#for a summer child i was very much not made for this

[grimestime27]

On Board

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: mostly fluff!!!

This was written on my phone don’t judge me ���

It was a hot summer day in Virginia. The group had decided to scavenge today for supplies for Alexandria. Life was better since you all had made it to Alexandria. There had been some hard times, but you all persevered and made it through.

Rick was now in charge after Deanna got bitten, succumbing to her injuries when the walkers attacked your safe haven. It took awhile to clean up the mess that was made but it was your all’s home. Life was finally feeling a little normal.

Some of your all’s group lived together. Rick, Michonne, Carl, Judith, Daryl, and you. In the other house was Abraham, Rosita, Eugene, Tara, and Sasha. Carol didn’t sleep much these days, her attitude changing from meek and quiet to strong and outspoken. Of course the lovebirds Maggie and Glenn stayed together.

Daryl, Rick, and Abraham were loading a vehicle, getting ready to go on a run. Michonne was joining them. You and Rosita would take turns going. You weren’t weak, but Rick had handed you Judith in the mean time to get your mind off things, trying to bring a little joy to your day.

Judith loved you. You watched her in your free time when there wasn’t scavenging or other work to be done. Rick insisted that you needed to watch her because she was very fond of you. It was a good feeling that your fearless leader trusted you with one of his most prized possessions, one of the people he was closest to.

“Hi Judith.”, you baby talked her, causing her to smile. “Whatcha doin’ sweet girl?”

You kissed the top of her head, holding her close. She rested her head on you, pacifier in her mouth. Michonne smiled at the sight, coming up beside you before she brushed her hand through Judith’s soft hair.

“Think you could get used to that?”

“This?”

Michonne nodded.

“Maybe.”

Daryl eyed you as he was loading up a vehicle. Truth be told, watching you with Judith was one of his many weaknesses. Hardly anything got to Daryl Dixon but this was one of those things. It almost made him want to have a child of his own with you. But he worried he wouldn’t be a good dad. His dad was shitty growing up. And his mom wasn’t much better. Merle and Daryl had a very hard upbringing.

“We just need to convince Daryl to get on board.”, Michonne smiled at Judith as you continued to hold her, shielding her from the sun.

“I don’t even know if I’m on board.”, you joked. “Even though Judith here does make it pretty convincing.”

Judith giggled lightly as you tickled her. It was beautiful to have a child around. She brought light back into your all’s lives. Even on the darkest days.

“Look Judith, it’s Uncle Daryl.”, you smirked at him as he came over to the both of you.

“Aw, what’s my pretty girl up t’?”, Daryl eyed her. “Want Uncle Daryl to hold ya?”

Judith reached out her small arms causing you to scoff playfully. “Really Daryl?”

“Sorry sweetheart. She’s made her choice.”

Daryl smirked. You rolled your eyes as Daryl took her out of your arms. Michonne watched for your reaction as Daryl interacted with Judith, causing her to smile and laugh. You couldn’t help but do the same, watching the man you love.

Daryl was hard and cold at first, but as you got to know him, that changed. He opened up to you and showed you the soft side of him you never knew was there under his hard exterior. Things changed, you lost people, and you all became closer.

So close that you all had began a relationship. This world was cold but he made it better. He was the first thing you woke up to and the last thing you kissed goodnight. As long as he was with you, the world would be tolerable. Things would be okay.

Michonne and Rick had began a romantic relationship, much to everyone’s surprise. Almost as surprising as when the group found out about you and Daryl. You watched Daryl bounce Judith, he was practically a natural. Rick and Michonne kissed, signaling their departure was near.

“Ready Daryl?”, Rick asked as Michonne climbed into the vehicle.

Daryl looked at Rick, this question bringing him out of his daze. “Yeah.”

Daryl came over to you, leaning over to kiss you with Judith still in his arms. The kiss was slow. You knew why Daryl did this but you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. He was afraid he wouldn’t come home. This could very well be your last kiss.

“I love ya, Y/N.”

“I love you, Daryl. Be safe, please.”

Daryl nodded. “D’ my best sweetheart.”

“Wrap it up Romeo.”, Abraham joked, laughing as Daryl glared back at him.

Daryl flipped him off, causing him to laugh even louder.

“Daryl,”, you scolded him softly. “Not in front of Judith.”

Daryl sighed, apologizing to Judith before kissing her on the head. She just smiled up at him.

“Alright pretty girl, time t’ go back to Aunt Y/N.”, Daryl moved closer, handing her off to you.

You all shared one more kiss and he told you he’d be home soon. Rick came over and kissed Judith goodbye, telling her the same thing. You helped her wave goodbye to her daddy and the rest of the group as Daryl took one last look at you before getting in the car. You watched the car pull out, stopping at the gates before someone unlocked it, a trail of dust following them.

Looking at Judith, you shifted your focus to her. “Just me and you Judith. Let’s go inside and take a nap.”

Carl stayed back to help keep Alexandria safe. He was in the house, grabbing some water. He greeted you with a hug and you told him you were going to try and put Judith down for a nap. You told him you’d make dinner in a few hours.

Being a typical teenage boy, he acknowledged you silently and left the house with his gun.

Hours passed and dusk began to set in as you tried to focus on anything other than Daryl and the group. A knock came to the door, throwing you off. Judith was playing in the floor with her toys. You quickly ran to open the door, finding Carol.

“Need some help with dinner?”

“That’d actually be great.”

Carol came in and began helping you make a casserole. She had became quite the cook since being at Alexandria. Once it was finished, you placed Judith in her high chair and called Carl to come eat. He had taken a huge interest in Enid, a teenage girl at Alexandria. Maybe love was in the air.

Once dinner was over, Carol helped you clean up. It was easy to get Judith to sleep after her bottle. She was out like a light.

“Well, I guess I’m going to be on my way. Need anything else Y/N?”

“I’m good Carol. Thank you.”

She waved it off, saying it was no problem. You sat in peaceful silence, feeling even better now that Carl was home. This was in stark contrast to being out on the road for so long. Tiredness was sitting in and before you had known it, you were fast asleep with Judith in your arms on the couch.

How many hours had passed? You weren’t sure.

“Sweetheart.”

You jumped easily, startling yourself out of your sleep and quickly opening your eyes to see Daryl standing above you.

“S’ alright, sweetheart. Just me.”

Judith barely stirred as you immediately relaxed your muscles.

“You scared me.”

“I know. ‘M sorry sweetheart.”

Daryl took in the sight of you sleepy and holding a sleeping Judith before he sat down beside you.

“Is everyone okay?”, you asked softly.

Daryl nodded. “All safe’n sound.”

“Thank God.”

“Want me to take Judith and put her to bed so we can lay down?”

“If you have to.”

Daryl chuckled softly. “You’re exhausted. What’d y’all do today?”

Gently, you let Daryl take Judith out of your arms. She barely moved, snuggling into Daryl’s chest.

“Napped, played, and made dinner.”

“Busy day.”

“What about you?”

“Killed some walkers, found lots of supplies. Just another day in paradise.” Daryl smirked, joking.

You nodded before he leaned in, kissing you.

“Can I ask ya somethin’?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

“Sure, what’s up?”

You were awake now, sitting up.

Daryl sighed, trying to muster up the courage to ask you. He was afraid of the answer but he needed to know. His perspective on life had changed lately. Maybe he could have a good life after all.

“I was wonderin’ “, he began, looking down at Judith before looking back up at you.

Your look begged him to continue.

“Would you ever want one of these?”, he motioned to Judith.

“A….baby?”, you question and he felt like he had fucked up.

“It’s silly, ain’t it? Nevermind.”, Daryl sighed, looking away.

You grabbed his chin softly, bringing his face to look up at you. “That’s not silly, Daryl.”

Daryl’s face relaxed. You ran your thumb over his stubble.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”, Daryl repeated, making sure he had heard you correctly.

“Yes.”, you confirmed.

“Sure, y’wanna a little Dixon runnin’ around?”

“I’d love nothing more.”, you whispered lightly before you and Daryl shared a kiss before Rick and Michonne walked in.

“Are we interrupting something?”, Rick laughed.

“Maybe we’re both on board.”

You knew Rick wouldn’t have any idea of what that meant but all Michonne could do was smile.

[i-havenothingelsetopost]

Can one of you supervillains pleeeeease build an evil weather machine and make it snow again. I'm asking so nicely

[seaweedstarshine]

RIP Krakoa 🌹 I can’t lie I’ve been kinda behind since midway through Fall of X I’m gonna catch up before my first SDCC this summer but I hear Vulcan didn’t see much action anyway. Anyway my hand slipped and I found myself looking into the eyes of my canonically psychotic son the best Summers brother who’s never done anything wrong in his entire life, (he’s done lotsa wrong things but I love him more for it)

[autism-disco]

sometimes i wonder why i am the way i am and then i remember that the penultimate track on the summer 2014 car cd was ben folds five boxing. and yeah no that adds up

[usagifuyusummer]

Is this what you meant @jjimene123, on the Timmy Turner and Pink Diamond parallels lmao?

Been thinking abt this quote from end of an era!! It makes me THINK

[bunny-jpeg]

i have this little thought bouncing around in my head! single father simon. (a drabble)

*shrug*

simon ends up with his daughter winnie after her mother abandons her at his doorstep. he was the father, it was his turn to take care of her. simon could handle warfare, he could handle guns and sweat and metal. he could handle blood and bruises.

but a fussy newborn was a little too much for him.

enter you, it was your summer off from university and you were making extra money by babysitting for parents who couldn't afford weeks of posh summer camps. it was decent work and you were pretty good with them! so being concerned for your neighbour, simon's well being, you offered to watch winnie.

simon very well fell in love with you the moment you took the baby girl into you arms. winnie instantly got settled into your grasp, almost like you were her mother.

"what a lovely baby girl." you cooed, you looked at her with such affection already. you looked at simon and smiled, "she looks too cute to be yours." a playful jab.

you watched winnie while simon was at work. you didn't know what he did for work, but you tried not to ask too many questions. all you knew was that the checks didn't bounce when you cashed them.

but being with winnie for so many days had gossip go through the apartment building. you had a baby with simon? why were you in two separate apartments? where did the lovely newborn sleep? she SHOULD be sleeping with her mother (you).

when you tried to correct them, simon always said, "ah don't worry. we'll be havin' our own place soon enough!" his large hand snaked around your waist.

you just looked down at winnie who was sound asleep in her stroller. she couldn't care less who her mommy and daddy were. it wouldn't be hard to be the mother she'd otherwise be without, right?

that was the angle that simon too.

you'd make the most perfect mrs. riley. you were already taking care of winnie, but also him when he came home. you shouldn't be the nanny, you should be winnie's mama.

"she really loves you." simon remarked when you went with him to the pool.

you were in a one piece swim suit and you were making sure that the baby was out of the sun and had sunscreen on. you didn't want her to get sick or burned.

currently she was resting on your chest while you were in the shade. in your free hand you had a book in it and the other was on winnie's back. you said, "i don't know what you're talking about." as if you hadn't heard the comments from the little old ladies about how sweet you two looked.

"look like a real mama."

you looked to him and raised your eyebrows, "i thought i was the babysitter, mister riley."

simon placed a hand on your thigh then rubbed up and down, "nah."

it didn't take long for you and simon to get intimate. he asked you to stay because winnie had been having trouble sleeping. you two shared a glass of wine and then you found yourself face first into simon's bed. the scent of him filled your head as he fucked you into the comfortable mattress.

he loved the sound of your pussy as he fucked you without much abandon. the thickness on your hips would only grow once he made sure his next child was inside of you. you'd be such a good mama, unlike that previous bitch who left him.

maybe there was a good reason why she left him.

cum clung to the fuzz on your pussy lips and was a bitch to clean in the shower come morning.

he woke you up and said, "she needs her mama. she gettin' fussy, doll." then watched you stumble around to find clothes to wear while you checked on winnie as if the little girl was your own. his hand was wrapped around his cock. he wondered how many more times he could finish in you before you stumbled back to your apartment.

the answer was four.

it wouldn't be easy carrying for a sprouting little baby plus the baby boy you were currently pregnant with. you've put school off for a little while and moved in with simon, your due date was in the middle of the semester. now you were trying to figure out what food was good for a teething winnie while also trying to manage the riley son that was occupying your womb.

you were making dinner for your growing family with a cute little maternity dress of. simon was at the table with winnie. he knew that one day he'd have to tell her that you weren't her actual mama. but you were raising her and her little brother too.

"see there's mama." simon said in that grumbled voice of his, pointing in your direction.

you didn't imagine that you would've ended up as a stay-at-home mother to two children who were than a year apart. but as you felt the shift of your 'second' baby inside of you, you smiled.

you heard winnie make a little noise to get your attention. you checked on the pot of sauce on the stove before you turned away to check on your little girl.

[classyrbf]

Hiii, i love your blog sosomuch. can i req like angst/comfort fic nanami? maybe nanami is like a bittttttt of an ass

ARE YOU STILL MINE! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...you feel as though your husband has become too distant from you and your marriage is hanging on by a thread

INFO...nanami x fem!reader, nanami is bit mean, mentions of cheating but no actual cheating, angst (obvi), reader is insecure with herself, mentions of divorce, comfort at the end, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thank you so much anon, I hope you enjoy your request!

At first it started out with him staying at work later than usual, coming home at strange times in the night where you had fallen asleep on the couch because you were waiting for him. He’d merely just glance at you, thinking you opted for the couch rather than the bed, walking into the room to go to bed instead of waking you. Then, he started talking less, being very distant, dry with his responses every time you’d brought up an interest of yours. He’d play with his food, moving it around on the plate like a picky child while humming responses. Then, you started not seeing him at all, every morning you opened your eyes he was gone and every night you couldn’t bear staying awake any longer than needed. And lastly, you began to feel alone, the house that you shared with your husband started to feel like you were now sharing it with a roommate. Was your marriage on the brink of divorce?

Another morning, another day of waking up to an empty bed. You rolled over, the sheet crinkled from where he slept but ultimately felt cold. It was a daily routine for you now, though you can’t grow accustomed to it no matter what you do. Its disappointing. Sad. All of your friends gush about their husbands bringing them gifts, going on vacation, and the cherry on top was soon one of your friends was having a baby. You sat there the whole time, staring off into the distance because you couldn’t remember the last time kento had even got you a gift, let alone uttered a word to you.

You stared at the diamond ring that adorned your finger, contemplating if this was at all really worth it anymore. Why stay in a marriage you weren’t happy in? But before making any rash decisions, you knew you needed to talk with him before anything. That’s if you even get the chance to. Lazily dragging your feet across the kitchen floor, you opened the fridge and realized he had left his lunchbox, leaving the food you made last night. You grabbed it, letting out a deep sigh. Should you even bring it? Yes, get out the house and get some fresh air. No, you’re just gonna waste your time and he won’t even eat it.

After fully waking up, you got dressed and grabbed his lunch box off of the counter. You walked past the mirror in the hall, keys in hand before you came to a complete stop to look at yourself. Jeans and a shirt with tacky sneakers that didn’t even match. And your eye bags just added onto it. God, you looked horrible. He wouldn’t want to see you like this. Especially not at his job.

With summer breeze, you were quick to change into a pretty sundress Nanami had gotten you last winter, along with some wedged heels to top off the look. And quickly, you ran to bathroom to apply makeup, nothing too heavy but just enough to make it look like you were at least taking care of yourself properly. You smeared the pink gloss along your lined lips, leaning towards the mirror to make sure you looked good. Still, you didn’t feel satisfied, but it’ll have to do.

You sat in the car for another minute, applying another coat of mascara before heading into the building. Nerves struck through your entire body, something similar to a first date. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, your own husband, that it now feels like seeing him for the first time. The thought made your frown as you stepped foot inside. You greeted the woman at the desk. “Hi, I’m here to drop my husbands lunch he forgot it at home. Nanami Kento.” You kindly smiled.

“Oh! You’re Mr. Nanami’s wife! Pleasure to meet you!” She bowed, smiling. “You’re free to head to his office.”

“Thank you!” Your heels click against the marble flooring, walking towards the elevator and pressing the button with a shaky hand. You wondered if he’d be surprised to see you, greet you with a kiss or a hug. You grew hopeful, imagining finally being in his embrace after so long. You smiled, stepping out of the elevator and headed down the hall towards his office.

On the other side of the door you could hear your husband laughing, talking with someone. But jealousy and insecurity buried a pit in your chest when you heard a woman laugh along with him. You barged into the office, taking site of the two sitting across the desk from one another. Your husbands eyes shot up towards you and the woman glanced over her shoulder with a confused look.

“Y/n?” He stood from his chair, walking over to you. “Sorry, this is my wife.” He awkwardly laughed, looking at the woman who was now standing.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Nanami.” She bowed, a small smile on her lips.

“H-hello.” You shakily replied, looking between her and your husband.

“What are you doing here?” He whispered, brows furrowed. From his tone, he sounded slightly annoyed, like you had interrupted something important.

“You forgot your lunch I thought—”

“I already had lunch. No need.” He easily dismissed you, shaking his head. “I’m having an important discussion right now, so I’ll see you at home.” He walked you out of his office, shutting the door behind you. No goodbye. No kiss. Not even a hug. I’ll see you at home. What a joke.

You sat in the bath, bubbles surrounding you and scented candles lit on the sink. The diamond ring on your finger glistened under the dim light as you stared at it, a sour taste forming in your mouth when you remembered earlier today. Who was that woman? Clearly she worked there, but she was so much younger, prettier, and she was making Nanami laugh. He was in such a rush to push you out, claiming he had eaten already. God, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was cheating. It’s the only thing that makes any sense. Forget the talk.

You’ve forgotten how long you’ve been sitting in here now, but you were surprised when you heard the front door open. Reaching for your phone, it was only five at night, pretty early for him to be home nowadays. You just soaked in the bath, hearing his footsteps grow closer and closer until he reached your bedroom. Nanami, noticed the bathroom light, walking in and seeing you in the tub. “Hey, honey.” It’s felt like years since he’s called you any type of pet name, or anything in general.

“I was just getting out. I’ll finish after you’ve done doing what you need to do.” You reach for your towel on the rack, before Nanami stops you.

“Woah, woah, can I not join you?” He chuckled, soothingly rubbing his hand up and down your arm.

“No. Not in the mood.” You snatched the towel, wrapping it around your body before stepping out the tub, blowing out the scented candle and grabbing your phone. “Enjoy your shower.”

“Honey, if this is about earlier today, I apologize. I was interviewing her for a position—”

“God, you really haven’t noticed it?” You were at your breaking point, on the verge of tears from all the hurt you’ve been holding in for the last few months.

“I’m sorry I don’t know—”

“I want a divorce.” The words came out of your mouth as smooth as silk, leaving him shocked.

“Wait, wait! Sweetheart, talk to me first please?” He almost sounded desperate, reaching for you as you walked away into the bedroom. He quickly followed behind you. “Say something.”

“These last few months have been hell! You come home late, leave early, I don’t even see my own husband anymore. We don’t even talk to or at least text each other. And then I walk in, seeing you laughing and talking with some woman and god, the worst comes to my head because my husband hasn’t been mine for last three months! We haven’t kissed, hugged, or even had sex in so long. And then I get all dressed up for you and you push me out of there like I’m a stranger and then you come home and act like everything is okay! I’m not okay!” You scream, tears pooling in your eyes. “I feel so alone. So jealous and insecure.” You sob, turning away from him because he doesn’t deserve your tears, he doesn’t deserve to see you so weak and broken.

“Honey, I am so fucking sorry. God, please look at me. Baby.” His soft voice makes you want to rebel against everything you’re standing for right now, wanting to turn to him and hug him and kiss him. You feel his soft hands on your shoulder. “I am so sorry for making you feel less than what you truly are.”

“Are you cheating on me?” You managed to ask through tears.

“What?!” He says shocked. “No, fuck, of course not!” He couldn’t believe his ears, turning you around on his own, pulling you to look at him. He’s not surprised you think he’s having an affair with the way he’s been acting lately. But the truth is, he’s been distant because of a surprise. “I could never cheat on you. It disgusts me to even think about it, darling.” He caresses your face gently, holding it in his hands.

“Then what is it? Do you not love me anymore?” You hiccup, staring at him with teary eyes.

“I’m madly in love with you! I know these past few months, I’ve been horrible at showing it, treating you like you’re nothing when you’re everything. If I knew this would have such a horrible effect on you, I would’ve told you sooner instead of wanting to surprise you.” He let out a heavy sigh of disappointment. Disappointment within himself for putting you in such a position.

“What? What surprise?” You looked at him confused, browns knitting together. He sat you on the edge of the bed, taking your hand in his as he kneeled in front you. “Kento…”

“I’ve been working so hard because I was planning our future. Saving up to move to Malaysia. I wanted it to be a surprise, but, I can’t keep seeing you like this. I’ve been working to save up more money, I’ve been searching for houses and talking to realtors on the phone. I’ve been exhausted, honey, but that’s no excuse for how I’ve been treating you like an afterthought.” He kissed your palm. “Please forgive me. I am so, so, sorry.” He kissed your hand again, resting his head on your lap. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what I’ll do if you leave me. Just hearing those words leave your mouth earlier scared the shit out of me. I can’t lose you. I love you so much.” He chokes back tears, holding you tightly.

You sit there shocked, completely and utterly shocked. While his actions were no excuse, you still can’t believe the reasoning behind it all. “Ken,” you mutter, running your fingers through his soft blonde hair. He kisses your hand once more, lifting his head to stare up at you.

“I’ll do anything if you just stay. I’ll do anything for you, sweetheart. I need you to know that.” Your heart pounds against your ribcage as he crawls up towards you, cupping your face. “I love you. I’m sorry. I’m so—mmph—sorry.” He kisses you between words, pressing his lips to yours. You haven’t felt his kisses in so long but it’s like they never left, feeling his firm grip on you as he kissed you so sweetly, each one filled with so much passion and desire.

“Baby, Ken, I forgive you. Okay?” You pull away. “Just…please, don’t ever do that to me again. I don’t care what it is, do not make me feel like I’m any less important. I can’t believe you’ve been working your ass off just so we could move to Malaysia, carrying the burden by yourself when you know I’m right here.” Your eyes search his.

“I understand. I’m sorry. I know I should’ve said something, I just…I don’t know. It’s doesn’t matter anymore, yeah? I’ve still got some extra work to do for the next two weeks until it’s settled, so don’t think I’m going back on my word. I swear I’m not.” He pecked your lips.

“Okay, I understand. Can I at least ask where in Malaysia?” You smiled, holding his hand.

“That, I am keeping a surprise.” He shook his head. “I just can’t wait to see the look on your beautiful face when you see it.” He quickly scooped you up in his arms, walking into the bathroom. “Shower with me? It’s been so long since we’ve—”

“Of course. I’ve missed you so much, Ken.”

His eyes glistened as he stared at you, smiling like an idiot in love. “You looked beautiful earlier today. I noticed you were wearing the sundress I had bought you. I can confidently say that it hugs you in the all right places. If there were no one in my office, I would have taken you right then and there, sweetheart.”

“Ken!” You shout in surprise, covering your mouth as you stifled back a laugh. “Please just get undressed so we can shower!”

“It’s good to see a smile back on your face.”

[jeonginsleftcheek]

By The Pool

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: smut, strangers to ???

wc: 2.5k

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, pinch of degradation, reader is called 'slut' once, cum tasting, creampie

a/n: since i found out he has a lifeguard license on skz code i needed to write this🫠

masterlist

You thought it was going to be another boring month at the resort.

It was a place you knew very well ever since you were a child, your parents always took you there, every summer was the same.

Even now, when you were a student and no longer living with them, you couldn't escape the three weeks they wanted to spend there with you and your brother as a family.

But, there was nothing boring about the eye candy you noticed by the pool.

Every year, there was a new lifeguard on duty and though they were all fit men and women, no one captured your attention like he did.

There was something about him and you made it your mission to seduce him, wanting to have some fun and spice up your summer.

Quickly, you asked around since you knew the staff well, finding out his name is Hyunjin, he's your age and here on a student job, and most importantly single (though you have no idea how no one has snatched him up yet).

You came to the pool every day, happy that you bought some cute swimsuits that revealed more than they covered.

You made sure to be right in his view as you put on sunscreen, slowly spreading the thick liquid all over your body.

You saw him staring and gulping, before averting his eyes and acting unaffected but the tips of his ears matched the red color of his swim trunks.

Of course, you amped it all up with bending over as you spread your towel over the deck chair, showing Hyunjin your cleavage.

Giggling to yourself when you saw his eyes twitch as he adjusted in his lifeguard chair, you lay down with your sunglasses on so you can feast your eyes on him the whole time.

Hyunjin did his duty well and you watched him like a hawk, any time he had to jump in, he would toss his shirt off and you loved to admire his muscles.

He was made to be in water, looked so natural as he swam and he did his job perfectly, making it obvious why he was hired.

By the fifth day, you got fed up with exchanging looks and nothing else so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

If he wasn't gonna approach you, you were gonna do it yourself.

It was a nice sunny Friday, not that you really cared what day it was since you were on vacation, the day was only important because you planned on having Hyunjin all to yourself today.

As per usual, you watched him work and he stole glances at you as much as he could.

After some kid was making a mess in the water and Hyunjin had to jump in to stop them, you watched his wet body, the clear droplets of water running down his back and shoulders as his muscles flexed.

The summer heat was nothing compared to the heat erupting inside you.

You waited patiently for another hour before his shift ended.

The other lifeguard then came to take his shift and you saw him and Hyunjin talking, which was your cue to stand up and run to the pool house where lifeguards usually leave their things and change.

You made sure no one was there and waited for Hyunjin to make his way to you.

You heard footsteps and with bathed breath you hid behind the wall like some stalker and almost laughed at yourself for doing so much for just some dick.

But it wasn't any dick.

You've never wanted anyone as much as you wanted Hyunjin.

Ever since you set your eyes on him, you couldn't stop fantasizing about him, every night when you touched yourself you imagined different scenarios and they all included Hyunjin.

You peeked and saw him get in and then you waited a few moments before knocking on the door and coming in just as he called out.

He probably thought it was one of the staff members, judging by the shocked look on his face when he turned around and saw you.

You giggled, as he gave you the elevator eyes, you were wearing your skimpiest bathing suit yet.

He quickly looked up as you cleared your throat, struggling not to look down at your breasts again.

"D-did you need something?" he stutters, clutching the towel in his hand.

Oh he is simply adorable, you just wanna devour him whole.

"Yes, you." you answer without even blinking and his face becomes red.

"Excuse me?" he swallows, his adam's apple bobbing up and down deliciously.

You chuckle and make your way towards him slowly and he takes one step back, colliding with the table behind him.

He quickly looks back at it, and you find the way he put his hair up in a little ponytail so endearing.

"I think you're hot." you state, standing in front of him now and his lips open and close a few times before he laughs awkwardly.

"Thanks. I- um think you're hot too." he says rather shyly, driving you even more crazy to taste him.

Your hand lands on his arm and you squeeze a little, before slowly dragging it up and down.

"Then, there's nothing else to discuss, is there?" you smirk and lean in, so close to his lips that you feel the shaky breath he lets out on your face.

"I- I- someone could walk in." he whispers and you chuckle.

"I don't care." you're quick to cup his face and crash your lips into his.

A surprised exclaim from Hyunjin gets muffled as you start kissing him and his eyes go from wide to fluttering closed as he returns your kiss eagerly.

Yes, he saw you by the pool every day and he knew what you were doing.

He wanted you just the same as you wanted him but he enjoyed watching you struggle and try hard to get his attention even though you already had it.

He smirked to himself as your bathing attire became more revealing every day and he knew you were slowly losing patience.

Hyunjin wanted you to hunt him down and now that you were here, he decided to reciprocate and show you how much he's been wanting you too.

As the kiss deepens, Hyunjin's tongue swiping over yours and tasting you, his hands slide to your waist and he squeezes before gripping you and swiftly moving the two of you until you were pressed into the wall.

You gasp as he leans back to look at you, a sly smirk on his face.

"You were tempting me on purpose, weren't you princess?" he said in a sultry voice, his hand caressing your cheek, fingertips sliding down to your neck to touch your sensitive spot.

"Was I that obvious?" you tease, letting your hands finally roam free on his hot shoulders, arms and chest.

"Mhm. Waving those tits in my face constantly. Wiggling your ass. What if some poor soul drowned because of your distractions, hm?"

"That wouldn't happen, you're too good at your job." you smirk and he chuckles.

"Sweet talking me won't get you out of this. You're gonna get exactly what you wanted, princess." Hyunjin smirks.

Before you could even realize what's happening, he grabs the strings of your bottoms and swiftly undoes them, letting it fall down and reveal your wet cunt to him.

You gasp, your heart beating hard in your chest in thrill as he hoists your leg up and you hook it around him.

"Is this what you imagined, hm?" he asks with the same smirk as he runs his fingertips on your wet folds, pressing them into your clit every time he comes up.

"Y-yes." you moan, chasing his touch as you rub against his hand and he chuckles, his other hand gripping your breast harshly.

You slide your hands back and undo the strings on the top part of your bikini and Hyunjin helps you with the strings around your neck, the item falling down on the floor as you keep staring into his eyes.

Hyunjin hovers over you, leaning in to kiss you passionately, his lips are so soft but desperate against yours, his tongue is wild like he is trying to remember the way you taste forever as his teeth nip into your bottom lip.

You moan when he starts pinching your nipples and playing with your tits, his fingers pressed into your sensitive clit, massaging it in circles.

You're going crazy as his lips lower to kiss your neck and you can't help grinding against his hand, your wetness spreading all over his fingers as Hyunjin bites into your skin, squeezing and fondling your breast.

"You want my fingers, princess?" he says into your neck before licking a stripe over the bite mark he left on your flesh.

"Yes." you whimper, gripping at his arm.

"Beg." he leans back to look at you and you want to slap him but you know you're too far gone to be snappy.

"Please, fuck me with your fingers." you bat your eyelashes at him and he smirks again, pushing his fingers into you immediately.

"Ah!" you moan as you take him in easily and he lets out a low chuckle.

"You're such a desperate slut. Letting some stranger finger you in a pool house." he laughs, fucking you semi-fast immediately and you moan loudly, meeting his thrusts and not giving a single fuck about someone hearing you.

"So good that you can't even speak?" he fucks into your sweet spot, his thumb pressing into your clit as he presses you against the cold wall, a contrast to your heated body.

"H-Hyunjin." you moan and he chuckles, of course you know his name.

"Say my name louder." he looks at you with a cocky smile and you stutter for a moment as he fucks you harder and faster.

Your legs shake and you hold onto him as he keeps scissoring you open for him, nothing coming out of your lips except his name.

"Cum on my fingers, princess." Hyunjin whispers in your ear as your nails dig into his shoulders, your whole body shaking against him as he keeps plunging into you, the squelching sounds of your arousal filling up the room.

"Ah! Hyunjin!" you whimper loudly as you squirt all over his hand, grinding against him to ride your high as he observes you.

"Taste." he pulls his fingers out, leaving you empty as he brings them to your trembling lips.

You wrap them around his digits instantly, sucking on them and licking them clean as he keeps eye contact.

As soon as he pulls his fingers out, his lips are on yours again, kissing you hungrily as he grabs your other leg, effectively lifting you up and making you squeal as he leads you to the couch.

You're thrown down on it, albeit gently before he quickly takes his swim trunks off and your mouth waters at the sight of his dick.

He is perfect everywhere, you think as your eyes roam all over his sexy body.

Hyunjin is quick to kneel between your legs with a smirk playing on his lips.

"I don't have any condoms." he chuckles at the reality of the situation.

Even though he knew you were trying to seduce him every day, it's not like he thought you were actually going to come in after him today and kiss him so he wasn't prepared.

"I'm clean. Please." you whine, your legs wrapping around him and bringing him closer.

Hyunjin chuckles again, he can't believe you are so desperate to have him.

"Okay, princess. You think you can take it?" he gives you another smirk, sliding the head of his hard cock on your soaked folds.

You whimper as you look at his length and nod quickly.

"Yes, I can take it." you're almost breathless and Hyunjin pushes in, making you moan at the feeling.

His fingers couldn't prepare you completely for his cock but the stretch is delicious and your pussy welcomes him eagerly.

"Shit, you feel so good!" Hyunjin whines as he bottoms out, pushing his entire length inside you and filling you up perfectly.

He leans down as his arms cage you, kissing you sloppily before he leans back and starts fucking you at a steady pace, making your orgasm build up already.

You gasp and moan, spreading your legs more as you take him, the sound of skin slapping against skin making you feel even hotter.

You've never been this wet, your pussy pulsating in arousal as you moan loudly, your body shaking and feeling like you're going to explode any second.

Hyunjin looks down at you darkly, low moans escaping his lips as he keeps trying to bury himself deeper inside your warmth, so close to losing control over himself as your pussy constantly clenches around him, gripping his hard cock.

Hyunjin grabs your breast and your thigh, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder as you whine loudly, the new angle making you feel like he's fucking his cock even deeper inside you and his eyes roll back as he fucks into you harder.

You're so loud that if someone passes by they can 100% hear you moan Hyunjin's name as you grab his ponytail and pull on it while you cum all around his throbbing cock.

"Fuck!" Hyunjin almost growls as his hips stutter, fucking you with even more fervor as he chases his high, his hand leaving bruises in the soft skin of your thigh.

"Gonna cum." he whines, wanting to pull out but you grip at him.

"Cum inside me, I want it so bad." you groan, your eyes filling up with tears of pleasure as the head of his cock keeps brushing against your cervix.

"Fuck, you're so dirty, princess." Hyunjin pants, the sight of him all sweaty and flushed above you takes you over the edge and you cum again, clenching hard around him, his name slipping off your lips once again.

His eyes widen as his cock twitches and he unexpectedly cums hard inside you, spurts of the hot liquid painting your insides and filling you up.

Hyunjin collapses on top of you as he feels you still clenching around his now soft member.

It's quiet for some time and just then you realize that you can hear all the sounds from the pool and some people walking and talking next to the pool house, making you realize that everyone probably heard you fucking.

Hyunjin lifts up to look at you and something tugs at your heart, making your stomach fill up with butterflies.

"What's your name?" he asks and you burst out laughing, realizing you never even introduced yourself properly.

"Y/n." you answer and he smiles.

"Y/n. Pretty name for a pretty girl." Hyunjin leans in to kiss you, his cock slipping out of you and you feel the trickle of his cum seeping out of your pussy.

"Are you free tonight?" he asks, his lips traveling on your cheeks, you jaw and your neck, making you shiver as you caress his upper back.

"Depends what you're offering." you smirk and he looks at you.

"Dinner, movies, a walk on the beach?" he asks and you giggle.

"With a happy ending, of course." you say.

"As many happy endings as you want, princess." Hyunjin chuckles.

"Then I'm free." you say and he smiles before kissing you again.

This is going to be a fun summer.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @laughatdanger @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun

[lizzyiii]

Hey girl hey. Hope you are still alive and life is treating you well. Just checking in.

you're so sweet for this omg. so ive graduated from high school, have this whole summer, but I can't really enjoy it since a broke girl's got to work. got my very first job and it's sooo draining, but I've got to get that bag

Sevenmas

pairing | aemond x wife!reader

word count | 9.2k words

summary | amid the haunting ruins of harrenhal, aemond's pregnant wife senses the looming threat of alys rivers, a witch whose presence fuels her nightmares and aemond's growing distance.

determined to protect her husband and unborn child, she delves into the secrets of warding magic, reclaiming her bond with aemond as she invites him back into her bed and vows to stand against the witch’s dark influence.

tags | 18+ (MDNI), smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pregnancy, magic, fluff, soft aemond, hubby aemond

a/n | it's summer, the heat is evident, yet I've only been at work or home. I needdd to leave my house!

likes comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

My Dearest Babe,

It has been a full moon since your father and I arrived at these dreary halls of Harrenhal. It is bleak here, cold and damp, and the walls seem to hold the whispers of the dead.

I have not known a single night’s rest since we set foot in this cursed place. My sleep grew all the more restless when your father saw fit to move me into a separate chamber.

Harrenhal weighs heavily upon him. It has changed him in ways I cannot yet understand. He walks the halls as if hunted, and I see the shadows of his unrest in his eyes.

Each night, his dreams twist into dark things—visions that wrench him from sleep, leaving him gasping as though clawing his way back to wakefulness. He grows ever more volatile, as if the very stones of Harrenhal press upon his mind, threatening to drive him to madness.

One night, he woke from a nightmare so violent, I feared for him. I reached out to calm him, but he struck out, not knowing it was I. I do not hold it against him—he was deep within whatever horror plagued him.

But he looked upon the bruise on my wrist with such anguish, fearing for my health and yours. It was then he resolved to put me in another room, to shield us both from his torments.

Yet, my sleep has only worsened since he made this change. This keep holds no comfort, only shadows and sighs, and I feel that something - someone - wicked watches us, waiting.

The sixth day of Sevenmas dawned in Harrenhal, a day to honor the Crone, she who carried the lantern of wisdom and foresight. How you longed for that guidance now, caught in the maze of cold stone walls and shadows that seemed to stretch into eternity.

The ancient keep, with its crumbling towers and halls seeped in ghosts of past horrors, gnawed at your spirit with every passing hour.

The days bled together, each as gray and listless as the last. Time itself felt suspended, and there was little to fill it but your prayers to the Seven and the slow, meticulous pull of thread and needle.

Embroidery was meant to calm the mind, but here it became another way for your thoughts to spiral into dark corners. How could you not let them when the halls echoed with whispers not your own and the air felt thick, laden with something unseen yet suffocating?

Your husband, Aemond, the prince with a fire in his blood and the shadow of the conqueror in his step, had become a stranger cloaked in duty.

Since Rhaenyra had laid siege to King's Landing, his days were consumed with strategy, flame-bright eyes scanning maps and murmuring with commanders until dawn kissed the horizon.

You would catch glimpses of him, his presence fierce and distant, a sword poised to strike. And still, there was one tether left—he would always return to break his fast with you, no matter the hour, as if the morning meal was a sacred pact he refused to break.

This shared ritual was a brief light in the gloom, a moment where his brow would smooth, and he would offer a small nod, as if to say, I am still here.

Yet even then, the weight of Harrenhal seemed to press upon him, creasing the corner of his eye and stealing the little warmth from his voice.

You wished for the strength of the Crone’s wisdom, to find words that could soothe whatever haunted him, whatever pulled him into those long, silent stretches where he barely met your gaze.

And so, with the sun’s first pale rays stretching over the stone battlements, you whispered a prayer to the Crone. Let me see what he cannot. Let me guard us in ways unseen.

There was another shadow cast over your time at Harrenhal, one that gnawed at your peace like a hound at a bone. Within the first week of your arrival, an attempt on Aemond’s life had been made, a sloppy affair that left more questions than answers.

Yet the mere notion of betrayal and blood sharpened Aemond’s already fierce nature into something perilously close to madness.

In his rage and paranoia, he swept through Harrenhal like a storm, burning and executing every male Strong—lords and bastards alike, sparing none.

The aftermath left the keep haunted by its own silence, populated mostly by women and children who dared not cross his path. Yet among the survivors, there was one who set your skin crawling like no other: Alys Rivers, the bastard daughter of Lionel Strong.

Her gaze, dark and knowing, seemed to pierce through you whenever it drifted your way. The keep’s old women, those who lingered in the kitchens and halls, were full of whispers, speaking in hushed tones about Alys and the tales that clung to her like a shroud.

They claimed she was a wet nurse with no babes of her own, that her cradle stayed empty because she offered her children to dark gods, drawing power from their sacrifices.

The word witch passed between toothless mouths with reverence and fear, a name that conjured images of blood and whispered spells in the dead of night.

You would catch Alys watching Aemond from the shadowed corners of the great hall, her green eyes glistening like the polished scales of a serpent.

There was something about the way she looked at him, a gaze that lingered too long, with a subtle curl to her lips that suggested she saw beyond what others did. Each time, a cold knot formed in your stomach, winding tighter with each day.

Aemond, for his part, seemed oblivious—or perhaps unwilling—to acknowledge her attention. He stalked the halls of Harrenhal like a restless dragon, his eyes always aflame with thoughts of war and vengeance.

But you, kept to the fringes and left with little to occupy your time, had learned to listen. You had overheard more than once the old wives’ tales, how the stones of Harrenhal bore witness to strange sights in the dark of night.

The morning light struggled to filter through the narrow, soot-streaked windows of Harrenhal’s great hall, casting long, somber shadows across the cold stone floor.

You sat at the grand table, an expanse of dark oak that seemed almost too vast with just the two of you seated at its head.

The hall’s emptiness swallowed the small noises of clinking silver and the rustle of fabric, leaving only the low crackle of a distant fire to break the silence.

You glanced at Aemond, his face severe and sharp as ever, eyes narrowed and distant as he picked at the bread before him. His hair, pale as moonlight, spilled over his shoulders, catching the dim glow of morning like polished silver.

You traced the line of his jaw with your gaze, noting the tautness there, the slight twitch that spoke of restless thoughts.

In truth, you did not know this man well—your husband, your prince, and yet a stranger in so many ways.

It had only been moons since you first met, and within days, the marriage vows were spoken, the ink on the alliance barely dry before you found yourself bound to him in name and in fate.

Your father’s fleet had been your dowry, a formidable power that the Greens could not afford to spurn. You understood your role, the politics and power that tethered you to Aemond, but understanding him was another matter entirely.

His silences were as deep and dark as the Blackwater, and he carried an anger that smoldered beneath his skin, an unquenchable flame that whispered of vengeance and old wounds.

But despite the cold armor of his demeanor, Aemond had never raised his voice nor his hand to you. He moved with a kind of carefulness in your presence, a restraint that bordered on gentleness.

He treated you with a respect that was rare among men of power, where wives were often little more than pawns on a board.

And though it was likely due to the child you carried beneath your heart, it kindled a small warmth within you to think that he had not left you behind when he marched to Harrenhal.

Instead, he had commanded that you come with him, a choice that puzzled you even as it comforted you.

Harrenhal was a desolate place, steeped in old, cracked stone and a history that groaned beneath every step. You despised it, with its drafty halls and the air that always seemed to taste of ashes.

Yet sitting here, across from Aemond as the thin light etched sharp lines across his face, you felt a reluctant flicker of gratitude.

The silence between you was not companionable, but it was not cruel either. It was a space where the two of you existed, tethered by duty and an unspoken understanding.

Your gaze lifted from your untouched plate to meet his. “You barely ate anything,” you ventured softly, the words almost swallowed by the great hall’s vastness.

Aemond’s eye flickered to you, just a moment of acknowledgment, before drifting back to the distant, unfocused point beyond the hall’s great hearth. “I have much on my mind,” he replied, his voice low and guarded, as always.

You lowered your gaze, the golden glint of your cup catching the flicker of the fire as you turned it in your hands. “Today is the day of the Crone,” you murmured, the soft words drifting into the vast emptiness of the hall.

Aemond’s eye settled on you again, this time with a sharper intensity, as if he were trying to read the thoughts that played behind your eyes. The violet of his gaze, stark and unyielding, seemed to see through flesh and bone.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks but pushed on, lifting your head with a tentative, almost sheepish smile.

“I have been holding small celebratory suppers in my chambers for each of the Seven,” you said, the words trembling on the cusp of hope. “Perhaps you would join me tonight?”

Aemond’s expression remained inscrutable, carved from the same marble as the gods whose names you spoke. He was silent, his lips pressed into a thin line as he measured the request. You held your breath, bracing for the sting of rejection, but after a moment, he inclined his head with a slow, deliberate nod.

“I shall see if I am free to attend later, wife,” he replied, each syllable precise, as if spoken under a watchful eye.

A smile unfurled across your face, a small, fragile bloom that brightened the somber air. You nodded, your gratitude silent but deeply felt, and returned your attention to the meal before you.

The hall fell back into its familiar hush, but the silence seemed gentler, softened by the promise—no matter how uncertain—that he might sit with you as the evening drew near.

Throughout the day, you moved with a purpose that had been absent for some time. Excitement flickered within you, casting a rare warmth over the bleakness of Harrenhal’s cold stone walls.

You spent more time preparing yourself than you had in weeks, choosing a gown of deep violet, the color rich and regal, one you knew would match Aemond’s eye.

Your hands worked carefully as you braided your hair, fingers weaving strands with practiced precision. You wound the braids into a half-up style, securing them with thin silver pins, and threaded small pearls between the coils, their soft luster catching the waning light that seeped through the chamber’s narrow window slits.

As the sun dipped lower, you prepared the chamber for supper, eager to cast away the dreariness of Harrenhal’s stone embrace. The table, though small, was set with care.

You placed a modest arrangement of primroses at its center, their pale petals lending a touch of softness to the somber room.

Candles, thick and tapered, were placed with a meticulous eye, their wicks waiting to be lit and offer a warm glow that would banish the shadows lurking in the corners.

Tonight was meant to honor the Crone, a day of wisdom and reflection, yet you could not help but hope for something more—a chance to share a moment, however fleeting, with the man you called husband.

The hours had been long since you’d known any touch of intimacy, any whisper of companionship. The prospect of Aemond joining you, even for a brief supper, was enough to make your heart beat with anticipation.

Time stretched on, heavy and unyielding, as you sat alone at the small table in your chambers, a solitary figure in a room filled with muted light. The food before you, once steaming and fragrant, had grown cold, the sheen of oil on the meats congealing in the chill air.

The candles you had lit earlier had burned down to stubs, their light dwindling as shadows crept up the walls.

The fire in the hearth, once crackling with warmth, had reduced itself to a bed of glowing embers, the last vestiges of heat sputtering as they surrendered to the draft that snaked through the stones.

Your heart, which had quickened with hope earlier in the day, now felt leaden with disappointment. The silence pressed in around you, each passing moment a reminder that Aemond would not come. The anticipation that had kept your spirits aloft now left a hollow ache in its absence.

Pushing your untouched plate away, you rose from the table, your movements deliberate as anger stirred in your chest. It was not the hot, reckless kind, but the slow-burning indignation that came when expectation was met with silence.

You wrapped your cloak around your shoulders and slipped into the dim corridor, determined to find him, to seek an answer rather than stew in this quiet, stinging rejection.

Harrenhal’s halls were a maze of stone and shadow, empty and vast, with only the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the cold. The castle held a thousand whispered secrets, and tonight, it seemed eager to keep its prince among them.

You turned corners and climbed staircases, the flicker of dying torches casting your shadow long against the walls, until the familiar paths grew strange and your resolve wavered.

Finally, as you entered a lesser hall that stretched toward a wing of old chambers, you spotted movement—a maidservant carrying linens, her head bent as if afraid to be seen. Relief mixed with frustration as you quickened your step.

“Excuse me,” you called out, your voice sharper than intended.

The servant started, nearly dropping her burden before bowing her head hastily, eyes fixed to the floor. It was a common sight in Harrenhal, the way they kept their gaze averted in your presence.

Word of your husband’s fierce reputation as Prince Regent and Kinslayer had traveled swiftly, and it seemed they feared that to slight you was to invite his wrath upon them.

With a lifted chin and a tone that brooked no disobedience, you asked, “Where is my husband?”

Before the maid could stammer out an answer, another voice cut through the dim hallway—a voice that chilled the blood in your veins and haunted your sleep with its whispers.

“I fear the prince is still occupied in the council chamber, my lady,” said Alys Rivers, her tone smooth and deceptively courteous, like the edge of a blade.

You turned slowly, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were dark, unreadable, but a knowing smirk pulled at her lips as she regarded you, taking in the sight of your tense shoulders, the protective way your hand drifted instinctively to your rounded stomach.

There was no warmth in her expression, only the sly amusement of a cat toying with a bird that dared to stray too far from its nest.

Your nostrils flared, and you straightened your back, eyes narrowing as you corrected her in a low, simmering murmur, “Princess.”

Alys tilted her head, feigning surprise, though her eyes betrayed nothing but a cold mirth. “Pardon me,” she said, her gaze sliding deliberately to your abdomen before flicking back up to meet yours, daring you to react.

“I am not your lady,” you hissed, “I am your princess.”

With a final, steely glare, you turned on your heel, the folds of your violet gown sweeping the floor as you made your way back through the shadowed hallways, heart pounding beneath your ribs.

The silence of Harrenhal enveloped you once more, and you did not pause until you reached the safety of your chambers, locking the door behind you and pressing your back against the cool, unyielding wood.

The echo of Alys’s smirk lingered in your mind, but you would not let her see your fear. Not tonight. Not ever.

A scream ripped from your throat, raw and primal, as the pain surged through you, tearing its way up your spine and scattering your senses. It felt as though your very body was being split apart, the agony sharper and deeper than any blade.

“Keep pushing, my princess; the babe is almost here,” urged the midwife, her voice steady but relentless.

You clenched your jaw, wanting to curse her, to scream at her to hold her tongue, but the pain stole all words from you, leaving you breathless and shaking.

It was a torment that came in relentless waves, each cresting higher than the last, only to drag you under when you thought you could surface for air. The burning, the stretching—unbearable, blinding.

“I cannot,” you sobbed, tears mingling with the sweat that drenched your brow. “Please… I can't,” you pleaded, your voice broken and desperate.

The pain surged again, stealing the air from your lungs, and then you felt it—a firm, familiar hand pressed gently to your cheek. Through the haze of pain, you turned your head, and your vision cleared just enough to see the sharp lines of Aemond’s face.

His single violet eye was intent, fierce, a rare expression of vulnerability breaking through his stoic mask. Relief, so profound it was nearly painful, swelled in your chest.

“Aemond,” you gasped, his name a lifeline, an anchor in the storm.

Husbands were not meant to be present for the birth, tradition forbade it. But he was there, and you did not care for any rule or rite that would keep him away.

“Just a few more pushes, my love,” he murmured, his voice low, a thread of steel woven through the gentleness.

You nodded weakly, mustering what remained of your strength. A deep groan escaped you as you pushed once more, the room spinning around you. The midwife’s voice rose above the roaring in your ears.

“The babe is crowning, my lady.”

But the tone was wrong. Too familiar, too cold. Alarm jolted you to consciousness, and you struggled to prop yourself on trembling elbows. Your eyes darted to the space at the foot of the birthing bed, and dread coiled tight in your gut.

There, in the dim light of the chamber, knelt Alys Rivers. Her dark hair framed eyes as green and sharp as glass, eyes that glimmered with a knowing, malevolent gleam. A smile curled at the corners of her lips as she met your gaze.

“No, no!” you screamed, panic twisting your voice. “Get away from me!”

With a surge of fear-driven strength, you tried to kick her away, your limbs thrashing wildly, but Aemond’s hands clamped down on you, firm and unyielding. “Calm yourself,” he commanded, his voice cool, steady as stone.

Alys turned her gaze up to him, a shadow of mock sympathy curving her lips. “You must choose, my prince,” she intoned, each word dripping with false solemnity. “The babe, or your wife.”

A sob wrenched from your chest as you felt your breath come in sharp, shallow gasps. “No. No!” The pain was drowned beneath the torrent of fear that flooded you.

Desperately, you looked up at Aemond, seeking the warmth, the fierce protection that once resided in his eye. But what you found was a gaze distant and unreadable, as though he stood apart, watching from some cold, unreachable place. His jaw tightened. “Save the babe.”

Time seemed to fracture around you. His words, so final, crashed over you like a wave of ice. Your eyes widened, disbelieving, as rough handmaids or shadows, you could not tell—pressed you back, holding you firm as you struggled.

“Let me go! Let me go!” you screamed, your voice raw with betrayal and terror, limbs straining against the iron grip that pinned you.

Pain cleaved through you, and you felt the weight of the babe shift within. But your focus broke as Alys moved, no longer at the foot of the bed but gliding closer, the flicker of torchlight catching on the edge of a cruel, glinting blade.

The chamber seemed to darken around her, the faint cries of the midwives fading into an ominous silence. And all you could see were those green eyes, bearing down on you like a curse whispered in the dark.

You jolted upright, heart pounding and breath ragged, the remnants of your nightmare clinging to your skin like a shroud. A trembling hand reached up to brush the tears from your cheeks, the dampness proof of the terror that had gripped you in sleep.

Your eyes drifted down, catching the soft curve of your swollen belly under the covers, rising and falling with your shallow breaths. A shaky sigh escaped your lips, a bitter mix of relief and unease.

The babe was still safe within you—at least for now. You pressed your palm over it, as if to reassure yourself of its presence.

Beyond the thin light filtering through the shuttered window, the sky remained cloaked in the indigo of night.

The stillness told you it was not yet dawn, that liminal time when dreams and waking often blurred. But sleep would not find you again; not after that vision, nor for many nights to come, you were sure.

The memory of Aemond's cold, detached gaze as he spoke words that sealed your fate in your dream clung to you. It pierced deeper than any blade, a wound festering with fear and doubt.

Yet you forced yourself to swallow the sharp sting of betrayal, directing your thoughts toward another source of your unease—Alys Rivers.

The whispers, the eyes that followed, the dark air that seemed to shift when she was near. Your fears, your husband’s torment, the sense of something wicked gnawing at Harrenhal’s bones—it all traced back to her.

Resolve steeled your spine. You pushed back the covers and rose, the weight of your pregnancy making the motion slower, more deliberate.

Wrapping yourself in a heavy fur cloak, you reached for the candelabra on the nightstand. Its small flame sputtered in protest before catching steady, casting long shadows that danced upon the walls.

The corridors of Harrenhal, once alive with whispered conversations and the hurried footfalls of servants, now loomed around you in cold, watchful silence. The draft that crept through the ancient stones nipped at your cheeks and sent a shiver down your spine.

Clutching the fur tighter against your body, you moved forward, the warm light in your grasp flickering as it met the draft.

The silence was thick, broken only by the soft rustle of your cloak and the creak of old floorboards beneath your weight.

At last, you reached the great doors of the library, their dark wood carved with sigils long forgotten and gnarled from centuries of use. Setting the candelabra down, you pushed against one of the doors, muscles straining with the effort.

It groaned open, the sound reverberating through the stillness and sending a cold gust rushing past you. Picking up the candelabra, you stepped inside and let the heavy door drift shut behind you with a thud.

The scent of old parchment and dust surrounded you, familiar and oddly comforting. Shelves stretched high, towering sentinels filled with the stories of old and the wisdom of those long gone.

On other nights, you would have lost yourself in the tales that wove through these tomes—myths and sagas that spoke of courage and triumph. But tonight, solace was not what you sought.

You moved through the rows with purpose, eyes scanning the spines until they found those few volumes that hinted at the arcane.

The lore of witches, their dark arts, the means by which they could twist men’s dreams and cloud their minds—it all lay within reach, hidden among dusty pages that no one dared speak of.

You placed the candelabra down, its light casting a golden glow that flickered across the cracked leather and faded titles.

With trembling hands, you opened the first book, its binding stiff with age. The parchment crackled as you turned the pages, your eyes drinking in the inked words.

If there was any way to guard yourself, to protect Aemond from the shadows that had seeped into your lives, you would find it here. No longer would you be haunted by that witch’s knowing gaze or the dread that coiled tight in your belly.

With each turn of the page, the flickering glow of the candelabra cast dancing shapes upon the stone walls, warding off the chill that seeped through Harrenhal’s blackened stones.

The words spoke of charms and tokens, of age-old rituals whispered by the smallfolk who feared the unseen.

Marking doors with protective sigils or crosses to ward off malevolent forces. The purifying strength of salt, said to bar dark spirits and their ilk. Rowan wood, revered for its protective properties, best used when tied with crimson thread to seal its potency.

The hours crept by, measured by the slow guttering of candle wax. You read, forgetting the passage of time as the nightmare’s claws loosened their grip on your heart.

Knowledge was your weapon now, and you wielded it with the silent promise that neither you nor Aemond would fall victim to powers unknown.

The day’s first light spilled through the high, narrow windows, a pale and hesitant glow that bled into the room and painted the bookshelves in muted gold.

It was the day of the Stranger, seldom celebrated, yet you paid it no heed. Lost in the pages, you missed the bells that tolled the hour and forgot the warmth of your usual morning meal shared with Aemond.

When at last you closed the final volume, a resolve settled in your chest, resolute and unyielding. You would need these items—symbols of protection—and that meant venturing beyond the castle’s shadowed halls and out into the market.

The fur-lined cloak wrapped snug around you, guarding against the bitter drafts that swept through the corridors as you made your way back to your chambers.

As you reached the windows, a rare sight unfolded before your eyes—snow, soft and unrelenting, blanketing the bleak spires of Harrenhal.

Snow was a rarity in King’s Landing, seldom seen during your girlhood there. For a moment, untouched by fear or doubt, you felt the stir of childish wonder rise within you.

Three knights of the Kingsguard, their white cloaks pristine even in the snow, flanked you as you ventured to the market. The square bustled despite the cold, vendors calling out their wares with voices hoarse from the chill. Your list of protective items, hastily scrawled in the early hours, guided your every step.

Surprisingly, the rowan wood was easy to find, its branches bundled tightly with red thread as per custom.

Charms of polished crystal and talismans wrought from iron and bronze were procured with little effort, their sellers eager to part with them for a handful of silver stags.

The murmured blessings from the old crones at their stalls made the hair on the back of your neck prickle, but you pressed on, their eyes shadowed with both reverence and suspicion.

By the time the sun began its descent, casting a gilded glow over the snow-draped stones of Harrenhal, your arms were laden with your newfound protections. You returned to your chambers with purpose, setting to work immediately.

With meticulous care, you bound the red thread around the twigs of rowan wood and placed them above each entrance.

Salt, precious and fine, was spread across the thresholds, each grain catching the firelight like scattered stars.

With charcoal from your writing desk, you etched intricate symbols—wards against dark magics—onto the cold, unyielding stone walls.

But it was not just your own safety you sought to secure. For Aemond, you had combed the market for a piece both practical and protective. After much haggling, you procured a leather eyepatch, supple and black, unmarred by wear.

Returning to your chamber, you carefully stitched shards of black tourmaline into its edge, each piece glinting with a subtle, protective gleam. Your needlework was steady, each pull of the thread imbued with silent prayers.

Lost in your task, you barely noted the soft knock at your door or the maidservant who entered, setting a tray of supper on the table near the hearth.

The aroma of roasted fowl and warm bread wafted through the chamber, but your focus remained fixed.

As you worked by the fire's glow, the shadows that had haunted your waking hours seemed to lessen, replaced by the steady rhythm of thread and needle, and the quiet resolve that this time, you would be ready.

You were so absorbed in your needlework, fingers deftly stitching the dark crystals onto a supple leather patch, that the sudden clearing of a throat startled you. Your gaze snapped up, eyes wide with surprise as they met the cool, familiar face of Aemond Targaryen.

“Husband,” you said, breathless as you hastily hid the finished eye patch beneath a velvet pillow. Rising to your feet, you inclined your head, though your heart thudded with residual tension.

He stood tall and imposing in the dim glow, the silver-white of his hair catching the light like a crown. For a moment, the room felt smaller, as if the walls themselves pressed in with the weight of his presence.

“What brings you here?” you asked, voice touched with confusion and a hint of sharpness. Exhaustion dulled your sense of propriety, leaving the question more pointed than intended.

Aemond’s lone violet eye narrowed, an unreadable glimmer within its depths. “To have supper with you,” he replied, as if such a thing were the most natural answer in the realm.

Your eyes flickered to the table, where two silver plates now sat, the steam rising lazily from the dishes set by the silent servant moments before.

You pressed your lips into a thin line and sighed, murmuring, “I believe my invitation was for yesterday.”

A shadow of regret crossed his face, so brief that another might have missed it, but you saw. As you moved past him to take your seat, you caught the soft murmur that slipped from his lips, “I deserved that.”

Aemond followed and took his place across from you, the creak of the chair echoing in the quiet chamber. For a moment, silence hung between you, broken only by the faint crackle of the hearthfire. His gaze settled on you, sharp and searching.

“I have not seen you at all today,” he said at last, the words carrying a hint of something that might have been longing, tempered by pride.

Your eyes dropped to your hands, fingers fiddling absently with the edge of your gown. Remorse pricked at your heart—you had broken your shared morning ritual, the one part of the day reserved just for the two of you.

“I was very busy,” you replied softly, the excuse feeling thin on your tongue.

Aemond’s expression remained unreadable as he tilted his head slightly. “I heard. Visits to the market square,” he said.

You hesitated, holding back the details of the charms, the salt, the ancient warding sigils you had traced with trembling hands. He would only deem you foolish or worse, mad.

“I needed fresh air.”

His eye narrowed, a flicker of displeasure passing over his sharp features. “It is too dangerous for one in your condition to wander beyond these walls,” he said, the admonishment clear, though his tone held an undercurrent of concern.

You lifted your chin, meeting his gaze with defiance. “That is why I took three of your White Cloaks,” you retorted, the fire in your voice matching the spark in his eye.

For a heartbeat, the tension crackled between you, the weight of unsaid words pressing down like a heavy cloak. Then, Aemond’s lips quirked, almost imperceptibly, as if some silent battle had been waged and resolved within him.

“Good,” he said at last, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “You are no fool, wife.”

The tautness in the room eased, and though unspoken, an accord was reached.

Aemond leaned forward, and placed a carved wooden box on the table between you. “I’ve brought you something,” he said, his voice a measured calm, yet there was an undercurrent of something softer. “An apology for last night.”

Your brows knit together, skepticism clear in your eyes. “My forgiveness cannot be bought with trinkets, husband,” you said, your tone edged with defiance. Yet even as you spoke, curiosity stirred within you.

One of his silver brows arched at your remark, and a small smile ghosted his lips. “Let us see if it is worthy,” you murmured, reluctant to give ground but unable to hide the intrigue that tugged at you.

With a careful hand, Aemond lifted the lid of the box, revealing a necklace of silver and sapphire. The deep blue stone glimmered like the sea under moonlight, capturing the room’s faint candle glow.

Your breath stilled for a moment, eyes tracing the intricate work of the silver links, each carved to mimic dragon scales.

Your fingertips brushed over the gem, the cool surface grounding you as warmth bloomed in your chest. Unbidden, a soft smile tugged at your lips, an expression so rare that even you felt its presence.

“Thank you, husband,” you whispered, your voice softened by genuine gratitude.

Aemond’s face shifted, pride flickering across his sharp features. There was something triumphant in his half-smirk that you could not allow him to savor unchallenged. You rose from your seat, skirts rustling as you moved.

“I, too, have a gift for you,” you said, your tone now light with a note of playfulness.

“Oh?” he replied, one silver eyebrow lifting in surprise, though the glint in his lone violet eye revealed his interest.

“Mm,” you hummed, stepping to the chaise where a small cushion lay. Your fingers slipped beneath it, retrieving the item hidden there. Turning back to him, a touch of shyness colored your expression, a rare sight that softened the lines of your face.

With both hands, you presented him with an eye patch, the black leather supple and embroidered with fine strands of broken tourmaline crystals, catching the dim light with a subtle shimmer.

Aemond took it, surprise giving way to careful scrutiny. His fingers traced the delicate work, the weight of the crystals and their arrangement thoughtful.

“Black tourmaline,” you said quietly, watching his gaze flick between you and the patch. “It is said to have powerful protective qualities.”

You hesitated, unwilling to speak of how it was also believed to ward against dark energies and unseen dangers—of how it might shield him from threats both known and hidden.

For a moment, silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words. Aemond’s mouth quirked into a faint smile, rare and genuine. “Thank you, wife. 'Tis a very thoughtful gift,” he said, voice low and sincere.

A moment passed, and you froze in silent shock as Aemond reached up to remove the eye patch he wore. Of course, you had seen what lay beneath—the striking sapphire set into the hollow of his missing eye—but Aemond was never keen on showing it.

In King’s Landing, he would only take it off moments before sleep and replace it the moment he awoke.

Before he could put on the new eye patch, you placed a hand over his arm. “You know you don’t have to wear it around me, yes? I have no issue with it, and you should not either.”

Aemond stared at you for a long moment, his nostrils flaring slightly. For a heartbeat, you feared you had overstepped, but then he nodded, leaving both eye patches on the table.

A small, victorious smile touched your lips as you felt the weight of this unspoken understanding between you. “Allow me to have the maids bring us some dessert,” you said, the tension lifting.

Aemond nodded, his gaze lingering on you as you turned to the doors.

Stepping into the corridor, you quickly found a maid and requested something sweet to be brought to your chambers. When you returned, your heart faltered at the sight before you. Aemond stood at your desk, his tall frame hunched slightly as he leaned over an open book—your journal.

Panic surged within you, and you strode forward, slamming the book shut with a sharp motion. “What are you doing?” you demanded, your voice sharper than intended, eyes wide with both shock and alarm.

Aemond straightened, holding the closed journal in his hand. His expression was unreadable, though his eye bore into you with quiet intensity. “What is this?” he asked evenly, tilting the book slightly for emphasis.

“My private journal,” you answered quickly, reaching for it, but he lifted it just out of your grasp, his superior height giving him the advantage. “Give it back, husband. It is mine.”

Aemond’s voice was steady but carried an undertone of something raw, almost fragile. “Then why,” he began, his eye fixed on you, ignoring your protests, “do you write to our babe?” There was an ache in his tone, a depth of emotion he hadn’t yet voiced.

The question caught you unprepared, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your fingers tightened around the fabric of your skirts, and your shoulders sagged as you avoided his penetrating gaze. “In case,” you whispered, the words trembling as they left your lips.

“In case of what?” he pressed, his voice low and edged with a demand for understanding.

His gaze bore into you, unrelenting, as though he could uncover your secrets by sheer will. Unable to face him, you closed your eyes and let out a shaky sigh. “In case I’m not there,” you admitted at last, the words barely audible, like a confession carried on the wind.

Aemond’s brows drew together, confusion shadowing his features. “What do you mean if you’re not—” He stopped mid-sentence, his breath catching as realization dawned. The tension in his posture shifted, his shoulders falling ever so slightly. “…There.”

His sharp features softened, a rare vulnerability settling over his face. “Women do survive the childbed,” he murmured, his voice gentler now, as though he feared the weight of his words might shatter you.

“Not every time,” you countered, your tone edged with resignation. “And there’s also… that choice.” Your voice broke on the last word, and you felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the faint crackling of the fire. Then, with a tenderness that made your heart ache, Aemond reached out and cupped your cheek.

His touch was warm, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin as he tilted your face toward him, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“There can be more babes,” he said softly, his words a promise etched with fierce determination, “but there is only one you.”

His eye, a storm of violet and sapphire, held yours with such intensity that you felt as though he was laying his very soul bare. A tear escaped and traced down your cheek, but Aemond caught it with his thumb, his touch steady, grounding you in the moment.

“I would not choose otherwise,” he said firmly, the weight of his vow lingering in the air between you. “Not for all the heirs in the realm.”

Your lips trembled as you whispered, “You swear?”

“I swear it,” he replied, his voice low and resolute. “I will not lose my wife.”

The ache in your chest eased slightly, the warmth of his words wrapping around you like a shield. You placed your hand over his, pressing it gently against your cheek.

With a soft breath, you tilted your head upward, letting your lips meet his in a gentle caress. The kiss was tender at first, a quiet exchange of affection that carried the weight of your unspoken fears and his unyielding promise.

Aemond responded eagerly, his lips pressing more firmly against yours as his hand slid from your cheek to cradle the nape of your neck.

His other hand found your waist, gripping you firmly as he pulled you closer, as if the mere thought of distance was unbearable. His tongue brushed against your lips, seeking entrance, and you granted it willingly.

As his tongue met yours, the kiss deepened, a slow, fervent dance that sent warmth coursing through your veins. A soft moan escaped your lips, and you felt his grip on your waist tighten in response, his fingers digging into the fabric of your gown.

Your hands moved up his chest, tracing the hard planes of muscle beneath his tunic, before curling into the fabric as if to anchor yourself.

The world around you faded, leaving only the press of his body against yours, the taste of him on your lips, and the heat that built between you like the fire crackling in the hearth.

When the kiss broke, it was with a reluctance that lingered in the air between you. Your breaths came in shallow pants as you gazed up at him through hooded lashes, the corners of your lips curving into a teasing smile.

“My love,” you purred, your voice sultry and laced with affection, “you’ve left me wanting… again.”

Aemond’s gaze darkened, the stormy hue of his violet eye smoldering with barely restrained desire. “Have I now?” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, the faintest smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Then it seems I must remedy that, wife.”

You guided his hands lower, to the swell of your belly, then further down to the hem of your nightgown. “Will you show me how much you desire me?” you asked, your voice a sultry whisper. “Make me forget everything but the feel of you inside me...”

A low growl rumbled in Aemond's throat as his hands moved beneath your gown, fingers tracing the curves of your swollen belly before dipping lower to find the damp heat of your core.

“You have no idea how often I dreamt of this,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “Of burying myself deep within you, feeling your walls clench around me...”

With a swift motion, he lifted the hem of your nightgown and pulled it over your head, throwing it aside, revealing your naked form.

His gaze devoured every inch of you, from the full breasts that rose and fell with each ragged breath, to the soft, rounded hips and the glistening folds of your sex.

“Tell me what you want, my queen,” he commanded, his voice husky with desire.

A shiver ran through you at Aemond's bold appraisal, your nipples hardening into tight peaks as his hungry gaze seared your skin. You reached for the fastenings of his breeches, your fingers fumbling with urgency to free his straining erection.

“I want you,” you murmured, your voice low, thick with a desire that lingered like a soft melody in the air. Your eyes never left his, the depth of your longing laid bare in the way your breath hitched.

Aemond’s violet gaze darkened, the flicker of a smirk ghosting his lips. His head tilted ever so slightly, a predator’s grace, as though savoring your words before acting upon them.

You took a step back, your movements slow and deliberate, your footsteps light against the floor as you inched toward the bed. The flicker of the firelight cast a warm glow across the room, the shadows dancing across the carved posts of the bed.

As you reached its edge, you let yourself fall gracefully onto the soft mattress, your body sinking into the luxurious furs and silks. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you gazed at him through lowered lashes, a sly smile curving your lips.

“You beckon me so boldly,” he murmured, his voice a low, velvet drawl, the faintest edge of amusement laced within it. “Have a care, wife, for I am not a man to resist such temptation.”

Aemond watched, transfixed, as you sank onto the bed, the mattress creaking under your weight. His cock throbbed in time with his racing heart, the tip already glistening with precum.

He shed his clothes the rest of the way, letting them fall carelessly to the floor as he stalked towards you, muscles rippling with each step. By the time he reached the bed, he was fully erect, his shaft jutting proudly from a nest of silver curls.

Lying beside you, he reached out to cup your breast, thumbing the sensitive peak before leaning in to capture your mouth in another searing kiss.

His free hand trailed over your round stomach, pausing to tease the edge of your slit before delving deeper, fingers probing your slick folds.

“You're so wet for me already.”

You gasped into the kiss as Aemond's fingers found your entrance, your hips bucking instinctively to meet his touch. “Please,” you whimpered, breaking away from his mouth to gaze up at him with pleading eyes. “I need you inside me. Fill me up, make me yours again.”

As if sensing your desperation, Aemond positioned himself between your thighs, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at your opening. With a deep groan, he thrust forward, sheathing himself to the hilt in one powerful stroke.

You cried out at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure-pain crashed over you. It took a moment for your body to adjust, to relax and welcome the thick length filling you so completely.

Aemond's breath hitched as he bottomed out inside you, your velvety walls gripping him like a vice. For a moment, he simply savored the exquisite sensation, reveling in the tight heat enveloping his throbbing cock.

Then, with a slow, deliberate withdrawal, he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in, setting a relentless pace.

The bed frame creaked ominously beneath the force of his thrusts, but Aemond paid it no mind, lost in the primal rhythm of rutting his mate.

“Yes, just like that,” he growled, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency. “Take my cock, my queen.”

You wrapped your legs around Aemond's waist, heels digging into his firm behind as he pounded into you with wild abandon.

Each brutal thrust sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your veins, your inner walls fluttering wildly around his pistoning shaft.

“Aemond!” You wailed, your nails raking down his back as you met his ferocious pace.

The obscene slap of flesh against flesh filled the room, punctuated by my wanton cries and Aemond's guttural grunts. You could feel the pressure building within you, coiling tighter and tighter like a spring ready to snap.

Suddenly, you were hurtling over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave. You screamed his name as your cunt clenched rhythmically around him, milking his cock for all it was worth.

Aemond's eye rolled back in his head as your velvet sheath spasmed around him, your climax triggering his own. With a hoarse groan, he buried himself to the hilt and came undone, his seed erupting in thick, pulsing jets.

He continued to thrust through the aftershocks, prolonging your shared bliss until he was spent, collapsing beside you with a grunt. For a long moment, the two of you lay entwined, chests heaving as you struggled to catch your breath.

The chamber was awash with the warmth of the firelight and the quiet hum of your contentment. As you lay entwined, your bodies barely a breath apart, your gaze lingered on Aemond’s face.

His sharp features, so often hardened by duty and war, were softened now, his violet eye fixed on you with a tenderness rarely seen.

Your noses brushed lightly, a quiet intimacy, as his hand rested possessively over your waist while yours splayed across his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart.

Almost as if drawn by a spell, he leaned forward, pressing a feather-light kiss to your lips, a gesture so gentle it felt like a whispered promise. When he pulled away, he settled back onto the pillow beside you, his arm still wrapped protectively around you.

You shifted, nestling closer, your head finding solace in the crook of his neck. Your hand lay over his heart, its steady rise and fall a soothing cadence that began to lull you into slumber.

His breathing slowed, each exhale a soft brush against your hair, and soon, the quiet comfort of his presence drew you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

But the peace did not last.

You jolted awake, startled by the sudden thrashing of Aemond’s body beside you. His face, so serene moments ago, was now contorted in anguish, his brow slick with sweat.

His breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps, and his hands clenched the sheets as if warding off some unseen terror.

Your heart clenched at the sight. He had spoken little of his nightmares, but you knew they haunted him—a torment born of battles fought, losses endured, and burdens carried.

Pushing yourself up, you moved with as much haste as your swollen belly would allow, the weight of your pregnancy slowing you only slightly.

Grabbing the robe draped over the chair, you wrapped it around yourself, its soft fabric barely warding off the chill of the room as you padded toward the small table where you had placed your new goods.

Your hands rummaged through the items with purpose, your fingers finally curling around a small vial. You held it up, peering at its contents even in the dim light. The faint, familiar scent already began to calm your racing heart.

Lavender oil.

You returned to the bed, the vial clutched firmly in your grasp. As you sat beside him, Aemond's thrashing began to subside, though his breaths were still ragged, and his jaw clenched tightly.

Carefully, you uncorked the vial, the soothing aroma of lavender wafting into the room. You poured a small amount onto your hands, warming the oil between your palms before leaning over him.

With gentle, deliberate movements, you began to anoint his temples, your touch light yet firm as you traced small, calming circles.

The oil left a faint sheen on his skin, its scent filling the space between you. "Aemond," you whispered softly, your voice low and steady, a tether pulling him back from the depths of his nightmare.

His breathing began to slow, the tension in his body easing under your ministrations. You moved to his wrists, massaging the oil into his pulse points, your hands steady despite the ache blooming in your lower back.

“You are safe,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his ear. “I am here.”

You whispered a silent prayer under your breath, invoking the gods for protection and peace. Your gaze stayed fixed on him, your heart clenching as you watched his features begin to soften, the tension melting away.

You held your breath, waiting. When his form finally stilled, his breathing evening out, you let out a soft sigh of relief. The lavender and your quiet vigil had worked.

Exhaustion weighed heavily upon you, and you slid back into bed beside him, pulling the covers over the both of you. But just as you were about to lay your head against Aemond’s chest, you froze.

A chill ran down your spine, and the hairs on your arms stood on end as an inexplicable sensation swept over you.

You were being watched.

Your eyes darted to the chamber doors, which you now noticed were slightly ajar. Beyond them, barely visible in the darkness, you caught the faint glimmer of glowing green eyes.

Your heart raced, a primal fear coursing through you. The air seemed to thicken, heavy with an unseen presence.

But you steadied yourself, your breathing slowing as you reminded yourself of the protections you had set in place earlier that day.

You had taken every precaution, warding the chamber with runes and incantations, ensuring that no ill intent could cross its threshold. Alys Rivers might wield her strange gifts, but she would not claim Aemond—not without a fight.

With a courage you hadn’t known you possessed, you tightened your arms around Aemond’s sleeping form, drawing strength from the warmth of his body against yours. Lifting your chin, you stared directly into the glowing eyes, refusing to show weakness.

“I won’t let you have him,” you whispered fiercely, your voice a low, steady vow. “Not without a fight, witch.”

For a moment, the air seemed to hold its breath. The green eyes lingered for a moment longer, unblinking and cold, before retreating into the darkness.

Only when the oppressive feeling lifted did you allow yourself to exhale. A trembling sigh escaped your lips as you lowered your head, nestling into Aemond’s chest. His heartbeat, steady and strong beneath your ear, became a soothing rhythm, lulling you out of your fear.

As the night enveloped you once more, you clung to him, your resolve unshaken. Whatever forces sought to disturb your peace, you would face them.

For Aemond, for your babe, for the family you were building together—you would fight.

Hope You Enjoyed!

[supercutszns]

Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo

Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶

true colours; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader

synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.

warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending

notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈

You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky. 

This year, there were two. 

As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls. 

You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.

Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love. 

It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day. 

It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen. 

Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility. 

Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him. 

Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”

(You came in fifteenth.)

You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?

It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away. 

“You alright there, sunshine?” 

He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile. 

“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.

You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.  

The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you. 

Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes. 

“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls. 

Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does. 

They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”

Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him. 

So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice. 

You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you. 

Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”

It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer. 

Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.

Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun. 

“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt. 

You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”

He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh. 

“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on. 

Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear. 

You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.” 

If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is. 

"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink. 

You haven’t talked to him since. 

It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too. 

“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”

The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale. 

“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”

You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”

“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you. 

“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”

“Lee!”

“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.

You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”

“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.

The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next. 

“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”

There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek. 

“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin. 

“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?” 

“No to the first, yes to the second.”

You wish you said no to both. 

The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers. 

He will not. Stop. Looking at you. 

The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.

Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:

You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there. 

It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way. 

Luke, calling your name. 

At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”

He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”

There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him. 

His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear. 

“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”

His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks. 

“I’m not—”

“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.” 

He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it. 

“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!” 

His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”

“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”

“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm. 

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”

“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”

There’s a lull.

“What?” You blink stupidly. 

“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”

His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”

A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”

His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”

“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."

You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.

“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.” 

The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”

“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty. 

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”

The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”

“Not even a little.”

“But you’ve got so many other—”

“I want you.”

“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”

"Your knee is fine!"

"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"

“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”

It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in. 

He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.

“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”

Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”

You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.

“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”

Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth. 

In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.

When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.

She's given you two more rainbows.

[peachpitfics]

Cruel Summer

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Following your romp with Benedict Bridgerton in his art studio, he asked your brother for your hand! Now you're on your honeymoon, and you're getting a little bored, posing for him. A lady must find ways to amuse herself!

Length: 2.1k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), Penetrative vaginal sex, unprotected sex, light bondage, food play.

a/n: This is an anonymous request for a continuation of 'Guilty as Sin'.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Benedict Bridgerton escorting you to view his artwork, at his private studio, was just the beginning of your story. After sneaking around behind your family’s backs for a small while, Benedict gathered enough courage to ask your eldest brother’s permission for your hand. This seemed strange to the y/l/n family, not one of them had ever seen the two of you together, which showed how much attention was paid to the middle child. Benedict made sure to ask you in the Bridgerton drawing room, just before family tea, for everyone to see. He made such a big to-do, confessing his love to you, before every member of the Bridgerton family in attendance. It felt particularly safe there, amongst people who took interest in who you were as a person.

It was bittersweet to have siblings who offered their time, their attentions, and their hobbies freely. You learned so many new things from each of them, from pall-mall, to sewing, even horse riding.  In six months, you were married and moved into the Bridgerton house for the meantime, until after your honeymoon. You would never outright tell Benedict you did not want to move out, but he felt it, he knew.

“My love” Benedict whispered, shaking your shoulders gently. Honeymooning in Paris was something the two of you had instantly agreed upon. So far, two weeks of sleeping late, making love, and eating copious amounts of divine food was your only concern. Of course, there were a lot of other lovely things Benedict had planned for your honeymoon – river boat rides and romantic dinners, every moment between locations filled with fine bread, wine, and cheese.

“Yes, my love?” You grumbled, rolling away from him, clearly having not had enough sleep.

“You must wake up, it is midafternoon!” Benedict exclaimed with a chesty laugh, rolling you back into him and tickling your sides. You howled with laughter, pushing him away playfully, leaning up to distract him as only you knew how. His lips were warm and wet against your own, seductive, and luscious.

“You must come downstairs! The housekeeper has left us a feast and I wish to paint my gorgeous wife” Benedict slid his hands around your naked body, lifting you out of bed as you groaned.

“Again?!” “My darling, I’ll be painting you until death takes me” Benedict chuffed, sliding sideways between doorways and down the stairs to the sitting room.

“What if death takes me first?” You smirked back, figuring you had him cornered here.

“I have made God promise I am to go first. And even so, I’ll have every detail committed to memory and these paintings and sketches of you now to keep me company” Benedict squeezed you in his arms, he didn’t like to joke about parting ways, in any sense. It was his truest nightmare, his deepest fear.

Benedict set you down in the sitting room and gestured to what he and the house keeping staff had readied. Paint, canvas, a staging area - littered around the room were bowls of fresh fruit, bottles of wine, candles surrounded by plates of cheese, oil, and bread. You relaxed back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you, cupping your breasts sweetly. You giggle a little, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He nodded to your position for the rest of the day, a chair with the back faced to a very high window, casting a streak of sunlight down upon the spot.

There you sat, for hardly an hour before your mind began to wander, circling Benedict in your mind like a shark in open water. You had learned to become comfortable being nude for long periods of time these days, however Benedict had learned nothing of your persuasion or power when your attentions were dashed. Your movements started slowly, daintily taking your hands to your knees, and spreading your legs wide upon the chair. Resting a little, relaxing your back and cupping your own breasts. Your fingers gently grazing your nipples. But nothing, no attention from your husband. He sat close to his canvas, squinting into the detail of his work, his realm of perception clearly inhibited. With a huff and a light moan, you continued to palm at your own breasts, fingers trapping your nipples in a pulling motion- you decided to pretend Benedict wasn’t here. Suddenly, taking notice, you watched as his brush left the canvas, his mouth hung open a little and he removed his glasses, almost tossing them to the floor.

“What are you doing, darling?” He mumbled, swallowing hard. Your hands ran down your mid-section, over your belly and down your thighs sensually, soft mewls slipped from between your lips. Benedict loved the sounds you made.

“I’m just amusing myself, continue on with your painting my dear” Your replying comment was nonchalant in the best way. Benedict almost looked offended that you would suggest he could go back to painting.

“How do you suppose I paint, while my wife ravages her own body before me?” He blinked at the audacity of you.

“Well, dear one, this is what you have chosen for this afternoon’s activities… Now, you must endure” You smiled, sliding your hand between your legs, dipping your finger in the wet warmth there. Benedict shuddered, wishing any part of him were exchanged with your finger.

If there was anything you had learned about Benedict in the last six or seven months, it was that his desire for you was consistent and all encompassing. Benedict watched on as your fingers circled your clitoris, you moaned and exhaled gently - his paint brush never did return to the canvas. Beads of sweat formed on his brow line, the hot, French summer finally taking its toll in the late afternoon. You reached to the small stool next to you, extracting the tiniest jar of honey. You looked into Benedict’s eyes, holding the jar above your body, dangling your head back and pouring a steady stream of honey over your chest. The sun glistened, reflecting little pools of light off your sticky, sweet skin.

Taking your finger, you swept up your belly from your navel, placing your finger on your tongue in clear view of him, and that was his very last straw. Benedict threw his paintbrush to the ground, thrusting himself up and out of his chair, to march across the room to you.

“What do you think you are doing, wife?” Benedict’s voice rasped, his eyes were so dark, the colour had all but gone.

“Playing, my love” You replied cheekily, sucking another nip of honey off your finger. He all but growled watching your finger slip between your lips, his breath quickening in sheer lust for you.

“Are you punishing me for getting you out of bed?” Benedict’s face was so close now, his nose tip to tip with yours. There was such tension in his jaw, his teeth clenched hard in his fierce need of you. You fluttered your lashes back at him, refusing to answer with your words.

“Do you have even a semblance of an understanding of what you are doing to me? This is unbelievably cruel,” He breathed heavily down on you, desperation flooding his body and adrenaline surging behind, “You can’t begin to imagine the things I want to do to you right now” His stubble gliding across your ear and cheek, making you shudder.

“Show me then,” You challenged, “You are my husband after all”.

Benedict’s hands slowly moved to his shirt, shedding it, and throwing it somewhere behind him. He acted with a sureness and a strength you hadn’t yet experienced, but it was drawing you in. Undoing his pants, Benedict took his hard member into his hands, stroking himself against your chest, lathering it in honey. His other hand wove into your hair, tangling the perfect hold, bringing you forward.

“Oh. Goodness. Seems I’ve made quite a mess of myself… Wife, help me clean it up” He smiled smugly down at you.

 Something feral, untamed, was unleashed inside you, your eyes darkening, “Certainly, my lord”. As your tongue reached out to meet his tip, his head lulled back in pleasure, his hand still wrapped around the base of him. Your lips parted slowly, encasing his first inch, and swirling your tongue around to suck the honey from him. Benedict exhaled headily, his breaths deep, but quick with the slightest grunt mixed in. The way he sounded, even now, made you wetter and wetter.

There was something maliciously keen in Benedict’s eyes as he watched from on high, your pretty mouth sucking all the honey off him and then some. His body gently rocked forward, his hand heaving your head forward, onto him in a more perverse manner. His head hung back in greedy caution, grasping to the very last straws of his gentlemanly nature as you sunk to the base of him, your tongue wriggling slyly underneath.

His fingers grew taut in your hair, reefing you backwards. His laugh was low, both impressed and challenged by your ministrations. In the next moment, Benedict had hauled you up and over his shoulder, he was charging up the stairs, mad with temerity.

Entering the bedroom, he threw you down on the bed, scrambling for any piece of material in reach, he began ripping. Four pieces of silk fabrics in his hands, he loomed over you in profound ownership. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, Benedict taking each wrist and ankle, tying them to each to their respective corner post of the bed.

“There” He stood, hands on his hips, proud of his work, “There’ll be no more of that”. Clearly touching yourself had had a dire effect on Benedict’s work ethic.

Kneeling between your thighs, his naked body unjustly out of reach, Benedict’s supercilious smile sick with goofy dominance. He thumbs over your folds, his finger descending, extorting whines of pleasure you never knew existed within you. Broad strokes of the most painful, unapologetically evil gratification. Benedict’s tongue flicked over his lips hungrily.

“I need you” The words escaped you violently, the thrill of his touch, his charming smile becoming all too much for you. He ignored you and continued another moment or two, reducing you to a begging mess beneath him.

“Shall I oblige you, my marvellous bride?” His grin was jubilant and all knowing, his hands came down on your wrists, pressing them into the bed. Benedict’s brutal, familiar kiss sown into your lips permanently, as he pushed inside of you with surprise.

“Y/n” He groaned, growled with unrepentant lust. Your eyes cast wide, the length of him stretching you mercilessly while he thrust in and out. His villainous face claiming your entire consciousness as he used your body to his pleasure, decadent facial expressions, and damnable sounds he was delivering straight to your right ear.

“You feel unimaginably perfect” Benedict groaned, your moans joining in alongside his.

Hands grasping for silk to hold onto, you longed for your own release, grinding your hips back against Benedict’s. His movements became more ferocious, keeping up with the sounds you were making. Frenetic energy began to move through your body, your ravenous thirst for him finally quenched. Every muscle in your body engaged in vivid contortion, Benedict pressing into you as deeply as he possibly could before his own body found its own powerful release.

Covered in sweat and honey, you laid tangled together for a moment before Benedict recalled your wrists and ankles were tied. He chuckled with giddiness, sitting up to admire his knots.

“You look fantastic like this, perhaps we should do this more often” He suggested sweetly. His thumb caressed the side of your face, your panting, tired body unable to give a response. Benedict littered your face and neck with loving pecks.

“We could be one person and I still would never be close enough to you. No amount of time with you will ever satisfy me. You are the centre of my world” Benedict whispered gently. Every day you were reminded of the intoxicants his poetic mind dabbled into every sweet thing he said to you.

In another instant, Benedict had sprung from the bed, running downstairs. You laughed, thinking he must be returning with some of the food the housekeeper had left strewn about his romantically planned afternoon. Instead, Benedict returned with a new canvas and his implements. Your mouth fell open all on its own, blinking furiously in his direction as he set himself up off the side of the bed.

“If you could just stay there, like that, that’d be great!” Benedict’s grin, excruciatingly exquisite, and concocting. He held himself with such pride in his agendum, cockiness seemed to fill the room in a potent manner.

“BENEDICT!?” You squealed, tugging frantically on his bindings, your laughter filled with rich resolve.

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

tagging: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr //

If you'd like to be added to this tag list, please let me know!

[verstappen-cult]

OBSESSED, M. VERSTAPPEN.

✶ SUMMARY. You’ve always been a little bit obsessed with your boyfriend. Especially with his thighs.

Or, 2 times Max catches you looking at his thighs + 1 time you do something about it.

content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. max’s thighs. blowjobs. biting. pegging. english is not my first language.

GWEN RAMBLES — this was requested a while ago and just now had the inspo and the time to write it. i’m sorry to the person who asked for this but also big thanks because i’ve also been obsessed with max’s thighs ever since i saw pics of him in those tiny shorts. hopefully we’ll get to see more of that during this summer break. prayer circle, my house at 10pm. 🤞🏼

#1

It’s a very hot summer day and you’re spending it out at sea on Max’s yacht with some of your friends.

And Max is wearing the shortest shorts ever known to man, while also parading himself around the yacht with a gin and tonic in hand.

He’s drunk. You see it in the way he laughs at Daniel’s joke, overly excited and almost doubling down in a hysterical laugh – Max always laughs at whatever comes out of Daniel’s mouth, but when he’s drunk it’s definitely worse – and how he has to grab onto the railing to keep his balance.

His glass is empty, so he excuses himself to go pour some more of his favorite drink. But then he sees you watching him and a big smile breaks out on his face.

“Hey, baby.” He says plopping down next to you, the couch is so comfy that you’ve find yourself dozing off a few times. But the heat has made it impossible for you to catch your sleep. “What are you doing here all alone, pretty girl?”

Oh, yes. He also likes to call you all the petnames in the world when he’s drunk.

You scoff, brushing a strand of hair out of his sweaty forehead. “Jus’ watching you flirt with Daniel.”

“I was not!” He moves away, crossing his arms over his chest like a scolded child.

It is in that exact moment that your gaze is drawn to his legs. His shorts have gone up a little too much, revealing the pale skin of his thick thighs.

Your mouth waters at the sight.

Images of those thighs wrapped around your waist as you fu—

“What you looking at?” Max’s tone is teasing, a smirk dancing on his lips. He knows exactly what you’re looking at.

Your eyes snap up to his, heat going up your chest all the way to your face.

“Oh, shut up.” You bite back, forcing yourself to look away. You raise your own glass of gin and tonic to your lips just to have something to do.

Max keeps on looking at you, you can feel his blue eyes boring holes in the side of your face.

Eventually, he stands up. Right in front of you, so you have no other option than to look at him.

"See something you like?" He asks, chewing on his bottom lip.

You're about to open your mouth to say something witty when he just simply turns around and goes back to the rest of the group.

If your eyes remained fixed on his ass, nobody needs to know that.

#2

Max is training on the terrace. It's a chilly day in Monaco, so he decided to skip going to the gym and, instead, to do his daily training at home.

On one side it's good because he just got back from Italy and you've missed him. You want to spend as much time as you can with him before he needs to travel to the next country.

But on the other side, it’s torture.

You were enjoying a really good book you picked up last week, an orange juice by your side on the lounge chair when he decided it was a good idea to start training mere feet away from you in those stupid shorts of his.

Now you’re trying to make out the words in the page as he sits at the other side of the terrace, legs spread and feet planted on the floor as he does some lifting. His hair is long, so a few strands of hair fall over his eyes.

Your gaze is set in the way the muscle of his thigh tenses as he lifts the weights, then relaxing again while a groan falls from his lips. He repeats the action again. And again.

By the fourth time, you feel overwhelmed and short of breath.

"You've been reading the same page for a while now. Is it that good?" There's a glint of amusement in his eyes and a smirk gracing his lips.

"Uh?" You ask dumbly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

All the blood in your body flows to your face as thoughts of feeling his thighs tensing under your hands while doing something completely different flood your mind.

"You can at least pretend," He snorts, setting the weights aside.

Max grabs a towel to wipe the sweat off his face, his other hand brushing through his hair.

He's so unfairly hot.

You need to cool down. You need to do something.

+1

You successfully avoided your boyfriend the rest of the morning, deciding instead to go to your room to actually read the book. Being as far away as possible from him is what you needed. It’s not fair he looks so good lifting weights.

That was until Max came into the room announcing he was going to take a shower. You didn’t even raised your head, you just kept reading.

But then he emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing more than his boxers.

If you were having a hard time with his shorts before, it is so much worse now. You don’t even know how he put them on, his thighs are one second away from ripping them into pieces.

“Stop ogling me.” He’s drying his hair with a towel, drops of water falling down his naked chest.

You pout, leaving your book aside. You know you will not be reading any more pages today, not while he’s standing there like a sweet waiting to be devoured. “It’s not my fault you have such huge thighs.”

“Thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t be like that,” You get out of bed, walking to him. “I know you like it when I thirst over you.”

“Yes. Because I love being perceived as nothing more than a sex symbol.” Max takes one of his hundreds Red Bull shirts out of the closet, but before he has time to put it on, you throw it across the room.

Max’s complaint dies in his throat when he sees the hunger in your eyes.

“Admit that you like it.” You plant your hands on his chest, pushing him backwards until his back is against the wall.

The towel falls from his hands and he swallows with a barely perceptible nod of his head.

You shake your head, grabbing a pillow from the bed and throwing it in front of him. “No, I want you to say it.” You maintain eye contact as you fall down on your knees, it’s almost funny the way his eyes widen.

His jaw goes slack when he feels your hands on the waistband of his underwear.

“Yes,” He sighs, closing his eyes tightly. “I like it.”

You coo, placing a hand over your heart. “See?” You feign pitying him. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Max whines when you finally pull his boxers down, his already growing cock springing free.

“I don’t know,” He breathes out, looking down at you. “what you like about my thighs so much.”

You have to laugh, a finger moving up and down his left thigh. “What do you mean? Haven’t you look at how,” You grab his thighs, fingers sinking into the muscled flesh. “thick they are? You have no idea how much I want to bite them.”

“Do it.” The words are out of his mouth before he has time to think about it. Not that he doesn’t want you to do it, it’s that if he thinks too much about it he might lose his mind.

You look into his eyes, so blue and deep as the sea, before looking at what you have right in front of you.

The object of your most recent fantasies.

Max takes a sharp intake of breath as you lean in, but instead of immediately biting into the flesh, you run your tongue from the bottom all the way to the top, stopping right before you reach his pelvis. His cock twitching at having your mouth so close.

"Think of how pretty these would look with my teeth marks." Max groans, fisting his hands by his sides. "You should definitely use those tiny shorts now to show everyone what you let me do."

Max can't say anything, his mind going fuzzy at the edges already. He feels like his whole body is on fire.

You keep running your tongue over his left thigh, occasionally sucking a mark. Only when you're pleased with your work, you move to the other one.

"Plea—" A moan gets ripped from his throat when you sink your teeth into his thigh, your hand brushing against his cock. The second time you do it, Max thrust his hips up at nothing.

"So fucking perfect." You moan seeing the final result. "I can't believe you're letting me mark you."

Max is about to reply when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

"Oh, fuck!"

With the help of your hand you start stroking what doesn't fit in your mouth, the taste and how big it feels against your tongue making you moan.

Max tangles his fingers in your hair. His vision going blurry as you twirl your tongue around the tip of his cock and, without warning, taking as much as you can in your mouth until your nose touches his pelvis. You have to stop yourself for a few seconds to breathe through your nose, before pulling back until only the head is in your mouth. Slowly, and lifting your gaze up to his, you start bobbing up and down, hollowing your cheeks.

Max's moans and pants fill the room, mixing with the slurping sounds of your mouth and tongue working on his shaft.

You drag your teeth along the sides of his cock, and Max hisses in response. "Fuck, do it again." And you do it, pulling an obscene sound from him.

When Max looks down, he finds the hand that's not on his thigh, feeling the muscles tensing under it, between your legs, moving in circles against your clit.

Max thrusts his hips up, not being able to hold back, and immediately regrets it when he hears you cough. But then you’re pull off him, a grin on your face as you wipe the saliva with the back of your hand.

"Do it again."

That's the only thing you say before taking him deeper into your throat.

Max pulls lightly on your scalp, and you moan around him. It makes him do it again as he start thrusting his hips into your mouth, the gagging sounds almost enough to send him over the edge.

"Fuck, look at you. So pretty with your mouth full of my cock."

You moan and squeeze his thighs, hearing his breathing get more ragged lets you know how close he is to his release.

So, you pull off him.

Max groans at not feeling the warmth of your mouth around him anymore. He was so close to spilling down you throat.

"On the bed." Your throat is sore and are in need of a glass of water. But it can wait.

It takes him a moment to process your words, but then he's moving and climbing into the bed.

You stand up, your knees hurting despite having the pillow underneath, and open the special drawer you two have in the closet.

Max's gasps makes you chuckle.

You take out Max's favorite harness and one of your favorite dildos. It's a little smaller than Max's huge cock. Just a little bit.

You leave it by Max's side as you climb on top of him. "Spread your legs." He does it, getting comfortable against the pillows. "More." You help him by bending his right knee, feet planted on the mattress.

You take your sweatpants and underwear off, before leaning over to grab some lube from the nightstand.

Max's blue eyes glaze over. You straddle his left thigh, a soft moan falls from your mouth when your cunt makes contact with his skin, and he flexes his thigh.

"You—," He groans, tilting his head back against the pillows. "You're already soaking my thigh." He says in a gasp, his hand finding your hip and helping you move against him. "Got turned on by sucking my cock, uh?" He teases you and all you can do is nod, at a loss of words, your clit dragging against his muscled thigh making you whimper.

You're overwhelmed by the pleasure, only able to moan his name over and over, and over again. Your eyelids fluttering shut when you grind just right against him.

But you have a plan, so without pausing the drag of your pussy, you grab the lube, popping the cap and coating two fingers.

Max looks intently as you warm your fingers before guiding them to where he needs you the most. He instinctively spreads his legs some more, giving you enough space.

Your cling onto Max's arm on your hip to keep moving against his thigh as you slip your index finger into the tight heat of Max's hole.

Max moans loudly. He doesn't know where to look, if at you bouncing on his thigh or at where your finger disappears inside of him.

"More," He grits his teeth on a whimper, closing his eyes for a second. "Please."

And who are you to say no? You slide your finger all the way in, pumping slowly until you have him moaning for more; so you add a second finger, scissoring them to open him up.

Your legs begin to shake, forcing Max to help you by tensing his muscles which makes it easier to grind against him. The angle is a little weird, but neither of you seem to care.

Max's hips thrust up to meet your fingers, which are now hitting his prostate on every stroke. He's out of breath, pre-cum pooling on his lower belly, and throws his head back, clenching around your fingers.

Seeing him so desperate only spurs you on.

Your climax takes you by surprise. White-hot pleasure erupts behind your eyelids with a broken moan. His name, Max, Max, Max echoing in the room. Head thrown back in pure ecstasy.

It takes you a moment to go back to yourself and when you do, Max has a desperate look on his face, jaw slack and eyebrows furrowed.

"You're so unfairly hot." Finally letting him know your thoughts from earlier. "You okay, baby?" You ask, teasingly. Moving your fingers slowly, staring intently down at his face.

"More." He cries out.

"You're doing so good for me, Max." You praise him, fucking your fingers in harder, making him moan louder. You love to make him moan like this.

When Max starts babbling, you know he's getting close. So, you pull your fingers out. He's shivers slightly, feeling desperate at being so close to his orgasm again but not being able to reach for it.

While Max is busy trying to control his breathing, you grab the harness to lube up the toy.

Max groans desperately when he feels you between his spread legs, the head of the dildo sliding easily into his hole.

You stare intently down at him and he grabs your hips to help you slide all the way in until your hips are pressed up against his ass. You place your hands on his thighs, and he immediately wraps them around your waist with enough force to keep you still, not letting you move.

You stare into each other's eyes, and then you're meeting halfway in a hungry and messy kiss. You feel like you can't breathe and need him to survive, and for the way he licks into your mouth you know he feels the same.

When you pull away, he nods at you to continue. You grip his hips, setting a brutal pace that has him groaning and fisting the sheets.

Max whines and squeezes his eyes shut, feeling you so deep it’s almost sucking the air out of him.

"Does it feel good?" You pant, fucking harder. The slapping of your skin against his so obscene it makes your cunt clench around nothing.

It's good, it's incredible even. But he needs more, he needs—

"I want to ride you."

Your brain buzzes, his words echoing in your head. "Yeah?" You slow down, biting your lip when you find his eyes, blue completely swallowed by black.

He helps you pull out and sit against the headboard, and you can't tear your eyes away from his bruised thighs, the love bites and teeth marked a reminder of your obsession with that specific part of him.

Max pushes himself up on his knees and straddles you, hovering over your cock. He maintains eye contact as he wraps his hands around it and slowly lowers himself.

His thighs clench as he feels the tip breaching his ring of muscles. It feels tighter, even though you've been inside of him moments ago. He manages to sink down completely, hissing at feeling so full.

"Just—give me a second." He whispers, one of his hands holding onto your shoulder.

Max lifts himself up, your cock almost slipping out, only the tip still inside, before letting himself fall down. He keeps that rhythm for a few minutes, adjusting to the feeling of you inside of him.

When he starts bouncing on your cock with a little more force, you start to thrust your hips up to meet him, ripping moan after moan from his throat.

"You feel so, shit, so good." He sighs, leaning in to connect your lips.

You moan into each other's mouths, your cock hitting that particular spot inside of him.

Max breaks the kiss and places his hands on your legs behind him, bracing himself as he rolls his hips, the new angle making his mind shut down completely.

"Good boy," You praise him, gaze flicking from his leaking cock to his bruised thighs clenching every time he pushes himself up. "Taking my cock so well. Look at you, so pretty."

You know you hit his prostate when he sobs, your name falling from his lips like a prayer.

His movements become sloppy, his thighs clenching with more force as he gets closer and closer to his orgasm.

A few more thrust with your fingers digging into his hips, and he's shooting a huge load of his cum across his stomach and even chest. He sees stars behind his eyes, his climax so intense he feels like passing out. He keeps on riding you through his orgasm, letting his head fall forward against your forehead. He only stops when starts to feel overstimulated.

Both of you stay silent for a few moments, trying to catch your breath. Only when Max feels like he's not going to pass out, he opens his eyes to see you already looking at him, a soft smile on your lips.

He kisses you softly. "So, what about my thighs? Really, I need to know because it's a little weird."

You huff, rolling your eyes. "It's not weird."

Max laughs, cupping your cheek. "Of course not."

"It is not!" You say indignantly, your thumbs drawing patterns on his hips. "It's like you being obsessed with my tits. I don't tell you it's weird."

"I have teeth marks all over my thighs. I won't be able to wear shorts for weeks."

"I didn't hear you complaining when I was on my knees." You shrug as Max gests comfortable on top of you, the toy still sitting inside of him.

"Shut up, you weirdo." He jokes.

"You love me."

He looks at you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. "I do."

do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.

[planetaryupscaled]

Our Little Secret

Male Reader x Eunbi

Tags: 4k, creampie, stepmom

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

“Oh you like that? you naughty boy.”

—

I became a new half-brother three months ago, at the age of twenty-three. Though I know this is completely normal, it still feels strange to be so much older than my sister. Even stranger that my step-mom is not much older than me. A year ago, my dad married a twenty seven year old woman. She had her child three months ago at the age of 28. It still feels strange to see them with a baby. But I'm getting used to it.

As I walked up to the door of their house, I took out my key and unlocked the door letting myself in. Walking in, I set my bag next to the staircase.

“Hello.”

“Hey Tae,” my step-mother, Eunbi, called. “In the living room.”

Walking into the living room I was a little startled as she was breastfeeding Sooyun on the couch.

“I hope you’re not offended by this,” Eunbi said looking up at me with smile. “I was just finishing giving her a snack before putting her down for bed.”

“Oh no, not at all,”

“Good,” she replied with a soft smile. “Going to put her down and let your dad watch her for a while. Though he’s taking a quick nap, had a hard day at work I guess.”

“Figures,” I said with a bit of a knowing look.

“Yep, that’s him. Always the party crasher,” Eunbi said as she walked out of the room.

As Eunbi walked by me, I caught a glimpse of one of her breasts, as she hadn't put that side of her spaghetti strap top back on. She obviously wasn’t wearing a bra and while I had noticed it before, her breasts really had grown quite a bit since her pregnancy. Probably has a lot to do with the milk stored in them now. She used to probably be something like a B cup, I never looked that hard really, she is my step-mother after all.

I was sitting on the couch with a bottle of water by the time she came back into the living room. Walking back in I looked a little more closely. At her breasts and entire body, they really had grown a considerable amount.

Eunbi was very attractive. She had pretty tanned skin and black long hair that flowed down her shoulders. Her eyes were dark brown. She was pretty much back in good shape, loosing most of all that extra pregnancy weight, which just in three months is pretty amazing. Eunbi was about 5’3” I would guess and what she was wearing only helped make her look better. Not that she really needs it.

Since it was the middle of summer, it made sense that she had on the black spaghetti strap top which she had put back into place but still no bra. She was wearing light colored jean shorts that probably went to about mid-thigh, showing off her legs nicely with a pair easy slip-on sandal.

“Would you like anything else to drink?” Eunbi asked as she noticed my bottle of water.

“No, water is just fine,” I replied with a soft smile.

“Oh being healthy tonight huh?” she teased lightly.

“Hey! I am, most of the time,” I shot back playfully.

“Well,” she replied looking at me. “With a physique like that, you must.”

“Water does help,” I replied mid laugh and with a smile. “Thanks.”

Eunbi then walked over and sat next to me on the couch as she turned on the TV, with only about four inches separating our legs. She turned down the volume enough so that we could still hear each other talking.

“So did you have a decent day?” Eunbi asked turning her head to look at me.

“Eh it wasn’t so bad,” I replied with a smile. There was a moment after I replied that we both looked into each other's eyes for a second longer than usual before we both turned our heads to look back at the TV.

“Ahh shoot,” Eunbi sighed as she stretched her legs out in front of her, stretching her muscles. “I forgot Sooyun’s bottle in the kitchen, and I am so full of milk right now. Sooyun didn’t want much earlier.”

She gently held her breasts underneath them on the bottom as she referred to how full they were. It was then that I noticed her nipples were really hard and pushing outward underneath her top. It feels kind of wrong marveling at her breasts like that, but I can’t say I don’t like them either.

“I’ll go get it for you.” As I was about to go get it, she held my hand.

“Oh no, don’t worry about it, I can do it later.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah…” she replied with a smile. As she said that she moved herself right next to me, the sides of our bodies touching and she laid her head down on my shoulder, “I’m sure.”

I wrapped my arm around her, letting my hand rest on her shoulder as I held her gently. Her hair smelled good too, she must have taken a shower a little bit before I got here. A fruity smell, maybe mango or something like that.

“I hope she turns out to be as nice and caring as you,” Eunbi said softly with her head still on my shoulder and looking forward.

“I’m sure she will and thank you for the compliment.”

With that she moved her head and looked up at me with her pretty brown eyes and said, “Of course. You fully deserve it. You’re a wonderful step son.”

I smiled back as she said that, meeting her smile. We held the gaze for a few moments looking into each other's eyes, perhaps a couple seconds too long this time. Breaking the gaze, she laid her head back on my shoulder. Looking down I noticed her nipples were still hard, maybe even harder now.

“This may sound kind of strange but I was wondering,” I started to ask looking down at her. “Do you ever...taste yourself? I’m just curious. I would think mothers would.”

Propping her head up a bit she looked back at me and asked, “You mean my milk?”

“Umm...” I started to reply as I let it sink it what she said. Realizing that what I asked could have meant something else that I didn’t mean to ask at all I quickly said, “Yes, your milk.”

“I have actually, yes... it’s kind of sweet tasting with a bit of a saltiness to it,” she said giggling a little bit as she smiled back at me obviously getting what I was realizing. “Why? Did you wonder what it tasted like?”

“Just curious, really,” I replied somewhat innocently. “Though I guess now that I think about it, yeah I did.”

“Would you like to try some? It is safe for grown people too!” she said playfully.

“Umm, I guess…” I said somewhat hesitantly. Not quite what I had in mind but this seemed o.k. “Do I need a glass or something?” dumb question to ask on my part.

“No need,” she said with a smile looking me in the eyes. “It is best if you try it from the source.”

“Eunbi...” I called out her name. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea... I know we’re not related and all but you are my step mom.”

“Its fine…” she said reassuringly. “One little suck isn’t mean anything and no one will ever know but us.”

With that, she pushed both straps of her top down her arms, over and off of her breasts. Exposing them. Her large tanned skin, luscious looking breasts were gorgeous. Her aureoles were dark pink, large, and swollen, and her nipples were hard and pushed straight out. Her breasts hung down slightly, which she pushed out by pushing her chest forward as she looked at me.

“Wow they’re gorgeous,” I whispered softly under my breath, realizing a moment later she probably heard me.

“Thanks,” she replied with a smile looking at me and gently cupping her breasts at the bottom of them. “Take your pick as to which one you want your sample from. Just be careful, they’re extra sensitive right now.”

I smiled back, looking her in her eyes before slowly lowering my head. I moved my mouth toward the one closest to me—her left one. As my mouth neared her nipple, I slowly stuck out my tongue and gently flicked the tip of her nipple. She drew in a short quick gasp as I did and I knew, even if it was wrong, that she probably wouldn’t mind if I had more than one quick suck.

As my mouth reached her nipple, I grasped it with my lips. Gently flicking it with my tongue inside my mouth, I began to softly suck on her hard nipple. Feeling milk seep out of her nipple and into my mouth I sucked a little bit harder as then her milk squirted into my mouth. It did taste somewhat sweet with a hint of saltiness. It wasn’t too bad as I swallowed it and sucked harder, getting more of her milk into my mouth.

After that larger suck I removed my mouth and ran my tongue from her nipple all the way across her other breast to her other nipple. Grasping that one in my lips just as I had the other, I began sucking on it taking her milk into my mouth. Moving my hand up I very gently pinched her other nipple as I sucked.

“Ohhh,” Eunbi sucked in a sharp gasp. “Oh Tae, I haven’t been touched like this in months. This isn’t right but… don’t stop.”

Hearing her say that only made me suck harder, taking more of her sweet warm milk into my mouth. After I had a little more of her milk, I removed my lips from her nipple and looked up at her smiling. She returned the smile and looked at me with her brown eyes which said that she clearly wanted more.

Moving my head up to be level with hers, I took a chance and leaned in and kissed her gently on her soft lips. She didn’t back away, instead she kissed me back, gently at first but soon we were kissing passionately. She had wrapped her arms around me, pressing her breasts into my chest. I had one arm around her while my other hand was pinching one of her hard nipples.

In the middle of our embrace, she abruptly stopped and pulled away. Looking back at me, “We can’t… This is wrong, what are we thinking? especially not right here and now, your dad, he’s only taking a nap. He could wake at any time.”

“Yeah...” I sighed softly as I leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. “I guess you’re right.”

“No more of that either, except this last one…” she said with a sly smile as she gave me a hard deep kiss before pulling away.

Eunbi then cupped her breasts in her hands, gently kneading them outward squirting her milk out of her nipples at me, particularly my face. I smiled at her as she did it a few times before putting her top correctly back on.

“I’m so glad you liked that,” she said gently wiping the milk off my face. “I don’t know if we can ever continue this, it is wrong, but deep inside, I definitely want to.”

“Am too,” I smiled back at her.

“Good, I am glad we understand each other,” she replied. “I'll go get dinner ready.”

With that she got up off the couch and left the living room. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. Was this some kind of dream? I pinch myself, nope I guess it wasn’t. I really had just sucked milk out of my step-mothers nipples and we had both enjoyed it immensely.

The rest of the evening went by and we had our dinner, and talked about random things before saying our goodnights and heading to bed.

Getting to my room was all the way up the third floor of the house. It was somewhat of a loft because it was the only thing up here. The staircase came directly into the room after opening the door. But you didn't have to go up a ladder, so it wasn't really a loft. Getting into bed I decided to sleep naked like I normally do. It was warm enough and after a little while of dozing, I fell right asleep.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to hear the baby during the night as they were all the way down on the first floor. But sure enough I was able to as at about 2 am when she started crying. After about 30 minutes it seemed to be perfectly quiet again with no outbursts at all.

About 15 minutes later, I heard the door to my room creak open, then close again. Looking up from my bed still in a groggy sleep, I saw Eunbi standing near the door, watching me. She was wearing what looks to be a silk nightgown in a light peach shade color that goes down to her mid-thigh. Her nipples were hard again and pushing against the fabric. I smiled at her as she looked at me.

“I know I said we probably couldn’t do any of this again,” she said quietly. “But my body and mind are just begging to be touched again. I haven’t been touched like you did earlier in a long time.

“Your dad once I got close to term with Sooyun stopped wanting to be with me in this sort of way for the most part. And now after she’s born, it’s been even worse. I need, and want the attention.”

“I don’t know how anyone could pass up someone as gorgeous and sexy as you,” I replied with a smile.

As I said that, she walked over to the edge of my bed, pulled back the covers, and got in next to me, smiling. She placed herself close to mine before she leaned in and kissed me, we kissed passionately as she ran her hand down the side of my body from my shoulder down to my thigh.

“Sleeping naked huh?” she whispered with a mischievous smile. “I like that. I’m only wearing this nightgown, and I’m sure we could change that.”

“Oh?” I commented giving her soft kiss. “Well, why don't we right now?”

Eunbi smiled at me as she sat up in bed and pulled her nightgown over her head, revealing her wonderful breasts as well as her pussy. Looking down, I noticed she had some hair down there before wriggling back under the covers and pushing closer to me.

“Sorry about the hair down there,” she said looking down her body. “I have let it grow lately without doing much to it.”

“Sorry?” I replied with a bit of shock that she was apologizing. “You’re gorgeous how you are. I love it.”

“Really?” She commented excitedly with a smile and a warm kiss. “I’ll keep it then. Just for you. Our little secret.”

Gently running my hand down her soft skin on the outside of her thigh I slowly moved inside and then upward. She instinctively moved her legs apart as I reached her pussy, which was hairy, wet and warm.

“Mmmmm,” Eunbi moaned quietly as my hands ran across the slit of her pussy lips. “I need this so bad.”

“And I want this too bad.” I said.

Eunbi trying to push her pussy down more onto my hand. “You can have all of me that you want, the way you want.”

I gently slipped two fingers into her wet throbbing pussy and began pushing them in and out of her, curling them inside as she moaned quietly in pleasure. Taking my fingers out, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her body against mine, pressing my hard thick cock into her mound of pussy hair as I kissed her deeply and passionately.

She broke away a little bit and grasped my hard cock in her hand, starting to stroke it up and down with her slender fingers from its base to its head.

“Ohhh Eunbi…” I moaned as she increased her speed while stroking my hard cock. “That feels so good… don’t stop.”

As she continued to stroke my cock, I took one of her breasts in my mouth. Wrapping my lips around one of her hard nipples I began to suck on it letting her milk squirt into my mouth. I continued to suck on it, letting more and more of her sweet milk into my mouth. She stopped stroking me as intensely as she was groaning in pleasure from my sucking and pinching of her other nipple.

“Oh god Tae, yes...take all the milk you want from me,” she moaned in pleasure.

Smiling up at her after she said that, I moved to her other breast licking her big sensitive dark pink swollen aureole before grasping her nipple with my lips. Sucking in I took more large squirts of her milk into my mouth, savoring its sweet taste.

Eunbi had moved her hand back to my hard cock and was slowly stroking it up and down, playing with the head of it and any pre-cum with her thumb.

“Mmmm, oh yes,” I groaned lightly as I took my mouth off of her nipple.

“Oh do you like that Tae?” Eunbi asked playfully. “Glad you do because I can’t go any longer without your big hard thick cock inside me. I’m throbbing for it more than I knew I ever could.”

With that she threw back the covers on the bed and straddled me. Kneeling over me she pressed my cock down on my stomach with her hairy pussy and grinded gently on it. Smiling down at me she began to knead her breasts outward, squirting milk out of them toward my chest and face.

“Do you like that? Oh you naughty boy,” she said with a mischievous smile as her milk squirted out of her hard nipples over me. “I’m a mommy now. Do you want to fuck your step mommy’s pussy? You better, because I want your hard cock so bad.”

I nodded as she moved her hips up, placing the tip of my cock on the slit of her hairy pussy. She gently moved my tip of my cock along her lips, feeling her pussy hair before pushing her hips down, sliding the head of my cock inside her.

“Ohh god…” Eunbi gasped as it entered her and she continued pushing down, taking me all inside. “Oh yes...yes. Fill me up, mommy wants all your cock!”

I pushed up as she slid down my hard thick cock, pushing my entirety into my step-mom’s love hole. Her wet pussy was swishing around my cock as she began to go up and down on me.

Eunbi was bouncing up and down, lifting her hips all the way up so just the head of my cock was inside her before pushing herself right back down to the base of my cock. Her big swollen breasts were jiggling frantically up and down as she rode me. I reached up and began massaging her breasts as she bounced, making her spray her milk.

She bent down so I could take her nipple in my mouth as she continued to push herself up and down on my hard cock. I began sucking on her nipple, enjoying the flow of her milk into my mouth.

“Oh god, yes,” Eunbi moaned as I sucked on her nipple taking her milk. “Suck out mommy’s milk while you fuck me...ohhhh, god yes.”

My cock was pumping in and out of her wet pussy and I continued to suck out her milk from her nipples.

I then slid my hands down the sides of her body to her waist as Eunbi sat upright on top of me again, bouncing up and down on my hard cock. I could feel her pussy walls loosely grasping at my cock as I pushed into her. She was moaning with her head back and hair flowing down her back. Her juices were leaking out of her pussy and down my cock to my balls, making a spot on the bed.

I could feel my cock beginning to thicken inside of her as well as my balls beginning to contract as she continued to ride me. Eunbi could feel it too as she went up and down even fast and harder.

“Oh you’re going to cum soon aren’t you?” Eunbi said breathing heavily looking down at me with a smile. “You better cum deep inside of me. Mommy needs to be full of cum, maybe you get yourself another sibling.” She said with a seductive smile.

We were both moaning as my cock continued to thicken inside her as I went hard and fast in and out her wet cunt. I began to feel her pussy contract in pleasure and I just couldn’t take it anymore.

Thrusting myself up deep inside of her, Eunbi slammed down on my cock and sat there grinding into me as I began to spasm inside of her. My cock was erupting inside of her, spraying my warm sticky cum deep into my step-mom’s pussy. Eunbi continued to grind on me causing her hanging breasts to sway back and forth as my cock still pushed my cum out and deep inside her.

“Oh god...fuck…yes...” Eunbi breathed out sharply as she felt my cum shoot deep inside her wanting pussy. “God that feels good, oh I needed this so bad. Oh Tae, you’ve made mommy feel so… so good!”

Looking up at her smiling, I reached up cupping her breasts and gently pinched her swollen nipples before massaging her breasts. Softly kneading them her nipples began to spray out more milk onto my chest. Eunbi then replaced her hands with mine as she lifted her hips up, removing my wet cock from her wet pussy. Laying down beside me, Eunbi massaged her breasts aiming her spraying milk at my chest and face. Licking my lips I took as much of her sweet milk as I could smiling.

“So love that you like this,” Eunbi said giggling at me with her milk on my face. “I need this from you more than just this once.”

“So I take it, mommy...is doing alright?” I said with a smile, emphasizing the word mommy.

She gave me a huge smile as I said that, leaning in and giving me a big warm kiss. She then pushed her hips toward me as we were lying on our sides, pressing her mound of pubic hair against my semi-limp wet cock. I pushed my hips forward rubbing against her hair as I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her passionately.

“Yes, oh yes,” Eunbi whispered breaking our embrace. “Only thing mommy would want now, is more of your cum in mommy’s already cum filled pussy,” she added with a warm smile.

Giving her a mischievous smile, I rolled her onto her back and got on top of her. Her legs spread apart instinctively as I climbed on top of her. My cock was now hard again; I teased her with it, gently rubbing the tip of it on her hairy pussy lips.

“Oh god… no teasing, just fuck me already, fill me up with that hard cock,” Eunbi breathed as she heaved her hips upwards.

Pushing my hips down, I slid my hard cock into her sopping wet pussy easily. Starting to move my hips up and down, I was pushing my hard thick cock as deep into her as I could go.

Her walls of her pussy were grasping at my cock, hugging it as tight as they could. Our juices had mixed together and were seeping out of her now, trickling out of her pussy down over her ass and to the bed, making a bit of a little puddle.

Thrusting my hard thick cock into here sopping wet hairy pussy, she was matching my motions by thrusting her hips up. God, she felt so good wrapping around my cock. I wish I could do this all day long but I knew that wasn’t going to happen plus I wasn’t going to be able to last that long this time.

Continuing to push my hard cock into her, I cupped one of her breasts in my hand and brought my head down toward it. Running my tongue around the dark swollen aureole I then grasped her hard nipple and sucked. Her milk squirted out, filling my mouth with her sweetness.

“Mmmmm!... Oh god yes,” Eunbi moaned bucking her hips up hard. “Take mommy’s milk in your mouth.... oh yes, like that...and her pussy, oh yes...push your hard cock deep into mommy’s pussy.”

I couldn’t take it much longer, my hard cock was thickening inside her as my balls were beginning to contract while I took one more suck from her nipple, tasting her sweet milk in my mouth over my tongue. She could tell I wasn’t going to last much longer as she pushed her hips up hard and wrapped her legs around my ass pulling me in.

Pressing my cock into her wet hairy loose pussy as deep as it could go, I began to let go. My cock started to convulse inside her tightening pussy walls, spraying my second warm sticky cum deep into her pussy. Bucking her hips into me, Eunbi moaned as my cock pushed out more of my cum into her warm pussy.

As we subsided, we collapsed in each other’s arms laying on our sides. Eunbi was pressing her big soft luscious breasts against my chest as she smiled at me.

“Oh Tae,” she said softly. “You’ve no idea how happy you’ve made me.”

“No?” I replied with a smile.

“You filled my pussy with so much cum, I hadn’t had any for so long and now all this...oh god it feels so good,” she whispered with a big smile as she wiggled her hips against me.

Eunbi then reached her hand between her legs, plunging two of her fingers deep into her pussy coating them in the mixture of our juices. Pulling them out she brought them up to her mouth and slowly sucked the juices off of them, savoring the taste.

Smiling back at me with her gorgeous brown eyes after she sucked off the last of our juices on her two fingers, I pushed my naked body against hers as we slowly drifted off to sleep.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Shhh....

Summary: Being a single parent comes with all kinds of challenges. Challenges that are so much easier to deal with when the father of your daughter's best friend is there to take of your more personal needs. And if that meant sneaking off with you into a laundry room at a garden party? Well who would he be to complain?

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Rating: E

Warnings: smut (semi public sex, unprotected sex, oral f receiving, cumplay) friends with benefits to lovers, a lot of flirting, fluff?

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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

He didn’t know exactly why he agreed to go to this garden party. It was one of the few Saturdays he had off and he wanted it to spend with Sarah. She’s been in middle school since the summer and with all the changes that brought they only had little time to hang out in the last few weeks. 

So when Sarah brought the invitation for this garden party that the parents of one of her new classmates were throwing, he wanted to decline. But Sarah told him she really wanted to go, and that if he had something else to do that day, he could just drop her off and pick her up after?

But of course Joel Miller went with her. 

And it wasn’t that bad. The drinks were cold, the food was good and meeting all the new parents at the beginning of the year was a good thing too. Even if he already had forgotten most of their names. There were a few faces he recognised from Sarah’s elementary school, so he kept talking to them, all while having an eye out on Sarah who was playing soccer with some kids at the other side of the backyard. 

„Fancy seeing you here,“ he heard your voice behind him, and his eyes closed before he took a deep breath and turned around, fighting unsuccessfully against the smile that sneaked to his lips as he looked down at you. 

„Could say the same,“ he winked and your smile widened. 

This party just got interesting. 

You were running late.

The plan was to leave around twenty minutes ago but Charlotte, your daughter, just couldn’t decide on what to wear. She just turned twelve and if this last half year was a preview on how puberty would be with her, than you were in for a wild ride. 

Usually you used the weekends to charge your mental batteries by having as little contact to the outside world as possible after working at a bakery and having to be social all week. 

But Charlotte had brought the invitation for the garden party a couple weeks ago, begging you to go because Sarah would be there too. 

And where Sarah was, her father wasn’t far behind which was why you said yes in the end and spend way too much time on deciding what to wear before you decided on a light summer dress. 

It had been a while since you seen him, and you couldn’t even remember the last time the two of you had found the time to have sex.

Because ever since Charlotte and Sarah became best friends some time back in pre school, you and Joel started sleeping together occasionally. The first time happened after a night out at the bar where you ran into him, both of your kids on a sleepover. It had been positively mind-blowing and you were more than eager to agree to keep this going when you both needed a release. 

His wife had left him and Sarah before the girl turned one and your husband had used your pregnancy to fuck his secretary because apparently carrying his child made you unattractive to him.

And with both you and Joel being very devoted single parents, both of your love lives was pretty much non existent. You wouldn't say it was frequent now, but every month or two you would find some hours where you’d meet up at either of your houses, not leaving before both of you were more than satisfied. 

And you didn’t know if it was the secrecy of the whole thing, but my god the way Joel Miller knew how to play your body to the point of a crying orgasm was addictive.

But now you hadn’t really seen him in almost three months. 

With the school change and summer break things were busy not only for you, but for him too. You texted occasionally, trying to figure out a time to meet up, but business was picking up for Miller construction and Joel used the little time he had off to spend with Sarah. 

Something you could understand. 

So you were excited to see him as you parked your car right behind his on the street after Charlotte finally had chosen a dress to wear. You knew all that time deciding on her outfit would be for nothing once they played soccer, but hey. 

Charlotte was off to see Sarah as soon as you stepped into the garden, many people already mingling. The smell of fresh BBQ lingered in the air and before you even had taken two steps inside you already had an iced tea in hand, the host, one of the moms of a new classmate of Charlotte that you had met before, welcoming you. 

You were glad that Charlotte and Sarah where in the same class, both of them loving each other like sisters. With Joel working so much you had Sarah over more often lately, seeing Joel only when he picked her up. 

She was very well behaved and deep down you got the impression she loved hanging around with just girls for a change. Of course Joel was the best father, but there are some things that teenage girls don’t want to speak to their dads about. 

Such as how to use the eyeliner she secretly bought correctly or the awkward question about what to use, pads or tampons or period underwear?

It was nice that she trusted you with questions like that. 

You knew from Joel that she had struggled to not have a mom like other kids and he told you it was nice that she now had you to ask all those questions. 

Not that you were her mom, or wanted to be. 

Well…. Okay maybe sometimes deep into the night when you looked at the empty space in bed next to you, you might imagine how it would be if Joel would be there, every day. How could you not?

He was the hot single dad every mom in class always wanted and you were the one who had him. Occasionally. But still.

You let your eyes gaze through the backyard before you saw the broad shoulders of the man you had hoped would be here.

You could feel the butterflies in your belly as you walked over to him and fuck that smile he gave you when he turned around…

„Work still keeping you busy?“ You asked a little while later, both of you with a plate of food in front of you, sitting at one of the tables outside. 

„Yeah. Can’t remember when I got more than five hours of sleep at night the last time,“ he groaned and you reached one hand over to rest on his knee before you could stop yourself. 

„You got to take care of yourself, honey. Let that brother of yours pick up some slack too,“ you winked and he gave you a bashful smile before one of his hands came to rest on top of yours. 

„He does. As a matter of fact he’s taking over the next project so I have some more free time to spend with Sarah,“ he said and you hummed. 

„And if I’m being completely honest there’s this girl I haven’t spend any time with in the last months and I really really miss her and her little pussy,“ he had leaned in, whispering the last words against your ear and you shivered. 

„Just her pussy?“ You mumbled back as you looked up at him and he smirked. 

„Nah, she’s the whole fucking deal. Should probably get off my own ass and finally as her out on a date instead of just fucking he brains out whenever she lets me,“ he said and you sucked your bottom lip in as you tried to hide your smile.

You looked away from him for a moment, gathering your thoughts, making up your mind. 

You needed him, and you needed him now. 

„Think you can show me where the bathroom is? I think I need a little refresh,“ you asked, hoping he would get the hint. And by the shit eating grin that came to his face, he did. 

„Of course. Follow me.“

„This… This is not the bathroom,“ you mumbled against his lips, his body pressing you against the door of what looked like a laundry room. 

„Less interruptions here,“ he hummed, hand slipping under your dress, finger hooking into your panties, pulling them down. You smiled, hands in his hair as you helped him get your panties off. 

„Been too damn long,“ he ran his hand up your leg, wrapping it behind his back, his other hand on your back puling you closer before he kissed you again, his tongue playing with yours as you reached down, unzipping his pants. 

„Missed me so much you gonna fuck me in some people’s laundry room? Want us to get caught?“ You grinned, hand pulling out his cock, surprised to find out he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Wrapping your palm around his cock you loved the deep groan he released against your lips. 

„Not gonna get caught if you keep quiet baby,“ he hooked your leg over his arm, hand on the door behind you as he stepped closer, opening you up for him. 

„Oh yeah, because I am the one who can’t keep quiet,“ you teased and he huffed a laugh, replacing your hand around his cock with his as he pumped himself and lined himself up. 

You wrapped one arm around his shoulders, standing only one one leg, trusting him to keep you there. 

Slowly he finally sank into you, his thick cock stretching you perfectly. 

„Fuckin’ perfect,“ he grunted, lips pressing against yours in a deep kiss when his cock filled you completely, both of you moaning quietly. 

„This ain’t gonna take long, sweetheart. Been to fuckin’ long,“ he grunted and you gasped when he moved, bottoming out completely before thrusting back inside. 

„Don’t care, just fuck me,“ you whimpered and he nodded against your lips, fucking up into you, skin slapping against skin every time he filled you. 

You sucked your bottom lip in, trying to keep quiet as he hammered into you, his lips now attached to your shoulder as he groaned into your skin. 

„Shit,“ he grunted just a couple of thrusts later and you felt him twitch as he came, spilling inside of you. Letting your head fall against the door you gasped for ear, having not cum but fuck it still felt good to just have him inside of you.

You were about to say something when he got on his knees, cock pulling out of you, your leg now hooked over his shoulders as his tongue replaced his cock, Joel moaning as he tasted you. 

„Oh fuck,“ you whimpered, hands now in his hair as he looked up at you. He grinned wickedly as he licked into you, licked his cum out of you. 

„We taste good together,“ he mumbled against your cunt, and you pulled at his hair with a quiet whine. 

„Shhh Baby. Don’t want anyone to hear what a little slut your are for me huh?“ He teased and you pulled his hair harder, making him moan as he continued to lick you. 

He sucked on your clit, tongue playing with it all while pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

„Joel,“ you moaned softly, your head falling back against the door as you finally came, gasping for air as your body shook in Joel’s hold. You melted against the door once you rode it out, limbs feeling like jello. He kissed your pussy one last time, before he set your leg down, keeping his arms around you as he got off of his knees. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him hard once he stood upright. 

„We do taste good together,“ you whispered and he chuckled. 

It was two hours later, nobody at the party had noticed the very explicit things you did in that laundry room, that Joel carried a very tired Charlotte towards your car, Sarah already sleeping in the backseat of his car. 

You opened the backseat door of your car for him and he carefully sat Charlotte down, putting the belt on for her. 

You were leaning against the back of your car as he closed the door and he walked towards you. 

„What are you doing next Friday?“ He asked, fingers tilting your chin up.

„Nothing. Charlotte is with her Dad,“ you said with a small smile. 

„And Sarah is at her Grandma’s for a sleepover,“ he hummed with a smirk. 

„Wanna go on a date with me?“ He asked and you grinned, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him softly. 

„I thought you’d never ask.“

[really-fanny-longbottom]

never yours

summary: azriel never regretted his decisions so much like he does right now.

warnings: angst (like a lot), fluff (also a lot because we need a balance)

pairings: azriel x reader, azriel x elain, lucien x reader

words: 6k

you were born in day court during the longest and the warmest day of the year — summer solstice.

even though it's not a custom to exchange gifts on that holiday, your parents always told you that you were their greatest gift and that the sun shined brighter that day like he knew that you would be entering this world very soon. 

your father was helion's best and longest friend, and he had a place in his court as his second in command and advisor. 

your mother was the lead healer of the court. she was one of the most powerful and talented healers of prythian, being a very close second to madja. 

due to your parents' jobs, you grew up in the day court palace and close to helion, who didn't just happen to be your high lord but also your godfather. 

your parents reconsider that maybe making helion your godfather had been a mistake because of how much he spoiled you.

on your 4th birthday, he gave you a black baby pegasus as a present, which you decided to name him blackjack.

when he discovered that you liked reading, he had a private library built in your room with all kinds of books.

when you were seven and heard an old male saying that females should only wear dresses, you only wore pants for the next three months and of course, helion made sure you had every type of pants at your disposal. 

when your parents tried to scold him, he just scoffed with his only response being, 'she's my goddaughter. what else am i supposed to do?' with a big grin plastered in his face.

you weren't helion's child, but he always treated you like one, and that never changed, especially after your parents' death. 

your favorite thing about your parents was their mating bond. after you learned that mates are rare and a blessing, it made every single thing about your parents' love even more unique and pure.

you saw first hand what true love is really like. you saw how much they loved, cared, supported, and protected each other.

you saw loyalty and honesty in their deepest forms. seeing your parents' mating bond made you wish to the stars for a mate, and that one day, you would be blessed enough to find him. 

but you also saw how deep a mating bond could go — you saw it first hand, too.

you saw it when your mother died after getting infected by a rare disease while trying to help her patients.

her death destroyed your father. the pain and the grief of losing your mother — his mate, and the love of his life were so big that your father followed her into the next life a few days later, so they could start their next journey together.

before he died, your father made helion promise him that he would take care of you, which he agreed without hesitation.

he became more protective of you. he couldn't stop thinking how unfair it was for you to lose your parents at such a young age, only eleven years old, when helion had them for centuries.

your godfather made sure to provide you with anything you needed from the best education to the best clothes, and when your healing powers start manifesting and you decide to follow your mother's steps, helion called in a favor to thesan to see if he could teach you himself.

the high lord of dawn was happy to accept, and so were you at the thought of having him as your teacher.

you moved to dawn court for a year where you learned everything about being a healer, not only with the high lord himself but also with his best healers. 

you became one of the best — talented, powerful, gifted, and wise. just like your mother.

madja was looking for an apprentice at the time you returned to day, and when she heard about your skills, she asked for you.

rhysand reached out to helion with madja's offer — you would be her apprentice, work in the clinic with her but you would also assist her if she ever needed to go to a patient's residence, and would learn everything she could teach you. 

it wasn't needed to convince you to agree. you had heard about madja and her healing, after thesan, she was the healer you wanted to work with the most, so of course you were more than happy to have a chance to have her as your mentor.

rhysand added that you would be welcome to stay in one of his personal residences, the house of wind, during your stay in velaris.

you were only supposed to stay in the night court for a year, but that was before you met the shadowsinger. 

however, despite wanting the apprenticeship more than anything, if you had known what would happen when you agreed to go to the night court, you would never have accepted the offer.

•••

azriel couldn't sleep.

no matter how much he tried, he couldn't. not with tomorrow so close, not when he knew what was waiting for him in the morning. 

the past was haunting him tonight, his thoughts hadn't stopped since he had been informed earlier of tomorrow's meeting.

so now, here he was, trying to keep his eyes open even though his body was protesting for him to do the opposite.

but he was fighting that need because every time he closed his eyes, you were all he saw.

your beautiful face with your sparkling eyes, your smooth hair, your pointy ears, your sweet voice, and your soft laughter.

you were haunting his thoughts like a punishment for all those years ago. 

so all he could do now was to sit on the edge of his balcony with his legs hanging off while waiting for the sun to be born, and remember how things used to be before he destroyed everything.

 •••

everything was perfect in the beginning.

velaris was beautiful, the people were kind, and the pastries were absolutely delicious. 

the only thing you actually missed, besides helion, was the warmth of the sun like no other court had but the day court — that was just the day citizen in you talking.

your apprenticeship was going amazing. you and madja had instantly connected, and you were learning so much.

two weeks later, you were already attending your own patients without supervision.

you really had a gift, and every time madja complimented your powers, you gave all the credits to your genes — to your mom.

it warmed your heart knowing that the mother had blessed you with this part of her. In this way, it felt like she was always with you.

the house of wind felt just like home, and you adjusted perfectly.

the inner circle had welcomed you with open arms, and you got along with everyone. they thought you and mor would be the closest of all, but they got a big surprise when it turned out to be you and azriel.

the shadowsinger was different from everyone you ever met.

everyone in day was so loud, extroverted and open.

but not him.

he was calm, reserved, and difficult to read, but with time, you ended up finding out that the two of you were more alike than you thought. you were able to go through the shell that azriel had so perfectly built around him over the centuries. 

a friendship was born.

every day, qzriel would fly you to the clinic and then back to the house. you explored velaris together and made your personal mission to try every single restaurant and bakery from the city of starlight. 

you walked along the sidra and even stopped once in a while to dance along the melodies that the musicians were playing. you would read together whether that was in the library, in your room, or in his. you even started training with him and sometimes, cassian.

you became each other's person. 

when a day at the clinic was hard or you would lose a patient, he was there to hug and comfort you, and you found yourself doing the same for him about his missions.

so you decided to take the next step and spoke about your parents' death, how much still affected you losing them.

and in that moment, azriel realized how much trust you put in him, so he decided to return it and opened about his past, his family, and his hands. you listened to every word, cleaned every tear, and held him for as long as he needed.

tou found yourself falling in love with him a little more day by day, and it only took you a few months to realize that you were completely in love.

the day the bond snapped was one of the happiest days of your life.

it happened during the most beautiful celebration in the night court — starfall.

your hair was tied in a long braid that reached down to your waist, decorating the braid were small yellow daylilies.

you were wearing a golden dress that fit perfectly against your sun-kissed skin. the dress had a slit on the left side that went up to the top of your thigh, a single strap held the dress on your right shoulder and when you turned around, whoever was behind you could have a perfect view of your naked back.

golden jewels rested on your ears and neck. 

you looked like a goddess — one blessed by the sun itself.

you were shining just like a day court citizen should.

azriel standed next to you in the balcony while gazing at the spirits passing.

both of your hands rested on the stone of the balcony, and when you went to adjust your hand, it brushed against azriel's.

at the new feeling, you looked up to find his eyes, only to see the shadowsinger already looking at you.

in that moment, with the touching of your hands and the meeting of your eyes, the world stopped.

your hands start interviewing, and everything else just disappeared.

it was just the two of you and the sound of your heartbeats. and then, a golden thread appeared and started tying your hearts and souls.

azriel held your free hand and pressed it against his own chest, right where his heart laid.

you followed his action, freeing your intertwined hands and putting his hand on your chest, above your heart. 

with the final loop of the golden thread around your hearts, azriel bent down and kissed you. 

that moment couldn't be more beautiful and magical even if you tried.

you had finally found the mate that you had wished to the stars all those years ago. 

everything was perfect.

you had everything you wanted and more.

you lived in a beautiful city that you learned to love and were starting to call it home. 

you had the job of your life, working alongside one of your idols. 

amazing friends that made you feel welcomed and part of a little family.

and finally, your mate, the male you were in love with, long before that beautiful and sacred golden thread.

everything was perfect.

but of course, nothing lasts forever.

and all of that disappeared when elain archeron came into the picture.

•••

ten years.

he couldn't believe that much time had passed. all those years without you.

it had been ten years since the last time he saw you.

ten years since he had heard something regarding you.

ten years since he had broken your heart.

and ten years since he had made the biggest mistake of his entire existence.

you had moved back to day court after that day, after what happened and after what he did. 

the high lord of day had forbidden azriel from seeing you and from trying to contact you in any way.

and months later, when the rumors of a certain shadowsinger flying above the palace in hopes to get a glimpse of you reached his ears, helion banned him from his court.

helion had always been a very charismatic and loving person.

he's kind, generous, and a very good friend. He gets along with almost everyone, always joking around and laughing. 

some people may say that he's the nicest and kindest high lord that prythian has ever seen. 

when problems arise, he always tries to find a solution to solve them or if a solution is not possible, a way to improve them.

but not this time.

not when it comes to you and his son — Lucien.

because your heart wasn't the only one to be shattered that day.

no.

lucien's heart was a victim, too.

so, from that moment, everything that helion did was to protect you and lucien.

to make sure that you felt safe, that you had space and time to heal.

azriel's banishment wasn't the only consequence from the events of that day.

that day also cost the alliance between the day court and the night court, and when the alliance fell apart, so did helion and rhysand's friendship.

but azriel wasn't the only one to blame for all of this.

elain archeron was guilty, too.

she, too, was banished from the day court and forbidden to contact lucien in any way.

but unlike azriel, elain's actions cause far more consequences than his. 

the autumn court followed the same decisions as the day court.

the banishment of azriel and elain and the prohibition of any kind of contact with lucien.

eris, now the new high lord of the autumn court after beron's death, didn't take lightly to what happened to his little brother. 

the two of them had reconnected after eris became high lord.

they talked through everything that had happened in the last centuries, made peace with their past, and decided to move forward together.

now, the brothers were inseparable and had the kind of relationship they had always wanted since they were younger.

so when eris heard what had happened, he considered those actions as a personal attack. 

he went as far as to offer lucien the opportunity to choose the blood duel, which his little brother refused, saying that all of this had already caused enough pain.

eris wasn't angry just because of lucien.

he was angry because of you, too.

you were the first person to give him the benefit of the doubt, the first one to not judge him and unlike the others you tried to get to know him, to be his friend and he let you. 

6ou were the first one to know the real eris, to know what he hid behind the mask.

therefore, you had a special place in his heart. even if you didn't share the same blood, you were part of his family.

but that didn't stop with day and autumn. spring joined them, too. 

despite everything that happened and the fact that they were still working on their friendship, tamlin's loyalty remained with lucien.

spring had been lucien's home for decades, and with that came a brotherhood between the two of them. 

needless to mention that jurian and vassa's loyalties also remained with lucien.

to everyone outside the situation, all of this may seem overreacted and exaggerated.

but to everyone involved, it's not.

after all, you and lucien almost died.

that's what happens when a mating bond is rejected.

•••

azriel couldn't believe things had turned out this way.

he was so sure that the cauldron was wrong, that he belonged with Elain.

three sisters for three brothers.

how more poetic could it be?

there were signals everywhere.

feyre with rhysand.

nesta with cassian.

elain with him.

elain wouldn't go close to lucien or talk to him, but she would sit next to him whether during dinners or on the couch, she would talk to him, and requested his company when she went to the garden or to the city.

even his shadows disappeared every time he was with her.

weren't those signals clear enough?

they were meant to be.

the cauldron was wrong. 

so azriel did what he thought was right.

he rejected the mating bond with you, and elain did the same with lucien. 

he never thought that the rejection of the bond would've almost cost your life.

that memory still gave him nightmares to this day.

how pale you turned, how you sank to your knees with your hand pressed against your chest, tears running free down your cheeks and muffled screams leaving your lips.

how much pain you had suffered and how he had been the cause of it.

how once, not that long ago, he had been the reason for your smiles, laughs, and giggles.

but that memory wasn't his.

it was rhysand's.

rhys, who had to go through your mind shields, and knock you unconscious so the pain would stop and that memory led him to another memory. 

the memory of that day and the things that had followed after he shattered your heart.

•••

azriel wasn't there the moment it happened.

no, he was too busy kissing elain after admitting how much they craved each other. 

and while he kissed elain, he felt that golden thread tying the two of you breaking and start slowly to disappear.

nothing could have prepared him for that last memory of you when he and elain were summoned to the river house a few hours later.

rhys had shown him not as a courtesy but as a lesson of how much his actions can affect others.

but you weren't just some other.

you were his mate — former mate.

azriel made a move to go find you.

he needed to explain it to you, and he needed you to understand, but you were already gone.

rhys told him that after you regained consciousness, lucien took you with him back to day court. 

lucien.

who you had become instantly friends with since the male's arrival in velaris.

you had treated him just like you were when you moved to the night court.

you showed him the city, the good restaurants and the best pastries, and also told him about Helion, now that he knew the high lord was his father and he was his heir.

you wanted him to feel like home, just like you did. 

when Azriel made his intentions clear to go to day and find you, rhys showed him the letter helion had sent.

the one that forbidden him from seeing you and from trying to contact you in any way.

the one that also had the same indications to elain regarding lucien.

and that if any of them tried to disobey his orders, there would be consequences.

azriel knew of protective the male was of you and that he would do anything to protect his family, so for a split second, azriel found himself fearing the high lord. 

rhysand also ordered them to stay away from the two of you, stating that they had already created enough problems and the night court could not afford a war with day. 

after they left his office, rhys sat down on his chair, trying to think how he was gonna solve this.

his mind kept going back to you and lucien. 

he was there when lucien came for you.

the red headed male was also pale and every few minutes, his hand would press to his chest in pain, his eyes were still red, probably from the tears he had shed.

rhys knew that Helion's letter wouldn't be the only one he would receive that day.

and like he was right, three more letters arrived during it.

first from autumn, then spring and the last one from the band of exiles. 

rhys passed a hand through his black hair and released a long sigh.

azriel and elain actions had just cost four allies to the night court.

•••

when you and lucien arrived in day, helion almost fell to his knees at your sight.

you were in lucien's arms, your eyes half open with tears still following down your cheeks.

one of your hands was against your chest, rubbing small circles in a way of trying to get rid of the pain.

lucien wasn't much better.

helion headed towards you and started examining you for injuries, but he found nothing.

when confusion made his way to his features, Lucien told him everything.

the confusion was replaced by anger, but the anger wasn't just directed towards the shadowsinger and the middle archeron sister.

some of it was towards himself. 

towards himself, because seeing you like that, helion felt that he had broken the promise he made to your dad and that this was his fault.

without giving time for any more thoughts to fill his mind, helion led lucien to your room, where the heir laid you on the bed.

you had fallen asleep in his arms with your cheeks still stained. 

lucien sat on the chair by your desk that was placed in front of your bed and said to Helion that he would stay with you.

helion gave him a firm nod, remembering that lucien didn't have a room yet in his palace, but he was about to fix that.

helion didn't waste any time after making sure that the two of you were okay for now. 

he called two of his servants to prepare a room for the young heir and went straight to his office where he wrote the letter and sent it to rhysand.

the next week's were a complicated ones but showed that time was the best healer. 

you no longer spend the days locked in your room alone.

you started to eat properly again and went back to work.

day by day, you were smiling more, sometimes making jokes.

lucien improved as well.

he decided to live in the day court for the time being and took his place as helion's second in command.

his relationship with helion was also getting stronger over time.

they were making up for the lost time.

but that wasn't the only thing that changed. your relationship with lucien also changed.

you got closer than ever, due to the fact you were the only ones who knew what the other was going through.

you found comfort in each other's presence and started spending more time together to the point where you became each other's favorite person. 

little by little, you start helping each other heal.

you started putting back together the pieces that had been broken, and the pain started slowly fading until the day that it didn't hurt anymore.

you two mended your hearts and souls, and for the first time, in a long time, you were full again.

your friendship grew, and so did your feelings for each other.

•••

azriel couldn't believe how wrong he had been.

because the cauldron wasn't wrong, it had never been wrong. 

he was the one who was wrong — right from the beginning.

he and elain had tried a relationship after yours and lucien's departure.

it worked for six months until it didn't.

azriel questioned himself why the relationship was starting to fail and why being with elain was starting to feel wrong.

it didn't take him too long to understand the reason. It was because she wasn't you.

he found out that the reason his shadows disappear every time he was with elain wasn't because they were destined but because they were with you. 

his shadows would leave him and elain to go find you, like they were stating that they wouldn't betray you, that they chose you.

on the day he broke up with elain, he found his shadows in your old room, which once was filled with colors, books, paintings, and light, and now was empty, dusty, and dark.

the shadows were swimming around your starfall dress — the one you wore on the day your bond had snapped.

the sight of the dress was painful, and he understood why it had been left behind.

azriel had tried to apologize.

he flew to day court and around the palace trying to find you but he never did and the next day helion sent a letter with his and elain's banishment, making autumn and spring to make the same decision. 

he understood why.

they were trying to protect you and lucien, and even though he didn't have the right, he just wanted to know if you were okay.

he asked rhys several times if he knew something about you, and thys revealed to him that you weren't talking to him or the other members of the inner circle either.

you had stated that it was too early and still very painful. 

so they respected your decision and kept their distance. 

that had caused azriel's guilt to grow even more.

how he wished for nesta to still have her powers so he could go back in time and repair all of this.

the light of the sun broke his thoughts.

the sun was finally making its appearance in the orange and yellow sky. 

azriel released a long breath and looked at the clock perched on his bedroom wall. 

the morning was here, and he was only two hours away from seeing you.

•••

the inner circle stood at the entrance of the day court palace. 

helion had lifted the banishment for this meeting with yours and lucien consent.

both of you said that it had been a long time and that the past should stay in the past, but that didn't mean you would be accepting any apologies today.

koschei was on the rise again, and prythian needed to come together once more.

right now, your past didn't matter.

the doors swung open, and the inner circle made their way inside.

a servant led them to the conference room located in the same hallway as helion's office on the first floor of the palace.

they sat at the marble table while the servant informed them, "the high lord will be here in a few minutes."

receiving a nod and a 'thank you' from rhysand, the servant left.

rhys started, "y/n and lucien will also be in this meeting. now, helion was nice enough to allow the two of you back here, so do not ruin this."

he finished while looking at azriel and elain, making them both nod their heads.

helion entered the room, and the inner circle raised from their seats.

the high lord of the day court made his way to the head of the table.

he turned to the side where rhys and his inner circle stood, offering his hand to rhys to shake it.

taken by surprise, rhys needed a few seconds to process what was happening before accepting his hand.

once they had shaken hands, everyone returned to their seats, but not before helion sent a disapproving look in azriel's and elain's direction.

a few minutes into the meeting, the door to the conference room opened again.

and there you were. 

you were dressed in day attire. a beautiful white dress that hugged your body, with your hair loosen and golden jewelry adorned your neck and ears.

lucien was by your side also wearing day attire, one that matched helion's, with your hand in his.

the inner circle held their breaths at your sight.

it had been ten years, but all the memories came flashing back to them. 

you looked the same, but when you two approached the table, that's when they saw it and shock spread all over their faces.

azriel couldn't believe what he was seeing.

he didn't know what he was expecting to see at this meeting, but it wasn't this.

it wasn't the golden ring that you and lucien had matching on your left hands informing him that you were married that shocked him.

it was the small and round belly that your free hand was resting on and the sweet vanilla scent that was filling the air — the scent of yours and lucien's baby. 

"apologies for our delay," lucien started, then looking in your direction with a smile continued "someone had a big appetite this morning," he ended with a laugh.

you looked at his gaze, a genuine smile on your lips "shut up," you whispered.

lucien grabs the back of your chair, pulling it to give you enough space to sit. "thank you, my love."

you said while watching him take the seat at your right, making you stay seated between him and Helion.

for the first time since you entered the room, you looked at the people in front of you. "night court," you greeted with a small smile. 

feyre was the first to say, "congratulations, y/n and lucien." 

lucien spoke this time. "thank you, feyre." he rested his hand on your belly.

"how far long are you?" rhysand's voice reached your ears.

looking in his direction, you answered, "23 weeks. lucien thinks it's a girl, but i think it's a boy," you added, making rhys smile.

"i always took you for a boy mom." amren's voice surprised you and couldn't help but smile at her words.

"congratulations to you two. the mother knows you deserve it." she finished with a genuine smile.

lucien looked at azriel and elain before directing his eyes to the ancient one "yes, we do. thank you, amren."

lucien paused for a second before turning in helion's direction and continuing. “let's not keep holding on to the meeting. please go on, father." 

helion proceeded with the meeting, but azriel didn't listen to a word that was said.

he couldn't tear his eyes from you and lucien. 

there was no doubt of the love you two shared, not when it was written in both of your eyes.

he didn't miss Lucien caresing your belly and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, passing his thumb over your jaw, and kissing your cheek after.

or how you rested your right hand on top of his on your belly while your left passed through his long red hair before resting around his shoulders and your smile while doing it.

what bigger proof did he need of your love if not for the baby you were carrying?

lucien's baby, he kept telling himself.

not his.

lucien's.

jealousy invaded his body, but there was nothing he could do.

he made his decision ten years ago, and now he had to live with it.

lost in his thoughts, he only realized the meeting was over when everyone started standing.

rhys and helion were finishing talking, and when the doors opened one more time, eris vanserra walked in with a little ginger boy in his arms.

he couldn't be more than five years old.

he looked exactly like lucien, except for his eyes — those were yours. 

azriel's heart sank, and it sank even more a few seconds later, when the little boy spotted you and lucien.

you already had a baby and you were about to have your second.

with a big smile appearing on his sweet face, the little boy almost shouted, "mommy! daddy!"

the boy jumped from his uncle's arms and ran to you.

you bend down and gather the happy boy in your arms before standing again and passing a hand through his ginger curls and saying, "hi, baby."

you peppered his face with kisses, making him laugh even more. "i thought you were having fun with your uncle," you said, looking at your brother in law.

your son pouted “uncle eris doesn't know how to play. he only wants to do the boring stuff, mommy.”

everyone in the room chuckled. eris gasped with fake hurt “excuse me?”

“elijah.” lucien chuckled and said to your son after joining your side “don't be rude to your uncle.” 

“but it’s the truth, daddy.” elijah hid his face on your neck. 

eris approached the little family with a smile directed to his nephew. "sorry. i tried to keep him entertained, but he just kept asking about you two." 

lucien noticed his older brother had paint and glitter on his white shirt and laughed at the thought of his son giving him a hard time before exclaiming, "it's alright, brother. we were about to leave anyway." 

the little boy settled in your arms and rested his head against yours, lucien started rubbing his back.

when the little boy caught the sight of his grandfather, he asked before anyone could stop him "grandpa, how was the meeting with the idiots from the night court?" 

the room went quiet, and a few gasps escaped.

at your son's words, you turned to look at Helion, now on mom's mood. "helion! how many times do we have to tell you not to speak like that in front of him?" 

the room erupted in laughter at your statement. 

the air became lighter, and helion put his hands in surrender, promising you that it wouldn't happen again. 

you gave him an incredulous look, saying that you didn't believe him.

your son wrapped his tiny arms around your neck and rested his head on your shoulder with a yawn leaving his lips. 

you rubbed your son's back while speaking to him. "C'mon, elijah. let's leave before your grandfather comes up with a new bad word for you to learn." 

“bad grandpa” your son agreed with you while earning new chuckles from the night court. 

even though he was trying to hold his smile, azriel failed. your son was too adorable.

you turned your gaze to the inner circle and gave them a smile. "it was good to see you all." 

"you too, y/n. i missed you." cassian replied.

your smile stretched before telling him, "i missed you too, cass." 

the nickname made his heart ache — maybe there's still a chance for you to reconnect.

you turned to look behind you, meeting your husband's eyes "you're coming, lu?" 

a pink blush made its way to lucien's cheeks "of course, my love."

the heir looked at his father, "we'll see you at dinner, father. night court." he said, giving the inner circle a small nod before joining you and wrapping his arm around your waist and giving a kiss to your now sleeping son.

amren spoke again “see i told you were a boy mom.”

“you're right. if this baby happens to be a boy as well, i'm gonna be in trouble.” you replied with an arm holding your son and while the other made its way to your belly.

“no, you're not. you're gonna be great.” nesta spoke, a genuine smile on her lips “we already can see you are.” she gestured to the little boy sleeping in your arms. 

“thank you, nes.” you were grateful for her words.

on your way out, you met azriel's eyes, but you couldn't find the words, so you simply gave him a nod with a small smile, and azriel returned the gesture.

when the door closed, amren was the first to break the silence "well, the mother has a sense of humor." 

everyone turned to look at her, but she focused her gaze on azriel and elain.

"you rejected them because you believed you belonged with one another only for your relationship to fail six months later. and now," she released a laugh, "your former mates found their way towards each other. fell in love, got married, have a son, and have another baby on the way. ironic isn't it?" she said with the feline smile returning to her lips. 

it was helion who spoke next, amusement all over his face, "indeed. i guess karma is a bitch."

he sent a disapproving look one more time in the direction of the two people who almost cost him his family before exiting the room.

amren's and Helion's words stung, but azriel knew it was nothing but the truth. He realized in that moment that despite your life now and how things turned out, you would never forgive him.

he had lost you forever, and now he had to live with regret for the rest of his life.

after all, you were no longer his. 

a/n: thank you for reading! i'm thinking in making a general taglist so if you wish to be added let me know.

masterlist

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[fandomizedtrash]

Worthy of an Emperor

Summary: When abundantly worshipped, the Gods would send one of their own to the leaders of Rome as a thank you and reward for their loyalty. As a daughter of Jupiter, you would have never assumed that one day, your peaceful life would be altered forever, as your father sees you as the perfect gift, and bride-to-be for a certain Roman emperor.  (Emperor Geta x daughter of Jupiter!reader)

warnings: Smut, 18+, dubcon, (if you squint), Historical inaccuracies, mythological inaccuracies (come on y'all, who saw this movie for the history), arranged marriage. 

Word count: 2.2k

REQUESTS OPEN

I have not written a fanfic in a very VERY long time so I might be a little rusty. Nonetheless, enjoy!

As a demi-god, your life was more lavish than most young women. Your mother, the daughter of a senator, was seduced by the God many years ago resulting in your conception. And since your birth, a life at court and amongst the most powerful families and men in Rome has been your world. 

Ever since you came of age, nearly every man you passed gazed in your direction. Enchanted by your divinity. Not that you paid it much mind, you were preoccupied with texts, maps, scrolls, and the animals that surrounded the palace. Whatever path your future held was not one that worried you or one you particularly thought about. As long as you had your freedom, what was there to stress about? 

Which is why when your father Jupiter, king of the Gods told you that you were to marry one of the twin Emperors of Rome, you almost laughed in his face. 

“Tell me you are joking?” It was a warm spring day, Summer just on the horizon, while crouching down, you tending to your plants and flowers in the palace garden, your father shot down from the heaven’s in a bolt of lightning startling you. 

“I am afraid I am not. Although I cannot imagine why such news would upset you. Being the bride to one of the most powerful men in all of the Empire.” Your father explained, lecturing you as if you were a child.

“You don’t know Emperor Geta the way I do.” You replied grimly, focusing again at the flora in front of you.

Your contact with the infamous red haired tyrant and his brother has been limited. The few times you were in his vicinity were not particularly found moments. Most of which included the terrible Gladiator tournaments. Spectacles of senseless violence in your opinion. The Emperors would shout and scream and whatever poor souls were sent to fight to the death. The knowledge that he took enjoyment from such brutality gave you everything you needed to know about him. 

What you didn’t know however, was that during these games, the Emperor’s eyes would often wander to search for you in the crowd. It was not a particularly difficult task. You quite literally shined out amongst the mortal spectators, a sight more pleasing than the gory entertainment provided.

During one particular game, as your eyes scanned the box of senators and generals, attempting to distract yourself from the bloody battles below, your vision locked with him. He, like all men who were fortunate enough to gaze upon you, became mesmerized. Your soft skin, and graceful body made Geta dig his nails in the arms of his regal chair at his desire to have you. 

“The Emperor has built me a new temple and has been consistently leaving offerings, being my most faithly worshiper, and in return I have decided to gift him the best thing a God can offer a mortal.”

At this, you shot up from your crouched position. “I am not a present to be offered.” You declared. “I don’t care if he built you a million temples, I would never marry such a man.” Anyone would be crazy to challenge a proclamation from a God, much less the king of them all. But you weren’t just anyone. Divine blood ran through your veins, and your fate would not be bound to a man as sadistic as him. 

“You forget that you don’t have a say in this matter. I can think of worse lives than one as the empress of Rome.” 

“Please.” Your anger had turned to desperation. “I am sure there are other ways to bless and reward Emperor Geta.” 

Your father slowly started walking towards you as he spoke. “I have already promised the Emperor that you are to be his. And I am not one to turn back on an oath.” 

You have never experienced such anger. Promising such a thing before even consulting with you. But a promise from God was as good as done. 

“You need not fret about Geta. He wouldn’t dare hurt a daughter of Jupiter.” You scoffed. Of course your safety was in good hands, but that meant nothing for your happiness. 

“I do hope your sentiment changes. I heard that the wedding is to be the grandest Rome has ever seen.” Another woman would have been bouncing up and down from glee. What you would give to trade places with her. 

“You are to be formally presented to the Emperor tonight. Do make a good impression.” It was the last words your father spoke before a flash of lightning whisked him away to the heavens, leaving you and your racing thoughts alone. 

***

You were escorted by your mother to the main hall where your husband-to-be stood there waiting. Upon hearing the news of your engagement, one might have thought it would be her to marry the emperor. 

“To think that my own girl will soon be the empress of Rome.” She pressed her hand to her heart at the sentiment. “Gods know you were meant for such a life.” 

Your heart was pounding as you made your way to the thrones. Eyes fighting back tears as your destiny awaits you. 

“Emperors.” Your mother began, “may I present my daughter, y/n.” She practically shoved you in front of her, placing you front and center before the twin tyrants. 

“Imperators.” You bowed your head softly at a feeble attempt to humble yourself. 

Geta immediately shot up from his seat to approach you. Eager to get his hands on his eventual wife. 

Taking several paces forward, you and the emperor’s face stood mere inches away from yours as his eyes scanned your face and body, relishing the sight in front of him. 

“Oh yes, she will do quite nicely.” He uttered, sending a nervous chill up your spine. “Your father spoke far too little of how beautiful you are. But there are not enough offerings in the world to thank Jupiter for such a bride. I certainly look forward to having you by my side y/n.” His brown eyes left one more piercing gaze into yours before turning away with the rest of his advisors and senators. 

You let your eyes close as you took a deep breath trying to calm your nerves. 

He wouldn’t dare hurt me. You reminded yourself. You are a daughter of Jupiter, you are part God, there is no future that awaits you that you cannot handle.

***

Everything happened so fast. Within two days, your once peaceful life had turned to non stop preparations for the upcoming nuptials. 

Even you had to admit, the dress given to you was lovely. Chosen by Geta himself, the handmaiden proclaimed as she adorned you in luxurious fabrics and gold. 

You hardly recognized your reflection staring back at you in the mirror. Despite you heritage, you never felt particularly better or more deserving than any other young Roman women. Or your life would be anything too out of the ordinary for a high born.

Looking back now, what a fool you have been. Your whole life, you have been a pawn in-waiting for the fastest man who had the resources to claim a divine bride. And who other than one of the emperors himself. 

The next thing you knew, vows were spoken, music was playing, and every person around you was smiling and laughing, drunk off the finest wines in the Empire. 

“You have hardly touched your food empress.” Geta spoke, drawing attention to the final word of his sentence. 

“I am not a hungry imperator.” You responded, voice sounding as neutral as possible. 

“We are married now, love. Geta will suffice.” 

Unexpectedly. He placed his ringed hand on top of yours. “I do hope that your mother prepared you well for what to expect as a new wife.”

You shuddered as your muscles clenched. Of course you knew, your mother, along with the other ladies at court well explained to you what happens on a wedding night. But with the unexpectedness of it all and the hectic planning, the thought barely crossed your mind. 

Turning to face him finally, you managed to croak out a response. “I am aware.”  

“Splendid.” Geta squeezed your hand fervently. “I hope you know how lucky I am to have you as a bride.” 

“Why me?” You blurted out. It was impossible to keep the question inside of you. “You could have had anyone. Someone to strengthen the growth of the Empire. Just because of my blood does not mean I will serve any use to you or Rome.” Your new husband smirked arrogantly. 

“Our soldiers and generals are stronger than you think. I didn’t marry you for the sake of the Empire. We are already unstoppable. The second I laid my eyes on you in the Colosseum I knew I had to have you. Why do you think I built that damn temple in the first place? For fun?” Your breath got caught in your throat. 

“Caracalla is throwing a fit at the fact that I get to have a divine bride.” He laughed, clearly amused with himself. 

“To think that you are now all mine.” Before you knew it, he smashed his warm lips onto yours in a feaverent kiss.  

“Enjoy the festivities my love.” He broke off the contact suddenly leaving you gasping in shock before turning to you one last time. “I promise what awaits you tonight will be even better.” 

***

It was a warm night, but that did nothing to stop your chills. The party was still in full swing in the halls of the palace, but Geta was growing impatient to have you all to himself, alone. 

You looked out the window and onto the streets. What you would give to be just an ordinary girl, but ordinary was never meant for you. 

“Come here my love.” Geta grabbed your hand and made you face towards him. Like before, he pulled you in for another kiss, this one deeper, more intense, more needy. 

As the kiss continued, Geta started to slowly strip away your clothes. His hands tugged at the ropes holding up your gown and it fell to your feet, leaving you completely exposed.

Once naked, he placed his hand on the back of your neck, lightly squeezing it. “All mine.” His gaze continued to relish the sight of you.  

“Please.” You began. What you were pleading for, you didn’t know, but from what you have seen of the emperor, it was anyone’s guess what he was capable of. 

“Don’t worry, empress, I will be gentle.” guiding you towards the bed, you laid down on the soft mattress, eyes shut so tight you felt they might never open. Perhaps you would be able to find some pleasure in this. From the few whispers you were able to snatch, the ladies of the palace spoke of great satisfaction and delight of their intimate moments with lovers and husbands. While the conditions are not to your liking, maybe there is something to be enjoyed. 

At the foot of the bed, you could hear Geta’s heavy fabrics drop to the ground. A second later, he started climbing on top of you. 

“There is no need to worry.” He whispered in your ear. “You are half god after all, I have every intention of treating you as such.” 

His hands made their way down as his thumb started rubbing your clit gently. 

A moan escaped your lips at the sensation. For the first time this night, your body started to relax, taking in the pleasurable sensation as your new husband had his way with you. 

He soon stopped and his fingers traveled lower, towards your entrance as he slid a finger in and out tortuously. 

“Wet already are we?” His question needed no response. Geta was clearly amused at his once reluctant bride now softly moaning right under him. 

Once you finally felt adjusted, he slid a second finger in without warning, stretching you out even more as his pace continued while sounds of pleasure left your mouth. It felt like an eternity when he finally stopped.

“I’ve waited long enough to have you, I believe my patience has finally run out."

You dared to open your eyes and swallowed at the sight of his erect manhood, not knowing if your body was capable of consuming such a thing. 

Before you had any time to prepare yourself, Geta already started making his way inside of you. 

In one excruciatingly slow motion, the flaming haired emperor stretched you out to the limit as you arched your back. 

Your eyes clenched shut again, trying to adjust to his size. His thrusts were slow, but the pain slowly faded away, replaced by a building pressuring in your sensitive area. 

The thrusts started to pick up pace as you let out another groan. Soon, you felt his fingers touch your chin and lift it upwards.

“Look at me y/n.” He pleaded.

Your eyelids softened, but you did not fully open them, still unwilling to look at Geta in the eyes. 

“Please.” His voice now desperate. Gone was the sadistic emperor you once knew. 

At that, you finally opened your eyes and stared into his dark orbs. His movements became more wild, and the building pressure inside of you reached its climax as you released a sob of relief. 

Geta followed soon after, collapsing on top of you as warm fluids filled your insides. 

You painted, trying to come down from the incredible high you just experienced. 

“I know you don’t love me.” Your husband said, voice a bit dry upon finishing the consummation. “But maybe one day you will.”