#modern banister

[aprilsnardini]

Dallas Foyer Mudroom Large modern entryway with a dark wood floor, gray walls, and a black front door.

[toyastales]

Designed by architect Eric Lloyd Wright

[brasskingfisher]

I REALLY want to see a batman comic where a while bunch of thugs/goons try robbing Wayne Manor (thinking 'the dude's SUPER rich and who's going to stop them? Even if the guy *is* jacked, it's just him, some old guy, and *maybe* an assortment of kids. How much of threat could they possibly pose to all of us?') and Alfred just goes full Rambo and proceeds to kill them ALL with elaborate home alone style booby traps.

Next morning Alfred's talking to someone from the GCPD and explaining how 20+ would be theives have ALL suffered fatal accidents and Bruce is just there glowering at him since he knows Alfred's full of shit but can't say anything in front of the cops who think he's pissed off because he's found out he's been living in a death trap.

Booster Gold #12

[doo-wop-city]

Summertime at Jolly Roger, Part 1

[f-airchilds]

Los Angeles Mudroom Front Door

Inspiration for a large contemporary travertine floor entryway remodel with white walls and a glass front door

[incorrect-hakuouki]

Deck Roof Extensions A sizable transitional backyard deck with a fire pit and a roof extension is an example.

[unstablexbalor]

Foyer - Mudroom Inspiration for a mid-sized transitional dark wood floor and brown floor entryway remodel with gray walls and a black front door

[jamesmdavisson]

Roof Extensions Patio (Los Angeles)

[monikabose]

Transitional Deck - Roof Extensions

[jazzypaophotography]

Family Room Loft-Style

[brokenmenswhore]

the sink | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: modern!aegon x fem!reader

summary (i am so shit at writing summaries): at a party, y/n sees aegon in a compromising position

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), choking, drinking, rough sex, aegon is a lil mean <3

────── ☾ ──────

Parties were never really your scene. You told your best friend, Heleana, that you didn’t really want to go, but she convinced you that you were wasting your chance at university experiences by sitting in your dorm, and she was right. You wouldn’t be in university forever, and you could only truly live right now.

Her brother, Aegon, was campus-renowned for his parties. Heleana & Aegon lived in a rather large mansion off-campus, seeing no need to move onsite and leave such a lavish place, and it was close enough to drive.

You and Aegon never got along. He was arrogant, a playboy, and had no care for his studies or his sister. All he wanted to do was fuck about and drink, and he didn’t like that you gave him attitude whenever he said something particularly ghastly, but you didn’t care. You didn’t like him and you didn’t care if he knew it. You could handle your own with him, and everything he did annoyed you.

You personally hated driving to Heleana’s house. The roundabout driveway only allowed a certain number of cars, and had no definitive parking spaces. It was a free for all, as you told her the second you walked through the door.

“Oh hush, I’m just glad you came,” Heleana smiled, “come! Drinks are in the kitchen.”

Heleana’s house never failed to astound you. You had been here several times, having been close with Heleana for a few years, and still, you didn’t know which room was which. If she asked you to retrieve anything from a specific room upstairs, you’d end up lost.

You followed suit, downing a good portion of a beer the second it was handed to you.

“Eager, are we?” Heleana laughed.

“Oh come on!” you retorted, “you said it yourself, I never get out. Well, I’m out, and I’m not gonna waste it!”

Heleana sipped her beer and giggled at your enthusiasm. “Maybe you should channel that energy into, I don’t know, a boy?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “And why would I do that?”

“You’ve been so wound up and stressed from exams lately, I just think you could use an outlet! Sue me.”

You laughed, not responding as a method of moving on from the subject.

“Fine,” Heleana broke the silence, “but you’re dancing with me.”

���No, I-“

“You’re dancing!”

With that, Heleana pulled you into the living room, forcing you to dance with her. You didn’t mind too much, eventually having fun with the feeling of dancing and the slight buzz in your brain. After a few hours of dancing and mingling, you felt your energy and social battery depleting. Heleana, ever so attentive, noticed.

“Why don’t you go get some air?” she asked.

“There’s a million people outside, Hel,” you responded, “I honestly don’t think it would make a difference.”

“Why don’t you head up to my room then? No one is allowed upstairs. Well, except Aegon, because he lives here, but he’s probably out by the pool drunk or something.”

You smiled at her. “Thanks, Hel.”

You made your way up the stairs, quickly remembering that you had absolutely no idea where you were going. You climbed back down a few steps, looking over the banister to try to find Heleana so you could ask her which room was hers again, but it was to no avail. It would be impossible to find her in this crowd.

I’ve been here a thousand times, you thought, I can find my way to her room, it really can’t be that hard, and I’m really not that drunk.

You turned down the first hallway you spotted, trying to retrace your steps from the last few times you’d been in the house, still denying any sense of drunkenness you felt. You decided on a door you thought may be right, and opened it.

It was not Heleana’s room.

Aegon had his face buried in between a girl’s legs, her body seated on the bathroom sink as he kneeled on the floor, her fingers in his hair. You couldn’t move for a second, completely bewildered by the sight in front of you, as the girl let out a particularly filthy moan. You caught yourself and turned to leave, but right when you clicked the door shut, it swung open again.

“What the fuck are you- oh, it’s just you. Fucks sake, I thought she had a boyfriend that was catching us or something. Don’t scare me like that, Y/N,” Aegon said, chin glistening with wetness.

“That’s very ethical of you, sleeping with someone you know is taken,” you replied, your distaste for him evident in your tone, “I was just looking for Heleana’s room. Sorry.”

“On the other side of the house?”

You looked at Aegon confused, signaling to him that you genuinely had no idea you were in the wrong place.

“Tell me, Y/N,” he started, “have you always looked that fucking good in black?”

Your eyes widened. You had no idea what to say, and based on his breath, he was pretty drunk.

“I- I don’t- what?”

Aegon stepped closer to you, “did you enjoy the show, at least?”

He was a bit too close for a comfortable conversation, and you refused to be embarrassed by Aegon Targaryen of all people. “Isn’t she still in there? Least you could do is finish her off.”

“Who said I didn’t?”

“I don’t have time for this, Aegon,” you sighed, beginning to walk away, but he trapped you in between his body and the wall with his arm.

“Maybe I would be more eager to get back in there if she looked half as good as you do right now.”

“Don’t piss me off,” you spat, “I’m really not in the mood for your shit.”

Aegon pouted. “My ‘shit’ is part of my charm.”

“What charm?” you bounced back.

“You don’t think I’m charming? Wow, Y/N, I’m hurt. Like, genuinely, that cut down to my soul.”

“Aegon, you’re drunk. Now are you just gonna hold me hostage against this wall forever or are you gonna let me leave?”

Aegon looked at you, intently, as if contemplating his options.

“You really want me to go back in there?”

You looked up at him, frustrated and confused. “Why the hell would I care what you do?”

Aegon looked at you for a brief moment before nodding his head, removing his arm from the wall and gesturing you away.

“Thank you,” you said, turning your back to him and walking away.

Heleana reached the top of the staircase at that very moment. “Hey!” she called out, “I was just coming to check in on you.”

“I got lost,” you admitted.

“My god, Y/N,” she laughed, taking your hand and guiding you to her bedroom.

You and Heleana sat on her bed, sobering up and watching movies for a few hours.

“Would you be okay if I crashed here?” you asked her, “I still feel like shit.”

“Of course,” she smiled, “I keep an extra toothbrush in the hallway bathroom just in case.”

“Thank you. I just wish I thought of this earlier, I’d be more prepared.”

“Give me a minute,” Heleana said, leaving you alone in her bedroom.

She returned a few minutes later with a tee shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.

“What the fuck do you want me to do with those?” you asked.

“Aemond is away with his friends somewhere in Europe right now, so he won’t miss them.”

“I’m not wearing your brother’s clothes.”

“Oh, whatever! He’s a giant, they’ll be plenty baggy and comfortable. Plus, he’s not Aegon, you can actually trust that his clothes get washed properly.”

You sighed. You didn’t want to spend the night in what you had on, and no one would ever know you took his clothes anyway. “Fine, but you’re putting them back exactly the way you found them in the morning.”

“Deal!” Heleana smiled, jumping back on the bed as you changed.

The night winded down, and by around three in the morning, Heleana was fast asleep. You took the opportunity to run to the bathroom and get ready for bed.

You stood in front of the mirror, brushing your teeth and then your hair until all the knots were out. Mid-brush, the bathroom door was violently swung open.

“SHIT! For fucks sake,” Aegon almost screamed, placing a hand over his heart to calm down the startled beating, “what the fuck are you still doing here?”

“Staying over, not that it’s your business.”

Aegon rubbed his eyes as if he just woke up and was adjusting to the light, but you could tell he’d not yet gone to sleep. He scanned you up and down. “Are you wearing my brother’s clothes?” he asked.

You sighed, continuing your routine and not giving him any glances. “Shut up, I didn’t bring any clothes.”

“So you stole my brother’s?”

You turned to him, annoyed that he was still talking to you. “technically your sister stole them for me. I didn’t bring any of my own, and I can’t fit into Heleana’s. Why am I even telling you this? You don’t care and I don’t like you.”

Aegon’s bottom lip jutted out as he inched closer to you, “now why don’t you like me?”

You put the brush down in defeat. “Aegon, it’s three in the morning.”

“And?”

You huffed, “and it’s too late for me to have to deal with you.”

Aegon just looked at you. You waited for him to say or do anything, and when you realized he had no intention of moving, you started to make your way out of the bathroom. That’s when Aegon grabbed you by your waist and slammed you onto the bathroom sink.

“What the fuck, Aegon? Let me down,” you said, trying not to lose your temper as he held you down on the sink.

“You know I asked you a question earlier,” he spoke, voice low and lips close to yours, “and you never answered it.”

“Aegon, I don’t care, let me down.”

“Did you enjoy the show?”

You met his eyes. “The show that I watched for 3 seconds before leaving? The show I didn’t even try to watch, but saw accidentally? Yes, Aegon, how entertaining it was briefly watching you perpetuate cheating.”

“Would it kill you to just be nice to me?”

The question caught you off guard, and admittedly struck a nerve in your heart. He sounded so sincere, so genuine, like he wasn’t trying to play a game or garner a reaction. He truly wanted to know why you were always so sharp with him.

Thinking about it, he had never done anything personally to you. He never hurt anyone, except maybe the girls he never called in the morning, he just didn’t exhibit behavior that you ever would, but none of it was malicious. He just came off like a cocky and overly confident rich kid, but he never knew how to be anything else.

“You’re right,” you said, surprising Aegon, “I’m sorry, I know I can be really pissy with you. I don’t want to be mean to you, you’re just so good at getting under my skin. Also, you’ve ghosted three of my friends, but still, I’m sorry.”

Aegon stared into your eyes for what felt like an eternity.

“You don’t like me because I’ve ghosted your friends?”

“No, Aegon, that’s not the poin-“ you bowed your head, “you’re impossible.”

“So tell me why you don’t like me.”

“I don’t know.”

“You do know.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t!” you exclaimed, “I don’t even actually hate you!”

Aegon smiled, “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” You were beginning to get frustrated.

“You like me.”

You scoffed. “Quite the contrary, no offense.”

Aegon tsked, “no no no, I think you like me. I think you like me like me. I think you wish you were sitting in this exact spot a few hours ago when you walked into the ‘wrong room.’”

You threw your head back, “I really was looking for Heleana’s room!”

“Admit it,” he said.

“There’s nothing to admit, you narcissist.”

Suddenly his demeanor changed. He got even closer to you, placing his torso in between your legs, lips almost touching yours. “Admit. It.”

It was a demand, not a request. His eyes were dark and his tone was lower than you’d ever heard it.

“Or what?”

Aegon growled. “or I’ll fuck it out of you.”

Your breathing stuttered.

You were undeniably attracted to him. You always had been, he was gorgeous. Part of your hatred came from jealousy when you would see him with other girls, but you also knew he was a player and fucked around, so you tried your best to turn it off by just fighting him at every turn. However, now, it was early in the morning and late at night all at once, both of your buzzes had faded, and your emotions were overflowing.

“So do it.”

Aegon slammed his lips onto yours, enveloping you into a heated kiss, one of his hands snaking through your hair and pulling roughly until your head was forced back so he could have easier access to your neck. He sucked at a sweet spot right underneath your earlobe, eliciting a whimper from you.

“Shut up,” he demanded.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s three in the morning and my sister is home, so shut up.”

“I barely made any noise,” you retorted.

Aegon paused his assault on your neck to look at you, pulling at your hair roughly. “Stop. Talking.”

Looking into his eyes, you knew it would be better to obey than to continue your back and forth, so you did your best to stay quiet.

Aegon began to kiss lower and lower, eventually kneeling in front of you just as you had seen him before. He began tugging at the waistband of the boxer shorts you were wearing, “I can’t believe you’re wearing his fucking clothes, you could just be wearing mine.”

You giggled, and then acted like you didn’t make any noise, so as to avoid Aegon’s temper.

“Something funny?” he asked, catching it.

“You jealous or something?”

Aegon tore the boxer shorts off of you, not even telling you to lift your hips, causing you to almost fall off the sink from the force.

“Aegon!”

“Shouldn’t be wearing his clothes,” he spoke, almost more to himself than to you as he quite literally tore the tee shirt off of your body, one jagged rip in the middle of the design on the front, “you’re not fucking his.”

You looked up at him, shocked, “Aegon! What the fuck am I supposed to tell Heleana happened to this shirt? I’m clumsy, but I’m not that clumsy!”

“You could always tell her the truth,” Aegon smiled, “or better yet, tell Aemond. Make sure he knows you’re not his.”

You sighed at his jealousy. “I really don’t think he’s under the impression that I’m his, Aeg, I really just needed clothes for the night.”

Aegon’s jealousy was overshadowed by your use of a nickname. He immediately dropped back down to his knees, ripping your underwear in half just as he did the shirt.

“Aegon! I don’t have any other clothes with me!”

He slapped your thighs as a warning to open them wider, “shut up, you’ll just wear mine.”

“I really dont thi-“ your words were cut off by a sharp inhale as Aegon pressed his lips to your clit, tongue drawing circles and swirling around the bud as he looked up at you.

A pang of jealousy hit you as you remembered that he was in this exact position with someone else mere hours ago. This moment wasn’t special to him. You were just another one of his girls.

“Aeg, wait-“

Aegon immediately stopped at your protest. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no, I just- I can’t do this right now.”

Aegon looked concerned. “What happened? Did I do something wrong? Was it something I said?”

You attempted to stop his train of thought before it derailed, “no! No, it isn’t you, it’s just-“

“It’s just you just saw this show with someone else?” he questioned, standing to meet your eye level.

“I really don’t just want to be a one off type of person. I’m sorry,” you said, feeling guilty for stopping.

“Hey, hey,” he said, sweetly capturing your attention, “this is not the same situation as it was earlier today. You aren’t just a random one off. I literally left that girl in here the second I saw you. The only reason I was in that situation was because I was all worked up from seeing you in that fucking dress earlier,” he admitted.

“You were not.”

He nodded his head, “did I not make it obvious enough to you when I told you you looked good in black?”

You threw your hands up, “clearly I thought you were fucking with me.”

“I wasn’t fucking with you,” he assured you, “now if you don’t mind, can I get back to actually fucking you?”

You pulled him in for a kiss before he dropped to his knees yet again, tongue immediately finding its place on your bud.

He traced a finger around your soaked hole, staring up at you as he slid one finger inside of you, watching you throw your head back and attempt to breathe through the pleasure, desperately trying not to make a noise.

Without warning, he added a second finger, pumping both in and out of you as his tongue continued to swirl and flick at your bud. Your breathing was becoming erratic, and you fought with everything in you to hold back moaning.

Aegon curled his fingers, hitting that sweet spot inside of you, causing you to grip his hair and push his face closer into you. He moaned at the sensation, sending shivers up your body. You whined and whimpered as quietly as you could as he continued to work you until you started squeezing his fingers.

Before you could come, he ceased all action, standing up and meeting your eyes again. He put both fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean before giving you a wet kiss, the feeling of your slick still on his lips. The feeling nearly made him feral, deepening the kiss as he pulled his own boxers down to free his cock. Precum was already leaking from the tip at only the sight of what his fingers did to you. He used one hand to begin to stroke himself as the other held the back of your head, pressing you even harder into the desperate kiss.

You reached between your bodies, gripping his cock and moving his hand away. You began to stroke him, causing his hips to jolt and a whine to leave his lips and break the kiss.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he sighed, barely able to get the shaky sentence out.

You kissed him as a response. You lined his tip up with your entrance, looking at him and nodding up and down to signal that you were ready. Before he pushed in, you grabbed his face, saying, “I’m not a virgin, you know. You don’t have to be nice.”

Aegon growled, slamming his entire length into you without giving you time to adjust. You threw your head back and he pulled completely out before slamming into you again, each violent thrust causing your entire body to snap backward.

“Fuck,” he groaned, setting a steady pace.

You continued to whine and moan, unable to mute or quiet yourself.

“Shut up, Y/N,” Aegon warned.

“C- can’t,” was all you could get out, his cock stretching your walls at a violent rate.

“I don’t care,” he spat, almost mean, “I said shut up.”

He then snaked an arm between your bodies, rubbing circles onto your clit as he fucked you hard. Your body gave out, and you fell backward, head leaning against the mirror as Aegon pulled your hips closer to the edge of the sink so he could fuck you deeper.

“Fuck!” you cried out, completely losing any control you had over yourself.

Aegon moved his hand from your clit to your mouth, covering it and forcing you to remain quiet.

He continued to fuck you hard, your body still being roughly pushed harder into the sink and mirror with every thrust. With his hand pressed against your mouth, your head was now pressed hard against the mirror, meaning you were unable to move.

The hand that wasn’t around your mouth made it’s way to your waist, gripping you as Aegon’s thrusts became faster and faster.

He moved his hand from your mouth to your throat. “Tell me how it feels.”

You whined. “G- good, it’s- ah! It’s g-“

He squeezed your throat. “I know you can use your words better than that, angel.”

“It feels good, so good,” you forced out.

“Good girl,” Aegon praised, never moving his hand from your throat as he continued to fuck into you.

“Aeg, I-“

The nickname made him feral. He began thrusting into you at an unholy pace, both hands moving to your shoulders to keep you speared onto his cock as he pistoned in and out of you harshly.

“You gonna come?” he asked you.

“Y- yes, Aeg, I-“

“Beg me.”

You whimpered, barely able to think or speak. Apparently your silence was too long for Aegon.

“Beg. Me.”

“Please, Aeg, p-please l-let me come, Aegon, please-“

He moved a hand back in between your bodies, rubbing your clit again as your walls squeezed his cock. You nearly screamed his name as you came, his only choice to swallow your moans with his mouth, kissing you through your high, still chasing his own.

It was almost overstimulating, him still thrusting into you in desperate need of his own high as you were attempting to come down from yours.

“Aegon,” you whined.

“Mhm,” he moaned in response.

“Please come for me,” you pleaded in the most seductive voice you could manage.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he barked.

You grabbed his face in your hands, forcing his eyes to meet yours, “Aeg, fuck- please-“

That was all it took for him to come undone, unloading inside of you before pressing his forehead to yours to catch his breath.

You could fill indents in the back of your thighs from the edge of the sink. Once he calmed down and pulled out of you, he began to put his clothes back on, while you stayed seated, naked, on the sink.

“You just gonna stay there?” he quipped.

You gestured to Aemond’s ripped up clothes on the floor, “You gonna give me your clothes or what?”

[chosok-amo]

Hi suki🫶 may i request umemiya taking care of sick reader? I read your satosugu x reader, and i wonder what umemiya will do😋 thank you

NASTY FEVER : UMEMIYA HAJIME

you’ve been mia since yesterday, making your boyfriend worried. when umemiya comes to your bedroom, he finds you unable to move from your nasty fever.

warning. established relationship! umemiya, fluff.

THERE WILL BE PART TWO (A SMUT, HIHI).

umemiya had been staring at his phone screen all morning, watching the line of unanswered texts he’d sent you. he tried calling you again, but once more, the call went straight to voicemail. he frowned, checking the time and realizing how unusual this was. you, of all people, ignoring him? the thought alone made him uneasy. you were the spoiled, clingy one, always texting and calling him at odd hours, demanding attention with the playful charm he adored. but now? complete silence.

unable to shake the worry gnawing at him, he decided to go see you himself. he climbed into his car, a sleek black vehicle that he only drove when visiting your estate, the car he bought after working for hours just to provide you the things you deserve—because otherwise, his bike was more his style—and set off.

when he arrived, he was greeted by your enormous mansion, an estate tucked behind towering iron gates, with manicured lawns and rows of imported flowers lining the driveway. the building was a sight to behold, almost as if it had been taken straight out of a modern fairytale: wide, high-ceilinged windows, intricate stonework, and a massive fountain in the front courtyard. he drove up to the entrance, where a valet opened his car door, and he tossed the keys over, barely pausing as he walked inside.

as he entered the grand foyer, the high ceilings and chandeliers reflected the wealth surrounding him. marble floors gleamed under his boots, and the soft sounds of a piano playing in one of the far rooms filled the air, likely a recording from one of the estate’s speakers. without wasting a second, he made his way to the staircase, a luxurious spiral lined with deep red carpet and framed by golden banisters, leading up to your bedroom. he took the steps two at a time, the worry he’d tried to keep at bay now growing with each step.

reaching the top, he walked through the expansive hallway, glancing at the opulent decor along the walls, each piece more valuable than the last—priceless paintings, crystal vases, intricate carvings. but none of it mattered to him now. he pushed open the double doors to your bedroom, stepping inside and glancing around the enormous space.

your bedroom was like a world of its own, with floor-to-ceiling windows draped in silk curtains, furniture so plush and ornate that it looked like it belonged in a palace, and a chandelier above the bed, casting a warm glow that softened the room’s already rich tones. his gaze landed on the king-sized bed at the center, where you were curled up under the layers of silk and velvet blankets like a tiny cocoon.

“hey,” he whispered, his voice breaking the silence as he stepped closer, heart racing a little. you looked so small, so fragile, wrapped up like that in the middle of your extravagant room.

he sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to gently pull the blanket down from your face. as the fabric slid away, he could finally see you: your features relaxed, your eyelashes casting soft shadows against your cheeks. he exhaled, a mixture of relief and worry swirling in his chest. “you had me worried sick,” he murmured to himself, his hand finding its way to your cheek, brushing gently.

as umemiya sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze softened, finally getting a close look at you. at first, he felt relieved just seeing you there, but the longer he watched, the more he noticed something wasn’t right. your skin, usually full of warmth and color, looked pale and drained under the soft lighting in the room, almost as if the life had been sapped from you.

a frown creased his brow as he reached out, his hand hovering near your face for a moment before gently pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. instantly, his eyes widened in concern—you were burning up. your skin was hot to the touch, feverish in a way that made his stomach twist.

“hey… you’re burning up,” he whispered, his voice laced with worry as his thumb brushed gently over your cheek. even in sleep, you looked uneasy, your face drawn and slightly flushed from the fever. beads of sweat glistened along your forehead, and he noticed a shiver pass through you despite the heat radiating from your skin.

he couldn’t remember ever seeing you like this. usually, you were lively, bright, and demanding in the best way, always pulling him into whatever you had planned for the day. but now, curled up and silent, you looked fragile, too still for his comfort.

swallowing the worry building in his chest, umemiya leaned closer, his hand moving to cup your face gently. “baby, wake up,” he murmured, trying to rouse you without startling you. his thumb continued to trace soft circles on your cheek, hoping that the gentle touch would bring you back just enough to talk to him.

your eyelids fluttered, opening slightly, and you let out a quiet, barely-there groan. your gaze met his, but it was hazy, like you were looking through him rather than at him. “haji…?” your voice was a weak whisper, barely audible.

he blinked at the sound of his name on your lips, relief mixing with concern as your eyes fluttered open, albeit just barely. the way you looked at him—through him, rather than at him—sent a chill down his spine. it was like you were there, but not quite.

“yeah, it’s me, baby,” he murmured back, trying to keep his voice steady as he ran his fingers through your hair, his thumb sweeping over your forehead before moving down to your feverish cheek. your skin was like fire, the heat radiating off of you making him frown tighter.

he moved closer to the middle of the bed, sitting beside you and studying your face closely. he noticed the light shiver that wracked through your body, a contrast to the feverish heat of your skin. “you’re burning up, princess��� how long have you been like this?”

he scanned your face, noting the way your eyes seemed to struggle to focus on him, and the slight crease between your brows from discomfort. gently, he brushed his hand over your forehead again, trying to push back your hair, but it only seemed to cling to your sweaty skin.

“why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of worry and a little annoyance. “i was calling you all morning and yesterday, you didn’t pick up. i was worried sick.”

you barely registered his words, the gentle timbre of his voice mixing with the heat pounding in your head. though you could feel his hand brushing your forehead, his fingers moving tenderly through your hair, it felt as if he was miles away. your eyes drifted closed again, too heavy to keep open, and the exhaustion pressing down on you made responding feel impossible.

“hey, hey,” he said softly, his voice tinged with an edge of panic as he saw you slipping back into that hazy state. “don’t go quiet on me now,” he murmured, his hand cupping your face and his thumb tracing gentle circles against your flushed skin.

your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and another shiver ran through you, making you curl deeper into yourself. he frowned, feeling helpless, as he watched you struggle even to keep your eyes open. “come on, sweetheart… just a little longer,” he whispered, leaning closer, almost as if his presence alone could shield you from the fever’s grip.

but instead of replying, you simply let out a soft sigh, your body giving in to the fever’s exhaustion once more. it was as if responding took too much effort, each second sapping your strength further, until you couldn’t do anything but sink back into the comforting darkness.

a mixture of worry and frustration rose in his chest. you were so weak, so unlike your usual self… it was all so sudden too. he’d seen you just a few days ago, and you were fine then. so how the hell did you end up like this?

he shook his head, pushing back the barrage of questions and focusing on the more pressing matter at hand. you were sick, and sick bad. he needed to do something. he gently shook your shoulder, his fingers applying a light pressure. “baby, stay with me. come on, open your eyes.”

he kept his voice soft, but firm, not wanting to startle you, but also desperate for you to respond fully. his hand slid from your shoulder to your cheek, gripping you a bit tighter.

“i need you to wake up for me, princess. c’mon, you’re scaring the hell out of me.” his gaze traveled over your face again, trying to see if there was any change. you were so still, so unresponsive. it was like you were trapped in some sort of feverish stupor.

your body responded first, a soft jolt running through you as if your mind finally registered the gentle shake. your eyelids fluttered, the weight of exhaustion making each blink feel like an enormous effort, but at the sound of his voice, you fought to open them. hazy and unfocused, your gaze settled on him, trying to make sense of his worried face through the feverish fog clouding your vision.

“haji…?” your voice was barely a whisper, weak and breathy, as if even speaking his name took every ounce of strength left in you. your throat felt dry, the word scratching out as you blinked slowly, struggling to stay present.

he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, a mix of relief and fear flooding his expression as his fingers brushed against your cheek. “yeah, it’s me, princess. i’m right here,” he murmured softly, but there was an urgency beneath his tone, a plea for you to stay awake, to stay with him.

you tried to smile, a faint tug at the corners of your mouth, but it faltered quickly as a wave of dizziness washed over you, making you close your eyes again. “i… i don’t feel good,” you whispered, voice barely audible as you shifted slightly, curling further into the warmth of the blanket but instinctively leaning into his touch.

as you spoke, his heart clenched in his chest. the sound of your weak voice, so unlike your usual bright and animated tone, just drove home how serious this was. “yeah, you’ve got a serious nasty fever,” he murmured, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your cheek. “when did this start, princess?”

he shifted his position, moving to sit closer beside you on the bed, his weight denting the mattress as he adjusted the blanket around you. he reached out, gently brushing back some of the hair sticking to your forehead. you were burning up, but shivering like you were cold.

your head shook weakly, barely a tilt as you struggled to even keep your eyes open. “i… i don’t know,” you whispered, voice trailing off in a soft rasp. the effort it took to form the words felt exhausting, like even the smallest movement drained what little strength you had left.

you blinked, trying to focus on his face, but everything seemed blurry, like you were looking at him through a thick haze. “just… feels like it came out of nowhere,” you mumbled, your voice sounding as distant to yourself as it did to him.

you shifted slightly, wincing as a shiver wracked through you, your body’s warmth a painful contrast to the chills creeping over you. instinctively, you leaned closer to him, seeking out his warmth, the feeling of his presence somehow reassuring. your fingers curled weakly against the blanket, clutching it closer to your chest as you muttered, “sorry… didn’t mean to worry you…”

he exhaled through his nose, frustration mixing with concern. the uncertainty only heightened his worry. how long had you been sick without him knowing? how high did your fever reach before he showed up? it could’ve been dangerous.

he swallowed hard, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest. you looked so delicate, so unlike your usual feisty self. normally, you’d be demanding attention and playing up how vulnerable you were. but now, all he saw was genuine fragility.

“don’t apologise… just stay awake for me, okay? just a few more minutes,” he assured, his hands gently running along your arms over your blanket, trying to soothe the shivers that wracked your body.

he leaned closer, one hand moving to hold your forehead, the other resting on your cheek. he had to keep you awake long enough to get some medication in you. “how long have you been in bed?” he pressed, his voice a soft prodding.

your eyes fluttered open, just barely, as you tried to recall. it felt like days, time blending together in a feverish haze. “since… yesterday? i think,” you murmured, uncertainty lacing your voice, the words coming out in a weak, almost questioning tone. the memories were fuzzy, each attempt to think it over making your head pound harder.

you swallowed, feeling the dryness in your throat and the weight in your limbs. “i… i tried to get up,” you admitted softly, closing your eyes again as exhaustion pulled at you. “but… i couldn’t,” you added, almost like it was an apology, frustration slipping through your voice as you pressed yourself further into the pillow.

he gritted his teeth, trying to suppress the wave of worry that washed over him. yesterday? you’d been like this for a day?

“why didn’t you call me, princess?” he asked suddenly, his tone sharper than he intended. but the thought of you being here, alone and sick for that long, just made his anger flare.

he immediately tried to soften his voice, realising that wasn’t exactly helpful right now. he leaned closer, one hand still against your forehead, the other tracing gentle patterns on your cheek. “i would’ve come over. you know that.”

umemiya’s jaw clenched as he watched you slip back into that feverish haze, eyes fluttering shut once again, caught somewhere between wakefulness and sleep. his gaze softened despite the frustration simmering beneath, taking in the flush that colored your cheeks, the way your lashes brushed against your skin. you looked fragile, far too fragile, and it made his chest tighten with anger and helplessness.

he let his eyes drift around the room, the opulent space feeling eerily quiet and empty, the silence amplifying his worry. how had no one noticed? how had no one thought to check on you? but he caught himself, remembering the countless times you’d insisted on your solitude, telling every worker in the house to leave you be able unless you called them—something he’d grown to understand and respect, even if it frustrated him now.

you’d always been strict about your quality time, loving your own space, always setting your own boundaries. he also knew about your parents’ long work trips once you told him days ago, leaving you alone for weeks. he felt a pang of worry, realizing how long you might’ve been curled up in this bed, too sick to even get up.

still, the thought of you here, curled up alone in this grand room, with no one to look after you gnawed at him. he exhaled deeply, a slow sigh escaping as he reached out, brushing a thumb gently across your fever-warmed cheek. his other hand moved to check the blanket, making sure it was snug around you.

“have you even eaten?” he whispered to himself, his voice thick with concern. he brushed his thumb gently over your forehead, feeling the heat radiate from you, and his jaw tightened. he’d never forgive himself if he left you to go through this alone.

you managed a faint shake of your head, your movements slow and weak, but it was enough to make his heart sink. even in your half-conscious state, you were honest, admitting in that small gesture that you hadn’t eaten, that you’d been here alone and struggling.

umemiya’s jaw clenched, again, his eyes darkening with both worry and a quiet anger at the thought of you lying here for so long, too sick to even take care of yourself. “damn it, princess,” he murmured, voice breaking with a mixture of frustration and affection. his other thumb traced softly over your cheek, his touch tender despite the tightness in his expression. “you should’ve called me… you don’t have to handle everything alone.”

as you shook your head weakly, the admission of having not eaten sent a stabbing pain through his chest. you’d been here, alone and vulnerable, and you didn’t even have the strength to eat. he could barely hold back the rush of anger and worry.

“jesus christ, princess…” he muttered, his hand move to clenching the blanket at your side, trying to keep his emotions in check. he didn’t want to upset you, not when you looked so fragile, but the thought of you here... “why do you always have to be so damn stubborn?”

he grumbled under his breath, anger simmering within him, the fact that you didn’t call him the second you started feeling unwell driving him crazy. he knew you were stubborn, but this was on a whole new level. you were sick, you were suffering, alone and in pain. without a word, he reached for the home phone on one of the bedside tables, dialing the direct line to the kitchen.

a soft beeping sound filled the room as he waited for someone in the kitchen to pick up. he still held your cheek gently with his other hand, feeling the heat radiating from your fevered skin. as the line finally connected, a familiar voice sounded from the other end.

“yes, sir?” the kitchen staff member greeted warmly to umemiya after hearing his polite yet firm voice, clearly recognizable from having worked in the house for years. your staff are already familiar with umemiya, so when they hear a man’s voice they instantly know it was him. “send up some food,” umemiya ordered, his voice firm with no room for argument. “soup—chicken noodle, and some water. no, wait. make that ginger tea, add some honey too.”

he looked down at you, your figure so small and fragile under the covers. he couldn’t shake the feeling of worry and anger from his gut. even after all this time, you were still so damn stubborn, and it frustrated him to no end.

“yes, sir,” the voice replied calmly on the other end of the line. “anything else?”

umemiya glanced around the room before answering gruffly, “yes. send some medicine—fever reducers and anti-inflammatory,” he paused, eyeing your weakened form. “and something for a sore throat too.”

“right away, sir.” the voice responded swiftly, understanding the gravity of the situation from the tone of his voice alone.

he hung up, placing the phone back on the bedside table, and turning his attention fully back to you. he moved his hand from your cheek, but not before letting his touch linger for a moment. he sat back a bit, letting his eyes roam over you again, seeing the small shivers that continued to wrack through your body. he leaned forward, pulling the blanket as tightly around you as he could.

a faint murmur slipped from your lips, barely above a whisper, “cold…” the word sounded so small, carrying a fragile edge that made umemiya’s heart twist. he took in the sight of your shivering form, noticing for the first time how thin your shirt was, your legs barely covered by your shorts.

“i’ll fix that,” he whispered, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your feverish forehead before he stood up. he hesitated for a second, his gaze lingering on you, then he walked over to your walk-in closet. the sprawling space was filled with clothes and luxurious fabrics, but he focused only on finding something warm, something that would help ease your shivering.

as he picked out a soft, thick sweater and a pair of cozy sweatpants, he felt an urgency—an overwhelming need to see you comfortable again. he returned to your bedside, sitting beside you once more. “let’s get you warmed up, okay, baby?” he murmured gently, brushing a few strands of hair back from your face.

you responded with a small, almost imperceptible nod, your lips curling up into a weak, grateful smile. your eyes were half-lidded, exhaustion pulling at your body, but you still managed to muster a response, your voice a faint, strained whisper.

“yeah…”

he saw the way you watched him, though your eyes seemed heavy and unfocused, you still tracked his movements. he could see the relief in your gaze, a silent thanks for his being here. umemiya gave you one last reassuring look before he set to work, shifting and tugging at the covers.

unemeiya managed to get you dressed, the thick, comfortable material of the sweater and sweatpants providing some much-needed warmth to your shivering form. he tucked the blanket around you, making sure every inch of you was covered, trying to block out the chill that seemed to permeate every inch of the room.

he laid a gentle hand on your forehead again, the heat still burning underneath his touch. he noticed the sweat beading on your skin, your fevered state clearly taking its toll. he needed that medicine—now.

after a while, umemiya finally managed to settle you against the headboard, your back resting comfortably against the soft pillows he’d piled behind you. the blankets were wrapped snugly around your shoulders, a small comfort against the feverish chill that clung to your skin.

“here, just a little more,” he murmured, holding the bowl of soup carefully in one hand while lifting a spoonful to your lips with the other. his eyes softened as you blinked drowsily, barely managing to focus on him. even through the haze, you kept your gaze on him, as if anchoring yourself to his presence.

you parted your lips, accepting each spoonful as he fed you with a tenderness that spoke of his worry and care. his thumb brushed over your knuckles, tracing gentle circles in reassurance as he murmured, “that’s it… one more.”

with each bite, he stayed close, watching you carefully, his gaze never leaving yours for long. though weak, you could sense the warmth in his eyes, a silent promise that he wasn’t going anywhere. it was enough to bring a small comfort through the fever’s hold on you, as he patiently helped you through each bite.

a weak chuckle slipped from your lips, catching his attention as he continued to frown, his brow furrowed in silent frustration. you could see that sulky look in his eyes, the kind he wore whenever he was quietly scolding you—this time for not telling him you were sick.

“what’s so funny?” he muttered, his voice laced with concern, though he couldn’t quite hide the hint of annoyance. you gave him a small, hazy smile. “you’re frowning like i committed a crime,” you teased weakly, voice barely above a whisper.

as your voice floated over, he couldn't help but huff a soft sigh, his lips almost curving into a smile. even when you were sick and exhausted, you still managed to be a smartass, still managed to find the humour in his worry.

he let his gaze travel over your face for a second, taking in the slight flush to your cheeks, the fever still leaving its mark. his fingers ran softly over your skin, feeling the heat that radiated off of you. “pretty sure being this stubborn should be a crime,” he muttered, his tone half-teasing, half-concerned.

he brought the next spoonful of soup to your lips, his eyes meeting yours. “open up,” he gently commanded. you were slowly but surely finishing the bowl, each spoonful a testament to your progress. you took each bite obediently, too tired to argue or protest. but the way you looked at him, the fire in your eyes still burning despite the fever, made him smile.

as he fed you another spoonful, he chuckled softly, a sound that rumbled in his chest. “look at you, all compliant. guess you’re easier to handle with a fever, yeah?” he chuckles.

“you’re lucky you’re sick as hell, otherwise i’d be yelling at you right now,” he continued, his voice taking a firmer tone, though the worry in his eyes betrayed the attempt to chide you. he lifted another spoonful of soup, holding it to your lips, waiting for you to take it before he spoke again. “do you know how worried i was, princess?” he asked, his frown deepening slightly, the question clearly rhetorical.

you managed a weak chuckle, your lips curling into a small smirk as you glanced up at him. “did i make you cry, haji?” you teased, voice raspy but playful, though you could barely keep your eyes open. despite the fatigue weighing on you, the spark in your gaze was unmistakable.

umemiya scoffed, rolling his eyes, though a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “yeah, right. you wish,” he muttered, feigning offense. “you might have had me a little freaked out, but you’re not getting any tears out of me.”

he brought another spoonful of soup to your lips, his eyes still watching you intently. “you should be focusing on getting better, not cracking jokes,” he chided softly, but his smile betrayed the warmth beneath his words.

as you took the spoonful, you gave him a small grin, savoring the way he fussed over you. “i’ll keep that in mind… next time i wanna make you cry,” you whispered, too tired to manage more than a lazy smile.

umemiya huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head at your sass. even with a fever, you were still as cheeky as ever. “yeah, yeah, princess. don’t push your luck,” he reprimanded, though his voice betrayed his amusement. he knew you well. once you were set on something, especially the act of teasing him, there was no stopping you.

he chuckled, gently brushing a stray hair from your forehead. “keep talking like that, and i’ll start charging for this five-star nursing service,” he teased back, though his hand lingered, his thumb gently stroking your temple.

after, he stirred the spoon in the bowl, watching the broth swirl around, then brought it up to your lips again, holding your gaze as he spoke. “one more spoonful. think you can manage?”

you gave him a small, weary nod, lips parting slightly as he brought the spoon to your mouth. though every muscle in your body felt heavy, there was something soothing about his presence, the gentle way he held your gaze, the warmth of his fingers as they lingered at your temple.

as you swallowed the last spoonful, a soft hum of satisfaction slipped past his lips. he placed the bowl back on the bedside table before he leaned closer to you, his eyes roaming over you. the slight flush to your cheeks was now more pronounced, the fever still holding its grip.

he reached out and laid a hand on your forehead, feeling the heat beneath his palm. he frowned slightly, the worry still etched across his features. “you’re still burning up…” he muttered, his fingers tracing the edge of your jaw.

you nodded slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “still feel like shit…” you admitted, your eyes drifting to the glass sitting on the bedside table. the dryness in your throat only added to your discomfort. “and... thirsty.”

umemiya nodded, understanding your needs without you even having to say much. he reached for the glass of water, wrapping his fingers around the cool, smooth glass. he held it for you and guided it to your lips, gently supporting the back of your head. “try to take small sips, okay? too much too fast and you’ll throw up,” he instructed quietly.

he watched as you took small sips, making sure each one went down without issue. he observed your movements, noting the tiredness in your eyes, though he couldn’t help noticing the slight quirk of your lips as you looked at him. he chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving your face. “what’s that look for?” he asked, curiosity lacing his voice as he placed the glass back on the bedside table.

you chuckled weakly, shaking your head in response to his question. “nothing,” you murmured, though a small smile lingered on your lips. there was something comforting about his presence, the way he fussed over you even when you felt your worst.

umemiya, noticing that you hadn’t finished the tea your staff had prepared earlier, picked up the warm cup and held it out to you. “you need to drink this too,” he insisted gently. “it’ll help with the fever.”

you took a few more sips, the warmth spreading through your body, making you feel a bit better despite the lingering fatigue. he watched you closely, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and affection, making sure you drank as much as you could.

once you managed to finish most of the tea, he reached for the medication, his demeanor shifting to one of gentle authority. “alright, time for your medicine,” he said, opening the packet and handing you the pills along with another glass of water. “just take it easy and swallow these down. i’ll be right here.” you nodded, taking the pills and the water, grateful for his insistence. as you swallowed, you felt the heaviness in your body begin to lift, even if just slightly. his nurturing care wrapped around you like a warm blanket, easing the discomfort you felt inside.

umemiya watched as you swallowed the pills, a sense of relief washing over him. he knew they’d help bring your fever down, make you feel better. his eyes still roamed over you, taking in your tired form, your pale skin, the way your shoulders sagged with fatigue.

he moved closer, his hand reaching out to brush a few strands of hair back from your face. “feeling any better?” he asked quietly, his voice filled with concern and affection. his fingers lingered at your temple, tracing small, soothing circles on your skin.

you raised an eyebrow at him, a playful smirk forming on your lips despite the fatigue that weighed you down. “oh, yeah, it feels like magic,” you said sarcastically, your voice laced with a hint of teasing. “a minutes in, and i’m already dancing around like a fairy.”

it was hard to keep the teasing tone out of your voice, even in your current state. the way he hovered over you, checking in with such genuine concern, warmed your heart despite the fever that still clung to you.

you couldn’t help but feel a little amused by his eagerness to gauge the effects of the medicine so soon. it hadn’t even been a minutes since you swallowed the pills, yet here he was, acting like he was waiting for some miraculous recovery. his affection was palpable, wrapping around you like a cozy blanket, and you felt a flutter in your chest. it was comforting to know he cared so much, even when you felt like a shell of your usual self.

umemiya chuckled at your sarcastic reply, his eyebrows lifting in amusement. he should’ve known better, even feverish and exhausted, you still kept your sass. your witty comebacks, the way you didn’t lose that edge, even in your state of illness— it was one of the things he loved about you.

he shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “you’re a real comedian, you know that?” he teased back, his hand still tracing patterns across your skin, his touch gentle yet firm.

you laughed softly, a mix of sarcasm and playful defiance in your voice. “what can i say, baby? i’m a natural entertainer, even when i’m a hot mess,” you replied, a teasing glint in your eyes despite the fatigue weighing you down. the laughter felt good, a small reprieve from the fever that still clung to you.

“besides, someone has to keep you on your toes, haji. wouldn’t want you getting too comfortable playing nurse,” you added, a smirk dancing on your lips. it was a lighthearted jab, a way to keep the atmosphere from becoming too heavy. his smirk only deepened, and you could see the fondness in his gaze as he continued to gently brush his fingers along your skin, creating a soothing rhythm that calmed your racing thoughts.

“but really, i appreciate you being here. just don’t expect a standing ovation for my performance tonight,” you quipped, chuckling again softly, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

umemiya chuckled, shaking his head again. only you could find a way to keep your spirits up, even in your weakened state. he knew it was a defense mechanism, a way to mask the discomfort behind your witty banter.

“oh, princess, i already have a standing ovation in mind for you,” he teased back, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “but it’ll have to wait until you’re feeling better.” he could see the fatigue in your eyes, the way they were starting to droop as you tried to keep up the banter.

umemiya felt a surge of warmth in his chest as he watched you, the fatigue beginning to win the battle against your spirited facade. wanting to comfort you in the best way he could, he moved slowly, shedding his clothes until he was only in his boxers. he wanted to keep you warm, and sharing body heat felt like the perfect solution.

sliding under the covers beside you, he nestled in close, a playful grin on his face. “come here, you little shit,” he joked, his voice light but laced with affection. wrapping his arms around your shoulders, he pulled you against him, your body fitting perfectly against his.

he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, feeling the heat radiate from your skin. “you’re stealing all my body heat, you know,” he teased, though the warmth of you pressed against him was comforting. his heart swelled with affection, grateful to be here with you, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal. “but i guess i can’t complain,” he murmured, his fingers brushing through your hair as he held you close, hoping his warmth would help chase away the chill of your fever.

you let out a weak giggle, the sound light and airy despite your fatigue. instinctively, you wrapped your arm around his bare waist, seeking comfort in his warmth as you nestled your head against his hard chest. the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you was soothing, grounding you amidst the haze of your fever.

“guess i’ll take the heat, then,” you murmured, your voice slightly muffled against his skin. there was a sense of safety in being so close to him, a shield against the chill that had settled in your bones. his warmth enveloped you like a blanket of sun kissing your skin in the morning, and for a moment, the discomfort of your illness faded into the background.

you could feel the tension in his body ease as he held you, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back. it was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes of his care. the banter may have been playful, but this closeness was what truly made you feel better. with umemiya beside you, even the worst of days seemed a little more bearable.

umemiya relished in the way your body fit against his, the way you instinctively clung to him. it felt good to hold you like this, even if it was because you were sick. he held you closer, his fingers tracing soft lines across your back, feeling the shiver that still clung to your body.

“you’re always stealing my body heat,” he teased again, his voice low and rough. “just can’t keep your hands off me, huh?” he chuckled lightly, the sound rumbling in his chest beneath your ear.

you hummed softly at his teasing, a playful smile tugging at your lips as your fingers began to run gently up and down his chest. the warmth radiating from him felt incredibly comforting, and the connection between you only deepened with each gentle stroke.

“maybe you can stay the night for today,” you suggested lightly, your voice playful yet sincere. the thought of having him beside you, wrapped up in each other’s warmth while you tried to shake off the fever, was immensely appealing. you loved how his presence made everything feel safer, more secure.

you looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with mischief despite your exhaustion. “what do you say, haji? an all-night nursing shift, just for me?” you added, teasingly batting your lashes, the affectionate banter bringing a bit of life back into your weary body.

umemiya chuckled at your suggestion, a flicker of warmth in his eyes at the thought. the idea of spending the night with you, watching over you as you fought off the fever, appealed to him more than he cared to admit.

“hmm, an all-night nursing shift, just for you, princess?” he repeated, feigning reluctance before a smirk tugged at his lips. “and here i thought i was already working overtime, given how stubborn you’ve been all day.” he let his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer into his chest.

“fine, but you owe me. big time,” he paused for a moment, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back, taking a moment to relish in the feeling of having you close. “now close those pretty eyes and try to get some rest,” he instructed softly, his voice filled with a tender firmness. “the faster you fall asleep, the sooner you’ll kick this fever’s ass.”

you let out a soft sigh, feeling the weight of your exhaustion wash over you. “all right,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you closed your eyes, succumbing to the warmth and comfort surrounding you.

you tightened your arm around his waist, pulling him even closer beneath the blanket. his steady heartbeat against your ear was soothing, and you focused on that rhythmic sound, allowing it to lull you into a sense of peace. the tension in your body began to melt away, the worry and discomfort fading as you nestled against him, feeling safe and cherished.

“just don’t let go,” you added softly, your voice muffled against his chest, wanting to hold onto this moment for as long as you could.

umemiya chuckled lightly at your demand, a soft rumble in his chest. “like i could ever,” he muttered quietly, his voice thick with affectionate amusement. he tightened his arms around you, pulling you firmly against him, wanting to comfort you and provide you with the reassurance you craved.

he leaned his head down, his lips brushing against your forehead, leaving behind a gentle kiss. “go on, princess. just let it all go. get some shut eye, you stubborn little thing,” he encouraged gently, his fingers running lazily through your hair.

he continued to hold you, his touch gentle and soothing, his fingers tracing small, slow circles on your back. he could feel your breathing begin to deepen, the steady rhythm of your body against his letting him know you were finally falling asleep.

umemiya looked down at you, the soft rise and fall of your chest against his, the way you clung tightly to him. he couldn’t help but smile, feeling a sense of protectiveness as he watched over you, ensuring you got the rest you so desperately needed.

he continued the soothing motion, his fingers moving along your scalp, trying to ease any remaining tension. “don’t worry about a thing, princess. i’ll be right here when you wake up,” he murmured, voice barely above the whisper with his lips on your forehead.

for hours, he remained in that space, his gaze flickering between the television screen and your peaceful face. the soft glow of the screen cast gentle shadows across the room, but his attention was mostly on you, the way you nestled against him, your breathing gradually becoming steadier.

each time he caught a glimpse of you, he felt a wave of warmth and protectiveness wash over him. he couldn’t help but smile as he gently pressed his lips to your forehead, the action becoming instinctual, a silent promise that he would be there for you. his fingers continued to stroke your hair, weaving through the strands, creating a rhythm that seemed to sync with your deepening sleep.

he kept the TV volume low, not wanting to disturb you, but found himself growing restless as the hours ticked by. despite your peaceful slumber, he could sense the occasional hitch in your breath, the subtle sign that your body was still battling the fever. he continued to soothe you with his touch, whispering soft reassurances that you might not even hear.

“i’ve got you,” he whispered quietly, though he knew you couldn’t hear him. the world outside faded away, and for him, nothing mattered more than ensuring you felt safe and loved in that moment. he stayed vigilant, anticipating the moment you’d wake, ready to shower you with affection and care. in the stillness of the room, umemiya felt a sense of peace settle over him, knowing he’d be right there when you opened your eyes again.

[r0-boat]

Could I request Von Lycaon finding out his s/o made him (and, if it's okay with you, the rest of Victoria Housekeeping) new clothes?

Just imagine him walking in on s/o making a very stylish suit while surrounded by mannequins wearing elaborate clothes.

Ye ye! This was really fun to write Thank you so much!

Von Lycaon with a fashion designer S/O (feat: Victoria housekeeping)

Being not only his partner but a trusted friend to all of Victoria housekeeping, You kind of have free reign over the entire mansion. It's not like he minds any mess you make you clean up, and your presence is welcomed by all the maids and butlers. Even though it is rude to be nosy about what exactly you do and some of these rooms, He can't help but be curious when he watches you walk in and out of an old room carrying shopping bags full of items.

You had a huge smile on your face, So whatever you were doing, it was making you happy, which made him even more curious. And then it was your odd behavior He was dusting off the banister when you walked right up to him Your gentle smile as you hum a tune before he could ask if there's anything you need You grab his palm your fingers gently brushing over the cuff of his suit before your other hand gently running over his collar. His eyes go right but he does not stop instead lowering his head down to let you work your fingers. He's so glad He was a thiren then you wouldn't see the blush on his face. The way your hands were inspecting his clothes he half expected you to take them off. His voice cracks "please dear... What are you doing? We can't do it here." Embarrassment washed over him when you gave him a confused look.

Staring at The door to the room knowing you were on the other side He hesitates opening it. It is really improper to be as nosy as he's being right now. But you would understand, right? "Apologies." He says as he opens the door. He goes silent as he looks at the mannequins with elaborate dresses and suits, And you sit in the middle hand sewing to fabrics together. You hadn't even realized he entered You are so enamored with your work. Lycaon was shocked He didn't even realize this mansion had mannequins and you kept it so well hidden He swears he remembers going into this closet to clean before and none of this was here. And these designs professionally done with really good cloth and silk. "Was this all you?" He asked putting a hand on your shoulder getting your attention. You looked up at the wolf standing before you a small smile on his face. Your cheeks went red You thought you would keep this a secret for longer. "Uh yeah. It's just a hobby They don't really look very good." Lycaon shook his head. "Nonsense I've seen five star seamstresses with designs and clothing like these. Actually your work is far beyond that of a elite fashion designer." Your heart pounded in your chest being someone who wasn't confident in their own skills being judged by someone who you trusted that had an eye for quality made you warm inside. That's when something caught his eye. A beautiful white suit with a black tie and red markings, It was elegant and It looked exactly his size. "It was supposed to be for you. But I didn't want to show you." You murmur. Lycaon looked back at you and then back at the suit. "I'll wear it." What kind of boyfriend/Butler would he be if he didn't wear his own partners clothing.

He was wearing your own suit The level of happiness you felt was immeasurable. He looks so handsome in white You tried to go for a more modern style than his normal Victorian style. That's when the door opens again. You heard Corrin's voice "please help! I ripped my dress again- OH MR. LYCAON!" she shreaked half expected to get yelled at for ripping her dress. You smile that she stepped closer toward you with a needle and thimble in hand. You got to work on the tear But Lycaon has sights on something else. "Miss Corrin! Did you know our guest could sew?" Corrin looked confused "You didn't?" Lycaon's ears twitched as they folded backward "excuse me?" "Yeah um, Rina had a little costume done for her Bangboo and she was so happy she told everyone. I guess she didn't tell you?"

No she didn't this was news to him. And speak of the devil Rina flying through a wall "Dear is that dress I ordered done I would just love a matching set with Drusilla- Oh hello Lycaon." His frown dropped further "Alexandrina..."You couldn't help but crack a smile as he sounded like a disappointed father, But part of you is guilty because you knew why she didn't tell him. "I'm sorry Lycaon. I didn't want you to know. I thought I wasn't good enough." His disappointment turn into a face of shock and hurt. "Beloved I could never be so cruel. Good or not I would support your hobby 100%... Where have you gotten that poisonous thought?"

Your heart feeling heavy your eyes move to the ground. Corrin and Rina left to give you two some space. "Beloved, I understand you have your secrets, I have mine But never assume such things." He says caressing your face with his hand giving you a kiss on the forehead. "Thank you Lycaon I'm sorry." You smile kissing him back.

You're hugging was interrupted by a snore. Von Lycaon looks over in the corner to see where the noise came from. To his shock he sees Ellen Joe curled up on a trunk snoozing away curled up like a cat her tail covering her face. "How long has she been there? I've been looking for her." You couldn't help but laugh "Oh yeah she comes in here sometimes. Since you never come in here very often." Lycaon's eyes narrow "Oh really?" Oh dear... Sorry Ellen for accidentally ratting you out.

[almostempty]

What’s Love Got to Do with It

(oberyn x f!reader)  wc: 4.6k | other fics 

note: hey y’all it’s me ya gurl, here to defile another prompt with a silly idea <3 Sooo, from the three brain cells that brought you fuckboy!joel and divorced dad rock dilf!joel 🫡i now humbly present …. Frat bro Oberyn, Aka The Red Viper, aka the Prince of Pong, aka the Slut of Delta Psi (i did steal the frat name from the film Neighbors—in which they do sing a line from Creed in their frat chant, so in some twisted way, they’re kind of all connected right??) 

I fear this may have just been funny to me so feel free to skip, but thank you to everyone who tolerates my shenanigans <3. 

ANYWAY, The lovely @baronessvonglitter bestowed upon me Oberyn x What’s Love Got to Do with It for fucktober (happy belated bday babe) but naturally, i made it weird. Thanks to @sunshinehaze1 for reminding me that modern AUs exist when I got scared of the GOT universe and to @auterdelabre for reminding me that the answer is always fuckboy. Don’t blame them for anything else.

Summary: You attend a fraternity toga party, and you catch the eye of Delta Psi’s notorious Red Viper. He shows you how he got the nickname and then he shows you something else he’s known for. 

tags/warnings: explicit 18+ smut, alcohol/partying, gratuitous flirting, piv, fuckboy behavior aka on to the next one, infidelity, i couldn’t bring myself to write his dialogue in frat bro™ –aka i didn’t fully commit to the bit bc that man just had to be smooth and had to fuck no matter what universe i put him in, apologies if that ruins your immersion in my pwp, per usual: no y/n, f!reader is able bodied otherwise no specifics, unprotected piv as if it’s no biggie because it’s fiction (don’t do that irl), no beta/limited proofreading sorry for all mistakes 

“Oh my god, that’s him!” Your best friend shouts into your ear as you walk down the sidewalk. You blend into the sea of toga-clad college kids, sandals slapping against the pavement. Liv leans on you, pointing out the guy she’s talking about. You can hear the music pouring out into the street and people inside yelling and chanting over someone doing a keg stand or something equally as exciting and alcohol-related, you assume. 

The guy she pointed out is leaning casually against the banister, letting some ripped blond dude entertain him on the porch. “That’s the guy your roommate was talking about?” you question your friend. Liv agrees with a smile as you walk towards the front steps. 

Everyone else on the porch looks like a frat bro wrapped in a wrinkly bedsheet, but for some reason, he seems almost godlike. He’s luminous under the warm lights. As if he knew you were checking him out, he turns his head just as you walk past, and his eyes sweep over you, making your face hot. Something sparks between you before he turns away, taking a swig of his drink. 

Liv had given you a rundown on what to expect at your first Delta Psi party. You had argued that you knew what college parties were like. You transferred this quarter as a senior, and you just didn’t have Greek life at your other school or your best friend to convince you to go out. But now, you’re here, dressed up and entering a party that really does feel a little more intense than the ones back at your small-town university. 

Liv’s roommate had given you the rundown on the guys she knew in the fraternity, but you didn’t pay much attention to her descriptions. You figured there was no way a Brad, Dylan, Connor, or a Brent would actually be hot. And then, when she started with the ones with nicknames, you completely checked out after Viper and Rooster. It has to defy the laws of nature for a frat bro that goes by Rooster to be able to find your clit—even if he IS hot. 

Yet, now you realize you might be eating your words because you get it. You were too quick to judge, whoops. “Which one was that?” you ask in Liv’s ear as you both make your way through the people sloshing drinks and dancing. 

“Viper!” 

You can’t help the immediate grimace that emerges on your face. “That’s so douchey!” you shout back over the noise before she pulls you down a hall toward that kitchen. She leans in close to your ear, telling you that her roommate swears she got the best head of her life from him. “No fucking way,” you argue. 

“Way,” she smirks back. “He’s got a girlfriend now, though. They’re, like, totally in love, it’s all over social media.” She mocks puking at the idea, and you share a laugh.

You explore the party together. The house is huge; one room on the main floor is blasting EDM, and another is blasting top 40 hits. There are a couple of beer pong tables in the backyard and a detached garage filled with stoners on old couches giggling to themselves. You know that Liv is itching to park her ass on one of those sofas and find a girl or guy to whom she can woo with her French inhale and makeout with for the rest of the night. 

But, she’s a loyal ass bitch who wouldn’t abandon you. You circle back through the house. You spend a little while dancing together and taking your time to see if there’s anyone else who catches your eye. Nobody really sticks out to you in the first room until you catch his eyes again. You have to do a double-take as you circle your waist and roll your body against Liv. 

He’s semi-shrouded in the corner; with the dim lighting and the packed house, it would be easy to miss the two of them altogether. But when the girl clinging to him turns around to grind her ass against him, he locks eyes with you, and you swear that fucker winks at you before a group of girls prance into the room, shouting oh my god, it’s our song! You try to shake it off. You were definitely just seeing things with the lights. 

You signal to Liv, and she follows you into the other room. You dance together a bit longer. She offers you a swig from her rhinestone-encrusted flask, but you turn her down, staying sober tonight. You feel euphoric enough with the strobe lights and the thrumming bass from the EDM remixes blasting in the room. 

You turn down a few wasted white dudes who try to dance up on the two of you. Too drunk. Not your type. Too handsy. You’re not afraid to punch a man in the throat or the nuts if they don’t get the hint, but they back off when you give them a gentle shove and a shake of your head. The most recent suitor is turning and scoping for another girl to approach when you see him again. 

He’s moving towards you, looking right at you, but there’s no girl on his arm–or crotch, now. For some reason, it makes you feel too hot. You’re sweating from the dancing anyway, so you ignore the electric look in his eye that makes your clit twitch and grab Liv’s arm to make a dash for the backyard to get some fresh air. 

You debrief with each other and come to an agreement. You tell Liv to do her thing, urging her to head towards the couch with the skater dude wearing the toga made from a dinosaur patterned sheet and the high-top vans. She agrees to text you if she plans to relocate or wants to leave before you finish taking another lap around the party. 

You sort of lie to her, claiming someone inside caught your eye. They did, but you aren’t planning to do anything about it. Instead, you part ways and head back through the house, past the pledge posing as a bouncer at the front door, and onto the front porch. The music is still loud, but it’s quieter out front. People still trickle in and out of the party. You stare out at the night sky, searching for the moon. In your own little world, you’re basking in your own peace. 

“I haven’t seen you here before,” a rich, velvety voice washes over your shoulder. It should make you jerk away, give you goosebumps, and raise your hackles. But, instead, the interruption stirs liquid heat in your core and makes your nipples hard. Because it’s him. 

You turn your head and confirm. He’s so close to you. 

“You know every girl here?” you challenge him. 

“I know the ladies and gentlemen that pique my curiosity,” his voice is so smooth. He’s a charmer, for sure. He offers you a drink, holding out two plastic cups in one hand. The size of his hand does make you tingly, but his smile falters when you shoot him one of your signature dirty looks. 

Before he can ask about the look, you take one of the cups, give him a cloyingly sweet smile, and pour it out over the railing into the grass below. The tail of his brow quirks, and he gives you a sly smile that widens into a grin and a full-chested laugh. “Oops,” you mock. 

“You’re a bold woman,” he muses, “I like that.” 

He doesn’t back down after you toss out his drink. He doesn’t take it as a rejection. He understands when you explain you don’t take open drinks from strangers at a frat party, but you roll your eyes hard when he gloats about not needing tricks or drugs to find a lover. 

He banters with you as he downs the remaining drink. He’s quick, with sharp wit and a devious smile. You can’t keep your eyes off his exposed chest, his arms, his neck, his eyes. It’s still confusing how he can look so regal, whereas everyone else in the party looks a little…goofy? Cliche? He pulls you back to the present, asking for your name before he gives you his. 

“They call me ‘the Red Viper,’” he gives you a provocative grin like he knows exactly how hot he looks, even with a bedsheet draped over his shoulder. 

You play into his hand, “Is that some kinda of euphemism?” Feeding his ego with a suggestive arch of your brow. Maybe you’re bold, but you don’t think he’s the type to be deterred by a confident woman. In fact, it seems to make him glow even brighter.

His voice lowers, dripping with an enticing challenge, “Are you looking to find out?” he asks. 

His jaw quirks, and you’re mesmerized watching him suck at his lower lip. It looks so perfectly plump and kissable, curling into a smirk as his eyes gleam with mischief. “Come,” he beckons for you to follow him deeper into the party. 

“I thought you had a girlfriend,” you say stiffly, remembering what Liv had said as you walked in. He looks at you curiously before shaking his head lightly. 

“You mean Cora? From earlier? She’s not my girlfriend. We were just dancing.” 

“No,” you shake your head, “I heard it’s all over social media. That you’re loved up.” 

“Oh, so you’ve heard of me?” he gives you that cocky smile that absolutely shouldn’t work but somehow makes you feel warm like you’re laying on the warm sand on a beach listening to the waves crashing. You don’t say anything else, and he leans in a little closer, “What’s love got to do with it?” he asks huskily. Dangerously. 

It makes you shudder with something warm and twisted. 

“Now,” he guides you gently but firmly, “Come.” You need him to stop saying it like an order before you do. 

You let him walk you through the party. Weaving through the boisterous crowds. They part easily for him, clearing a path like he’s royalty. 

“They call me ‘the Red Viper’ because I’m lethal at any game involving a red Solo cup.” He murmurs it into your ear like it’s a sexy secret. 

You laugh brightly at that, giving him a gentle shove. “That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard!” 

He gives you a coy shrug. “It’s the truth.” He leads you into the backyard, towards the beer pong tables. “I’ll show you,” he says just for you to hear. The string lights illuminate the yard in soft light; however, the mood is anything but romantic, with the drunk cheering college kids taking their drinking games very seriously. 

You watch, amused, as one team high-fives each other over their trick shot. At another table, both teams heatedly argue about “house rules.” 

“It’s the prince of pong!” one of his fraternity brothers shouts across the lawn. He gives you the most dramatic I told you so glance, and you mouth “lame” back at him. He calls ‘next game,’ and as if he were their lord, one table immediately clears out, forfeiting in a demonstration of fealty. 

“Ladies first,” he offers once he’s set up all the cups to his liking. He’s so arrogant about it, and it shouldn’t turn you on, but it absolutely does. 

You grin across the table at him. “You’re on.” 

He’s merciful at first. You land a few cups, giving you enough confidence to talk shit and tease him. But it rapidly becomes apparent that he’s a man of his word as he easily picks off every cup on your end of the table with precision.  

Despite your rapid descent towards a loss, you eat up his charm. His magnetic energy. He makes the rest of the party disappear when he looks at you. It makes your heart tingle and your pussy flutter. He’s a gracious winner, only gloating a little as he reracks the table and offers it up to other party-goers. 

“Alright, Viper, you won. You can retain your title.” You admit defeat as he slinks up close to you, ushering you along to the side of the house, only a few steps away but more secluded from the rest of the party. 

“And now, will you allow me to claim my prize?” he asks in his smoky, deep voice. 

Despite his clear intentions, you feign confusion as he wraps one wide hand around your waist and tilts your chin towards his face with the other. “I didn’t know we were playing for stakes,” you smile brashly. Your skin blazes under his touch and his seductive gaze as his eyes drop to your mouth. 

He starts to dip towards you, but you swerve away from him. It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask again if he’s in a relationship. He growls softly, almost a purr, next to your ear. “What’s wrong, my lady?” he murmurs. The intimacy of it is heady, and your surroundings fade. 

You want to take whatever he’s offering, no questions, so instead you whisper, “Tell me your real name.”

He sighs softly before giving in and telling you his name. 

“Oberyn,” you repeat back, “that’s unique.” 

He starts muttering about how he’s an international student, but you’ve got all the info you needed. Now you don’t have to add a guy named Viper to your mental list of hookups. 

“I like it,” you cut him off before slotting your mouth against his and making up for ducking out of his last attempt at a kiss with your eagerness. He wraps his arm around you, and you’re transported. One large hand presses against your lower back, urging your hips toward his, and the other cradles your jaw, giving you a sense of stability as he matches your ferocity. 

You briefly wonder if you’d have melted if he wasn’t holding you so tightly before your thoughts are consumed by the sensation of his lips against yours and his tongue running along yours. It’s not a kiss you would’ve expected from a frat guy. It’s romantic and passionate, and you feel your body rolling against his, caught up in the sensation and intensity. 

You keep going, letting yourself enjoy the moment, eating up the flavor of him, the scent of him, and the throbbing intensifying between your legs. You slip one of your hands along the back of his neck into his soft hair, and he groans into your mouth. It makes your knees weak. 

You chase his mouth as he pulls back and looks into your heavy-lidded eyes. Sharing the hot air between you, it feels like a current is looping through your bodies, buzzing with need. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” he urges in a gravelly whisper. You can feel him hardening against you. His hand on your back is firm, keeping you flush, pelvis to pelvis, making you nearly dizzy. However, his hand on your jaw is gentle, brushing his thumb along your cheek sweetly. You still can’t help goading just a little. 

“What for?” you ask playfully. 

“To fuck.” 

It makes your cheeks hot. Maybe there should be red flags popping up in your mind, but you don’t care. He likes a bold woman, and you like a direct man. 

“Unless you’d rather do it in the grass here,” he tilts his head toward the ground. You act like you’re considering the option seriously, making him laugh before he releases you from his arms. “Don’t tease,” he says with a severe look, “It wouldn’t bother me.” 

Me either, you consider before deciding not to say that part aloud. You tell him to take you to a real bed, and he does. Swiftly guiding you into the house and up the stairs, past the pledge guarding the rooms, and into his bedroom. He spins around, pinning you against the door for another searing kiss. It’s more urgent this time. He’s quickly moving to your neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your tender skin as you both greedily run your hands along each other’s bodies. 

Before you can get your hands under his toga, he’s detaching from you and sinking to his knees. He moves efficiently, bunching up your toga and asking you to hold it. Then he’s hovering his hot mouth over your mound before kissing you over your lacey panties. 

“Mmm,” he hums into you and traces the crease of your thighs with one hand, following the line until he’s softly running his fingers along the edge of your panties, the tips of his fingers barely dipping beneath the hem as he moves towards your core. You watch, staring down with your mouth parted as he holds your gaze. 

He teases you, running his fingertips along your seam over the soaked fabric, tapping and teasing at your swollen clit through the fabric as he watches your needy expression morph into frustration. You shift, spreading your legs wider, but he stops you with a large hand on each thigh. 

“Hold still,” he orders, and you feel compelled to listen. He pulls your underwear down and off of you, then hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, spreading your cunt open. “That’s better.” 

You can’t tell if he’s talking to himself or to you. You don’t have a chance to ask before he’s burying his face into your soft, wet pussy. Your breath hitches at the sensation and one of your hands flies out to grab at the door frame to steady you, while the other one digs into Oberyn’s hair. 

He’s unbothered by your dramatics. Oberyn moves with enthusiasm, drawing his tongue along your slit and pressing into your sex with his jaw. His facial hair tickles at your tender skin deliciously and his nose grazes over your clit as if his face were molded to maximize your pleasure. He changes his strategy, mouthing at your clit and sweeping his tongue over it like he’s making out with it, with the same passion that he kissed you with outside and a moment ago. 

You can feel it starting to build. Your hip flexors straining and thighs starting to tremble as your breathing gets quicker and more shallow. Closer and closer and closer. He’s perceptive and diligent. Repeating the same tricks that make you moan and dig your fingers into his hair. 

You’re stuck on the precipice, so close but not quite there. Your eyes roam around the dimly lit room, the bed, the bookshelf, the tapestry pinned to the wall, the collection of cologne bottles lined up on the desk, the mirror on top of the desk–pointing right at the bed. 

It starts to frustrate you. Not the decor choices, but the tension and the building pressure. You squirm slightly, hoping the smallest adjustment will somehow bring everything into a sharper focus. You let your eyes close, letting the roar of the party downstairs fade, focusing on the pressure and warmth of Oberyn’s mouth. 

More, more, more. 

It’s all you can think as Oberyn stays dedicated to getting you off on his tongue. He sucks firmly at your clit before releasing you with a slick sound. He hovers, mouth fanning warm air over your core looking up at you. His eyes are lit with hunger.  

“More?” he asks in his deep, rich voice. 

You can’t tell if you were chanting out loud or if he’s somehow reading your mind. “Please,” you respond with a needy edge, “more.” You catch the sparkle in his eye and the flash of a grin. He works you up again, towards the brink, relishing in your responses as you whine with need as he resumes holding you in a purgatory of pleasure.

Mercifully, he does give you more. Oberyn grips your thigh with one hand, steadying you, while he swipes two fingers along the length of your pussy once, twice, coating them in your arousal before plunging them inside of you. The increased pressure and friction from his fingers pumping into you causes you to moan. It’s a lower register than your breathy panting from earlier, layered with satisfaction as you can feel the anticipation starting to crest. 

“Don’t stop,” you beg, “I’m so close.” 

He doesn’t stop, groaning at your words, rumbling against you. That snaps the tension and you cry out his name and a string of curses as your orgasm hits. He doesn’t slow down when your cunt contracts around his fingers and he doesn’t lose focus when you shake and writhe against mouth. Not until you’re pulling him off of you, oversensitive and wrung out.  

Oberyn stands, wiping at his chin before pulling you in close for another breathtaking kiss. He walks you back toward the bed and you fall into it, pulling him with you. You tangle together, frantically, you want him inside of you now. He laughs softly against your hot neck, sensing your frustration. 

“Shh,” he murmurs as you huff with defeat. He moves deftly, braced over you with one arm, and freeing his cock with the other. Your hands stroke up and down his shoulders and back, and you hook one leg around his hip, encouraging him. “You want me to fuck you now?” he asks and you whisper a yes that turns into a gasp as he runs his tip through your soaked center. “And how do you want it?”

“Hard.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, sinking into you deeper and deeper, and pulling back, all the way out, then all the way in. “Fuck,” he says to himself as he sets a quick pace, slaming his hips into yours making the bedframe creak with every thrust. If the noise from the party didn’t drown everything else out, you might be embarrassed to have strangers over hear, but you would be surprised if anyone could hear a thing. And, even if you were louder than the party, you could care less about being caught as Oberyn fucks you into the mattress. 

“Harder,” you goad him, hoping for more. To your horror he pulls out of you completely, but you swiftly find yourself flipped onto your stomach as he lifts your hips and enters you from behind. You press back, meeting his thrusts, bouncing off of his hips until he presses his palm between your shoulder blades. He forces your chest into the mattress, holding you still so he can fuck you like he means it, with enough force that all you can do brace yourself and ball your fists, twisting the bedding between your fingers. 

With your cheek against the bed you can watch your reflection in the mirror. It’s hot, even with your togas draped and bunched up, you look good together. It makes you grin. He catches you looking and turns, meeting your eyes in the mirror before watching your bodies. He grips your hips firmly and you can barely keep your eyes open to watch as he continues. 

He overwhelms you with his stamina, keeping up a pace that has your mind feeling blissfully fuzzy. He says something else before folding over you and slipping his hand around towards your clit, determined to feel you come around his cock. You’re so close already, it’s only a moment, a few more thrusts, before shuddering beneath him. He tries to fuck you through it, but you clench and constrict around him so tightly that he pulls out while you’re still moaning. 

You can hear the slick wet sounds as he strokes himself, cursing under his breath again, before you feel the warmth as he comes across the swell of your ass and your fluttering cunt. You sink, dropping your hips and relaxing onto the bed while he catches his breath. Oberyn squeezes at your thighs, offering praise you don’t quite hear, then he’s slipping off the bed. He cleans you up with a towel, but you remain still for a little longer, enjoying the satisfaction and the sweet ache from the intensity. 

“Take your time,” he tells you, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder. It’s gentle. You murmur a thanks at him before breaking into an airy giggle. It makes your ribcage shake, bouncing slightly on the mattress, realizing that Liv is going to die when you tell her you can confirm her roommates story. Oberyn doesn’t question your reaction. 

He pauses to readjust his toga and his hair in the mirror. Once seemingly satisfied, he turns back towards you, watching you sit up. “I’ll see you out there,” he says with a smile before he slips out of the room. 

You linger for just a little. Allowing yourself the privacy to revel in the sweet satisfaction of the post-sex chemicals flowing through your body. You let yourself grin while you check your phone to see where Liv is at. 

You take another minute, using the mirror to fix your own appearance, aiming for a slightly less obvious version of I just got railed, before meeting your own eyes. For a sobering second you remember you didn’t get a real answer about if he has a girlfriend. He sure as fuck doesn’t act like it, you decide. You shake off the thought. 

He might be a frat bro, he might be a piece of shit, all you know for sure is that he is hot, a good kisser, and he knew how to make you come. Three things you didn’t think you’d find in one guy under this roof. You give yourself a final onceover before heading out of the room and down the stairs. 

You don’t see Oberyn in the first few rooms you pass. You keep looking; he couldn’t have gone far. You’re barely finished that thought when you spot him in the kitchen. The sight makes you stumble, shooting a hand out to the wall to catch your balance. 

He’s leaning casually, with his hip against the counter, as a starry-eyed girl looks up at him, giggling flirtatiously, as she lays a hand along his bicep. 

It’s in slow motion. The way he looks at her hand, the way his eyes trail along her arm, over the curve of her breasts, and down her legs before flitting back to her face with that same sinful smirk you just fell for. 

Your shoulders drop. It’s not like you were planning your wedding or that you even thought a date was on the table—but you didn’t think he’d be on to the next girl before you made it down the stairs. 

You start to recenter yourself, reaching to check your phone again before you look for Liv. 

He sees you before you can mind your business and plan your next move. Catching your eye through the doorway. Before you can formulate a reaction, you’re stuck, held in his gaze. He winks at you again, only this time there’s no question if you were making it up. He winked at you and despite everything, it makes your whole body tingle. 

“I saw that!” Liv shouts into your ear, wrapping an arm around you. “You have to tell me what the fuck that was about. But first can we please get pancakes or cheese fries?”

You don’t bother turning back for a second glance as you follow Liv toward the front door. 

You must understand though the touch of your hand

Makes my pulse react

That it's only the thrill of boy meeting girl

Opposites attract

It's physical

Only logical

You must try to ignore that it means more than that

Oh, oh, oh

What's love got to do, got to do with it?

…..

tags for babes, but no presh:

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@ivoryandflame

@magneticecstasy 

[simmervlogs]

Hello Simmers, welcome to Château Chantlilly, a family home (5 bedroom, 3 bathroom) in Windenburg.

This beautiful Château, also known as the "Chantlilly", sits on a moat. Elegant, fully restored property dates from the second third of the 18th century. The high quality construction is in the classical style, topped by a large triangular pediment pierced by an oculus. In front of the main courtyard, the château is stood upon a moat, surrounded by walled parklands greeting you with twin curved stairways. As you cross the threshold, you are immediately imbued with the soul of this timelessly elegant residence.

The immaculate lush walls reflect the light that streams in through the tall windows and high ceilings .On the ground floor, an entrance hall leads to a informal living room adjoining a dinning room. The reception rooms are extremely refined and open, with marble flooring and beautiful fireplace topped by a trumeau mirror.

To the left of the entrance is a a beautifully appointed kitchen, bar and pantry which also connects to the the dinning. Two twin curved staircases greet you to both wings of the home with an attractive wrought-iron banister leads to the upper floors.

On the second floor, 3 spacious and luminous ensuite, decorated in light tones and with parquet flooring, have retained their mirrored fireplaces. The ground floor is also equipped with another bathroom, office, external suite for guests or your in-laws and a very private art gallery hidden behind the bookcases.

Meticulous restoration, carried out with an obvious love of authenticity, has preserved the unique character of this Château. Exceptional services have brought modernity and comfort to this residence, while preserving its soul.

Enjoy the lush gardens, waterfall, ponds and pool while you gaze upon the elegance that is now your home, Château Chantlilly.

Please note almost everything is CC and the items were not created by me! Please do support and directly download from all the creators mentioned! I have attached the CC folders convenience ONLY.

Thank you once again to all CC creators!

DOWNLOAD (Free on Patreon)

[incorrect-hakuouki]

Transitional Dining Room An expansive image of a transitional dining room with beige walls, a tile fireplace, a gray floor, and porcelain tile is shown.