#native trails sink

[whattheheckfestival]

Master Bedroom Milwaukee Inspiration for a large contemporary master carpeted and beige floor bedroom remodel with blue walls

[georgeshowroom]

Explore the Unique Range of Native Trails Sinks

Explore the unique range of Native Trails sinks at George's Showroom, where beauty meets functionality in every design. Crafted from sustainable materials, these sinks enhance your kitchen or bathroom while promoting eco-friendly practices. Each sink is designed with attention to detail, ensuring durability and easy maintenance. Elevate your space with Native Trails sinks and experience the perfect blend of style and sustainability!

[thetwinsofevil]

Bathroom 3/4 Bath in Hawaii Medium-sized, minimalist bathroom with a trough sink, flat-panel cabinets, gray cabinets, beige walls, and a light-colored wood floor and gray floor.

[hellosaidthemoonisafangirl]

Philadelphia Home Bar

Inspiration for a mid-sized transitional open concept light wood floor, brown floor and vaulted ceiling family room remodel with a bar, gray walls, a standard fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[haylee-scribbles]

Bathroom - 3/4 Bath Medium-sized, minimalist bathroom with a trough sink, flat-panel cabinets, gray cabinets, beige walls, and a light-colored wood floor and gray floor.

[dissolvedshadows]

Calgary Laundry Laundry Room

[autumnlesterhowell]

Kitchen Great Room (Milwaukee)

[reidrum]

stargazing | s.r.

A/N: this was a request and the concept itself makes me sick so here’s this, spencer reid i will fight your demons for you get behind me

summary: in which you attempt to heal a little part of spencer, one star at a time

cw: just fluff and comfort, fear of dark, can be read as gn!reader

wc: 1.1k

Learning about Spencer was a privilege, if you had to describe it. He would most likely say the same about you if he was asked, but god does he not know the marvel of discovering the inner workings and tinkerings that is Spencer Reid.

You knew he loved magic because of the child-like wonder and imagination it brings him. He always reads old literature in their native language because he believes the translated ones muddle the original intent. He refuses to wear matching socks because he loves when kids point out they’re mismatched and he gets to act all silly with them.

And tonight, you’ve learned yet another one. Spencer Reid is afraid of the dark.

It’s a logical fear to have, hell you still sleep with a nightlight and stuffie every night too. But for Spencer, it was different. The darkness didn’t just remind him of the unknown, it reminded him of places he’d been, places he spent countless nights trying to forget about but latch onto him like a blood sucking leech.

When you found out about it, it was completely unintentional. It happened at a movie night about a week ago, it was getting too late for you to drive back home so Spencer offered you to stay over and head back in the morning. After he’d given you a change of his clothes he went and got settled on the bed, and you went over to the light switch to turn it off.

“Wait!” you hear Spencer rush out, “Do you mind if we…keep it on?”

“You sure? I thought you were really sleepy.”

He looks at you nervously, “I—I am, it’s just…” he trails off.

It takes you a few seconds to understand what he really means, a look of recognition washing over your face while Spencer’s fills with guilt.

“It’s okay, we can keep it on.” you say lightly, walking back over to get under the covers with him. You cozy up next to him and look up, “I didn’t know you were…”

“I don’t really talk about it, I’m sorry.” he whispers, his voice still holding what sounded like shame to you.

“Spence, it’s okay you don’t need to explain to me. Just want you to be comfortable, okay?”

He nods one last time before sinking his head down onto his pillow, and through his lashes wishes you good night. It really broke your heart to see Spencer be so affected by something that made him feel scared and self conscious. You just wish you could do something to help him feel better.

Lucky for you, you knew Spencer really well.

The next movie night you came prepared with a surprise of your own, hoping it would ease Spencer’s anxieties a little as he tried his best to rest.

“You look excited. More than you usually are when I pick an old Russian movie.” he remarks with a soft smile, opening the door wider for you.

“While I am very excited to watch Catch 22 in Russian, I brought something for you!”

He looks at you quizzically, “What? You didn’t need to bring anything, you know that—”

You wave him off and bound over to the couch, “Come sit, I’ll show you.”

Spencer shuts the door and sits next to you as you produce an opened package from behind your back, “Okay, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,”

“Always a great way to start a sentence.” he quips.

“Stop! I’m being serious,” you lightly thwap him on the shoulder, “Okay, I couldn’t stop thinking about how you told me you’re afraid of the dark, and I’m really happy that you felt comfortable enough to tell me, but it also made me really sad to think about you alone in your room not feeling okay…so.”

Before Spencer can even respond you pull out the contents of the opened package and lay it in your lap, beginning to work on opening the outer plastic. His brows furrow slightly, “What is that?”

You smile, “Well I was going to get you a cool nightlight, I saw some sick Tardis ones or even a pumpkin shaped one. Which I can still get if you want or if you hate this…” you finally get the last plastic off and pull out what’s inside, “But I got you these.” you hold them out for him to see.

Spencer gazes over your hands and asks, “Stars?”

“They’re glow in the dark stars,” you say matter of factly. You hold one out for him, watching him cup his hand around his eye to shroud the star in darkness and see its glow, “I used to have them on the ceiling and walls in my room when I was little.”

He smiles fondly thinking about a tiny you in a tiny bed, staring up at the stars on your ceiling as you try to fall asleep. You continue softly, “I was thinking we could put these up in your room and make little astronomically correct constellations on your ceiling. The intention is that whenever you look up you can remind yourself of the stories of the constellations to help you fall back asleep. But whenever you’re feeling afraid or scared, you can look up and see Ursa Major or Cassiopeia reminding you that you’re safe.”

Spencer is not often left speechless, but he’s come to learn that anything’s possible with you. He is not able to process that you took it upon yourself to find a solution to something that’s been plaguing his sleep for years, something that he didn’t even know could be fixed. A few tears escape from his eyes before he can help it, followed by a quick sniffle that brings your attention back to his face.

“Oh Spence,” you breathe out, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, no I’m not upset,” he pulls his sleeve to wipe his eyes, “The exact opposite, actually. This…is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

You smile softly, “I just wanted to help. You deserve to rest and feel safe in your own space. If I can help with that in any way, I will.”

For the fear of crying again in front of you, Spencer grabs you and pulls you close to his chest, the smell of his laundry detergent and cologne overwhelming your senses so much you almost miss the muffled ‘Thank you’ whispered into your hair.

You press a small kiss to his chest, right on his heart before standing up and gathering the stars in your hands, “Okay, so which constellation are we doing first?”

All the love inside of him is about to burst as he looks at you about to walk into the bedroom, “Have I ever told you about the story of Perseus and Andromeda?”

[syoddeye]

kinktober - day 01 - breast worship

nikolai x f!reader | 1.4k words cw: biting, nipple play, breeding kink, daddy kink summary: you have a surprise for nikolai. banner by @/cafekitsune | kinktober list

“All for me, zolotse?”

Nikolai leers from the doorway, scarlet dusting his cheeks, a byproduct from his drinking and exertions minutes ago. Your neck burns from where he’d buried his face in it, sucking marks into your skin between his demands for more on the cabin’s couch.

“I told you I had a surprise.” You shake your head, eyeing him in the reflection of the mirror. Pulling a silk camisole over your head, you tug at the delicate fabric and adjust your tits. With his impatience, it’s a good thing you already put on the matching panties. “Do you like it?”

Your man strides across the room, muttering something in his native tongue, dark eyes scanning top to bottom and up again. You don’t move a muscle as Nik steps as close as possible, thick arms encircling your middle and drawing you backward to his chest. His chain tickles your skin despite the warmth of his breath.

He murmurs a few more words, kissing your exposed skin and swaying slightly with your hands covering his. 

“What are you saying, love?”

“Thanking whatever put me here for putting me here with you. Fuck, look at your tits.” 

“Nik!” You huff, feigning indignation as he breaks his hold to shove his hands up your camisole.

“It’s my surprise, yes? Let me enjoy it. Them. They look magnificent.”

His worn, scarred palms cup your breasts, gently squeezing and lifting. Heat slowly rolls over you, starting from the crown of your head and descending to meet a second source curling in your stomach. With the heavy snowfall outside, it seems he’s dead set on lighting a fire.

Nik meets your gaze in the mirror, retracting a hand to trace a finger along a strap, hooking under it and pulling it over your shoulder. “My favorite color.”

You lick your lips, shrugging coyly. “You’ve mentioned it once…or a dozen times.”

“Brat.” 

You drape your hands over his forearms and tip your head to the side, offering more of your neck as his mouth travels over it. Your nipples strain against the fabric, clearly outlined and demanding more of his attention. Nik likes to tease, to draw things out—play with his food, he said the first time he laid you down. It takes ages for him to do away with the thin top, and his palms are on you so fast you don’t have time to reconcile the money spent with the minutes it was on you.

“There,” Nikolai murmurs, voice rough. “They’re perfect.” He occupies one hand, pinching and plucking at a nipple. Stares single-mindedly over your shoulder, mouth pressed flush, and panting. “Open your legs.” He instructs, his foot already wedging between yours to nudge them further. “Mm, what’s that little spot? Getting wet from just this?”

His fingers pause, only to lift and tap against your lips. You open to let them slide over your tongue and suck without being told. He groans, rutting into your ass. In turn, your nails sink shallowly into his skin.

When he withdraws his fingers, trailing a path of saliva back down to your nipple, you smirk at him in the mirror to hide the quiver of your lip. “And you’re getting hard from just this.”

In his reflection, his teeth seem razor sharp, especially as he punishes your smart tongue with a restrained bite. The sting goes right to your clit. “Maybe so, but I bet I can make you come like this.” His free hand skims over your body, two fingers repeating the intrusion into your mouth.

You think he might be right.

His fingers are merciless in their assault. He bullies your nipples, the wet and hard peaks, and your thigh muscles start to ache from your efforts at keeping them still. He grunts in response to the whines spilling out of you. Pressure builds between your legs, in need of friction. 

The filth he whispers in your ear doesn’t help. He weaves languages together, using what you don't know against you, letting his tone and insistent grinding impart their meaning.

What you do understand, are his plans. “Darling, you're making a mess. After you come, which you will, I’m going to slide right in. Not going to have to prepare you or take it slow at all, am I? You’re going to soak me with that needy pussy, and take all of me, yeah? Look how you fidget.”

Your chest heaves against his hands, deep breaths stuttering at the thought of him bending you over the bed or pinning you flat on the mattress like the night before. He gives a shallow thrust against your ass and you feel it, how he had played you like a fiddle with his hand snaked under your body, crushed into the mattress as he stroked your clit. Another thrust and your cunt pulses around nothing but a fleeting, phantom sensation.

Fuck. You really could come like this. But you want more.

“Nik, please, touch me.”

“I am touching you.”

You whine, pushing back into him stubbornly. “C’mon, you know where.” 

He hums, feigning deliberation, then looses a chuckle with a sigh. He pinches both nipples, tugging until your back arches. “No, you’ll come from this or not at all. But if you manage it, darling, I’ll give you many more.”

That sends a zap along your nerves, cranking up the electrical current already buzzing through every inch of your body. You know he’s good for it, you just have to be, too. After watching his gaze drill into your chest and his hands teasing and toying, you shut your eyes to focus. He seems to catch on after a minute because his lewd promises continue, his stubbly chin grazing your ear.

“Maybe I should fuck these first. We haven’t done that in a while, have we? Always so soft…”

You think about the last time he had pinned you to the bed, dropping his weight on you and giving you no place to go. You had struggled and swore, especially when he spit on you, right between your tits, before grabbing big handfuls and shoving himself between them. That made you see stars. Mesmerized by the rock of his hips, the slick glide of his cock, and how frustratingly close he was to your mouth.

The memory makes your knees buckle slightly, forcing him to hold you tighter as he kneads and paws at your chest.

“Mm, wait. Imagine I finally knock you up,” he practically growls, rolling your nipples. “It would be so easy. I take the copper from your arm—”

“—like hell I let you be the one to remove it.” You hiss, squeezing your eyelids tight to concentrate on how you’re edging closer and closer.

“Darling, I have pried bullets—”

“Nik.” You groan, slipping some. 

He breathlessly laughs. “But if I did, if I did that—we’d try every day, wouldn’t we? And think of how quick it would take. No time, not with me. I’d keep you that way, keep your belly full,” he nips. “Just so I can keep these swollen. How big do you think they would get?”

Beads of sweat dot your hairline and temples. You and Nik have discussed children before. Always in theory, like a distant point on the horizon. A mirage, even, because neither of you have ever imagined yourselves as parents. It doesn’t stop his words from crossing your wires. The idea he wants to fuck a baby into you for your tits to grow is insane, and yet, it pushes you to a cliff. 

“Kolya, I’m going to—”

Nikolai pants into your shoulder. “Oh? You want to make me a daddy, zolotse?” 

Your orgasm rips through you in a sharp jolt. It feels so good, it hurts, and if it wasn’t for Nik’s hands dropping to hug you close, you’d be on your knees. You see stars behind your eyelids, then phosphenes when they open. Your eyeballs feel loose in their sockets from how suddenly relaxed you feel, meeting his smug gaze in the mirror. He lets you hang in his arms a moment longer before you find your feet like a newborn foal. 

“Don’t tell me you are finished already. Where’s your stamina? We need to practice if we’re going to have a baby, right?”

[thef1diary]

2k thot 🫣 voice kink w Pierre, just loving it whenever he speaks French even if you don’t know what he’s saying. Make it as spicy you want 🙃

Keep Talking | P. Gasly

warnings: 18+ smut, doggy (it’s Pierre okay 🫣), slight choking, and obvs voice kink

wc: 800+

masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

You found yourself on all fours, your body arched in ecstasy as Pierre's firm hands gripped your hips. Each thrust sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that consumes every inch of your being.

His fingers dance with precision tracing tantalizing circles around your swollen clit, each touch sending ripples of pleasure through you. But amidst the intoxicating symphony of sensations, it's Pierre's voice that truly sets you ablaze. It's not just the words he speaks, but the language he speaks in, his mother tongue.

"Tu es tellement belle, mon amour," he breathes next to your ear, his voice a velvety whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

You whimper in response, your body trembling underneath his as his words wash over you like a tidal wave of passion. Each syllable, spoken in his native French, is a seductive invitation to lose yourself in the depths of pleasure.

"Tu vas si bien pour moi," he murmurs, the intensity in his voice igniting a firestorm of desire within you.

Each whispered word, each guttural moan, reverberates through you like a melody, his voice a siren's call luring you to the edge of oblivion.

"You're squeezing me so tight, baby, missed me that much, huh?" He asked, switching languages so you can understand and give him an answer.

You whimper and clench involuntarily at his words, biting your lip as he speeds up his thrusts. His fingers slip away from your clit and you almost whine at the loss of pleasure but those fingers quickly wrap around your throat. With his lips grazing your ear, he whispers, "réponds-moi."

"Oui, please, please, Pierre, I missed you so much," you rush out in one breath before another wave of pleasure brings you closer to the edge.

His lips brush tenderly against the side of your head, and you can sense the curve of his smile before he mutters, "that's my good girl."

You make a concerted effort to stifle your own cries and whimpers as his fingers return to your clit, pinching and circling in time with his thrusts. You wanted to focus solely on the intoxicating sound of his voice. Each low groan that escapes his lips, every ragged breath he takes above you, becomes a precious melody that you yearn to etch into the depths of your memory.

Every time he mumbles anything, you clench around his cock, earning a breathless chuckle from him. His amusement is palpable as he realizes the effect his voice has on you, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Do you like it when I tell you how good you feel around me?" he questions, his voice husky with desire. His fingers trail lightly along the curve of your spine, sending a shiver of anticipation throughout your body.

With a soft whimper, you nod, unable to form coherent words as his voice weaves a spell around you, drawing you deeper into the throes of passion.

"Or," he murmurs softly into your ear, his words a tender caress against your skin, as if he's sharing a precious secret. "I think you love tout about my voice."

You inhale sharply at the sensation of his warm breath against your ear, a shiver running down your spine as his words sink in. The intimacy of his tone sends a rush of desire coursing through you, threatening to consume you whole.

"Is that what it is, mon amour?" He continues, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with a mixture of amusement and desire.

You can't help but nod, unable to find the words to express the overwhelming rush of emotions welling up inside you. It's not just the sound of his voice that enthralls you, but the way it makes you feel — cherished, desired, and utterly adored.

You arch into him, grinding your ass against him as he slips in and out of you. You reach your hand behind you, placing your palm on the nape of his neck, bringing him closer.

"Please," you gasp, your voice a desperate plea as waves of pleasure wash over you, threatening to engulf your senses entirely.

Your eyes flutter shut, your head falling forwards in ecstasy as you struggle to form coherent words amidst the overwhelming sensation.

"Don't... don't stop talking," you manage to grit out, your voice trembling with need. Each syllable is a struggle, torn from your lips as if by sheer force of will. But the urgency in your tone is unmistakable, a fervent plea for him to continue, to keep the intoxicating stream of words flowing.

As his voice washes over you like a soothing balm, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, lost in a haze of pleasure that threatens to consume you whole. And in that moment, all you can do is surrender to the overwhelming tide, clinging to his every word like a lifeline in the storm of sensation.

So you do surrender to the overwhelming sensation, allowing yourself to be consumed by the raw intensity of his voice, knowing that in its embrace lies a sanctuary where time stands still, and all that exists is the intoxicating symphony of your shared desire.

Taglist: @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @nikfigueiredo @sya-skies @wonnou

[i-hav3-no-name]

Content warnings: mature content, explicit sex, mirror sex(kinda), fem!vampire!reader, this is my first time writing and english isn’t my native tongue. please let me know if I have missed a warning.

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Jason could hear the rain drops hitting the window as he looked up to the goddess on top of him. She would be smiling innocently, if not for her fangs shining through. He slipped his gaze to the mirror on the ceiling, his bare body covering his sight. Truly not something he wanted to see. He would much rather the sight of her bare back covering his scarred chest.

“Come on now, don’t look like that.”

He turned his gaze back to her.

“‘m not-“

He forgot what he was trying to say, probably how to speak as well, when he saw her grin. Was it weird that he wanted her to suck all of his blood? She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his adam’s apple.

“I’m not blind Jason,” He could die again if she said his name like that again.

“You know I don’t like it when you look at yourself like that.” She moved her hands all over his body with featherweight touches. She had a frown on her lips though she definitely didn’t seem displeased.

She brought her lips down to his, locking him in a slow kiss. Her hands slipped down his happy trail and wrapped around his cock. He tried to get the kiss deeper to make sure he wouldn’t make a sound. She pulled back from the kiss as she stroked him.

“I want to hear you. I can’t do that if you’re going to hide behind my kisses. You aren’t going to stay quiet, right? No kisses for you if I can’t hear you.”

Jason had always felt powerless against her. How could he say no when she was pouting like that? He also very much wanted her kisses.

“I won’t- I won’t stay quiet. Kisses please?”

She smiled softly as she stroked his cock a few more times.

“I can’t refuse if you ask this nicely, can I?”

She pressed bunches of small kisses all over his face, shoulders, and chest. She specifically avoided his lips; she really wanted to hear him after all. Only a few grunts and gasps could be heard from him. It wasn’t exactly what she wanted but they would get there. She was stroking him pretty fast now. He clutched the sheets as his gaze turned to the mirror again. He had a thin layer of sweat covering his body. His face was almost as red as his helmet.

He was staring at himself as he suddenly felt a sharp nick on his shoulder. He couldn’t help the moan escaping his lips as he turned back to see her. She giggled at his reaction, though she also seemed a bit nervous.

“Sorry… Too much?”

He shook his head. Nothing she could do would be too much. He starved for her, whether it’s her sight or touch. He knew he was about to finish. He thought about holding himself, not finishing until he returned the favour but she didn’t really give him a choice. Her other hand playing with one of his nipples and her lips sucking hickeys on his throat erased whatever thought he was having.

He let out a whimper, the prettiest she had ever heard, and blew his load all over her hand. He really felt his face burn in shame this time. How was he supposed to return the favour if he couldn’t hold himself at all? He opened his mouth to apologise but couldn’t find the words. How was he supposed to think if his head went empty whenever he saw her?

She suddenly grabbed his chin and turned his face to the mirror. He let out another whimper at that.

“Look at yourself. Such a beautiful boy creating a beautiful mess of himself,”

This? Beautiful? He disagreed but she kissed him before he got the chance to speak.

“I love seeing you like this,”

She was just being cruel now. He felt her fangs sink into his neck and wrapped his arms around him. When she finally pulled back, he was feeling kind of hazy.

“I just wish I could show you how pretty you really are,”

She kissed his lips.

“I guess I’ll have to fuck you until you understand instead.”

[wosoragebaiter69]

you don’t have to be perfect

barça fem x teen!reader, lucy bronze x teen!reader

request: here

A/N: also i would just like to say, if anyone has any feedback for my writing it’s greatly appreciated cuz i’m not the best writer ik that but i want to improve.

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It was apart of the contract I first signed with Barcelona that I continue my studies and finish school. Not ideal, but I get by with around 80% and sitting on a B for most my classes. What I didn’t factor in was the amount of stress I would have on top of the League and UWCL games when exams and assignments from 6 different classes were coming up. That’s hard on a 17 year old.

I felt myself start to drift away from everyone in the 2 weeks before mayhem. First it was denying to go out with the younger girls like Salma and Vicky, both of whom understood. Vicky being the same age as me and Salma only 2 years older than us. Then as expectations rose, classes became longer and filled extra information. All the time I wasn't on the pitch, I was studying. Or sleeping. (we dont talk about how even thats being cut down to maximum 5 hours a night).

Living with Lucy meant that she was bound to catch on to what was happening. It was inevitable. She took me under her wing when I first arrived along with some of the older girls and since I don’t speak Spanish natively, I was told to go with Lucy who was told to keep an eye on me. It’s nice, when you don’t want her to worry about how you’re ignoring everyone and have bags under your eyes whenever she sees you. She really does try her hardest to get me to do anything that’s not over analysing and over-studying the numerous topics, but no matter how much it pains me. I always turn her down.

After another night of studying until 2am, there’s an early morning training session and I know I’ve only gotten 4 hours of sleep. If I told the medical staff I’m sure they’d pale.

I’m aware that I probably look like death walking, but it doesn’t bother me. If I pass with above average grades, I’m happy and I know my actual parents will be too. I ignore the concerned looks that Irene and Alexia give Lucy, and get changed ready for the training session.

It’s gruelling, the lack of sleep from the past 2 weeks has finally started to catch up. When I least needed it to. Maybe I am working too hard. It’s too late for that though. I know I’m being watched by the captains, acting for a little bit longer won’t do much harm. Can it?

When the third water break rolls around, I sit on the floor and flop onto my back, closing my eyes. Too tired in the moment to do anything other than breathe. The sunshine above me dulls as Lucy and Alexia stare down at me. When I open my eyes. My captain has a raised brow, while my roommate has her arms crossed.

“Y/N, get up please. Now.” It’s Lucy who speaks first. I don’t give in. What’s their problem?

“No. I am fine where I am thank you very much.” I bite back. Lucy looks like she’s trying to hold herself together and Alexia looks furious. Unconsciously, I sink into myself hoping the ground could swallow me up.

“Nena, we won’t ask again.” The spaniard says, her voice low as she sticks out her hand.

I reluctantly take it, pulling myself up and staring at the two in front of me.

“Come.” Alexia says blankly, leaving no room for argument before walking toward the main building. I sigh, doing as she says or I know I won’t hear the end of it. Lucy trails just behind me, her jaw set and making sure I don’t run away.

When inside I’m placed on a couch, wishing and praying to any extra-terrestrial being that I can leave this confrontation. What is it even about? Why am I here? I’ve done nothing wrong.

“So, we noticed you’ve been pushing people out. You also look dead.” Classic Alexia, straight to the point.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I look away.

“Really? Because when I go to bed, which is around midnight and sometimes 1 if I’m doing other work. Your light is always on. You better fess up now before we make you do extra laps, and clear all the equipment from training.” It’s Lucy this time, starring daggers into me. Still, I don’t let up.

“Maybe I left the light on.” I shrug. “And why do we have to do this right now? I have 2 exams tomorrow. So, if I may. Let’s finish training so I can get to study and do other things.”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about Y/N. You’re deflecting absolutely everything we say. You’re not taking the information in. I get you’re stressed but that doesn’t mean you isolate yourself.” She pauses, sighing deeply. “We are going home right now. You will not touch your school work, this has gone on for long enough. I know Alexia agrees with me.”

“Before you argue, just think. Is this really the best way I could’ve prepared? Yes nail in, do the study for good results. But also remember to utilise the support system you have, the team, the coaches, take a break.” By the end of the rant I feel tears well in my eyes. I feel someone hug me and I can tell who it is by the obscurely large hands.

“Nena, go home with Lucy. Get some rest, and not only will you feel better but it gives your brain a break. When the week is over we can talk more but for now go.” The Catalan smiles warmly. I nod my head saying thanks before walking with Lucy to the car.

“Do you feel alright? You do look very pale.” She places her hands against my face and frowns. “No temperature. I’ll get some food into you and we’ll have a rest day. Just us.” I nod slowly staring out of the window as my mind races.

When we get to the apartment, no conversation is made and I immediately go and take a shower. It’s there that I cry and let all my frustrations out, the stress finally taking its toll on my mind.

When I’m dressed and ready I walk out to the smell of pancakes and Lucy sitting on the couch with Narla next to her. She hears me and turns her head around, eyebrows furrowing at the state I’m in.

She pats the open spot next to her which isn’t taken by the Westie and hands me a plate, which I accept gratefully.

It’s a comfortable silence, but I know she’s waiting for me to say anything. And this time, I do.

“I’m sorry Luce.” My voice is quiet and more high pitched compared to what it normally sounds like.

She smiles lightly.

“Hey, these things happen. You’re smart, just as Alexia said give your mind a rest and you’ll do better. Myself, Keira, the rest of the team only want the best for you and your well-being. Let’s not talk about this now, take it step by step. You’ll be ok.” I nod wiping freshly formed tears as she pulls me into a big hug, giving the rest of her pancake to Narla who eats it happily.

- - - - -

And ok it would be. I end up playing Fifa with Lucy the rest of the day before eventually falling asleep against her. As for the exams, I pass by with good grades and after everything’s done the team takes me out to a restaurant to celebrate. As much as I deny it, this team is the most important thing to me. I love and adore them all so much.

[mariel-g]

Stuck In Your Web

Switch! Miguel O’Hara x Switch Spiderwoman! Reader

Pretty much I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be dommed by Miguel or Dom him so I made it so that we could do both in one fic.

warnings: 18+, poorly translated spanish, not proofread, pure filth

Miguel should’ve been more careful; his arrogance is what led him to the position he is in now. 8 hours ago he appeared in your dimension, thinking that hunting down and subduing an amateur Spiderwoman anomaly would be an easy run of the mill task.

When you think back to the careless confidence he showed before you knocked him out, you can’t help but snicker.

Right now, his limbs are imbedded in a large spider’s web that is sustained by the four corners of a roof on a random building on Your Earth.

His wavy brown hair is dishevelled, and his suit is torn in multiple places, the tanned skin underneath flushed and shivering as another orgasm afflicts his body.

You coo from your place above him, your hand gently pumping his cock as it pulsates in your palm. It must’ve been the third time in the past hour.

“You’re such a good boy, giving me all this cum.”

He moans shamefully, his head lolling to the side as his pretty eyelashes flutter close.

You run your thumb over his cock and slit, soaking your thumb with his milk before bringing it to your mouth, revelling in the tangy sweetness of him.

“I know you’re tired baby, but just one last time,” you say as you lean over his body to roughly capture his lips with your own, allowing him to taste how good he is on your tongue.

“Por favor, no puedo mas,” he murmurs desperately.

His abs tense as you return your hand to his aching cock, lightly stroking and teasing the appendage as you press kisses on the exposed areas on his abdomen and chest.

Your eyes train on him as he groans, whimpers, and moans once again. The webs pulling tight over his arms and thighs as his muscles bunch in an attempt to escape from the overstimulation.

“It’s so cute when you try to resist Miggy, it just makes watching you fall apart more satisfying.”

He growls at the nickname, his jaws snapping at you as his fangs extend and red colours his eyes. “When will you let me free?” He snarls.

“Hm…” You tap a finger against your chin in mock contemplation. “Whenever I want to!”

You cut off his sarcastic reply by sinking your mouth down his length, enjoying the way his voice cracks into a whimper.

Slowly his hips begin to gyrate, the soft sounds of his moans and whimpers getting louder and more insistent as he fucks into your mouth.

“Yes…” He moans breathily, his hips rolling in a way that makes his waist look utterly divine. You release his cock from your mouth and crawl over him, his red puffy lips and fucked out face staring up at you from his thick lashes as his hips struggle to buck up into nothing.

“You want me to fuck you boss man? Make you my perfect sex doll?” You murmur, gently threading your fingers through his hair before tightly gripping at the soft strands. “Tell me if you want it.”

He stays silent for a few beats as his body writhes underneath you. “I want it,” he whispers.

You grin at him before dropping down on his cock, engulfing him entirely in one go. He gasps and an obscene moan tears from your throat from how deep he is. You grind on him a bit, trying to get used to his size.

“You’re already so wet,” he rasps, his back arching as you take him from root to tip. “Sucking me in so good,” he moans.

The webs start to draw blood as he struggles to grab your hips. You press down on his chest and move up and down on him faster, your moans now match his as your pelvises slam against each other, Miguel’s hips picking up a desperate pace as he fucks into you.

“Please Mami, ‘m needa cum,” he slurs, his voice heavy with his native Spanish accent and delirious from the feeling of your cunt.

“Mhm, I’ll give you what you need Miggy,” you say, leaning down to trail kisses across his jaw. You instantly realise your mistake as he cranes his neck forward, but you’re too slow to pull away as he sinks his teeth into our shoulder and lightly sucks. The venom in his blood instantly paralyses your body, causing you to slump over him as he messily claws away the web-strings clutching him to the giant web.

Inwardly you scream in frustration, sure that you’re going to be taken to HQ and locked up somewhere without even being able to experience the feeling of cumming on Miguel’s dick.

Instead, he stretched under you on the web. His hands reach up to caress the skin that he's been struggling to touch. He seems to take pleasure in the feeling of your body, groaning as he cups your breasts and grips your stomach, waist, and hips, before his hands finally cease their journey on the flesh of your ass.

“After this, I’m imprisoning you in the high security ward of HQ,” he grumbles, harshly digging his claws into your ass and spanking you as he starts to bounce you up and down his cock.

You can only moan into his neck as Miguel uses you as a fleshlight, throwing his head back and moaning into your ear as he pounds into you from underneath. His dick is in so deep, every rut of his hips causing his cock to perfectly rub against the sensitive swell in your pussy.

“Love this cunt, grips me so good – Fuck.”

He smacks your ass again and plants his feet wide as he slightly lifts and angles hips, dragging you over his length in such a way that your clit grinds against his pelvis with every thrust.

You cry out as the heat building in you unravels and an orgasm tears through you, your cunt involuntarily undulating around his dick with your orgasm.

You heave as his dick continues to ram into you, fucking you through your prolonged orgasm.

“Yes hermosa, your pussy’s milking me so good,” he groans. "Pussy so warm and perfect for me."

He wraps his thick biceps around your body and hugs you to him as he fucks you even faster, pornographic moans and whimpers spilling from his lips as he chases his own orgasm. “Fuck yes, ‘m gonna cum,” he whines, rolling your bodies over to lie on top of you without breaking the frantic rhythm of his thrusts.

Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as you take his dick. The paralysis already wore off but you’re still immobile due to the sheer weight of him crushing you into the web.

He lets out a long, drawn-out groan as you feel his sperm flood your cunt. You moan and grip onto his shoulders as his hips stutter with each spurt of cum, his orgasm rolling through him.

Eventually, he comes down from his high and sinks completely into you. He stays balls deep for a while, dick pulsating every now and then as he plugs your cum-filled pussy, refusing to let even a drop escape.

If only you could stay this full forever.

He hisses as he slowly pulls out of you. He rests his arousal on your stomach, panting as he keeps you trapped with his weight.

"You did so well mami," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You were spellbound for a second (or two), the surprising gentleness of him simultaneously comforting and reigniting a flame in you that has been long since dead. You barely restrain yourself from saying: "Another round, please."

You fervently shake away your crazy thoughts. “That was amazing and all but unfortunately, I have places to be,” you drawl, seeming to shock him from his post-orgasm haze.

“I-“

“Can you release some of the weight real quick? I kind of can’t breathe.”

He frowns but hikes up to his elbows and knees, allowing you some breathing room as he stares down at you with an emotion you cannot name. 

Refusing to dwell on the soft look in his eyes, you lunge forward and unhinge your jaw to release your fangs before jamming them in his neck. Lets settle this quickly.

You roll out from under him before the venom takes hold of his body and he collapses onto the web. As you stare at his unmoving body you think: what am I going to do with him now?

Careful to make sure no one sees you; you gently dress and wash him with clothes and a cloth you swing to your apartment half-naked to get.

After sticking him to the web again, you leave a note and swing back to your apartment, crawling into your window in the wee hours of the morning with your pussy aching and his thick cum running down your leg.

...

Miguel opens his eyes to partial darkness, the beginnings of dawn illuminating the east side of the city.

"Shit," he mutters, scrambling out of your weakened webs and dropping down to the roof. A note previously implanted in his hair floats down before him and he picks it up before unfolding it cautiously.

He stares at the barely intelligible words for long minutes before crushing them in his fists, his molars grinding together as he twists his puffy fucked out lips into a scowl.

“Lyla, place a tracker on Spiderwoman 2023 on Earth 49710.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Nice sex lips Miggy xxx , have you tried vaseline?

-Spiderwoman

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Translations (allegedly):

[Por favour, no puedo mas – Please, I can’t anymore]

[Hermosa – Gorgeous / beautiful]

[Mami – Slang for an attractive woman in this context]

Sorry about the shortness of the fic everyone, been really busy and stressed but imma try and write more. 

[sanjisprincesswifey]

love spell ⋆ sanji x reader

summary: sanji puts a spell on you

♡: female reader. 800+ words. sfw content.

sanji jumps up at the sound of the galley door opening as the lock unlatches from its hinge. he wipes the small trail of drool from his chin, shutting the cookbook he must’ve fallen asleep on.

annoyed, his eyes shoot up to the door, expecting luffy to be sneaking in for a late-night snack. sanji genuinely questions if that lock on the fridge could actually stop luffy if it came down to it.

when you poked your head into the room, scanning the area until the two of you make eye contact, sanji sighs in relief. “oh, hi y/n. what’re you doing up?”

sheepishly, you wave to him, quietly shutting the door behind you. “sorry sanji…i wasn’t expecting anyone to be up. just wanted some water to soothe my stomach, i’m not used to being on the ocean just yet,” you joke, pointing to the sink.

“ah, don’t worry. you get used to it after a while. it is your first night with us after all.” he gets up from his own seat just to tap the counter near another, “sit down, i’ll make you some tea that is sure to cure a stomachache instead.”

“that’s so sweet, but you don’t have to—” before you can even finish your sentence, he’s already reaching into a cupboard for the tea kettle. “thank you,” you resign.

“i aim to please,” he smiles, pouring in some water and grabbing the appropriate ingredients.

you glance over your shoulder to the books that cluttered the table, able to read the titles for a couple, smiling at the ones you recognize. “doing some reading?”

“hmm? oh yeah, those. saw a couple of books on your home island that i didn’t recognize so i figured i’d learn some to make you feel more at home here,” he softly admits.  

staring at his back for a minute, you blink once or twice to make sure you had clearly heard what he said. “why would you do that?” was all you managed to ask.

“i remember how difficult it was when i adjusted to being here, thought it would help you to, you know, make you feel more at home here with m—us,” he chuckles, leaving the kettle to boil and coming over to you.

he picks up one of the books, handing it to you to look through as he watches your smile grow wider after each page.

you begin folding down the corners, pointing out recipes that would go best with what meals and your own personal favorites. “in my opinion, these ones are some of the best and you’re a really good cook so i’m sure you could make them ten times better than i could,” you sheepishly admit.

“well, i don’t know about that, but maybe you could help me make them for dinner. i could use a native’s expertise,” he offers, leaning in near you to read over the lines of each page.

sanji’s shoulder is only inches apart from yours as you watch his slender fingers scan the page, mumbling the words that accompany them slightly under his breath.

there’s an unexplainable pull you feel in your chest, it’s strange but you can’t seem to make yourself look away from the man in front of you.

“these seem simple enough; though i’d love for you to join me in the kitchen tomorrow, if don’t mind, of course,” sanji smiles, turning his head ever so slightly. his movements are slow and that pull tells you to not back away, keeping little distance between your faces.

“yeah, i think i’d like that,” you breathe. your confidence seems a little high-strung now that sanji didn’t seem to back down either, the corner of his lips pulling into a sly smirk.

the high pitch tone of the kettle drags you both away, much to sanji’s disgruntlement. you watch the boiling water pour into both his and your cup and the delicate aroma of your beverage overtakes you as you enjoy a sip.

“i’ve never had tea this good before,” you compliment, which sanji accepts with a smile. looking over the ingredients on the counter, you notice a few that you recognized.

a quiet gasp leaves your lips when you remembered those particular ingredients are in a certain love spell tea that circulated around your home island. noticing the nearly half-empty glass in your hand, you can’t help but giggle.

“thank you sanji, i think i’ll be heading to bed now.”

his face falters a bit and so does yours, but you make your way to the door with your cup in hand anyway. you hesitate when you reach for the doorknob, and when you cautiously look back, sanji had already been staring back at you with a satisfied look in his eye.

when you exit, sanji stares at the door just a little bit longer with a goofy smile on his face. he walks over to the table, flipping the pages and reading over the instructions for the tea he had just made you from the page he was drooling on earlier.

like, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! (✿◠‿◠)

[bunny-extract]

Y’all I got pregnant just off seeing that man’s bulge. Whose fucking horse,,, and can I borrow him.

[Smut Drabble of König accidentally coming inside of you <3 Enjoy]

König x reader

Tags: Smut, breeding kink, praise kink, loss of control. Consensual abrupt creampies my new fav phrase

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI

You always know when König is close: his strokes become unsteady, his voice cracks, the look of tentative euphoria he has when he first sinks in devolves into a thirsty, splitting need. He’s handsy, that’s for sure, but when he’s about to come it’s like he can’t touch enough of you. He’s squeezing your hips, circling your waist, pawing at your breasts, your lips.

It’s when he starts to get loud that you know he’s there. Fuck, he is loud. Desperately vocalizing against the building pressure of his own need, suffocating on it until he’s high off the asphyxiation. Mixing languages and presenting them backwards, his dirty talk coming at times like mistranslated ad-libs. The clumsily strung pleas and commands catch you off guard, their crudeness making you whine.

It’s erotic, frenzied, and from the angle he’s got you at he knocks your clit and that squishy g-spot simultaneously. You’ve lost count how many orgasms he’s pulled, but you’re sure he hasn’t. Keeps score like he’s got money riding on it.

“That’s it, more—more, you can take it. Feels so good, you feel incredible—”

“Close,” you announce, and he’s lost, muttering too quickly in a mix of his native tongue for you to even hope to decipher it. All you can do is fuck him back, tightening around him as his hips snap into you. Once, twice, and his strokes are slicker, impossibly wetter and—he pulls out suddenly, come splashing right against your clit. That alone almost does you in, but the slurring breath König takes sobers you.

“I am sorry Liebling, I tried to stop it—you felt too good. Please, forgive me, please,” he moans, even as his hips continue to rut against you. You look down to see the hair trailing his navel plastered against his tightened abdomen, fat cock soaked and pearly with the two of you.

Still hard, even after all that he’s spent on you. Inside of you.

You reach down and grip him, angling the plush, wet head to rub right against your clit. His over-sensitive whines spur you on, he felt too good to let go of even as you clenched indecently around nothing. The semen he’d spilled helped make messy but quick work of your clit, and you come while he’s still babbling an apology.

You push the head down, lower and lower until it notches back into place, right inside of you. König’s eyes find yours, mutterings finally silenced.

“Again,” you tell him, but he’s searching, sure that he heard you wrong, even if his body understood. His heavy balls pat against your ass when he raps, “What? But—”

You push your arms over your head in a stretch, your breasts arching up to tease your nipples against the scruff on his chin. You want him to put his mouth back on you. He does too, but the hand that rubs the space below your navel makes his concern clear. You tilt your head at him. “But what? What if it takes?”

And just the words being out in the open has him reeling. His eyes snap back to yours, wide, caught. You meet him with a smile, pressing his hand down lower, firmer until it’s over the bump where his cock bulges from within you. “Isn’t that what you want?”

And it’s deserved, really, when König rips himself out of you just long enough to toss you onto your stomach, hips dug into the bed when he re-enters you in a swift, embarrassingly loud stroke. He pumps you twice before letting his weight sink him lower, deeper into you.

“Fräulein, you have no idea what-I—want.”

The moans that he punches out of you are obscene, and you’re thankful you can smother them in the mattress. König rarely takes you from behind, always wanting to look at you. Was obsessed with your expression, the bounce of your breast, the view of him bulging your stomach, but flat on your front like this his cock kisses the very end of your cunt and threatening to fuck you right to your womb. It’s the deepest he’s ever been, the tip of him feeling like it would reach your throat if he kept pushing it in. Every slap of his hips has your ass shaking in response, and all you can do is let him bludgeon your little cunt, head shaking as he grabbed your shoulder for better leverage. “I’ve worn the shape of my cock into you, Liebling. It feels so good. I can feel your guts when I’m this deep.”

He’s bent over you, one hand gripping the head board hard enough that his tanned knuckles blanch white, the other lifting your face from where you’d burrowed it. You’re drooling, eyes unfocused until you look up and, oh lovely. It’s his black-smudged eyes that meet you, upside down. His face splits in an almost frightening smile. Now he can fuck you stupid and watch.

König meets every moan from you with the slap of his heavy balls to your clit, his head coming down to rest against your shoulder. The briefest prickle of stubble when he leaves open-mouthed kisses across your neck. It has you tightening, fingers twisting around the hand he’s used to prop himself up on. You can feel him smile against your pulse, the only warning before he bites into it.

When he pulls back you can feel his spit warm at your neck, the tender start of a bruise blooming beneath it. He’s snaked his arms around you in a gentle headlock, squeezing once just to laugh and let go. Another time, he promises. You’re buzzing, and that’s before his other hand takes one of yours, guiding it beneath your stomach to frame his cock. It’s hard to wrap your head around how big it is, how it disappears inside of you.

“Play with yourself. I want to feel it,” he urges, puppeteering your fingers with his own to roll your clit. You take over, but his hand stays, ghosting along with you.

“That’s it. I want to see you fat with my child, your little body taken with me. I’ll sow my seed until it’s deep, Liebling. Are you sure you want me to? Tell me that, please.”

You’re cock drunk, absolutely ruined off of this man. Not even sure what you’re sobbing out until it reaches your ears: desperate, pathetic little cries of fill me, fill me, fill me.

His thrusts are sloppy but no less targeted, the head of his cock grinding too perfectly into your squishy g-spot and sending you halfway off the edge. You’re spasming around him, the wet clutch you have around his cock outright crude, and he laughs, muttering almost to himself, “Messy girl, you always make such a mess.”

He’s pulling apart your cheeks, getting his fill of the sight of you speared on his cock.

“How are you still hard,” you whine, aftershocks wracking you. He can feel them, you’re sure.

König slurs against your neck, almost laughing. His hips snap back down into you, and your pussy welcomes him home.

It’s hours and hours later, when you’d been fucked half to sleep, sated and full with König resting inside of him. He’s spent, but the more come that leaks out, the more he has to put back in. When his hips shift, you don’t even stir.

Quietly, he whispers into the outline of his teeth pressed to your shoulder. “Your little quim can take more, Liebling. I’ll fuck you until you are full with a whole litter.”

You won’t tell him you heard that. Maybe you’ll just repeat it to him, instead.

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: Non-con. Dub-con. Somnophilia. Violence. Threats. Aemond being Aemond.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Masterlist

Note: Goodness me. Thank you all so much for the love and support! Make yourself a cup of tea and settle in because this is a long chapter.

Chapter 19: Dragon Dreamer

You bobbed in the waves of your sleep, rising up to the consciousness of the room, only to sink down into the depths of your dream once again, the soft sheets cool on your hot skin.

You dreamt of Dorne, their exotic spices and fruits, the sweetness of their spiced wines as your hands reached out to grasp at a star shaped fruit. You softly tearing your fingers into it, letting the juice run down your arms warmly.

You felt the wetness of the fruit down your neck and your stomach. Warmth spreading through you as every drop of its sweet nectar melted on your tongue and dripped stickily from your skin.

Your dream faded around you as you were roused, the room in your vision swimming. Wine still strong in your veins as you groggily fell back into your dream. 

Teeth buried into the flesh of the fruit, chewing it softly. The wetness of the nectar trailed down on your neck and breasts, and further down between your legs.

You groan and wiggle, feeling yourself dizzy with your dream and the swaying of your consciousness. 

A deep voice coaxes you gently, “Shh.”

The heat in your belly morphed in your dreams to something more passionate. You stood with a Dornish man, his dark tanned skin shining in the light of a fire, golden eyes dancing with the flames.

His large hand reached for you, slender fingers caressing you gently, praising you in his native tongue, as it curls around you softly, your dress melting away from you. 

The man speaks, voice deep and smooth, “You are a gift from the Gods, Princess.” 

His lips kissed the inside of your wrists, licking away the sticky nectar from the fruits that had gathered there. Your body is pulled tight against him, chasing the pleasure he brings you, hips pushing forward. 

“More.” You whispered, as you rise from the foggy depths into your room, a weight settled on your lower body. 

A wet warmth laps at your core.

You moan pushing your hips upwards, feeling resistance as a hum returns in response, vibrating up your body. Your eyes feel heavy, the dream ebbing and flowing as the coil in your stomach grew tighter and tighter. 

You mewl as your dream-like state clouded your mind as you clutched onto the sheets tightly as the wet stroked continue against your clit. Your eyes cracked open in the darkened room, a shadow lay on the bed at your centre.

Pleasure rippled up your body as the shadows head licks and suckled at you gently, a finger prodding against your entrance gently as it brings you pleasure.

Whining, you reach your hand to touch the head between your sensitive thighs, gripping a soft head of hair. The dream man in your bed continued to lap at your cunt, the coil inside you curling tighter and tighter.

The shadows lips suck onto your centre pushing you over the edge as a slender finger enters inside you, pushing upwards onto a soft spongey spot inside of you, prolonging your pleasure.

You curl your fist into the soft locks, tugging it tightly as the wave of pleasure rippled through you. Your writhe on the bed sluggishly as the finger continued to stroke you through your release, the shadow licking softly at the slick your body released.

A hum rumbles through your body as the shadow begins to lick at you faster, your eyes shutting tightly as you mewl once more. 

“You taste so sweet, Zaldrītsos.” The voice cooed.

Your body shot up from the bed. Light streaming through the open windows of your room. Your eyes darted about the room in search of the whispering voice.

The room was empty.

Ripping your sheets back, you looked between your legs.

No shadowy mass to be seen, only the remnants of your sensual dream. You touch between your thighs tentatively, finding your flesh tender and wetness gathered at your centre.

You huffed out a laugh, regretting it almost instantly, a sharp dull pain sitting in your head. It was not the first time you had such a dream.

Reaching an arm out to the side you swipe up your water glass and drink greedily, begging the water to take the headache away which was steadily growing stronger.

The cold water slid down your throat and settled in your stomach. Hydrating your dry mouth and sating some of the hungover nausea that had begun to build inside you.

Three soft raps were heard at the door, the sound jarring the pebble in your brain. You reach forward and snatch the sheet, pulling it up against your naked form before calling out. 

“Come in.” Your voice cracked and you winced at the volume.

The door opened gently revealing two heads of brown as they walked through your door. Your brothers entered your chambers dressed and ready for the day, although the eldest looked a little worn from the night's celebrations. 

“Good morning sister!” Lucerys chirped, a smug smile on his face.

You winced as the sound scraped against your skull.Groaning, you flopped back into your bed, pulling the sheets over your head.

Laughter filled the room, the sound making you feel all the more nauseous with the rattling of the stone behind your eyes. 

“I feel like death.” You groaned, peeking your head out at the both of them, eyes squinted from the bright light.

“You look worse.” Jace remarks, teasing you.

“Oh, fuck off.” You growl.

You grabbed a pillow and threw it, albeit pitifully, across the room having it only land just at the end of your bed.

You whined. 

Your brother's laughter grew louder. 

“Leave me be.” You grumble, feeling the bed dip as Lucerys seated himself on the end. 

“Come eat,” He giggled, “It will make you feel better.”

Your stomach recoiled at the thought of food. 

“Please don’t talk about food right now.” You groan.

Lucerys cherubic face smiled at you gently, rosy cheeks high on his face in delight.

“You need to get dressed and eat with us, mother has requested it.” His hand grabbed your leg, shaking you gently in the bed.

“Go away.” You whine again. You look at Jacaerys who laughed loudly into the room, only for his face to grimace at his own volume. 

“You are grumpier than the old Maester.” He mocks.

“Fuck you,” You curse, “You look like the old cunt.” You quip back. 

Jacaerys chuckled.

“I’ve told your maids to come get you dressed.” 

Jacaerys moves across the room, looking out of your balcony doors at the sea before he rips the unclosed curtains open roughly, sending a bright light to stream onto your face. 

You squeeze your eyes shut as the light burns your eyes, the pounding in your skull becoming worse. You curse and feel your stomach clench and the sudden urge to be sick.

“You’re such a cunt Jace.” You growl, rolling onto your stomach pulling the pillow over your head.

“I wonder where I got it from.” He mocked, voice suddenly louder before he rips the pillow away, ruffling your hair. 

Another knock at the door causes you to groan, rubbing at your eyes to ease the pain in your skull. A rough hand comes to slap at your shoulder.

“Get dressed and come eat. Mother wants us all together again.” Jace speaks in finality before leaving the room with Luce.

Saria and Aella walk in silently to get you ready.

Aella quietly came to your bed as you scooted up against the pillows, leaning your back against the large wooden frame of the bed. She filled your water cup and handed it back to you.

You grasp the glass, muttering a small thank you, before downing the drink swiftly, feeling the cool liquid settle in your stomach.  

You groan again, “I feel like I am dying.”

“You’re not dying, Princess.” Aella responds, filling the glass once more, placing it on the table next to you, “You will feel much better once you have eaten.”

Leaning your head into your hands you lazily rub at your face, yawning deeply. 

“Perhaps you should not have had that late wine, My Lady.” Saria spoke, gently teasing you.

“Ugh, not you too.” You groaned before shifting your body to the edge of the bed, legs dangling off the side as you slumped forward. 

Aella held your under garment for you, gently easing the chemise over your head, threading your arms through the holes. You sighed, before pushing yourself up off of the bed, head spinning as you did.

Aella’s hands came forward to grasp your arms to steady you.

You groan, gaining your balance before shuffling over to the centre of the room, where Saria and Aella dressed you quickly, yet lovingly gentle. 

Another black gown. 

You sat and had your face washed gently with a fluffy cloth before having your hair brushed and braided, life coming back to your face slowly. Aella and Saria kept the conversation to a minimum to save your pounding head. 

“You will be eating with the Queen. Your mother has asked us to prepare you for your departure back to Dragonstone.” Saria spoke, as she lopped a golden chain around your neck. 

“We leave today?” You asked, looking over your shoulder.

“I am unsure yet, My Lady, but she has asked us to be ready.” She explained. 

You nodded, head aching as it moved. You knew you would be leaving King's Landing to go back home, but you did not expect it to be so soon. Though, you knew your father was eager to leave the presence of the Hightower’s, especially The Kings Hand, Otto. 

You walked sluggishly to the large double doors, feeling heavy in your shoes. The corridors felt longer than usual, and the pounding behind your eyes got worse with every step. You were thankful that today's gown was soft on your sensitive skin, though with each step you felt a tender ache between your legs. 

When you arrived, your family was seated, chattering amongst themselves as they waited for the Greens to arrive. Your fathers eyes caught your form, a loud giggle escaping his lips. Your mother next to him smiled at you in pity whilst your brothers grinned. 

“Leave it, all of you.” You groaned as you sat heavy in your seat, “I don’t want to hear a word.” You threatened, leaning your head onto your hand. 

“Some more wine may help.” Your father cheekily suggested. Your stomach clenched as you fought the urge to gag. 

“I don’t want to even look at another goblet.” You whined, clutching your head.

“You will feel better once you eat, my sweet.” Your mothers soothing voice flowed across the table gently, instantly making you feel better.

You reached forward and filled yourself a glass of water, sipping at the cool liquid slowly to calm your stomach. 

“Are we leaving today?” You asked, looking at your mother who sat higher in her seat. She looked uncertain as she fidgeted with the long black sleeve of her gown.

“Yes, we must return to Dragonstone. I fear we may overstay our welcome.” Rhaenyra spoke quietly, looking to your two brothers.

“But this is our home too.” Lucerys spoke, disappointed. 

“It was,” She breathed, “once.” A pause, “Our place for now is at Dragonstone. We got word from Princess Rhaenys that Lord Corlys is gravely unwell. We must return home, and offer support to Driftmark at this time.” 

Lucerys face went pale. This was not news he had ever wished to hear. His anxiety of becoming Lord of Driftmark seemingly amplified with the news of his Grandsire's wellbeing. 

“He will be okay Luc, Grandsire is strong.” You console him, giving him a small smile. 

“I for one, am eager to leave. I cannot spend another day here in the presence of another Green cunt.” The Rogue Prince purred, twirling a glass around in his hand. 

You snorted out a laugh, regretting it instantly, the pressure pulsing behind your eyes. Your mother gives him a warning glare. Her mouth readies to open again before swiftly shutting as the doors to the room open revealing the Hightower Queen, as usual dressed in a deep green gown.

Behind her trailed your aunt Helaena, in a peach coloured dress with Aemond beside her in his usual black leather. The drunken Prince however, was nowhere to be seen. 

Walking to their seats, Queen Alicent spoke, looking at your mother. 

“Please excuse our tardiness, Princess.”

Your mother gave a gentle smile, “There is nothing to apologise for, Your Grace. Will the King be joining us this morning?”

A frown formed on the Queen's face, “I am afraid the King is too ill to join us this morning, though he does send his love to you all.”

“And how does he do that?” Your fathers voice whips across the table, “With blinks and wheezes?” He spat bitterly. 

Alicent’s lips turn downwards in the corners as she stares at your father, an awkward tension spreading across the room.

“Will Prince Aegon be joining us for breakfast, Your Grace?” You ask, diverting from your fathers comment.

Alicent’s face relaxes slightly as she turns to look at you, “Prince Aegon is resting in his chambers this morning. I am afraid he has fallen ill and will not be able to join us.” She explained, covering for his, no doubt, drunken reasons. 

“We hope he recovers quickly then.” Your mother spoke, as food began to be placed upon the table for you.

More fruits and meats, pastries of all types and breads that steamed in the light fresh from the ovens were placed on the table. You were going to miss these breads and though the bread on Dragonstone was good, it just was not the same.

“Thank you, Princess.” Alicent breathed.

The smells of the food made your stomach do flips. You did not know if you could eat, though the urge was there. As you were all moving to serve yourselves, Alicent uttered a, thankfully, quick prayer.

Looking across the table whilst Alicent thanked the Seven, you turned your gaze to Helaena.

Your aunt sat opposite you, looking glum despite the celebrations of the evening before. Her pale hands were on the table, fiddling gently with each other so as to not draw attention.

As the rest of the table served themselves and ate mostly in silence, you watched as Helaena did not reach to serve herself, nor raise her gaze to you. 

“Are you feeling well this morning, Princess Helaena?” You directed your voice across the table to her.

Her eyes fluttered up to your face, seemingly breaking her from her trance as a grimace-like smile appeared. 

“Yes,” She spoke awkwardly, looking at her mother skittishly, before back down at her hands.

“Just tired.” 

Her reply was short and although Helaena could be shy and socially stiff, this was a new behaviour you had not witnessed before. It was unusual.

There was a tension between the Greens that was almost palpable, more so now that you had drawn attention to the Princess. You watched her closely as she made no move to continue the conversation with you. 

It was warm that morning, and Helaena’s sleeves on her dress were long, and the neck high. Her usual relaxed attire, now seemingly strict. You felt the sudden need to ask her what was wrong later away from the prying eyes of the table.

You reached an arm forward to put some fresh bread on your plate. Slowly tearing away sections to nibble on in the hopes to settle your stomach.

“We will be returning to Dragonstone this evening.” Your mothers voice sliced through the silence. It was awkward as it abruptly cut across the silent table.

Alicent reached out to grab your mothers arm, thumb smoothing over the material of the sleeve, “So soon? But you’ve only just got here?” Her voice was laced with disappointment. 

Your mother looked at the hand that was grasping her and looked back up at the Queen who sat beside her,.

“I will return..." She paused in thought, "Shortly on Dragon’s back, once the children are home.”

The Queen's hands gently continued to stroke Rhaenyra’s arm, who smiled softly back, “The King and I would like that very much.”

Alicent’s gaze then turned to you. 

“You should join your mother as well. I’m sure you and Helaena have lots to talk about.” Her gaze was soft, whilst Helaena seemed to stiffen in her seat further, lips moving gently as she mumbled to herself.

Alicent turned back to your mother as they spoke gently to one another, your brothers starting a conversation between themselves, whilst your father watched Alicent's hand in disgust.

“Did you sleep well, Princess?” Aemonds voice came so quietly that almost no one seemed to hear it. The large table assisted in his low tone.

“Like a babe, uncle.” You replied. “And what of you?” 

“Restless from the celebrations it seemed. Though I eventually found a soft place to lay my head.” A smirk lay on his plush lips.

You furrowed your brows momentarily, before smiling. “I’m glad you found rest. We wouldn’t want you to miss our farewell.”

“Hmm.” 

You continued to pick at the bread, listening to your brother's chatter as your uncle watched you carefully. His slender fingers slid forward to reach across the table to grasp a large yellow star fruit in front of you, before pulling it back to his plate.

The One-Eyed Prince turned the fruit over in his hand delicately, inspecting the skin for any imperfections before his other hand came to hold it.

You watched Aemond as he slowly pulled the fruit apart, tendons in his hands flexing with each movement, veins sitting delicately atop his pale skin. He tore the fruit in half completely, watching the nectar drip onto the silver plate below.

His eye came to gaze at you as two of his fingers dipped obscenely into the hole he had created. You straightened in your seat, staring intently as he brought his fingers up to his mouth to lick, pink tongue coming out to meet his fingers before he sucked on them crudely. 

Your body felt hot, a blush crawling up your neck as you watched him pull his wet digits from his mouth. A low hum came from his chest.

You felt yourself growing flustered, warmth spreading throughout your body as he reached to delicately grasp the yellow fruit once more, tearing a small piece away before bringing it up to his mouth to chew. 

“I can see now why you are so fond of these fruits, niece.” He swallowed, watching you as he tore another piece off, sliding it into his mouth, one eye closing as he went. 

“The nectar is sweet, though not quite as sweet as you.” He purred.

Heat covered your cheeks, and you felt the skin of the back of your neck begin to prickle. Mouth suddenly dry, you reached forward to sip from your glass, observing him above the rim eating the fruit.

You slid your eyes across the table, no one else was watching the interaction, and your aunt seemed to not be mentally present. 

“It’s a shame you don’t have them often like we do.” You gloated, smirking back at him dangerously.

“A shame.” He parroted, licking his fingers lewdly, his one eye locked onto yours, “Once you leave, I will no longer have access to something so sweet.” 

His tongue darted out to lick at his lips.

You cleared your throat, legs clenching under the table. Memories of your dream flickering in your mind, making you squirm in your seat at the unexpected arousal you felt watching him eat.

Looking away in embarrassment, you gazed across the table again. Your fathers eyes locked onto you and your uncle, watching curiously. Turning your head away sharply, you looked to your aunt again, who seemed to be further hunched over in her seat.

“Would you like to go for a walk with me before we leave, aunt Helaena?” You asked gently, her eyes not leaving her hands.

She did not respond, lips still moving as she quietly murmured to herself. 

“Aunt Helaena?” You gently called, careful to not rouse the attention of the table.

Aemond watched you as you attempted to grab the Princess' attention. Suddenly his long arm reached sideways, as he leant his body towards his sister. A gentle hand clasped over hers, his face coming closer as she still did not move.

He twisted himself slowly to gently whisper in her ear. You were shocked. You had not witnessed Aemond be so soft, at least not since he was a child.

You felt as though you had witnessed a sliver of the young boy you grew up with.

Helaena breathed deeply, blinking gently before looking at you. She nodded before looking to Aemond, who gave her a soft smile. Your breath was caught in your throat, and you yearned to see him smile like that again.

What is wrong with me?

His hand gently squeezed hers before he sat straight in his chair once more, pretending as if nothing happened, before picking up the last piece of fruit before placing it in his mouth to chew, looking straight ahead.

The meal ended shortly after and Alicent and your mother opted to stay seated whilst you were all excused. Your father refused to leave, and sit still in his chair to listen to them both talk. And although every attempt Alicent made to include him was ignored, the Rogue Prince stared blankly at her instead.

Your brothers gently bowed as they announced their departure, opting to go collect their betrothed to prepare for their leave.

You watched as they left, sitting softly as you listened to your mother speak gently to the woman she once was close to. It felt almost wrong to be watching, and you knew that you should also take leave.

You stood and thanked the Queen for her hospitality. Before you left, you gazed at Helaena still sat in her seat, hands still folded together, having not eaten a thing.

You went to reach for her but Aemond stood sharply, your hand retracting back to hold the other behind you. 

“Niece.” Aemond purred, watching you down his sharp nose.

You turned to look at Helaena, “I will meet you at the Godswood aunt, and we can walk to the Gardens together.” 

You waited for a response, for her to look up at you, for even a subtle nod to know that she heard you, but none came. You waited a few seconds more, Aemond watching you sharply, before you turned, walking out of the room, gently bowing to your mother and Queen Alicent, who did not break away from their whispers. 

As you walked, you thought of your return home. What is to come from this? Will your mother and the Queen’s relationship be mended? Will you be spending more time at the Red Keep in the future? Perhaps even move back to what you called home?

Lost in your thoughts you found yourself suddenly in front of the Godswood.

Your hand reached out to touch the trunk, skimming softly against it, savouring the rough texture beneath your fingers knowing it may be some time before you can return. The leaves above rustled with the soft breeze. The light from the sun peeked through the gaps, blanketing you in warmth.

Turning to your favourite spot, you sank down in the roots, sitting comfortably with your back against the trunk of the tree, lifting your head up to look once more at the leaves swaying gently in the breeze. You whispered to the Godswood, talking of nothing and everything you thought of as you waited.

A low groan was heard to the side of you, in one of the open corridors interrupting your whispers. Searching for the sound, you spotted the wild white hair of your eldest uncle as he stumbled through the hallways of the Red Keep.

It took everything within you to not laugh aloud, as you watched him catch his body on the side of the wall, hand desperately flailing to grasp at the stone to hold himself up before leaning forward to vomit.

Your nose scrunched at the sight.

Aegon seemed to be getting worse everyday, stumbling about drunkenly without a single thought behind his stupid eyes. You often wondered what it would be like to be him in such a state. 

You watched him stumble forth in search of his chambers, your hand raised up to your lips to hide your smile. Heavy footsteps echoed in the corridor behind the eldest Prince.

Long white hair broke forth in your vision as your one-eyed uncle stormed after Aegon, hissing in High Valyrian at him as he walked. A burst of laughter escaped your lips as you watched the pair begin to bicker. 

Aemonds eye snapped to the sound of your mirth, lips forming into a firm line as he spotted your figure by the tree. He leant sharply to Aegon, whispering into his ear, before pushing him roughly forward.

Aegon almost fell from the force of the shove, his balance shifting faster than his inebriated body could compensate. Aemond’s attention then turned to you as his lithe body twisted, walking sharply over to you before stopping at your feet. 

You dropped your hand from your face, allowing Aemond to see your smile, “It's good to see that Prince Aegon is looking,” You paused, purposefully looking for a word, gazing back over Aemonds shoulder to the empty archway his brother passed through, “lively.” 

You smirked looking up to the One-Eyed Prince, his cheek twitching. A short hum came in response as he watched you, waiting for you to say something else. 

“I’m sure you will be lonely once we have left, uncle,” You smiled, “You will have only your brother to stalk about the Red Keep.”

“Hmm.” He leered at you, “As I’m sure you will be lonely. There will be no-one to warm your chambers back on Dragonstone.”

“Warm my chambers?” You inquired, feeling heat in your chest.

Aemond looked delighted at your inquiry. 

“Ah,” You exclaim, “I suppose you mean the rat problem. Could swear there have been unwanted pests in my chambers as of late.”

“The only pests in the Red Keep are you and your bastard brothers.” He drawled.

“Now, Now.” You tutted, not reacting to his treasonous insult, “Play nicely Aemond. Very soon you will have no-one to play with at all. I will be gone, and you will have no-one but your brother to torment, or perhaps the rats you have so much in common with.” You purred, egging him on. 

“Bona narys.” (That poison.) He looked down at you, holding his hands behind his back. His scent floated around you, sandalwood, leather and musk. “How you have hid it well. I see you have found your tongue now that you are to leave.”

“As much as I have enjoyed playing these games with you, dear uncle,” You hummed, “I am a Princess and the eldest of the Heir to the Iron Throne. I uphold my duty and my decorum.” 

Looking him up and down you continued, “You on the other hand I'm afraid, are nothing but a second son. Your place in court holds no power. I will inherit Dragonstone, my brothers the Iron Throne and Driftmark. You will inherit nothing.” 

You continued on, smile growing wider.

“Except perhaps the duty to care for your drunken brother. I have not told my mother or father what you have done, but once my mother ascends the Iron Throne I promise you, I will have you stripped of your title and banished,” You smile widely at him, “and that will be a mercy.”

You watched as his face grew angrier, eye narrowing, but just as quick as the anger came, it went.

He stepped forward again, crouching in front of you, holding his hands tightly in front of him as his lips slithered into a soft smile. 

“Tell me y/n, do you always dream of such devious things?” His tone light, teeth showing in his smile.

Your heart began to pound in your chest, smile faltering as you stared into his lone eye. His posture straightened, tutting you gently as he still crouched in front of you.

He knew he had you.

“Such things should never be thought of from a Princess.” His mock concern on his face made the scars on your feet itch. “Though I will say, you make such delightful noises,” A long hum came from deep in his chest, exhaling through his nose.

“How could one resist? Especially a second son?” Aemond huffed a laugh, watching your mouth dropped open as realisation crawled up your spine. You breathed heavily.

“You even reached for me. I gave you the release you were begging for.”

Your hands clenched into fists, teeth grinding together as anger rippled through you.

He watched as you readied to strike him, “Fear not,” He assured you, a sickening grin on his face, “You still have your maidenhood.”

“I will kill you.” You hissed.

“Now, now.” He mimicked, “Play nicely Zaldrītsos, very soon you will have no-one to play with.” He mocked with delight.

A servant walked through the open space, bowing her head to you both as she passed along the grass to the other side of the courtyard, before disappearing through a passageway.

“Nyke gōntan daor pirtir skori vestan īlē dōna,” (I did not lie when I said you were sweet,) He purred, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip, “īlē paktot skori vestā kesan bōsa syt ao.” (You were right when you said I will long for you.)

“What will your mother say when I tell her what you have done?” You hissed, body shaking in anger as you leant forward towards him.

“Do you truly think that my mother would believe you? That anyone would?” He hummed, “No. They would believe that you are your mothers daughter, seeking intimacy from your uncle. As I remember, you enjoyed yourself.”

Your hand snapped across his face, your palm stinging.

“Choose your next words wisely.” You growled, legs tucking underneath your body as you readied yourself to pounce.

He smiled, slowly stretching up to his full height, looking down his nose at you.

“Safe travels.”

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