smell other strange things from the behemoth- burning flavors that sting her nose and mouth, as well as sweet things that confuse intrigue, and-

Oh. Oh, GOD!

It’s blood but nothing like any blood she’s tasted before- it’s actually HOT in the night, burning with the warmth of the other world even this far from it’s origin, rich and fatty and metallic like the flesh of a fallen fire-breather but even more so.  She spreads her wings and sways her hips and spine to fly as fast as she can, the way a lover pursues her- full of nothing but adoration and a desire to make their bodies as one.

Then in a beam of moonlight, she sees the first of the bodies from the burning world.

The frenzy at the behemoth is a feast for the ages, from the exultant chorus above, and the fact that even with every member of her family for a hundred miles around at the feast, there are so many bodies to feast upon that a body is falling past the festivities to her, uneaten and whole.

What a strange and beautiful body it is.

She pauses, circling it even as her mouth and gut ache for it, studying the being from the burning world.

It’s hot, hotter than any body she’s ever felt before, even though it is very definitely dead, as unsuited to breathe the night as she is to breathe fire. Its wings are long and twist strangely, like the tentacles of her brothers that are hunted by the fire-breathers. It’s awkwardly shaped, like the crawling five-winged creatures of the mud, but not quite.  There is an almost unsettling familiarity to its symmetry.

The fire-breathers say they used to live in the burning world, but returned to the night, and that all the beasts of the burning world had too once come from the night. It had sounded absurd, but looking upon the form of this being now, she wondered.

Well. Only the one thing to do, really.

Gently, she approaches the being, opens her mouth to embrace it, and welcomes it home to the night.

There is no love like the love the predator feels for its prey.  It is reverence made flesh- O holy being, oh virtue to pursue and make one’s own.It is the flesh made reverent- Please, little being of the burning world, let her love you as she loves her own children, the weight of your body deep within her own. 

There is no gratitude like the gratitude a predator feels for its prey. She owes you her life tonight, little being of the burning world. She lives from the mercy of your body alone. It is already a kindness she can never repay to live by your generosity, but oh, you made it so sweet-  Your blood intoxicates her senses, your body thrillingly warm- as agonizing as the fire of the burning world is to breathe in, it’s just as wonderful to swallow.

You are so sweet, so sweet, she will remember this favor forever.

There is no miracle like the divine connection between predator and prey. Oh child of the burning world, you who brings the Warmth of God into The Endless Night, You burning being of God’s Love. She is blessed by you, messenger of God.  Through you she receives the miracle of life.

Welcome, little burning being Welcome home to the night from whence you came Welcome inside her deepest self, and receive her hospitality.

She swallows the little burning being up with adoration, feeling it settle within her. Relief, ecstasy and satisfaction swirl but are interrupted by the appearance of another body. And another And another And another

The Behemoth itself falls, it’s body still curiously dynamic even torn in half- one end dives for the bottom of the night with somewhat alarming speed, where the other glides along to the depths on an angled path, the distant motion still visible with the bioluminescence it stirs up along it’s path. It is massive beyond anything she's seen before, more like a piece of geography than a living organism.

And all along its wake, hundreds of bodies spill forth from inside.

What a strange miracle this is. But she’s not one to refuse God’s Love. And if the beings of the burning world travel in huge schools with their behemoth, the peculiar notion that the little being within her might be lonely occurs to her. …Wow, she’s REALLY drunk.

Still, she eats three more of the burning beings before her guts are almost bursting with fullness, a bizarre sensation she’d only heard about from those who had been fortunate enough to feast on the fallen body of a fire-breather and had to leave the excess to the crawling beings of the bottom. So too, does she watch more bodies descend deep into the night as she returns to her world of darkness and song, the behemoth’s terrible screams now silent with rest, and the choir of the night rejoicing in this miracle.

---

Two miles above the revelry of God’s Favorite Greenland Shark, the survivors of the Titanic prayed into the endless night for a miracle, unaware it had already been granted.

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Firsts

pairings - Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

summary - Rafe was always there for your firsts.

warnings - drinking, drugs, language, fem receiving oral. (18+)

An/ I have other fics I should be finishing but this came to me this morning and I needed to write it!

Rafe Cameron.

Rafe Cameron was your first everything.

First friend, first girl boy hug, first kiss, first touch, first time, you hadn’t expected him to be your first heartbreak though.

Having been friends with him the moment your eyes landed on the quiet boy who sat on the browning grass, staring out at the kids playing. You can still remember the slight scowl on his chubby little face, you took it upon yourself to be friends with him.

Surprisingly he wanted to be your friend just as much as you wanted to be his, from that moment on the two of you were inseparable. It helped that you moved in next door to him, your parents becoming fast friends.

Throwback to the ripe age of 18, the night he broke your heart. You weren’t together, you were just best friends. Best friends that shared each other's firsts and seconds and so on. Neither of you put a label on the love you shared.

You wished you had though, the moment your eyes landed on his hands laced through Rebecca Jones’s tiny delicate hand, you knew that was the end.

He didn’t greet you that night, didn’t pull you into his famous bone crushing hug or whisper about how annoying everyone was. Instead he ignored you, Rebecca and his friends followed behind him as though he was royalty.

He wore a frightening smirk on his face the whole night, shoved at JJ Maybank who was hired as wait staff along with a fair few other pogues. Made a scene and called them names, at one point his father even had to get involved.

You felt sick to your stomach at the sight of the man in front of you, no longer the person you wanted to share your firsts with.

Fast forward to 21, you haven't spoken to him in three years. You couldn’t deny you missed him deeply, his picture still hung from the thin string lining your bedroom wall. But it was only one photo compared to the 300 you had tucked under your bed along with other memories.

It was your birthday, your eyes skimmed the people in the garden setting up for your party. Your eyes shooting to the silk black dress that hung in the doorway of your ensuite, darting your eyes back over the lawn and up at the tall house beside yours.

Your eyes search for a glimpse of Rafe but no life was found in the windows or the balcony. Letting out a soft sigh, you pushed yourself to stand. You didn’t have much time to get ready, your friends would be here soon and would want to start drinking the moment they stepped into your room.

45 minutes later you found yourself on the back porch, nursing a pornstar martini that your friend Elle had made. People had started to arrive and the sun had begun to set, your eyes searching through the sea of people for Rafe. You knew he wouldn’t show, even though at the age of 12 he promised to throw you the biggest 21st, just like the people on tv.

“Hey!”

You jumped slightly in your seat at the brazen voice, eyes landing on your friends who stared at you with worry. “What?” You questioned, grabbing a napkin you dabbed at the liquid that ran down your chest.

“I said, Barry is waiting for you by the side gate”.

All you do is nod and stand, Elle passes you the envelope of cash and keeps her eyes on the people around her. Tucking the folded up envelope in your bra, you make your way to the side of the house.

The music is loud and everyone is having a good time, your parents have gone out for the weekend to give you some space. Your friends had decided they wanted to buy something stronger than weed but were too scared of Barry to organize it themselves, but you apparently had no fear these days.

“Princess”

You knew you made a mistake instantly, Barry lent against the fence in a wife beater and ratty shorts. Smoke surrounded his face, stepping out of the dark he stopped in front of you.

You stood at the same height as him, if you had opted for heels you would have towered over him. “That dress looks good on you”.

“Here’s your money”

He cocked his head and kissed his teeth, eyes roaming your body unashamedly. You take a step back but he’s quick to step forward, gripping your wrist that held the envelope. “How about I give you something that’ll blow your mind but you pay a different way”

You shook your head instantly, you knew what he wanted. You weren’t stupid, the way his eyes darkened at the sight of you. “No I don’t think so… take the cash”

A throaty laugh escapes his lips and he tugs you towards him, your palm smacks his chest to keep you from falling into him further. You can smell the cigarette on his breath, scrunching your nose up when his lips ghost your cheek. “How about you get on your knees and put that pretty little mouth to good use”.

You tug on your wrist but his grip tightens, slipping his tongue out to wet his lips. “I have the cash, please just take the cash”.

His palm meets your shoulder, he uses all his strength to push your body to the floor and your knees hit the gravel. “Barry” you grit, your clenched fist meets his stomach and he doubles over in pain. “You bitch!”.

He coughs loudly and the little baggie falls to the floor, you're quick to grab it and jump up, throwing the envelope to his feet you step back but meet a hard wall. “Do we have a problem?”

All words that sat on the tip of your tongue vanished at the sight of Rafe, his eyes are hard and pointed at Barry. “I have the cash to pay him” your voice is just above a whisper, the skin of your bicep tingles at the feeling of Rafe’s fingers gripping tightly. “I don’t want the cash.. I want her on her knees” Barry growls, he stands up straight and steps towards you again. Pressing your back firmly against Rafe’s chest, he’s quick to pull you behind him. “She’s with me Barry”

“Oh shit man… I didn’t know she was yours!”

“She’s mine”

The goosebumps are back and butterflies swarm your belly, you zone out for what feels like a second but when you come back down to reality, Rafe is ushering you away from the scene, eyes cocking to see Barry hopping on his bike and the envelope you had for him inside his back pocket.

“I didn’t need your help”

You're not sure why you even said that, of course you needed help. There was no way you were leaving with anything unless you sucked Barry off. Rafe ignores you, pushing you forward by your lower back until you're back with your friends. Your fingers tighten around the baggie, hiding it from Rafe’s eyes.

You didn’t care that he knew you were buying drugs, it’s not like you hadn’t seen him snort lines at every party. It just felt strange, your first time doing something harder then weed wasn’t with him.

All your friends' eyes are on the two of you, mouths opened in shock. Before anyone can say anything he’s walking away, slipping into the crowd of people and disappearing. “What just happened?”

“Let’s get high”

The four of you lock yourself in the bathroom, opening the small baggie you pour the contents into your palm. “Did he say what it was?”

You shook your head, placing a small pill on the tip of your tongue. Each of their eyes watch as you swallow, holding out your palm for them to grab.

“I’m scared… I feel like we shouldn’t trust what he gives us”

“It’s fine, if it had been anything bad he would have told Rafe.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do Elle.. take the damn pill”

Each of them grab a pill and swallow, you put the rest back into the bag and hide it under the toilet sink inside your tampon box.

You're out the door before any of them can stop you, grabbing a bottle of champagne from the bench and heading back outside. Your feet take you further into the party, looking for Rafe. You hadn’t expected him to show up, your parents made you invite him since it would have been rude to throw a party next door without inviting your oldest friend.

You spot Rafe instantly, sipping on a beer and leaning against a pole. Topper and Kelce stand beside him as the two of them chat, Rafe’s eyes meet you for a brief moment before turning away from you.

Anger bubbles in your chest, storming back through the party. The bottle of champagne now half empty by the time you make it to your bathroom, the anger fuels the stupidity in your brain.

Grabbing the pills from the tampon box you take another, wanting the effects of the drug to hit you faster. But by the time you’ve taken the last step of the patio you're swaying, throwing your arms out to brace yourself. “Shit” you laugh, the empty bottle of champagne hitting the grass with a thud.

“Come dance!” Elle shouted, her tiny arms waving above her head. With wobbly legs you make your way to your friends, dancing wildly with them until a hot body comes up behind you and circles their arm around your waist, pressing you firmly to their crotch. “Hey”

You let the person dance against you, hands wandering your thighs and your stomach. The fingers of the stranger behind you brushes the underneath of your breasts before groping a handful, your mouth parts just a tiny bit and your ass presses firmer against him.

“What the fuck?”

Spinning on the spot at the loss of warmth behind you, the guy who had been dancing with you was on the floor. Rafe towered over you once again, his fingers grip your bicep and he’s pulling you away from the party. You notice no one watches the two of you, music drowning out any chatter around them.

“Rafe! What the hell is your problem!” You growl, wriggling in his grip only causing further pain to your arm. You give up rather quickly and let him drag you back into the house, pushing you through the door of the downstairs bathroom and closing the door behind him.

You press up against the bathroom sink and cross your arms, your eyes drift up and down his body. You can hear the harsh breaths Rafe was letting out, his forehead creased in anger. “I haven’t spoken to you in 3 years… you can’t just show up and manhandle me”.

His eyes meet yours finally and he takes a step closer, not close enough for you to touch him though. His cologne invades your nostrils and your cheeks heat from the memories of his hands on your body. “If you're not going to talk I’m leaving… it’s my birthday”.

His eyes finally drop from your eyes and he takes in your body, starting at your sneakers, drinking in the sight of your slender long legs, stopping for a tad longer on your breasts and then back up to your eyes.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ear, Goosebumps litter your skin and you have to brace yourself against the vanity table, legs wobbling from his gaze. “Happy birthday”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your shoulders relax at the sound of his voice. A voice you hadn’t heard up close in so long, a voice you dreamt about every night. “Thanks”.

The both of you are silent again, the sound of the party behind the door grows louder as the drugs start to lose their effect. “You look nice”

“Thanks”

He takes a step closer again, the toes of his shoes meet yours. The two of you look down briefly and then back at each other, you can smell the scotch on his breath, it's intoxicating.

“Rafe” your fingers touch his bicep softly, electricity flows through the tips of your fingers all the way to your heart. “I’ve missed you” he whispers seconds before his lips are on yours, all the memories you share together hit you like a tidal wave. Your knees buckle but he’s quick to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer to his chest.

“Missed you so much” he grunts, lips peppering kisses against yours. Down your jaw until they meet the base of your throat and he sucks hard, a soft whine escapes your parted lips. “Fuck”.

He grips your hips and drops you on the vanity table, pushing himself between your parted thighs, the heels of your shoes press firmly against his backside, pulling him closer to you. “You taste so fucking good”.

“Fuck Rafe… just like that” you whine, his hips roll against yours. His fingers grope and massage the skin of your thigh, pushing up the length of your dress to expose your nude thong. Your arousal soaks the front of your panties, your knees try to lock together in embarrassment but his thick frame holds them out. “I still make you as wet as I did 3 years ago” he groans, with one swift movement he’s ripped them at the crotch. Your pretty wet pussy exposed to his hungry eyes, his large hands tug you closer to the edge of the sink, dropping to his knees in front of you.

The sight has you clenching around nothing, arousal weeping from your needy hole. He places your feet on his shoulders and situates himself between your thighs. “Be a good girl for me y/n… let me eat your pussy for your birthday”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and nod frantically, the tip of his nose brushes your delicate clit. Your hips jut up to his face, a wicked smile paints itself on his lips. His tongue drops out slowly, the sight of the wet muscle has you whining. “Happy birthday sweetheart”

His hot tongue glides between your folds, your head falling back against the mirror in pure delight. “Oh fuck” you cried, pressing the balls of your feet into his shoulders. His hands grip the outside of your thighs, pulling your legs further apart until he can see your cunt in all its glory, glistening from your arousal. He could see your inner muscles clenching at the sight of him watching you. “Please Rafe” you begged, his lips dropped back to your pussy. Sucking and licking your overly sensitive nub, two of his fingers slip between your opening. Your back arching as he tapped at your g spot, you're sure you can see stars as he works himself on your pussy. “Sweet Jesus… Rafe! Yes yes yes”

The grunt of his approval vibrates against your clit, grinding your hips into his face. Your arousal coats his lower half, nose red from pressing himself so deep into your cunt. “I’m close! Rafe… right there! Holy shittt” your screams can be heard outside the bathroom door, the grip on your thighs are tight as he holds you close to him. You ride out your high, a thin layer sweat coats your chest and forehead. The back of your head hurts from the brutal force of you pushing against the mirror to steady yourself, you watch in silence as Rafe pulls away from you. Just as you open your mouth there are loud bangs on the bathroom door.

“Rafe! Man! Rafe quick Rebecca is outside looking for you!”

He’s out the door in seconds, leaving you alone and feeling dirty. Pressing your thighs closed you let out a silent sob, tears stream your face as you clean yourself up and throw away the ripped panties.

You take a few moments to calm down and slap some sense into yourself, you should have known Rafe was still seeing her. You should have told him to leave the moment he turned up, he was the Rafe you knew.

You exit the bathroom quietly and rush back downstairs in search of a drink, grabbing ahold of the tequila bottle.

As you step onto the patio, your friends quickly greet you. Your eyes stay on Rafe though, ignoring the chatter behind you, your eyes fall to the hand of Rebecca’s, it lay upon his chest in a gesture of adoration. A beautiful diamond placed upon her ring finger, the butterflies in your belly all but die. The beating of your heart is the only thing you hear, he notices where your eyes have landed and he is quick to place his much bigger hand over hers, hiding the beautiful ring from your vision.

He’s engaged.

Rafe Cameron got engaged.

Rafe Cameron had his first engagement and it wasn’t with you…

“Come on let’s go dance” Elle says, noticing the way both you and Rafe stare at each other. You squeeze your eyes shut for a brief moment when Rebecca reaches up to kiss his cheek, bringing the bottle of tequila to your lips. The alcohol burns your throat in the most satisfying way.

Your eyes open to catch the worry that finds its way onto his features as he watches you throw back way too much alcohol for your small body.

“Let’s get fucked up” you exclaim, walking away from your friends and towards the bar your parents had hired for the night.

“4 shots please… actually, just give me that bottle of whiskey”.

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[saltburnedme]

My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!

Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3520

Summary: After your last night with Oliver you question if things were even real, did you want them to be? Or are things better left unsaid.

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), dub con, drowning (kind of, their in a bath it’s more of like a forced breath play thing no one actually dies), sex in a bath, generally fucked up smut overall again

Read part 1 here (this can be read as a one shot too)

You didn’t wake up until nearing noon, up to this point you didn’t realise that had even been an option. Moments after you realised that something must have woken you up in the first place, there was a light knock on the door from one of the maids, a welcome change to the usual bursting in and blinding you with light pouring in from the freshly opened curtain you thought for a few seconds before she did exactly that.

‘Good morning miss, did you sleep well?’ She questions, her voice cheerful as she opens the curtains letting the sunlight flood into the room. Your eyes still adjusting to the dawn, the memories of last night rushing back into your mind. Your ripped night dress and falling asleep naked must have looked suspicious enough but to add to this you were certain your hair must have been a mess. It was only upon looking down towards yourself to cover up that you found yourself wearing a different night dress, one you can’t remember ever having seen before, your hair felt as if it was tied back and your torn nightwear was nowhere to be found.

‘I slept fabulously, thank you for asking’ you reply, feeling like your speech was slurred from drowsiness.

‘Breakfast is ready downstairs’ she replied before exiting the room, the second the door closed you rushed out of bed and almost sprinted towards the mirror. Was any of it real? You were now dressed where you remember sleeping naked, your hair was tied back and brushed where you remember it being down. Your mirror was against the wall like usual and as much as you may try the damn thing wouldn’t budge an inch. The only thing remaining from the night before was the faint swell between your legs and a suspiciously red mark left around your neck, if it hadn’t been for this you would be questioning if the night previous had been real at all or if you’d finally become so delusional from tiredness that you’d hallucinated the entire thing.

You traveled through your day in a haze, you’d like to say that you hadn’t made an extra effort to seek out Oliver but you had once again wandered into every room, down every hall and through every garden, apparently after everything that had happened he was now conveniently a difficult man to find. Was he ever really there? All of those words he said and everything he did was it actually real? He did seem out of character, the Oliver you knew, albeit very vaguely, would never have come into your room, stripped you naked and fucked you like that. You weren’t even convinced he’d ever actually had sex before last night let alone was as depraved as you’d found him to be. Last night he asked you to come to him at 10pm sharp, to meet him in the bathroom that he and Felix shared, but should you go? If you doubted it was even real in the first place wouldn’t just turning up in their bath seem at the very least a little bit unhinged? You weren’t sure what to make or do with any of it, but if one thing was for certain you were going to find out.

The day hurried by and promptly turned to night, surely you’d see Oliver at dinner you thought to yourself, your little hunt that consumed your day proving fruitless. As always you dressed for dinner, this time opting for a white bias cut silk dress which clung to every curve. It somewhat resembled your torn (and now missing) night dress, the main differences being in the wider straps and being longer in length as the hem delicately brushed the floor.

You tried your best to keep your literal and metaphorical cool through the warm air of the summer night, strolling with ease through the door of the large dining room. Your eyes scanned the room for mere seconds before you found him, sitting silently in his usual seat cross from yours, eating and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Taking your seat the usual chit chat continued around you with food placed elegantly in front of you, your eyes beaming forward burning a hole into the forehead of the man across from you in the hopes that your gaze would force his hand in some way. You’d searched for him all day, where could he have been? He looked almost angry. Summoning up your last ounce of bravery you decided, the only way to fight the bull is to grab him by the horns.

‘So Oliver, how did you sleep?’ You asked loudly across the table, loud enough for the rest of the dinner guests to hear, placing a pause over all the other conversations happening in your vicinity. Out of the corner of your eye you could just about make out the puzzled faces of the rest of the table, everyone now wondering how often they’d actually heard you address each other previously to this.

‘Fine, thank you Y/N’ he replied bluntly, his gaze finally meeting yours. You’d hoped opening up some kind of conversation with him would confirm your beliefs in some way, but instead he just looked angry. Maybe that was conformation enough in itself?

‘I thought I heard something from your side of the house’ you muttered out as the conversations around you slowly begin again. His blue eyes becoming black with anger almost daring you to say more as he sat unspoken.

‘Oh did you now?’ He questions. Definitely daring, you thought to yourself. You felt almost as if you were staring out a wild animal waiting to see just how long it would take for you to blink and for him to attack.

‘Yes, I thought I heard someone walking around near my room coming from your direction’ you continue, one hand playing nervously with the soft fabric of your dress underneath the table as the other shuffles food around your plate with your fork.

‘It’s an old house, all sorts of noises’ he replies, his head tilted slightly to the side as if to work out where you were going with this line of questioning. ‘Why, was there something you needed during the night?’ He ponders. Was he still daring you or was he just as confused about this whole situation as you were? Maybe you really had imagined the whole thing. He wouldn’t be asking you that if he had something to hide surely, you knew Felix had a temper with a hairpin trigger and absolutely no one wanted to provoke that. Or maybe that was exactly the point.

‘Oh no, it’s nothing really. Don’t worry, it just woke me up is all’ you reply, trying your best to sweep this entire conversation under the rug as much as humanly possible. You wanted to shrink away and become one with your chair, hiding in plain sight almost as if to disappear completely into a puddle of your own embarrassment. With a shrug Oliver went back to eating and ignoring you again, occasionally joining in with the others conversations as you pushed your food around your plate, taking anxious mouthfuls until the plate was almost entirely emptied.

‘Please may I be excused? I’m awfully tired’ you asked, your question pointed towards Elsbeth at the head of the table.

‘Of course my darling, sleep well’ she says as you hurry off, granting the room a brief Goodnight and a polite smile before making your way down the corridor.

Despite all of this, at 10pm you found yourself pacing your room, if any of it had been real you were well aware that you were late by now, your pacing only increasing as the clock ticks to 10:01pm, 10:02pm and before you knew it 10:05pm.

‘Fuck it’ you whispered to yourself, heading out of your room and down the corridor in the direction of Oliver’s room. Taking off your shoes to be as quiet as possible, your dress swung at your ankles as you almost stormed your way towards the bathroom, your feet padding cautiously but quickly against the wooden floor.

Finally arriving after what felt like hours of walking you found the bath freshly drawn yet the room suspiciously empty. At least this partially confirmed that you hadn’t manufactured this entire situation in your haze of exhaustion. The lights dimmed to their lowest setting you can barely see into the corners of the room, you make your way over to the mirror to take in your reflection standing in front of the sink. Resting your hands against it you check the room again, still no one to be found or so you thought. Letting out a frustrated sigh you concluded that if someone was watching you, as you hoped they were, you’d give them a show.

Sliding the first silk strap down your shoulder you glide your hand across your chest, down to your shoulder and off of your arm. You follow the same with your other arm, still holding the dress to your body as you take one last look around the room before dropping your dress to the floor the white fabric pooling at your feet, a stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the room. Your movements continued as you slipped your bra off, once released massaging your own shoulder softly to relieve yourself from the stress of the day. Your hands slipping lower you step out of your white, matching silk panties, the collection of fabrics joining your dress on the floor.

You turn away from the mirror, facing towards the bath, slowly stepping in and submerging your body in the water, the shine of the golden tub reflecting off of your skin. Dipping your hair in the water you look around the room full of hopefulness again, still, finding nothing. He had to be here, you were sure of it and if he wouldn’t come to you of his own free will, you’d make him just like he made you. Your hand begins to travel south, lowering between your legs rubbing soft circles into your clit. You feel the tension release from your body almost immediately as your pace increases, letting out a stream of breathy moans, the sound reverberating off of the tiles. Your eyes fall closed and your face begins to contort with pleasure as you feel your climax rapidly build, your mind replaying the previous night tempting your pleasure to reach its peak.

Just as quickly as your orgasm built, it was ripped away from you harshly. Your eyes still clenched shut in ecstasy you feel your wet hair being grasped firmly, pulling you under in the water. You try to hold your breath as you’re pushed under but the shock of it almost causes you to breathe the water in. Being held there for a couple of seconds your pulled up just as aggressively.

‘You think your such a clever girl, calling me out like that’ he growls, climbing on top of you still dressed in a white shirt and boxers. His body caging you in underneath him he puts his other hand around your face, squishing your jaw so that your mouth falls open, spitting into your mouth before pushing your head under water once more. You wish that you could have kept the taste of him on your tongue for a few seconds more, a thought that crossed your mind very briefly until you were filled with the panic of being drowned once again before being pulled to the surface once more.

‘Tell me why I shouldn’t just drown you now little one? You know that’s been my plan all along, fucking you and feeling you completely submissive underneath me, nothing you can do to stop me’ he growls, grinding his hard cock into the flesh of your thigh. ‘But you had to be a disobedient little whore, just like the rest of your fucking Catton family’ he continues, you open your mouth to reply but just as you breathe in to speak he plunges you under again, this time pulling your up faster, allowing you to cough up water and look up to him in fear. ‘There’s my good girl’ he sneers, this is exactly how he wanted you completely obedient and pliable underneath him. He wanted the power over you, to make you fear him and love him all at once, something that he was very much achieving. Almost as quickly as he had turned on you, his touch became soft almost loving and his words followed suit.

‘You looked so pretty in that dress, almost like an angel. You wear that for me sweetheart?’ He asks, releasing your hair to press one hand against the roll top of the bath near your head while still holding your cheeks softly in his other hand. You were almost wordless, the contrast in his actions totally throwing you off in a way you would have never expected. You thought you’d seen the darkest parts of him last night, but this was like you’d found another cavern in his soul filled with nothing but hatred for you and everyone around you.

‘Y-yes’ you stutter out, still catching your breath from being held under water, your eyes locked on his as he leans in closer, his face almost touching yours.

‘Yes, what?’ He asks, your eyes scanning his face rapidly to give him the answer he craves, the answer you wish with all your heart and mind to give him.

‘Yes.. sir’ you reply, your words coming out shakily, your body trembling in the gradually cooling water.

‘Such a good girl for me’ he says letting go of your face, his hand sliding down your curves, pulling your legs around his hips your heat pressing into his fully hardened length. He got off on drowning you, that was the first thing that sprung to mind when you felt him between your legs, he wanted your submission and my god did he have it. ‘Fuck’ he groans to himself as he grinds into you, it was almost as if he saw you as an object, just there for his ego.. and other things. Pulling his shirt over his head he discards the wet fabric to the floor beside the bath, pushing his boxers down and gliding the thick head of his cock through your folds.

‘Do you want me to fuck you angel? You’ve been such a good girl, you deserve a reward’ he asks as softly as he could in the given situation. You knew he didn’t really care what you said, if you refused he’d still take what he wanted from you but he knew you’d never turn him down not when he was the only person granting you the lustful excitement that you so craved.

‘Please sir, please fuck me’ you ask looking into his eyes in desperation.

‘Ah, that’s not quite good enough little one. Show me how much you want me’ he demands, pulling you up towards him, leaning back on his heels as he kneels in front of you, his hips lifted to your face height. Tentatively you licked down his shaft, your gaze held by his as you take more of him in your mouth. For the first time, he was letting you take control, his hands gripping the sides of the bath firmly, his knuckles whitening as his fists tighten. You knew not to break eye contact from your last time with him, he liked you to look at him, he loved the power it gave him over you as he moaned unashamed above you. Wouldn’t Felix hear? Wouldn’t you be in trouble? You thought. You’d suspected earlier today that this may be exactly what Oliver was betting on but right in this moment you didn’t care, you’d do anything to please him.

Your hands join your mouth wrapped around Oliver’s length, pumping him as his cheeks flush and one of his hands entangle in your hair gripping it and pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. ‘Fuck angel’ he almost whispers, as you feel him throbbing under your grip, he was close and you knew it. Your fists quickened their pace and you sucked his tip a little bit stronger until his eyes left yours, his head falling back against his shoulders as his eyes close and his face contorts in pleasure, pushing his tip right to the back of your throat causing you to choke as he empties himself into your windpipe, fucking your face as he rides out his orgasm. Just as his climax subsides he pulls his still hard length out of your mouth.

‘Open’ he demands, no other words. You thought he wanted to see that you’d swallowed but you hadn’t, his spend trickling out around the corners of your mouth. ‘Jesus, look at you’ his tone mixed between an insult and genuine concern. Just as you tried to swallow his load again, you were stopped feeling his mouth on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth immediately making your kiss a mixture of both of your saliva and his cum emptying your mouth of it as he pushes you back against the bath, wrapping your legs around his hips once more. The image of you like this seeming to have triggered something in him again, he immediately lines his cock up with your entrance and thrusts up into you making you let out a light scream in a mixture pleasure and pain as he splits you open.

His pace was fast, way faster than you expected as the remaining water in the bath splashes over the edges as he fucks you landing on the floor beside the tub. His eyes baring into yours once again he holds you up above the water line, the blood rushing throughout your body almost deafeningly as all of your senses heighten zoning in on Oliver. Your ruined orgasm returning almost as quickly as it left you feel yourself begin to clamp down on him, you know he can feel it, his hips grinding into yours forcing your orgasm from you almost violently.

‘Cum for me’ he asks, his tone almost begging at this point. ‘Let me hear it’ He demands, another contrast with last night, this time he wants to hear you. ‘Let them all hear it, let them know who you belong to, who fucks you like this’ his words faltering as you clamp down on him, riding out your orgasm loudly just ask he asked, the sound bouncing off the walls you were certain that they must have been able to hear you in the next village over let alone just in the house.

‘Fuck, you really are an angel, look at you’ he says, guiding your gaze to the mirrors over the sink to the side of you as you come down from your orgasm, still continuing at his blistering pace. Watching him fuck you was almost other worldly, the way the dim light reflected off of his almost translucent white skin. You could see his length thrust in and out of you as your eyes met his in the mirror. Pulling you out of your post orgasm haze he doubles down on his pace, one hand on the bath above you the other on your hip as his nails dig into your soft skin. Without warning he emptied himself inside you, pressing his lips to yours as he came within you his moans almost as loud as yours had just been.

Regaining your breaths he pulls out of you, sliding behind you in the bath washing your body clean with the remaining water as your back is pushed against his chest. You wanted to say something, to ask him what all of this meant or if it really meant anything to him at all. You knew you had feelings for him, feelings that grew stronger every time something like this happened between you. You had a need, a desperate want to make him happy, to impress him and to make him need you the way you needed him.

‘Did you enjoy your little lie in?’ He asks, some what out of context with the rest of what had just happened.

‘Uh.. yes’ you replied ‘I wasn’t aware the staff would let anyone sleep in after 8am’ you continued with a giggle.

‘That’s because they don’t. I told them to leave you be a little longer after your somewhat strenuous night’ he replies pressing kisses into your neck as he continues to clean you.

‘And they listened to you?’ You asked, partially amazed that the house staff would ever listen to the wishes of anyone other than the core members of the family.

‘They will’ He says, his voice sterner as his actions continue, pulling you in for one last kiss while running his fingers through your hair. ‘Oh they will my angel’ his words ring in your ear as you begin to fall asleep on his chest ignoring the rest of his sentence, you were his angel.

Tag list - @lillypink @ilovesaltburn @simplymakkari @hahahafucku @rorysgirl @jubileexoxo @grandpaintersuit @anniemay67 @idontevenknow1359 @frayafriggafrey

[nackrosor]

~Your Wish~

(pt.1/3)

PART 2 - PART 3

Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader

warnings/tags: smut, voyeurism, masturbation (nothing explicit), not much happening tbh, it's more of a teasing for what might come next... (i'm thinking somnophilia, dub/con, eventual consensual sex but we'll see...) words count: 1,1k. a.n: this is just a lil' something to keep the writing block away and to get used to writing less but posting more. Also, for once I focused on the character's - in this case Brahms's - feelings/thoughts instead of the reader's, so there's that. Enjoy!

The boy watched you as you placed Brahms in its bed with the care of a mother. You've been looking after the doll for weeks now, treating it with such gentleness; he noticed it and it made him happy, proud of you. He liked you even more because of it. 

He's been watching you the entire time, peeking through the slits and gaps between the walls. Every time your hands held the doll's small form tight to your chest or each time your lips brushed its ceramic face for a goodnight kiss, he wished it was him instead of his fake counterpart. He wished to be touched like that, to be cared for like that… By you.

Despite his ardent and ever-growing fondness for you, he stayed back, hidden behind the walls, only coming out when you were outside in the garden or asleep in your bed. He was afraid you'd be scared to see him, scared of him. That you would run away, leave him alone… He would not be able to bear it. No. You were his. His y/n. 

He'd stay hidden for you, content to watch you and admire you from a distance… fantasising about your touch, your warmth, your lips... 

You leaned down and gave the doll the mandatory goodnight kiss, drawing Brahms's attention back to you. A soft groan left his lips at the sight. Everything you did aroused him. It was an instant reaction. Even at that moment, he could already feel himself growing… 

"You know, Brahms?” 

His ears perked up at the sound of your voice. He eagerly leaned in against the wooden panel in the hope of hearing you better. 

“Sometimes I wish you were a real boy so that we would keep each other company in this big, scary house." 

You admitted with a little smile on your lips as you caressed the cold doll's face, and he almost lost it. He would have punched through the wall and wrapped his arms tight around you, right there and there, if only he could. Would you have accepted him? Without reservations? He had just heard you say you wished he was real… Would you have been happy to see him? To see that he was, in fact, very much real and just as desirous to keep you company.

The melodious sound of your chuckle drew his attention back to you, and he saw you shaking your head in amusement before you tucked the doll in and retreated towards the door to leave the room. 

Brahms ran after you without even a second thought, rushing through the maze behind the walls to follow your path.

You made it to your bedroom and started undressing yourself to get ready for bed. His breath caught in his throat; the sight of your bare body always made him twitch in need. Oh, how he would love to strip you out of your clothes at least once... His probing eyes raked over your curves, his breathing becoming ragged, while you slipped into your nightgown and crawled into your bed with a tired sigh. 

The light went out, and he hissed. It was difficult to watch you with the entire room enveloped in pitch-blackness, but at least he could make out your faint silhouette since that night the moon shone high in the sky, its kind rays gently illuminating your soft curves through the dark drapes.

He kept watching you for a while, making sure you fell asleep, making sure you were alright. 

As he was turning around to crawl back to his place and take care of himself, he heard a soft, muffled sound coming from your room. He immediately moved back to the hole to peek inside. 

You were stirring under the sheets. Were you having a bad dream? Or perhaps you couldn't fall asleep? 

He leaned in further, squinting through the gap in an attempt to see you better. More weak noises came out of you, causing him to frown in confusion. It didn't sound like you were in pain… But your breath came out in short gasps, as if you were having trouble with something.

Brahms felt his muscles tense up, his whole body urging him to follow his instincts and barge into the room to help you. 

“Ohh, f-fuck…f-fuck…”

The sound of your voice made him freeze on the spot, his eyes growing wide. He watched as your legs spread apart under the sheets and your body arched up slightly. He could see it clearly now; your arm hidden beneath the sheets, resting right between your thighs. 

It took all of his strength to hold back the deep grunt that was about to spill out of his mouth when he finally realised what was happening. His legs gave out, causing him to fall to the floor, but his hands muffled the thud by holding onto the wall, slowing down his fall.

He leaned his forehead against the wooden panels, his breathing shallow and his body trembling in restraint. His hand tentatively reached for his pants, while the other rested on the wall in front of him for support. He had to bite down on his lips to muffle a moan the moment he palmed himself from above the fabric. His bulge twitched, desperately screaming for attention but he knew he couldn't answer… He would make too much noise… and alert you… Scare you… No… He couldn't risk it… He had to wait… Wait until you finished and fell asleep… Only then… Only then he could… 

Reluctantly, he tore his hand away from his pants and rested it on the wall as well, going back to focus on the sight of you. Your voice was growing louder, and each single moan and whimper that escaped you went straight to his throbbing erection, making him grit his teeth. His hips started bucking up, thrusting into the air on their own accord, moving in unison with your own as if he was the one pleasuring you… hitting your most precious spot inside you instead of your fingers. 

He had to summon every ounce of willpower inside him to control himself and hold back when he heard you cry out in pleasure, your body spasming violently, shaken by waves of ecstasy. 

The muffled sound of his ragged breathing drowned out your sounds as it reverberated through his mask, his hot breath condensing into tiny drops on the cold ceramic. 

Brahms kept staring at you, raptured and shuddering with barely contained lust as you came down from your high and tucked yourself in again, ready to fall asleep this time. 

He nearly came only from watching you, or rather, hearing you. If he could have truly seen you, nothing could have prevented him from bursting inside his pants without even touching himself. It would have been so much better than what he was going through at that very moment —shivering, gasping for air, trying to remain silent, and not answering the urge to relieve himself. 

He had to make sure you were asleep first.

MORE STORIES 🥀

[A.N: let me know if you would like to read part 2 of this...]

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[janovavalen]

the woman in blue .°୭̥ ❁ ˎˊ˗ rhaenyra targaryen x fem! targaryen reader

summary: after the hard times with her husband, rhaenyra has found it hard to find her right state of mind. wandering the halls of the castle, she stubbles upon her niece, very pregnant, and very beautiful.

warnings: CHEATING, cursing, reader being married to aemond, sexual themes, oral ( f&f receiving ) fingering, cum eating, hiding of sexualities, mentions of angst, fluff of course

word count: 4k

they were at it again, arguing back and forth to the point daemon decided to flat out ignore rhaenyra and leave the room, unbothered. rhaenyra and daemon have been fighting for what seemed like ages, forever even. they didn’t even have any real things to fight about, they just did.

in their chambers, in the stone covered halls, in the throne room, in the garden and even at the dinner table. startling the children who sat and tried their hardest to seem like they weren’t bothered as they picked at their food and not even eating it, moving it around at the plate and jumping when either their mother or daemon banged their hand on the table.

rhaenyra was never one for public display of anger and aggression, but she found it harder to stand by the man she once loved with all her heart and mind, her soul was his to hold and he gave it back to her. not by accident or by force, but with the words of which he spoke under her heart.

she would silently cry at night by holding her mouth over her hand to silence herself but sometimes a whine could sleep through the cracks, causing the maids to ask if she’d gotten her moon blood or if she’d gotten hurt by which she’d reply with a simple—‘no everything was fine.’

she wasn’t fine, nothing about fighting the love of her life,her husband was fine. and what definitely wasn’t fine was that she knew with all her mind that he’d been seeing other women, whores.

he’d come back at late hours smelling of bath soaps and perfumes and with the smell of wine or whatever liquid alcohol he could get his hands on while he was away.

he’s plop himself down into bed with the mindset he’d gotten away with sneaking out like a teenager who thought they gotten away with sneaking out of the house for the fourth time but in reality their mother knew they’d left once the number hit twice.

sighing as she held her hand over her face with stress leaking out of her every being, she let it slap against her dressed thigh, looking around the room as if it had broken glass from what daemon threw at the wall behind her. she was hyper aware of his aggressive behavior, but never did she think she’d fall victim to it.

seeing the more she stayed in the room, the longer she pained herself deep down. walking to the door and making her leave. she needed to get her head straight and clean, fresh air should do her good, it should do her just fine.

she would’ve loved to ride her dragon, but knew that was out of the option especially if she were caught and word got around, straight to daemon.

walking down the hall with a fast pace while looking around, rhaenyra avoided guards that were at each turn. they were posted into almost every hallway all night, all day, all morning, all the time.

she didn’t have a problem with it at all, but it was nights like these where she’d wished they would just fall asleep so she could slip away from all of the , no questions asked.

becoming more comfortable and calm, she slowed her pace, her fingers moving around the rings on her fingers causing them to turn around her fingers.

reaching the steps to the garden she breathed in a gentle breath, the breeze of the air flowing through her hair and kissing her face, the view of the moon just far ahead, bright and there to light the night sky.

rhaenyra stepped down and onto the grass, eating a faint sound of the water crashing against one another and…humming?

her eyebrows frowning, she turned around and looked to see nothing but could hear humming clear as day. not knowing where the sound was coming from she grew a bit frustrated but was still moved by the humming, whoever was doing it was humming one of the songs rhaenyra loved very much.

‘hello?’ she gently spoke, looking around and waiting as she stood. the humming came to an end, and the sound of leaves crunching replaced it. looking at the direction where it came from she noticed stomach before the rest of the body.

there stood y/n stark, she was a new member of the family; married and very pregnant by her brother aemond. they were married for only a while but still conceived their second child in the making.

‘sorry, queen rhaenyra, i did not mean to startle you by all means’ she mumbled, the clear expression showing how nervous she was that rhaenyra might rat her out to the guards and her husband and send her straight to her chambers, but by surprise she was met with a different response.

‘it’s quite alright, really. i actually enjoyed it, one of my favorite songs’ she smiled gently while still studying the girl in front of her.

y/n’s dark hair fell over her figure, it long and curly. she was presented for marriage at the same time aegon had been married off to marry helaena. she was never seen outside of main events and meetings, never out of her chambers.

rhaenyra could only imagine how she must’ve felt by the fact she was so far away from home and her family.

‘really? aemond has introduced me to the targaryen customs of things. i want you all to like me so i try my best to please’ she smiled while rhaenyra did back, softly shaking her head.

‘no dear, you are just fine. there’s no need to follow along with anything you don’t want. are you liking it so far?’ she asked. she hoped she did, if she didn’t she could imagine how she’d have to fake her smiled and fake loving to be here.

‘i am!’ she quipped very quickly. rhaenyra watched as her eyes faltered and looked down at the grass .

‘truthfully?’ she dared. rhaenyra had kids and was around teenagers all the time, she was very smart when it came to seeing through lies.

y/n looked up with her eyes and signed heavily,her hands holding her stomach and rubbing it softly.

‘i’m trying to.’ she admitted, rhaenyra laughed as y/n smiled at the sound of it—‘what makes it hard to enjoy? being so far away from home or there’s nothing to like?’ she wondered.

‘no that’s not it at all, yes i very deeply miss my family, i write to them every day, but i feel as though i don’t fit in here. some are assuming im a bastard child, sister to jacaerys and lucaerys…your children’ she whispered as if she’d been caught.

rhaenyra took a deep breath at hearing the word bastards as in relation to her children. there’d been many people for many years that have spoken down on her children, she could only speak volumes. knowing they were all right but the way they were saying it made her hurt for her sons.

‘ah..i see. so i'll take it that you're being shown a quite darker side of kingslanding’ she watched as y/n nibbled on her bottom lip and nodded.

‘i deeply apologize for that, you don’t deserve that at all.‘ she smiled as y/n did back, looking off to the side and rhaenyra looking at her feet to see the distance between the two as a bit far, wanting to grow closer.

‘i see you are with child once more?’ she asked, making her plan to step forward, walking slowly to y/n who paid no mind it nodded and looked down at her stomach.

smiling y/n nodded— ‘yes, we are doing our duties and playing the roles we were assigned i suppose’ she joked as rhaenyra laughed, y/n doing so as well.

‘and you? are you with child? they’re has been talk in the halls that you’ve fallen pregnant but no one actually confirmed it’ she asked, taking the sight of rhaenyra to her advantage a little.

‘no, i’m not. i do not know where you heard those accusations. but we were trying for quite some time’ she revealed, now standing only an arm's distance away from y/n.

‘hm…were?’ y/n recited, rhaenyra hadn’t realized she spoke in past tense but knew there was no going back now.

‘yes…’

y/n was hesitant—‘are there complications?’

y/n seeing rhaenyra look at her quietly with a straight face and the previous tears that ran from her eyes was just enough for an answer.

moving closer to rhaenyra, she placed a hand on her own, gaining rhaenyra to look at her through her eyelashes—‘it’s okay..aemond and i fight too. he wasn’t like that when he first met and had our son..but once i’d given birth to our second son, rhaegal…he changed. he’d been born with dark hair like mine, and it infuriated him…i suppose he hoped that his hair would overcome mine, but i try not to assume.’ y/n whispered as she looked anywhere but rhaenyra.

rhaenyra who felt horrible for the soft spoken girl, let her eyebrows and face show it. causing y/n to see and rush to stop all signs and thoughts of pity on her, moving her hand back and waving it—‘oh no! don’t think of it too much, i’m quite alright! i haven’t taken much of his actions to heart or mind, i have a child to deliver safely, i cannot afford him being upset to ruin that’ she mumbled.

rhaenyra thought of her mother and lost daughter in the words of y/n spoke. was that what caused it.

‘have you lost before?’ she wondered.

‘yes..back at home. my son, beron, was born. his body forever frozen. from what the nurses tell me, he’d been dead while in me for a while. his hands were so small and frail, his hair dark with very little curls…’ y/n felt herself grow sad at the thought of her son.

rhaenyra could relate to a great amount—‘i’ve lost my daughter, visenya..i had been suffering the loss of my father and stressing over the throne i hadn’t realized my baby was dependent on my emotional state’ rhaenyra told her. very little with the fact it was still hard to move on but felt she needed to since y/n shared deeply with her.

‘i’m so sorry that happened to you, truly. she would’ve been beautiful, like her mother’ y/n told her, lifting a hand and letting it hold rhaenyra once more who felt her heart skip a beat, it pained her almost.

she smiled softly at y/n who let go after a tight squeeze and let the hand that held her rest along her stomach.

‘uh, how far along?’ wanting so badly to change the subject but not forgetting what her heart felt seconds ago.

‘seven months now, it’s almost time thank the Gods. this one has even very hyper, could only imagine what they will be like once they're older’ she smiled and laughed softly, rhaenyra watching with a smile as well.

y/n felt the conversation still between the two and awkwardly looked down and over at the stone walls of the castle, rhaenyra watching her intensely with her heart somewhat speaking to her about what to do, even if she didn’t know what she would say at the moment.

she was beyond confused but tried not to think of it as much.

‘what are you hoping for?’ she asked; y/n facing her with uplifted eyebrows and her e/c eyes holding small bits of light in them.

‘a girl, aemond wants a son however, for an heir…’ y/n mumbled, hating when she talked about aemond especially right now.

‘hm..a girl will be beautiful, especially for one of your stature’ rhaenyra gave a backhanded compliment but hoped y/n would see it through; which she did.

smiling at rhaenyra and even coughing up a laugh, trying to cover it; ‘thank you, i wouldn’t be opposed to a son however’ y/n added. rhaenyra noticed how she was trying to move a bit in place, she already knew from her previous experiences, rest was very much needed and standing in place could hurt a little.

‘come, let’s take a walk, yes?’ she hummed as y/n looked up into her eyes and smiled softly—‘yes, of course’.

the two walking their way slowly down and around to the stone flooring that lead to the beach, y/n could admit one thing about dragons landing, the views and the quietness in the night, not being scared of the cold killing her in her sleep.

y/n wasn’t afraid to admit she's snuck out numerous times since she’s gotten here, this just so happened to be her first time beating caught by someone.

she’s even stayed up all night near the ocean for the pure fact she didn’t want to be laid up in bed with aemond.

‘have you always loved the ocean?’ y/n asked rhaenyra as they walked along the shore, holding their dresses from touching the water and sand mixture.

‘you could say that, i’m mainly in the sky however, especially when i was younger’ she told y/n with the memory of how obsessed she was with flying around with her dragon, syrax.

‘i’ve heard about the dragons, my brother grew to tease me since i was very small however, but i didn’t let that judge how they are, i like to think of them as bigger wolves that can spit fire and fly’ y/n mumbled to herself revealing some of her humor to rhaenyra who found it pleasing and laughed too.

y/n found her laughter wonderful to hear and let her own slip out.

‘that’s a beautiful way to think of it, have you ever wished of your own?’ rhaenyra asked while looking at y/n who looked at rhaenyra.

‘at times, i’d wonder what it’s like to be in the air and feel the breeze between my hair and on my face, the view must be beautiful from above’ she fantasized while rhaenyra listened.

‘it very much is, i love flying all the time but it has become limited to when i can get out to it…i used to all the time’ y/n smiled deeply at rhaenyra who felt her face redden and warm up, looking down at the floor as y/n noticed and gave a grin for herself.

the silence between the two was comforting, the most comfortable silence the two had ever had compared to what their husbands provided. constant arguing and yelling tires a person to large amounts.

rhaenyra found herself looking at y/n with her dark blue nightgown, looking over her face and tracing her eyes over y/n’s side profile made her blush even more.

y/n’s nose; slightly chubby cheeks from the pregnancy symptoms, her long dark hair that fell down to her back and over her lower back. it slightly reminded her of alicents hair as well.

turning as y/n felt her eyes she looked at rhaenyra who was quick to avoid getting caught; y/n smiled and spoke with confidence—‘it’s alright..i stare at you much often as well, but not stare, more like admire’ y/n admitted.

rhaenyra was quick to look at her with shock, not believing what she said.

‘oh, uhm, thank you’ she laughed and stumbled on her words as y/n smiled deeply at making the rhaenyra herself blush.

y/n found herself sizing her up and down as well, she looked beautiful, tasteful even, in the moonlight, her light hair moving over her shoulder and some pieces of hair flowing in the wind.

‘you look beautiful’ y/n mumbled to rhaenyra who looked up at her, her eyes wide once more with a red hue covering her face. the two had stopped walking once they found themselves at the small stone steps, rhaenyra studying y/n once more.

her breath began to quicken with the sudden urge to push forward, her eyes looking down at y/n swelling belly, placing a hand on it and letting her hand graze over to y/n’s hand that had been near her side. y/n let her grab it and smiled softly, her thumb moving soothingly over rhaenyra’s hand.

rhaenyra didn’t know what she was doing, but she knew she had no problem doing it. y/n however, had past experiences with women, she’d slept with some as well. her attraction to rhaenyra was very known to her when she saw rhaenyra with her hair down and wearing her deep red and black dress.

y/n had ven found herself thinking of rhaenyra on top of her instead of aemomd, at dark time of night, she’d let her hand wander and please herself in the dark with aemond gone doing God’s know what.

she was pretty sure a guard or two would hear her panting breaths of pleasure through the doors.

rhaenyra stepping closer to y/n who kept her eyes steady on rhaenyra eyes and lips, she pushed forward slightly to let it graze rhaenyra’s plush lips.

rhaenyra gasped slightly but let y/n continue to lead herself in, their lips slightly colliding. her lips plushed against hers, warm, soft and gentle the kiss was kind, and hungry.

y/n’s stomach stoped rhaenyra from pushing against her as she wished but she didn’t mind it as much, their hearts racing together faster and faster, a soft moan slipped through y/n’s lips along with rhaenyra’s.

y/n let her hand move down and over rhaenyra’s back side and down her thighs—‘w—wait wait…wait’ rhaenyra panted as y/n moved to kiss her neck and suck on it making rhaenyra flood in heat.

y/n pulled away slowly while looking at rhaenyra through her eyelashes and smiled at how rhaenyra fought to catch her breath, y/n licking her lips and rhaenyra almost giving in to chase her lips.

‘what is it you need, princess?’ y/n mumbled as rhaenyra felt the heat pool under herself, moaning slightly when y/n’s hand reached to push over her cheek, leaning into her touch, rhaenyra grabbed ahold of her hand and gently pulled her to walk into a secret room she found herself in more than once.

rhaenyra didn’t want to admit it but she gave herself pleasure in a room far far away from her own, especially far away from daemon who could catch her.

the two of them getting into the room it was darker than ever, y/n found it hard to even see anything but the faint light of a fire flame not to far from them provided her light to see rhaenyra push against her in a rush, y/n catching up to her lips and then moving in sync.

moaning with hunger into the lips of y/n, rhaenyra let y/n’s hand wander down from her check, to her neck, to her waist, down and down to her stomach, near where she needed.

pulling apart from y/n with her mouth slightly open as y/n’s did the same she smirked and let rhaenyra rush to pull up her dress, as y/n did that rhaenyra felt y/n’s finger play with her pearl.

moaning in pleasure she licked her lips as y/n focused on her back and pleasing. rhaenyra’s white hair stuck to her slightly wet face from the heat of her body and the intensity of y/n’s sweet kisses.

y/n’s hand finally going where she needed, rhaenyra let out a strained noise with pleasure, her mouth open and breathing her high pitched sounds—‘oh…fuck’ she mumbled as y/n smiled into her neck.

leaving a small but prominent love bite on her neck as rhaenyra held her hand that was pleasing her, y/n doing just as she needed, getting just where she needed and doing exactly what she wanted. the pleasure building up, becoming overstimulating.

‘fuck…are you close princess? hm?’ y/n mumbled into rhaenyra’s ear as she nodded fast and hummed—‘yes, yes, fuck—yes’ rhaenyra’s jaw cluched as she felt her wave of pleasure wash over her quickly.

y/n could tell she came when rhaenyra’s walls tightened around her two fingers, y/n smiled and kissed rhaenyra’s lips who kissed back hungrily.

humming into the kiss, rhaenyra lead y/n over to the bed that was set up. the room they were in was also used as a spare room for anyone who wanted to sleep on the beach in solidarity.

‘lay, here’ rhaenyra instructed as y/n hummed. sitting down with a small grunt at the extra weight on her body, she found comfort and pleasure when rhaenyra’s arms on both sides of y/n’s head as she watched intently, their eyes connected and her eyes occasionally looking down at her lips.

kissing y/n as she hummed, rhaenyra made her way down to her neck and to her swelling breasts. y/n always had a pain their and moaned with the pressure when rhaenyra squeezed them slightly.

‘does that feel good?’ she asked, y/n nodded and rhaenyra smiled, keeping her hand on her breasts as she traveled down and over her full stomach, over the baby bump and down where y/n was starving.

she could practically hear how wet y/n was with her pulsing. rhaenyra let her hand travel to her ankle and pushed up her dress, her eyes running over y/n’s slightly swollen ackles, her hand moving and massaging her as y/n made a noise of pleasure once more.

her hand traveled to her thighs and pushed one of y/n’s leg over her shoulder, living a long pleasurable lick over her warmth, y/n moaned in delight—‘oh fuck’ y/n mumbled as she kept rhaenyra’s tongue.

her finger going in as well, y/n hasn’t felt this pleasure since she left home. three kids in and yet she didn’t feel anything from aemond, he was the one being pleased and when he would cum with a grunt in her cunt she cringed every time, he’d hold her still even though she wouldn’t think of moving.

‘your beautiful at this princess—shit, right there’ y/n moaned as her eyebrows grew closer and her breath quickening. her voice straining.

rhaenyra went where y/n told her to stay and continued with the pace she needed her to go, y/n was close, very close.

‘i’m close, i’m going to cum’ she breathed with her chest, she in a small way felt bad for her baby, but then again didn’t really. holding rhaenyra closer with whr ankle wrapping around her back, rhaenyra felt her pulse around her finger as she hummed, y/n cumming in an fast, her voice ringing through the room and into rhaenyra’s ears and heat, she grinned and found her way back to to y/n.

their lips crashing against one another, their kiss hungry and full, humming and moaning into one another as their tongues touched and fought one another. y/n wished she wasn’t pregnant in this very moment, she so badly wanted to crash her hips along rhaenyra whose thoughts were the same.

as they smiled into one another’s lips, they pulled apart and rhaenyra sat next to y/n to watch her intently.

‘is that what you wanted, princess?’ y/n mumbled, scared of her reaction. rhaenyra was quick to respond—‘yes..yes it was why would you ask?’ she was worried, was that not what she wanted?

‘no no, i’ve been wanting you since i’ve gotten here..i were just worried for what you would think’ she mumbled as rhaenyra smiled softly, leaning in and kissing y/n as she tasted herself on her lips.

‘it’s what i wanted’ she said as y/n smiled.

[guiltyasdave]

the road not taken

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: 2.5k

tags/warnings: childhood friends trope, angst, fluff, no use of y/n, able bodied reader, reader has hair that she uses a hair dryer on, things that i don’t want to spoil but when i say angst i mean angst

a/n: remember how last year, i said that i’d only write happy endings for dave? yeah, about that…

thank you @sizzlingcloudmentality for beta reading, for encouraging me (through tears lol) and for just being the best of friends <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍

Water cascades down on you, hot on your skin, soaking through your hair and collecting at your feet before it circles down the drain. You don’t know how long you’ve been standing here, staring at the glass fogging up around you. 

It had been summertime when Dave moved in next door. You took your first glimpse at him with your nose almost pressed against your bedroom window. He opened the sleek silver car door, his mouth set in a firm line, the apprehension written all over his face as he looked up at the house. You had ducked out of sight when his eyes flickered over to your window, but when you took another peek, he was looking straight at you, a smirk playing around his mouth.

Your fingers massage over your scalp, spreading your shampoo’s soft foam, the fresh scent engulfing you. Your shoulders relax a little, sinking into the familiar feeling.

The first time you talked to each other, it was through the gaps in the fence separating your garden from his. Neither of you tall enough to reach over the wooden barrier, so all you could see was a glimpse of dark brown hair falling over even darker eyes, their gaze so much more pensive than you were used to from boys your age. Smarter, too. He made you laugh, made you curious to know more about him. You immediately wanted him to be your friend. 

Your body wash’s scent joins in, suds gliding over your skin, cleansing you. 

Over that summer break, there were only a handful of days when Dave wasn’t over at your house. It was new for you, to be around somebody so much, to not get bored of their presence after a short while. But Dave was different. He challenged you, never backed down from a discussion, riled you up just for the fun of it.

One evening, the day coming to a close, you were both sprawled out over your mattress, feet dangling off the edge. Golden light was spilling through the open window and painting shapes onto your wall, when he told you how his parents were fighting after moving here for his dad’s job, how he preferred being with you, away from the shouting and the following silence. 

You made plans about running together, to a country far away, to become knights, or pirates maybe. Painting stories with your words, creating adventures that you would have together, each idea more exciting than the last. 

The light was already gone, but none of you had moved to put on a lamp, so you were lying in the semi-darkness, your shoulders almost touching. His breath hitched before he quietly admitted that he was scared of going to a new school, of not knowing anyone. 

“You know me,” you had replied, sliding your small hand into his, squeezing reassuringly. 

“Yeah,” he had agreed, squeezing back. 

You let the water wash everything away, until both your hair and your body are clean again. 

Dave had fit in without issue, getting along with the other kids just fine, but you never strayed from each other. Side by side, from hopping on the bright yellow school bus in the morning until parting in the evening. 

He was there to talk you into climbing trees much higher than you would have dared alone. He held you when you were sobbing after falling off your bike, both your hands and knees bloody and burning. He built his snowmen right next to yours on the lawn between your two houses. Always right there by your side, and you were right by his. Trading books back and forth, learning how to ride a skateboard when he did, opening your window for him and letting him crawl into bed with you when his parents were fighting in the evenings. 

Your nerves flare up. Just a few more moments under the hot stream, just a few more moments of not needing to think.

You were both lazing on your parents’ sofa, your head in Dave’s lap and remains of a frozen pizza cooling on the coffee table. One of your favorite movies was playing on the TV, one that you had both seen so often that you could recite every line by heart. 

“She’s pretty,” Dave said, eyes trained on the actress on the screen when you tilted your head to look up at him. His voice had become deeper this year, and from where you were laying, you could see hints of a stubble scattering his chin. “Like you,” he added, his gaze flickering down to your face. 

Heat bloomed in your cheeks and your eyelashes fluttered as you giggled. Your hands found a throw pillow that you whacked against his arm, a “shut up” on your lips that came out way too breathy. 

He laughed too, shrugging in that nonchalant way of his, as if to say ‘What? You are.’

Finally, you turn the water off and step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around yourself.

As you grew older, you noticed how other girls looked at Dave. More than once, you had been asked if the two of you were dating, had seen how relief painted their smiles to be more genuine when you assured them that you were ‘just friends’. 

“Can you bring him to my birthday party, then? Please? He never comes when we invite him ourselves.” One girl from your biology class looked at you with big, hopeful eyes. 

Your quiet nod was followed with an excited giggle, and as you watched her retreating figure, a sharp sting made itself known in your chest. You couldn’t imagine Dave liking someone, spending as much time with them as he did with you. Having hobbies, inside jokes that you weren’t part of. You didn’t want to imagine that.

Your hair dries slowly, as warm air whips around your head and you stare at yourself in the mirror. Finally, you can put it up, a hairdo similar to one Dave once told you he liked. 

Still, you entered the house, filled with thumping music, flashing lights and drunk teenagers with Dave by your side. His eyes flickered over the scenery before he pulled you into his side by your arm, sending pinpricks of something through you. 

You giddily accepted when someone handed you both a beer, clinked your bottle against his and eagerly took a swig. Your brow furrowed, lips pursed, before you broke out into a laugh to see a similar expression of distaste on Dave’s face. But you took another sip, and then another, until you felt strangely weightless and the world around you turned blurry. 

It didn’t matter, because you were anchored to Dave’s face in front of you. Everything was funny, both of you dancing clumsily, laughing for no reason, until you were breathless, your skin damp with sweat.

You would have denied it at the time, but maybe the underwear you're putting on had been bought with Dave in mind. Not at the forefront, but he had always been there.

You were walking home together, faces illuminated by the glow of the streetlamps. Your hand had slipped into his and he held on tight, like you’d vanish into the darkness if he let go. It was nice, the warmth of his hand engulfing yours. Something you thought you could get used to. 

“Did you even talk to Laura?” you wondered, the words coming out a little slurred. “She asked me to bring you, you know. I think she likes you.” 

You weren’t sure what you wanted him to say, what you’d do if he liked her too. 

Dave snorted, throwing an arm around you and pulling you close.

“No. And I only like you.” 

“Yeah, but that’s different. I’m your best friend.”

A fingernail rips a hole into your tights as you pull them up your leg. You curse under your breath as you retrieve another one from your suitcase.

He took you to prom, the possibility of going with anyone else never even entering your minds. He had drunk you in as you descended down the stairs, before he took an exaggerated bow and grabbed your hand, pulling you out the door in a fit of laughter. 

It would have been so easy, that night, when he danced with you. To take that one step closer, to just brush your lips against his. Quick enough to play it off as a mistake. But you never did. 

A dress follows, ending just below your knees. The fabric is cool against your heated skin, calming your nerves a little. 

Dave drove you to college, along endless strips of road, with the end still looming just beyond the horizon. He played the mixtape you had made together when you were sixteen. He sang along with you, smiled when he caught you stealing glances at him. 

You never wanted to let go of him, hugged him to you for several minutes. Waiting, wishing for his warmth, his scent, to surround you until you were part of him, until you wouldn’t have to watch him leave. 

He wiped the tears off your face, his fingertips tender against your skin, his own eyes shiny. 

Doing your makeup is tough today. Your hands don’t stop shaking. 

He didn’t call as often as he said, not that you expected him to. Military training was hard, and when you did talk to him, he sounded exhausted. 

He wasn’t slipping away from you, not really, but you could tell that there were things he didn’t want to, couldn’t talk about. His voice turned colder, his answers clipped, not leaving room for questions.

You had a few boyfriends, guys from your classes. But none of them ever managed to make you feel less lonely. None ever felt like they really understood you. The way Dave used to. 

Finally, you’re content with the face you see in the mirror. The bathroom turns dark as you flip the switch.

You both went home for Christmas, had you counting down the days for weeks every year. 

He looked so different each time, his features sharper than you had ever seen them, a never fading tension in his jaw and his eyes stormy, the warmth that you had known all your childhood almost completely drained out. 

Still, he held you like he used to, still smelling like him, like home. 

I miss you, you wanted to scream every time you said your goodbyes again. I miss my best friend.

You put on heels, your steps muffled by the carpet.

He told you that he met someone late one evening years later, the telephone cord wrapped around your fingers, the plastic pressed against your ear. 

You forced a smile that he couldn’t see, ignoring the searing pain in your chest, telling yourself that it was good that he had someone. He had never liked you like that, you were just a ghost from his past at this point. A monthly phone call, nostalgia tying you to each other more than anything else. 

You attended their wedding, tried to see what Dave saw, tried to be happy that he was happy. You just couldn’t tell if he was. He smiled when he was supposed to, laughed at jokes, held his wife’s hand, danced with her, but there was a void of nothingness in his eyes. 

Your mother’s words echoed through your mind, how often she had teased you about how the both of you would surely get married someday. Your twelve year old self had hated it. 

But, apparently, hidden deep inside your heart, you had hoped too.

You slip your purse and phone into a handbag. There are several notifications as the screen lights up briefly, but you ignore them. 

It was no use trying to picture the boy you used to know as a father, aligning your best friend Dave with this new version of him. 

His voice had been ecstatic when he told you, more alive than he had sounded in years. 

You had cried yourself to sleep that night.

After putting your coat on, the door falls shut behind you. Your steps echo through the stairwell. 

Calls had become farther in between. You didn’t blame him. He had a whole life, a whole family. 

Until your doorbell rang. Until he showed up on your doorstep, late at night, deep circles under his eyes, his hair a mess, his fingers twitching. 

You ushered him inside, questions of ‘are you okay?’ and ‘are you hurt?’ on your lips. He caught your hands, fluttering over his face, his shoulders. His fingers rubbed over your skin, his warmth sinking in, a sensation that you had almost forgotten pulled back to the surface. 

He cupped your face, searched your eyes as he slowly leaned closer, his lips almost touching yours. You reacted without thinking, your own lips finding his. A thing that you hadn’t realized you wanted until it was too late, and now it was happening, here in your hall, after you hadn’t spoken to him for months. 

“Dave, what—” 

He parted from you breathlessly, his hands dropping to his sides.

“I’m sorry.” One hand ran over his face, before his eyes locked on yours again. “I’ve been— I think I made a mistake. I don’t know if— I think something bad might happen.” 

“What do you mean?” You had never seen him like this, so out of sorts, all his carefully built composure crumbling down. 

A sad smile pulled at his mouth before he stepped closer again, his arms engulfing you, pressing you against his chest. 

“I can’t say. But—” His lips moved against your hair, down to your neck, his breath hot on your skin. “I never told you. I always thought you deserved better, and now you never even knew—” 

Understanding glimmered at the edges of your mind, giving his words a meaning that couldn’t be right. 

“It’s been you,” he murmured into your skin, “it’s always been you.” 

You pulled him back by the hair at his nape, messing it up further. His eyes were swimming with sadness, so much that you couldn’t bear it. Your lips connected with his again. Anything to take his pain away, anything to let him know. 

“It’s always been you for me, too.” It was barely a breath, shared between the both of you. 

“I have to do something. But I’ll come back to you, I promise.”

It’s raining as you walk to your car. You take a deep breath, sinking into the leather seat. It’s only a short drive to the cemetery. 

It has echoed in your head every day since. The words he said, the look of grim determination on his face as he stepped outside again. One last squeeze of your hand, and then he was gone.

Putting your car into park, you step back out into the downpour, your shoes crunching on the short walk over gravel.

You spot Carol, tears streaking her face just like your own. Dressed in black, just like you. Two little girls clinging to her. 

He didn’t come back.

thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are love <3