#my great return is imminent | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jujutsubaby · 7 months ago

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⛓️ lonely at the top ⛓️

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader x true form!sukuna ☆ summary: you are the great ryomen sukuna's favorite healer from the heian era, reincarnated in the modern time. for centuries, you have also been his favorite lover. but when sukuna returns one day with a shockingly handsome blue-eyed sorcerer, you cannot help but feel threatened. no matter what sukuna's plans are for this newcomer, however, you're willing to do whatever it takes to stay on top. ☆ tags: slight canon divergence, smut with a lil plot ¬‿¬ ☆ warnings: MINORS DNI!!!! handjob, oral sex (m/f!receiving; yes this includes sukuna's abdomen mouth lmao); voyeurism; exhibitionism; fingering; p in v; anal; overstimulation; masturbation ☆ a/n: ok the promised (and voted upon) sukugo fic is FINALLY here my loves :3 i had to add reader in the mix too though bc girls just wanna have fun. also writing this kinda made me a sukuna truther :/ maybe i understand gege and sukuna kaisen just a little bit more now :/ ANYWAY ENJOY!!! ☆ wc: 8k

when you had heard of Lord Sukuna's imminent duel with the infamous Satoru Gojo, you knew it would be prudent to practice your Reverse Cursed Technique. you had always been Lord Sukuna's favorite healer (among other things), but that had been the Heian Era. this new time was as foreign and strange to you as the delicate new body into which you had been reincarnated.

and so, when Lord Sukuna re-enters the compound you share with his other most trusted servants and loudly calls for you, you are prepared. flexing your practiced fingers and preparing to channel positive cursed energy, you hurry to the threshold from which his voice had emanated and immediately sink to a kneeling position, your head turned to the floor. as expected, Lord Sukuna had come straight to the healing quarters.

"you summoned me, Lord Sukuna?"

Lord Sukuna approaches you; his footsteps sound heavy and slow. he is exhausted, you can tell, but he does not seem grievously injured as you had expected. so why did he call for you?

your head still inclined downwards, you stifle a gasp as you notice rivulets of blood darkening the floor beneath you and staining your pristine robes.

"you will heal him," Lord Sukuna says simply. you hear a heavy thud hitting the bed you had prepared so carefully for your lord. actually, mystifyingly, you hear two thuds. you chance a glance upwards, and your heart drops when you see that Lord Sukuna has indeed deposited severed halves of some unfortunate sorcerer's body onto the bed. from his pallor, you can tell he has already lost quite a lot of blood. this is beyond any healing you have ever performed in any era. you briefly wonder whether your beloved lord is setting you up to fail when he speaks up.

"i trust you understand that failure is not an option."

"yes, my lord."

"y/n," he says more quietly. you nearly shudder at the sound of his tongue lavishing attention on your name. "i keep you in my employ because you are the only healer worthy of serving me."

it is a statement of arrogance, but it is also one of reassurance. someone who has served as his trusted servant for as long as you have learns how to understand his sometimes esoteric cues.

you feel a firm hand grip your jaw and tilt your face upwards. you are greeted by a sight you have not seen in centuries: Lord Sukuna in his true form, in all his magnificence. his tattoos stand starkly against his glistening torso. his arms, now four in number as you recall, are corded with muscle; the grip his massive hand has on your face could easily crush your windpipe — and yet, it does not. it never would, so long as you serve your purpose. you cannot help but bask in his glowing charisma. this was the sorcerer you were so proud to serve.

"it is my honor to serve you, my lord. i will heal the sorcerer, i swear it."

noticing your desirous eyes raking over his form, his cruel mouth forms a lazy smirk, which is mirrored in the mouth of his stomach. the effect is equal parts unnerving and disarming.

"come, y/n," Lord Sukuna says, pleased with your reaction to his true form. "let us see your patient for the evening." he seizes your shoulders with his second set of arms, and indelicately pulls you to your feet before marching you towards the bed.

Lord Sukuna must still be unused to inhabiting his true body after possessing so many weak mortal vessels, you muse, for he is being far rougher with you than usual. you find that you do not mind, however. in spite of the grave situation, you feel heat embarrassingly beginning to pool at the apex of your thighs at the feel of Lord Sukuna's thick fingers and their crushing grip on your narrow shoulders.

the man in the bed is muscular, although nowhere close to Lord Sukuna's physique. that said, he looks youthful, and strong enough to have put up a good fight. perhaps he would even be strong enough to recover from his horrendous injuries under your expert healing hands.

but who was this man? why was Lord Sukuna so insistent upon healing him? and how was he injured like this in the first place?

your eyes wander to his upper half, and you pause on his face. handsome, with delicate features and a shock of messy white hair. his eyes are slightly agape, and you note that they are the uncommon blue of a summer sea.

blue?

you gasp in spite of yourself and turn to your master, momentarily forgetting that propriety dictates that you not maintain eye contact with someone so many levels above yourself.

"forgive me, Lord Sukuna, but...Satoru Gojo?"

Lord Sukuna does not seem to mind your lapse in etiquette, as he meets your gaze with a grin.

"he put up a marvelous fight. talent like that should not be extinguished, even though most sorcerers doubtlessly dream of being defeated by somebody like the great Sukuna," he says.

Lord Sukuna was always able to make such grandiose statements about himself that would sound asinine coming from any mere man. with the great Lord Sukuna, statements like these are simply the truth. he has always been so far above any human you have known, which is why his fascination with Satoru Gojo is leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. mortal humans, including you, need to know their place. that maxim should include Satoru Gojo, too.

Lord Sukuna's voice shakes you from your reverie. "oh, and y/n?" his normally commanding voice is alarmingly soft, and laced with...something. something typically reserved for his favorites, like you.

"yes, Lord Sukuna?" you ask, carefully keeping your head angled downwards towards the bed so as not to repeat your earlier eye contact gaffe.

you watch as Lord Sukuna reaches a hand out towards Satoru Gojo's listless face to slap the young man's elegant cheek.

"do be gentle with your technique. i want this one staying pretty for me."

ah.

so that was why Lord Sukuna had taken such pains to rescue Satoru Gojo.

with that, Lord Sukuna turns on his heel and leaves you to your patient.

you anticipated healing Gojo's injuries to be your greatest challenge yet, but it is far more taxing than you ever could have known. your Reverse Cursed Technique was meant for healing injuries, but what had happened with Gojo's body was almost beyond an injury.

it had taken you hours in the first place to even figure out a way to use your RCT in this situation, until you had realized that delicate threads of cursed energy still emanated from Gojo's body. even if it was physically severed, his cursed energy still lived, if only barely. it is a testament to the sheer magnitude of Gojo's cursed energy that some still survives; no wonder he had impressed Lord Sukuna so.

you use your RCT to trace the threads of cursed energy from one half of Gojo's body to the other; in doing so, you are able to treat the severing merely as a thinning of cursed energy, and thus as an injury rather than a full separation. you breathe a sigh of relief as you observe one thread of his torso knit itself back together under your watchful eye.

now to repeat the process for the entire circumference of his body. you stretch and sigh; this would be a long night. at least you have a way forward now, though. disappointing Lord Sukuna was never an option.

as you continue reconnecting the flesh and gristle that makes up Satoru Gojo, you find yourself increasingly unable to ignore his objective beauty. as a healer, you always possessed great admiration for the physical form, and Satoru Gojo just happened to be a prime specimen. perhaps the fact that Lord Sukuna had found him to be a worthy adversary (and prize, you remind yourself) also influenced your judgment.

you feel a strange intermingling of lust, jealousy, and envy at the thought. you are well aware that Lord Sukuna has a prodigious sexual appetite that requires countless mortals to satisfy, but you have long been secure in your position as his favorite plaything. now, however, compared to Satoru Gojo, you cannot be so certain; he possesses beauty and power in spades.

you shake your head. this is neither the time nor the place to be evaluating Lord Sukuna’s judgment; favorite or not, it is your duty to complete the task he so graciously entrusted you with. you are not sure of how long you continue to sew Satoru Gojo’s body back together, but you are aware that the sun’s citrus glow has long faded.

Lord Sukuna had always reminded you of the sun, although you have never been bold enough to tell him such a silly romanticism. but in its radiant beauty, burning power, and distance alike, you see your liege. much like the sun, Lord Sukuna had shone on you, and in his light, you had blossomed. you had been an obscure village herbalist’s apprentice until he had found you; you had hardly even been aware of your latent healing powers. it had been Lord Sukuna who had seen your immense potential, and who had honed your sorcery to the level it was today.

even the fact that he had burned down your village the day he whisked you away had done little to dim your fervent gratitude.

the moon begins to rise higher in the night sky now, its light filtering through the shuttered windows of the healing quarters as you continue working. Satoru Gojo’s natural beauty takes on an ethereal glow when bathed in moonlight. the battle between him and Lord Sukuna must have been a sight to behold; as you reconnect his body, you feel his cursed energy growing and twisting into itself with taut strength.

Finally, when his halves become whole again, you sit back and admire your handiwork. The full moon that night meant you did not require a lantern, but the moon is setting now, and you want to give Satoru Gojo’s body a final check.

as you rise to leave the room for a lantern, you feel a hand clasp firmly about your wrist. you gasp softly.

“have i died? am i dead right now?” Satoru Gojo’s voice is hoarse with disuse. you had not expected him to be conscious again yet given the state of him; you suppose the fact that he is is a testament both to your healing ability and to his innate strength.

you sit back down, noticing that he does not loosen his grip on your wrist.

“you are still alive, Satoru Gojo, for i have healed your wounds,” you reply matter of factly.

his blue eyes, now that they are fully open and conscious, are even more shocking than they were when you first glimpsed them earlier that day. they seem to glow from within; they look like they hold full worlds within their depths.

“that’s weird,” Gojo continues. “i could’ve sworn i died and went to heaven seeing as i’m looking at an angel right now.” only when you see that he is grinning impishly at you do you realize he is flirting with you.

your lip curls in distaste, and you extricate your hand from his grasp.

“i am no angel. i am a sorcerer, as you are. you were as good as dead, split clean in half, but i channeled my Reverse Cursed Technique to heal you,” you conclude with pride.

Gojo looks down at his stomach, shiny and pink with fresh scar tissue.

“you must be some sorcerer, then. i was positive i was a goner back there. i’m not sure even Shoko could’ve healed me like this. really nice work,” he muses. he is right, of course. you are unsure of who Shoko is, but Gojo is correct that very few sorcerers could heal such severe injuries. all the same, you loathe the warmth you feel at his admiration; Lord Sukuna’s confidence should be enough for you.

“anyway,” Gojo continues, “who are you exactly? where am i?”

“Lord Sukuna brought you here,” you say. “I am his healer.”

surely the mention of his formidable foe would shake Gojo’s arrogance. you relish the fear that Lord Sukuna’s name seems to inspire in other mortals.

this was unfortunately not the case with Gojo.

“that’s sweet, the ol’ guy wanted me healed up, huh?”

you bristle. “you will address Lord Sukuna with respect!”

Gojo merely laughs at your response, which infuriates you further. “i, for one, fail to see why he deigned to save such an insolent whelp like you,” you snap, succumbing to your rising temper.

“really?” Gojo asks, his blue eyes full of mirth. “guess you don’t get the old guy the way i do. i’m pretty sure I understand why he wanted me alive.”

“then be so kind as to enlighten me,” you say sardonically.

“i’ve been the strongest sorcerer around for basically my whole life,” Gojo says. in spite of the sarcasm in your voice when you asked him to explain himself, he seems sincere. “fighting Sukuna was the first time i felt even remotely challenged. he even technically beat me, i guess.”

he watches you, waiting for you to respond. when you are still silent, he continues.

“i’m sure he feels the same way i do. i know i challenged him the way he challenged me, and for sorcerers at our level, finding a true adversary is hard. once you do find one, letting go can be just as hard.” Gojo sounds wistful; you wonder if he speaks from experience.

“i guess what i’m saying is that it’s lonely at the top,” he finishes; his earlier amusement is gone, and he seems somber now.

you find that you pity Gojo. to be a sorcerer can be a lonesome existence. Lord Sukuna, while alone in his caliber, at least has you and his other servants and devotees to warm and distract him. does Satoru Gojo have anyone?

you reach a hand forward and begin tracing the planes of his pale face with your fingers. he lacks Lord Sukuna’s raw power, but his beauty is exquisite. Gojo leans into your comforting touch.

“how can i ever thank you for bringing me back to life?” he murmurs. as your hand passes near his lips, he stills it with his own and kisses it softly.

you gasp sharply and withdraw your hand as though burned.

“that was wrong,” you say urgently. “you cannot touch me like that.”

Gojo sighs. “you really are devoted to that old man, aren’t you?”

“we both belong to Lord Sukuna,” you reply, emphasizing his proper title. “you must respect his authority over us both.”

“maybe you belong to Sukuku,” Gojo says; you cringe at his inane nickname for Lord Sukuna, but you suppose anything is better than merely calling him an old man. “i, on the other hand, only belong to me, myself, and i.”

you exhale in irritation. no matter how great a sorcerer Satoru Gojo is, his arrogance is certainly grating. part of you wishes you had left him severed in two — at least he was quieter that way. you recall Lord Sukuna once saying that the greatest sorcerers always seemed to possess even greater mental eccentricities; Satoru Gojo certainly proves that theory.

to your annoyance, as he speaks, he takes your hand in his again. you are bemused to find, however, that you do not wish to remove it. his hands are wiry, yet so powerful. there is power within your hands as well, you muse as you intertwine your fingers almost instinctively. your irritation, admiration, and pride are all coalescing into a confusing burn of…passion. how inconvenient.

“you are rather presumptuous, are you not?” comes a voice from the doorway. you gasp and tear your hand from Gojo’s once more, immediately prostrating yourself before Lord Sukuna. Gojo makes no move to even bow his head, meanwhile. typical.

“rise, y/n,” Lord Sukuna continues. “you must be giving our guest a rather unsavory impression of me with your theatrics.” slowly, you raise your face from the floor and see Lord Sukuna has crouched before you. he takes your face in one of his hands. you shiver — it has been so long since you have felt the touch of his true form. “am i not a benevolent master to you?” he murmurs; his face is so close that you can feel his warm, humid breath on the shell of your ear. it is all you can do not to tremble from desire.

with you still reeling from the close contact, Lord Sukuna rises smoothly back to his feet and saunters to Gojo’s bedside.

“you seem in high spirits, Satoru Gojo. i feared i had gone too far with you,” Lord Sukuna says, his tone casual as though he had not cloven the younger man’s body in two just hours earlier.

“oh, i can take much more than that, old man,” Gojo says, innuendo easily discernible from his tone. you cannot stop yourself from rolling your eyes; from what you had seen thus far, Satoru Gojo seemed to flirt with everybody he meets. that said, the image of Lord Sukuna and Satoru Gojo, of what Gojo’s playful tone was implying…your mind’s eye is running amok, loathe as you are to admit it. doubtlessly Lord Sukuna’s true form and the sleepless stress of the evening are perverting your mind in unforeseen ways, you reassure yourself.

Lord Sukuna seems tickled by Gojo’s irreverence, and you try not to feel envious. “is that so?” he inquires.

“a credit to your lovely healer, i gotta say,” Gojo continues, his shocking blue eyes twinkling as they meet yours. “she has a rare talent. you sure you need her? i have half a mind to take her with me when we’re done here.”

you know Gojo is being insufferable right now, and moreover irreverent to Lord Sukuna. you know that. but he’s just so handsome, and so appreciative, and so talented in his own right…you feel powerless to stop the breath from catching in your throat, flustered at his attention.

you find yourself thinking about how his smooth skin felt beneath your touch; cool, then warm as you breathed life back into him with your reverse cursed technique. taut, pulsating with the cursed power and blood in his veins.

so lost are you in your meditations of Gojo’s flesh that you nearly miss what Lord Sukuna replies.

“y/n certainly is a first rate sorcerer,” he says, flinging a fond look over his shoulder at you; predictably, you preen at his praise.

“what i enjoy most about y/n’s skill,” he continues, “is her fastidiousness. she leaves no stone unturned. in healing, jujutsu sorcery…and everything else. isn’t that right?” he asks you.

“y-you are too kind, Lord Sukuna,” you bluster, trembling like a newborn fawn. you are usually so comfortable with him, but the presence of a stranger is making you look upon Lord Sukuna with new eyes again.

“and i trust you have been equally thorough with our guest?” Lord Sukuna proceeds.

“of course, Lord Sukuna.”

“how disappointing to hear you lie to me, y/n,” Lord Sukuna tuts. “i know you have not been fully attentive to Satoru Gojo’s recovery.”

your face grows hot. what did you do wrong? you take pride in your work, after all; you would never do a sloppy job no matter the patient, but especially not for one so important to Lord Sukuna.

“my lord? i am afraid i misunderstand you. i have followed only the most careful healing protocols,” you say; this is as close as you dare come to talking back. Lord Sukuna is kind and merciful and great, but much like the fire he commands, his warmth can flare uncontrollably and singe everything in its vicinity if you are not cautious.

“have you made absolutely sure, for example, that Satoru Gojo’s new body is completely functional?” Lord Sukuna prods. he has now turned to face you. one set of his arms is crossed over his chest, while the other is crossed behind his back. his face looks stern, but the mouth on his stomach betrays a smirk.

“Satoru Gojo seems to be functioning as i would expect, my lord,” you reply.

“show me,” he says, stepping aside from Satoru Gojo’s bed. his body had been obscuring Gojo from your view, but you see now that the younger sorcerer has been watching the exchange with a hungry grin. there is clearly a subtext you are missing, but you dare not speculate what it is.

you approach Gojo and perform an examination of his body, as you would any of your patients. you test his reflexes, and check his pupils’ dilation and contraction (during the latter, they look like just a pinprick lost in an ocean. nobody ever warned you of the six eyes’ beauty). when you palpate his ribs, he groans slightly; you feel the sound vibrate through your fingers.

“he is recovering as i might expect, Lord Sukuna. of course, we must keep him under observation, but —”

Lord Sukuna cuts you off with an impatient click of his tongue. “i will not tolerate your inattention to detail!” he growls. your heart starts beating violently, feeling like it’s throwing itself against your breast from within.

you fight to keep your voice steady.

“please forgive my stupidity, my lord,” you grovel, prostrating yourself once more. “i truly am unsure of what more you want me to check. please, if you could just help me, i promise this will never occur again.”

you are mortified to feel the white-hot prickling of tears at the corners of your eyes. Lord Sukuna had never spoken to you this way, not even when you had just begun working for him. back then, you had known next to nothing compared to your knowledge now. you rack your useless brain for something, anything, you might have missed, and come up empty. stupid, stupid girl. you just know this is the fault of Satoru Gojo, that irritating, gorgeous interloper. it is even more humiliating to be berated like this in his presence.

at Lord Sukuna’s silence, you direct your eyes as high as they can go from your position on the ground. you cannot see his face from this angle but you see his broad second mouth has gone from smirking to smiling outright with all its teeth. is he…not actually angry?

you raise your head a little further, emboldened by the sight, and see Lord Sukuna himself smiling down at you, his two expressions identical.

“what a pretty sight you make,” he coos, “on all fours looking up at me like that. my pliant, obedient girl.”

he lowers one of his hands to cup himself through his loose pants, and you clench your thighs together; you are immune to neither the effect of his words, nor to the sight before you.

he seamlessly bends down and raises you to your feet; as he holds you against him, it’s all you can do to hold yourself back from rutting against his massive body. but Lord Sukuna has always valued your restraint, and you know he has something planned for you.

he rotates you now so your back is to him, and cages you tightly to his body with all four arms. you gasp; you have forgotten this delicious sensation, of being so thoroughly engulfed by Lord Sukuna that it is almost as if he has subsumed you entirely. he has turned you to face Gojo, who has been watching the scene unfold with great interest. you feel Lord Sukuna’s hardness growing behind you, but you resist the urge to grind into it and remain perfectly still. his pliant, obedient girl.

“now, go attend to our guest,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a finger.

“yes, my lord,” you breathe, so aroused that you are nearly in pain.

he then bends down until his lips tickle the back of your ear, making you shiver.

“show Satoru Gojo that that mouth of yours is meant for greater things than just making pretty little apologies to me,” he murmurs; you feel his voice reverberate through your whole body. the last thing you want to do is detach yourself from Lord Sukuna right now, but you know what he desires of you, and you are always so eager to impress him. this is one of the things he loves about you, you know.

you return to Satoru Gojo’s bed as though to continue your examination; this time, however, you straddle him, desperate for just an ounce of friction to relieve your throbbing arousal.

“i thought you had forgotten about me,” he pouts.

“stop speaking, you stupid, beautiful man,” you reply, before tearing a kiss from his mouth. his lips are still slightly chapped from his hours of unconsciousness, and you rake your teeth across them. he groans into your mouth as you roll your hips until you feel him beginning to grow hard beneath you; the sensation sense frissons of pleasure through you, but you are single-minded in your task. you break your kiss abruptly and sit back, smirking at the pathetic whine Gojo lets out at your sudden absence.

Gojo is only wearing a simple robe you had dressed him in after repairing him; this provides you with convenient access to conduct your examination. you withdraw a vial of oil you had kept in the pocket of your own robes (admittedly in anticipation of Lord Sukuna’s arrival), spread it across your hand, and begin stroking him. “it seems that everything is in working order,” you remark as his erection grows under your expert ministrations. he moans and bucks into your hand.

“p-please…” Gojo pants. the sound of his neediness goes straight to your core, which is rapidly growing wetter. this is not the time to pay attention to yourself, though; not when you’re attending to a patient.

“‘please’ what, Satoru Gojo?” you tease; you know he has wanted to feel your mouth around him ever since Lord Sukuna alluded to it. you are enjoying watching this powerful sorcerer squirm by your hand, however. you glance over your shoulder and see Lord Sukuna is stroking himself off as well, his pants doffed entirely. you gulp; it has been so very long since Lord Sukuna has been in his own body; the sight of his girth is making you flush with desire.

meeting your gaze, Lord Sukuna blows a kiss in your direction, and you bite your lip to keep yourself from whining in sheer need to have him inside you. the sooner you obey him and pleasure Satoru Gojo, the sooner you may have the honor of feeling him stretch your walls; and so, you turn back to your guest.

Gojo has the most pathetic look in his stunning blue eyes, driven half mad by yet unfulfilled lust. his plush lips are twisted in a pained grimace. you see him moving his hand to give himself the pleasure you are denying him, but you hold it in place firmly.

“you’ve been such a patient boy so far; don’t ruin it now,” you coo, nipping his lower lip. you then undo his robe and crawl backwards until your face hovers over his engorged cock. you place a light kiss at its warm tip, licking off a bead of precum, before looking back up at him through heavily lidded eyes. Gojo tilts his head back, exposing the delicate white expanse of his throat.

“Please, y/n!” he cries. “i need you!”

the sound of your name on his needy tongue is having quite an effect on you, and you finally take pity on him; he only just recovered, after all. in one smooth motion, you take as much of his length as you can in your mouth. Gojo groans at the feeling of the warm wetness engulfing his cock, and you begin moving your head up and down, complementing the motions with your tongue as you cup his balls with your free hand.

“feel free to gag her,” Lord Sukuna calls from his corner of the room. “her little throat can take it.”

Lord Sukuna instructing Gojo on how to fuck your mouth is turning you on more than you can handle, and you moan involuntarily around his length. Gojo threads his fingers through your hair and pushes your head down on him; you swallow and feel him filling your mouth, his tip battering your throat mercilessly. you can tell from his increasing pace, from the guttural growls the feeling of you is drawing from him, that he must be getting close.

finally, finally, you feel a strong, calloused, beautifully familiar pair of hands dig into the flesh of your hips, and you could cry in relief.

“you have been such a good girl for me,” Lord Sukuna hums sensually. “and i always reward loyalty.” you buck your hips backwards into him, raising them to provide him readier access to your dripping cunt. you feel the pads of his thumbs stroke over your ass as his tongue begins lapping at your folds. his second tongue, you can tell, from its breadth and roughness plundering you. for all its added size compared to his primary tongue, however, Lord Sukuna is no less exacting with it, and he is soon circling your clit with painful accuracy. he does not wait long before giving you the pleasure you crave, and almost embarrassingly quickly, you come all over his massive tongue with a wanton moan.

with the sound of your orgasm, and the feel of your moan vibrating around him, Gojo fists your hair even more tightly and releases hot ropes into your throat with a growl.

“swallow it all,” Lord Sukuna commands, reaching forward to stroke your hair. “swallow it down for me.” you are nothing if not obedient, and you dutifully swallow Gojo’s whole load, not letting a single drop go to waste. Gojo leans back on the headboard, spent, and relaxes his vice grip on your hair. you pop your lips off him, licking them clean and smirking to yourself at your ability to have someone like Satoru Gojo at your mercy.

“i believe our guest needs time to rest before we continue,” you hear Lord Sukuna say from behind you. you turn and see that he is leaning back casually on one of the other beds in the healing quarters. “let us leave him for the time being, y/n.”

you are a little disappointed to be stopping already, but you comply; Lord Sukuna is probably correct that too much excitement for Gojo could hinder his healing process. you make your way towards the doorway, yawning a little, when you feel a firm hand close around your wrist. before you have a chance to react, you’re roughly tugged backwards, spinning directly into Lord Sukuna’s firm chest.

“i don’t believe i dismissed you, did i?” he purrs into your ear, and a thrill of excitement slithers through your body.

“did i?” he repeats, pinching the tender skin at your waist at your silence.

“n-no,” you gasp, hardly able to focus over your excitement for what will inevitably follow.

Lord Sukuna twists his hand, making you hiss lightly at the pleasurable pain.

“‘no’ what, y/n? how is it you should address me?”

“no, Lord Sukuna,” you manage to breathe out. he lets out a low chuckle that reverberates through his chest before bending you over an empty bed, holding both your wrists behind your back with one of his hands as he pushes your head down with another. you are already incredibly aroused when you feel a third hand begin to explore your slick folds.

“already so wet for me, are you?” he teases; you can hear the smirk in his voice. you can only whimper in response. he easily inserts two fingers into you, eliciting a sharp cry when he hooks them around and lightly tickles the sensitive spot that can make you come apart.

“now,” you manage to grind out between your teeth. “please, my lord…i need you inside me now…”

“making demands now?” Lord Sukuna taunts. “we certainly are feeling cheeky this evening, aren’t we?”

in spite of his words of chastisement, however, Lord Sukuna seems intent on granting your wishes, and you feel his stiff head, moist with precum, brushing once, twice, thrice against your entrance, building up friction. then, in one decisive motion, he enters you at last; Lord Sukuna was, by all definitions and especially mortal standards, extremely well-endowed; however, you have been ready for him for so long that his length faces little resistance. you sigh in relief at the feel of his massive girth stretching your walls, making you feel so full and complete. at times like this, you feel that your body was created to accommodate him, that being used like this by him was your most sacred purpose.

you push back against him, trying to seat him even more deeply within yourself. in response, he strokes your hair affectionately. he then pulls out slightly, and with one more thrust, he bottoms out in you with a groan.

he begins to drive into you with greater speed and urgency, two of his hands holding your hips in place so tightly that you know his broad fingertips will leave bruises. he adjusts his angle, pushing your face into the mattress and bending over you until your bodies are flush, and he continues at an unrelenting pace. your pleasure continues to build as he bottoms out again and again inside you, his massive second tongue slavering lasciviously over the curves of your back, until you come for the second time that night. you cry out in ecstasy without shame, feeling your walls clench even more tightly around Lord Sukuna. he groans at the sensation and sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he empties himself into you until his come drips down your thighs.

utterly sated, you begin to crawl out from under Lord Sukuna’s massive form, your legs trembling with exertion, pleasure, and pain alike. your shaky breath leaves your lungs all at once when he abruptly flips you on your back. he is so imposing and beautiful, hovering over you like this, with an inscrutable look in his cruel, narrow eyes.

“i believe i already told you, y/n,” he growls, “you are dismissed only when i dismiss you. and i am nowhere near through with you yet.”

holding himself up with two arms, he takes your hand with a third and draws it down until it is around his cock, which is already hard again.

“look what you do to me,” he murmurs, before using your hand to brush his tip against your still-tender vulva.

“i’m not yet ready, my lord,” you whimper weakly, trying to wriggle out from his grasp to no avail. you gasp as he grinds himself between your thighs and against your slickened entrance, growing harder still. the friction almost surpasses pleasure to pain after your powerful recent orgasm, and you keen loudly, unable to help yourself. “i-it’s…too much…i can’t take it,” you protest, tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation.

Lord Sukuna promptly silences your noisy cries by clamping a swift hand to your throat.

“i alone dictate what you can and cannot take,” he declares, gently pressing on the sides of your neck and slipping a hand between your thighs as you squeeze them together. with uncharacteristic tenderness, he then kisses the tears from your cheeks.

“and i know you can take this.”

he stares into your eyes until you assent with a silent nod, and he smiles.

“good girl,” he whispers, before using his hand to pry your thighs apart and positioning himself properly. he buries himself inside you again, this time with minimal resistance — between your and his combined juices, you are sopping wet now. encouraged, he hitches your leg over his shoulder for deeper access to your core and begins thrusting into you in earnest. from this new angle, he drives right into your most sensitive inner point, and you are sure your cries can be heard throughout the compound. you hardly care who can hear you now, though; you hardly even pay attention to Gojo, who is now looking fully alert and wide-eyed at the show he is getting.

you dig your fingernails into Lord Sukuna’s sinuous shoulders and cry out again and again until your voice grows hoarse.

“say my name,” Lord Sukuna commands between his own grunts of pleasure.

“L-Lord Sukuna,” you moan, your voice shaking as his thrusts increase in pace. he wraps his hand around your throat again.

“my true name, y/n” he growls. he drives into you faster; you know he is close, and it is your privilege to bring him over the edge.

as soon as he releases his grasp on your neck, you reach up, stroking your hand through his unruly hair before pulling his ear down to your lips. “as you wish, Ryomen,” you purr into his ear. he moans and nearly folds you in half as he drives into you at a diabolical pace. as he reaches his peak, he withdraws his length from you and unleashes his load all over your stomach, marking you as his own; the thought that you had this effect on him, this power over him, multiplies your own pleasure, and you climax once again, your legs shaking and toes curling in sheer bliss.

Lord Sukuna rolls off of your body, both of you breathing heavily.

“now, y/n,” he pants, “you are dismissed. i shall attend to our guest in your stead.”

your exertions have exhausted you, but you are still obedient to him before anything else. and so, covered in both of your comes, his saliva, and a sheen of your own sweat, you bow deeply, and excuse yourself from the room. you are so utterly sated, so pleasurably sore, that all you can think of is taking a hot bath and resting.

well…almost all you can think of.

Lord Sukuna’s final statement has piqued your curiosity, however. and that is why, rather than returning right away to your own quarters, you find yourself kneeling on the floor peering around the curtain closing off the medical wing. if you are perfectly silent and still, you can remain undetected. besides, you reason, Gojo is still your patient, and so it behooves you to keep a close eye on his recovery.

(why leave everything to the imagination, after all?)

by the time you are settled in from your covert viewing spot, you see that Lord Sukuna is standing by Gojo’s bedside. the younger sorcerer is fully awake and alert now, peering up inquisitively with those blue eyes of his.

“is it finally my turn now, then?” he asks; you note that he sounds slightly petulant and roll your eyes. was he really jealous now, of all times?

You can only see his muscled back from where you sit, but you know from how his shoulders shake that Lord Sukuna is laughing at Gojo’s insubordination.

“you have seen what i demand, Satoru Gojo,” he says, crossing both sets of arms. “do you believe you can keep up, even in your state?”

you know that Lord Sukuna’s line of questioning is only pretense, of course. you recall why it was that Lord Sukuna had brought back Satoru Gojo for you to heal. and you remember his request — i want this one staying pretty for me, he had said.

“of course i can ‘keep up,’” Gojo scoffs. “can you keep up, old man? you seemed to get pretty tired just then.”

you grimace at Gojo’s disrespect, but Lord Sukuna is made of sterner stuff, and he just laughs even louder before clapping a pair of hands around Gojo’s beautiful face. you note that Gojo flinches, if only for a split second.

“such a mouth on you,” he hums, brushing a thumb across Gojo’s bottom lip. “just look at you. we will have to do something about that attitude.”

“like what?” Gojo asks, his eyes glimmering with anticipation that you can see even from where you sit. “what exactly is it you would do, Sukuku dear?”

“you seem to have your own ideas already. what is it you would have me do?” you can hear Lord Sukuna’s grin, even if you cannot see it.

Gojo simply winks.

“here’s an idea. why don’t you split me in half again?”

Lord Sukuna laughs heartily before leaning forward over Gojo’s bed, slightly obscuring your view.

“what an idea, Satoru Gojo. would you enjoy that?”

for some reason, Gojo does not answer right away; you try to crane your neck around to see what is happening, but he speaks again soon.

“y…yes…” he responds, suddenly breathless. “i believe i w-would.”

suddenly, you realize that, while you cannot see all of Gojo’s body from this angle, you can see one of Lord Sukuna’s arms moving rapidly up and down, and you can see a blush beginning to color Gojo’s delicate cheeks. your breath catches in your throat as you put together what it is you are witnessing. scrambling for a better view, you decide that both men are occupied enough that you can creep back into the corner of the room and hide behind one of the beds for a clearer angle.

“and are you certain you can truly take me? all of me?” Sukuna inquires, continuing his businesslike tone as though he is not currently stroking his rival off.

“mm-of course,” Gojo keens.

“‘of course’ who?” Lord Sukuna prompts, repeating the routine he loves to do with you.

“forget your own name, Sukuku? you gettin’ senile?” he pants with a grin that is equal parts lascivious and mischievous. this is bratty behavior Lord Sukuna never had to suffer from you, so you wonder with eager anticipation how he will respond.

Lord Sukuna merely tuts in response. “what a shame. whether you can accommodate all of me or not, we will have to fix that smart mouth of yours first.”

he fists a hand in Gojo’s fine white hair, easily palming his full skull as he pulls back until the blue-eyed sorcerer is looking straight up at him.

“i happen to know the best cure for a smart mouth,” Gojo says with a feral grin. he darts his tongue out and swipes it swiftly across Lord Sukuna’s swollen tip.

“get on with it, then,” Lord Sukuna growls, roughly forcing Gojo’s head onto his length. you grimace at the vigor with which Lord Sukuna rams himself down Gojo’s throat which looks so dainty to you, but he slurps eagerly on it; it seems Satoru Gojo is never one to shy away from a challenge.

watching Lord Sukuna use Gojo’s throat so mercilessly, and Gojo meeting the task with such enthusiasm, you find yourself unable to resist snaking a hand down between your legs, where you feel heat and tension building once again. as you toy with yourself, careful to remain as quiet as possible, you see Sukuna pull Gojo’s mouth from his still-hard cock with a wet pop.

“you have proven yourself to me,” he says, releasing his grip on Gojo’s hair to caress it tenderly back from his face. “and it is time for your reward.” you hold your breath; this should be a treat for you, as well.

with a grip on Gojo’s shoulders, he raises him from the bed; Gojo, still a little shaky on his legs, braces himself back against Lord Sukuna’s body. Gojo is by no means a small man, but his form is still engulfed when he is up against Lord Sukuna; you bite your lip at the thought and rub yourself faster.

Lord Sukuna reaches around Gojo to the bedside table, where you had deposited your vial of oil, and lubricates his fingers with a few drops. his hands should still be slick with all of your combined secretions, you reason, but Lord Sukuna always takes extra precautions given his immensity. then, gently bending Gojo back over, he inserts one finger. Gojo throws his head back against Lord Sukuna’s chest and groans as he gets accustomed to the feeling, and he moans outright as Lord Sukuna inserts his second finger.

the sight and sound send hot coils of pleasure through you, and you have to clap a hand to your mouth to keep yourself from mirroring the sounds Gojo is making.

“are you prepared for me to split you in half again, as you so eloquently put it?” Lord Sukuna purrs against the shell Gojo’s reddening ear.

“yes!” Gojo cries without hesitation.

“would you beg for it?” Sukuna prods, not one to give his rival what he is asking for so easily.

“please!” when Sukuna makes no moves to proceed, Gojo cries out again. “please, Lord Sukuna,” he breathes. “please make me yours.”

“good,” Lord Sukuna says, leaves a bruising bite at the nape of Gojo’s neck. “well said.” then, preparing his length and using both sets of his arms to position himself and Gojo optimally, Lord Sukuna enters him with agonizing slowness. you are unsure of whether you even thought to hold yourself back from moaning this time, but it is drowned out in any case by Gojo’s own needy vocalizations.

as he pumps in and out of Gojo, all three of you are overcome by your own pleasure, by the complicated dynamics you have brought into the medical wing and worked out in such a raw and wild way. your earlier feelings of confused irritation for Gojo dissipate as you watch his beautiful form twisting in paroxysms of pleasure; in him, you see yourself. as the two men climax at nearly the same time, scattering their pearly semen across the sheets and each other, you find yourself peaking soon after, tears streaming down your face in sheer joy.

As Lord Sukuna settles Gojo back down into the bed for him to continue his recovery, he gives him a fond pat on the head.

“you were magnificent, Satoru Gojo.”

the sorcerer gives a little self-satisfied smile before falling into a deep slumber nearly immediately, and you make a mental note to ensure that all the exertion did not compromise his healing in any way. before Lord Sukuna can turn back around, you gather your earlier discarded robe around yourself and quietly crawl back out of the room and behind the curtain, pleased with yourself for not being caught.

or so you thought.

“there is no need to exit on my account, y/n,” he calls, not turning around. you gasp before re-entering sheepishly.

“i apologize, my lord. i merely wished not to disturb you both, so i did not make myself known,” you explain rather weakly.

“i am pleased you… enjoyed yourself,” he says, finally looking over his shoulder at you with a knowing smile that makes you shiver with shame.

“you seem to have enjoyed yourself as well, my lord,” you reply; your envy of Gojo for earning Lord Sukuna’s attention is building back up, and you are unable to keep it from your voice.

“oh, y/n,” Lord Sukuna chuckles fondly, closing the space between you with long strides before he is clasping you to him.

“Satoru Gojo is a novelty.” he leans down until your mouths meet, and your breath catches.

“you, however,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot, “are mine. do you understand?”

“yes, my lord,” you breathe back into him, hardly daring to move.

he steps back from you first, calling for Uraume much to your confusion. the soft spoken chef, a long-time friend of yours inside the compound, appears with their characteristic quiet swiftness. much like yourself, Lord Sukuna has implicit trust in their devotion, and so often depends on them for personal tasks even beyond their formal role in the kitchen. as such, you have both built a mutual respect for one another. you nod a cordial greeting at them, which they return.

“you called for me, Lord Sukuna?” they ask with their careful diction.

“please draw a bath and get y/n cleaned up for me,” he says.

you look at him inquiringly, and he chuckles darkly, his previous tenderness all gone.

“you and your pleasure both belong to me, y/n,” he reminds you. “and i know i did not give you my permission to…enjoy the show.”

you gulp, and he turns back to Uraume.

“get her prettied up for me,” he continues with a devious grin of anticipation, “and bring her back to me so i may discipline her appropriately for her disobedience.”

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lovelykhaleesiii · 1 year ago

Note

hi there! would you be up to writing smut

Dark!Aemond? something for example with age difference, daddy kink, corruption kink, degradation and breeding? If you are comfortable then Reader could be a Targaryen what would be great but if you aren't comfortable then Stark is perfect too

Twisted, Beautiful Minds.

PAIRING: Dark!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Niece!Reader

WORDS: 2,677.

WARNINGS: mentions of warfare/murder, mentions of death-threats, swearing, degradation kink, choking, Daddy kink, corruption kink, breeding kink, manipulation, narcissistic tendencies, male oral receiving [cock sucking], mentions of p in v sexual intercourse.

A/N - you know I'm always down for some dark!Aemond... I want to also dedicate this piece, as a small bday gift to my wonderful friend Mar @aemondsmoon you have been an absolute light for me on this hellsite, and one of my dearest friends... thank you for always being there for me, and thank you for being you. you are an absolute gem, don't ever change. ilysm! 🤍

The turmoil and toils of war had finally come to an end, when Aegon the Elder, your Uncle, had commanded Sunfyre to set your beloved mother, Rhaenyra, and younger brother, Aegon III, to death by dragonfire. Your heart shattered, and mind numb, you were certain your own death was imminent in the moments after: at the very least, your Uncle would punish you with a dragonrider's death... Yet that would not be the case at all.

It seemed other plans had been set in stone. Chained and escorted by the Kingsguard to return to King's Landing once more, where you had only days previous, fled in fear, were you welcomed by the cold stares of the "Green" Council. Your chains removed, as neither the King nor his Mother, had seen you as a threat, you felt no purpose to resist nor to fight back... Your family dead, your will had died along with them.

"Fetch for Aemond. Tell my younger brother that his betrothed has returned."

His stern words felt incomprehensible in your thoughtless mind, lagging to understand the notion. You felt a cool, chill course through your weak body, rigid as though you had turned to stone, and yet, you were still breathing, still ever so present. No one had consulted you on such plans or schemes. And you were certain that Aemond himself would definitively refuse to marry the daughter of a traitor [as you presumed he would justify]. Your Uncle, Aemond, was a formidable man, fought against your late father, and had emerged the victor... And as the war, and the recent imprisoned days had taken its toll on you, your eyes darkened with the lack of sleep, unable to eat a crumb of bread, you did not look as you once had in your frivolous court, as he had once remembered you.

Although, as he sauntered into the room with such poise and stature, a certain charisma of that of a victor oozing about him, with not a single word exchanged, other than a devious smirk supplanted across his once serious face...It seemed there was more to the union than meets the eye.

Since your captive return to King's Landing, a place in which you had once considered your home, felt nothing more foreign. The stone sand walls that you had walked and run through as a child, now looked strange, the unfamiliar symbols of the Seven proudly hung around every available wall and space, gave an ominous feel. The halls seemed less brighter, even during the break of day, with the sunlight blatant in the sky, you instinctively felt as though a shadow lurked around every corner, attentive to your every move.

Dragonless, and defenceless, you were less of a threat than the younger Princess, Jahaera. The King and his Council had deemed you stable enough to roam the castle grounds freely, with a close knight in pursuit, only to ensure your own "protection" [as Aegon would admit that Aemond insisted], although you saw it more as means to deter you from being tempted to run away.

Regardless, Aemond had not spoken a word to you since hearing of the betrothal. He attended dinners with you in sight, although you rarely spoke yourself, mostly pleading and bickering with Alicent to remain in the desolate confines of your chambers. She was incessant about you joining the family, as the union was to be set in a moon's turn.

He dared not even to sit beside you: constantly at opposing ends. Although, there were rare occasions you had caught the younger Prince, brazenly staring at you with his one good eye. Unapologetically, his full attention spanned towards you, even if he had noticed you had become aware, he did not cease gawking.

Something about his looming gaze made you feel uneasy, very much on edge: a dark tinge to his violet eye, his pupils darkened as they seemed dilated. It inevitably made your stomach churn, only forcing you to resign in defeat, often excusing yourself to bed.

And often you were left undisturbed to recluse in your chambers... Although tonight, it seemed you were not alone in your ventures.

Retracing the exact steps you would take most nights, often on your lonesome return to your quarters: this time there was an accompanying sound in the distance, echoing down the hallway behind you. Heavy footsteps that caught your immediate attention. Slowly panning around, the shimmer of his lengthy, silver hair against the pale moonlight that peaked through the open crescents of the corridor, was alluring to your eye. Halting in your tracks, your breath hitched against your throat, all in trepidation, as Aemond effortlessly caught up with you in a few short strides. This was the closest he had ever truly come up to you, his towering height against you, made him even more daunting face to face.

"Running off to bed again, I see. And why is that?"

The sudden eruption of his deep, low voice breaking the stillness of the castle passage, startled you uneasily. You had exchanged many words and conversations with your elder Uncle before, during an ancient time long before the Dance had spurred. Although, the dynamics had inevitably changed, blood had been shed viciously and cruel words spat. Despite the same Valyrian blood coursing through your veins as of your betrothed, you felt solitary in their surrounding presence.

"I-I lost my appetite, U-Uncle. I wish to retire for the night," You aimlessly stutter, too weak to hold eye contact with Aemond, whose gaze remained fixated on you. His vibrant lilac orb luring over every inch of your timid body.

"Do you think it wise to roam the castle your lonesome self? Has the war not taught you otherwise? Is my niece still that same stupid, little whore I have known?"

His harsh remarks shadowed by that familiar, sly grin struck across his slim face, was plenty to furnace an incoming reaction from you, your blood boiling beneath your tender skin.

"Ah- tongue tied now, princess? Have I struck a chord with you, hmm? Mayhaps you are as weak as your father was... Now, how would he feel knowing you are to marry me? That I'll fuck his little girl, like the common whores he saw."

Your mind had no correlation to your hand, and yet the simmering rage that blistered through your body sent your mind to abyss. The small palm of your hand, strikingly latched across Aemond's face furiously. And yet, although a sharp stinging sensation poured across your hand, Aemond remained unfazed and sturdy. It seemed you had smacked the grin across his face, and in its stead, that familiar, unnerving dark tinge in his eyes scorned across at you.

Before you knew it, Aemond gripped your sides firmly, forcing your body forward, as he harshly shoved you against the cold, stone wall.

"You think that wise, whore? After the mercy I fucking showed you. I could have your fucking hand for that, or worse your head. My pretty wife's head on a spike, I'll have it right outside my window."

The cruelty that oozed from his precise lips was relentless. You wanted to burst into tears or more, burst into flames there and then...

"Do you know how long I have waited to have you under my very touch? All the sacrifices I made, the arguments I fought against my own Council to keep you alive? Ungrateful fucking bitch. Did your Daddy not teach you to be a good, obedient girl?"

One of Aemond's calloused, rough hands reached up hastily, his long fingers wrapping just so lightly around your throat, as his thumb gently stroked at your lips. His viable eye ogling tentatively over your mouth, smacking his lips innately.

"I'm your fucking Daddy now. Teach you how to be a proper lady, and a good fucking wife. I'm going to fuck that pretty pussy of yours, till you are dripping of me. I'll have you begging like a pathetic, stupid whore. I'll fuck you till I have heirs of my own, till I see fit that you have disgraced your extinct, traitorous bloodline."

"A-Aem, U-Uncle-" You breathlessly whimper in fear: freshly, swelled tears glaze your vision, as they begin to clear with each shedding streak.

"What did I just fucking say? I'm not your Uncle anymore, bitch. I'm your fucking Daddy. You would be helpless without me. Probably dead without my doing. You fucking owe me."

"Y-Yes-" Another breathless whimper, although Aemond's grip loosened, his other hand began to slowly move its way over towards your breast. His uninjured eye moving in motion with his hand, eagerly wandering over your bust. That same, very hand, began to keenly grope at your plush side, kneading at your breast tenderly, it felt foreign and sensitive under his strange touch.

"All fucking mine... Finally. Did you really think, I would let some insolent lord have you to himself? I'd start a war for you, I won the war for you. And now you're going to repay me, just so-"

A mindless moan flew out of your wet lips, catching you abruptly by surprise, and by the looks of it Aemond, as his blackened pupil dilated with a ravenous hunger, his ears pricking and leaning forward in delight.

"I'll have you moaning for more, precious. Now on your fucking knees-"

Even with the hatred that roared deep within your belly, you felt reluctant to retaliate, as you knew Aemond would effortlessly overpower you. As he had in your youth, when you were caught in a brawl with him, often ending with him wrestling you to the ground. And after his detailed spill of such vile threats, you dared not to risk the second chance of life, you had been granted.

Your knees hit the concrete floor with some brutality, although you regained from the ache. As you steadied your propped position, your hands gripping tightly at Aemond's slim waist, he began to undo his grey, washed out trousers.

The sheer sight of his cock, was intense enough to have you questioning whether you could even take him. Although slim in girth, his length was extraordinary. A reddened tip just oozing lusciously with a white, clear film glistening over the crown.

"Suck Daddy real good, bitch. Show me that, that mouth has other good uses than for talking back."

Your attention lurking from below, dropping from Aemond's face to his cock and back up once more to his face: the sudden change in his mood shifting was palpable. The momentary, light-hearted look of ecstasy dismantled as a cold, unsettling gaze resumed across his handsome face, lingering over your kneeled state.

"Make me fucking repeat myself one more time, whore and I'll treat you worse than a whore. I'll have you forget that you are a Targaryen princess."

Aemond's large hands found their way at the base of your skull, teasingly stroking your loose strands away from your face, within a few seconds the sudden shove towards him, left you physically speechless. Your mouth slightly agape, was enough for Aemond's stiffened, pulsating tip to propel its way into your tight mouth. The friction of his hard cock against your silky, warm flesh inside, was enough to set Aemond's breathing into a speedy pace. Lean chest heaving, the mindless groaning on his behalf was somewhat alluring. You had never seen nor heard such sounds or vulnerability in Aemond before.

"F-Fuck, that feels so fucking good- Just as I prayed to the Gods. I'm going to make your mouth so numb, so fucking filthy of me, you'll be tasting me still in the months to come."

No coherent words exchanged from below his waist, only muffled moans and breath hitches, as you sulked with crave. As much as it infuriated you, pained you to admit, the feeling of Aemond's rigid, throbbing cock in your mouth, was elevating. You had to admit, in your youth, previous to the blood that had been shed, you had a childhood feverish crush on your elder Uncle, although thought it unlikely that anything would flourish from it.

"Seven Hells. Such a pretty whore, with a pretty mouth. J-Just the p-prettiest whore in the Seven Kingdoms."

With each plunge, rhythmically bobbing backwards and forwards, the raw taste of Aemond's cum, tastefully filling your mouth to capacity, as a mixture of his reside and your own saliva oozed from your crevices. The dreading thought of being caught in such a contentiously vulnerable position, especially before being wedded, was disturbing enough, for you were not yet widely favoured by the Council...

"Ughh- Swallow and get up, whore."

Self-disgust stirred nauseatingly in the pit of your gut, as you reluctantly devoured small mouthfuls of Aemond's load, almost convincing yourself you would retch it all up in a matter of seconds. Much to your relief, you remained poised, meekly wiping away the mess across your lips, shying away from Aemond's unmoving regard. As you regained your normal pace of breathing, Aemond lent a hand over, grasping your undivided attention. With such ease, Aemond aided you, lifting you up to stand, before confining you closely between the wall and his heated body once more, closing whatever space was made between.

"Now let's see what that cunt has to offer."

His skilful hands hiking your layered gown up, making way for his arms to snake around your bare thighs, lifting you idly off the ground.

"Can't wait till the wedding to tarnish you, I've waited long enough."

A sudden bolt of lightening pain shot from within your inner thighs, as your tight walls stretched out ceaselessly to accommodate, as Aemond shoved his rigid cock inside. Your back flattened against the sandstone wall, its texture rough against the delicate silk of your gown. Burying his length deeper and deeper with each harsh thrust, his heavy balls collided with your silky folds as he vigorously pumped himself back and forth. His pace, although rough, remained steady. His raw, sensitive tip pummelling at your cervix, felt scorching inside your lower belly.

"And if I fuck you so good, that you begin to swell with my child... What would your dead family think of their precious daughter then, huh? These tits belong to me now, and the mother's milk that comes with it. Your entire being belongs to me now. That babe in your belly will be all because of me, and you'll fucking love every bit of it."

"I-I owe you my l-life, D-Daddy-"

The words mindlessly slipped from you lips, and yet it felt instinctual to say. As Aemond's mouth lapped at the sensitive crook of your neck, you felt the smirk of his grin against your skin, his sharp teeth faintly biting at your soft flesh.

"That's right, baby. That's so right my needy, little slut. You have a Daddy now that can really take care of you, protect you... Love you."

The epitome of his words, the calm depth in his voice, had reached its glorifying peak, as Aemond's hot load shot up directly into you, reverently coating your insides. Like some royal orchestra in unison to his final thrust, did a growling moan escape his lips, followed by an whisper of a swear. Leaning his exhausted, heavier mass over you, as he safely guided your legs back down to the surface, his breath densely hot against your ear, his outstretched palms cladded against the wall for support.

"Clean yourself up, Y/N... Wouldn't want anyone else to see you as the whore that you are, and get any ideas-"

His heavy breathing made his voice less formidable and more husky. Eyeing over your form, as you once more scoured and polished up the mess he made between your thighs, with the inner layer of your gown. You simply nodded in response to his demand, before hastily attempting to rush back to the confines of your quarters.

Yet, a firm pull tugged at your elbow, causing you to halt in your tracks, unavoidably.

"I will seek you out again tonight... Be ready for me."

general taglist - @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @hightowhxre @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @aegonslawyer

Aemond taglist - @megatardisbaby @harrypotteranna23-blog

credit for divider - @/itbmojojoejo

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narcoticv3nus · 2 months ago

Text

Lust for Life ꨄ Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kinktober Day III: Vibrator

summary: your new cute boyfriend finds your hidden stash tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, praise, a bit of degradation, fluff, kyle being the best bf ever, vibrators, overstimulation, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v, squirting, cursing, use of pet names, author does not attempt at accents wc: 3.2k a/n: this one is a little shorter just because the last one was very long but i still hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

As the evening descended, you found yourself sprawled out on your plush, velvety couch, wholly engrossed in the latest episode of your favorite TV show. The warm, golden rays of the setting sun gently filtered through the sheer, billowing curtains, casting a soft, ethereal glow across the room. Outside, the air was cool and crisp, carrying the unmistakable scent of autumn and hinting at the imminent arrival of colder weather. The changing seasons provided the perfect excuse to nestle indoors, surrounded by comfort and warmth, and fully embrace much-needed relaxation.

Kyle, your charming new boyfriend, phoned you just moments ago, inquiring if he could drop by for a visit. You've been in a blissful relationship for a few months, savoring every moment. Kyle embodies everything you've ever desired in a partner: he's compassionate, considerate, giving, and understanding. But he was also fun, and the sex was great. He was so attentive and in tune with your every need.

Of course you said yes.

You straightened up as the front door swung open. Kyle stepped inside, his athletic figure framed by the warm evening light. He wore a short white tank top for the summer, accentuating his sculpted arms and loose-fitting basketball shorts that swayed with his every movement. His skin glistened with a fine layer of sweat, indicating that he had just returned from a workout at the gym.

His radiant smile spread across his face as his eyes lit up upon seeing you, revealing a perfect row of pearly white teeth. Dimples formed on his cheeks, adding to the charm of his infectious grin. His captivating beauty was unmatched, leaving an indelible impression impossible to ignore.

“Hey baby,” you said warmly, striding to kiss him. He smiled as his lips met yours, his hand reaching up to keep you at a distance.

“I'm all sweaty,” he acknowledged with a soft chuckle.

“I don't care,” you grinned, gazing up at him. He sighed, shaking his head.

“I do,” he laughed. “Do you mind if I use your shower?” he asked, his eyes roaming over your figure as his hand cupped your cheek.

“Of course,” you answered, walking back towards the couch before lying on your side. You watched with rapt attention as Kyle removed his shirt and approached your room.

After seeing your expression, he promised, “Thanks. I'll be quick. " You hummed in response, unpausing your show as the door to your room clicked shut.

Through the thin walls of your home, you could hear the signature creak of the shower door hinge turning, followed by the steady percussion of water cascading down and meeting the smooth surface of the shower floor.

As you watched the show before you, the relaxing symphony of the shower’s white noise lulled you into tranquility.

When Kyle eventually stepped out, you could tell something was different. Yes, he had changed into a new pair of clothes, but his expression seemed off.

“You okay?” You asked, reaching for him as he drew near.

“Yeah, just had a...” Kyle paused, then cleared his throat lightly. “A surprise in the bathroom.” He smiled warmly, attempting to deflect the sudden tension in the air. A gap of silence filled the air, your heart rate spiking. “I found your stash,” he said, keeping his tone playful and casual as he sat beside you on the couch.

“My stash?” You questioned with a confused chuckle, your gaze leaving his as you tried to recall what he could be referencing. Then, it dawned on you.

Oh. you thought, That stash.

As your cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, you felt a wave of embarrassment washing over you, causing your face to grow warm and your eyes to drop in discomfort momentarily.

You felt Kyle reach for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Your collection...under the bed.” He chuckled softly, trying to alleviate your embarrassment.

“I didn’t mean to pry; I just tripped over the box on my way to the bathroom.” He looked into your eyes, sincerity shining through. “Everyone has their ways of unwinding. No judgment here.” He paused, letting his words sink in before adding, “But maybe next time you might want to find a better hiding spot, yeah?”

His dimples deepened with his teasing smile, attempting to lighten the mood while acknowledging his discovery's intimate nature. Internally, you appreciated Kyle’s openness and understanding. It made you see him in a new light, and you were more drawn to him. He silently vowed to respect your boundaries while embracing the opportunity to learn more about your needs and desires, whether shared or private.

"Well," you began, feeling a slight knot forming in the pit of your stomach as you struggled to find the right words. Your throat felt parched, and you could almost sense the weight of each syllable as it hung in the air.

“As long as you're not mad.”

Kyle shook his head slowly, a warm smile playing on his lips. “Why would I be mad?” He asked gently, his voice low and reassuring.

“It’s not like I’ve never seen one before,” he admitted, trying to ease your discomfort with a dash of humor.

“Some guys don't like it, I guess,” you said, your skin growing hotter. Images of Kyle holding your toys flashed in your mind: him looming over you, his once charming smile forming into a smug grin as he held it to your clit, overstimulating you, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of your overspent body. You shook the thoughts from your head.

“They think only they should make their girlfriend feel good.”

Kyle tilted his head slightly, observing your flustered state with curiosity. He took a deep breath before responding, sensing the tension in your words. “Well,” he began, his voice calm and steady. “I’m not like some guys.” He looked down at their entwined hands, squeezing yours gently.

“I believe in giving pleasure as much as receiving it. I’m glad you have your ways of taking care of yourself.” He lifted your chin, meeting your eyes with a reassuring gaze. “And I’d be more than happy to help you with that, too.” Kyle’s smile softened as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kiss, hoping to show you that your vulnerability was attractive rather than off-putting.

“Yeah?” His words excited you, and you couldn't help but lean in closer. Your hands gently rested on his shoulders as you kissed him back before pulling away, eagerly searching his gaze.

He smiled against your mouth as he trailed his fingertips along your jawline, feeling your pulse quicken beneath his touch.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, his voice husky with anticipation. He leaned back, his gaze roaming over your face, taking in your beauty and vulnerability. “What do you say?” he asked, his voice low and filled with promise.

As he looked at you with anticipation, you quickly nodded, a smile spreading across your face. You took his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers and gently squeezing him, urging him to stand up. Your heart raced excitedly, and you couldn't help but bite your lip, trying to contain the overwhelming rush of emotions surging through you.

Kyle rose to his feet with ease, your warm hand in his, your excitement a palpable force between them. He followed your lead, allowing you to guide him to the bedroom. Kyle took a deep breath behind you as you gathered your toys, trying to steady himself. Kyle stepped closer, reaching out to gently trace the curve of your waist with his fingers.

“Tell me what you like,” he whispered in your ear, his voice husky with want. “I want to make sure I do this right.” You shivered against him, and he pulled you closer, his arms encircling your waist protectively.

“Do you think…” you began, your voice trembling. Kyle has always been gentle with you, consistently loving and caring, never wanting to cause you pain or discomfort. He was soft and sweet, especially at the end, prioritizing your needs over his own.

“You could be rough this time?” You fiddled with his fingers, unable to meet his gaze.

Kyle paused at your words, his gaze dropping to your entwined fingers. He had known you to enjoy gentleness and care, so your request caught him off guard, but it also intrigued him. He could tell you were nervous, your body trembling slightly against his, but he saw the longing in your eyes.

He tilted your chin up with his finger, forcing you to meet his gaze, his eyes filled with understanding. “If that’s what you want,” he said firmly. “But only if you trust me.” He let the weight of his words sink in, searching your eyes for any hint of hesitation. He didn’t want to push your boundaries; he desired to give you pleasure.

“I trust you,” you promised, your voice small but heavy with desire.

Leaning down, he pressed a tender kiss to your lips; you savored the taste of him before he pulled away. He looked behind you at your stash of toys, and you could feel your chest twisting with anticipation. He reached for one of the vibrators, turning it over in his hands and examining its sleek design.

“Show me what you like,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I’ll follow your lead.”

You nodded, looking down at the wand in his hand, which he held so casually. You quickly began removing your clothes, starting with your shirt before shucking off your pants, leaving you in only your underwear. Hesitatingly, you took the toy from his hands before sitting back on your bed and staring at him.

Kyle’s eyes darkened, taking in every curve and crevice of your body. “Go on,” he said, his tone becoming more authoritarian. As he spoke, the velvety smoothness of his voice etched itself inside of you, twisting and curling until it was delicately wrapped around your soul, stealing your breath away.

You inched back even further before pressing the device’s button before releasing. Quickly, the wand buzzed to life, vibrating slowly in the palm of your hand. You looked up to him, suddenly feeling shy.

Sensing your apprehension, Kyle kneeled in front of you, his hands resting gently on your thighs, caressing the soft naked skin. His eyes fell from your face and landed on your chest. He inhaled, one hand reaching forward to cup your breast. You let out a small sigh at his touch, a whimper getting caught in your throat as his thumb brushed over your perk nipple.

With his other hand, he pulled yours toward you, urging the vibrator in your hand to press against your nipple.

“There,” he breathed, pressing it further as you whined at the sensation. “Sensitive?” he grinned. You stared down at him, his big brown eyes captivating you, enchanting you. You nodded silently, your other hand reaching out to touch him.

As Kyle watched you, his eyes filled with intensity, his free hand slid down to trace the waistband of her underwear. Studying for your reactions, he waited for your permission, his gaze flickering to meet yours, silently asking if he could explore further. When you nodded, he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, teasing your clit lightly.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He wanted to hear you say it and know he was pleasing you.

“More,” you pleaded, your breath coming in unevenly and your panties dampened with your arousal. “I need more, please,” you whined. It felt good, really good. But it wasn't enough.

With a low groan, he pushed your underwear aside and slipped two fingers inside your warm, wet heat. He curled them slightly, hitting the spot he knew would send you spiraling. Your hips rocked involuntarily, meeting his rhythm. He watched your face contort in ecstasy, your eyes fluttering closed and your mouth forming silent pleas. He wanted to devour you, to taste your sweetness and hear you scream his name, but he held back, savoring this tender moment of vulnerability between you.

“Like this?” he asked, his voice strained.

“Yes!” You keened, pressing the moving wand against your clit. Your hips were bucking wildly.

As your breath grew heavier, he increased the pressure, his fingers moving faster. He could sense your impending climax building like a wave about to crash over you both. Just as you were teetering on the edge, he leaned forward, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. Your moan vibrated against his mouth, sending shockwaves through him.

You reveled in the moment's intensity, your bodies moving together in perfect sync. Kyle broke the kiss, his gaze locked onto yours, watching you ride the wave of pleasure. He felt your inner walls tighten around his fingers, your orgasm rolling over you in shudders. Your cries of release were music to his ears. Kyle smiled softly at you as your body relaxed against the bed. He removed the vibrator from your grasp and set it aside, trailing gentle kisses along your chest and abdomen.

His fingers remained inside you, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through you. Kyle leaned up, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered sincerely. You blushed, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him into another kiss. He groaned as your nails scratched his scalp and shifted onto the bed, dragging you up further, barely breaking your kiss.

His tongue moved in sync with yours, sucking on your tongue and your lips as he took your wrists in his hands and placed them above your head.

“Keep these here, okay?” He commanded gently, his voice a soft rumble as he smiled down at you. You nodded your head in complacency, whimpering as he took your legs in his hands, pulling you closer and wrapping them around his waist. He quickly removed his shirt and pushed his pants down his thighs, his cock springing forward, erect and standing at attention. It bobbed against his lower stomach, already leaking pre.

His hand curled around the base, his smile dark as he looked down at you, flushed and submissive, with your hands obediently placed above your head.

“Such a good girl.” he purred. “Being so good for me.” You whined in response, your eyes glued to his twitching cock, already imagining how it's going to feel once it's inside.

Grabbing a pillow from above you, he placed it under your hips, supporting you with added comfort.

You swallowed thickly as he picked up the toy, switching it back on. He examined it for a moment before looking back down at you. “Don't worry,” he said. “I’ll take care of you.”

With another press of a button, the wand began vibrating faster, the buzzing growing louder in your ears before he pressed it against your clit, adding a bit of pressure before dragging it down your folds, teasing it over your hole before pulling it back up.

Wanton moans uncontrollably escaped from deep inside your chest, your legs kicking out at the sensitivity. “Wait, Kyle,” you pleaded, your body squirming, trying to escape the overwhelming sensation.

“No,” he answered, his eyes narrowing. “You asked me for this, remember?”

You tried squeezing your thighs shut, but he held one open, holding it to the surface of the bed.

“Put it in,” he commanded, his eyes looking to yours, his brow lifting when you didn't move right away. “Go on,” he reminded you, acting utterly unbothered by your inebriated state.

You whimpered but obliged, wrapping your hand around his veiny girth, sliding your hand across his tip to collect his essence, and dragging it back down to coat his cock for an easier entry.

As you guided him forward, he shifted his hips, leaning closer in his impatience. Once his tip caught, he didn't give you a single warning before he pushed forward and filled you up completely.

“Yeah…” he breathed, wholly entranced as you sucked him in with zero resistance, your gummy walls hugging his cock, clenching and unclenching as it beckoned him forward.

“That's it,” he smiled with an added groan, pushing his hips to the hilt, tossing his head back as you both moaned in unison. “Hold it steady,” transferring the toy back to you, he reached underneath your thighs and lifted until your ankles were resting by his ears.

At this angle, his tip was nestled right up against your sensitive spot, causing you to nearly scream when he immediately began battering his hips against yours, fucking you deep and rough just like you asked.

It wasn't long until you were cumming again, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you succumbed to the white-hot pleasure coursing through you.

“Yes! Fuck!” Kyle shouted as your pussy clamped like a vice around him, causing his hips to stutter. “God, your fucking pussy feels so good,” he whined, his eyes squeezed shut as his thrusts picked up in pace, losing their rhythm.

“One more…” he panted, his hand curling over yours, pressing the button once more until the wand buzzed at full speed. You practically screamed in response, pushing at his abdomen with one hand, trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure.

“I can't,” you cried, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Yes, you can, c'mon,” he growled, slapping your hand away. “Be a good girl; you can take it.”

You had no choice but to lay there as he fucks you until his pace slowed into deep grinds, circling his hips as his cock knocked around inside. His hand that was on your thigh pressed down against your lower stomach, applying just the proper amount of pressure as you neared your third release of the night.

“It's too much!” You squealed, your hands clawing at his forearms, trying to ground yourself to something. “Wait! I'm gonna pee!” You tried to warn him, kicking your legs out to try and get away, but he didn't budge.

“You're not gonna pee, baby,” he let out a breathless laugh, coming out of character momentarily. “Just trust me, remember?” his stoic gaze turned gentle once more before he pulled back, fucking into you at a much faster pace, chasing his high.

“Let go for me, c’mon.” he panted, his eyes screwing shut as his mouth fell open, expletives falling from his in deep shudders, sweat dripping from his brow and down his face.

You couldn't hold it in anymore, tossing your head back with a silent scream, arching your back almost painfully as clear liquid sprayed onto his abdomen and drenched the sheets below you.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, watching as you squirted all over him, some even reaching his chest as you pussy practically pinched him. “Fuck I'm gonna cum.” was all he said before thrusting into you one final time, shooting ropes deep inside of you with a groan that almost sounded painful.

“Turn it off!” You sobbed, trying to lift the device away from you. You gasped in relief as he took it away, tossing it somewhere onto your bed before he leaned over your body, taking your face in his hands as he kissed you.

You turned away with a whine, desperate for air, as he chuckled breathlessly. “Fuck that was good.” he sighed, pressing kisses to the column of your throat as he eased your legs back down onto the bed. You don't think you could've replied even if you wanted to.

“One more?” he teased, laughing at the pointed glare you shot at him.

“C’mon,” he grunted as he lifted you into his arms, walking towards your bathroom. “How ‘bout a bath?” he said, kissing your temple.

A bath doesn't sound bad at all.

main masterlist, rules

#tw:nsfw #tw:roughsex #tw: degradation #pretty boy kyle #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz smut #gaz x f!reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz x you #kyle gaz smut #kyle garrick #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #venus.cod #venus.kylegazgarrick

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macfrog · 1 year ago

Text

ride it, cowgirl cowboy like me chapter ten

hey dudes. anyone up for some dbf? i seriously can't thank you guys enough for all the love y'all show this series. blows my mind every time. i have been super excited for this chapter for a WHILE. might be my fave so far. who knows. you can grab chapters 1-9 on my masterlist and also my ao3 if ur feeling fancy. love u all sm!!!!!! ✨💘💫

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel picks you up from a girls’ night. you’ve plans for when you get home

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader isn't an astrology girlie (sorry), more pining beCAUSE, alcohol consumption + a mention of the devil’s lettuce, very quick bit of unwanted touching, even quicker bit of protective joel, soft!joel, softdom!joel, one tiny mention of daddy, protected piv sex this time (feeling conservative slutty max will return), reader rides him into the sunset, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing

word count: 6.7k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand. His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper. “There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”

You never believed much in the power of the universe. Astrology, moons, manifestation. Whatever. None of it ever really meant much to you. You knew your star sign, knew which cool little symbol resembled you, and that was about it. Everything past that was…confusing and, frankly, a little overwhelming.

However.

If the universe were to send you a sign, one huge, fluorescent, multi-colored, in-your-face sign, that it was on your side…this weekend might just be it.

Your dad’s downstairs, finishing up packing for his work trip. His departure is imminent. Sarah’s been in Nashville since last night. A series of texts she sent you at 3AM riddled with spelling errors and heart emojis tell you she’s been having a pretty good time so far.

You are Joel are…alone. All by yourselves. For a whole…twenty hours.

Can’t have it all, I guess.

Your eyes skim down the texts you sent him this morning, texts he is yet to reply to.

You: Merry Christmas!!!

You took his non-reply for confusion – he is almost fifty, maybe he doesn’t get the joke? It’s a pretty lame joke, anyways. Very lame. If your thumb hovers over the send button before you press it, it’s probably not that great a joke. And your thumb had most definitely hovered. So, you’d followed it up.

You: As in, today’s the day

You: I don’t mean it’s actually Christmas

You: I mean like, happy ‘we’re finally gonna be alone again’ day

You: Never mind

“Hello?” Anna’s voice cuts through your train of thought. “Are you even listening to me?”

You drop your phone, shaking your head clear of Joel. “Yep. Sorry. Just didn’t catch that last part. You froze.”

The image of her on your – pretty fucking dusty – laptop screen rolls its eyes, knowing you’re lying. “I don’t know whether to go with the pink or the black boots,” she says.

“Ain’t your dress yellow?”

Her head falls into her hands. She throws herself down onto her bed and slides her laptop closer. “That was, like, ten minutes ago. I’m goin’ with the pink strappy one now.”

“Pink does say rodeo.”

“Fuck you,” she snaps through a giggle. “Remind me what you’re wearin’, again.”

“Black hat, black boots, black dress.”

“You’re so boring.”

“Thanks. Really looking forward to our night out.”

Anna snorts and then stands back up, strides over to her closet and resumes rummaging. “Black jacket, too?” she calls over her shoulder.

“Uhuh,” you reply, glancing back down to your phone. “Although – it has rhinestones. And tassels. Not so boring after all, huh?”

Anna’s silence drags your eyes from the text thread back to your laptop screen. She’s frozen in place, twisted around with a dress in her hands, jaw on the floor. “Show it to me. Now.”

“Hold on,” you roll over and off your bed, your shoulder stiff from the position you’d been lying in, “I think I left it downstairs.”

“Tell your dad I say hey!”

You pad down the carpeted stairs in your socks, toward the sunlit hallway.

“Dad, have you seen my– Oh, fuck.”

As you round the corner at the bottom of the stairs, glancing over your left shoulder to the front door, your chest knocks into something hard. Steady. Strong.

Something you recognize the feel of before you’ve given him a proper look.

“Mind your step, baby,” Joel says, and your heart leaps.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” you whisper, peering around his body to look for your dad.

“He’s out front,” Joel tells you, then takes your shoulder and reels you in against his chest. “’m just here to help ‘im with his GPS.”

He plants a kiss on the top of your head and gives you a squeeze. Your head rests safely on his chest, arms link at his back. If you didn’t have plans tonight, and if your dad wasn’t, like, ten feet from you guys right now, you’d never let him go. Just follow him around, vice grip around his waist, surrounded by the smell and feel of him.

Not that that means anything. You’d do other stuff, too. You’re not…you know.

Your dad’s voice streams in through the open door and Joel releases you.

“It ain’t for workin’, Joel, I’m about to throw it at the f– Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey. What’s the matter with your GPS?”

You lean in to the tiny device in his hands. Joel’s elbow comes up to rest on your shoulder.

“Just won’t connect to the car. Every time I plug it in, it just…” He lifts his hands, screen loose in his fingers, and hands you a bewildered look.

You look at him, expressionless. “Why don’t you just use your phone?”

“Because I paid almost a hundred bucks for this thing, and I’ll be damned if I’m– Alright,” he stops himself, eyes shutting in exasperation, “I already explained this to him. I ain’t justifyin’ myself to the two of you.”

Joel’s laughing behind his hand, pretending to scratch his nose when your dad stalks off to the kitchen and throws the device down, snatching the instructions off the table.

The pair of you follow, both still trying to swallow your laughter. Joel wanders around the table and sits down beside your dad, fumbling with the screen. You dive into the coat closet at the bottom of the stairs and fish out your bejeweled, tasseled jacket.

“You lookin’ forward to your girls’ night?” Joel asks, eyes flitting up and down the leather jacket in your hands.

“Mhm,” you reply, opening your mouth to continue when your dad butts in.

“S’posed to be a girls’ night, but that boy Sam’s crashin’ it, ain’t he?”

“Well, we asked him.” You shrug. “It’s his night off.”

Your dad scoffs, shaking his head to Joel, who looks up to you with a confused expression. “’s the big deal with that?”

“Oh, wise up, Miller. He’s only goin’ ‘cause of…” He wags a finger in your direction, and a smirk peels across Joel’s lips.

“Is he, now?”

“Uhuh,” your dad replies, intense stare still on the instructions in front of him. “Makes no damn sense. I plugged it in using the cable they gave me in the box. Stupid thing…”

You shake your head to Joel, who’s still looking at you, bemused. He knows you and Sam are just friends. Also knows your dad is the most oblivious theorist to walk the planet. Just aiming his gun at the wrong target, is all.

“I’m gonna let you two get back to…that,” you say, turning to head back upstairs. “Anna says hi, by the way.”

Your dad’s eyebrows rise once, his eyes never lifting from his GPS. “Hi, Anna.”

“Hey, Anna,” Joel echoes, smirk on his lips.

“Not to you,” you throw back, hopping up the first step. You hear his chuckle as you disappear.

----------

Anna’s reaction to your jacket in person matches that over Facetime: a deafening squeal. A squeal which she repeats almost every damn time she sees you throughout the night.

“So – fucking – cute!” she exclaims for the fifth time, fingers dancing through the tassels. “And it goes so well with your hat.”

You sip on your cocktail, nodding enthusiastically, pushing your eyebrows up underneath the brim of the black cowgirl hat on your head. Trying to match her energy. Your mind’s elsewhere.

Joel texted you a few hours ago. Told you to have a good night, said something about Sam, but you were stood right next to the dude, so you quickly locked your phone and slipped it back into your clutch.

Now, standing with your back against the wall of Franks, watching Sam play pool with Eve, you feel safe enough to read over the message.

Joel: Have fun baby. Be safe. Tell Sam good luck from me.

You squint at the screen, pulling it away from your face and leaning back in to read it over. Good luck? The fuck does he mean –

You: Good luck??

He replies almost instantly.

Joel: Yeah. Good luck winning you over. Took me, what, a week?

Oh, fuck off. You roll your eyes and throw your phone facedown onto the table where Anna and Kara sit, about twenty minutes deep into a conversation you missed the beginning of.

Your attention turns to the room before you – brick-walled, metal dome lightshades hanging over each pool table. Glass-paneled door to your left leading back through to the main bar. For being a tiny bar on a backstreet, Frank’s is pretty lively. There are bodies everywhere, bumping by each other, drunken arms slung over shoulders, hips swaying with the soft rock song blasting from out front.

You imagine your dad here with Joel, maybe Hank and Bill, too. Playing pool, beer bottles resting on the felt while they take their shot. Or sat on the rooftop, sipping on a whiskey. Talking about you and Sarah. What does Joel say about you when you’re not around?

And what does he want to say, but can’t, ‘cause it’s your dad? What does he think, and bite back when it bubbles to the surface?

Your straw gargles, slurping up the last few sips of your drink. You lean over to Anna and Kara, holding your empty glass up.

“Another?”

They both shake their heads, and you nod, turning on your own back to the bar.

You squeeze between two older women, both dressed smart and sharp. One of them – clutching a Manhattan – shifts out of the way as you pass.

“…one more conversation with him about squash,” she tells her companion, “and I am gonna blow my brains out…”

You edge over to the bar and slot into a free space, propping your elbows up on the wood. One of Sam’s coworkers – her name escapes you – notices you and shuffles over, smiling sweetly.

“How you doin’?” she asks, running a damp cloth inside a tumbler.

“Good,” you reply. “Could I just get a Bud, please?”

“Sure thing,” she says, and reaches behind to grab one. You slide her a note and she hands you change, and then you’re on your way back to the pool room.

As you slink by the two women, a weight knocks into your shoulder, almost sending your beer flying out of your hand.

“Sorry,” a rough voice sputters on your left, and you glance in its direction. Some broad dude in a tight t-shirt.

“’s fine,” you mumble, clutching your hat; a smell of weed choking your throat.

He passes by behind you, one hand lingering a little too long on your waist, and you saunter back over to Anna and Kara.

“That dude stinks, right?” Anna whispers behind a cupped hand, and you snort.

“He smells like he’s having a good night.”

“We’re talking about Romeo and Juliet over there. We’re basically third, fourth, and fifth wheeling,” Kara says, nodding over to Sam and Eve, who’re finished their game of pool and have now graduated to darts.

“I don’t…think that’s a thing.”

“Eve asked me if Sam was single earlier,” Anna says, lifting her straw to her red lips.

“What?” Kara spits out, choking on her drink. “Eve has a boyfriend!”

Anna giggles. “He’s kinda an ass, anyway. Look at them, they’re so sweet.”

“You say sweet, I hear morally wrong.”

“Who says it’s morally wrong?” you chirp, alcohol pushing the words over your lips before your brain’s had time to stop them. Your fingers clutch your phone, still laying on the table where you left it. “You?”

“Uh, it’s cheating, dude. What if Nick found out?”

“’s not that big a deal,” you reply, phone screen lighting your face in a blue hue, “they’re just having fun.”

Anna points to you, lifting her glass. “Here’s to havin’ fun, I guess.”

Kara lifts her own reluctantly and they clink, but you’re distracted. Already typing a message to Joel. Bored. Drunk. Morally wrong.

You: What you doing?

Joel: Watching TV. What you doing?

You: What ya watvhin ?

Joel: None of your business. Go get another drink. Looks like you’re not drunk enough.

You lift your head with a giggle, almost ready to turn your phone around to Anna and Kara and say, look what the dude I’m sleeping with just text me. And then, thankfully, your good sense kicks in and you bring the screen closer to your chest.

You: Kinda bored. Wanna come home now please

Bored, horny. It all means the same.

Joel says he’ll be at Frank’s in twenty minutes. You rest your chin on your palm and watch as Sam cheers Eve for hitting bullseye.

“I think they’re cute,” you whisper.

Anna and Kara are already preoccupied, taking photos of one another across the table. Kara leans into you and you smile, flash blinding your hazy eyes for a few minutes afterward. A few more pictures, couple boomerangs of your glasses cheersing, and then your phone’s vibrating.

Joel: Outside. No rush.

That last part is where he’s wrong. There most definitely is a rush, and it’s in the form of the heat that starts to pool between your legs.

“Alright,” you shimmy off your barstool and stretch your back. “My ride’s here.”

“What?” Anna almost screams, her hand slapping down on the table. “You’re leavin’?”

You nod. “Sorry, babe.”

“Don’t babe me, traitor. It’s, like, midnight.”

“Uh, it’s, like, almost 2AM. I’m tired. I don’t know how y’all do it.”

She sighs, conceding, and agrees to walk with you to the front door. Kara and Eve stop off by the bar to grab another drink. Sam holds the door open for you and Anna and you’re hit by a wave of cold night air, instantly cooling your hot, sweaty skin.

“Is that…Mr. Miller?” Anna asks, mouth falling wide open.

You glance down the street and notice his black truck, parked up by the curb. “Mhm,” you reply, “my dad’s out of town, so he’s picking me up.”

“Can he take me home, too?”

Sam snickers. “Wow, Anna. That’s just…Wow.”

She shrugs, lips closing around her straw as she stares at Joel’s truck. Something inside you lurches at the idea of Joel sitting there, his eyes glued on you, watching everything you do, everyone around you. And then again at the thought of Anna and her doting gaze on him.

“Alright, I guess that’s my cue to skip.”

Anna pouts. “One more drink?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you scoff, patting her head affectionately. I got business to attend to.

You give her a quick kiss on the cheek and Sam wraps an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze before you’re wandering off toward Joel’s truck.

“Hey.” Something – someone – hooks around your elbow, and you turn back. It’s that same guy who stank of weed.

“Hi,” you reply, as sweet as you can, but trying to loosen his grip.

“Saw you inside, you out with friends?”

“Mhm. I’m just leavin’, my–”

“Few of us are headed upstairs. You wanna come?”

You glare at him a few seconds, before yanking your arm from his grasp. “Nah, no thanks. I’m leaving. Have a good night.”

You stagger off, feeling his eyes on you as you go. Joel’s truck headlights switch on, dazzling your eyes, and you quickly click around to the passenger side, throwing yourself in beside him.

Joel doesn’t say hey, doesn’t squeeze your thigh, doesn’t even look at you when you settle into the seat. Just asks –

“Who’s that kid?”

“Uh…not sure. Bumped into ‘im in the bar.”

“He give you trouble?”

“No,” you lean over the console, pulling your seatbelt over your body, and flash him a tipsy grin, “thought that was my job. Givin’ trouble.”

Joel doesn’t reply. Doesn’t take his scowl off the dude outside Frank’s, either. Your eyes meander across to his hand, locked in a tight fist around the wheel. Your smile drops.

“Joel. It’s fine. Can we go?”

When you lift a hand to the crook of his elbow and he feels your warmth on his skin, he tears his gaze away and it lands on you. Soft, gentle. His lip isn’t curled anymore. His brows lift.

His eyes watch your lips as you whisper the words to him.

“Want you to take me home.”

“’s go, pretty girl.”

----------

Joel refuses, no matter how many times you ask, how hard you bat your eyelashes, how many promises you make, to stop by a drive thru.

“Please?” you ask one last time before he’s pulling in to his neighborhood.

He shakes his head. “Look at that, we’re already home.”

“I ain’t takin’ no for an answer, Miller, not until the engine’s off. We’re still driving.”

He doesn’t reply. Just pulls up in his drive, cuts the engine, and looks at you. Shrugs. “Oops.”

“Fuck you,” you groan, sliding down in your seat. “I’m starvin’.”

“Make you a big breakfast in the mornin’, how’s that sound?”

“Wanted a Big Mac, but whatever.”

Your fingers fumble for the door handle, clicking it open. You roll out of the truck and stroll around to meet Joel at the driver’s side. He snakes an arm around your shoulders, steadying you as you walk up his porch steps and into the house.

“I’m fine,” you murmur, glancing around his living room.

“Alright,” he says, tossing his keys and kicking his boots off.

Your eyes settle on the TV screen, paused. Probably around the time you text him. There’s a crowded hospital room onscreen, doctors in dark blue scrubs, all surrounding someone lying on a bed, someone who looks pretty familiar…

“Is that…fuckin’…Grey’s Anatomy…?”

Joel chuckles, peeling your jacket from your shoulders.

“That’s Meredith! When she–”

“She fell in the damn river,” Joel mutters, placing the tasseled leather over the back of his couch. “Derek had to go in after her. Intense stuff.”

“Right? I told you it was good!” You smack his arm. “I can’t believe you’re watchin’ it without me.”

“I ain’t watchin’ it,” he protests, “it was just on, ‘n I needed something to keep me awake. I’m still rooting for Meredith ‘n George.”

“We can watch it from the beginning.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, moving over to him. “And then I can be over here all the time, and you can make me all the grilled cheese I want, and we can lie in bed and…do stuff.” Your chin rests on his chest, flashing him a toothy grin. Hands swinging in his at your side.

Joel’s eyes narrow, but there’s a smirk on his lips. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. I had a couple drinks. I’m not drunk.”

“H’many fingers am I holdin’ up?” Joel asks, raising his fist. You punch it away.

“Ha-ha,” you say tonelessly, and wander away from him.

“Baby,” he calls you from behind. Sure, you’re tipsy, and he can be a cocky asshole – especially when he has to take care of you, but that’s a sound you’ll never get tired of hearing. Baby. You’re his darlin’, his sweet girl.

You spin around, very nearly losing your footing, and he’s standing with an arm out, ready for you to take.

You smile dumbly. Meander over, and take his strong hand in both of yours, wrapping your fingers around two of his to let him reel you in against his body.

“C’mon,” he whispers, as you lean against his frame. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

You follow him up, knowing where he’s leading you. You’ve spent more time in there the last few weeks than you have your entire life.

His room is cool, not cold, but comfortable. It’s Joel all over; the muted colors, the décor, the smell that calms you as soon as you stumble over the threshold.

He sits you down on the edge of his bed and kneels, pulling your boots off one by one.

You giggle.

“You laughin’ at me?”

“You’re like my own personal tr…No, not trainer. Wait. Personal ch–”

“Chef?” he says, snorting. “Not chef. Try again, soberhead.”

“Oh, I dunno.” You throw your arms up as he sits your boots against the wall, then stands and takes your hat off.

“This,” he says, placing it on the nightstand at your side of the bed, “is very cute. I like it.”

“I’m cute, too, y’know,” you whisper, pouting.

He smiles, and leans down to give you a quick kiss on the lips, pointer finger under your chin.

“The cutest.”

“Ha!” you roar. Joel twists around you to undo the zipper at the back of your dress. “Joel Miller thinks I’m the cutest. Take that, Anna…”

He laughs. When he unzips you, he pulls the dress off your bare chest and down your legs. You don’t shy away, used to the idea now of him seeing you naked. Used to the idea of him seeing you in any vulnerable state; drunk, or naked, or in a sobbing mess on day two of your period.

You notice, even though you’re a tad dizzy with what alcohol is left in your system, that his eyes linger on your panties a moment before he turns and grabs a tee from a chair.

And something inside you ticks.

“Joel?”

He’s pulling the shirt over your head. It smells like him. Intoxicates you much more and much quicker than any drink you could order from Frank’s.

“Mhm?”

You feed both arms through the sleeves, swallowing the question you were about to ask. He’s standing up now, telling you to get into bed.

He walks over to his dresser and begins removing his own clothing. He only sleeps in boxershorts. Your eyes track him as he yanks his t-shirt up over his toned shoulders; fingers undo his belt, unzip his jeans. Everything is discarded to the side for now; he has something more pressing to attend to.

His best friend’s daughter, laying in his bed, a pool of wet forming in her panties.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

As he slips under the covers beside you, you pull off your underwear in one quick movement. Joel doesn’t seem to notice, or so you think; his arms immediately take hold of your waist and pull you against his body. You’ve gotten into the habit of sleeping pressed against his torso, his thigh between your legs. Joel settles comfortably with you draped over him, and lets out a deep sigh.

“Joel?” you whisper again into the darkness, growing braver.

“Hm?” he replies, starting to fall asleep.

You toss ideas over in your head. None of them good, you’re sure, but you’re getting desperate. How he can’t feel your damp core on his thigh, you’ve no idea.

But then, maybe he can? Joel doesn’t miss anything, especially not where you and your…arrangement are concerned. Can he feel you? Is he deliberately ignoring it?

Maybe he has something up his own sleeve?

“I…was just wondering…”

“Wondering what, darlin’?” His voice is muffled, spoken through unmoving lips. You glance up at his face. His eyes are closed.

You grow more desperate.

“…wondering what your body count is?”

You ask it as innocently as you can, your voice wavering on the words body count. It gets him, though, as his eyes blink open a few seconds after you say it.

“I ain’t tellin’ you that. Go to sleep.” He closes them again.

“I wanna know.”

He ignores you.

“Joel,” you moan.

He calls you by name now, and you’re not sure if you’re pissing him off or turning him on – or both.

“Go. To. Sleep.”

“I’m not tired, though. Not yet.”

In response, Joel lets go of his hold on you and rolls over without another word. It’d sting if you weren’t soaking wet right now, and didn’t have a strong hunch he was hardening under the sheets.

“Joooel…” you whine, sitting up on your elbow. No use.

You take hold of his shoulder and tug him back toward you, rolling him onto his back. Like a deadweight, he remains frozen.

“Ugh,” you groan, and drag yourself on top of him, knees either side of his waist, ass hovering. When you sit back onto him, your core lining up with his crotch, your suspicions are proven right.

He’s hard.

Not as hard as he can get, as you’d like him to be, as you’ve felt him before…but he’s hard.

“Joel…” you mewl into the darkness, starting to grind your bare center over his boxers. The friction feels good, so you apply more pressure.

“If you don’t stop that,” Joel’s voice finally grumbles, “I’ll be sleepin’ downstairs.”

“Sex in the living room sounds good to me.”

His eyes open. “We,” one hand comes up to point between the both of you, as if he doesn’t expect your sobering self to understand which pairing he means, “are not having sex. No sex tonight.”

You sigh, shoulders dropping dramatically.

“Huff all you want, baby, it is not happening.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because you’re a few drinks too deep and it’s three in the morning. I’m tired, it’s been a long night waitin’ for you, I–”

“So let me make it up to you. I ain’t even drunk anymore.”

“No?”

“Nuh-uh. Could count any number a’ fingers you put in front of me.”

“Funny.” He closes his eyes.

“Joel.” You drag your hips again. If anything, he’s harder than he was when you first sat down on him. “I had a few drinks, I’ve sobered up. C’mon…”

You bend your waist and lower yourself to align your lips with the side of his head, peppering the skin under his ear with soft kisses.

“I wanna ride you, daddy.”

This gets him. His eyes open again, staring up at the ceiling. His hands slowly come up to rest on your hips.

“Don’t– That’s low, even for you, kid.”

You giggle and straighten up. When your hands lightly trace down his chest, onto his midriff and follow the trail of hair to his boxers, he doesn’t stop you. Just watches from beneath hooded lids, tensing at each point your fingers touch.

You raise your eyebrows, watching his expression for any sign to stop, and it never comes. He remains in place when your fingertips hook around the waistband of his underwear, slowly pulling down.

Joel breathes in deep when you reveal the tip of his cock, springing up to rest on his lower stomach. You feel your core clench. If he’s not inside you in the next five minutes, you might scream.

Well, you’ll be screaming either way.

You look back into his eyes and tilt your jaw, asking for permission.

“Go on,” he whispers.

Your hands take him eagerly, pumping up and down his shaft, and his head falls back onto the pillow with pleasure.

“Uhuh,” you mumble, focusing on his solid dick, but desperate for more. You give him a gentle squeeze and a groan passes his lips, his grip tightening on your body.

You let go of him and grind your hips along his length, folds coating his shaft in your wetness. Joel’s humming, watching as you pull yourself up and down him.

Then, you lean forward, and your hands take hold of him again. You give him a couple more strokes, eliciting a deep groan, and then line his bare cock up at your entrance, practically foaming at the mouth to sink down on him already.

“Woah, woah,” Joel takes hold of your wrist, “slow down, cowgirl. I gotta get a condom.”

You huff as he leans over to his nightstand and opens the drawer. “Don’t want one, Joel, I’m on the pill.”

“No way, baby,” he says through a chuckle, silver wrapper in his fingers. “We already did that, one too many times.”

“So just pull out?”

“Nope.”

You sigh, frustrated.

Joel holds the packet out to you, smirk on his face like he doesn’t expect you to take it.

So, you do.

You steal it from him and tear the wrapper, fishing the rubber out between your two fingers. Pinching the top, you roll it down his shaft and pump up and down for good measure.

“Ready?” you ask, head tilted, cocky smile on your lips.

“Wait, wait,” he whispers, shoulders lifting off the mattress. He lifts the hem of your shirt, telling you, “Off,” before pulling it over your head, exposing your bare breasts.

He stares you down; legs wide open, straddling him, completely naked, nipples hardened, figure silhouetted against the slivers of light peeking through the shades from the streetlights outside. You’ve never felt so confident, mounted on top of Joel fucking Miller.

His eyes roll back and his head falls against the pillow. “Fuckin’ – knock yourself out, baby.”

You steady yourself with one hand on his chest, the other taking hold of his cock and guiding it to your entrance. You push his head through your folds a couple times, and Joel hisses at the feeling, before you sink down.

You stop after the tip the first time, but it draws the same reaction from you both. Joel groans even louder than before, and you moan as you push yourself back up.

Then, without warning, you sink the whole way down.

He’s so deep it brings tears to your eyes, so big that he’s stretching you out more than you thought possible, hitting all the right spots already before you’ve even begun.

Joel’s eyes are screwed shut, his grip on your hips digging into your skin so tight it almost hurts. His jaw is tight, holding back what you can only imagine are the neediest moans he could sound.

So, you decide to draw them from him.

You lean forward and begin bouncing, feeling his thickness pull out and push back into you, both hands on Joel’s chest now for balance. You’re whimpering, the burn of his cock stretching your tight cunt so good and borderline painful at the same time, but you don’t stop.

“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” Joel moans, opening his eyes to watch you ride his dick. “’attagirl, just like that.”

“Joel…” you cry, letting him bottom out each time, feeling his balls slam into your ass with each bounce.

“Yeah? You like that? Tell me, baby, use your words.”

“So – good – Joel – oh!” you shout.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl for me, huh?”

You fight against the urge to close your eyes; the pleasure between your legs and the knot beginning to tighten in your stomach are all you can see, hear, feel, but you want to watch him some more. You want to see what you do to him.

You lean forward even further, moving your hands to the pillow either side of his head, so you’re directly above him now. One of Joel’s hands comes to the back of your head, pulling you down until your foreheads are together, moans escaping your mouths only to be inhaled by the other.

Joel speaks to you quieter, through gritted teeth.

“Like ridin’ me, do ya? Like the way it feels?”

“Mhm,” you moan back, and he brings a hand down to slap your ass. You yelp. “Fuck…”

“You look so good, baby, so good. Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?”

Another stinging spank pulls a whine from you so filthy, so loud that you’re sure the neighbors will hear, even at this hour. Joel smirks back, resting his hand back on your hip, where he has a grip of you.

Then, he bucks his own hips, pushing into you deeper than before, so deep you see stars. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, panting through the searing pain so good that you never want it to end.

“Joel – I’m gonna – fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“That’s it, sweet girl, cum all over me. Let go, baby, I’m here.”

That does it. The coil snaps, your walls clench. Joel lets out a guttural moan as you throw your head back and ride him through your orgasm. He coos you through it, squeezing your hips, whispering, That’s my girl, doin’ so good, baby as your body rocks back and forth on his cock.

When you come back down to earth, your lids heavy and breathing staggered, you swear your body can’t take anymore. You feel so fucked out that you’re not sure you can sit up straight on top of Joel.

But he’s always been able to read your mind, and this is no different. He pulls himself up and into you, propped up with one strong hand on the mattress behind his back, the other wrapping around your waist. His cock is still buried deep inside you.

“Joel…” you whimper pathetically. “Can’t do it anymore…”

“That’s okay, baby, we’re gonna do this one together, alright? I got you. Can you do that for me? Just one more?”

You link your arms around his neck and lean into him; his strong form doesn’t shift, just takes on your weight and keeps the both of you upright as he starts to bounce you on his length again.

You’re overstimulated; your cunt swollen, fucked-out, drenched in cum, but Joel makes you feel so good that it’s impossible to let him stop. Your arms pull him in closer to your chest to steady yourself, and his groans echo in your ear.

“Good girl, that’s– that’s it, so fuckin’ tight for me, pretty girl.”

When it all becomes too much to take – Joel’s hand squeezing your waist, your clit rutting against the bottom of his stomach, his fucking cock buried so deep inside you that you swear you can feel him splitting you open – you push him back down onto the bed.

Once when you still lived in New York you read something in a Cosmo about spelling the word ‘coconut’ with your hips when riding a guy. You’d tried it a couple times with hookups, and it’d never done anything for you. They’d never done anything for you.

But here you are, nearing your second orgasm, on top of someone making such a mess of you that you brain can hardly compute to spell coconut, never mind your hips being able to round the shape of the word.

His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper.

“There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”

It’s all you need. It’s all it takes, by this point.

You brace yourself against his chest again, positioning yourself just right, and bounce on him until your vision starts to blur.

The noises slipping out of Joel’s mouth each time your bodies connect at the base of his cock push you closer and closer; every groan and whimper which passes his lips makes you sink your hips down even harder, pushing him deeper and deeper with every bounce.

“So – fuckin’ – big – inside me,” you slur, and Joel moans in response.

When he takes your hips in his hands again, you know he’s there. He’s just waiting for you to fall first.

You give in to him, feeling yourself close around his length, throwing your head back in pleasure as your second orgasm washes over you, igniting every inch of your body.

Joel’s groans meet yours as you lean forward again, slowly rolling your hips to coax him through his own orgasm. Watching him release, buried deep inside, he looks so good that you feel like you could cum again just at the sight.

You feel his cock start to go limp inside you and when he opens his eyes, panting, you smile sweetly at him.

“Fuck, darlin’.”

You giggle, hips still driving gently against his. “Good?”

“So good, baby, did so well. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers with a trembling breath, taking your waist in both hands and giving it a tight squeeze. You roll to the side, letting his cock slip out of you, condom full of his seed.

You tumble onto the mattress beside him, both heaving, moaning messes. Your chests rise and fall in sync, fingers tangling and untangling by your sides.

Then Joel gets up, and wanders over to the bathroom, where you watch him through the open door as he pulls the filled rubber from his soft dick. He bins it, then runs a facecloth under the faucet, dabbing it across his own forehead as he makes his way back over to you.

You can’t hide your grin as you watch his naked form approach; tan lines where his t-shirt must end, dark hair decorating his arms, legs, chest, the base of his cock. He sits at the edge of the bed, arm outstretched with the flannel in hand.

You go to take it from him, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. Just pats it over your face gently, soft gaze on yours, your fingers intertwined around his wrist. Your eyes fall closed, the cold cloth a relief against your warm, sweaty skin.

“Feel nice?” he whispers.

You nod in response. Your chest swells at how soft he’s being, how tender. When he stands to throw the flannel back into the sink, you almost find yourself reaching out to hold him down.

He climbs over you, springing back down onto the mattress with a heaving sigh.

You prop yourself up and shimmy over, positioning yourself on top of Joel, chest-to-chest. He looks down and smirks, running a lazy hand across your cheek.

“You’re so good to me,” he mumbles.

You tilt your head with a smile and lay down on his chest. You can hear his heartrate slowly calming down. His fingers twist through your messy hair.

“I have no idea what you’re laced with,” he says, “but you got me.”

You smile. “Yeah?”

Joel nods. You shift positions, adjusting your aching hips safely between his thighs. “You hurtin’?” he asks.

You nod. “Mhm. But I like it. It’s you.”

Joel’s hands run through your hair and his fingertips trace your shoulders. His touch is so light it almost tickles. You turn your jaw and kiss the back of his hand.

“My dad gone, Sarah out, free house…” you mutter.

“Hm.”

“So, you invite your mistress over.” You lift your head, smirking at him.

Joel’s chest vibrates with laughter. “You ain’t my mistress.”

“Oh really? What am I, then?”

“I am not having this conversation at 4AM, kid. Ask me again tomorrow.”

You’d think of something to throw back at him, messing with him, but your entire body aches, and your heavy eyes are starting to fold closed with how sleepy you suddenly feel.

You pull Joel’s sheets over yourself, turning your back to him. Joel instantly follows suit, pulling up right behind you, your back tight to his chest, his thighs cupping the back of yours, then slipping one between your legs.

His arms lock around your torso under the sheets. Safe. Secure. Nothing can happen to you as long as he’s got you.

“Ten,” his voice mumbles against the back of your head.

You turn so your ear is pressed against his lips. “Huh?”

“Ten. That’s my number. Includin’ you.”

Oh.

He doesn’t ask to hear yours. You wouldn’t mind if he did, but he doesn’t. You don’t think he’s telling you to hear yours in exchange. He’s telling you because you asked. He’s telling you because, whether in attempt to turn him on or simply to know something about him that you didn’t before – something nobody else knows – it mattered to you.

He’s telling you because you matter to him.

You nuzzle back into him a little, a form of reply, and, as you start to fall asleep, you feel him place a gentle kiss to your ear.

----------

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madame-fear · 10 months ago

Text

*ೃ༄ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 .ೃ࿐

★ amira speaks!: this was requested by my most beloved @juliavilu1, I hope you enjoy this dear and it was what you expected! I found it super fun to write. Thank you for the idea! 💕 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : being the daughter of Lord Bartimos Celtigar, a close ally to Rhaenyra Targaryen, you have grown up next to Lucerys Velaryon; your childhood best friend... And crush. By the time you receive the news of his betrothal to Lady Rhaena, you distance yourself for years, not even being able to attend her funeral after dying during childbirth. But when Lucerys finds you once again in King’s Landing, attending a feast his mother as Queen had invited you to, he decides that he won’t easily let go of you. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 21.3k (this is the longest I have ever written 😳)

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : Friends to lovers, angst to smut ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Lord!Lucerys x Celtigar!Reader

WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; jealousy, slight angst, Rhaena dies during childbirth, slight mentions of blood, neck kissing, praising, reader’s first time, body worshipping, P in V, seated missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, and overall soft smut.

“Do you think we will be able to avoid war, Luke?” you inquired sheepishly, craning your head to stare at him.

The soft sound of the seawaves clashing against the beachshore was the only thing heard amidst the night as well as the faint noise of the cool windy breeze, bringing a soothing comfort. Both Lucerys and you laid on your backs against the sand, quietly admiring the bright stars in the darkness of the night as you spoke to one another. Arrax peacefully slept by your side; his pearly scales glistening under the moonlight.

It wasn’t unusual for you to surreptitiously sneak away from your chambers late at night with your childhood best friend Lucerys Velaryon whenever your family visited his own at Dragonstone, only for him to take you towards Arrax, fly on dragonback around the Dragonstone castle, and lay down on the beach before having to return to your private quarters. Ever since you grew up a bit, that was a common routine for the two of you to follow.

The war was imminent — inevitable. No one wished to provoke it, much less his mother Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, but everyone knew it was there, and the time to prepare for war would eventually come. You dreaded the mere thought of it, but you always sought and found comfort by simply being by Lucerys’ side.

The realm was coldly divided, and his mother Rhaenyra would have to fight hard for what was her birthright. Such times were complicated to deal with, and you knew you would have to be greatly prepared for what was yet to come... But knowing you had a great loving friend to rely on, was all that soothed you.

Or at least, you wished to think of him merely as a great best friend. It was quite obvious what you genuinely felt for him, despite you wouldn’t even admit it for yourself — yet, you were endlessly teased by his and your own family. You — in a flustered manner — always disregarded such teasing remarks when they mentioned how head over heels you seemed for him, but deep down inside, you knew there was some truth to it.

At your question, his head tilted towards your side to stare at you. A soft huff escaped from him, feeling uncertain on what to answer. “Well,” he began, frowning slightly. “I’m not quite sure, my dear.” his nicknames to you had always been endearing, and they never failed to make you timidly grin. “We can only hope so. But I’m afraid, war is always inevitable.”

A frowny smile appeared on your lips. While you wished to believe war could be easily avoided, part of you knew Lucerys was right — war is always inevitable. You knew you had to prepare yourself for the worst, and in like every war, your Houses would have to get good allies. And with alliances, came betrothals — and knowing how most betrothals were — unwanted, unhappy, or both — you dreaded the mere thought of having your parents choose a Husband for you. If you could, you would choose to get betrothed to Lucerys; but you knew that situation was solely hopeless daydreaming.

The young Velaryon Prince knew about your discomfort regarding betrothals, and he always made sure to comfort and soothe your mind out of such thoughts. Though, Lucerys daydreamed as well about having the chance of choosing you as his wife some day. You were the only girl he had ever laid his eyes upon, and desired to have — and he knew he would be able to give you all the love and care you deserved to have in the world.

Unfortunately, as expected, Luke got betrothed to his cousin Rhaena. It wasn’t bad, since he got along her, but she clearly wasn’t you — the one Lucerys only longed to have.

A few moments of silence loomed over you, being only able to hear the way the tides clashed against the beach shore, occasionally hitting against some small shells or rocks. “I don’t want to get betrothed just now, Luke.” you muttered quietly, fixing your gaze on the sky, which despite being dark, the stars scattered across it and the moon brought some calming lights. Lucerys stared at you with his hazel green eyes in a dreamily manner as you spoke. “I wish I had the full liberty of choosing whomever I want to marry, instead of praying in hopes of receiving a sweet, kind husband.” you continued, “If we all had such liberty to choose the person we truly love, everything would be less complicated.”

And he couldn’t agree any more with what you said. But his betrothal was already settled, as much as it pained him. “I know. It would be less dreadful, and it would feel less… Forced.” a soft sigh escaped from his lips, frowning briefly. “And I wish I could break off my own betrothal, but I have no word against it.” there was certain reluctance coming from him in telling you, but sooner or later, you would have to know about it — and he would much rather tell you about his betrothal himself. Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you didn’t waste a single second in turning your head around to stare at him, believing you misheard him. What did he mean with… ‘Break off his own betrothal’?

Propping your body with your elbows in the sand, your staring remained on him. “What? What do you mean?” doing the same thing as you did, he slightly laid on the sand, but used his elbows to prop himself. His rosy lips partly opened as he was about to begin explaining, but you kept talking. “Luke, are you…” the words trailed off for a moment, lingering on your lips before you could say them. It felt bitterly venomous to even acknowledge Lucerys had already been betrothed. It couldn’t be, you wished to deny it. “You are betrothed, already? To whom?”

As you awaited for his response, you could feel your heart loudly thumping against your chest, to the point it was as if it nearly escaped from your chest. Swiftly, his tongue passed over his lower lip, huffing faintly. You didn’t seem very pleased at the news, and neither was he; but it was eventually expected. “I have been betrothed to my cousin Rhaena.” he began. A soft scoff escaped helplessly from you, clenching your jaw discreetly. “I got betrothed to her the day we went to King’s Landing for the first time after years.”

A knot had been formed quite tightly on your throat as you attentively listened to his words. Your chest rose and fell continuously as you managed to hold yourself back from allowing the tears threatening to spill to expose how you felt — seemingly making your emotions worsen with the dreadful passing of the seconds. Your heart dropped abruptly, and it was a burning pain mixed with jealousy. You knew this day would come, and every passing day it was overwhelming to even be reminded of him getting betrothed, and you as well.

“I see.” you managed to mutter, swallowing all your own emotions that seemed to wash over you violently. You didn’t even know how to answer, you felt perplexed at the sudden situation. “Well, it was expected for both of us to eventually betrothe someone. At least, she will be lucky to have you as a husband.” gods, each word that came from your lips was one more painful than the other. Saying them felt like poison, completely bitter.

A frowny smile appeared on his lips, as he gently took your hand in his, squeezing it ligthly and caressing your skin with the tip of his thumb. In a sense, he tried to soothe you by giving you some physical affection like he always did, but it felt more painful than comforting. “I hope you find happiness and are very much loved with her, Lucerys. Because you deserve it, and you deserve to be appreciated every day of your life.”

It seemed as if you nearly spew out those words dreadfully, and you were; but as well, you genuinely wished for him to be filled with an immense amount of love... The same immense amount of love you could give him every single day, until your last breath. Love killed you, thorned you apart brutally — but there were duties to follow. And you couldn’t easily object against them.

Lucerys had known you ever since he had memory, and probably, he knew you better than you could possibly know yourself. The prince noticed the struggle in your features, and the faint voice tone that managed to not break in between words. You felt upset, and it blended along notorious sadness simultaneously. Softly, he exhaled, and leaned closer to you, close enough for you to feel his sweet boyish scent, while he continued to tenderly squeeze your hand in his own.

“I wish the same for you, (y/n). And even a thousand more things, more than you could imagine.” closing your eyes slowly, Lucerys pressed his lips against your skin, smooching your cheek. Gods, if only you could feel his lips against his own, and savour him. “I have never met someone like you. I hope you get betrothed to someone who knows how to cherish and pamper you properly.” he was wishing you nothing more but mere well-being in every sense, as were you with him — why did it have to profoundly hurt the way it did? A shaky sigh escaped from your lips, opening your eyes slowly as he pulled back from the smooch in your cheek.

The look you carried in your eyes made his heart sink. In a way, instead of noticing how you had to hold back the way you truly felt, he preferred for you to talk to him about it, but Lucerys knew that wouldn’t possibly happen. “Thank you, Luke.” was all you replied, a bit shortly. Softly, you stood from the ground, progressively letting go of his hand. And even so, his warmth ghastly lingered on your delicate skin.

His hand returned to lay on the ground, feeling the small grains of sand under his fingertips, watching you stand up with his green eyes. “I think it’s time for me to return back to my chambers, Luke. I do not wish to rest late, or get scolded by our parents.” giving you a single nod, he rapidly stood up along you, briefly shaking off some sand from his clothing. “I understand, and agree. Let’s go, before anyone finds we aren’t in our chambers.” a small, sheepish grin tugged lightly at the corner of his lips, notoriously trying to lift off the tension felt looming in the atmosphere.

You hesitantly returned the grin Lucerys offered for a few seconds, and followed him towards Arrax to fly back closer to the rocky castle — the pearly coloured dragon seemingly feeling the emotions of his rider, and awakening from its sleep. Swiftly, you climbed into the dragon’s back, right behind of Luke, and wrapped your arms tightly around his body as he commanded orders to his dragon in what you understood as High Valyrian. While you clung to his body, your cheek rested firmly against his back. And while you wished to enjoy the last dragon ride before having to return to your chambers and have a deep rest, your mind couldn’t help but keep wandering off to his future marriage to Lady Rhaena.

The warmth emanating from his body was bitterly endearing, having the need to keep clinging to him as if your life depended on it. But you knew, the more you grew up, that you would eventually have to learn to live with the friendship you maintained, and perhaps, keep certain distance to respect the each other’s betrotheds to yourselves. And despite acknowledging that, you weren’t willing to suffer from a heartbreak, or longing for his soothing touch.

Years had passed since you had been told of Lucerys’ betrothal by none other than himself, got married, and was officially named as the Lord of Driftmark.

Throughout all those passing years, you had kept in touch with him. Raven letters were often sent by him, and you replied back. But ever since Luke got betrothed and married his cousin, you had decided on keeping your distance with him as much as it hurt you; and even if you still wrote letters to one another, your feedback was short and slightly cold at times. Your visits to Dragonstone were delayed, and most of the times if your father had to have a meeting with the Black Council, you now rarely travelled along him.

Lucerys noticed your cold distance immediatly. From the moment he observed your reaction to the news of his betrothal to Rhaena, he knew you had done your very best to put on a straight face without your voice breaking, or tears spilling from your watery eyes. Your abscense was more hurtful than anything else. All he had to cling to, was the shared memories of your sweet laughter, whispered gossiping to one another, and how you never failed in comforting one another no matter the inconvenience.

Of course, he had the replies y he received from your letters; but they didn’t seem as light and sweet as they used to be, they seemed gloomier, and distantly cold. Lucerys adored you, even more than he could possibly adore his wife — as bad as it may sound — and himself, and if he had the possibility of changing his betrothal, Luke would have immediately broken it off just to marry you.

Recently, you had been informed by your father that Lucerys’ wife and Lady of Driftmark, Rhaena, along her newborn babe, had passed away during a difficult childbirth. Not only she had lost too much blood trying to give birth to the child, but as well the babe had taken too much time until it finally came out; and it was too late for both of them, immediatly passing away together.

Guilt burdened on you upon hearing the news. Especially, when you reminded yourself about the negative thoughts and bitterness you naturally had about her — yet, you couldn’t never have wished for such tragic event to happen. And the burden weighened even stronger when a traditional Velaryon funeral was held for her, and instead of assisting to it and visiting Lucerys to check on him, all you managed to do was solely write a letter to him offering your deepest, genuine condolences.

You had to admit to yourself, you felt wrongly awful for not having enough strenght of seeing him once again in person, but you were afraid of it being too awkward, or making him feel worse about the situation somehow. You didn’t want to further avoid him, however, you did, despite not wanting to admit it to yourself.

Until, destiny seemed to push you towards him, without you consciously realising. An invitation had arrived to you, from none other than Rhaenyra Targaryen, whom had managed to become the rightful Queen after winning the war against the Greens, and she was throwing a feast in King’s Landing. Much like you had done with Lucerys when his wife and babe died during childbirth, you had merely sent Rhaenyra a raven letter congratulating her for winning what was her birthright — for being the True Queen.

It had been years since you last saw her personally as well. Ever since you were a child, she had treated you as if you were her own sweet daughter, and she was like your best girl friend during your childhood, and teen years. After such victory and at the invitation to her feast, you never doubted in accepting in a heartbeat. And shortly after accepting to attend the feast, you prepared yourself to travel to King’s Landing.

A mix between eagerness and nervousness lingered on you during your travelling to King’s Landing. Of course, it was all because of the mere excitement you had after not seeing her and her family for many years, and you felt keen in properly congratulating her personally, and chatting together. Perhaps even to meet other allies of hers.

As soon as you arrived to the feast in King’s Landing, the atmosphere felt far more calming than you remembered. The environment was beautifully decorated, just properly for the feast. Soft, lovely music played in the background the moment you got into the feast, meeting other Lords and Ladies in there, and of course, you had the chance of seeing Rhaenyra once again after such a long time, greeting her cheerfully and even getting to chat a bit with her to catch up on how your lives had been.

As the time passed by, you decided to go chat with some other Lords and Ladies. And to have some fun with yourself, you kindly accepted the hand of a Lord that had offered himself to dance with you, amongst other people dancing. You had long forgotten about you own worries, giggles continuously spurred from your lips as you danced with another Lord, talking together about things that didn’t matter much. Gracefully, your dress spun along your gentle movements, and the jewellery you wore jiggled.

From afar, the young Lord of Driftmark, Lucerys, stared at you with both his arms behind his back. His green eyes carefully observed your every delicate movement, helplessly feeling a tinge of jealousy overwhelm him slowly and dreadfully at the sight of you laughing along the other Lord. Gods, you seemed even more precious than he remembered. More mature, and with such beauteous features that made his eyes remain fixed on you. It surely couldn’t be a coincidence, for you to be there, Lucerys had to approach you, and chat with you after many years of exchanging brief raven letters.

With gentle footsteps, Lucerys walked towards you. Your laughter was as endearingly sweet as the last time he had heard it during your shared youth, nearly intoxicating. Carrying a gentle grin, he cleared his throat as he stood next to you, and the other Lord. Both of you turned your heads around to stare at the person clearing his throat, and when you spotted Luke, your breath stopped for a moment. Your eyes went slightly wide, noticing with surprise how tall Lucerys had grown in comparison to when you were younger, nearly towering you, and how matured he looked. Your breath hitched as you fought back a timid grin, feeling your heartbeat thump rapidly against your chest. The way he stared at you with his green eyes… Seven Hells, you could melt right there in the spot.

“My Lord, my Lady Celtigar.” Lucerys greeted, and you gave him a single bow down with your head. As his gaze moved from staring at the Lord briefly, he then stared at you; his eyes lingering on your features for a few long seconds. “I hope you don’t mind, if I steal the Lady Celtigar’s hand from you?” a faint rosy hue crept on your cheeks, as the other Lord immediatly agreed with a smile, giving Luke a final bow with his head before bidding goodbye, and leaving the two of you alone — which, that’s just how Lucerys wanted to have you. All alone for himself.

As Lucerys offered his hand to you, you took it right there, walking with gentle footsteps as to dance together, just like you were doing with the previous Lord. “My Lord Velaryon,” you greeted playfully with a shy grin. “I’m pleased to see you once again.” the atmosphere was far from tense, as you would’ve imagined. You did feel slightly timid around him, but merely because he looked intimidatingly precious, and fully matured like a proper Lord — far from the shy, insecure young Prince he used to be.

Placing your other hand on his arm, you gently danced around together amidst other dancing Lords and Ladies, continuing to hear the gentle music in the background. “I could say the same, my Lady. You’ve grown to be even more beautiful than you already were.” immediatly, you scoffed at him, trying to dart your stare elsewhere as to hide the notorious blush growing across your cheeks. “Oh, shut up, Lucerys. If you think that about me, what is there left for me to say about you?” But Lucerys noticed your fluster right away, and along your teasing retort, it all served to fulfill his pride.

As he gentle held you, spinning around together softly while dancing, silence briefly loomed between the two of you. It wasn’t a bad silence, but the more the seconds kept passing, the more it left place for your own thoughts to occupy your mind. And the burdening guilt had returned to you. The guilt of knowing his wife and babe had died during childbirth, and not having been there for Luke when he surely needed it the most. Your tongue swiftly passed over your lower lip, faintly clearing your throat.

“I-I’m terribly sorry for what happened to Lady Rhaena and the babe, Luke.” you muttered shyly. The young Lord looked down at you, attentively listening. “I also apologise for not having been there for you. I should have.” gently, his thumb passed over the hand that held his own, smiling down at you. “Don’t apologise. You really don’t have to, I understand.” some relief washed over you at his words. “I did receive the letter you sent me, and that was enough for me. I don’t want you to apologise for anything.”

Helplessly, your grin widened at hearing how Lucerys softly comforted you. The warmth of his thumb running across the skin of your hand felt just like the last time he had touched you like that. It felt as if your skin screamed to be touched by him again. “Thank you, Luke. I really did miss you. I hope you know I never stopped thinking you, not even for a single day.”

His eyes twinkled gently. While it was fun to tease you on the inside because whatever thing he said it made you become immediatly flustered, it was now your turn to feel a sense of pride washing over you at the sight of his pale cheek turning a dark shade of red. Lucerys had greatly missed you, and your absence was notoriously felt by him. How could he not miss you, his dear friend... And the woman he so dearly adored more than anything?

“I have missed you terribly as well, vēzos qēlossās ñuho, more than you could possibly imagine.” my sun and stars, as he often fancied nicknaming you. Another trait you had missed from Lucerys, was all the nicknames he had only for you, and no one else. Luke knew just how much you loved High Valyrian, and how you appreciated hearing him talk in it, and he wasted no time in teaching you, and talking to you in Valyrian.

“I have needed you by my side more than anything else in my life. And now, the Seven have brought us back together.”

One thing the young Lord had for sure, is that now that you had returned right back into his arms after yeaes of not seeing each other, he wasn’t willing to let you escape so easily from him. You weren’t going anywhere.

Hours had passed since you arrived in King’s Landing and joined the feast. The nerves you had through your travelled had long washed away from you, now feeling a state of tiredness from all the dancing, laughing, and hyperactivity — and also, you still felt the keen emotion remaining on your veins of seeing Lucerys again, and having great fun with the boy you had always held deep into your heart, unlike no other.

An exhausted, yet gentle huff spurred from your lips as you reached the dimly lit chambers to spend the night in, and get some proper rest before parting back to where you belonged. The wooden door slightly creaked, shutting it closed behind of you the moment you entered. And as soon as you were in, your fingers immediatly moved in a lazily hurried manner to untie the laces from your dress.

You already had enough fun for the day, and you couldn’t await any longer to surrender yourself into a deep slumber. Beginning to open your dress slightly to free yourself from your clothing and change into a nightgown, your eyes were half lidded with tiredness. And before you could manage to fully undress, a hushed knock outside your door was heard. Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you turned around.

“Come in.” you chirped gently, curious at who knocked on your door late in the evening. The door was swiftly opened, creaking once again, only to reveal Lucerys. It was hard for you to fight back a smile at the mere sight of him. As soon as his hand closed the door discreetly behind of him, you could feel his eyes curiously lingering on your body, admiring it as your dress was loose. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Trying hard to fight the blushing in your face, noticing the way he took in your figure for his own delight, you shook your head. “N-No, of course you aren’t. I was just preparing myself to sleep.” you explained, “I supposed you were already in bed?” in response, Lucerys simply shrugged. “Yes. But I couldn’t really sleep.” he replied shortly. His arms were both hidden behinds his back, gently approaching you with quiet footsteps.

Your eyebrows kept furrowed, awaiting for him to keep going. Some moments of awkward silence remained on the atmosphere, noticing how Lucerys seemed to struggle whatever he had to tell you. His hazel eyes remained on the ground, before raising his sight and staring at you. “I can’t sleep, knowing you’re finally here with me, after all these years.” he managed to whisper out. It seemed slightly shy, but at the same time, you knew his words were genuine.

“When I say I missed you, I truly mean it. I wish I could have seen you more often, like we used to do in our youth.” nibbling discreetly on your lower lip, you stood stiff in front of him, playing with the hem of your sleeves. “I never cared about whoever I married. That was supposed to be part of my duty as a future Lord—” abruptly, Luke paused for some seconds, before continuing. “—But the only person whom I genuinely adored ever since I have memory, and never stopped thinking about, was you.”

Lucerys stood right in front of you, shadowing you slightly with his height. Your sight was raised to stare at him in disbelief, feeling heat rise your cheeks. Nervously, Luke placed his hand on your cheek, beginning to caress your skin with the tip od his thumb. “You have no idea how I have longed for you; how not seeing you as often as we did when we were younger made me need you more than anything.” his thumb slowly moved towards your lower lip, brushing it. Your lips partly opened, losing yourself on the way he gazed down at you.

“I can’t hold back the fact that I love you. I’m in love with you, and I would anything to prove it to you, and have you by my side for the rest of my life.” for him, in a way, it was a relief to get those words off of his chest. Lucerys was undoubtedly devoted to you, and he never laid his eyes upon anyone else, but you. Unconsciously, you allowed the weight of your head to fall against the palm of his hand, melting at the feeling of his thumb stroking your cheek sweetly.

Without answering, your eyes were fixed on his own for a few seconds, appreciating the silence that had formed between the two of you. Suddenly, you tiptoed, firmly gripping his clothing to quickly pull him closer to you as he leaned further, and your lips immediatly locked against his own for the first time ever. Kissing him was an urgent need that you desperately craved. After many years of daydreaming about savouring the taste of his lips, you finally had the opportunity to do so, and you took it.

His lips tasted like seasalt, and at the same time, they were endearingly sweet, as well as plump. Initially, your actions took Lucerys by surprise... But much like you, ever since he had fallen head over heels for you, not one day passed without him fantasising about holding you in his arms, tasting your lips, and being more intimate with you. You kissed with such vigor, and so fervently that neither of you were aware of what you were doing, or were even aware of your surroundings anymore, as Lucerys placed one of his hands behind your neck, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss.

You were desperate to feel his body pressing against yours, to feel his warmth seeping into you. You wanted him, and you needed him. Your hands caressed his chest as they moved up and down, playing occasionally with the buttons of his clothing, trying desperately to gain some kind of feeling for his skin. Quietly you gasped as Lucerys abruptly pulled away from your lips, leaving you heavily panting, just like he panted. In disbelief, you stared at him notoriously desperate to keep kissing him, and he softly scoffed.

Sliding one of his hands on your waist, he moved to sit on the edge of your bed, falling down into the mattress with a huff. His hand then patted gently his lap. “Come. Sit on my lap.” he offered, smiling at you invitingly. Happily obliging, you did as he offered, immediatly approaching closer to him just to sit on his lap, weighing on him very softly, and wrapped your arms firmly around your neck. A smug grin appeared on his rosy lips as his hands were on your waist, caressing you with his fingers slowly.

You pressed yourself tightly against him, lowering down your face to press a smooch agaisnt his lips, to which Luke rapidly reciprocated. “You should sit on my lap more often.” he whispered, trailing kisses from your cheeks, lowering himself to your jawline, and approaching your neck. “It makes you look prettier, more than you already are.” his hot breath against your sensitive skin made you shiver softly, gasping as he spoke in a low tone, and kept pressing tender pecks on your neck.

One of his hands that rested on your waist moved slowly downwards, attempting to lift your dress to slip a hand under it, grasping your skin. Throwing your head back to give him further access to your flesh, you hummed quietly as your eyes were closed. His sight was raised to stare at you, as his other free hand played with the laces of your dress. “May I keep kissing and touching you?” you opened your eyes, looking down at him. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, scraping his nails across your skin teasingly as one of his hands was under your dress, touching your leg.

If it were for him, he could take you right there, and pamper and show you just how much he adored you more than anything else in the world. But his mother taught him how to be a proper, respectful gentleman — he preferred to have your full consent before allowing his impulses to act by themselves, especially when it came to treating you.

You returned the way Luke gazed at you, with warmth and love, shyly smiling down at him. Leaning closer to him, lowering your face, you placed a gentle kiss onto his cheek, resting your lips there for several seconds. Luke’s lips curled into an easy smile, feeling your lips against his cheek, and gently craned his head slightly to kiss your lips. “Yes, you may. And you don’t need to ask for my permission, Luke” you agreed, closing your eyes once again, allowing him to continue with exploring every inch of your skin with fervor.

Lucerys leaned forward to place feather light kisses along your collarbone and on your throat, his touch almost feverish as he took you in his arms. He continued to pepper kisses on your neck, moving to your breasts, and your chest began to ache from how hard your heart was beating. You growled silently as one of his hands began untying the laces of your dress, loosening your clothing from your body as his lips focused on placing tender, yet desperate kisses on your breasts.

Writhing slightly on top of him, quiet moans spurred from your lips needily. Your hips began grinding against him, sliding a hand behind the back of his head, interwining your fingers between strands of his brunette messy hair. The sound of your muffled moans were drowned out by the sound of your pounding heartbeat, the sensation so sweet that you couldn’t help but feel the need to do it again and again, until it became unbearable.

Unable to wait any longer, you bit your lip sharply to suppress another moan. Your body tensed as Luke lifted your dress by it’s hem, up to your stomach. “You’re so precious, I could take care of you—” he whispered, interrupting himself briefly, moving his hand to caress your stomach with his fingertips in a slow, dedicated manner, until they travelled downwards to play with the waistband of your underwear. “No, I will take care of you so perfectly — like you deserve to be taken care of.” beneath you, you could feel his growing erection poking against your clothed, moistened genitalia; achingly throbbing in need to feel him.

It felt as if you were dreaming. Such things could occur in your fanaties — and yet, you were. Overall, despite the notorious eager wave of emotions washing over you, you felt rather nervous. It was the first time in your life you would ever have such intimate moment, only having known about what other ladies experienced, but never having the opportunity of doing it yourself. What comforted you, was the thought of Lucerys being there to guide you through, and knowing just how gently delicate ans patient he always was around you.

You swallowed, as you were pressed firmly against his lap, grinding against each other unconciously; the room being filled with your heavy pants. One of his trembling hands moved in a hurried manner to unbuckle his belt, loosening his trousers and rapidly lowering his pants. Attentively staring at his actions, your breath sharpened. You placed your hand on his chest, catching his attention. ��Luke, wait–” you whispered, nervously.

Lucerys’ eyebrows knitted in worry, being afraid he might have pressured you, or even made you feel uncomfortable, as he patiently awaited for you to continue. “P-Please go slowly, and gentle. I-It’s my first time.” you awkwardly admitted, keeping your gaze elsewhere timidly as a blush crept on your skin. A sigh of relief escaped from him, knowing you were merely wishing him to go slow and gentle.

He quietly chuckled, pressing his lips against the corner of your lips, and placing several kisses on that zone as his other hand cupped your cheek tenderly. “Of course, my love. I wasn’t planning on treating you otherwise, either way.” your eyes closed as a smile grew on your own lips, feeling loved and pampered by the young Velaryon Lord. “Please continue, Luke. I need you.” you whispered back, moving your head to meet your lips with his own.

A growl of approval came deep from his throat. The hand that cupped your cheek let go of it slowly, and moved downwards towards his underwear, tugging on the fabric. He removed them quickly, before leaning forward to place light pecks on your lips once more as your own shaking hands removed your panties, sliding them through your legs quickly and tossing them apart.

Once he did lower his underwear, he pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “If you wish me to stop, tell me. I could never try to hurt you in any way, my sweet.” Lucerys spoke softly, almost shyly; and who could blame him? You were as delicate as the petal of a flower. But you didn’t want him to stop, not now.

You gave him a small reassuring nod, encouraging Lucerys to continue. The young Lord smiled to himself, finally pulling out his erection, feeling it’s tip poke against your wet folds, rubbing himself teasingly; which made several groans escape from you. You straddled him, wrapping your legs around his waist. His panting became heavier, ocassionally hitching his breathing as your moist folds grinded against his tip, which leaked precum. Both his hands gripped firmly your waist, trailing kisses all across your neck in between gasps.

Slowly and carefully, moving his hips, and helping your body move down to him, his erected member slipped inside your tight entrance. Initially, the stinging, burning sensation of your inner walls being stretched made you groan; immediatly hiding your face in the crook of Lucerys’ neck, and digging your nails deep into his skin. His arms were wrapped tightly around you, staying still at the sight of your reaction, looking down at you with concern.

“A-Are you alright, love?” Lucerys knew ladies took their time until they adjusted themselves during intercourse. And for you, Luke was willing to be as patient and loving as he could possibly be. With a hitched breathing, clinging yourself to him as he peppered the top of your head with kisses, you nodded weakly. You awaited until you adjusted to his size, feeling your slick increase as it leisurely turned into a pleasant sensation.

“Y-You can continue, please.” you mumbled in a whisper, placing a soft kiss on his shoulder blade. A smile grew on him as one of his hands caressed the back of your head, playing with the strands of your silky hair lovingly — as if Lucerys admired every bit that composed the entirety of yourself. And with a gentle movement, holding firmly your waist with one of his hands, he kept pushing further inside slowly. A high-pitched groan escaped from you, moving down on his cock.

Your soft moans and pants became louder, the more used you became to the feeling. Despite your sweet sounds encouraging him to go further, his movements remained gentle and slow, yet deep. “G-Gods,” he breathed out, as you moved your face, encountering his own, to press a quick sloppy kiss. “Y-You feel so tight, and you take me s-so well, issa jorraelagon—” continous growls escaped deeply from his throat as your pussy tightened around his erection with each penetration. “I-Is it okay if I move faster? I-I promise I will still be gentle,” he inquired in a low tone, moving his green eyes to stare at you, awaiting to know if you felt comfortable and ready enough. You nodded vehemently in approval, nibbling down your lower lip to hold back your pleasured grunts.

Desperately, beginning to progressively move faster — much to your delight, heard in your high-pitched whines —, his lips found their way to your sensitive neck, making you throw your head back to give him more carnal access. “S-Seven Hells, your skin f-feels like I’m kissing soft silk, you’re beautiful.” he praised, using softly his tongue to pass it across the soft spots in your neck, occasionally nibbling on them while he pressed you all the way down against his throbbing cock.

“A-And you taste so sweet. F-Fuck, I adore you.” a soft fleshy sound accompanied the simultaneous pants spurring from your mouths, which then became slightly loud moans despite the urge of holding them back. His hips moved upwards, making his thrusts against your wet cunt become more intense, hitting deeply against your sweet spot. With each pound against that one spot, his name escaped relentlessly from your mouth. “L-Lucerys,” you growled, as his lips continued focusing on your neck, throat, and moving to your collarbone; in each kiss, a cry of pleasure spurred helplessly from him.

“I-I love you. I love you more than y-you could possibly imagine... More than anyone else.” he murmured into your neck, sucking and nipping at the tender skin there with the gentlest touch he could muster. With each word that passed between his lips, a moan left you with each breath, his hips moving even harder as he let himself get lost in your intimate encounter.

This wasn’t like having intimacy with his previous, now deceased wife — that was done for mere duties and responsabilities; to bring heirs to Driftmark, the ones that would sit in the Driftwood throne. This, was an intimate act strictly out of love. It was a moment Luke always longed to have with you, the person whom he truly desired unconditionally, and the one whom he was willing to give his entire heart and soul, and all of the love that he had. “Skorkydoso kostagon ao sagon sīr vok, se gevie? A-Ay jorrāelan–” (how can you be so perfect, and beautiful? I love you.) You owned his heart, and you most certainly belonged with him.

As his pace quickened, you were able to grab onto his shoulders to support yourself without letting go of him, feeling his muscles tense underneath your fingertips as he continued to move into you. He was going fast enough for both of your bodies to come undone with a mix of ecstasy, but at the same time, pure love that was expressed in his gentle — yet intense — thrusts, kisses, and words of praising. Your slick was coated well enough all across his throbbing member, making it easier for him to slip in and out of you with fervid intensity.

A knot formed inside your stomachs the deeper and faster his thrusts were against your moistened cunt, hitting against your overstimulated folds. Your violently legs shook as they were firmly wrapped around his body, while he continued to hit your sweet spot that made you absolutely weak, clinging to him needily the closer you felt to coming. Both your arms were around his neck, slightly digging your nails deep into the skin of his back.

The panting that escaped from both of your lips intensified, becoming loud growls and moans as the knot inside your stomachs tightened, feeling as if it was about to loosen at any moment. His cock became harder inside of you, pulsating; as you couls feel your own slick coming down faster. Eagerly, while one of his hands remained gripping your hip to help you with your own movements, his other hand went to the back of your head, intertwining his fingers in between strands of your hair, pulling you closer to him.

“Avy jorrāelan,” (I love you) Lucerys whispered against your lips, grasping them against his own. “Nyke kostagon mērī jorrāelagon ao.” (I can only love you), he continued, as his lips needily locked with your own, tilting his head slightly as to deepen the kiss, feeling your intensifying hot pants continously hit against your skins. You could feel your orgasm approaching, your core tightening as your stomach twisted in an increasingly uncomfortable way.

A loud groan escaped deep from your throat against his lips as you felt your walls tighten around his pulsating cock, milking him, and your own cum violently coming down as a flush of wetness. His hands firmly gripped both your hips, pressing you all the way down his shaft. A loud groan pleasantly escaped from him, feeling his cum shot several spurs inside of you, provoking in you to feel warmth in your stomach.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, parting is lips aqay from you briefly, resting his forehead lazily against you. A grin curved on the corner of his lips, chuckling breathlessly to himself as both of you tried to calm down from your simultaneous orgasm and release. His fingertips caressed your hips with a shaky movement from the arousal, remaining buried deep inside of you.

Copying his previous actions, you released a panting giggle. “I-I quite liked that, Luke.” you whispered, rubbing the tip of your nose against his own lovingly. Humming contentedly, Lucerys returned the affection. “You have no idea how much I missed you, my Lord Velaryon. And how many times I imagined for this to happen.” a faint rosy pins hue formed on his cheeks, as his chest rose and fell slowly, trying to catch his breathing.

Without thinking it, both his hands cupped your cheeks, and his lips began exploring your face by littering you with delicate kisses — tresting you as if you were made of glass. “My sweet princess,” Lucerys whispered, not fighting back a smile. His index finger fell to your arm, moving it downward to explore your skin, feeling it delicately on his digit, until it reached your hand. “I could say the exact same to you, and many other things. You are so perfect, physically and personally, I would despise it if any other Lord had your attention.”

Immediatly your arms were wrapped against his neck again, giggling as you placed your lips on the tip of his nose. Gods, his heart was melting at how much pure love and desire he felt for you. It could combust from being overwhelmed at his own affection. His green eyes fluttered shut, allowing to be pampered in those little kisses coming from your pretty lips, leaving their warmth on his flesh.

Lucerys let his head tiredly rest on the crook of your neck, inhaling discreetly as to feel your endearing honey scent intoxicate him. How could he have not missed you? And now that you were there with him, having had sexual relationships and shared kisses and feelings, you weren’t going to so easily escape from him now. Merely remembering how you distanced yourself after his betrothal felt like a burning, stinging pain on his heart.

His arms were protectively wrapped around your waist, growling in delight quietly. Lazily, Luke placed a kiss on your shoulder blade, opening his eyes to look up at you staring at him adoringly.

“Nyke jāhor daor ivestragī ao jikagon, issa prūmia. Ao jāhor daor dakogon qrīdrughagon hen issa dombo.”

♡ taglist : ♡

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#lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon x reader smut #lucerys velaryon smut #prince lucerys x reader #luke velaryon x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader smut #house of the dragon x reader smut #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x you

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sodaabaa · 6 months ago

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reunited a court of thorns and roses

rhysand x reader after reader is taken by tamlin, she yearns for the day she can be reunited with her mate.

tw: none

Five months. That’s how long I’d been trapped with Tamlin and his court of thorns. Once upon a time I was happy here, happy with him. Now, it took everything I had to control myself from scratching his eyes out every time he looked at me. Every word he said, every condescending explanation he gave me as to why he thought, why he believed that Rhys had manipulated my mind, drove me insane. Leaving this godforsaken place with Rhys all those months ago was the best decision I’d ever made. Now I was stuck here all over again. Caged in a rose covered prison, suffocated by piles of tulle and chiffon and silk.

I hadn’t shown Tamlin, or anyone, any of the powers I had. I didn’t tell him what I was. Rhys and Amren had figured out that I was an angel. Centuries before the fae emerged, angels ruled the heavens and the Earth. Once the fae were created after years of evolution, the angels died out. But while the physical form of these beings may cease to exist, their souls don’t. Their souls are still here, roaming through the heavens. I guess the angels knew war was imminent in my lifetime so they breathed an angel’s soul into me when I was born and I’d gone all those years unknowing of what I was, what I was capable of. Until I had found out what Amarantha had done to Rhys.

As if one cue, a piece of paper appeared on my nightstand with a coal black pen.

“You’re thinking about me aren’t you” I could hear his arrogant smirk in those words.

I smiled, that bastard always knew, even if we were thousands of miles apart. I picked up the pen to write back but as I was doing so, the door opened and I quickly hid it under my pillow. My smile fell.

“I brought you some paints.” Tamlin paused, unsure of what to say next.

I merely looked out the window and said, “I have no inspiration.”

He frowned, “you’re in the Court of Spring, what more inspiration do you need?”

The swirling night sky. The shimmering golden lights of the City of Starlight. His black, satin wings that carried the midnight sky with him.

Oh, how sweet, your description of my city and my wings flatters me darling.

I had to dig my nails into my palms to keep from smiling like a fool.

Tamlin must have taken great offense to my comment, he left without giving me a chance to respond. Good.

I anxiously pulled out the pen and paper.

“He could have seen the note, be careful next time you prick.”

I set the items on the desk and within seconds it vanished, and reappeared just as fast.

“I miss bickering with you. I miss you.” Such simple words yet my heart ached with longing.

I wrote back, “I miss you too. Just a few more days, I need to convince him to side with us.”

The paper vanished and never returned.

I shifted in the bed I’d been in for hours, refusing to socialize with anyone at the manor. Everyone was blindly loyal to Tamlin and I knew if I left the manor grounds, they’d instantly report to him so I had no reason to even bother faking a smile towards those vipers. I looked out to the night sky, it wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the velvety blue skies of the Night Court but it was still a reminder of who ruled those skies and it comforted me regardless. With that thought, I fell into a deep sleep.

The voices of Tamlin and Lucien could be heard from a mile away. They were arguing over my freedom. I paused on the stairs, my blush pink dress swaying with the movement.

“How long are you going to keep her locked up hm? You can’t keep her here forever.” Lucien spat.

“Until Rhysand isn’t a problem anymore. Until I know he won’t come to take her again.”

I rolled my eyes. Imagine being deluded enough to think you could beat Rhys, the most powerful High Lord in history. I scoffed. Their heads turned in my direction. I covered it by clearing my throat and smiling, resuming my path down the stairs.

“Good morning my love.” I held back a gag.

Tamlin smiled, the fool really thought I was in love with him. “Good morning, we were just finishing up our conversation.” He shot a pointed look at Lucien.

I smiled, lips in a thin line. He wanted to keep me locked up like a prisoner, still.

I took a seat between Tamlin and Lucien. “Can we speak in private please Tamlin.”

He gave me an exhausted look, he knew what I was going to ask. Despite that, he sent Lucien away with a wave of his hand.

“I know what you want to say and you already know my answer.” He said.

I stood up and slammed my hands on the table, rattling the silverware.

“It’s been three months since I saw something outside these walls. Send an escort of guards with me if you want but let me go somewhere, anywhere.” I shouted.

He looked at me through his brows. “You know better than me, I could send an army of guards with you and Rhysand would slice through the brigade like butter to take you away. I won’t risk it.”

He was standing now, trying to intimidate me into compliance.

“And I won’t be kept here like a prisoner! In what world is this love?”

“I’m protecting you!” He growled

“You’re suffocating me!” I yelled.

“Enough. There will be no further conversation about this matter.”

I stilled. And then I felt it. I could sense him before he’d even arrived. I looked past Tamlin and to the doorway.

Rhys.

He was standing tall, his hands in his pockets, ever the nonchalant High Lord. His violet eyes looked over me head to toe, scanning for any signs of injuries.

Tamlin must have noticed I was looking past him and turned. He moved to shield me, beginning to shift into a beast. I didn’t pay any attention to it. Every bone, every nerve, every cell in my body was shouting for me to run to him. So I did.

Tamlin shouted after me and guards ran in but they froze as soon as they ran into the room. It felt as if I’d been running for miles before I crashed into his chest, he stumbled back but his arms wrapped around me and lifted me up. My entire being relaxed into the embrace as I held him tight.

“Miss me?” He breathed into my ear.

Tears welled in my eyes as I nodded into his neck. He let me down just as Tamlin was approaching, rage burning in his eyes.

I stood in front of Rhys as Tamlin began charging. I crossed my arms and Tamlin met with a wall of light. He bounced back but got up instantly. Like twin flames, Rhys and I let out our wings, his midnight black wings contrasting with my soft white.

Tamlin froze, he hadn’t known about my abilities.

“What are you doing? He’s manipulating you, turning you against me.”

I scoffed. “You turned me against you.”

“I love you.” He said in a not so loving tone.

“Rhys loves me. And I him.”

Unexpectedly, he shoved me away and lunged for Rhys who easily dodged his advances.

“You’ve gone soft Tamlin.” Rhys taunted.

Tamlin lunged again, this time he managed to grab Rhys, who was unimpressed.

“I’m going to skin you alive.” He said through his teeth.

Rhys merely rolled his eyes and looked at me as if to say, ‘look at this guy.’

Rhys grabbed Tamlins arms and twisted them, kneeing him in the gut and throwing him onto the floor all in one swift motion.

“You’re gonna have to try a lot harder to even land a punch, dear Tamlin.”

This time, Tamlin didn’t get back up. Rhys was holding him down with his mind.

“We’ll spare your life on one condition.” I spoke to him.

His nose flared, he’d rather die than submit to Rhys.

“You ally yourself and your army with us for the war. Hybern will slaughter your people and take your court as soon as the war is over and you know it. Don’t lead hundreds of innocent lives towards their death because of a grudge you hold towards Rhys.” I continued.

“I’d sooner die than work with him. And you. After all I did for you, traitor.” He spat.

I could feel the anger roll off Rhys. He stepped in front of me but I grabbed his arm.

“After all you did? After Amarantha, I was wasting away. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t breathe. And all you did was lock me up like a caged animal. You couldn’t even look at me longer than a second.” My voice rose.

“Do you know what the first thing Rhys did to me when he took me away on our wedding day?” I didn’t give him the time to respond.

“He looked at me, listened to me, he made me feel alive again. It’s ironic isn’t it? Living in the Spring Court where all bloom to life. Except me. I withered away like a dead rose. But I blossomed with Rhys at the Night Court, the realm of death so many call it, but it breathed life into me again.”

Tamlin stared, blank. “Go to hell.”

With that, I left the Manor and let Rhys have his fun.

We landed in Velaris, my beloved City of Starlight. I was ecstatic and Rhys felt it as we walked up the steps to the town house. Home. The word kept repeating in my head, I still couldn’t believe it.

When we walked in, we were greeted by Cassian, Mor, Azriel, and Amren. They kneeled as we stood in the doorway.

My hand slipped from Rhys’ and I ran towards them, dropping to my knees.

“Please don’t kneel. I just want a hug from each of you.” Tears fell from my eyes. I missed these four with my whole heart. Last I’d seen them, Cassian’s wings had been shattered, Azriel and Mor were bloody and bruised. I was worried sick.

They all hugged me at once, I was squished in between the four of them. I let out a laugh as we withdrew from the group hug and Rhys chuckled behind me.

“You bastards never react that way when I come home.” He walked towards us.

Amren sent daggers at him with her eyes.

“Maybe we don’t like you as much Rhys.” Cassian said.

“Then maybe you can find a place at the Court of Nightmares instead of Velaris, Cas. They’d be happy to take in an invalid such as yourself.” He threw.

Cassian shook his head laughing. “You’d miss me too much.”

The five of them began to bicker, their voices booming throughout the house. My eyes fleeted between them, trying to keep track of who was saying what.

I smiled, It felt like I never left.

#acotar #rhysand #acomaf #feyre archeron #rhysand x reader #acotar fanfiction

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criticallyinneedofadar · 2 months ago

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A Life Lost in Time

A/N: I'm so sorry in advance. This is a sad one. I just can't get over the 'he promised me children' bit.

Pairing: Adar x Reader

Warnings: Main character death, childloss, infertility,

*This could be read in connection to Beyond Hope if you want a happy ending for this couple.

____________________________________________________________

Adar stood alone, cloaked in the deepening twilight, staring into the darkness of the rivers surrounding the elvish city. The winds carried a faint whisper, almost like a distant echo of voices long dead, warning him of what was to come.

Eregion.

It’s fall was imminent, and he would be the one to see it burn- Sauron with it. Yet, even with the grim satisfaction of his enemies broken and his children safe, a heaviness hung in the air that he could not shake. He had fought for so long, carved his paths of pain through the centuries, yet the weight of a memory far more agonizing than any battle weighed on his mind.

Aruvian.

The name stirred within him like a half-remembered song. She had been the last one to use that name for him. Before he had become Adar. Before everything had changed.

The present seemed to slip away as his thoughts drifted to a time when his heart had still known the light.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were sitting by the fire, staring into the flickering flames, pensive and deep in thought. You felt it before you heard his steps. The familiar presence within your fae, that of your husband Aruvian, approaching from behind. He sat beside you, his dark eyes filled with the same sorrow that had haunted you both for centuries.

“I spoke to her again today,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, “The healer.”

Aruvian’s hand gently found yours, his grip firm and warm “And?”

You turn your gaze to him, eyes brimming with tears. “There is nothing to be done meleth nin. She said it would take a miracle for us to bear a child,”

A heavy silence filled the air. You had spent centuries trying to fill that silence- trying and failing to bring the life you both longed for into the world.

You could feel Aruvian’s heart clench as he saw the weariness in your eyes, the shadow that had settled over you like a shadow.

He knelt beside you, taking your hand in his. “We’ll find a way,” he said, though his voice lacked the conviction it once held. He had said those words too many times and both of you knew it.

“We’ve tried everything,” you whispered, shaking your head. “There’s no hope left.”

Aruvian’s jaw tightened, but he forced a small smile. “There is always hope. I’ve heard talk of someone- a great sorcerer. They say he can do what no other can.”

You looked at him, your eyes widening slightly. “A sorcerer? Aruvian you can’t mean-”

“He is different,” he interrupted gently. “They say he can perform miracles. He can give us what we have always yearned for.”

You hesitate, glancing into the fire again. “What would he ask in return? Sorcerers… they never grant anything without asking something in return.”

Aruvian’s hand tightened over yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Let me worry about that. You’ve suffered enough, and I can’t bear to see you in pain any longer. Please, my love, trust me.”

Your gaze softened and after a long moment, you nodded. “I trust you,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his.

The journey had been long, taking you both to the edge of the world, to a place where the stars seemed to dim and the air grew colder with every step. The tower loomed before you like a jagged tooth against the darkened sky. As you stood before it, unease crept into your heart.

Aruvian had been calm, resolute. He had always been your strength. He had always known what to do.

When the sorcerer- Sauron, though at the time he did not reveal his name, appeared his presence was overwhelming. His eyes gleaned with ancient power and his red hair seemed to emit it’s own light. You felt small under his gaze, but Aruvian stood firm.

“My wife and I seek your aid,” he said, his voice steady. “We desire a child. We have tried everything but none have succeeded.”

Sauron’s eyes flickered toward you, lingering for a moment before looking back at Aruvian. “And you are prepared to continue, knowing my price?”

Aruvian hesitated for only a second, though you did not see it- too busy working out what the price could be and how your husband would have already agreed to it. You did not hear the unspoken exchange between the two males- the one in which Aruvian silently offered his servitude, his loyalty, in exchange for the one thing you both desired above all else.

“I know the cost,” he said, his voice low but firm.

Sauron smiled- a cold, cruel smile that made your skin prickle. “Very well. You shall have what you seek.”

The sorcerer’s magic had woven through the air like tendrils of ice touched shadows, creeping into your body and warping you from within. You felt it immediately- the dark energy coiling around your soul, reshaping you, twisting your flesh in ways that felt unnatural and wrong. But Aruvian had held you, whispering words of comfort in your ear, words of love and strength.

And for a time, you believed him.

________________________________

Adar snapped back to the present, his breath catching in his throat as the memory tore through him like a blade. His hands clenched into fists, and he forced himself to look once again toward Eregion. But the pain lingered, gnawing at him like a warg with a bone.

You had trusted him. He had convinced you that it would all be worth it, that the suffering would pass, and soon you would hold your child in your arms. But the sorcerer’s magic had not been a blessing; it had been a curse.

As the months passed, your body had weakened, twisted by the dark power that had been forced into you. You grew frail, sickly, and still, you clung to hope. But Adar had known, even then, that something was terribly wrong. He had seen the price you were paying and yet he said nothing. He had remained silent, too afraid to lose the chance he had bargained for.

When the time came for the child to be born, your body had been too fragile to survive. Your screams of agony echoing through the cold, empty halls. You died there in that tower. Your final breath slipping away as the child- the one you so longed for- took its first and last.

Adar had held your lifeless bodies in his arms, his heart shattered and soul broken. He had traded everything for a child, and in doing so, he had lost the one person who had meant the most to him. The one person who had trusted him, even when she shouldn’t have.

_____________________________

The winds howled around him as Adar stood at the edge of the battlefield, his eyes cold and empty. Eregion would fall, and with it, the last remnants of the world he once knew. His servitude to Sauron had begun with a lie, and now, centuries later, he would finally end it for good.

There were no more promises, no more bargains to be made. Only darkness remained. And Adar would see it through to the very end.

#adar x you #adar x reader #adar #adar rings of power #sad thoughts #adar rop #adar fanfic

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girlactionfigure · 5 months ago

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THURSDAY HERO: Glagolev Family

It is undeniable that the role of Ukraine in the Holocaust was shameful. Almost a million Jews were killed by Ukrainian Nazi collaborators, most of them shot and dumped into mass graves, many while still alive. Because of this ugly history, and at a time when the Ukraine itself is under threat, it is crucial to remember those Ukrainians who did the right thing, even at great risk to themselves.

Alexei Glagolev was a Ukrainian Orthodox priest who practiced his Christian faith despite severe persecution from the Soviet communists. Together with his wife Tatiana and their children, Alexei hid Jews during World War II, a heroic act that almost cost the Glagolevs their own lives.

Born in Kiev in 1901, Alexei was raised in a devout Eastern Orthodox home. His father Alexander was a priest and professor at Kiev Theological Academy and known to be an ally to Jews at a time of rampant antisemitism. Alexei, a stand-out student in high school, enrolled in the Theological Academy in 1919, and studied there until 1923, even after it was shut down by the Bolsheviks and the students had to study in secret. Alexei married Tatiana Bulashevich, the daughter of a sugar plant owner, in 1926. They had three children, Magdalina, Nikolei and Maria.

In 1932 the Glagolevs’ world was rocked when Alexei was arrested by the communists for “anti-revolutionary acts.” He was freed after a week in custody, but was designated a “cult leader” and deprived of civil liberties. With his professional options severely curtailed due to his status as leader of a cult (the Soviets considered all religions to be cults), he labored as a construction worker and security guard. From 1936 to 1940 he studied Physics and Mathematics at the Kiev Pedagogy Institute, while secretly running an underground church. After the war in Eastern Europe began, Alexei was ordained as a priest and served in the Pokrov Church in Kiev.

In October, 1941, Alexei’s sister-in-law asked him to help her brother’s Jewish wife, Izabella Mirkina, who was in imminent danger of being murdered by the Nazis. Without hesitation, Alexei and Tatiana determined to do whatever they could to help persecuted Jews, despite caring for their own three children in difficult wartime conditions. Tatiana gave Izabella her own identity card and baptism certificate. In his memoirs, Father Alexei wrote, “My wife almost paid with her own life for her reckless action. The Gestapo was going from flat to flat asking for papers, and when they found out that Tatiana didn’t have a passport, they were going to arrest her. Very few people returned to their homes after such arrests. We begged and managed to persuade them to leave her alone after a few witnesses confirmed her identity.”

Even with Tatiana’s papers Izabella was unable to escape and returned to the Glagolevs in desperate need of a place to hide. Alexei later said, “Tormented, we searched for a way to save her. What kind of Christians would we be if we refused this poor woman, who was reaching out to us and pleading for help?” The Glagolevs welcomed Izabella and her daughter Irina into their own modest home. When other desperate Jews approached for help, Alexei gave them fake baptism certificates and hid them in his church, even though hiding Jews was a capital crime punishable by execution. The Glagolev children also helped care for the Jews and keep them safe and fed.

In 1943 Alexei moved out of his home and into the hospital at Pokrov Monastery, where he lived beside the Jews he was helping. This was very risky because the Germans had forbidden Ukrainians to live in that part of Kiev. He and his son Nikolei were arrested in fall of that year and deported to Germany, where Alexei was brutally beaten by the Nazis. Somehow they managed to escape and returned to Ukraine after the liberation from Germany in 1944. In 1945, Alexei wrote a letter to Nikita Khrushchev, Secretary of the Ukraine, about the Jews he had saved.

Alexei continued working as a priest in the Pokrov church until it closed in 1960. He worked in several other churches despite increasing ill health caused by his brutal treatment while imprisoned by the Nazis. Alexei died in 1972. Journalist Sergei Kokurin wrote in an article about Alexei, “It is hard to understand to an average man the determination with which Glagolev went against the tide. In 1936 this fragile-looking intellectual publicly carried the cross taken off the Church of Nikola the Kind, and despite threats from the communists kept it in his flat. He was the only priest in Kiev who refused in April 1942 to hold a church service to celebrate Hitler’s birthday.”

Alexei, Tatiana and their children were recognized as Righteous Among the Nations by Israeli Holocaust Museum Yad Vashem in 1991. In January 2002, to commemorate the 100th anniversary of Alexei Glagolev’s birth, a memorial plaque to him and his brave father Alexander was erected on the wall of the National University of Kiev.

For their heroic actions saving Jews, and for practicing their faith in defiance of Soviet persecution, we honor the Glagolev family as this week’s Thursday Heroes.

#Thursday Hero

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publishinggoblin · 1 year ago

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The Return of the Normal Tarot is imminent, my friends.

@normal-horoscopes@cryptotheism's original deck, the Normal Tarot, upended the form of tarot. Seasons in place of suits, a trio of Knights and a Lady, Queen, and Mother in place of courts, not to mention the reimagined Major Arcana.

The first edition with art by @worm-dark had great success, then the second edition featured two new decks, one in gold foil by @charminglyantiquated, and another in silver, updated from the first edition. And all three of the first and second edition decks are going to see reprints in 2024 with the Return of the Normal Tarot...

But we're also going to see an all-new, full color third edition, illustrated by Ezra Kimbell. This brand new take will be the final iteration of this incredible deck, and I'm very excited to announce we'll have a fantastic and attainable price point for all the decks.

If you're excited for this massive return, please, follow the link above or below and follow along for our launch in early-mid 2024!

#the caretaker #normal tarot #normal horoscopes #kickstarter #crowdfunding #backerkit #tarot #tarot decks #tarot reading #oracle #divination #gold foil #silver foil

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dc-marvel-life · 8 months ago

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These Are My Ladies (Natasha Files) - The Moment

Pairing: Natasha x reader

Summary: The first time you realize that the Black Widow is your soulmate

Word Count: ~1.5K

A/N: Now I made These Are My Ladies awhile ago not thinking many people wanted more, but there was some interested. I am going to writing this series. If you have any ideas, let me know or if you have another

These Are My Ladies Natasha Files Wanda Files Carol Files Kate Files Yelena Files

Deadman’s P.O.V

After enduring a whirlwind of missions over the past month, finally, I found myself on a well-deserved break, returning to my New York apartment with hopes of relaxation. However, upon arrival, relaxation was the last thing I felt. Neglect had turned my once orderly space into chaos, with clothes strewn about and dishes piled high.

Though cleaning wasn't a chore I minded, I discovered I had exhausted my cleaning supplies. With a resigned sigh, I added a mental note to my list: a trip to the store was imminent. Before venturing out, a pang of hunger reminded me of my empty fridge.

"Great," I muttered, closing the fridge door empty-handed. Grabbing my keys, I headed out, deciding to make a day of it and treat myself to a visit to my favorite café. Nestled in a quiet corner, it was my sanctuary, known only to a few, offering not just excellent food but also solitude.

As I entered the café and placed my order, my mind drifted to the soothing distraction of a Sudoku puzzle. But my moment of peace was disrupted by a familiar figure outside—the Black Widow.

"Shit," I whispered to myself, snapping my book shut. Whether she had spotted me or not was unclear, but I wasn't about to stick around to find out. The Avengers had never caught me, and I had no intention of allowing today to be the first.

Grabbing my food, I hastily exited the café, disappointed that my plans for relaxation had been thwarted once again. Determined to salvage what remained of my day, I made my way to a nearby park, seeking solace amidst the tranquility of nature.

Finding an empty bench, I settled down, exhaling a sigh of relief. With my food in hand and Sudoku book reopened, I lost myself in the challenge of the puzzles. Time slipped away, and before I knew it, I had devoured my meal and completed several Sudoku grids.

Glancing around the park, I spotted Black Widow in the distance, a coffee cup in hand. "Damn," I muttered, slipping away unnoticed, scanning for any other Avengers lurking nearby. Surprisingly, the coast seemed clear, prompting a sense of unease.

Nevertheless, I pressed on, knowing I had one final task ahead—the grocery store. After gathering my necessities and disposing of my trash, I made my way to the nearest store, pushing a cart as I ticked off items on my mental checklist.

Midway through my shopping, a strange sensation washed over me. Glancing around, my eyes met Black Widow's.

As we look eyes at each other, time seems to stand still, and the whole world around us fades away into a blur of insignificance. At this moment, it was as if the universe conspired this day to happen to bring us together, our souls are bound together to make an unbreakable bond.

At a single glance, there was a flow of an electric current surge between us, igniting a fire that burns deep within my heart and I know that she feels it too. This sensation is unlike any other feeling I ever felt. Just a second ago, she was one of my biggest enemies and now there is an unwavering certainty that she is my other half. There is a sense of belonging and understanding with us and we haven’t even said a word to each other yet.

Many people told me about how it felt to meet your soulmate, but this feeling is nothing how they describe it. It is even better. At this moment, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I just found my soulmate.

After what felt like an eternity, the world comes back into focus and we are back in the grocery store.

“Who put out a hit on me?” Black Widow says and drops her basket. Why would that be the first thing she says? Didn’t she feel the connection too?

“Don’t give me that look,” I guess I was making a funny face so I tried to go back to normal, “I have noticed you since this morning in the cafe. I have been trying to get away from you all day, but you are damn too good at your job” Natasha says and makes a face.

I smirked at her complimenting me on how good I was at my job even though I wasn’t working.

“I know that you know what is happening here” I say getting closer to her and she takes a few steps back, so I stop.

"No, this can't be happening! You can't be my soulmate! I don't deserve a soulmate," she murmured, a hint of vulnerability creeping into her voice.

Her words struck me like a blow to the chest, the weight of her rejection crushing my spirit. Yet, even as my soul ached with the pain of her denial, I couldn't help but feel a sense of empathy. After all, hadn't I too grappled with feelings of unworthiness?

Summoning what remained of my resolve, I sought to reassure her. "I promise you, there's no hit out on you. If there were, you'd already be dead. They call me Deadman for a reason," I quipped, attempting to lighten the mood.

"You wish," she countered with a wry chuckle, the tension between us palpable as we stood in silence, each grappling with our own doubts and insecurities.

"Let me prove you wrong. Let me show you that I am the right soulmate for you, and that you do indeed deserve one," I implored, extending an invitation that hung precariously in the air.

After what felt like an eternity, she relented, her acceptance met with an internal cheer. "Perfect. I'll cook for you. What do you want for dinner?" I inquired eagerly, already envisioning the possibilities.

"I don't know; surprise me," she replied, and with the exchange of numbers, our tentative truce was sealed.

—

With only a few hours until Black Widow's arrival, I threw myself into a frenzy of preparation. Cleaning, cooking, and setting the table consumed my attention, each task executed with meticulous care.

Yet, amid the chaos, I sought to impart a touch of sentimentality, crafting a bouquet of paper roses as a token of my affection. It was a small gesture, perhaps, but one imbued with meaning—a symbol of my earnest desire to forge a connection with her.

As the appointed hour drew near, a knock at the door heralded her arrival. I took a moment to compose myself before opening the door, my breath catching at the sight of her.

"Come in, come in. I'm glad you came," I greeted her warmly, taking her jacket and ushering her into my humble abode.

"Wow, nice place. And it smells amazing in here. What did you make?" she remarked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"I made homemade chicken pasta with red sauce, Caesar salad, and cheesy garlic bread," I replied, hoping to impress her with my culinary skills.

"That sounds delicious," she murmured, a hint of appreciation evident in her tone.

Seating her at the table, I poured us each a glass of wine, savoring the moment as we embarked on this unexpected journey together. With each bite, I watched her closely, silently gauging her reaction to my cooking.

As we sat in silence, the clinking of cutlery against plates the only sound in the room, I couldn't help but observe her every move. With bated breath, I awaited her reaction to the meal I had prepared with such care. And when I saw the subtle flicker of pleasure that crossed her features, I couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at my lips.

Halfway through the meal, our pace slowed, and our gazes locked in a moment of shared understanding. It was then that I felt compelled to break the silence, to address the elephant in the room—the improbable twist of fate that had brought us together as soulmates despite our tumultuous history as adversaries.

"Look, I know this is weird for both of us. After all, we've been enemies for so long," I began, my voice tentative yet determined. "But I want to make this work. I've always dreamed of finding my soulmate, and now that I've found you, I don't want to let this opportunity slip away."

I reached out to take her hand, a gesture of reassurance, only to have it swiftly withdrawn. The sting of rejection pierced my heart, a painful echo of the hurt I had felt earlier in the store.

Undeterred, I rose from my seat, retrieving the bouquet of paper roses I had crafted with such care. "I made these for you," I explained, offering her the delicate blooms. "I know they're not real, but they'll never wither or fade. They'll be a constant reminder of the connection we share, a symbol of the enduring love I have for you."

Taking a moment to steady my nerves, I continued, "I understand that this won't be easy, given our pasts. But I'm willing to put in the work, to prove that we're meant to be together."

As she accepted the flowers, a flicker of emotion crossed her features, and for the first time since our encounter began, I dared to hope that perhaps, against all odds, our love might blossom into something beautiful and enduring.

This is the moment where our relationship starts.

#marvel #marvel comics #marvel mcu #natasha romanoff #black widow #avengers #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romonova #natasha rostova #natasha rothwell #natalia romanova #natalie rushman #mcu

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foreverisntenough · 6 months ago

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‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, self doubt, body image, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 13 - Mama | ‘Ours’

Trent finally returned home and the first game of the season was imminent. He was exhausted and it was late, like very late when he came back. You had long put Teddy to bed but waited up for a cuddle with him. It wasn’t like you had spent months apart but it felt like that. The feeling of being back in his arms felt like paradise. The smell of him fresh out of the shower, the warmth of his skin pressed against yours, the feeling of his soft lips every time they pressed into yours. You could die happily right here. This was pure bliss.

“I just want to spend time alone with you. I miss being your main focus” you cooed tiredly nuzzling impossibly closer into him. You were talking about how your trip to the US was filled with family and friends and of course… your baby. Which was lovely but time alone with him was rare and you missed it.

“You’re always my main focus.” he kissed your nose and you couldn't help but smile even though you knew he was lying. Teddy was both of your main focuses 24/7 which you didn’t mind, in fact you loved it but you’re only human you, of course, missed moments of interrupted alone time sans baby monitor. “That’s not gonna happen here either though, baby. We have our eternal plus one.” You smiled just thinking about Teddy. “As much as I love her, you know what I was thinking?” you nodded for him to continue. “We should start planning the honeymoon.” he spoke softly, rubbing his hand over your thigh you had thrown over his torso.

“Yeah? You’ve thought about that?” you giggled surprised he’d thought about any of the planning at all.

“It’s one of the first things I thought about after I asked. Like the wedding will be amazing. Family, friends, yeah, yeah, yeah. But c’mon baby… after, when we’re married, just me and you on a beach… you in bikinis, my wife.” He puffed out some air from between his lips expressing just how great he thought it could be.

“We should probably plan the actual wedding first, no? Before we skip ahead.” You gave him a cheeky look knowing that you two actually had to start making finite plans if you wanted it to actually get to be his wife in a bikini.

“Yeah, you’ll get going. I know you already know what you want.” He replied cheekily, squeezing your thigh a little.

“No, no, no, this is a team effort.” You waved your finger at him making sure it was clear he was not exempt from the planning process. This was not your wedding, this yours and his* wedding.

“You're the captain of this though. I’m only merely a vice captain. Google it.” He teased creating a half assed defense for himself. You rolled your eyes, not amused and definitely not letting him get out of this.

“Fine. Team talk; me and you tomorrow morning… with the boss.” You instructed him. He looked at you confused for a moment. Tilting his head looking down at you not fully understanding the reference you were making. “The boss.” you repeated picking your head up to look at him with a ‘why do you not understand what I am saying’ type look.

“Ah…Teddy.” He laughed. You put your head back down and smacked your hand against his chest gently.

“Yes, Teddy, your daughter. The one who runs this entire house. The boss.” You emphasized, giving him a hard time about how he didn’t pick up on your bad joke initially. You both were tired.

“Aw, she is like a little boss.” He cooed thinking it actually was really cute Teddy ran the show. She wasn’t spoiled you’d say. Maybe she was by the Alexander-Arnold boys but it was more the fact that she couldn’t do anything for herself so she was in charge. It could also be her chubby cheeks, puppy dog eyes, and little pink pout but that’s besides the point.

“Goodnight, baby.” You extended your neck up to reach for him and kissed his lips before settling in to get to sleep.

“Goodnight, skipper” He joked so you playfully slapped at his chest again. “I love you so much.” he kissed your head and you dozed off in your favorite place in the whole entire world.

“Mmmm that feels so good, baby.” You woke up feeling Trents lips on your back. He pushed your silk camisole up beyond your shoulder blades. He placed kisses slow and methodically down your spine. You laid on your stomach with your face to the side pressed into your pillow.

“Morning, beautiful.” He muttered in between kisses. He was moving slow and it was actually kind of tortuous until his fingers dragged down the outside of your thigh. You hummed as he dragged them over the back, sending chills through your body. Before you knew it he was drawing slow circles against your covered clit. Your back arched and you turned your face into the pillow to stop yourself moaning from something so small. You could hear him puff out a short laugh amused with himself and his ability. He knew your body probably better than you did. He definitely liked it more. He reveled in how responsive you were to his touch. His long finger slipped under the hem of your thong pulling your panties to the side to toy with you. “This wet just f’me, pretty girl?” He asked you simultaneously working his fingers. You let out a moan he could hear clearly now. “That a yes? Gotta tell me.” He spoked slipping two fingers inside of you easily.

“Jesus, oh my god, yes. Just for you baby.” You were caught off guard by this morning affair. You had no control right now. Barely awake and face first into the bed. He pulled his fingers out of you suddenly when you thought you might be getting closer to reaching your high. He dragged a trail of your arousal down the inside of your thigh. Trent loved to find himself in between your thighs, lapping his tongue through your folds. He wanted to take care of you, your pleasure was a top priority. It was like a game to him, something he needed to win and conquer. Hearing and feeling you falling apart on his tongue was the best trophy he could ever win. He pulled your hips off the bed and you gasped. “T…” you threatened him with zero backbone. You knew what he was doing. He loved this.

“Shhh, baby. I got you. Just arch your back f’me.” He instructed you and you did but not because he told you but because he licked you completely front to back. “Good girl.” He praised you. He moved to suck at your sensitive throbbing clit before he dragged his tongue back through your folds over your entrance towards your ass.

“Don’t…” You threatened with some real sincerity this time. He laughed and the vibrations made you quiver. You’d gone there. You’d let him too many times you’d even like to admit to Lauren but 7 am in the morning was not the time for that. He listened to you, thank god. He pushed his tongue against you again. His nose bumped against you everytime he moved his jaw. You were shaking. This is not how you thought your morning was going to go.

“Mmmm, so fucking good.” He lewdly slurped the slick from your pussy. You should scold him. You should think he's being overzealous but… you don’t. You moaned. He could feel his dick getting almost painfully hard but that wasn’t his plan of action right now. He’d have to wait. He wanted to get you to a place he loved and you were halfway there moaning for him. He brought his fingers back up and thrusted them inside of you. You whined and pushed back against him. You reached out behind you and grabbed for him. You wiggled your ass back desperate for more. He groaned. This is what he wanted, for you to want this.

“Oh my god, T… please. Please.” You were practically crying for more. You came unannounced and uncontrolled on his tongue. He loved seeing your back arching in pleasure because of him. The way your thighs trembled attempting to hold yourself up. Your face pressed into the pillow but not innocent enough to not try and twist around to be able to see him and admire him. Your slick covering his pink perfect pout.

“My pretty girl. Perfect fucking pussy f’me.” he spoke pulling away for a moment still letting his fingers work nimbly inside you stroking the spot he loved to reach. The squelch of your wet pussy was embarrassing but it felt too good to care. His free hand massaged the fat of your ass. This didn’t merit any embarrassment but you still couldn’t believe he gets you like this. Your legs were actively shaking.

“I’m gonna cum, T… fuck. You’re gonna make me cum again.” you whined his name quivering as your juices dripped down his hand. He slaps your ass and the sting shocked you back into reality for a moment. He smugly laughed and placed his lips to your clit again. A shudder ran down your spine. Your pussy couldn’t handle this. You clenched around his fingers. He moaned against you at the tightness. He continued swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit. You repeated his name like a prayer as a second orgasm tore through you. He continued his movements like he wanted a third. You whined way too overstimulated for that. You attempted to move away from him and slap your arm at him but just crashed onto the mattress unable to achieve any of that. He decided to let you come down from your high instead, kissing your ass cheek. He removed his fingers slowly from you but just moved his soaked digits up to rub your clit in soft circles.

“So fucking beautiful like this.” He cooed. You let out one final whine before he totally took his hand away from you. He kissed the small of your back, his big hands moving to massage your hips.

“Oh my g…” you tried to talk but were cut off with a harsh slap to your ass.

“Let’s go.” He quipped with a laugh as if he didn’t just devour you. You blinked your eyes a few times attempting to come back to the room. You propped yourself onto your forearms. Your heart was still racing but you at least had most of your senses back. You hear Teddy through the monitor. “Do you want me to get her?” He cheekily asked and you just rolled your eyes at him dropping back into the bed with a sigh.

He brought Teddy back into your bedroom. You had to get ready for the day and after your morning you needed to shower. You were going down to London with your mum. Trent didn’t have training till later in the day so he let you get started and walked around the room with Teddy playing games with her bouncing her up and down. That was until he walked past the dresser and clocked a business card tucked under a notebook of yours.

“Who’s Bentley Brown?” Trent called to you from outside the ensuite with Teddy in one arm picking up the business card in the other. You’d forgotten you even got it and had thrown it in with your planner.

“Some man I met.” You responded without thinking. You were in the middle of doing your makeup. It wasn’t really the time you wanted to get into the whole in depth conversation you had with him. You were focused on getting your brows to look just right.

“What?” Trent asked you very blunt and short. You picked up on his offense to your vagueness but he didn't know you were talking about a 65 year old man at the airport helping you with your bags and not a handsome 26 year old lad you’d met outside a pub.

“He was cute, as well.” You pretended to gush about this anonymous man you’d met. You decided it’d be a little funny to tease considering Trent was the only reason the man spoke to you more. Trent’s brow furrowed confused why you were so open about talking with another guy. “Google him” you cooed, setting him up. He picked up his phone immediately and typed away.

“Oh… very funny.” He rolled his eyes, annoyed he fell for your silly joke. “Mummy is so funny, Ted, huh?” he shook his head at her before placing a kiss on her forehead. “I know this geezer” he yelled out to you.

“Yeah, I know.” You giggled. “That’s the only reason I spoke with him.” you explained. Trent came into the bathroom and put Teddy on the bathroom counter in front of you. She sat kicking her legs as you squeezed at her chubby tummy.

“Gonna miss you, beautiful” he kissed your cheek, hugging you from behind. You turned your head to give him a kiss on his lips in return.

“It’s only for the day.” You whispered, ghosting your lips over his centimeters apart before turning your head back to continue your makeup and Teddy.

“I know but me alone with the boss” He watched you carefully apply a lip liner with one hand. He flicked his gaze to see Teddy smiling at you also mesmerized by your precision.

“And your mum… “ You cut him off with a giggle, stopping for a moment and staring at him through the mirror.

“And my mum… but I don’t know, we’ll miss you. Right, baby bear? We’ll miss mummy all day.” he cooed, kissing your cheek again and then Teddys.

“I’ll miss you both” you grabbed Teddy off the counter and leaned back into him.

Your mum had flown into Liverpool and you were meant to meet her at Lime Street to take the train to London with her. It made no sense at all. When she left tonight, she was flying out of London as well. She expressed how badly she wanted to see Trent and Teddy but ‘couldn’t stay’ she was meeting your dad in Marbella for some holiday. You didn’t really understand but she at least offered to come with you to go to your first appointment to look at wedding dresses.

You remember hiding your relationship from her and your whole family when you first flew to Liverpool. Lauren came to your apartment before you even went to visit Trent confused where you had been, you’d been that MIA before you were even out of the country. Once you got over to England it was like you disappeared. Your friends were blowing up your phone asking you where you were but you just read the messages as you looked at Trent with heart eyes next to you in bed. Trent was cautious but definitely bolder when it came to admitting he wanted you to be his girlfriend, telling you he loved you. He was out in the open about it. You were scared. So telling everyone you knew you loved a boy you met that just so happened to be your celebrity crush. You thought your friends and family would roll their eyes thinking you were getting played. You had good intuition though. People always say they can read others well. You never say that but you really could. You could tell out the gate Trent was genuine and that’s what was so scary. His words and actions did nothing but reassure you. It was hard to wrap your head around the fact that someone loved you the way he did. Everything he did to and for you was so genuine all the time. He touched you in ways, literally and figuratively, no one else ever had or could. He was in love with you. He did things for you he’d never done for anyone else before and put you before everything. You were the most important person to him and that was how you got here on the train sitting across from your mum passing through rolling hills and small towns on the way to London.

“So no venue yet but we want the dress?” She spoke looking at you. You could feel her inspecting every single pore on your face. She meant well she just wanted the best out of you all the time.

“Mum…I’m just getting the ball rolling. I thought it’d get me excited, motivated to start looking.” you tried to explain as calmly as possible. You kept your voice low and slow but inside you were not surprised at all by her.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry you’re right.” She waved her hands dismissing her first comment. “but I still do think we need to do Gurneys” She followed up just reinserting herself about selecting a venue she preferred.

“I know what you think but it’s not we” You paused gesturing between the two of you. “It’s me and T. It’s our wedding. I want it to fit us, reflect us.” She nodded like she understood but kept talking anyways.You actually did always want to get married there but you needed her to understand you wanted to not for any other reason.

“So what date would you do if you’re going to be out east?” She asked. ‘Out East’ is what you called the beach for context. You couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “You couldn’t possibly do it midsummer, your makeup would drip right off but with his schedule…” She rambled. She was essentially talking to herself, that's how little you were entertaining her. You understood all of the logistical hurdles you’d have to handle considering you were marrying a footballer you didn’t need anyone to remind you.

“Mum please.” You, as kindly as you could, asked her to stop once and for all, at least on this ride. She rolled her eyes the exact same way you did. A third party would probably laugh at how similar your features and mannerisms were. You opened your phone to read your texts, one from Trent that was a picture of Teddy.

‘Missing mummy xx’ you smiled and then one from Winnie

‘Have fun lol’ You knew she sent it to tease you. Your mum had been ranting to Winnie everytime she couldn’t get a hold of you on the phone to talk about the wedding. Winnie knew preemptively that your train ride would be filled with just this type of conversation.

You got into London and were able to walk to Halfpenny, a bespoke bridal salon. Your mum actually knew Kate Halfpenny through a friend of a friend of a friend, they met at some gala. Regardless, since you heard the name ages ago her dresses had been pinned in your mind to remember for when you did get married. It just sort of fit though and you thought it’d be nice to wear an English designer if you were going to get married in America. You probably wanted to wear more than one dress on the weekend but that was a topic for later. You stood on a pedestal in the changing room of the atelier and had tried on about 10 styles of dresses. If you did like one from Halfpenny you kind of wanted it to be bespoke but this would help get you started on what looked right. The first dress you tried on almost made you feel sick. It was bizarre seeing yourself in a wedding dress. You felt 5 years old like you were dressing up but you weren’t. When you got to the eleventh a warmth came over you as you stepped into the fabric. Your heart slowed as the stylist in the room with you zipped it up.

“Oh my god.” You felt your eyes water looking back at yourself in the mirror. Your breath completely left your chest. “Mum…” You croaked out barely above a whisper. The stylist peeled back a curtain for you to walk out for your mum. She was sat on a couch drinking a glass of champagne. She looked quintessentially her.

“Oh my baby girl. Now this….this was made for you.” She cooed. Your eyes watered more hearing her compliment. Her approval. She got up from her seat, placing her glass down and stood behind you in the mirror. She slid her hands around your waistline stretching her thumb and index finger as if she was measuring you but you couldn’t even process that when she started speaking again. “He was made for you Y/N. This is the one for both of your special days.” You sniffled. You were shocked she felt this way. You were surprised she actually listened and acknowledged it was your and Trent’s day.

“I think so too.” You cried with a little bit of a giggle. “Sorry.” You apologized, wiping your tears away. You really hadn’t anticipated finding anything close to something you actually wanted to wear on your wedding day. You left the salon with a lot of information about possible alterations you could make to the dress, things that could make it yours* You wanted this dress, it felt right but you needed a moment to have a think about it. You didn’t want to pull the trigger just yet.

“Are you happy hun?” Your mum asked as she held your hand in the black cab as you made your way to a late lunch at Claridge’s a little further in towards Mayfair. You nodded. You sat across from your mum inspecting photos she had taken of you in the dress.

“I don’t want to tell him I found one in case it jinxes things so don’t tell anyone.” You explained to her without looking up from your phone.

“I haven’t kept a secret in years.” She laughed. Her admission was probably very true. “We haven’t had secrets in years.” she cooed, reaching her hand out across the table to grab yours. You flashed your eyes up to hers. She looked sad but in a sentimental way.

“Well,” You cut the emotional moment. “Then it’s only fitting.” You picked up your champagne glass and stuck out your pinky unfolding it from the stem of the glass. Your grandmother always used to do that with your mum when they agreed on something. You linked pinkies clinking your glasses. Always with a drink, always with a secret, always with a coy smirk. She returned the smile back at you appreciating your gesture.

You and your mum parted ways and you were on your way back to your little family up north. Trent had gone to training so Dianne watched Teddy but he was back home now waiting for you. You could’ve stayed down in London but you wanted to get home and see them. You also didn’t want to put Dianne or anyone else you leaned on to take care of Teddy while Trent had training. Your uber dropped you off and you walked in through the side door of the house. Trent was on the couch with Teddy when he heard the alarm for the door opening beep. Teddy’s eyes widened noticing the sound.

“Is that mummy? Hmmm?” He asked.Her face beamed excitedly recognizing the word. “Yeah, we are excited mama’s home.” Trent stood up with her. You almost squealed seeing them. You didn’t think you’d feel emotional leaving for a day. You put your bag on the table and ran towards Teddy. She let out the squeal you were feeling.

“Hii my Teddy bear. You look even more beautiful than when I left you. How do you do that?! Give me a kiss.” you pursed your lips and she did her best imitation. “Mwah!” You kissed her. Trent gestured his hands as if he had been waiting patiently. “Oh and a kiss for daddy. Hi.” you sighed leaning into his chest.

“Missed you” he pulled you into him swaying back and forth. “She’s been so chatty, today.” He informed you.

“Oh wow, really? Daddy talks a lot. huh?” you pinched her cheek and listened as she in fact did seem to be babbling a lot of ‘bah’ and ‘pah’ sounds lately but you didn’t miss the chance to poke fun at Trent, the certified yapper. He ignored you.

“Yeah. Like non stop ‘bah, bah, bah’” Trent impersonated her including a sloppy kiss onto your cheek. You laughed and pushed at his chest to get him off of you.

“So accurate… Thank you.” You giggled, wiping his slobber off of your face. Teddy’s kisses were cute but if you weren’t helping her or guiding them… the unannounced ones were wet. More of a raspberry effect. She didn’t totally get it just yet. Her mouth was open a lot of the time. She loved to try to copy you and Trent. She would randomly try to kiss you the same way you did to each other but you just found yourself with her mouth over your nose or her lips sucking on your cheeks just drooling on you. She wanted to try to replicate the sound but failed miserably and adorably

“Need to change you, Yeah?” you asked Teddy, flicking your eyes to Trent. “Daddy’s so nice waiting for me to come home to do it.” Trent tried to talk and explain he didn’t realize but you just shook your head and proceeded upstairs unbothered. You actually didn’t mind that’s how much you missed her. You were just giving him a hard time. You walked into her nursery and set her down on the changing table but she reached out her chubby arms trying to grab for you.

“Did you miss mummy, Ted? Because I missed you so much.” You spoke to her. You picked her up and gave her a big hug swirling her around before returning her to the place you needed her. She continued to coo. “You’re so sweet, baby.” She happily kicked her legs. You were on autopilot.

“Mamba” she grabbed for you again with her tiny hands.

“What baby?” You asked her wide eyed. Your heart practically stopped beating.

“Mama” She cooed again more concretely and clearly attempting to move towards you. Your eyes welled up immediately. You started to cry with a pout looking down at her. She just stared up at you like she’d done nothing. She clutched onto your shirt hugging the material to her little body.

“T! You yelled tearfully. She said it once more when you heard his footsteps sprinting up your staircase. You weren’t in the frame of mind to tell him everything was more than okay.

“What’s wrong?” He rushed into the room grabbing the doorframe to swing in. “Fuck! Sorry. What happened?” He scanned the room frantically. You stood by her changing table stroking her cheek with tears in your eyes as she just stared at him innocently. You turned your body towards him.

“She said mama. Like her first word was mama. She said mama first. Oh my god, I really thought she’d say daddy.” You cooed tearfully as Trent waked over closer to you listening intently making sure nothing was actually wrong.

“Oh my days! Shut up!” He first reacted excitedly, leaning his head onto your shoulder to look at Teddy in all her first word glory. It was a millisecond later that he registered what you said. “Thank you for rubbing it in by the way. But wait really?” he laughed and then questioned you if she really did. Recently she was getting close to a lot of ‘almost’ words. He crouched down to her and picked her up. You put your arm on his shoulder, looking at both of them. “Did you say your first word, smart girl?” He asked her.

“Sorry! Sorry! Oh, now I feel bad but I’m so excited.” You pressed your face into the nape of his neck. You giggled a little not meaning to offend him. He kissed your hair and held you with his free arm.

“Be excited. She loves you so much, I told you she does. Don’t you love mummy, Ted?” He asked her with a big smile. Seeing both your faces covered in joy and excitement was compelling enough for her to give it another go.

“Mama” She squealed again, liking your reaction to her. She reached for you. Trent blew raspberries on her stomach, not letting her get to you teasingly. He stopped for a moment amid her giggles though and pouted happy to hear her talking.

“Yeah! Good girl. It’s Mama and dada.” You kissed her cheek as she wiggled in his arms repeating the word loving the attention.

“So smart already, baby bear. Do you want to say daddy now? Trent asked selfishly. You rolled your eyes. He was genuinely excited for her and for you but he loved to win. He wanted to be first.

“No! We’re happy like this.” You giggled. You snatched her from Trent. You gave her a big kiss on the lips as you spun around holding her. “Mwah!’ Mama loves you so much, Teddy girl.”

“Wow…..” he folded his arms but felt like his heart was going to explode. Of course, he was a little jealous but seeing you with her, seeing that smile on your face, seeing the big smile on Teddy’s face, this is all he wanted for you. For your family. These moments. You laid on a soft pink play mat on the floor with her.

“Come lay dada!” you beckoned him down to sit with you. He groaned having to bend down complaining he was ‘sore from footie.’ You laid on the floor of her nursery mesmerized by the two syllables babbling from her perfectly pink pout. ‘Mama’ again and again. You never got tired of it. Teddy tired out quick though so you set her up for her nap and headed down stairs once she was fast asleep.

You and Trent made your way to the cinema to watch something. You didn’t really care what he chose. You sat with your legs criss crossed on the couch while you worked on your Mac emailing about wedding things. Researching. Planning. Organizing.

“Baby I think we need to split the wedding up between two places.” You cooed, scrolling through a mock itinerary you made.

“Oh yeah? What do you mean?” He looked at you intrigued. Trent slid over and squished next to you wrapping his arm around you. He rested his head onto your shoulder to look at your screen with you. You smiled excited to show him.

“Okay, so we do Manhattan one day and then Montauk the next. But” you emphasized for him to not respond yet, you had more to say. “I was thinking we can do a fun play on words thing though for like invites or napkins or whatever… you get it.” His brow furrowed watching your mouth move but not understanding fully. “From Manhattan to Merseyside… It’s good right?” you asked, bright eyes turning to him.

“Clever girl” He kissed your lips. You asked him what he thought and he was quiet for a moment. “I actually really like it but it’s whatever you want. One question though, napkins… explain that to me?” You laughed and kissed him. Bless. He didn’t spend his time as a teenager online thinking about his wedding and what cute graphic would be embossed on the cocktail hour napkins the way you did. So you explained and showed him.

“Okay, so we’ll do me and you and Teddy at city hall…here, just us.” You started burning through the docket of how you wanted the sequence of events to go. “We’ll fly to New York. Then do a big lunch at Tavern On The Green, right?” you looked at him for approval but you could’ve said the moon and he would have agreed with a smile. “That night.” you paused continuing to scroll to the next page of your document. “A party at The Plaza, of course.” He hummed. “Next day, we can go out to Montauk and have the actual ceremony at Gurneys like my mum wants, then just an easy intimate dinner at my parents, just our people.” You finished taking a deep breath. You really loved the idea of having the reception at your parents. You and Trent were private so as much as you wanted to have a blowout you wanted it to be with people you loved and trusted. You’d seen massive parties your parents had thrown at your house before overlooking the beach and they were perfection but you loved the challenge of out doing your mum.

“Yeah, I’m into that. Just our people and us.” He kissed your temple while examining your document again reaching over you to scroll. “What’s the vibe like?” He asked. He obviously knew all the places you were talking about, you’d been together but he wanted to know the overarching theme. He knew better than to use that word though. You emphasized early that you personally did not like a themed wedding.

“Okay, like very…” You rambled about 15 adjectives describing your dream wedding ranging with the juxtapositions of “coastal but city” and then “chic but relaxed.” He listened intently. “You get it. That je ne sais quoi.” you gestured with your hands.

“Gonna have to give me visual aids here I think.” he laughed, squeezing your hip. “ but it sounds good, sounds perfect, baby.” You tilted your head to look up at him to make sure he actually meant it. You wanted to plan this together. He wanted you to take the reins but you wanted his input. You just had built a mock structure but the details, the things that made it intimately him and you, you needed him, the things that mattered.

“Do you want a dress code? I can’t decide.” You asked with a perplexed look he loved. He liked when you were in thought. Not in a patronizing way, it just was really cute. He saw it on your first date as he made you guess what was in the cocktail he ordered. Trent smiled watching you. “What?” You asked shyly, confused why he was looking at you like that.

“I’m glad you're finally excited.” he cooed, admiring you.

“I always was.” You shrugged. You were. It was amazing from day dot. You felt bad he thought you weren’t.

“Nah, now you're proper into it. What changed?” He asked. His big hand coming to grab your chin to tilt your head to look at him.

“Want to know?” You giggled. You were never very good at keeping secrets from him anyways. He nodded, brushing his nose against yours. Encasing you in his scent. “I think I found a dress.” you told him quietly.

“Oh baby.. can I see?” He asked naively. You showed him what you bought or had tried on at shops more often than not. He’d sit in person or facetime nodding as you rambled on about why you pick one color over another and he liked it. He liked listening to you.

“Erm no? That’s not how this works.” You giggled at him forgetting that was traditionally he wasn’t meant to see your dress until the day of your wedding.

“Yeah, but I want to see. Oh my days…” He interrupted his own thoughts with an intruding one. “What are you gonna wear under it that night?” He groaned, working himself up getting ahead of things.He pulled you by your waist closer into him.

“Something.. you’ll have to wait and find out… maybe nothing” you cheekily replied. He groaned, pressing a kiss onto your temple.

“You’re my fucking dream girl.” He rolled his head back onto the cushion and watched you continue to work on the computer with a smile. He loved you. He loved that he was able to make you happy.

Days of ‘mama’ on repeat continued but ‘no’ had also been introduced into Teddy’s vocabulary. It varied from ‘na’ to ‘nob’ or ‘nap’ but you could tell by the facial expression she wanted to say a clear ‘no.’ Tent had gone to training but had to stay late so by the time he came home it was pretty close to Teddy's bed time. Once you started following a bedtime and nap routine, Teddy was sleeping a lot better at night and was taking much longer naps during the day. You were laying in your bed with her. You had just given her a bath before you began her routine you were adamant about keeping for your own sanity. You were just having a cuddle first when a voice nearly made you jump out of your skin.

“Whose in my bed!?!?” Trent came into your room and honestly you didn’t even hear him come home. It scared you. You placed your hand over your heart trying to make sure it was still beating normally.

“Mama!” Teddy yelled. She crawled to you excited to show Trent she knew what the word meant. You pulled her into you and gave her a tight hug and hummed.

“Mama that’s right. Good girl.” You cooed, pressing a kiss to her head.

“Yeah, mama and who else?” Trent asked, putting his stuff down and walking to the bed. “Is my baby bear here?” He asked as he searched around the bed purposely avoiding her as she tried to get his attention. He picked up pillows and moved you a little even. “Mummy, is Teddy here in dada’s bed?” he asked you and you just shrugged with a smile. Teddy fumbled her way over to try to get to his side of the bed crawling, struggling over the bedding like it was a mountain but she managed to grab at his arm. “There she is! My sleepy girl. It’s almost bedtime, yeah?” he continued talking. She giggled but yawned. He faked a yawn himself to tell her that’s what time it was. That daddy was tired too. You moved closer to them on the bed and you cupped Trent’s cheek and kissed him. Teddy almost instantaneously objected with a ‘na’ noise, her little hand reaching for Trent’s face.

“No? Mummy wants to kiss daddy though. We missed him, didn’t we?” you asked her as Trent pulled her in closer to him. He adjusted her in his arms leaning his forehead against hers.

“Did you miss dada?” He asked before he gave her a kiss with her favorite ‘mwah’ sound then all was right in the world because she got a kiss from him as well. “Mmmm. Thank you.” he hummed after she returned it. She nuzzled her cheek against the cotton of his shirt. You caught up about his day but it wasn’t long before you noticed she had already dozed off. “Is it weird that I like that way she smells?” He laughed kissing her. It was so special to see him as a dad. You always knew he’d been good with kids but seeing it first hand, it being his child was so different.

“No, I get it.” You giggled fully understanding him. “I definitely get it.” you cooed kissing her on the head.

It was a hectic week. Everyone was visiting. This weekend was Teddy’s first birthday which in itself had your brain completely scrambled and just for fun, to make things that much more interesting one of the biggest games of Trent’s season coincided with it. Conveniently the Manchester City Liverpool game was at Anfield the Saturday before you had planned to have a party with family and friends for her.

“Come on my big girl! Let’s go see dada.” You grunted picking up her heavy 20ish pound weight from her seat to go sit outside for the start of warm ups. You stroked your thumb over her cheek that had a little bit of the yogurt she had just managed to get literally everywhere. You definitely couldn’t sit outside with her for the full 90 but you could come in and out if she was in your arms and there was food involved, yogurt the first of many snacks.

“Hiiyaaa!” You cooed while walking out into the open air seats of the box seeing George and Tyler.

“Who is that big girl?” Tyler asked standing up to give you a hug. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’re all good. Just hoping this result goes our way or tomorrow will not be fun.” you laughed. Trent would be fine but the thought of him coming off a loss and having to go to your one year olds birthday with all those people at your house wasn't great. You sat down and placed teddy on your knee. “Do you see dada?” you asked her pointing in front of her to follow your finger. She definitely couldn't process what was happening or make out that it was him but you still did it. Trent looked for you between drills and blew a kiss. “Dada loves you so much. Huh?” you cooed to her kissing her temple.

“Doesn’t do that when it’s just me here.” George quipped. He leaned back in his seat pretending to be annoyed.

“When is it ever just you here… like when?” you asked, teasing him because you weren’t sure there’d ever been to a game either you or an immediate Alexander-Arnold family member was at in the last almost 4 years.

“Relax, you got the ring, you had the baby, I’m not competing with you anymore, you don’t have to worry if I’m at his games and you're not.” George made fun of you. Tyler laughed. George was amazing. He adjusted well to the fact that he went on holiday with his best friend and Trent had returned with you and you’d never been apart really since. It was a joke though constantly who knew Trent better, who he liked more, stupid stuff like that but he waved his white flag after your engagement. It was just purely banter.

“Never were in the race, George, you were never even in the race.” You teased, patting his knee jokingly patronizing him.

“Ted, are you excited to be one year old?” George asked as he tried to pick her up off of your lap to come and sit with him. She wiggled in his grasp trying to grab back for you though. “No? You don’t want to be one? Don’t worry mate, I don’t want to be turning twenty six either.” He told her. George had a birthday a few days after Teddy’s which was cute in theory but you did feel bad that last year she kind of stole his best friend. Trent had just had a child at the very beginning of his season, things were busy to say the least so George’s birthday wasn’t really celebrated the same way they had in the past.

“Mama!” Teddy cooed as she wiggled more and more adamantly trying to get back to you.

“Oh… she just doesn’t like me, got it. It’s because I’m almost 26 innit?” George joked, handing her back to you. She clung to you as if she had been away from months, not momentarily still only an arms length away.

“Don’t say that! She just loves mummy, huh? Gimme a kiss, Ted.” You asked her. Her grubby hands gripped both your cheeks. “Mwah!” you kissed her lips but in her attempt to imitate you she just practically spit onto your face.

“See, that’s… that’s lovely that… That is enough for me to wear a condom.” George quipped with a laugh.

“George! Don’t say that in front of my baby!” you yelled at him. Cupping your hands over Teddy’s ears. It wasn’t like he actually said anything bad you were just being dramatic but you definitely didn’t want Teddy's third word to be condom, but that would be far fetched.

“I’m teaching her about safe sex! Her parents clearly don’t understand how that works.” George made fun of you looking at Tyler for some back up. He wasn’t wrong. I mean you understood safe sex in regards to health and STD checks or other partners pre trent but from the night you met to date… ‘pulling out’ wasn’t really something either of you enjoyed. You were tempting fate every time. “I'm kidding! I’m kidding! Relax!” He teased you.

“You’re right she doesn’t like you and it is because you’re almost 26.” you chirped back at him snidely just as Teddy reached out to inspect what he was holding. It was only his phone but his case caught the light enough to catch her attention. “Oh Ted…” you cooed disappointedly. Her leaning back towards him kind of debunked your comment that she didn’t like him, which wasn’t true to begin with. She was so cute and open minded. She wanted to be held by you. Be right where she could feel you but she wanted to explore at the same time and you liked that she was curious.

The final whistle blew. A draw. It wasn’t the result you had hoped for. It definitely wasn’t the result Trent had wanted but he was fine, just disappointed. You went home from Anfield and went through your family’s normal post match routine but as Trent was winding down you we're finishing a few things downstairs for Teddy’s birthday tomorrow. You had wrapped all her gifts, you had the party planner coming over tomorrow morning to set up in your back garden so you wanted to make sure what she needed was ready, you had written Trent a little note thanking him for the best year of your life and giving you Teddy, you also set up your dining room table to be decorated for her breakfast tomorrow, stuff like that.

“Can you believe a year ago you had our baby?” He asked half asleep. When you woke up Sunday, Trent was absolutely exhausted. He cuddled into you laying on top of you practically with his face in your boobs. You hummed “Thank you, beautiful.” He muffled out into your chest.

“I guess you're welcome.” you giggled. “I mean you were there as well.” you cooed stroking his high cheekbone.

“Nah, baby. You do so much more than you give yourself credit for. You carried her for 9 months, you gave birth to her, you’ve been the most incredible mother to her for a whole year. I mean look how smart and beautiful and kind and happy she is. That’s because of you. I know I’m not at home with you two as much as I wish I could be but honestly, baby, you’re amazing. You’re the most supportive partner. I cannot wait to marry you. Thank you for everything you do for her, for me, for us. I couldn’t imagine my life without you. You’re such a good mummy like you don’t understand what it’s like to watch you with her…” He kept babbling on and on talking like he didn’t have an off button but his voice was slow, tired, and sleepy.

“Go back to sleep, baby.” You whispered into his hair, placing a kiss. You appreciated all the love and you felt the exact same way about how he was as a dad but he was so tired. He needed to get some more sleep before people swarmed your house for the party.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, a sleepy haze beginning to fall back over him. You massaged his back with one hand the best you could. “I’d do it all over again, just the same.” he mumbled again and then he was out cold.

“Good morning my beautiful baby girl.” You cooed standing above Teddy’s crib. She sleepily in the most adorable way ever rubbed her hands over eyes. “Are you one years old today?” You sang leaning over to smush a kiss onto her. You picked her up in her cute little pink onesie slow and steady bringing her up into your chest. She laid her head onto your shoulder but reached her tiny hand out for Trent next to you.

“Happy birthday baby bear. You’re such a big girl now. Can you stop getting so old please?” He cooed with a little laugh. You did your morning routine with her and then carried her downstairs. “Aw baby this is nice.” Trent turned to look at you now holding Teddy. “What do you think of all the balloons, Ted?” He asked her tapping at one hover at their height. You covered the dining room in balloons and decorations.

“Yeah, it’s sweet. I know she won't remember but it matters to me.” You spoke as you worked your way through the breakfast you were cooking for them. They sat at the table playing some variation of peek-a-boo. You finished and brought Trent his plate, omelet, sausage, little bit of fruit, and one pancake. You walked back to the kitchen before Trent could even say thank you to grab the plate you made for Teddy. You had stacked pancakes and put a few birthday candles in it. Trent pouted as you brought it to her. You were really good for them. You put time into taking care of this family. You sang happy birthday to her and she clapped along before you helped her blow out her candles.

“She might not remember but I will, I remember every little thing you do for us. I won't let her forget how good you are to her. Plus, we have photos to show her” Trent whispered just to you and then kissed your temple. It warmed your heart and made you feel good knowing he noticed how much effort you put in everyday. “Did mummy do a good job?” Trent asked Teddy as she ate one tiny bit of pancake at a time. Trent poked his fork into one of the small pieces and popped it into his mouth. “MMMmmm, good job mummy.” He looked at you with his mouth full. Teddy spread her hand as wide as she could and tried to cover her food. She did not like that he just took a piece. It was so cute watching her develop a personality. You were helping Teddy with her food when Trent slid a small neatly wrapped gift box over to you.

“For Ted? Do you want her to open now? I thought we’d do gifts before everyone came over but…” You asked him confused for a moment.

“Nah.. for mummy.” He corrected you that this gift was not for Teddy. He wiped her chin and she giggled. “Yeah, is this for mama from Teddy?” He asked her and then flicked your eyes to you. You pouted unwrapping it with tears filling your lash line.

‘Thank you for bringing me into the world and all you’ve done since. You’re the best mummy. You make daddy and I so happy. I love you more and more everyday. xx Always your Teddy.

“You okay?” Trent asked you softly, letting you have a moment first. It was a small gold teddy bear necklace. It was adorable yet chic. You couldn’t wait to put it on. It’d look amazing with the current stack you’d been wearing but that wasn’t really got you. He was so good to you.

“Sorry I didn’t think I’d be this emotional today.” Him writing a little note from your daughter just about shattered your heart. You couldn’t believe you had a whole family. “When did this all happen? I have a child, T. I had a child. “ You pointed out the obvious to him.

“Yeah, I know.” He laughed. “I was there for the whole thing. Start to finish, quite literally.” He joked, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I love you so much. I’m so happy this all did happen.” he cooed.

“I am so glad this all happened. I love you.” you tearfully got out more words but started to giggle when you felt a tiny hand pull at you. “And you… I love you the most on the planet! Thank you my Teddy bear! Mwah!” you kissed her. “For my necklace. Mwah!” You flicked your gaze to Trent acknowledge him. You kissed her again. “And for making us a family. Mwah!” you kissed her once more as she giggled away excitedly cooing a ‘mama.’

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 14 xx

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #taa66 #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n

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alicerosejensen · 1 month ago

Text

All pets go to heaven

Warning: mention of pet deaths; hurt/comfort; angst; dad!Leon.

Synopsis: This is a tragedy in Leon's family. It was inevitable, but it broke one small child's heart.

A/n: I am writing this because my beloved cat who lived with me for 17 years died. It is a great pain to lose pets who have become part of the family, and even knowing that this is inevitable, the pain will not become less. Although I am already an adult, this is the first time I have encountered this pain. I'm just trying to distract myself a little bit and, as always, find solace in writing while my heart heals.

Everyone who has pets - love them because their lives are so short compared to ours. We are their whole life, and they are only a part of it for us.

Losing is always hard. Returning home after a difficult mission that somehow miraculously passed without unnecessary sacrifices, Leon hoped to return to the calm atmosphere of his house where you and your baby girl were waiting for him, whom he had just bought gifts. Some sweets, soft toys, besides, as he drove up to the house, he was thinking about a family outing somewhere to an amusement park and then drop into some cafe and eat ice cream. It would be a great therapy for him and a good opportunity to make up for lost time with his family.

He has already written to you about his imminent return, but did not expect that when he entered the house, he would feel some unusual emptiness. Something that was not as usual when he returned.

You immediately left the kitchen holding a glass of water in your hands when you heard the bang of the front door, which caused a slight smile to blossom on your sad face.

"Leon!" you shouted, putting the glass on the frame that he was home with you again. "You're back! Why didn't you call? I would have prepared something special for dinner."

Leon frowned into your eyes. It's like you've been crying recently. He put the bag on the frame next to the keys, hugged you to him, put his head on top of your head, feeling you relax in his arms.

"I texted you on your phone, wanted to surprise D/N, bought something for her and for you. By the way, where is she? And what happened to your eyes? Did something happen while I was gone?

You nodded softly, freeing yourself from the ring of his arms, and looked up at the second floor, which only made Leon tense, making him nervous.

"Let's go to the kitchen, I'll warm up your lunch" you took Leon's hand hoping that he would immediately follow you and not do everything his own way "And tell you everything. D/N fell asleep in her room recently. I'm sorry, I've hardly picked up the phone lately."

And yet, going into the kitchen, Leon could not help but feel the oppressive atmosphere involuntarily returning him to the distant past where he also sat at the table with an excess of alcohol before the next call from his superiors, waiting for him to be sent on a new mission. The feeling he hoped would never come back. You were sluggishly putting the leftovers of yesterday's lunch on a plate, putting it in the microwave to heat up the food, while Leon was behind you looking at the corner where there were always cat bowls with food and water for Oliver...

It's so strange that the darling of the whole family didn't come out to meet him, as it always was, and now his bowls are gone, but the first thought was that you just decided to wash them and just haven't put them in place yet, and Oliver sleeps on the couch in the living room or in the D/N room, lately because of age He slept a lot.

"The furry fighter sleeps with D/N" joked Leon, sinking into a chair and taking the fork in his hand that you put in front of him.

You shook your head negatively.

"You know, a few days after you left, he got really bad." you began to explain after a heavy sigh, "He was already old by cat standards, at first he began to eat less, then he stopped altogether. He drank only one water, the vet said his kidneys were failing. I decided not to torture him, after all, no matter how painful it was for me to say goodbye to him, I didn't want Oliver to suffer in the last few days, but he quietly died his own death. It makes me feel a little calmer, but D/N... Our girl has been crying for three days."

Leon felt like he had lost all his words. That's why he never got animals, probably because he knew that sooner or later he would have to say goodbye to the one he became attached to, but he met you when you took Oliver as a kitten, and therefore the "furry fighter" as Leon himself called him when they first met, one day also became part of his family along with you. A slightly naughty cat, spoiled, loving to beg for food, when someone just went to the kitchen, often gnawing wires, which is why they had to be hidden. And yet Oliver was part of this family, and D/N love him with all her heart, how could his little girl now know that her beloved furry friend will never come to her again and she will not be able to pet him? Inside Leon everything sank from this thought that his heart demanded to come to his little girl and comfort her.

His appetite immediately disappeared.

"Of course he was old, but it seemed to me that he still had enough strength. He wasn't that bad before I left."

"Yeah," you agreed, placing a plate in front of him.

"He sometimes lost his appetite, but I probably noticed the symptoms too late, although the doctor said that cats often have kidney problems. D/N is the hardest hit. I carefully prepared her for this moment, but three days ago in the morning when she woke up to pet Oliver, he simply did not react - he died peacefully in his sleep. D/N now does not want to do anything, cries all day long and hardly eats."

"I'll go to her," Leon said, getting up from the table without touching his food.

"Leon," you called out to him quietly, causing him to turn around to look at you. "Maybe you can do better than me, to be honest, I haven't been able to find the right words for her in the last three days."

"This... this is not easy for her. She has been with him since birth, but we will succeed, we just need to help her get through this together."

Those were good words. You probably needed them yourself, considering you were the one who picked up Oliver as a kitten, but it's never easy to survive someone else's death, especially someone you loved and cared for for years. While comforting your child, you comfort yourself with the thought that Oliver had lived a good, long cat life. No one had ever hurt him, he lived in warmth, care, and satiety. It was just that his life inevitably came to an end, no matter how much it broke your heart.

Leon paused for a few seconds in front of the door as he climbed the stairs. He often comforted Jane when she was injured or upset about something, but death... It was incredibly difficult for a child to face something like that, especially when his girl loved all animals so much. Leon quietly opened the door and immediately heard sobs that involuntarily made him feel guilty.

Of course he should have been there for her during this difficult period, but he wasn't there, and you alone weren't enough. D/N cries quietly, turning away to the window, hugging a soft toy, not even hearing the steps behind her, immersed only in her grief. Before, she would have jumped out of bed and run to her father, spreading her arms for a hug, and then would have hung on his neck for a long time, begging him to play with her until late in the evening, but now...

"Sunshine, daddy is here"

Leon whispered, sitting down next to her on the bed and putting his hand on her shoulder.

There was another sob. D/N didn't even turn around when she heard his voice, but she definitely realized that her father had returned. How could he blame her? In general, Leon often found himself thinking that it was in his nature to forgive everything to those he loved, especially if it was his own blood. It was more difficult than scraped knees or broken favorite toys. This is the realization to a little girl that her furry friend is gone forever.

She continued to squeeze the toy, sobbing, burying her nose in the pillow. Even when Leon bent down to turn on the night lamp.

"Oliver is gone," she lisped, sniffing loudly, "Mom said he's in a better place now, but I want him back.

"I know, sweetie, I know. I'm so sorry that I wasn't there at that moment." Leon bent down to her, brushing her hair from her face, still gently stroking her back, hoping to ease those tears a little, but it seemed terrible. This is not a situation where you could turn everything into a joke or make her pay attention to something else.

Father's mind rightly told him only that it was necessary for Jane to survive this. That sometimes those we love inevitably leave. An experience that no one wants to go through on their own skin, and Leon himself never wanted such suffering for his daughter.

Leon spoke again only when the children's sobs subsided under his caring hand.

"We all loved him very much, even when he was doing his cat chores past the tray or gnawing on the wires," he smiled, feeling that D/N had done the same, even if she wasn't looking at him. "But unfortunately, the life of animals is much shorter than that of humans. And yet, despite this, I'm sure he was a happy cat. Has anyone offended him?"

She took a deep breath, wiping tears from her cheeks with her palm, finally looking at her father with tear-stained eyes and quietly shook her head in denial.

"N-no" the stuffed toy was back in her hands "But you used to swear at him sometimes"

"Well, sometimes Oliver behaved badly, I mean that some animals are much less lucky. I've never been mad at him for a long time, even when you were very young. You were just born then and you were lying in your crib when Oliver scratched you because you cried."

Leon shrugged, remembering the past, smiling involuntarily.

D/N frowned, scratching her swollen face, clearly not believing Leon's words.

"He didn't hurt me. We always played and he slept next to me."

"It was the only time. I think you were just something new to him and he was scared of loud noises."

These words brought a short smile to her face, which couldn't help but please Leon. He settled down more comfortably next to her, pressing D/N to his shoulder, watching as she gradually began to calm down.

With a heavy sigh, a new stream of tears nevertheless gushed from her eyes after several minutes of silence. "I miss him".

"Shh, I know it's hard. It's really hard but it happened. His life is over and Mom didn't lie to you - Oliver really is in a better place now."

Leon held her small body close to him, letting her cry and cry. His strong embrace protected, but hardly comforted. Even when you came into the room, hearing another cry, this sight of your daughter's tears tore you apart. An endlessly long stage of denial of grief and a childish selfish desire for a beloved cat to come back to life no matter what. You wanted this too, but no one has such power.

You sat down on the other side of the bed so that D/N was in the middle of the two of you, however, it seemed that she did not notice your presence, but you still gently stroked her hair, looking into Leon's eyes, feeling helpless.

Until Leon took her on his lap and kissed the top of her head, ignoring the fact that his shirt and sleeve were now covered in saliva and snot. However, he is a father and this is not the worst thing he could get dirty in.

"Baby, listen to Daddy for a minute," Leon brushed the hair from her tear-stained face, forcing her to look at him, "Do you remember when we watched the cartoon 'all dogs go to heaven'? "

D/N nodded, clutching his arm. You were just reaching for the bedside table for paper handkerchiefs, taking out a couple of them, wiping her face while Leon was talking:

"Of course, the cartoon was about dogs, but it wasn't entirely true. In fact, not only dogs get to heaven, but also cats, birds, hamsters, guinea pigs, it doesn't matter, all pets. And our Oliver is there now too."

"So he's just like Charlie now?" Her voice was hoarse from crying.

Leon nodded, hugging her to him. "Yeah, our Oliver is in the best place now, just like Charlie."

"Can't he wind up the clock too and stay with us a little longer? "

You cast a brief glance at Leon, either rejoicing at the brief glimmer of calm, or on the contrary disapproving of using the plot of an old cartoon as a consolation. On the other hand, what's wrong with a child believing that a pet has gone to heaven after death? At least it would help her start accepting death, because despite still young age, you didn't want to deceive her by coming up with excuses just to hide the painful truth.

It didn't seem like a good idea. So you reached out to D/N, joining the conversation without abandoning your husband in trouble:

"Sweetie, alas, but no. Oliver can no longer come back to us, but he knows that we love him and miss him. And he loves us too."

"Besides," Leon chimed in, "if you remember, no one had the right to wind that clock."

There was that deafening silence again, broken only by sighs and sniffing. Neither you nor Leon dared to speak again while Jane sat quietly on his lap with her eyes downcast, thinking about something of her own. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. After all, this cannot even be considered as such a deception, just a way to cope with the loss.

Cautiously glancing at his wristwatch, Leon saw what time it was and realized that Jane usually falls asleep at this time, but leaving her alone at such a moment... After kissing her on the forehead, Leon easily lifted her into his arms, feeling her arms around his neck as he carried her to your shared bedroom. You didn't even have time to understand anything, just watching with wide eyes as he nods at you in the direction of the door.

"We're not going to cry anymore, are we?" he asked D/N, and although she wiped her cheeks, she still shrugged her shoulders from ignorance, "I bought us all ice cream, so now we're going to wash our faces with you, and then mom will bring us a bucket of ice cream and the three of us will eat and watch cartoon, how do you like this plan?"

Finally she smiled nodding her head in agreement. How could you object? While they were washing in the bathroom, you straightened the bed, took a pillow and a blanket from the nursery and put them in the middle of the bed, then went downstairs, took them out of the freezer, not forgetting the spoons. By the time you returned to the room, Leon and D/N had already selected a cartoon, launched it for viewing and were waiting only for you.

laying down next to her side of the bed, dimming the light, you could see Jane was tired, but she still ate ice cream for a while, after which she settled comfortably under Leon's armpit, falling asleep pretty quickly without watching the cartoon. At least you can all get some sleep.

"So all pets go to heaven?" You asked quietly as you got into bed and watched Leon carefully place Jane's head on the pillow so that he could take a bath and go to bed himself.

He just sighed, grabbing a towel and a set of clothes from the closet, turning to you, speaking in a whisper so as not to wake the child.

"So be it. In the end, despite all the cat's antics, I also want to believe that this cat is now somewhere where he is good." He bent down to leave a short kiss on your lips.

"You don't believe it," you said, stopping him in the aisle, forcing him to turn around and look at you again. "Allright, the main thing is that it worked and she was able to calm down a little."

Leon looked at you sadly as you put the empty bucket on the bedside table lying down next to D/N. After all, it was difficult for you too, but crying in front of a child was unacceptable. However, he knew that you were the one who sheltered Oliver, which is why his death hurt you no less, if not more.

"It doesn't matter what I believe, with my job it's hard to believe in something like that, but now I really want to think that all pets go to heaven. And not only them..."

Fair or not, you both lay in bed for a long time without falling asleep, listening to your daughter's childish snores. After the shower, Leon held your hand for a long time in silence, realizing that it was not only Jane who really needed comfort, but you too.

All pets go to heaven... falling asleep you also wanted to believe that your Oliver is now in a place where he will never feel bad or that perhaps he will really come back again in the form of another cat.

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