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peachysunrize · 4 months

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Labyrinth ⥃ Aemond Targaryen

Summary: falling in love is easy for most people, but not for Aemond Targaryen. How can a broken cold-hearted man be able to love the most gentle human Westeros has ever seen?

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, very very gentle, angst angst angst angst!!!, humiliation, reader is Daemon & Laena’s oldest daughter, no description for reader (besides white hair) you can imagine her however you like, Aemond is a vulnerable & insecure baby girl, like he is really really insecure, mentions of murder, fluff, nightmares, chronic pain, mentions of Aemond’s injury, anxiety attack, babes are in looooove, English isn’t my first language<3 it’s very heavily plotted and the smut is at the end of the story.

Word count: 11.5k (she's so long but worth it)

a/n: I’ve always wanted to write something with this kind of trope, especially when it’s from the man’s pov, and there’re so little fics that get into the depths of Aemond’s pain and suffering so I needed to try and write something that says his part of the story as well! Please please tell me your opinions and favorite lines of this piece! I’ve worked sooo hard for this fic and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Reblogs and comments are appreciated<3🩷

A very special thank you to my babies, @namelesslosers & @neptuneiris for beta-ing and supporting my ideas😭🫂✨

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?”

Aemond watches the scene unfold in front of him; his mother seeking justice for him, slashing Rhaenyra’s forearm with the dagger in her hand, spilling her blood in fury.

He looks around the room, finding you scared behind your grandfather, looking at him with wide teary eyes. He scowls when he sees how you look at him with pity, thinking he is a deformed monster in your eyes, to his best friend’s eyes.

You leave the hall in a rush, and he scoffs at how unbearable he must look for you to go in such haste, allowing this injustice to wreck his world and him to cope with the aftermath alone. How could you leave him like that? What happened to all the hours he helped you build that stupid sandcastle next to where Vhagar lays? Did you forget every moment, every laughter you had together?

He stands up and walks to his mother, telling her that Vhagar is worth it. But is it true? It might be worth gaining the largest dragon alive, but in the back of his mind, he thinks about how he has lost you.

No, you left him, he hasn’t done anything wrong. He is the one with his eye in a tray, he is the one who needs tending to for the first time, and you left him while he and his mother were humiliated by Rhaenyra and her bastards.

The morning comes sooner than expected, the milk of the poppy knocked him out immediately last night. He walks down the stairs where his family is gathering to leave, his mother holding Helaena’s hand while god knows where his father is, probably saying his goodbyes to his daughter and Princess Rhaenys.

Aemond moves toward the hill that Vhagar is sleeping on, catching the sight of you waiting for him next to the sandcastles he helped you build yesterday after your mother’s funeral.

“What do you want?” he asks, standing in front of you, trying not to frown too much to loosen his stitches.

“I-I wanted to ask how you were doing…”

“After leaving me all alone? You were my friend! I needed you and you left me! And you ask how I am after I got my eye cut out?” He shouts at you, waking up Vhagar from her drowsy nap.

“I-I don’t have any excuses, but Aemond, please—” “No, I hate you! I hate your stupid hair, your eyes, your laugh, even-even your sandcastles! They are so childish and-and ugly!” “I know you are upset with me, and I’m so sorry for what happened to you, but please let me—” “No!” he yells at you again, marching toward the castle next to your feet before he stomps all over it, screaming and crying while he ruins the perfect sculpture he himself has made for you.

“Aemond…” the sob that wrecks through you makes him stop, but you are not looking at his feet, you are looking at his face, crying for him. He doesn’t spare a glance at you when he walks to climb Vhagar’s saddle, but guilt overwhelms his emotions and dread fills him.

You just wanted to talk, and he treated you so poorly even if his anger was justified.

Oblivious to him, as soon as he and his family were gone, you ran to your grandmother, crying in her arms and begging her to allow you to study with Maesters, in hopes that someday you may help your childhood friend with the pain he will carry for the rest of his life.

•••••••••••

Jacaerys’ name day, another pathetic excuse to have his sister and her pups in the capital under the same roof, drinking and wasting the crown’s money. He can’t blame them though, they’re desperate to get on the lords’ good sides by showing off their heritage, going with songs and praises for the heir after his mother.

Unnecessary, stupid…

Aemond groans, running his hand over his face as he wakes up with the sounds of banging in the hallway. He knows that they’re arriving today, and he’s aware that the royal chambers should be ready when his sister makes a face, but to wake him up at such an early hour after the rough night he had should have severe consequences.

With another deep groan, he sits up on his bed, looking at the sea from between the sheer curtains of his room, watching the sunlight shine bright on the surface of the water, Sunfyre and Dreamfyre already taking turns in the sky over the city.

He stands up, looking down at the soaked undershirt he had on during sleep, exhaling deeply as he pulls the fabric off, slamming it down on the couch as he walks to the balcony to get some fresh air. The morning breeze hits his sweat-covered chest, stinging the empty socket of his eye.

He knows he should go back inside, to cover his scar and avoid pain from the cold wind, but the contrast of the coldness of it on his heated skin is soothing his mind, calming his beating heart. He will regret it during the day, but for now, after experiencing yet another nightmare, he needs to feel alive again.

As soon as the sharp pain starts from the depths of his skull, he moves back, shutting the door and pulling the curtains closed. He stands straight, his nails digging inside his palms as he controls, or tries to control his breathing.

It always starts like this; a sting, then another one but sharper, then a minimal pain that surrounds his scar, and finally, the stabbing pain all over his face followed by the worst headache someone can ever endure.

He reaches for the nearest surface he can lean on, knuckles turning white as he keeps his weight up, trying not to fall on his knees just yet.

He can do it, he has done it countless times.

Aemond steadies himself on his feet before he sighs shakily, walking towards the clothes his mother’s servants laid down for him yesterday. It is a simple outfit; a leather tunic with black pants and a fresh beige undershirt. Nothing too fancy, and nothing less regal that a prince should wear.

He takes his time while getting ready, allowing the phantom pain of his eye to fade away slowly. Before he can button up his tunic, his chamber servants come running in, putting a bowl of water with a warm towel on the side desk while they prepare his breakfast. He covers the left side of his face with his hand so as to not scare them with the unbearable sight of the empty space in his face.

He watches them with a sleepy gaze as they clear the room, slamming the door behind them. Aemond sits in front of his mirror, taking the brush in his hand to untangle his unruly hair.

There are no thoughts in his head as he stares blankly at his reflection; he hates his scar with a passion that could set the realm on fire. There is no gentleness in his features, everything is sharp, angular, and rough. There is no trace left of the boy he was before his nephew took out his eye.

Doomed before he could even try to become someone worthy.

He ties his hair, revealing more of the healed wound and the dark empty socket on his face. Sometimes he gets stuck inside the labyrinth of his head, running and running until he reaches the middle, but it’s never enough. At the end of the maze, someone drops dead; whether he kills them or they kill him. There is no escape from these dreams, from these self-destructive thoughts that haunt him day and night.

He reaches for a box on the vanity, pulling out the sapphire gem before reaching for an ointment Maester has given him to help the gem fill his eye socket without pain.

He looks at himself again; he looks less like a brute, the gem adds to his beauty but in his mind, it’s not enough, it’ll never be. He sees his brothers, healthy and handsome, being subjected to women’s attention all the time, and sometimes he wishes desperately to be in their place, to be able to talk to a lady without frightening her. But he has learned that a maimed man is less worthy than a whore in Streets of Silk, so he exercises and trains daily to become worthy again, to live up to his Targaryen name. There are deep yet little scars adorning all over the skin of his hands and arms — a reminder of how he has become the man he is.

He eats his breakfast in silence, tension rising in his shoulders as the smoke of the candles on his desk reaches his eye. He drops his spoon on the table, blowing the candles out before he reaches for his eyepatch.

He has told everyone that there shouldn’t be any scented candles in his rooms, but as it seems no one ever pays attention to what he has to say, not even to help with the pain of his eye.

He stands up, knocking a few plates on the table to the floor, smearing fresh fruits on his carpet. A deep groan rumbles through his chest, but he can’t care less about anything other than the fact that he needs to join his family in the throne room — and he does after he grabs his dagger and secures it in his belt.

“Ser,” Aemond nods at his appointed guard, earning a ‘good morning, my prince’ from him. Aemond walks down the stairs with his head held high, scoffing at the servants who make a path for him hurriedly, trying to avoid being seen by him or see him.

The bustling of the castle is irritating; everyone is running from one corner to another and decorating the keep for their princess’ arrival. He is not annoyed that he has to reunite with his sister and nephews, but because he has to endure their presence for longer than necessary, to look them in the eye and act civil as if the pain he copes with already isn’t enough torment from them.

He nods at Ser Cole, who follows him into the crowded hall, eying everyone who is waiting for the Realm’s delight. Aegon and Helaena are standing side by side, his sister is clutching Aegon’s arm tightly as the crowd makes her feel small under its gaze. His mother looks at the throne silently, and he can see the hesitation in her eyes — how are they going to go through these weeks of celebration, they have no idea.

“Good morrow, Mother,” he whispers as he stands behind her, his eye softening at the small smile she gives him, “you look radiant this morning.”

“Hush you, sweet talker,” she chuckles lowly, rubbing his arms lovingly, “have you heard about the Velaryons’ arrival?”

“Lord Corlys is coming as well?” he asks, shifting on his feet nervously, his fingers tightening slightly on Alicent’s elbows, “I did not know…” “Neither did I, darling. They shall arrive at the same time as Rhaenyra, at least I know Daemon’s eldest will.”

“Driving on dragonback, obviously,” he mutters, sighing shakily.

Alicent notices his hesitancy, she gently cups his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eyes, “Do not project your anger on her, she was but a child.”

“Yet she kept silent that night. She was supposed to be my friend,” he says, looking away from his mother, lowering his head in shame, beating himself for letting his emotions take hold of him.

“Give your courtesy and leave if you wish not to talk to her,” Alicent smiles sadly at Aemond, patting his cheek before they both look at the doors of the hall.

Something in his guts drops when he sees Rhaenyra entering, her family walking towards them, all smiling and laughing as if they aren’t going to experience the most dreadful weeks of their lives.

“Your grace,” Rhaenyra says, trying to break the visible tension between the families. The crowd goes silent, and the only thing they can hear is the soft exhales of the people close to them, everyone waiting with bated breath to see what happens in a few seconds.

“Princess,” Alicent smiles, “welcome back to your home,” she replies politely, giving Daemon a half courtesy before she congratulates Jacaerys for his eight-and-ten name day.

“Aegon…”

Aemond looks away from his sister as she acknowledges them all, instead his eye finds Daemon’s who is staring back at him with a smirk on his face. Aemond’s gaze doesn’t waver, and Daemon chuckles at that, giving him a challenging look.

He looks back at Rhaenyra who says his name, giving him a forced smile before she turns around quickly and asks for the King.

“He is quite unwell, he shall join us in the evening,” Alicent explains, telling the maids to make haste and set the garden ready to start the celebrations; nothing too fancy for the noon, a tea gathering in the garden to reunite everyone, or at least to make sure the court has something to gossip about.

Aemond follows them slowly, taking time to observe each and every one of them. He can’t shake the uneasy feeling that settles in his chest as his eye finds Lucerys Velaryon, laughing and looping his arm with Rhaena. He looks away immediately, lips forming into a sneer as he walks with his hands behind him, grinding his teeth while he thinks about how he was robbed of everything good because of that bastard, because of the hideous scar he gave him.

The garden is filled with new bushes; roses, lilacs, daisies, and surprisingly winter roses. The sight would have been quite beautiful if all this fuss wasn’t for his nephew. He walks away from the crowd, making his way toward his siblings who are trying to appeal content with the events. Helaena is in her own world, lifting a worm from the ground as she counts its feet. Aegon is gulping down his wine while he listens to Daeron telling him about whatever book he has read these past few days, or at least he seems like he is paying attention.

Aemond sighs, grabbing a goblet of wine himself to nurse on it as he tries to distract himself from the chilly wind that hits his face. Luckily the eyepatch covers his eye socket fully and doesn’t let the cold breeze hit his scar, but the tension in his bones has remained from the morning rush of pain he experienced earlier. It’d be best if he left this pointless gathering earlier anyway.

“How are you faring this beautiful morning, brother?” Aegon asks him, grinning sarcastically. Daeron groans in response, even though the question wasn’t meant for him. Everyone can tell he is fed up with Aegon’s constant teasing of Rhaenyra’s family coming back to Red Keep.

“Well enough to know I will be leaving in a few minutes,” Aemond replies, sipping on his wine as he catches Luke stealing glances at him. Pathetic, he is too scared to even look at him properly, he is glad though, it gives him a sense of comfort to know the mark he has left on his face scares him enough to keep him away from him.

“Can’t do that! It’d be rude if you left without saying hi to our favorite Velaryons.” Aegon smirks, tipping his head back as he laughs at Aemond’s sneer.

“As much as I hate to say this, but the idiot is right; you can’t give them more reasons to resent us,” Daeron says, looking at his older brother with kind eyes, “besides, they are here anyway.” he points at the passageway leading to the garden, catching the sight of Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys walking side by side toward the crowd.

Aemond’s heart stops for a second when his good eye lays upon you, following your grandparents with a gentle smile grazing your lips. You are a sight to behold; silver hair falling around your shoulders like curtains of moonlight that shine bright like a diamond beneath the morning rays of sunshine. Your gown the bluest of blue that shows your devotion to your mother’s house, and your lips painted pink in the most alluring way…

Aemond’s eye sees a sight his mind can not comprehend, too unreal and beautiful that makes him doubt if he is seeing you with his sapphire eye through the patch.

His face is blank, but his heart is beating so fast he can hear his pulse in his ears. His eye follows you, watching you bow before his mother and sister, looking away immediately to find your sisters already giddy to hug you. Rhaena is the first to run to you, wrapping her arms around you while Baela approaches you slowly, letting her twin have her moment with you.

He doesn’t move from his spot, he can’t move even if he wants to; he’s struck between shock and something he can’t pinpoint; he can only say for sure that he hopes it’s a rush of adrenaline of not seeing you for so long.

The only time he looks away from you is when Daeron pats his back and encourages him to join everyone to say hello and welcome your family to the Keep. He doesn’t need to say a word, just a nod at both Corlys and Rhaenys is enough, but when you turn around to greet him and his siblings, his breath gets stuck in his lungs.

You look at him from beneath your lashes, beaming so radiantly at him that he almost forgets the pain in his eye or the pain he has caused you the last time he saw you. The world around him fades away, the noises become distance as his sky-blue eye finds yours easily, and he has to swallow sharply while he desperately tries to keep his face stoic and serious and not show you how he is panicking from inside, palms sweaty and lips drying while he gazes at you, his childhood friend who… suddenly the bubble around you breaks and he remembers how you abandoned him that night at Driftmark.

“My lady,” he says in a hushed tone, watching your reaction closely.

“My prince, it’s so good to see you again,” you grin at him, “I hope you are doing well.”

“As well as a half-blinded man can do,” averting his eye from you, he regrets the words he said immediately, flushing a bit in embarrassment, but when he looks back at you, your smile hasn’t left your face, if anything you look at him with empathy and much kindness that he has a hard time believing you are real; it’s been too long since anyone has looked at him with such sincerity.

“Darling,” Daemon steps closer to them, ruining the moment for Aemond to say something, anything to take back what he said earlier.

He watches your smile wavering a little when you look at your father, hands fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. He notices how you try to ignore your father and Rhaenyra as they approach you, a tense smile on his sister’s lips while she tightens her grip on her husband’s arm.

“We have missed you, the girls, and I,” Daemon says, reaching to caress your hair as gently as the Rogue prince can, “you did not visit us at Dragonstone.” “I don’t like it there, the castle unnerves me,” You reply softly, “I rather enjoy the silence of grandsire’s castle.” “You are a Targaryen, you should visit your ancestor’s sit,” Rhaenyra tries her best to persuade you to think about coming back with them, leaving your lovely grandparents alone.

“I’m a Velaryon just as much as I’m a Targaryen, but ‘tis not a matter we should discuss at such a joyous day, don’t you think, princess?” you say, and Aemond sees it in your eyes how desperately you wish for the conversation to end. Aemond watches his sister’s words falter, her confidence crumbling with each word that you utter. Your statement is not rude, not even filled with malicious intent, but the mention of your Mother’s side of the family makes the Targaryen couple uncomfortable.

“I would have loved to stay and talk with you, Father, but I’m afraid the journey on dragonback has left me starving. Please, excuse me,” you nod at them before walking past them to the corner where Aemond and his siblings were sitting minutes ago, reaching for a glass of wine to gulp down.

Aemond doesn’t spare a glance at the couple, following you closely so he can sit in silence and out of the sun, truly not wishing for another fit of agony that consumes his skull.

“You have grown, Aemond,” you sit beside him, turning your head to look at his side profile, “no longer the child who used to build sandcastles with me when I would visit the Keep.”

“Yes, no longer a child with friends. Spending years apart without any contact, surely you are not that surprised how I have turned out to be,” he scoffs at your words, frowning when he turns around and finds you chuckling gently, “Did I jest about something I’m not aware of?”

“No, no, I just remembered how we promised to never let anyone break us apart, but you were the first who did so; you stomped your feet on my sandcastles the morning after my Mother’s funeral. You are right though, no ravens were exchanged, but I do hope you’re still the sweet prince who helped me study.” your lips twist into a small smile.

You are not angry with him, how can you not be angry with him? You had spent hours after they freed your Mother’s soul into the sea to find the perfect place to build your sandcastles and he ruined them the morning he was about to leave.

Your teary eyes have haunted him from that moment to this day.

“I apologize, I did not wish to remind you of that night,”

“I’m reminded every time I look into a mirror, do not concern yourself.” his reply is curt as he gazes at you, your eyes full of sadness and sympathy for a man you no longer know. Or maybe you know him too much, he thinks.

“I look forward to spending time with you, my prince. I hope we can catch up on each other's lives.” “Perhaps we can,” he sounds unsure of himself, Getting to know you again while you have turned into a woman grown — the most beautiful woman he has ever seen at that — is going to be a challenge he does not know he welcomes or fears greatly.

•••••••••••

He leaves sooner than he should, hiding in his room with a warm towel on his face as he soothes the pain of his eye, the headache he had since morning finally fading away. There are so many thoughts lingering in his head, and ironically, they are all filled by you; your gown, bright smile, and gentle personality.

He groans, so frustrated that he has met you a few hours prior yet you have consumed his every thought. If he focuses hard enough, he can see the labyrinth of his nightmares, the hedges are covered in ivy, suffocating as they reach for air — he thinks of him as the hedge, and how easily he has let you wrap yourself around his thoughts this quickly.

Weak, he thinks to himself, he’s weak.

He sits up, dropping the towel in the bowl on his nightstand, breathing deeply as he looks around his dark room, spotting a lit candle on his desk in the corner.

Sometimes it baffles him how his room represents his inner self so openly; it’s not messy, no, but if you squint you can see the abandoned book in the foot of his chair, ink dripping from his pot on the carpet, the candle illuminating the trail of black paint on his desk. It seems as if his room is showing the ugly part of itself to his eye, and for a second he thinks about how he sees himself — an ugly monster with an unsightly scar.

Aemond leaves his room a few minutes after fixing his eyepatch and hair, walking to the king’s solar to join his family for dinner. He walks with his hands clasped together behind him, looking straight to avoid eye contact with anyone who sees him on his way up the stairs. He doesn't expect to see you of all people, heading out of your room to take the same path as him.

“Aemond!” You say his name with such enthusiasm that has his heart racing again, beaming at him as if you are excited to see him. How could you be this giddy to meet him? No one has expressed to be happy to spend time with him, let alone smile at him the way you do. Is this an act of modesty? It has to be, he thinks, or else it does not make sense at all.

“My lady,” he bows his head politely, “How come you are late for such an interesting gathering?”

You giggle a little, walking side by side with him, “I was spending some time with Helaena’s children. Oh, they are such sweet babes!”

“Indeed they are,” he replies quietly, watching you curiously as you round him to stand on his good side, “what are you doing, My Lady?”

“I did not realize I was on your blind side, Aemond, forgive me,” “There is nothing to forgive,” he sucks in a harsh breath, pondering over your response for the rest of the way til King’s solar. The silence is oddly comfortable even though he gets a bit nervous when you keep glancing at him.

There’s an unusual warmth spreading through his chest, he can’t understand it — it can be his heart since it’s beating too hard and fast, or perhaps even his lungs! He can’t even breathe properly, but at the same time, he feels… right, much better than before. He blames you for the conflicted emotions, it’s all your doings, he is sure. Because whenever he looks at you, he feels as if his clothes are suffocating him, his ears ring while the world fades around him, and the center of his world becomes you.

Weak, worthless, he has just met you, yet all these years apart seem blurry to him, as if he has known you since the age of the Firstmen; so familiar and comforting, even though you left him alone the night he needed you the most.

The guards open the door to the solar, and Aemond follows you inside, his eye wandering all over the room, taking his surroundings in. His mother and Rhaenyra are sitting at the table, his nephews are standing on their mother’s side while Aegon is trying to listen to whatever lecture Otto is giving him.

He watches you walk to your sisters, wrapping your arms around Baela and Rhaena as they both start talking to you about the things they have done during the past years you’ve been Lord Corlys’ ward in Driftmark.

“You’re staring,” Daeron says out of nowhere, pulling Aemond out of his thoughts but he doesn’t look away, he keeps his eye trailing on you until you turn around and catch his eye as well, smiling broadly at him.

“I am merely observing,” he replies, but knows his brother is right. It’s only the first dinner but he can already feel his eye itching to be on you again.

“Whatever makes you happy,” Daeron shrugs, leading him to Aegon and Helaena to sit down.

He finds an empty seat next to him, thinking Daeron is the one who’d sit beside him, but when he sees it’s you who reaches for the chair, his heart leaps to his throat before he composes himself quickly, pulling it out like the prince he is.

You give a smile that is worth countless gold dragons, and for the second time today, he questions if the sapphire is a magical eye, because the world turns a bit brighter and less dull when he looks at you. He sits next to you, his eyebrows twisting into a deep frown when he sees Lucerys at the other side of the table engaged in a deep conversation with Rhaena, playing the role of the happy family quite well.

Everyone stands up when the guards bring in the King, everyone except for Helaena but neither she nor Aemond pays any attention to others. One is busy playing with her hairpin, and he is busy admiring your ethereal face as you kiss the king, your uncle’s cheek, thanking him for having you and your grandparents in his home after so many years. As soon as Viserys sits behind the table, you take your place next to him again, giving him a small smile before you turn your head to listen to what his father has to say.

He knows what his father is about to say; first, he thanks them all for coming, paying special attention to his grandsons and Rhaenyra while he lies over and over again about how much he loves them all, how they should never let the House of the Dragon fall into ruins, oblivious to the fact that not Rhaenyra nor Alicent were the ones who broke the family into different agendas, but it was him who started the flame.

Tonight, Aemond doesn’t look at his sister to attend to her. His eye is solely on you, taking in the shape of your lashes kissing your cheekbones, carving the silhouette of your nose and lips in his memories. He looks at the way your lips curve into a grin, cheeks forming into the most beautiful shape he has ever witnessed.

You turn your head a little to glance at him, catching him red-handed while he tries to play it cool, but he finds that he is not powerful enough to look away from your blown-out pupils and the orange hue that’s cast on your irises softly.

He breaks the eye contact, a scowl forming on his face as he reaches for his goblet of wine, nearly throwing the goblet across the table when he hears Lucerys laughing at the two of you.

You beat him to it before he could open his mouth, “Is there something funny, Prince Lucerys?” your voice is so soft and slow, almost humiliatingly sweet, and funnily, it terrifies Luke.

Aemond smirks as he watches his nephew stuttering over his words while everyone around the table sits in uncomfortable silence, waiting for the young prince to say something, anything.

“I was surprised by how fast Uncle Aemond took a liking to you, given his looks and all,” he explains, sarcasm dripping like honey from each of his words.

Fucking bastard, Aemond thinks to himself as an ugly sneer sits on his face. As much as he wants to leap toward him and cut off his tongue, he can’t — not when you put your hand on his over the hilt of his dagger.

Your skin is so smooth atop his calloused one. The way your fingers wrap around his wrist sets his body on fire, burning the skin in a way unknown to any man, but this is no ordinary burn; there’s no trace of fire, no long-forgotten ashes of his bones are visible, instead his fingers twitch for more, begging for more skin to skin contact, but he pulls his hand away from you without looking away from Luke’s blushing face.

“Your words are mean for no reason, Lucerys, given how it’s been your doing that has caused Aemond his scar,” you say, “I find him quite handsome actually. He was my beloved friend when we were younger. There are, of course, many feelings between us. Nothing has happened out of the blue for you to mock him for.”

“I-I apologize, good sister, I wasn’t…”

“It is not me who you should apologize to, it’s Aemond. I have taken no offense on my behalf but I do believe you owe him an apology.” You explain, sipping from your glass slowly while keeping your eyes on Lucerys.

No one, not even the King has the strength to intrude into the situation, maybe in doubt of saying something to hurt you, or perhaps you’re just speaking the truth, and for once, everyone fears your gentle mannerisms.

“I apologize, uncle,”

Aemond’s stare is blank as he looks at Luke who’s chewing the inside of his cheek in embarrassment. He nods, not bothering to reply to him; he will never forgive nor forget what he has done to him, crushing his hopes and ruining his worth for a lifetime.

“Let us put our differences aside, and become a family again,” the king says, coughing before he reaches to drink from his cup.

The dinner goes smoothly from there and to Aemond’s surprise, he engages in more conversations with you. He does not talk too much, he’d rather listen to your giggles and stories rather than talk about his boring and miserable life.

His eye always lingers on you for far longer than it should, not in an inappropriate way, but more in a sense of intrigue and curiosity, trying to understand you from his perspective. He simply can’t though; you are worlds apart. He is a cold-hearted, broken, and worthless man when it comes to your bright and beautiful personality. Even if he gets to know you again after so many years, he would never think himself worthy enough to be in your presence.

“Aemond…?” you call his name oh so sweetly, making him feel as if he is on top of Vhagar, flying atop the city while the wind blows in his hair; it makes him feel alive.

“Yes, My Lady?”

“Are you alright? You look quite flushed,” You smile sweetly, reaching to put the back of your hand on his cheek, flustering him even more than he already is.

“Yes, yes, I might have had too much wine,” he doesn’t know who he is trying to convince; you or him? By the sound of it, it’s him who needs to be convinced that it’s the wine in his blood and not the same unknown feeling he gets when you look at him. No, it is definitely the wine. It has to be.

“Oh, well then, I wish to spend more time with you if you are not against it,”

“Why would I be?” he asks almost too quickly, making you chuckle at his… enthusiasm. If he can even call it that.

“Then I’d be overjoyed if we could rebound what we had as children.”

•••••••••••

After the dinner, something between you and Aemond shifted; he spent more time outside his room, he was calmer and less serious, and the pain in his skull was almost gone. You joined him in the library a few times in the next few days, meeting each other at your door to attend the meals side by side, and almost everyone could feel how he was changing the longer he had you close, almost turning into the little boy he once was.

Both of you forget your last interactions as an act of mercy for the other.

With your insistence, he agreed to miss the tourney being held for Jace’s nameday to sneak out of the castle and take you to the beach. He did not need much convincing, but when you gave him those doe eyes with a little pout on your lips, he felt weaker than he ever did and gave in immediately.

Aemond helps you down the rocks near the shoreline with your small hands in his, taking cautious steps down to not trip over and hurt yourself. He keeps his eye on your feet instead of his, worrying more about you than himself even though he is stepping down with his good eye on you, not looking where he is going.

That seems to be a bad decision, because the next second, not only does his foot miss a small rock, but yours slips on one too, tumbling into his arms as the two of you fall on the soft sand, Aemond’s arms wrapping tightly around your back to keep you steady.

He looks at you, panting as his eye widens at the closeness; your faces are inches away from each other, and he can feel your soft rushed exhales on his lips. You look like a goddess atop him, the sun illuminating your silver hair, reminding him of the last sennight when you arrived and your hair made your face shine even brighter.

He has never seen such a beauty before, sure he has seen the ladies of the court, but your Valyrian beauty combined with sunlight and the blue hue of the sky has him mesmerized, not realizing how his hands are gripping your waist while he stares at you.

You giggle at first, then break into a fit of laughter while you lean more into him, dropping your forehead on his shoulder as you laugh wholeheartedly.

He chuckles lowly at first, then matches your laughter and throws his head back, holding you on him by one arm while the other comes to run over his face.

“I have never heard you laugh so freely before,” you say after you have calmed down, putting your palms on either side of his face while you hover over him.

“I don’t remember having a reason to do so,” he replies, smiling up at you.

“I’m glad that I’m able to bring joy to your life, you deserve it.” leaning down, you press a gentle kiss on his cheek before standing up, smoothing down your skirt.

He is at loss of words, speechless to his core. He deserves it, he thinks, do you truly think a monster like him deserves any chance of happiness? How are you not disgusted by him, his scar, his sour and mean tongue? How can you ever leave a butterfly kiss on someone as unworthy as him?

He looks at you from where he is staying lying on the sand, watching as you extend your hand to him, rocking on your heels in anticipation so you can go and wander on the beach and reunite with the sea.

He grabs your hand, standing up on his feet as well. There is sand in both of your clothes, but you have just begun your venture and won’t stop until you are satisfied.

You don’t let go of his hand when you start jogging, pulling him with you as you giggle in delight. And he observes you as he always does; wind in your hair, waves crashing against the shore while your laughter fills the air around him. He doesn’t realize his smile has widened and he is following you just as excited, letting the sand and the sea separate you from the outer world.

“You promised you would make a sandcastle for me!” you say, pulling him behind you to the spot where you would sneak away as children, sitting down to get to work.

“I did not,” he replies, unbuttoning his tunic so he can stay under the sun without being bothered by the heat.

“Fine, you did not. But you ruined the one we built together at Driftmark so you owe me one!”

He chuckles at you, his dimples on display as he shakes his head, “Alright, I will make one for you.”

It took you a good few hours to finish the sandcastle; it could have finished much sooner if you hadn’t thrown wet sand at him, cleaning your dirty hands with his white cotton undershirt just to annoy him — and it worked. In a second, he was chasing you around the beach with hands full of wet sand curved into balls, throwing them at you.

And here you are now, fingers laced together, shoes in one hand as you both walk on the shoreline, letting the waves cool your feet. You point at the sunset, leaning on his side when you come to a stop to watch the sky change color as the sun goes down.

Aemond on the other hand, looks at your calm face that is glowing under the pink and orange sunlight. How did he get so lucky to be blessed by such a beauty to lay his eye upon? Maybe he truly deserves this unknown feeling that spreads through him like fire and makes his fingers tingle and his heart beat in happiness. Maybe he deserves to be loved by you and love you unconditionally in return.

You turn around, dropping your shoes before you reach up to cup his cheeks. He closes his eye and basks in the attention you give him; so unique and pure. He drops his boots as well, arms circling your waist to pull you closer.

Aemond doesn’t dare to open his eye, fearing that he might ruin this perfect moment as you trace the lines of his lips, his cheekbones, and his jaw. You are so gentle with him, something he is not quite used to. It has always been him, alone in a cold room, but now and here with you, he feels as if he can breathe again, and forget every pain he has endured to reach this moment of his life.

“Open your eye, My Prince,” you whisper before you peck the corner of his lips, pulling him in so you can rest your forehead on his.

He obligates, sighing shakily when he finds you already looking at him. Your gaze is so genuine that somehow scares him, a rush of destructive thoughts comes into his head, but you seem to notice it from how his hands shake on your waist.

“Don’t think about anything, just… just focus on me.”

He does as you say, his brain shutting those annoying voices at the back of his head down as soon as your nose brushes against his, your soft lips brushing over his so endearingly. He is hesitant at first but when you peck him again, he moves forward as well, meeting you halfway until his lips are locked with yours.

You taste as sweet as the strawberry cakes you had this morning, if not sweeter. The way your lips move together makes his head hazy. You are kissing his breath away, leaving him begging for more. His chest moves up and down quickly when you break the kiss, and you caress his thin swollen lips, bruised by your kisses and lack of air, while he admires you from head to toe.

The sun has set, but the glimmer of love has risen inside of Aemond’s broken heart.

•••••••••••

A kiss here and there, more sneaking around the castle and to the beach until the main event for Jace’s birthday arrives. He is in his mother’s solar, listening to her talk about how lovely you are and how much of a wonderful couple you would make with him if only you weren’t Daemon’s daughter.

“Mother—”

“You should dance with her tonight, my darling!” Alicent says, running her hands over his arms when he stands up and approaches her, “I have heard Daemon has plans of betrothing her. Obviously, he has yet to find someone suitable, but he is thinking about it.”

Aemond’s heart drops when Alicent says your father is looking for a suiter, fortunately, Alicent sees his surprise, shock, and fear. She reaches to cup his cheek, forcing him to maintain eye contact while she talks, “Don’t let her go if you truly wish to have her. I know that she would stand strong against her father and Rhaenyra, but she would need your support and love as well to feel brave enough to turn down a good match.”

“They would make her happier than I can ever do, Mother,” he replies, his voice breaking slightly. Losing you terrifies him, and he is aware that his mother can read him like an open book, shushing him while he inhales sharply.

“I have never seen her happier than I have with you, and I have never seen you this happy and lively, darling. Be selfish for once, choose your happiness this time.”

“How can I choose my happiness over her life?!” he asks harshly, frowning at his mother.

A knock interrupts Alicent before she can respond, and the guards open the door for you to step inside the queen’s room.

“Oh, I apologize, it was not my intention to interrupt you.”

Aemond seems to be struck by your beauty; your body is wrapped in a teal-colored gown with a low neckline that leaves your shoulders and collarbones on display. Your silver hair is braided with some parts of it pinned up, some strands framing your bare neck.

“You look so beautiful, my darling,” Alicent says, nudging Aemond a bit forward when she sees how he is looking at you.

“Thank you, my queen. You look very beautiful as well,” you look away from the queen, smiling when he approaches you slowly, “you said you were going to wear something close to this color and I decided it would look quite good to match. How do I look?”

“Enchanting,” he breathes out, reaching to hold your hand, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “You look breathtaking, My Lady.”

“So do you, My Prince.”

“Shall we then?” he offers you his arm and you accept without hesitation, looking back to see if the queen will come with you and she assures you she will come with the King.

“You said you were going to retrieve me from my chambers for the party,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you walk toward the great hall.

“I am deeply sorry. Mother wanted to have a word with me,” he explains, dropping a quick kiss on the crown of your head.

“Is everything alright, Aemond?” you ask him, and he chuckles at how adorably your brows twist into a frown in worry. “Yes, darling, she merely wished to remind me to make sure you have a great time tonight. You are our special guest.”

“Does that mean you will dance with me?” you ask, holding his hands in yours before you reach the hall.

“We shall see,” he brings your hands to his lips again, leading you toward the hall, bowing and nodding at the ladies and lords who take it upon themselves to greet you.

You come to a stop in front of the table, Rhaena coming to hug you and twirl you around, gasping at the sight of your beautiful gown, gasping even louder when she sees how your dress matches Aemond’s tunic.

A ghost of a smile finds its way on Aemond’s face as he watches you get flustered at your sister’s attention to details, but soon, his eye hardens when he finds his uncle glaring at the two of you. Tonight will change the course of so many lives.

He watches you laugh with your sisters, pointing at the empty chair next to you so he would sit close by all night. With one last glare at his uncle, he walks to his seat and pours wine into his cup, blushing a bit when he hears you laughing again. You are not even laughing at something he has said and he is the one who gets flushed.

He is knee-deep inside these new feelings but he welcomes the challenge with open arms. Or at least he tries to do so without Daemon being an obstacle to his plans.

He looks at you when Rhanea and Helaena pull you to the dancefloor for the new song, pairing up with different lords to dance with, but what catches his eye, isn’t who you are dancing with, but more than who Daemon is talking to. He recognizes the lord to be from the south, probably a Tyrell, and when his uncle and the lord look in your direction, he knows something is not right, an uneasy feeling settling deep in his stomach.

He watches the lord closely as he makes his way through the crowd to get to you, bowing and introducing himself before taking your hand to dance with you. He can see how uncomfortable he is making you, probably discussing his sick desire to have a wife and kids while he dances with a Targaryen-Valeryon goddess.

“Stop glaring and do something!” Baela slides into the seat next to him, hissing the words at him while she keeps her eyes fixed on you as well, “I don’t like you, I will never like you, but you make her happy. Do something before our father ruins her life because of Rhaenyra.” “I thought you liked your stepmother,” Aemond chooses to ignore most of the things she said.

“It’s Rhaenyra’s schemes, please, Aemond, my sister deserves to feel appreciated. I have never seen any lord take an interest in her the way you have. You are the only thing she could talk about in the last few days. I will beg you if I have to.” Aemond turns his head toward Baela, letting her words calm down the hesitancy he has toward courting you. There are far more handsome men than him in the court, yet, he is the one who is blessed to hold you and kiss you, to gaze into your eyes and see forever in them.

He hisses when he feels a sting in his skull, not now, no. The pain can’t start now. He gulps his wine before he nods at Bela and stands up to walk to the crowd in the middle of the hall, catching your eyes for a second before he has to bow and start the dance with a lady he does not care to engage in a conversation with.

He thinks about how much he has changed in a few days; there will always be a part of him who thinks he’s not worthy of your affection, that you can do better than him, but also the thought of you in another man’s arms sets his skin ablaze. He is torn between keeping you all to himself or letting you have a wonderful future with another guy who can stand by your side and make you proud, who is not maimed and scarred like him.

Luckily, everyone needs to change their partner and he reaches with his hand to grab yours and pull you to his side, grinning when he hears your delighted shriek. “My Prince Aemond,” you say, squeezing his hand while the two of you twirl around the room.

He doesn’t wish to say, but the tempo is too high for me, and it worries him that somehow he might make a fool of himself or you if he trips over someone’s shoe on his blindside.

“Lady Targaryen, you look like a Valyrian Goddess, my beloved.”

“Why thank you, my good prince. I have to say that this color truly brings out your beautiful eye,” you reply coyly, tipping your chin up while you bite your lip.

“You are playing with fire, darling.” he leans down to whisper in your ear, pressing a feather-like kiss on your earlobe without anyone noticing.

“I’m a Targaryen, Prince Aemond, fire is in my blood,”

“Is that so? Well, I must say—”

He doesn’t know what happens, or how it happens, but in a second he can’t see you when he twirls you around him, and suddenly, the weight of your waist isn’t in his hand anymore.

“Aemond!” you fall down by his feet, and he sees that his boots have caught the edge of your heels, making you twist your ankle in the wrong way and causing your fall.

What have I done?

I dropped her.

I did this.

What happened?

His eye has widened in fear, and he is frozen in place, hands shaking slightly as he feels the crowd around you look in your direction, staring and gaping at him before the hushed whispers start to fill the room.

“Aemond, look—”

He can’t look at you. He will never be able to live with himself for humiliating you in the way he did tonight.

Stupid, weak, useless good for nothing, Aemond. If another lord was dancing with her, he wouldn’t have dropped her. A prince but less worthy than a common whore.

With trembling lips, and a pain blooming in his eyesocket, he dashes out of the room, leaving you on the floor.

His vision is blurry, the pain is getting worse and the air is stuck in his lungs. He can’t breathe, no, he doesn’t deserve to breathe. How can he when all he wanted to do was to dance with you but ended up hurting you? How could he hurt you like this?

He skips the steps, running to his room while he groans in pain, the stinging is getting stronger, the agony in his nerves is spreading through his skull and it only gets worse when he opens the door to his chambers to find not only scented candles but the windows and the balcony door is open as well.

“You are dismissed!” he shouts at the guard before he slams the door shut, “Ah!” He tumbles down, gripping the nearest chair to keep himself on his feet at least before he falls on his knees, clawing at the eyepatch to pull it off as if it’s burning his skin.

The pain is like a dagger, stabbing him over and over again until even his knees don’t have the strength to keep him up. He falls on the floor, curling into a ball while the pain spreads through his face, and he finally breaks down, bursting into tears from agony and humiliation. If only he wasn’t in pain… if only his eye wasn’t cut out…

Aemond doesn’t hear when the door opens, nor he can see who the person is. Tears have flooded his vision, but as soon as he feels your soft hand on his arms, trying to help him sit up, he flinches, backing away from you while he gasps for air, feeling his tunic clinging to his sweaty body.

“Aemond, please let me—” “No, no, no, no…” he stands up hurriedly, walking to the balcony on unsteady legs to get some air in his lungs, only to be met by a freezing wind that makes the chronic pain in his eye even worse. He drops to his knees again, this time the sounds of his gasps and painful yelps are louder than before.

You rush to his side, kneeling in front of him to cup his cheeks, kissing his clammy forehead before you wipe his tears away gently. He lets you touch him this time, too exhausted to utter a word, to push you away even if he has to.

“It’s going to be okay, Aemond, let me help you,” You help him on his feet, making sure to have your arms wrapped tightly around him while he leans his weight on you, trusting you to take care of him, even though the voice in the back of his head is telling him to push you out of his room.

“Gently, my love, gently,” you help him lay down on the bed, pecking his cheek again, rising to get the smoke out of the room but his hands shot up and grabs your forearm tightly.

“Stay, please,” he whimpers, his beautiful eye tearing in pain.

“I will, my dearest, I just need to blow out the candles and close the windows, and I’ll be back in bed with you.” You reach and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss upon his knuckles before he lets you go.

He can’t see you clearly, but your shadow moves from side to side frantically, blowing the candles on the balcony so the smoke won’t get inside again, shutting the windows quickly so the cold wind doesn’t bother him anymore before you come to bed again.

You unlace your gown, taking it off so you can tend to him more easily, pulling at the few pins inside your head to let the strands fall freely around your shoulders. You climb onto the bed, a jar of his salve and ointment in hand with clean rags in your other as you sit comfortably next to him, helping him take off his tunic and pants.

Aemond lies on the pillow on your lap, sniffing as you look at his face; bare and raw of emotions with his sapphire glinting in the low lights of the room.

“My love, you need to help me pull the gem out,” you whisper, almost sound scared of him, or scared of what you might see.

“No, it is an unbecoming sight—”

“Nothing about you is unbecoming. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on, and for you and your suffering, I begged my grandma to allow me to study about your condition with the Maesters,” you lean to kiss the bridge of his nose, “the skin around your eyesocket is swollen, if we do not pull it out now, it shall make it more unbearable for you.”

He hesitates for a moment. While he would love to ask you about why you studied something so gruesome because of him, he can’t help but feel so wanted. The pain is getting worse, sure, he has to pull the gem out anyway but to hear you say how you have begged Rhaenys to let you partake in those classes, to maybe someday help him with his pain… that truly makes him feel fuzzy all over.

“Alright…” he whispers, gritting his teeth in pain as he reaches out with his fingers to grab the side of the gem, pulling it out slowly while he groans and the pain nearly knocks him out. “Shouldn’t we use something more—” “Take it out, take it out—I don’t care how!”

You nod, tears falling from your eyes as you watch him writhe in pain more as the two of you pull his sapphire out, leaving a heavily swollen and empty eyesocket on display. His hand falls limp on the bed while you drop the gem into a clean bowl before pouring some of the ointment on a rag, gently holding his face in one hand while the other daps slowly over the scar and his ripped eyelids, pressing a few kisses here and there to soothe his whimpering.

He clings to your arms and waist tightly, letting his tears fall freely while you soothe his pain away, falling into slumber easily beneath your gentle touch.

•••••••••••

He is running.

Where is he? Why is he running?

He looks around him, finding himself in the labyrinth he always sees in his dreams.

The hedges are covered in ivy, the walls have gotten taller and the paths are thinner.

What’s this smell?

He steps closer to the source of it, taking different routes until the smell gets worse and stronger. He knows where the center of the maze is, he has been here countless times.

He turns around, finding the space of the labyrinth of his dream, but he doesn’t expect to see you there, not while standing with your nightshift covered in maroon, hands dripping with thick droplets of blood as you look at him horrifyingly.

“Darling, are you alright?”

“Don’t- don’t come closer,” you say, taking a step away from him.

“I don’t understand, why—” “You did this to me!” screaming at him, your hands cover your heart, and he finally sees how your chest has been ripped open and blood gushes out of the wound.

“I was not here—”

“You did this to me! You hurt me, Aemond!”

“Aemond!”

“Aemond!”...

He jolts up, gasping for air, hands clutching the bedsheets as he experiences another nightmare. He looks at you, finding you awake and alarmed while you rub his back, eyes filled with worry and pain for him.

“You should leave,” his voice is barely above whispering, his nails digging into the palms of his hand while he blinks his tears away.

“Aemond—” “I will only hurt you, why don’t you understand?!” he asks, raising his voice a little.

He is torn between needing you to wishing you were gone; he can’t cope if he ever hurts you again.

“You have not hurt me, you won’t hurt me.” “I killed you in my dream! You fell in front of everyone and twisted your ankle because of me, I humiliated you! How can you say I won’t fucking hurt you? I have already done it.” He explains, but instead of pushing you away, he welcomes you when you pull him down into your embrace, holding his head tightly in your neck as he sobs uncontrollably.

“It’s not your fault, I should have been more careful. I won’t let you ruin yourself for something that was a mistake on my behalf.” you kiss the side of his face, rocking him from side to side while he calms down eventually.

“Don’t push me away, I love you, Aemond. Let me be here and help you carry this heavy pain with you.”

He doesn’t reply, but his arms tighten around you.

He looks at how you lay back on the pillows, gently pulling him in your arms until he is lying in your chest while you play with his hair.

“Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

•••••••••••

He opens his eye slowly when he feels someone caressing his hair, pressing butterfly kisses all over his face. Smiling a little, he finds you admiring him in his sleep, taking notes of every line and deep of his skin.

“It’s very rude to stare,” he says, his voice thick and raspy from all the crying he did last night.

“Not when he is my lover,” you whisper back, nuzzling your nose against his, “you look like a fairy when you sleep.”

“No one has ever told me that. How do you come up with such unique ways to describe me?” He leans over, pressing a kiss on your shoulder while he waits for you to answer.

“You are a wonderful muse for poetry, I shall start writing about your hair and eye!”

He keeps his lips sealed to your skin, sucking and nibbling until he is satisfied with the marks he has left. His pupil is blown out with a newfound lust; how can he not desire you when you are lying in his arms with your wild white hair plastered over his pillows?

“You are staring,” he chuckles at how breathless you sound. He hasn’t even begun to do anything and he already has you melting under his touch.

“Can you blame me? I have the most exquisite lady of the realm in my bed.”

“What happened to the insecure boy I held last night?” You ask while leaning up towards him, pushing him down on his back so you can straddle his narrow hips.

“It’s still here with us in this room, but he has begun to heal. You have helped him when he had no one,” his palms rest on your thighs.

“I need you,” it comes more as a plea, but Aemond obliges and flips the two of you over, hiding his face in your neck to prep it with kisses while he whispers that he needs you too.

“I love you, darling,” he whispers, craning his neck to catch your lips in a kiss, moving them together with a rhythm that encourages him to take the next step.

His hand inches downward, pushing past the fabric of your underwear to find you already wet for him.

“I-I have already lost my maidenhand…”

“I don’t care, I have you now,”

He silences your whine with another deep kiss, his fingers circling your clit until you are squirming and bucking your hips into his palm, your arms pulling him in by the shoulders.

He breaks the kiss, watching you take a deep breath when he pushes one digit inside while he tugs at the front of your shift, pulling it down until your tits are on display. He covers your chest with marks and bruises the same time another finger enters you, making you gasp loudly in pleasure.

He stretches you on his fingers, thrusting them in and out slowly at first, but soon he is speeding up, his patience running thin as he scissors you open not roughly to make it hurt, but to make sure you are ready to take him.

“A-Aemond, please, need you closer,”

He nods because he too can feel the need to become one with you, to take you as his, or more so you take him as yours.

His breeches are thrown on the floor, followed by his undershirt immediately as he takes home between your spread legs, one hand holding him up while the other guides his throbbing cock to your entrance. You both gasp in union when his tip nudges past your muscles, pushing in slowly and gently until he is sheathed inside you completely.

You throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist while your nails dig into his naked chest as he lets you get adjusted to his size.

“Can I move?” He asks, leaning down over you as he cages you beneath him, both of his forearms holding himself up against the pillow under your head.

You nod, looking at him with pleading eyes, and he finally caves in and moves slowly; pulling his hips back a little before driving in.

The next minutes pass by him gently making love to you, circling his hips and kissing you, bringing you closer and closer to your highest point. You know you both are close when his groans and moans grow louder, and your voice matches his tone as he quickenes his pace, the loud sounds of skin slapping against each other echoing in the chambers of the prince.

You both finish together; you with a gasp of his name, and him with a loud groan of yours as he fills you and you gush around him. He trembles above you, whether it is for the climax he experiences or the overwhelming love he holds for you.

He watches your face twist in pleasure — the pleasure he is giving you — and he memorizes every sound, counting each lash that he can while he himself rides his high with you.

He drops face down on the bed next to you, both of you trying to catch your breath as you look at each other with a satisfied expression on your faces.

“They would ask about our whereabouts if we are late for breakfast.” You say, giggling when he groans in absolute disgust — he is not ready to leave this room and face the world again when he knows he can stay and take you again, thrive in your attention and love for all day.

“Must you ruin this moment for us? Now I can only think about how to face your father after what we did.”

“You should look him in the eye and ask for my hand,” you sit up, throwing the cover off of you before getting off the bed “and you shall do it with the braids I do for you,”

“You are impossible,” he says, but he knows that behind his words, there is no hidden intent, nothing but adoration and playfulness.

“Come, sit!” You pull him off the bed as well, leading him to his vanity before pushing him down on the chair, both of you stark naked as you brush his hair slowly.

He looks at himself in the mirror, and for the first time in years, his reflection doesn’t disgust him, it doesn’t scare him or make him self-conscious. He feels… beautiful, he feels worthy again of having this life, having you as his.

“Do you wish to know what I see when I look at you?” You ask him, letting his soft hair fall around his shoulders before you lean down, wrapping your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He nods, hands coming to cover yours where they caress the skin above his heart.

“I see a broken man who needed to be saved. I see a boy, fierce and strong as he claims the largest dragon alive. I see my friend who danced with me in different gatherings, my beloved friend who built sandcastles with me and helped me with my Valyrian studies. I see my Aemond, finally freed from the labyrinth of his mind.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fluff #prince aemond #aemond x reader #rue:smut #rue:angst #rue:fluff

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queencvbra · 1 year

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As much as I shit on season 2, the airplane scene is SO important to me because the way I see her, Tory truly is hopeful and idealistic and sensitive, she's just been burned too much by the world around her that she's learned to keep all of that to herself.

#⚡ about. ── ❝ 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨. ❞#her watching the planes so often that she knows the *exact* times they show up down to the minute #laying there daydreaming about who is on board and where they are going and why #thinking maybe it could be her someday (before she ruined her chances at becoming a pilot)#excuse me while I cry

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the-thing-inside-your-closet · 2 months

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Danny and Ellie are forced to flee Amity Park. And find themselves in Coast City.

I started writing this with the intention of only writing a short prompt, but then I just kept going until I felt like I’d written enough.

Danny gets caught up in yet another fight with Skulker, only this time it wasn’t because Skulker had come for Danny. No. He’d come for Ellie. And she was already weak from fleeing the GIW who had shot at her the moment she arrived in Amity Park.

Whether Skulker is after Ellie for Vlad, or because he wants her pelt can be up to you.

Either way, he manages to beat Skulker and captures him in the thermos. Just as he lets out a long sigh of relief he hears the sound of an ecto-gun being fired and then his side is burning and he’s falling. He’s falling too fast and it hurts and he can’t stop-

Danny guys the ground hard. His head is spinning, his skin feels like it’s burning, and he can hear the stomping of feet as someone runs towards him.

He needs to get up. He needs to get away. Find Ellie and make sure she’s safe. He’s needs to MOVE- but he can’t. Black spots for his vision as he manages to stand up and his eyes meet the end of his mother’s gun.

Before anyone can speak, he’s falling again, handing face first in the dirt. And the familiar feeling of de-transforming washes over him.

The last thing he hears before loosing consciousness is the grief stricken sound of his parent’s voice as three voices shout in unison.

“OH MY GOD DANNY!”

“DANNY ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“NO, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

When Danny wakes up again, he’s in his room, the curtains are drawn but he can see the sliver of sunlight pouring in through the gap underneath. He notes that his body aches, but not as much as usual after a fight like that. And there’s a warmth enveloping his hand. It’s soothing, and he almost considers going back to sleep when he notices that there’s a ghost in the room. And all too fast he’s sitting up and staring into the exhausted, red, puffy eyes of his mother looking back at him from where she’s sitting holding his hand in hers.

Just behind her he sees Ellie floating just above the ground talking quietly with his dad.

“Danny,” his mother’s voice draws his attention along with Jack and Ellie’s. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you in any pain?”

He didn’t notice when she’d helped him to lay back down again. “Do you need anything? Ellie here was just telling us about how regular pain medication doesn’t work as well for the two of you. But I’m sure we could find something for you that might-”

“Mom,” Danny rasps. Man his throat was dry.

As if reading him mind Ellie appears by his mother’s side holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. Maddie helps Danny to sit up a little more so he can drink.

“Mom,” he tries again, sounding better this time, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s not that bad!” He starts to lie as the panic sets in. He de-transformed in front of them. He knows he did. And the fear shows on his face, it must, because before he can even begin trying to think up an excuse his mother is crying.

“Oh Danny, it’s okay. We know. And we’re not angry at you. We love you. So much.”

And Danny’s heart swells at hearing it. “You don’t hate me for being Phantom?” He asks quietly.

“No! We could never hate you Dann-o!” His dad’s cheery tone doesn’t disguise the sadness and guilt etched into his face. “We’re just…so sorry that we never noticed before. And that we…” he can’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. Danny already knows what he’s apologise for.

“I’m okay. I promise. I heal fast!” Danny tied to reassure them.

It seems to help a little, though his parents still have a grim look in their eyes. As they make connections in just how Danny would know that about himself.

And Ellie, with perfect timing to cut the tension, announces happily, “Danny! Good news! Your parents said I could stay with you!”

Ellie had told his parents while Danny was unconscious about being his clone. She saw how they fretted over Danny, cleaning and dressing his injuries with the love and care she only imagined from a parent that truly loves you. And they had accepted her almost right away. Jack even crying as he proudly declared himself a father of three.

Jack soon excused himself, saying he’ll go see if Jazz needs any help with cooking lunch. Danny and his mother share a look, and with a final kiss to his head says she’ll go make sure nothing gets brought back to life. And she asks Ellie to please make sure Danny stays in bed and rests.

Danny and Ellie are left alone in his room, and it gives Danny the chance to really revel in everything. His parents accept him. They love him, both sides of him. And they accepted Ellie too! And said she can stay! She doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

Now, a lot can happen in the span of a few seconds, let alone minutes. In the time it took for Maddie to reach the kitchen, their front door was kicked down and a group of GIW agents had stormed in demanding they hand over the ectoplasmic scum they were harbouring.

Jack and Maddie drew their weapons and planted themselves directly in front of the GIW agents. The agents state that a ghost shield was put up around the house to prevent any ghosts from escaping, and by law any ghosts within the premises were ti be handed over for destruction immediately. Jazz runs upstairs to Danny’s room to warn them that the GIW were inside the house and that they needed to run. They need to get to the portal NOW.

With all the authority of an older sister Jazz tells Ellie to grab the go bag Danny had insisted on having prepared, and picks Danny up despite his protests that he could walk. Or well, fly. Ellie turns them all invisible and intangible and takes them down to the lab.

They can hear the sound of shouting, and something breaking and a gun being fired all coming from upstairs as Jazz opens the portal for Danny and Ellie.

Another shot rings out. And then another, and more shouting.

“Quickly you two need to go!”

Another shot.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Danny, now Phantom, asks suddenly as he and Ellie are preparing to enter the Ghost Zone.

Two more shots.

“Someone needs to be here to deactivate the portal in case the guys in white make it down here. I’ll be fine. Mom and dad will be okay, they’re not here for us so you two need to go. Now!” There’s banging on the lab’s door and Jazz shoves both Danny and Ellie into the portal. The last thing Danny hears before the portal closes behind them is another shot being fired.

Danny is scared and angry as he and Ellie are forced to fly through the zone with no currently known way to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay. He needs to protect them.

But right now Danny is still hurt, and he needs to get himself and Ellie somewhere safe. They begin to slowly make their way through the zone, looking for somewhere to rest and avoiding any ghosts that might want to pick a fight.

Ellie isn’t sure how long she and Danny have been moving for. It feels like it could have been days, or hours, or even minutes. But Danny can’t fly as quickly right now. He’s trying to keep a brave face for Ellie’s sake but she can see the exhaustion beginning to take hold of him.

So Ellie makes the executive decision to touch down somewhere to rest. She tells Danny she’s tired. Danny knows she isn’t and it’s only because she’s worried and wants him to rest. So he goes along with it and they make their way to the next floating island they come across and thank the ancients it’s empty. The two halfas touch down and Danny slumps over as he sits against a nearby rock. Ellie pulls out some energy bars that were tucked away in the go bag and hands one over to Danny.

They do this a few times, stopping to rest, as they gradually make their way to the Far Frozen. Ellie had insisted on going there, Frostbite would know what to do, and he would be able to help Danny with his injuries that had started bleeding again in all the commotion of escaping, and then flying and hiding from ghosts known to attack Danny regularly.

But unfortunately luck is not on their side yet again as a natural portal rips open directly in front of them, and closes behind them after spitting them out in a city they didn’t recognise.

That’s how Danny and Ellie find themselves in Coast City, hiding out in an old warehouse by the docs while Danny heals and they figure out how they’re going to get back home.

That is, until now.

Danny stares up at his little sister and sighs with the resigned tone of an exasperated older sibling.

“Ellie,” he takes a breath, “what did you do?”

“I’m my defence,” Ellie glares up at Green Lantern, who has Ellie scruffed by the back of her hoodie, before looking back at Danny, “I simply do not vibe with the law.”

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evie-sturns · 3 months

Text

secret - Chris Sturniolo

summary: chris wants to keep your relationship a secret from the fans, which means he is never around as much as he should be. this sparks an argument, where chris suggests that you 'should just leave.'

contains: angst, cocky!chris, crying, fluff, yelling, comforting.

----------------------≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫----------------———

i lay in chris and i's bed, wrapped up comfortably in the thick sheets.

my head snaps up to look at chris as he swings open the door, he walks inside the room wearing a white tanktop and some black sweatpants.

"just gonna go film." he says vaguely before walking out of the room,

"chris- can i come!?" i call out,

"y/n, no. we talked about this" chris sighs, i get up out of bed and walk towards him,

"please- i don't have to be in it, i just haven't seen you for like a week." i say softly, chris shakes his head, practically discarding me.

"i see you every week, ill be gone for about two hours okay?" chris says blankly,

i feel my face grow hot with embarrassment, i feel like im practically begging for chris to want me, even though im his girlfriend. anger courses through my body, pushing me to my breaking point.

"why- why do you not care about me- or anything i have to say!" i raise my voice, pointing my fingers at chris's chest as i glare my eyes.

"you don't scare me y/n." chris chuckles, bringing my finger down from his chest.

"proves my fucking point! right there--!" i yell, chris just stares at me with a smug smile on his face.

"we agreed to keep us a secret-" chris starts, but i cut him off

"we both agreed to keep us a secret from your fans, not everyone else you've ever known! yes- i get it your fans will be mad but you're- your'e-" my voice breaks as i turn away from him

"don't be acting all pissy because i have a job and you don't." he raises his voice at me,

"excuse you?" i almost laugh,

"yeah, get a grip y/n, honestly." chris sighs, grabbing his phone and going to walk out.

"don't fucking leave-" i shout, "you're a horrible person chris-" i say, holding back floods of tears.

"maybe you're just being a sensitive little bitch?" chris says, the regret is prominent on his face as soon as those words leave his mouth.

"you're being- so mean-" my voice breaks, tears rolling down my flushed face.

"then leave- i'm actually done with you're bullshit, please leave." chris raises his voice.

i look up at him, "actually-?" i say through loud sobs,

he hesitates for a second before speaking, "i- i dont know- if you can handle me being popular then leave-"

"your ego is incredible you asshole-" i squeeze out, walking past him.

he grabs my chin and stops me in my tracks, his large hand clasped tight around my small chin. "excuse me?" he looks down at me,

"i'm going to find nick." i sigh loudly,

"no you're not." chris states,

"i thought we were done?" i say with a loud cry, i wipe my tears away quickly.

suddenly matt peeks his head through the door, "everything okay in here?" matt asks with concern clear on his face

“fuck off matt, genuinely.” chris raises his voice,

“dude, you’re making her cry-“ matt points out, his eyes locking with mine.

“and it’s none of your business, fuck off!” chris yells shakily at matt,

matt walks into the room angrily, pushing chris’s shoulder. chris let’s go of my chin, discarding me.

“you want my girl now?” chris almost laughs as he approaches matt,

“she’s literally like my little sister and i’ve known her my whole life- so god forbid i ask if she’s okay after i hear you scream at her through the walls!” matt grows angry,

“y/n can’t understand that the fans can’t know about me and her, that’s literally it- she’s just being ignorant, like always.” chris speaks as though i’m not here,

“sort your shit out chris.” matt mutters, pushing chris backwards before walking out of the room.

“i- i think i’m gonna go to matt’s room.” i whisper, barely audible.

“yeah- go fuck him while you’re at it.” chris says with a petty tone,

i let out a frustrated sigh before pushing his shoulder back with an angry sob.

“pathetic.” chris scoffs, “do it harder-“ he taunts,

i storm out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me with a loud bang.

i swing open the door to matt’s room, he’s sat at the edge of his bed on his phone.

“matt-“ i sniffle, matt looks up at me before standing up,

“hey- hey you okay?” matt asks frantically, his voice soft.

“i think chris just broke up with me-“ my voice breaks, matt wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a hug.

“i’m sure he didn’t, he’s just upset right now, you think?” matt whispers into my hair,

i nod, “you can stay in my room tonight, i’ll get the spare mattress.” he suggests, i nod as tears continue to pour down my face.

“i hate him- ihatehimihatehimihatehim.” i sob, matt rubs my back,

“no you don’t, arguments are normal, it happens.” matt sighs.

“i do- hes so mean to me!” i bury my face into my hands.

“shh- sh it’s okay.” matt says, “are you in your pyjamas?” matt asks,

i nod, “okay- then let’s get out the mattress and you can get to sleep.” matt states.

he lets me go before tugging out the matress from under his bed, he throws a couple of blankets and pillows on it before handing me his pug stuffed animal,

“you want this for tonight?” matt asks with a small laugh, i grab the small pug stuffed animal before flopping down on the mattress on the floor.

matt’s always been like a big brother for me, he’s always cared about me so much.

matt bends down and covers me in the blankets, tucking me in. “try have a good sleep okay?” matt whispers, i nod with a small ‘thank you’.

————-

4:23am

i stir awake slowly, i sit up off the matress and look over at matt who’s fast asleep on the bed beside me.

i stand up before stumbling over to the door swiftly, the need to go to the bathroom is overwhelming.

i slowly creak open matt’s door and step out into the corridor.

my footsteps slap against the cold wood as i yawn loudly

i swing open the door to the bathroom, and i’m met with him.

chris.

he’s sitting on the edge of the bathtub, scrolling on his phone. i turn on the warm light which illuminates the small bathroom.

“oh-“ i whisper, spinning back around and reaching for the door handle.

“no- no please come back-“ chris’s voice wobbles.

he’s wearing spider-man pyjama shorts, the same ones that i teased him for a couple weeks ago.

he’s got a thin white shirt on and his brunette hair is messed up completely, his eyes are bloodshot and swollen along with his puffy lips and pink cheeks.

he stands up, looking down at me. i can see the gears in his brain physically spinning as he tries to think of what to say.

“i-i’m sorry i’m still here- i was gonna pack up in the morning.” i break the silence with a couple deep breaths.

chris’s face drops, he buries his face into his hands with a shake of his head.

“i- i didn’t mean that- i was just so caught up in the heat of the moment and i really- really- don’t want to loose you.” chris starts, his eyes watering

“and i’m so sorry for taking you for granted. i love you more than anything, i love you more than anything ever.” chris’s voice breaks loudly, he goes silent as his body jolts up and down.

“are you crying?” i ask softly, he nods.

i don’t say anything, just wrapping my arms around him, he hugs me back weakly.

he buries his head into my shoulder, his soft hair covers half my face.

“and- i’m sorry for crying i just- don’t want you to think i’m only crying for sympathy i just feel really upset.” chris clarifies, i laugh softly,

“i know sweetheart,” i sigh,

“and— and- you don’t have to forgive me- ever— i said proper mean stuff to you.” chris’s voice trembles,

“i forgive you, i just want my old chris back, yeah?” i rub his back,

“you will get that- forever-“ chris sniffs.

we stand in the cold of the bathroom, his arms holding me tightly now, as though he’s afraid to let me go.

i stroke his hair lightly with my manicured nails,

“chris- i don’t mean to ruin this moment but i really really need to pee- that’s why i came in here—“

@sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s@ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonly @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos

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#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo angst

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zorosdimples · 4 months

Text

꒰ ITADORI YUUJI X READER ꒱

minors do not interact—i will block you! cw: gn!reader, rimming (yuuji receiving), male masturbation. note: i have no excuse for this…

“F-fuck,” Yuuji gasps, back bowing off of your shared bed. He strokes himself feverishly, the sticky clicks of his arousal and the loud slurps that tumble from your mouth echoing in the room. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna—”

You pause your ministrations, a thread of iridescent spit connecting your tongue to your boyfriend’s wet, fluttering hole. When you pull away, the string snaps. You shift to lay your head against his muscular thigh, mischievously rubbing the strip of flesh that rests beneath his sack; he shivers.

“You say that like you don’t want to finish.” A mock-pout graces your slick lips while your hand dances up to his balls, fondling the hot, velvety skin.

“Shit.”

He sucks his teeth. His fist slows as it reaches the base of his thick cock, foreskin pulled back, a fresh bead of pre pearling at his flushed tip. You sit up and lean forward to lap at it, dipping your tongue into his slit. A clammy palm catches your cheek as you taste his desire—rich and tangy; he nibbles his lip and smooths a calloused thumb up your cheekbone.

“Keep going—please.”

You reposition yourself between Yuuji’s strong legs. Slowly, you spread him apart—breath kissing his puckered rim—watching it twitch in anticipation. “Ask me again,” you murmur. His frustrated groan earns him an airy chuckle.

You’re a fucking tease, after all.

The man above you could easily overpower you; he could drag you by the hair and slot your panting mouth right where he wants it, using you to get off.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he yields to you. You may not give him what he wants, but you always give him what he needs.

“Baby please,” he whines, voice ragged with desperation. He looks down at you with heavy lids, his gaze molten amber—liquid gold. Dew shimmers at his temples and mats his blush hairline, and a sliver of pink darts out to dampen his lips. “Needa come so, so bad.”

Yuuji barely gets the words out before you finally swirl your tongue around his hole then slip the muscle inside, allowing him to roll his hips and gently buck against your mouth. Each time his ass makes contact with your face, you both moan, and it’s only a matter of moments before he finishes across his spasming abdomen with a cry.

Boneless, your lover nudges you away with his knees, then pulls you on top of himself, chest damp with sweat and heaving against your own.

“Yuu!” you shriek as his tacky spend oozes between your bodies and smears across your belly. He playfully squeezes your hips, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

“All you should worry about is how ’m gonna return the favor,” he mumbles into your skin. Before you can reply, he flips you over onto your back—showing you that a little mess is the least of your concerns.

#i’m sorry i promised to finish this 4 days in a row and then didn’t #i hope you can forgive me :’-))#yuuji <3 #༄ kae writes #yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #jjk x reader

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i2sunric · 4 months

Text

I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE part 2 (s.jy)

pairing: rich boy!jake x reader (f)

summary: after jake’s betrayal, you tried try pick up the pieces of your broken heart by replacing him with heeseung, even if they never truly fitted back together— not until your realised jake’s heart was in worse shape.

warnings: sexual tension, angst, hurt/comfort, making out, kissing, smut (blowjob, missionary, doggy, riding, creampie, hair pulling, chocking), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!) fighting, alcohol consumption, usage of weed, curse words, pet names (baby, ma cherie), hyung line (minus jake) are actually a conspiracy for jakeyn. Imk if more. PROOFREAD → READ PART 1

published: 13th May 2024

wc: 6.8k

taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns @seunghancore (one shot) @anittamaxwynn @jvjsssnaa @slut4hee @kgneptun @nyxtwixx @laurradoesloveu @star4rin @capri-cuntz @eneyiri @samouryed @heyniki @ineedsomezzz @nanamomgmong @aishigrey @naurrjakeu @ak-aaa-li @sjakewrld @nikiswifiee @koralira-kira @daisycottage @yunhoswrldddd @smisworld @cloud-lyy @avaleyshin @soobinbunnie5 @ikeulims @tuituibzhe @starggukies @icywinter1999 [BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED]

a/n: aight this actually turned out longer than i intended and did i really write smut while listening to windows down by big time rush? yes. having a keylock doesn’t mean you’re poor btw (i also have a keylock). please REBLOG & LIKE to share! also lmk your thoughts by commenting 🎀 tysm for loving this fic!

You stared yet again at the reflection in front of you. Tear stains had ruined your makeup, your mascara that claimed to be waterproof was now coating your cheeks until your chin.

You gripped the sink in anger, your knuckles turning white at the force.

A lot of curse words flashed in your mind, but none were strong enough to represent your current state.

How could you be so oblivious? You thought Jake and you had something, something that went beyond just two people who met at a frat party.

You felt it, inside your heart, the way it tickled every time you heard his sweet chuckle leave his lips, seeming like the only light in the darkness of life.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather all the shattered pieces of your heart, laying open there. If that was how it hurt, you sure as hell weren’t going to give anyone else the key to access to it.

“What’s a pretty girl crying in the bathroom for?” A voice snapped you out of your trance. You raised your face and met a pair of known, dark eyes.

“Heeseung.” You breathed out, not even bothering to turn around. That moment almost felt like a deja vù, probably because that same bathroom was where your lips first met Jake’s.

Trying to block out all the memories of that Australian man, you turned around and leaned back on the countertop.

“Glad you still remember my name.” He said, licking his bottom lip, “Found out your prince charming wasn’t as innocent as you thought?”

You frowned at his words “How’d you know?” And Heeseung just chuckled bitterly in response “I invited you to my party in hope of having you for myself.”

His eyes roamed all over your body “Just to find out you were at it with my best friend.” You rolled your eyes. “We just made out, nothing more.”

If you thought Jake was bold, Heeseung was shameless. He was looking at you like you were a gazelle in the lion’s den, eyes scanning your body, probably imagining you without clothes.

“Well, he’s busy now.” You turned around and looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to clean the mascara stains on your face.

“With Karina?” Heeseung nodded at himself, “She was there before you.”

You turned around again, a deeply offended expression painting your features “Excuse me?”

Heeseung smirked, cleaning your cheeks with his own thumbs “You really thought Sim Jake would fall in love with a mediocre girl?” He cooed “Aw, poor you. Jake had always been greedy, he would never settle for someone who isn’t from his own neighbourhood.”

“And why are you telling me this?” You asked warily, not fully believing the words leaving his mouth. You wanted to stay with your impression of the kind and playful Jake. Not the player, not the heartbreaker.

“Because he isn’t worth your tears, pretty.” Heeseung’s voice was husky and hoarse, you couldn’t almost understand his words “But I am, when I’ll fuck you so hard.”

You pushed his chest away, “Disgusting.” But Heeseung only laughed in response, “I was kidding.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped aside of him “I’m going home.” You were almost out of the door when his big hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush on his chest.

“Or, I have a better idea.” You raised a brow. “You don’t look like someone who has nice ideas.”

“Just trust me.” He wiggled his brows “I know you’re known for seducing and then leaving.”

You scowled “If that’s my reputation on your side of the town.” His fingers trailed your arm until they reached your shoulder, caressing the bare skin “In my opinion, that’s hot.”

“I don’t remember asking.” You sighed, having heard his flattering already when he was courting you, a couple of weeks before.

“I’m saying, we go downstairs.” Heeseung bit his bottom lip, playing with the strap of your dress. “And we get a taste of each other, just let your mind drift off.” He said, lowering down to whisper in your ear.

You honestly weren’t in the mood to make out with someone, let alone be in a room full of teenagers drunk off their tits— But what could you do better to fix your broken heart?

“I hope you improved your kissing skills.”

𓆩♡𓆪

If stares could kill, then the ones Jake was giving you as you basically straddled Heeseung in the middle of his living room got you dead a few minutes before.

Your lips were attached, rarely pulling away, just enough to catch your breath while his hands were wrapped around your waist, holding you in place on his laps.

Jake was still with that pretty woman whose name you learnt was Karina. And in fact, she was deadly gorgeous, you almost didn’t blame Jake for leaving you for her. But you were Y/N, nobody should’ve dared to play with your heart that same cruel way Jake did.

“You don’t mind making out with me in front of him?” You asked on Heeseung’s lips, licking his bottom one “Nah,” He cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer “You weren’t a thing anyways, were you?”

Your heart stopped at his words, because in fact, you and Jake weren’t anything. You had never been, it was foolish of you to even hope for it.

“No, we weren’t.” You replied in a whisper, “Perfect.” Heeseung resumed kissing you, more roughly this time.

Jake needed something stronger than the mild cup of beer in his hand to forget your presence in the room. Smashing his head on the wall seemed like a good option since not only did you attend the party but were also making out with his best friend.

He called it on himself, he knew nothing good would come with playing with you, but he couldn’t erase all that he had done.

Trying to cancel the image of Heeseung with his hands all over you, he turned to the side to give his attention to the raven haired girl beside him “So, when’s your brother coming home from Paris again?”

Karina smiled at the mention “Sunghoon is coming back in two days!” She informed him, “He also wanted to invite you guys over.”

Jake beamed back at his other best friend’s older sister and nodded “That sounds good, I haven’t seen him in one month or so.”

Karina rolled her eyes “Yeah, I came back as soon as work finished but he claimed he wanted to ‘sightsee’ the city before returning here.”

He smiled “Living his best life, I see.” He patted her shoulder, the touch on her exposed skin only made him remember how your body felt when it was wrapped around his, kissing you all over.

He hoped he could have done more, to be with you longer so that he would have experienced having you laid down beneath him, in your whole essence and beauty. He wished he had a chance to do that— But the universe wasn’t on his side.

You hadn’t realised how much fun those rich kids could have. You thought they talked about horses and lake cottages in their free time but they actually were so much more than that!

Or maybe it was whatever Heeseung made you smoke that was altering your thoughts.

You were currently sitting on his laps, your back pressed against his chest as you took a drag out of the joint between your fingers.

You giggled at something one of Heeseung’s friends said, you weren't even sure why you were laughing but it sounded fun.

Heeseung caressed your back, trailing circles on your shoulder as he took a drag from his own joint “Having fun, Y/N?” He asked and you nodded “Much.”

“Mhmh, I bet you are.” He smirked, “First time smoking weed?”

You nodded again “Jake said I looked like I did it daily,” You chuckled “But I never tried.”

“Did he?” He whispered, getting close to your neck, leaving kitten licks “You talk a lot about him.”

“No.” You frowned “I don’t.” Heeseung chuckled and started sucking on your sensitive skin, making you let out a moan.

His big hand went to cover your mouth as he worked on your neck, sucking and biting enough to leave a hickey “You talked about him the whole night, haven't you even realised?”

You widened your eyes at his statement. No, you hadn’t realised, but when his name rolled out of your tongue it just sounded so right.

You just shook your head, unable to reply verbally since his hand was on your lips.

You closed your eyes, trying to block out any thought at the feeling of Heeseung’s lips on your neck and the weed clouding your mind.

“Are you mad?” A strict voice suddenly snapped you out of your state of trance as you felt yourself being ripped away from Heeseung’s grasp.

You opened your eyes just to find a very rather and deeply angry Jake standing in front of you, if he was in a cartoon you’d see his veins pulsing on his forehead.

“He’s Jake!” You exclaimed happily to Heeseung, the effect of the amount of alcohol you drank and the intoxication from weed made you act hyper “I know.” Heeseung replied calmly.

Jake pulled you behind his back “What were you thinking? Making her smoke this shit?”

You frowned “It’s good—“ But Heeseung cut you “Relax man, we were just having fun.”

“This is not having fun.” He took the joint from your hand and threw it to Heeseung “Don’t get her into your addictions.”

Heeseung raised a brow, his expression remaining stoic “She was willing.” Jake snapped back “She’s drunk!”

He took a deep breath and pointed a threatening finger toward Heeseung “Do not pull this ever again.” He stated before taking your hand in his and dragging you out of the party.

Meanwhile, Heeseung smirked as he saw the two of you walk away; Maybe that was when his best friend would finally wake up and realise all the things he was losing.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Hey!” You exclaimed, trying to pull away from his iron grip “Yunjin is still inside.” Jake let out a small groan “I’ll drive her home later.”

You pulled hard on his hand, making him stop right in front of his crimson car “Let me go.”

Jake’s eyes were full of rage, you were almost scared at their intensity “Are you angry?”

“Yes.” He stated, voice serious “At me?” You asked, your voice was so soft and quiet it made his heart jump out of his ribcage “No, not at you.”

Your eyes were red and bloodshot, your breath heavy “How many did you smoke?” He asked, trying to contain his tone.

You gulped down, lowering your gaze “Two.” Jake nodded and opened the door of his car, letting you in.

“I’m going to kill Heeseung somedays.” He mumbled, walking to the other side and entering the driver seat.

He started the engine and drove in silence, the late hours of the night not as lively as they usually were.

When you reached a stoplight, Jake opened a small bottle of water he had in his car and handed it to you “Drink, I want it all finished before we reach your house.”

You raised a brow, your mind was already puzzled and his actions only added to your confusion “Why?”

“Just listen to me.” He dismissed your question and started driving again while you drank small sips from the bottle.

You soon reached your house, this time Jake parked his car unauthorisedly in front of it, exiting the car to open the door for you.

You looked up at him, your vulnerable state making him want to protect you even more. Damn Heeseung.

“I couldn’t finish it all…” You murmured, showing him only the half-empty bottle of water.

His eyes softened. “That’s ok, at least you drank some.” You smiled up at him and stumbled a little as you tried to reach your house door.

Jake helped you, holding you up with his arms under your armpits “Shoot, Y/N. Why did you drink so much?” He let out a huff, as he was basically supporting all your weight.

You leaned on the wall and handed Jake your purse, not really in the state to open the door.

“What’s the code?” He asked and looked at your door, just to realise there was no code to access inside it, your door still needed a key to be opened.

His stomach dropped, another mental check of how different your lives were “Inside the purse.” You murmured.

Jake nodded and opened your purse, taking out the keys and opening the door, holding it open.

“You’re mad at me?” You asked again, your eyes half-lidded and you could barely hold yourself up— yet you were ever so pretty.

The moonlight shone on you, lighting up your skin, your hair falling down your face, messy but gorgeous. So dishevelled but so pretty.

“No, Y/N. I’m not mad at you.” He repeated, his tone sincere “Then… Then why you ignored me?” You asked, the pout on your lips only making him want to bite on them.

He gave you the purse back and pushed you a little so that you walked in “Go straight to bed, don’t wake your parents up. You don’t want them to see you like this.”

You nodded obediently and Jake caressed your cheek with his thumb before turning around. He stopped right in front of your door and smiled “I’m doing this for you, ma chérie.” And then closed the door.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Hey man,” Jake greeted Sunghoon as he entered his house, giving him a high five, “Good to see you again.”

“Yeah, glad to see you too.” Sunghoon nodded and closed the door behind his back.

“Am I the last one?” Jake asked, walking to the couch and sitting on it, bouncing a couple of times.

“No,” A wild Jay appeared from the kitchen where he was cooking something for dinner, already busy since late afternoon. “Heeseung texted he’d be late.”

“As always.” Sunghoon rolled his eyes and sat down beside him “I swear, he never changes.”

“Jay told me you will take over your father’s company,” Sunghoon smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes “Congratulations.”

“Yeah.” Jake laughed “Thanks.” Awkward silent filled the room, the only sound being Jay’s pots as he cooked. Sunghoon eyed him up and down, leaning back on the couch and resting his head on his hand “Hadn’t you rebelled to your parents?”

“Rumours fly.” He smiled forcefully “It was just a silly thing. I actually realised I should make them proud after eveything they did for me.”

“And what exactly did they do for you, Jake?” Sunghoon’s voice was low, his gaze piercing.

Jake just cleared his throat and changed the topic “So, how was Paris?” He asked “I know you booked a hotel near the Eiffel Tower. Bet it was awesome.”

Sunghoon tsked “Indeed. I’ll show you the picture if you want.” Jake answered positively when the doorbell rang.

“You get the door, it must be Heeseung.” Sunghoon got up from the sofa and patted his pockets “I’ll search for my phone.”

Jake got up as well and walked to the door, the doorbell rang again and he sighed “Yeah, coming.” He opened it and widened his eyes when he saw another familiar figure beside Heeseung.

He took in the sight of you, wearing comfortable clothes, looking ever so dreamy.

His gaze fixed on the hickey Heeseung made you a couple of days before, now all dark and purplish. He gulped “What is she doing here?”

“I invited her.” Heeseung shrugged, stepping aside Jake and walking inside the house.

You were left with him, staring at each other’s faces, acting as if both of your hearts weren’t pounding “How’s the after effect?”

There was no context but you knew what he meant “Good, I’m a big woman. No joint can kill me.” You replied, walking beside him when no more words were exchanged. Truth to be told the next day you woke up with a throbbing headache, regretting all of your life choices— though the biggest one was the hickey on your neck.

“I thought you didn’t want to hang out on this side of the town.” Jake spoke, his tone sounding mocking. You scowled “Maybe I changed my mind.” You walked faster toward the kitchen where everyone was gathered.

You got to know Jake’s friend group. Aside from Heeseung and him, you had only seen Jay at the last party. You later found out Sunghoon was on a business trip in Paris which was why you hadn’t seen him before, but even if you did he wasn’t the happiest about your presence, so you thought you wouldn’t have been friends.

Jay, on the other end, was sophisticated and kind, the two of them looking ever so the stereotype of rich kids.

Heeseung and Jake were rather normal, they could’ve passed as the kids from your neighbourhood if you didn't know their true identities.

“I brought some snacks.” Sunghoon announced, placing a sachet on the table. He took out all kinds of sweet things, but your eyes lit up at the sight of macaroons.

You had only seen their pictures and let your mind wander at what their taste would be like, but now they were in front of you, so you reached your hand and took one.

“You like ‘em?” Heeseung asked, taking the chocolate flavoured one and eating it “I’ve never tried them.” The whole table fell silent, all the boys stopping in their tracks.

“Never?” Jay questioned and you shook your head “That’s a bummer though, I only bought four for the four of us.” Sunghoon was about to take the vanilla flavoured macaroon out of your hand when Jake slapped it away.

“I don’t like them anyways, she can have mine.” Jay frowned at his friend’s words “You love macar—“ He was shushed by a biscuit placed in his mouth by Jake “I don’t like them.” He repeated.

You bit on the small treat and your eyes formed hearts “It’s so good!” You said, munching on it. And you didn’t know it, but Jake’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of you so happy.

You continued to spend time with them, playfully beefing with Sunghoon as if you weren’t an intruder in his house until they decided to go in the free time room to play billiard.

“But I don’t know how to play billiards.” You pouted, watching all the men gather around the pool table.

“That’s ok, you can just watch.” Sunghoon dismissed you quickly, placing himself in front of you to posionate the balls inside the triangle.

You just scoffed and sat on the kitchen counter, crossing your arms on your chest.

You watched the game develop in front of your eyes, never truly understanding its rules. They were too useless and complicated and you stopped paying attention in the middle.

After what seemed like forever, where you had the time to walk around Sunghoon’s big house three times and even have a chat with his maids — cause apparently, rich kids could even afford maidens — you entered the kitchen again just to see it was empty.

You looked around, checking if anyone was there before following Sunghoon’s previous actions, placing the balls in the triangle to align them.

You didn’t know what they found interesting in billiards, and trying to understand it wasn’t going to get you killed.

You took the cue stick and positioned yourself, copying the boys’ postures.

Something must’ve gone wrong, though, because as you pushed the cue you embarrassingly missed it.

“You are too far with your back.” The same voice that haunted your dreams spoke from behind you, making you flinch.

“Chill, it’s just me.” Jake stated, munching on some chips “Heeseung wondered if you wanted something to eat.”

You smirked, leaning on the table “Heeseung or you?” Jake rolled his eyes but didn’t deny your questioning.

He gulped down his food and stared at you “You want to play pool?”

“I already said I don’t know how to do that.” You repeated, glancing back at the untouched balls “I don’t even understand the rules.”

“Here.” Jake’s accent tickled your ears as he made you turn around with his hands on your hips “Bend just a little.” You didn’t know if his voice was really that low or if he was doing it just to tease you— Whatever was his plan, you were down for it.

“Mh? Like this?” You said with your most innocent voice, bending slightly more on the table, just enough to make your ass touch his front hips.

He let out a faint groan “Yeah.” He tried not to show the effect you had on him and trailed his fingers along your arms until he reached the cue stick in your hands. Goosebumps formed on your skin at the contact.

“Then?” You asked, eager for him to touch you. “Then you place the cue like this.” He shifted your fingers so you could grip it the right way and turned his face, you could feel his breath on your skin and the tip of his nose poking your cheek.

There was also something else poking your ass cheeks, which was why you started moving, briefly. Just to tease him.

“Take the aim.” The combination of his voice and the proximity of your bodies made your mind hazy, making it hard for you to concentrate.

You just let him guide you “And… Shoot.” You pushed the cue between your fingers and finally, all the balls moved around the green table.

One went into the hole and you jumped happily “I did it!” You exclaimed, laughing “You saw?” You asked, turning around.

Jake was staring at you with ever so deep eyes, full of emotions you didn’t quite get but felt inside of you as well “I always see you.”

𓆩♡𓆪

You weren’t sure why Heeseung invited you to yet another party, or the reason as to why you seemed to be the only girl at a boys hang out, but you weren’t going to complain.

The hotel you guys were staying in was huge, apparently it belonged to Heeseung’s parents and you could have it all for yourself the whole night.

Wearing the best dress you owned you presented yourself at the location beside the raven haired man.

You greeted his friends group and noticed there were many other people, unlike you thought, all partying and dancing together.

It was very different from the ones he usually threw at his house, this one was huge and packed, there was almost no space to go through the crowd.

“And you said I couldn’t bring Yunjin along.” You side eyed Heeseung, earning a shrug. “One girl from the other side is already enough.”

You slapped lightly on his shoulder “Rude.” Heeseung laughed and pushed your back a little. “Go have fun, I have guests to greet.”

Feeling like a mouse surrounded by cats, you made your way through the crowd, trying to ignore the thirsty stares you were receiving. Since that fateful night where you willingly let your heart out for Jake you had become more careful with your possible make outs.

As you turned your face to look at the big pool where people were swimming, you accidentally bumped someone's chest, which made you stumble backwards.

“Sorry,” You murmured, about to walk away when a hand came around your wrist. It wasn’t Jake’s, the one you were used to, it was much rougher and tighter.

You glanced up just to notice a tall guy, probably high judging from his bloodshot eyes and twitching nose. Holy Moly.

That guy lowered to match your height, his hot and smelly breath made your nose scrunch in disgust “Hey, gorgeous.”

Your whole body froze and your heart stopped beating for a few seconds “Uh… Hi.” You laughed awkwardly, trying to remove your hand from his grip.

“You bumped me by mistake?” He asked, getting dangerously close “Or did you want my attention. You didn’t have to pull that act, my attention is all yours now.” His words were so slurred you could barely understand them.

“Actually, it was a mistake.” You said and again tried to pull away from him, but the more you tried the more he got closer.

“Don’t lie.” He whispered and wrapped one arm around your waist. You were trapped, your breath hitching.

“I truly am not.” You pushed his chest away, resulting in him only tightening his grip “Come on… Let’s have fun.”

“She said it was a mistake.” A familiar voice with a thick accent, thicker than usual, commented, placing one hand on the guy’s shoulder.

The guy groaned and raised himself in all his height, turning around in slow motion — or maybe it was just your panicked vision playing tricks — toward Jake.

He stood in front of him, unfazed by how big and tall that guy was as he stared at him with a dark gaze.

“And who are you to interrupt us?” The guy asked, his voice too low for your own likings “Her guy.” Jake said as if it was the most obvious answer, raising a brow.

“So, I suggest you walk the fuck away before I throw one punch on your nose and break it.” You had never seen Jake angry, you had a few fantasies about it, but you would’ve never imagined him being so scary (and hot).

His whole aura was inky, arms crossed on his chest, showing his excessively veiny arms.

That guy was surely drunk but not enough to risk his own life. He raised his hands in a submissive manner and nodded “Alright, sorry man.” Jake tilted his head “It’s not me you have to apologise to.”

He took a moment to comprehend his words “Oh.” He then turned to you and scratched the back of his neck “I’m sorry.” He didn’t wait for your reply and just walked away.

Your eyes then met Jake’s, filled with wrath “I—“ You said but were met by his hand around your wrist, this time your body not repulsing it as that guy’s and he dragged you inside the hotel.

“Jake, let go.” You tried to fight him but he was stronger, dragging you through the corridors until he reached what would’ve been a storage room, full of pillows and sheets supplies “Let go, it hurts.”

Jake loosened his grip “You really have trouble written on your forehead.” He snapped, his breath heavy as he paced around the room “I can’t look away from you that you’re getting yourself into something bad.”

You frowned at his harsh words “That’s not true.” Jake scowled “Is it not? You either get high or almost—“ He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence.

“Why do you even care anyways?” You said back, brows knitted “You’re the one who used me.”

Jake stopped in his tracks “Used you?” He got closer to you.

“Yes,” You stepped forward as well. “You just used me, made me think you actually cared about me just to rebel against your parents.”

You gulped, your heart breaking again at the memory “Next thing I know, you’re ignoring me and smiling at a pretty girl.”

“Did you fuck her, Jake?” He was taken aback from your words, placing his hands on your shoulders. You shrugged him off, he still remained in your proximity without touching you.

“I think I lost something here, who was I smiling at?” You clicked your tongue, your hands on your waist as you got frustrated.

“That girl, last Saturday.” You explained “Dark hair, killer body, tall… Come on Jake, just admit it you wanted someone to fuck but I didn’t and so you went with someone else.”

“That’s really not what I did. I would never.” He blinked faintly “That girl, she’s Karina, Sunghoon’s sister.” He then added “I don’t like her, not that way.”

You wanted to scowl at him, but his tone was so serious you found yourself asking “..What?”

“You’re not the problem, Y/N.” Jake said, sighing “It’s me, it’s all my fault.”

You shook your head, confused. “What— Jake, I don’t understand.”

“I shouldn’t have asked you to help me.” He backed up until his back hit the wall, running a frustrated hand in his hair “I exposed you to my parents— I—“

You moved to him, taking his face in your hand “Stop mumbling.” You ordered “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

Despite the way he treated you in the past week, your touch was still gentle and you worried about him. A spark of hope lit his heart up.

Jake nodded and took a deep breath “My parents… they said that if I didn’t break up with you they’d make yours lose their job. You’d lose your house… I couldn’t do that, Y/N.”

He seemed as if he was slowly loosing his mind. You took in the sight of him, dark circles under his eyes, he looked paler wearing that white shirt. Just what on earth had he been doing?

“They’re powerful, with the amount of money they have they can easily buy your whole neighbourhood and evict you.” He gulped down “So I am preparing to take over the company, to make them happy.”

Your eyes widened at his words, “They threatened you?” You asked, removing your hands from his cheeks to stand properly.

Jake shrugged, “We weren’t together so technically I couldn’t break up with you, but I could stay away if it meant you’d be safe.” He sighed softly, “I told you I’m a bad bet since the first time we met.”

“No,” You shook your head “You aren’t bad, your parents are.”

He scoffed, “And I’m just like them.”

You fisted the collar of his shirt and brought his lips down to yours. He was shocked by your sudden action but he relaxed soon and closed his eyes, kissing you back.

“Say that again and your face will meet my fist.” You breathed out as you pulled away “You don’t get how brave you are? You were about to sacrifice your happiness to save my family… someone you met at a party.”

“You’re not just someone I met at a party.” Jake whispered “In just a couple of days you made my whole life better, you made me realise there’s so much more than what I was used to.”

He placed one hand in your hair, caressing your scalp “I never meant to hurt you, baby.”

Your heart jumped as you heard his whisper, the pet name making your head spin “Later, I want you to explain everything to me everything.” You demanded.

Jake nodded “Everything you want, queen.” Your breath quickened “But for now…” You trailed off and connected your lips again.

You kissed him, roughly and he did it back with the same intensity, having missed the taste of you, the scent of your perfume invading his nostrils, clouding his mind.

“Let me take you home,” He murmured between kisses “In your bedroom.”

You shook your head, stumbling backward and bringing him with you “Can’t wait.”

“You sure about this?” He asked as you got out of the storage room, bodies still tangled “I could be bad, worse than you think.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him down on you “Then, I wanna find out.”

Jake let out a small groan and resumed kissing you, blindly reaching a doorknob and praying nobody was inside.

He dragged you in and locked the door behind your backs.

Jake pushed you against the wall as he undid the buttons of his shirt while you unbuckled his belt, your lips never leaving each other.

He discarded his shirt and helped you unzip his jeans, throwing all of them somewhere on the floor.

He then removed the straps of your dress, slowly kissing all the way down your neck to your almost exposed chest. He pulled away, enough to look at the now barely-visible hickey Heeseung did.

Jake let out a deep groan “You don’t know how much this drove me insane.” He commented, trailing his thumb over it

“Yeah?” You asked “Were you jealous?”

“I wanted to rip his head off.” He said, kissing you again “Wanted to cover your whole body with hickeys and my marks, just to let him know who you belong to.”

You nodded, “Do it,” You breathed out “Make me yours, Jake.”

He unconsciously bucked his hips to meet yours, his clothed bulge poking your pussy “Fuck baby, you can’t tell me that.” He whispered, attaching his lips on your neck again.

Jake lowered the dress until it rested on your hips, palming your breasts, growling at the feeling.

You gasped when his lips engulfed your nipple, twirling his tongue round it. Your hand went to grasp his hair while the other slowly lowered his boxers until his painful erection was free.

Jake helped you out of your dress and underwear until you were standing in front of each other naked. “I’ll worship your body another time.” He murmured, trailing his fingers down your chest “For now, I just want to fuck you rough.”

You smirked and shook your head, making Jake widen his eyes “You don’t want this? I can stop.”

“No, I want it.” You stated, slowly sinking on your knees “I just need to show you my skills first.”

That was the hottest thing anyone could’ve done to Jake, his cock twitched in front of you. It was huge, veiny and hard, his mushroom tip looking ever so delicious.

“You see, baby? This is what you do to me.” He pumped his shaft, brushing it on your lips.

“Stick out that tongue for me.” You did as told and stuck your tongue out as Jake laid his cock on it, bucking his hips back and forth. The spongy and warm texture already making it leak with precum.

You played with his balls while you took him whole in your mouth, gagging when it hit the back of your throat. The filthy sounds filled the room as he took a hold of your head, fisting your hair in a makeshift ponytail while he thrusted inside your throat.

“So good.” He panted, his head thrown back and brows knitted.

You twirled your tongue around his cock, pumping it with your hands where your lips couldn’t reach “Sucking my cock so well.”

Before you could even register, Jake pulled out and raised you from your armpits, placing you on the bed.

“I need to feel your pussy.” He stated, rubbing your clit with his thumb “Want to use a condom, baby?” He asked, “Just tell me.”

You shook your head, bringing him down onto you in a heated kiss “Fuck me raw.” He moaned in the kiss and fisted his shaft again, gathering your juices, you got so wet even by just giving him a blow.

He slowly inserted himself in you, the stretch causing you to pant. You weren’t a virgin but he was bigger than the ones you had before, so it took a moment for you to get used to it.

Jake’s thrusts were nice and slow at first, his forehead resting on yours “I can’t resist.” He breathed out, giving a deeper thrust “Please, can I move?”

You nodded your head, trying to breathe steadily. Jake raised from you and spread your legs open while he moved inside you. You grasped your tits, palming them while maintaining eye contact with Jake.

“You don’t know how much I wanted this,” He groaned, pulling out just to spit on your hole to fill it again “Pussy so tight can barely move.”

Your hand went down to rub circles on your clit, trying to make it wetter as his thrusts gained speed.

Jake slapped your hand and commanded “Hands around your ankles.” And so you complied.

He leaned down and kissed you sloppily, his hips moving back and forth at a delicious rhythm. You moaned out loud.

Holding your head up to rest his forehead on it, your eyes still locked with the others as your body connected fanatically, Jake twitched inside of you and halted his movements.

“Fuckk, almost came.” He chuckled, pulling out of you.

“Want to last longer than this.” He took your body and turned you around, you raised yourself on your arms and leaned your ass up.

“You like being fucked in doggy, mh?” He spammed your ass “Looking so eager to be fucked dumb, you won’t think about anything but my cock in you.”

Jake pushed himself inside of you again, making you moan out his name “Yes, that’s me.” He groaned “Say it again.”

“Jake.” You gasped, he fisted your hair, making you arch your back while he rutted your body “Oh, Y/N.” He moaned as well.

Putting one hand around your neck, he squeezed it as he threw his own head back, lost in the pleasure your warm walls were giving you.

“Fuck baby, I’m not gonna last long.” He panted, stopping his movements to edge himself “Just fuck me.” You pleaded, frustrated by your own denied orgasm every time he stopped.

“Sorry,” He chuckled, spanking your ass and leaning down to kiss the back of your shoulder “You want to cum?”

You nodded, raising yourself to kiss him passionately as he slowly thrusted inside you “Can you ride me, baby? Pretty please?”

Jake looked so hot, messy bangs sticking to his forehead and heavy breath, you couldn’t do anything but agree to everything he said.

You waited for him to lay down, his back pressed against the headboard of the bed as you straddled him.

You rubbed your wet folds on his hard-on, Jake reached for your tits and squeezed them “Have I ever told you you’re so fucking hot?” He asked.

You chuckled “No, but I already know that.” You winked and raised yourself on your knees, slowly sinking down on his cock.

The stretch was still a little painful, but nothing compared to the pleasure his dick was giving you.

You moved on him, up and down at a slow but deep rhythm, feeling him all as he hit your cervix with each thrust.

Jake moved your hair out of your face, his lips attaching to your boob as if he was a toddler in desperate need of milk.

You moaned, your hands grasping his shoulders as you moved back and forth at a quick speed.

“Oh yes.” He put his hands behind his head and watched as you rode him, your mouth agape, gasping for air while shaky moans escaped your lips “Feels good.”

Your legs started to shake and you could barely keep yourself up as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten “I’ve got you.” Jake noticed and made you lay on his chest, his hands spreading your ass cheeks as he started rutting inside you, his pace so quick you didn’t know it was possible.

Your pussy clenched around his cock, creaming him as you fell apart, your moans loud and whole body shaking.

Jake didn’t stop, he chased his own orgasm which was so close.

“You're just made to please me.” He panted, giving a few more thrusts “You're made to squeeze every drop of cum from my cock.” His eyes rolled back with a low groan as he shot his load, his cock twitching until it emptied in you.

You both stayed there for a while, just trying to steady your breaths and calm your racing hearts.

Jake slowly traced your back with his fingers, a featherlight touch sending shivers all dove your spine.

He pulled out, his cum dripping down from your pussy to your thighs and bedsheets.

Jake helped you sit up and removed a few strands of hair that got stuck to your face “You look gorgeous.” He whispered, earning a smile from you “And you did amazing.”

He cleaned you up and threw the dirty sheets on the floor “I’m sorry for whoever will have to clean them tomorrow.” You commented, grimacing.

“Don’t worry about it,” He soothed, settling himself beside you and holding you on his chest, gently caressing your bare shoulder.

You looked up at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You should start making choices for your own happiness, Jake.” You murmured

Jake let out a small sigh “Indeed, I should.” He pressed a kiss on your brow “I want to choose you, not my parents, not anyone else. Only you.” You smiled, “I only want you, too.”

“I’ll find a way to fight my parents, I promise I’ll be stronger this time.” Your eyes softened at his words, you caressed his cheek and he leaned on your palm, melting “Oh Jake, you’re the strongest person I know.” You confessed.

“Really?” He asked, looking like a lost boy, “Really.” You confirmed.

Suddenly, your stomach growled loudly. Jake glanced at his phone he had found in his forgotten jeans and put on the bedside table “It’s late night, ma chérie. You’re hungry?”

You nodded, “I want steak.” Jake snorted at your joke “And I want a burger.” He said back.

“Hanging out with a girl from the other side of the town changed you.” You smirked, nudging his shoulders

“Yeah. For the better.”

THE END.

1K notes · View notes

hottestvirgin · 6 months

Text

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒: 𝐍𝐀 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

warnings. dom!jaemin, sub!reader, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, public sex, dirty talk, passing out, overstimulation, squirting, creampie

it hasn’t even been an hour into this picnic and your boyfriend’s already horny. his excuse? your sundress.

you couldn’t blame him. you looked so pretty in this new dress and you knew it. jaemin loved how much the white piece of cloth set off your glowing skin.. but especially your curves.

“i wanna fuck you so bad.” jaemin tells you in that tone where it’s both playful and serious but it weirdly sends a shiver down your spine.

tsking at his words, you take a strawberry between your plush lips, taking a bite. jaemin licks his lips slowly, still holding your gaze. “you gon’ let me?”

taking a few seconds to scope the scenery, surrounded by tall, pretty trees, you nod at his words. “let’s be quick.”

so that’s how you found yourself bent over the picnic blanket with your dress bunched up around your waist. the center of your soaking panties pulled to the side so jaemin can bully his thick cock into your dripping cunt.

he’s gripping onto the amassed dress, knuckles turning white. he uses the cloth to hold and pull you back onto his cock to meet his thrusts, creating a creamy ring on his shaft.

you were choking on your own saliva from how often you were forgetting to swallow. your mouth’s just agape and it makes each thrust of his rough hips punch a moan out of your poor lungs.

“gimme your hands.” jaemin grunts and he wraps his own hands around your forearms, leaning slightly back and using your arms to balance his weight and pound into you.

the sweet, lewd sounds of your ass clapping back onto his skin fills nature’s silence.

you didn’t know what to do with yourself. jaemin never slows his hips, abusing that sweet, soft gushy spot inside of you. “s—shiiit. juzz.. just like that. pleeeze.”

“yeah? feels good huh?” jaemin grins at your slurred words and straightens his posture, pushing you down onto your stomach to sit on the back of your thighs, burying his cock further into you.

he holds your head down, slamming his hips into you and fuck. you were seeing fucking stars. not even stars anymore. suddenly, just black. and jaemin keeps rutting into your unconscious body, reaching over to cup and squeeze your plush cheeks together.

“you still with me, baby?” jaemin’s hand snakes down to your waist, squeezing there and you gain consciousness, squirting around him with a scream.

he holds down your squirming body, finding amusement in how you’re trying to pull away from his hold.

“so cute.. tryna’ run from it?” jaemin coos and lands a hard blow on your ass, earning a squeal from you.

“i can’t! i can’t take it.. gonna cum..” you whine, thighs starting to quiver uncontrollably.

“you can take it, pretty. doin’ so good for me, shit.” jaemin grunts, feeling his own orgasm approaching, “making such a mess on me, is my dick that good?”

you nod rapidly at his question, drooling against your arm. “love your cock soooo much.”

he hums at your words. “mhm.. i hear you. i’m in so fuckin’ deep, you feel that?” jaemin still his hips, pushing his cock in to the hilt while he lays on top of your back. and fuck. fuckfuckfuck. this had you over the edge on whatever you were clinging onto.

“oh my god.. baby, m’ gonna cum— i’m coming..” you cry into your arms, biting onto your skin to suppress the screams that tries to escape your lungs.

and jaemin rocks his hips against you. so slow and devoted, and you’re clenching hard around him, coming so fucking hard that your whole body shakes.

“f-fuck. i’m coming..” jaemin chants as he rides out his orgasm, panting your fluttering walls with his fluids. he lays his forehead onto your back, panting heavily.

“Y/N?” he calls out, shaking your shoulder. fuck, you had passed out again.

#hottestvirginwrites #smut #nct dream smut #nct dream hard hours #nct dream hard thoughts #jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #jaemin hard hours #jaemin hard thoughts

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luveline · 1 year

Note

Ok what about a lil fic of Remus being snappy with his gf leading up to the full moon? Just some angst and then fluffy ending with them reconciling

thank u for ur request! —remus says something he shouldn't before the full moon, and later campaigns for your forgiveness with affection and a confession. fem!reader, 1.2k

Remus lays on the couch with his forearm pressed to his eyes. It's the day before the full moon, and he feels the hours approaching like a death sentence every time. You hover in the doorway, watching, unsure of how to help. He gets the same every month (or rather, every cycle).

Irritable. So anxious he can't breathe properly, let alone enter conversation.

You hate seeing him like this. Your Remus, who spends every moment you're together trying to make sure you're as happy as you can be.

Cautious, you round the sofa to crouch by his face. You hold out your hand, trailing a gentle fingertip down the length of his arm, tripping over pinched skin ridged by scars. He's beautiful no matter what, but he gets insecure about how he looks every full moon. You know he thinks he's a monster. You've no way to prove it to him beyond this.

"Hey, handsome," you say softly. "I know you're not hungry, but I made dinner anyway if you feel up to it. And I know," —you drop your voice to a near whisper— "I know you're not in the mood, but I'm here. I can sit here and stroke your hair in silence all night if that's what you want, my love. I'll do whatever you want."

"Then leave me alone," he says.

Half snap, half firm defeat. You wince at the ire in his voice. It won't ever be nice to have someone you love speak to you like you're getting on their nerves, but you know what it is he's facing. You know this is hard for him to cope with. You can forgive him for everything if he makes it through this in one piece.

"Okay. I'm sorry. I love you, Remus."

He turns his head toward the sofa cushions.

You leave the room with a heavy heart. In the kitchen, you try to eat, but every mouthful makes you feel sick, your eyes welling with tears as you chew. You're hurt, he's hurting, and this really, really sucks.

The smell of dinner starts to amplify the nausea. You grab your plate and carry it to the back door, scraping your leftovers straight into the rubbish. You wash your plate and leave it to drip dry on the draining board, your eyes burning. You sniff, wiping your nose in your sleeve.

You're hoping desperately that Remus will come around before bed, but he stays where he is. Thinking he's finally found sleep and wanting to leave him to that blissful reprieve, you creep through the living room and down the hallway into the bedroom. Tears fall as you change into your pyjamas. You're so tired that you barely have time to cry yourself to sleep.

You're not sure how much longer it is when you wake. A familiar hand cups your cheek.

From the warmth of your skin, he's had his hand there for a while.

"I'm so sorry," Remus says.

You don't know how he knows you're awake. He must have been watching you long enough to spot the difference. Honestly, you're not sure you want to see him yet, because you love him so much, and it breaks your heart to be at the end of his disdain even when you know the cause.

You struggle to see him in the dark.

"I should never have spoken to you like that."

Your eyes close of their own accord, exhausted and sore from crying. "You didn't mean it."

"I wish you'd shout at me," he murmurs, sliding his hand over your ear. His thumb draws along the shell of your ear.

"I'm too tired," you mumble.

Remus' head shifts closer to yours. Sharing the same pillow, his hand falls to your shoulder, his arm wrapping around you, a firm bicep pressed to your front.

You let yourself lean into it. His breath warms the space between your brows.

"It's no excuse, but I… I can't think of anything else but the pain, sometimes. I get so angry about it, because I'm–" He stops short, swallowing audibly in the otherwise silent room. "I'm scared. But I would be a hundred times more terrified if I didn't have you, knowing you're there for me, unflinchingly, before and after it happens, it helps me get through it. It's not fair that you give me so much peace and I just…

"I'm sorry, dove. I don't mean to take advantage of your… heart." He says heart like he's been winded. He hadn't sounded finished, but everything stops at that word.

You force your eyes open. He's looking at you with an unspeakable amount of love, kind to keel you over if you were standing. His eyes are pitch black in the lack of light, irises melded with pupils, giving him an even sorrier gaze. You raise a sluggish hand to his where it rests behind your back and pull it back to your face. You miss his touch.

"I love you," you say.

"I know," he says, his jaw tensing in an attempt to stage off tears. "I love you, too." You watch them collect in the corners of his eyes, following one as it slides to rest in the dip of his nose bridge while he lies on his side like this.

"So don't be sorry."

"But I am sorry. I can't fathom why I think it's okay to treat you that way."

"You don't think at all, Remus. I'm not being flippant, but you're busy worrying about the worst of it." You shake your head gently. His hand twitches against your cheek. "I don't blame you."

"I know," he utters.

You stare up at him as he sits enough to tower over you. His smile is sorry, in love and ashamed. You want to tell him how it doesn't matter, that it's okay, but you're thinking maybe you need him to say it first.

"I'm sorry."

"Remus, you only told me to leave you alone."

"I need you to know that any other time, you're all that I want. You're everything. I couldn't ask for more than you. Please don't think I'm cruel," he pleads in a whisper.

You lift your chin incrementally. "I'd never think that."

His apology kiss is coddling. Like he's worried he'll hurt you, like he's holding back, he kisses you like you can't handle more than a chaste press of the lips.

"I love you," he says into it.

You lift your head to kiss him harder. You love him, and you won't break. You can be exactly as strong as he needs you to be, so long as love waits at the end of the night.

"I love you." A huff of a laugh escapes him. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Caution has his joke falling flat.

You nuzzle your cheek against his, knowing you'd forgiven him just as soon as he'd snapped. "If you let me stroke your hair. Did you eat your dinner?"

"I'll eat it tomorrow," he says. A white lie, you both know, but he slides down further under the sheets so you can reach his head.

You card your fingers through his hair until you've both fallen asleep.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

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itneverendshere · 13 days

Text

it's my party, and i'll cry if i want to - r.c

request: I was wondering if you might write a Rafe x reader fic where Rafe forgets her birthday but then makes up with her?

you spent the entire day oscillating between disappointment and sadness.

crying on your birthday was a common thing when you were growing up, a girlhood achievement. everyone did it.

but now? now that you had rafe? your birthdays were amazing. he always went out of his way to surprise you and cherish you. he would’ve never forgotten something as important as your day.

at least you didn’t think he would, until today. yeah, long-distance had been tough on both of you since college started, and while rafe usually tried his best to make you feel special, today was different.

it had been radio silence. no messages. no missed calls. not even an instagram story reaction. and now, it was already past midnight, the day officially over. your birthday had come and gone, and he hadn’t acknowledged it once.

you lay on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to rationalize the situation.

maybe something came up. maybe he had a family emergency or got caught up in one of his class projects. you wanted to believe that. rafe had never been perfect, but he had always tried when it came to you. this, though? It felt like a gigantic slap in the face.

the soft sound of your door creaking open startled you from your thoughts. your heart raced in your chest, confused. you lived alone off-campus—no one ever came by unannounced. you sat up, wiping at your tired eyes, and just as you were about to call out, you saw him.

rafe stood there, looking haggard, his clothes slightly wrinkled, his hair messy from a long day. but the sight of him, standing in your doorway, made your heart stop. he was there. in person.

“rafe?” you nearly gasped, “what—what are you doing here?”

his blue eyes were filled with guilt, brows furrowed, he looked like he’d been through hell and back. he dropped his duffel bag onto the floor and took a hesitant step toward you. “baby—” his voice cracked. “’m so fucking sorry.”

you blinked, trying to process what was happening. “sorry for what? for not calling? for forgetting? for ignoring me all day?” you didn’t mean for your voice to sound so broken, but goddamit it was your birthday. and you spent it all alone because you were too depressed to step foot outside your stupid apartment without a text from him.

he took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “didn’t forget, baby. i swear. i was trying to surprise you, i was supposed to be here hours ago, but—” he sighed deeply, running a frustrated hand through his messy hair. “everything went to shit.”

your brow furrowed in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“i booked a flight,” he explained quietly, sitting down on the edge of your bed, his knee brushing against yours. “wanted to fly in and surprise you, to spend the whole day with you for your birthday. i didn’t want to say anything because i thought it’d be more special if i just showed up, y’know? but god must hate me or some bullshit.”

you watched him carefully, your heart beating faster, unsure where he was going with this.

“the flight got delayed—twice. then it got canceled. i spent hours trying to get on another one, but there were no other options. by the time i finally landed, it was already after midnight.” he looked down at his hands, which were fidgeting nervously. “and i know that’s no excuse, but—”

“why didn’t you call me?” you asked, “you could’ve let me know.”

rafe let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “couldn’t. my phone, uh, it broke.”

“what?” you asked, not sure if you heard him correctly.

“yeah.” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “when the flight got canceled for the second time, i—uh—i might’ve thrown my phone against a wall. i was so pissed baby, so stressed because i knew i was ruining the surprise, and then…i couldn’t even call or text you. i was stuck.”

you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. the image of rafe, frustrated and angry at an airport, throwing his phone in a fit of rage was almost too ridiculous to believe.

“so, you didn’t forget?” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. you spent the entire day making up scenarios in your head, about how maybe he’d gotten tired of being with you, how maybe he had found someone new back in college.

“no, god, no,” he shook his head fervently. “i’d never forget your birthday.”

the sincerity in his voice made you want to cry like a baby all over again. there was still the lingering ache of loneliness and insecurity, of the day you spent thinking he had.

“i thought…” you swallowed, unable to hold back the tears, “i thought you didn’t care anymore. that we weren’t… enough. i was scared,” you admitted after a long pause. “that maybe you were pulling away. maybe we weren’t working anymore.”

rafe’s brows furrowed, and he quickly shook his head. “no. never. we’re working, okay? this long-distance bullshit—it sucks. but you and me? it’s forever, okay?”

you nodded slowly, “i really missed you.”

his expression dropped at your words, and in an instant, he was pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. his scent, the feel of him, it was all so familiar, so comforting. you buried your face in his chest.

“shh, baby,” he murmured, his hand running soothingly through your hair as he kissed the top of your head. “’m so sorry. i never meant to hurt you. fuck, i hate that i made you feel like that. i wanted today to be perfect for you.”

you sniffled, trying to calm your breathing as you clung to him. “it wasn’t perfect.”

“i know,” he whispered, “i messed up. should’ve found a way to reach you, should’ve figured it out. you don’t deserve that, not on your birthday, not ever.”

he had tried. he had wanted to be here. and while it hadn’t gone the way either of you planned, his presence now, his arms around you, felt like all you needed.

“you threw your phone?” you asked, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth despite everything.

rafe’s face flushed with embarrassment, but he chuckled softly. “yeah, it wasn’t my proudest moment, shattered pretty badly. i don’t even know if I can get it fixed.”

“that’s so stupid.”

he laughed softly at your words, the sound rumbling through his chest where you were still nestled. his arms tightened around you just a little, as if he was scared you might slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough. “i was so pissed, baby. i thought I was ruining everything.”

you pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your eyes red and puffy from the tears you’d been holding in all day. “you did ruin it,” you teased softly, though there was no real bite behind your words.

rafe still winced even thought he could tell you were joking, “maybe i could’ve borrowed someone’s phone at the airport, or... i don’t know, sent a smoke signal or something.”

it wasn’t the grand birthday surprise he’d been planning, and it wasn’t the perfect day you had imagined, but right now, having him here—seeing how much he cared—it was starting to feel like enough.

you snorted, “smoke signal, huh?”

he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at you as you audibly cooed at his dimples, "yeah, or, like... maybe hired a skywriter? whatever it took. i would've done anything to get to you."

you chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes, the lingering tears drying up now, “so dramatic.”

“’m serious,” he insisted as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing softly over your cheeks. “i’d swim across the damn ocean for you if i had to. swear to god, baby. nothing was going to stop me from getting here.”

the love in his eyes took your breath away. he wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better; you could see in his face, that he meant every word. the frustration and desperation of the day had taken its toll on him too. he had been trying so hard to be with you, to make your day special, and in that moment, you know much he hated that he couldn’t.

“you’ll make me cry again,” you groaned, feeling your heart swell with emotion. it wasn’t perfect, but the lengths he had gone to just to be with you made you want to kiss him stupid. he was here now, holding you like you were his entire world.

he leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your lips as he murmured, “’m sorry i messed it up. i hate that you spent the day feeling like i didn’t care. you mean everything to me.”

tour chest tightened, “i felt so alone, didn’t know what to think.”

“i know,” he replied softly, his hands gently holding your face. “but sweetheart, i don’t care if we’re a thousand miles apart, i’ll always be here when you need me. ’m not going anywhere.”

the tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from sadness, only from the overwhelming love you felt for him, for the boy who would go to any lengths just to be by your side.

“i love you,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you spoke the words.

rafe smiled, his eyes softening as he kissed you gently, his lips lingering against yours in a slow, tender moment. “i love you too. so much.”

you sighed into the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his messy hair, pulling him closer. the pressure that had been sitting in your chest all day seemed to disappear as his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, as if he could keep all the hurt and disappointment away just by being near. it was just rafe—his hands gripping you like he couldn’t imagine to let you go, his lips coaxing out all the tension and loneliness you’d felt throughout the day.

when he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours again, his lips curving into a playful smirk. “so… about the whole swimming across the ocean thing. think you’d be impressed?”

you giggled, rolling your eyes. “you’d probably drown halfway.”

“oh? so what i’m hearing is you don’t want your present.”

you nudged him playfully with your elbow. “i deserve at least three.”

“you want more presents now? greedy.”

you crossed your arms, trying to maintain your teasing tone despite the closeness, “you haven’t even wished me a happy birthday.”

he leaned back, elbows hitting the mattress as his lips morphed into a shit-eating grin, “was planning on doing it inside of you.”

you slapped his stomach, “don’t be disgusting.”

rafe’s grin only grew wider, clearly proud of himself. “just for you, baby,” he teased, sitting up to lean in close again, his lips ghosting over yours as he added in a low whisper, “happy birthday.”

the low timber in his voice and that god-sent southern drawl sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you forgot all about the worst birthday of your life. the way he was looking at you now, like you were the only person in the world that mattered, made everything else seem insignificant.

“you’re lucky you’re hot,” you murmured, kissing him softly, your lips brushing against his with a tenderness that made his heart do that funny thing.

“damn right,” he mumbled against your mouth, kissing you back with more fervor, his hands slipping around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. “gonna make it up to you. all of it.”

you could only tilt your head back slightly as he kissed his way down your neck, your hands fisting in his hair, “i have class at 8.”

“nah,” he breathed against your skin, nose running up your neck, “you’re not leaving this bed for the next twenty-four hours.”

you couldn't help but smile as his lips trailed over your skin, “twenty-four hours?” you repeated breathlessly, your fingers tugging lightly at his hair, your heart fluttering. “you think i’ll skip class for you?”

he grinned against your collarbone, his breath hot and teasing, “know you will,” he murmured, his hands wandering over your sides, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. “i’ll make it worth your while.”

a soft laugh escaped you, "you're so cocky.”

"confident," he corrected with a smirk, lifting his head to meet your gaze. he brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his touch soft despite his rough hands, “i’ll spend the rest of the night making it up to you. making sure you know just how much i love you.”

leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his in a slow, lingering kiss, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him beneath your hands.

“i love you,” you whispered against his lips, your voice barely a breath, but in that moment, you knew he heard every word.

“i love you more.”

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xqueen-of-disasterx · 9 months

Text

Say yes to me

Paring: fem!reader x alpha!Nat

Warnings: SMUT, a/b/o, alpha Nat, omega reader, consensual human trafficking?, sex toys, begging, praise kink, pet names, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie, belly bulges, age gap (obviously)

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

A/N: look who’s back

Masterlist-

You were prepared for once belonging to an powerful alpha, after all you had spent all your upbringing on a farm designed to produce omegas like you. In a world where most of the population either consisted of betas or alphas your kind was especially rare. Which meant there weren’t enough omegas for the alphas and that concluded in the farms like the one you had grew up in. The avengers mostly consisted of alphas, alphas with mates. Tony had Pepper, Clint had Laura and Nat had well no one until now. Tony thought he had been a damn genius when he got the idea what to get Nat for her 40th birthday. Why not get the alpha her very own mate?

Natasha couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw you, younger, unmated and exactly her type. She was grateful for her gift of course, ever since she got you she had been all over you. Trying to make you hers. Natasha despised the idea by mating you by force so she tried her best to appeal to you. You were surprised by the kindness of the older alpha as she respected your borders and never made you uncomfortable. She’d take you out to dinner, watch your favourite movies and even teach you some martial art.

You were certain to mate with her after all it wasn’t like you had much of a choice, however you weren’t complaining. You didn’t want her, no, you needed her. Every time you sat down on her lap and let her cock strain in her boxers. You tried to kiss her again and again but it never brought you anywhere. She insisted on waiting until your second heat which one bothered you more after all you hadn’t even had your first.

"Please Tasha" you whined rolling your hips in anticipation for her. "You know what the farm said mating in your sleeping with an alpha in your first heat only makes it wore" You rolled you eyes sitting up to get a better view of the assassin sitting on the edge of the king sized bed. "I need it, please touch me, please. You begged her. "We can use the toys they gave you for your heat" She prosed, it took everything in her not to mate you right now.

"Better than nothing" You signed watching Natasha tug off your shorts. She climbed up your body catching your lips in a heated kiss. You released whimpers as she shoved her tongue down her throat. You rocked your hips against hers, crotch on crotch as you tried to get her attention. "Fuck, you're a naughty girl" She groaned kissing down your neck to your chest nibbling on the sensitive skin of your breasts. "Please Tasha, please" you begged her "I'll make it better I promise кроли" Her calling you russian pet names only made you go even more crazy.

She had you laying on her chest with your back your legs spread over her crotch. One hand played with your breast using it as a sort of stress ball as she paled the sensitive flesh with her veiny hands. The other one held a vibrator to your puffy clit as you buckled your hips desperately against the toy. She had put it on a low setting enough to make you get close to your edge but not enough to actually make you cum. You moaned right in the older woman's ear in an attempted to get her to break her facade and finally mate you.

After a while of teasing your puffy cunt he decided to finally turn the toy up to give you the sweet release. You threw your head back on her shoulder crying out for a release. "Good girl" She praised you once more turning the device higher. "Come on sweet girl cum for me, cum for your alpha" With a few more rolls of your hips you had your release pressing your face into her neck as you clenched around nothing. Natasha helped you through your first orgasm of the night but you were far from satisfied, you were going to get her to mate with you that day.

Natasha seemingly not aware of your determination stood up from the bed to get a wash cloth from the bath couldn't believe her eyes when she came back to her bed room. You had placed yourself on her bed on all fours you back arched to present your tripping holes to the older alpha. "Please alpha breed me" You whined your face smushed against the soft pillow.

"Fuck you're making this hard for me baby girl" she chuckled standing behind you to palm your ass. "Jus' take me this rule is so stupid" you complained, there had been this stupid rule of not mating in your first heat because it should be something every omega should get over with however you couldn't care less. You could hear her unbuckling her belt before hearing the sound of the zipper going down. She placed herself behind you rubbing two fingers through your slit before pushing them past your tight hole.

"Fuck you're tighter than I thought but I'll make it fit кролик" She smirked pulling her fingers out again before alining her self behind you. Natasha pushed her hips forward pushing her cock into for weeping hole. She was big, bigger than you thought but after a while her stretch was so delicious you'd never want anything else. After she bottomed you out she waited for your approval to move. Her hands smooth over your lower back and womb feeling a small bump where the head of your cock was whimpering at the feeling of your tight walls behind her.

"Please, Natty, move" You breathed out anticipating the movement of the older woman. She started to pump her dick in and out your already sensitive cunt. You couldn't help but release sweet whimpers at the fast pace she had she had set. One arm sneaked around your body pulling you up against her chest as she never stopped pounding into you. She released an almost animalistic groan before biting down on your shoulder making you cry out to mark you as her mate.

"Fuck" She groaned into your ear "I'm gonna fuck you pregnant, you'll be tripping with my cum when I'm done with you" "Please Tasha breed me with your pups" You cried out. One of her exercised hands found its way to your overstimulated Clit rubbing the nub. "Cum, cum with me" She called out before releasing inside of your womb painting the insides white as her knot formed making her slow her movement. That triggered your own orgasm making you see stars.

She held you close caressing your body and whispering sweet nothings into you ear as she writhe for her knot to disappear. After awhile she pulled out to place you on the soft mattress she took a look between your leg to see your ruined cunt sum tripping out of your abused hole onto the beddings. The sight only made her hard again. "Ready for round 2"

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #alpha natasha #a/b/o

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simpjaes · 7 days

Note

Sunghoon calling reader bunny while they’re fucking please please please. maybe she had a high sex drive and always bothers sunghoon for cock but he doesn’t mind

warning: phone sex, implied fisting lmfao, reader is always horny

It's not that Sunghoon can't handle your libido or anything, it's mostly just that you're horny all the time and more often than not, at times he can't realistically take care of you.

You're quite demanding though. He also can't really say that he doesn't love that about you either. With the way he'll be presenting a new idea to his team and his phone will start blaring with repeated calls until he takes a step out with an apology, only to hear the way your fingers slip in and out of yourself with moans of his name.

More times than not, he'll see himself to the bathroom just to listen, just to admire how much you need him. How much you wish he could keep you and fuck you all day, every day.

A fuck bunny, is what you are, and you're fucking proud of it. ~ "Babe-" Your boyfriend interrupts the ringing in your ears through the muffled speaker. "Please, I'm with my mom." You whine, making a fuss all while moaning out, needing him more than ever at this moment. Your body feeling hot, needy, and insatiable for a cock that belongs to this specific, pleading voice. There's a small threat when you respond, one that always, always works on him. "Jay wouldn't be igno-" "Stop fucking bringing him up." Sunghoon whispers angrily into the phone, a door closing on his end. "Do you want to cum or not?" "Mhm-" You half moan, already close if he so much as demands it of you. "I have a minute, Mom thinks I've just gotta piss." Sunghoon explains. "How many fingers?" "Four." You seethe, wishing he'd let you use all of those toys that are abandoned, locked in his dresser. "Want more." Sunghoon can't help the way his cock jumps, knowing exactly how you look when you try to angle your body to somehow fit more. Such small hands, you could take it all if you manage to last long enough to need it. "One more." Sunghoon instructs, gripping himself through his pants, leaning against the bathroom wall and wondering if he needs to cum or force his arousal down before seeing his mother again. God, he wishes he was home. You really have him wrapped around all four of those slippery fingers, don't you? He hears you gasp, knowing you've fit the last finger in. "Push." He smiles through a bite on his lip, listening to your struggled breathing. "Push, bunny, you can fit more for me, can't you?" You do, feeling a stretch so painful that you let out a near animalistic cry. You feel yourself sweating, your pussy drenching each finger your right hand has to offer, and you push. "Now-" He catches a breath, squeezing his pulsing length once, already feeling the dampened spot leak through his pants. "Cum for me once, and stay there until I get home, okay?" You nod, knowing he can't see you but more than aware that he knows you'll do it. All for him. You'll do anything, everything, for him. Starting with the orgasm, ending with the feeling of emptiness until he makes it home and fills you up. Instantly, you shake, plunging and pushing as much into yourself as you can manage, listening closely to the way his line is silent. You love when he listens, love how he loves you back, fucking adore how his own mother would never know her son is so filthy good at getting you off. And, you keep that promise, dripping, drenching his bed and not moving a muscle after the fact. Even after he hangs up, you lay in your mess, playing with your clit through the sensitivity up until you feel you could take far more than all five of your fingers. On Sunghoon's end though, he's embarrassed. Walking around with his mother as if his cock isn't tucked under his waistband threatening him if he doesn't get home to fuck you soon. Thankfully, excuses are easy for such a clean cut and well-behaved man. Really, His mother doesn't even doubt him when he apologized and says he needs to get home. Not a single hug, barely even a goodbye.

#sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours

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c4teyezz · 8 months

Text

my fav jjk men with babies lol

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my fav jjk men x afab!reader

i kept the baby gender neutral for yall in case, i dont want ppl coming to me like “nO hE wOulD dEfinEtly hAve a-“ shut.

note: on nanamis part it mentions reader being pregnant 🤰

characters: gojo saturo, geto suguru, sukuna ryomen, higuruma hiromi, nanami kento, kusakabe atsuya, toji fushiguro

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Gojo Saturo

- spoils the baby 24/7 and the things the baby has are the best of the best, the price doesnt matter to him

- idk why but he likes taking a big whiff of the babies hair then going like “ahhhh!” after and then kissing their scalp

“look babe i just bought some new clothes for our little one” gojo said smiling up at you as you entered the room. gojo is sitting on the foam rug thing with the baby laying down on it

gojo held up the baby carefully while supporting their neck at the same time to show you their fit. “thats so cute!” you responded then sitting down with him, you look at the tags that gojo ripped out from the clothes “saturo what did i say abt rubbish- $200!? WE SHOULD BE USING THAT MONEY FOR THEIR FOOD”

Geto Suguru

- i feel like hes gonna be a fairly strict but not too strict of a father

- he loveeessss wrapping them up in his robes, hugging/carrying them around like that wherever he goes in the house

“ah-! let go of my hair!” suguru demanded but not doing anything to stop it, the baby just giggles at their fathers reaction not knowing that their lowkey hurting their dad bc obviously theyre just a baby…

you take a quick pic of the sight thats in front of you, giggling along with your baby

“damn this thing is strong!” he said

“dont call your kid a thing!”

Sukuna Ryomen

- he mostly watches you take care of “the brat” he calls them, but is willing to help as long as you give him clear instructions on what the hell hes supposed to do with “it”

- i can see him holding his kid upside down with their legs when theyre like 6 or something and sometimes he drops them on purpose before quickly and successfully catching them, he has no intentions of hurting them, hes mostly doing it to fuck with you. i mean he made the kid laugh so lol

“what the fuck its crying” he pointed out to you as you rock the baby gently in your arms

“yeah i can see that… and stop calling them ‘it’, theyre not some sort of rare space specimen”

Higuruma Hiromi

- even tho in the manga hes portrayed as the classic “no humor, cold, tired man in a suit” kind of guy, i honestly dont think hes just that, hes just like that in professional settings and when things are serious. i can see him make light jokes, like he did with itadori, so he’d definitely do the same with his baby

- he likes gently scratching the babys back, as he knows its relaxing i mean who doesnt like a good scratch on the back sometimes. he doesnt mind when the baby starts fiddling with his tie, but when the baby chews on if he definitely gets a bit grossed out

“bah!” hiromi jokingly surprised the baby which made the baby flinch and cry at their father, hiromi laughed at the baby’s raction “sorry” Hiromi gently apologised while smiling at them, then went back to scare them one more time by covering his face then quickly uncovering his face “boo!”

this time the baby laughed with their father and you recorded the fun moment

(this is also inspired by a reel i saw on instagram, it was so cute 😭)

Nanami Kento

- HANDS DOWN THE BEST FATHER DUH WTF??? do we even have to argue???? since the baby hes been cutting his alcohol drinking as he doesnt want the baby’s sensitive lungs to suffer from the smell. he also lovessssss skin to skin, when the baby popped out and it was his turn to hold the baby in his bare chest, he was over the moonnnnn

- ngl he would mostly take care of the baby more than you, his excuse is since you carried the baby for 9 months, so its his job to support and deal with the baby most of the time mwah mwah

you stare at him feeding your baby their bottle, whose also safely tucked in his loving arms

“kento can i feed them now?” you asked him

“go rest honey, you deserve it” he responded, kissing you on the forehead

“thats my baby youre hogging!”

Kusakabe atsuya

- omg he likes making the baby dance, the baby cant walk yet, so he’d hold them up and make them look like theyre dancing by making them look like their doing that default baby dance toddlers do or gently swing them side to side

- loves placing them on his chest as they sleep as he fiddles with their tiny hand. also he strictly calls them by their shorter version of their name or a random nickname that suits them

“mmph! stop trying to grab my lolly!” atsuya told the baby as it tried reaching for it, eventually the baby caught the stick of the lollipop and forced it out of their dads mouth and putting it into theirs

“hehe gross”

fushiguro toji

- he plays with them by making them pretend that theyre boxing with their hands

- naps naps napsssssss, he always puts them on his chest so that they can nap together on the couch. but sometimes when toji snores, he lets out a loud snore which scares the baby into waking up crying lmfaoooooooo

“hell nah”

“toji just wipe their ass already, im trying to show you how change their diaper”

“fucking hell…” toji muttered as he slowly lifts the baby by their legs

okay maybe hes not the best when it comes to helping sometimes, but at least hes willing to try

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maayong gabii lahat!!! (good evening everyone!!!)

hehe i just wanna say thank you guys for the likes, reblogs, comments, and followers so far :))))

damo nga salamatttt (thank you so muchhhh)

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diejager · 9 months

Note

more eldritch:konig X his darling mermaid, please & thank you

Saccharine and Monstrosity pt.2

Pairing: Eldritch Horror!König x mermaid!reader

Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, DARK FIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, breeding kink, protective König, hunting, oviposition, tentacles, eggpreg, stomach bulge, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, possessive behaviour, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2.6k

You hadn’t seen the sun in a while, neither had you gone hunting, nor seen your parents. You missed the freedom you had, swimming and racing the others mers your age through the coral reefs, that mundane, but fun activity you did once in a while when everyone gathered at the same spot.

“Please, König, I just want to lay in the sun!”

“Nein, the outside world is dangerous, Schatz, ” his tone seemed apologetic, eyes cast down, avoiding your tearful eyes that gleamed beautifully from the bioluminescent plants, “I cannot.”

That was what he always told you, his words repeated on themselves, overlapping in your mind without holding much intent of substance to it. Why would it when all he told you was no? His excuses were getting old, they rarely changed over the few months he kept you in his cave, the little haven you grew to love now became a prison, a pretty cage to keep you locked away from the world you were born into. They always had an aspect in common: danger. He would say that it was too dangerous for you, that there were horrors living around his cave and wandering too closely to the edge you found him, the precipice of light and darkness that he stalked you from. If it wasn’t that, he’d push strongly that you could be taken away from him, caught and eaten by another Eldritch Horror that didn’t have the same obsession and favorability for pretty things like you.

He slowly approached you, arms reaching out towards you to embrace you, his fingers finding the softness of your hips. Kneading the line between your skin and scales, thumb smoothing over your opalescent scales, the smooth surface of it that helped you swim as swiftly as you could. You were a quick, little mouse, able to outrun him if you put enough effort and intention in it to escape his limbs. You shuddered against him, looping your arms around him for comfort that he never kept from you, often reminding you that he loved you and that he would do anything for you —except give you back your freedom.

You sobbed, a heart-wrenching cry slipping out of your pout, your glossy lips pulled down while pearly tears floated upwards, the density of your tears weighing less than the heaviness in his cave, a closed-off ocean of horror he painted over with enthusiasm and comfort. He whispered sweet words to you, smaller tentacles slipping under his hood to cradle your face. They acted as individual fingers, holding your face as if they were hands holding your chin up, curling under your jaw and eyes with the smooth side of his limbs, keeping the suckers away from your pretty face. He touched you so gently, careful to never break your skin or dirty the angelic image he had of you in his sickened mind. He wrapped himself around you, his thicker limbs latching onto you with the intention of never letting go, curling and looping around one another. The messy bundles kept you stuck to him as you whined, crying out the frustration and sadness you felt throughout your situation.

“Hush, don’t cry, mein kleiner Schatzi,” he wiped away your tears, and collected them between the suckers of his arms, watching them gleam with an opalescent shine, much like those of black mollusc shells. They were a spectacle, a beautiful thing coming from his precious mate, “We can go out when it is safe, ja?”

You nodded your little head, closing your eyes and nuzzling against his broad chest, the softness of his scarred skin that easily moulded to fit your shape. It was strange how easily he changed to fit your liking, to answer to your whims despite your protest or your reluctance. You couldn’t hate him, you simply couldn’t after all the things he did for you and how well he cared for you. Perhaps you’d fallen for him, falling so deeply in this hole of unwilling darkness and strange affection —your naivety working against your betterment and with his mind, dark and wretched. Despite your wails and frustrations towards König, he was all you had, all you had known for the past months, so you sought comfort and safety from him, unknowingly falling into his plan.

You let him lead you away from the open entrance, down the wide gate of his - your - room to lay you down, unable to move from the confines of his many arms and the warmth he provided. König was warm, he’d always burned hot compared to the cold waters of the abyss, the swirling vacuum of freezing water that seemed to have no end and the surface that stayed cool despite bathing under the sun for half the day. You thrived on warmth, soaking it up to keep your metabolism going, to be able to function without crashing or slowing down, you needed it and you depended on König to keep you warm.

He pressed down on you, his broad figure looming over your smaller and fragile one, casting a dark shadow with his sole presence. He brushed your hair away, the tip of his tentacle tickling your ear as he murmured temptation, his wide palms leaving your hips to trail down the curve of your navel, teasing the dilated hole of your core, blinking and oozing out slick. He pressed a finger in, listening to you mewl and squirm in his tight hold, your tail twisting and turning before ultimately bucking into his palm when he slid a second one in. He watched your pretty lips part in a gasp, eyes rolling back in pleasure, your lashes fluttering so prettily for him. You felt him everywhere, he was inside of you and all around you, his many arms working as extensions of his presence, teasing you with his little suckers, pulling and biting at you.

“Let me ease your mind,” his mask rose over his nose, tentacles parting like curtains to kiss you. It was all teeth and aggression, his kiss turning into a sign of possession, marking you with his taste and scent. He didn’t have any lips, or lips similar to yours, they were flat, hidden by a moustache of tentacles, thinner and shorter than his other ones, “Help you relax.”

They easily slipped into your mouth as he pumped you, fingers curling into the softer part of your cunt. You mewled, rutting back, walls clamping down on his fingers, their thick and rough textures doing you in with the flick of your swollen nub once he coached it out of its protective sheath. He slipped the straps of your bra down your shoulder, letting the cup sag enough to show your pretty nipples, perky and glistening, tempting him to kiss and bite at them. In his rush, he snapped your bra from the middle by the girth of his tentacles, curling around your tits to knead and play with your little nubs, covering them with a sucker and he pulled, the ride closing around it and pulled. You clamped down on him, your slick sticking to his hand as you burst, eyes rolled back so far that all you could see was the white. König admired you, his eyes gleaming with glee at your climax, helping you ride it out with slow pumps of his fingers. He watched your pupils dilate, steadily coming down from your high with laboured breathing.

“You look so pretty like this,” he smiled under his hood, his eyes creasing in the low light. They roved over your face, over your hooded eyes and your parted mouth, down the slope of your neck and the swell of your breasts, and ending at your cunt, your labia closed around two digits, slick and throbbing. “You drive me crazy, Schatz.”

He was panting, his body riled up with how much his many limbs were swaying, latching onto you and hungrily climbing over you. He mumbled incoherent words, his pretty blues turning a bright red, a bloody crimson that made you feel apprehensive, fear and anxiety spiking in your mind despite the pleasurable buzz. You peered down when you felt something nudge your finger-filled cunt, looking at a particular-looking tentacle. It was harder and slick, the tip cylindrical-like with a long shaft and covered in veins, much like the ones on his arm, bulging and throbbing. You were oblivious to its use, confused about the different shape, but once it moved, the leaky head enthusiastically dipping into you, you panicked.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, the engorged head of his arm pushing into you, guided by a hand, pumping himself to spread the slick and pre that gathered around his cock. You keened, head thrown back when he bottomed out, the veiny girth of his cock throbbing inside of you. His cock rocked into you, pulling out until his tip lingered, and your labia stretched around his thick rod before he rammed in so suddenly. It rocked you as a whole, your smaller figure jerked back with every hard thrust, your cervix feeling the brutality of his strength and devotion. You screamed, writhing in his restrictive hold, cunt battered by a hard, leaky cock with a flared tip, bulbous and smooth.

“Scheiße, you’re tight,” he groaned out through gritted teeth, feeling your walls stretch as wide as you could to welcome him despite his size and girth, your pussy becoming wet and sloppy with the amount of slick you produced. You pulsed around him, still sensitive from your last orgasm, clit and nipples swollen and twitching under his tentacles. He could feel everything, jolts sent down his arms followed by a euphoric sensation that ran through his mind, leaving him pussydrunk, mumbling out praises, “Du fühlst dich so gut an. Scheiße – so süß, so nass.”

You felt like you would burst, ploughed open by König’s cock arm, warm wall milking and sucking him deeper, coaxing him to fill you up with him. Your lover’s pace grew frantic, snapping harshly and deeply as if to leave a lasting presence in your innermost part, to mould your pussy into the shape of his cock and his alone, rendering you impossible to be pleasured by the sheer size difference between him and others of his kind. With a few precisely, but sloppy thrusts, he had you gushing around him, back arching - as much as you could with his strong grip - pussy clamping down on him as he fucked you into the soft algae-covered surface. You blacked out, euphoria filling your hazy mind, slick dripping down the sides of your tail and your nerves were set alight with blinding fires, burning through you so strongly.

König swore lowly, his chest rumbling against yours, his cock throbbed and his arm stuttered, pace growing unsteady as the whole length of his arm pulsed with a load of cum. He gave one last thrust, roughly slamming into your gummy cervix, before a rush of cum shot out of his tip, flooding your womb with hot, white cum. It clung to the wall of your womb like glue, coating your cunt in the same adhesive and warm substance. He groaned, nuzzling his face in your bared neck, falling victim to his wandering mouth, biting and lapping at your shoulder and throat. His whole body shook, laboured breaths kissing your sensitive skin as something travelled through the length of his shaft, small bumps varying in size, from small pearls to big grapes, steadily moving towards the flared head of his cock.

You sobbed when the first egg struggled against the entrance of your womb, breaking through the firmness of your soft entrance. It pained you, the forced pop into your virginal womb that wasn’t made to take in, but push out. Your cries were shushed by König, his reassuring words mixed with his heavy breathing that did little to dampen the pain he put you through. The first egg dropped into your womb, sticking to the walls, and another quickly joined it, plopping down beside it, weighing heavily by every egg, adding to the heaviness inside of you.

“You’re doing so well,” he brushed away your tears, his thumb gently cradling your cheek, groaning and grunting at the rising eggs and his flared tip unravelling to latch onto your whole cervix, “Just a few more, ja? I am almost done.”

His “a few more” were more so dozens than anything, stuffing you until you bloated slightly. You were exhausted, limbs as heavy as your stomach did, eyes fluttering through your hazy sight, dancing on the edge of sleep and consciousness. Perhaps if you closed your eyes, falling asleep in this moment, you’d wake up from this as if it were a nasty dream, finding yourself in your little cave near the surface of the ocean. Perhaps this was all but a nightmare made up by your anxious and paranoid mind from all the stories you’ve heard from your parents and the elders. You were tired after all, sleeping wouldn’t be so bad to regain all the energy you wasted, and you hoped - that if this was your reality - that König would take care of you for doing this to you, for enrapturing you with all his madness and devotion.

You still missed the sun, the warm rays when you laid beneath it, just over a rock, but it was a far memory, further than you were willing to confess. You’d already grown used to his overbearing presence, his lingering eyes and wandering limbs, keeping one wrapped around your waists, your wrist or on your back, you’d gotten used to ignoring him and his dark eyes, bleeding into your world like the blood that stained the waters when he caught a live fish to feed you.

He fit you in his schedule, a routine he practised on a daily basis without a fault. You would wake up with a wail, coming all over his tentacle at least twice before he left you alone for the morning. He would go hunting after making sure that you were comfortable on your little perch, returning an hour or two afterwards with enough food for the whole day and a few shiny trinkets to try to appease your sorrowful heart. They were pretty, shimmering and glinting under the bioluminescent light, similar to the pretty pearls and seashells you would collect. Despite his intentions, it only reminded you of a life long gone, one that you unknowingly and willingly gave up when you took his hand that fateful day, condemning you to a life of darkness and solitude.

Then he’d spend the day with you, caring for your round stomach, rubbing soothing circles on your aching body, gently working the kinks and knots out of you. He provided for you, feeding you, soothing your pains, courting you with gifts and loved you with the entirety of his sickened heart. Your every need was taken care of, your hunger fulfilled, be it shark meat (a rarity for your kind of mermaid), squid or tuna, and your excitement satisfied with his cock, fingers, tentacles or mouth, eager to stuff you full despite your womb being grossly swollen with his progeny. He was fiercely protective, letting you out once in your month-long gestation, giving you the freedom to wander close to the ridge with a long arm wrapped around your waist. He never let you wander too far from him and never without a piece of him attached to you, clinging onto you as if you two were a singular entity —you probably were at this point, his thoughts and words echoing in your mind against your reluctance to accept him.

“Mein kleiner Schatzi,” he called, laying his head on your shoulder, his hood hanging over you. He forced you on his lap, snuggling up to you as he curled - loomed - over you while he shamelessly let his hands rove over your swollen stomach, feeling the grooves and bumps of his eggs, “You are very round. One more month and we will have little Satansbraten.” [Mischievous child]

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @candlewitch-cryptic @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @0-ramen-0 @dreamdiaries777 @under-the-dirt @ajadell @danielle143 @bubbletae7 @mushroompasta @skystreamchan @kaelysia @notspiders @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @lilpothoscuttings @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi

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