#something stinks p u!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
my honest reaction
#south park#fanart#kyle broflovski#south park fanart#real#something stinks p u!#satire#THIS IS NOT A GENERALIZATION#DON’T BE DENSE#sorry for the last post I was going through one of those moments I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon dw
63 notes
·
View notes
Text
"why's it gotta happen at all? why can't the two people in the relationship wait on it to happen." lucy gray wonders, not realizing she sounds a little naive on how strong emotions work and how compatibility is important to most people. to her, when she thinks about it, if she really finds herself smitten for someone... it won't bother her how they work in a bedroom. eyes trailing off... well, she doesn't think. that wouldn't matter? right? or would it? a world of confusion blinds her trying to decide. "i do think they abuse god's word. take his word and use it to their awful advantage. but this isn't about those perverts. this is about how men are supposed to wait too, not just the girls of the human race. this is about how some people just find it more special, not rushin' into things. to some... it just sounds more special and beautiful to promise each other to love each other for life before sharin' their bodies. since that seems to be god's opinion." she points out. "what do you mean a good time?" she felt like she might puke her cheeks were burning so viciously, "a good time's watching a band play or going to a party. sharin' yourself with someone is much more serious than that. you just can't trust people like that, be so reckless. unless it just doesn't bother you i guess. but personally, for me, i have to know i can really trust them and that they really mean it when they say they love me." she definitely takes it serious, it's not just something to do recklessly for a good time in her mind. she'd feel like she'd been violated, if she decided to love someone and they left her. let alone expose herself and let them have her in such a vulnerable way. it's a terrible disgusting feeling thinking of it... there might be something wrong with her, she thinks. since apparently it didn't play on everybody's mind like that, like it did hers. "well, it starts with babies primarily. then the other thing secondly. both still are reserved for after marriage, though."
"okay, well that's true. but if you really won't hurt me then we can compete by bein' the best of friends. we'll make the horses and rabbits so jealous, they'll wanna be us." she decides with a giddy smile, since that's what she wanted and still wants to be reassured of... that he won't hurt her. and being told that, well that just strikes a nerve. even if he ends up not even meaning it... being told she won't be hurt by someone made her heart pang before causing emotions to well in the barrels of her honey eyes. she wasn't crying yet, but something of the way he said it made her eyes prick with tears. "gosh, that oil definitely leaves an itchy smell." blaming the oil and cloth being so close to her eyes, she thinks that could be a reasonable excuse in case it looks noticeable that lucy gray now worries about. then he puts the cloth down and closes his eyes which helps. the brunette stays quiet, smearing in lotion with both hands, rubbing it into both of his cheeks softly and then over his chin and forehead– brushing these dark little locks away so the lotion doesn't stick to his fresh clean hair. "i can't help but think you're a little crazy, thinkin' someone got me all in a matter of a minute or two?" she didn't know what he had to be paranoid like that before, because she's never lived a day in his shoes. "but..." as much as that CONFUSED her, brows knitting, "it's sweet. so thank you, for comin' to my rescue." she sheepishly laughed as features softened, truly not understanding his level of paranoia like that. but appreciative. smoothing lotion down his neck with little pats then taking his left hand, rubbing in a small spots of lotion into his skin there too then picking up his right hand, doing the same again. "both are good wishes," she corrects gently, wellbeing of her loved ones and these little things like a picnic and a necklace. "well, maude ivory usually makes it a fun day for me. it used to be my mama, but now it's maude ivory who usually brings me over a pastry and we go to the lake to play all day."
“i’m not sayin’ it should happen with just anyone,” the dark-haired man counters, a small, amused smile dancing on his lips as he thoroughly enjoys their insightful conversation. jesse has once told him that women aren’t good for many things, especially not for substantive disputes, which billy, of course, wholeheartedly disagrees with. he wishes the other man could hear them now, see how intelligent lucy gray is and choke on those words. “but if it happens with the right person before marriage, why would it make anyone feel insecure?” he wonders out loud, eager to hear what else is on her mind when it comes to this subject. alice had a very different approach, taught him life’s too short to turn down small pleasures. “don’t you think it might have something to do with how men are inherently possessive and controlling, and so they feed young girls these ideas of purity to have more power over them?” he raises an eyebrow, doubting it has anything to do with proving they aren’t being used for their bodies. “quite the opposite, actually… i do think marriage is beautiful and special,” and he’d like to be lucky enough to find someone to share this experience with one day, “but i don’t believe refraining from havin’ a good time makes this union more sacred.” after all, how are two people supposed to know they belong together for an eternity without making love beforehand? “maybe it was originally designed for both?” pleasure and babies. though, now that he thinks about it, he doubts other species make love for pleasure… or do they? he doesn’t want to dwell on it and risk blushing furiously again.
“lucky them. how can one not be jealous of a bond so special?” he muses with a soft laugh, wrinkling his nose as her fingertips, coated in the cool lotion, land on his warm cheek. “lucy gray,” he briefly closes his eyes, staying as still as possible and letting her work miracles on his sun-burned skin. god, does it feel amazing, even if it tickles a bit, “i hope you know i’d never hurt you, not purposely. i’m not that kind of man. and i’ll always help you out.” however he can, whether it’s with chores or by offering words of reassurance or by comforting her. he’s somewhat relieved to hear her excuse his behavior and so he offers her another smile, sensing she’s not one to hold grudges. “you don’t know why i was holdin’ that lamp?” he repeats, his ocean hues staring at her once more. “many things can happen. i mean, it’s just the two of us in this house, right?” does the preacher leave her all alone like this often? what if someone knows that? what if someone’s been watching the house for a while and saw her father leave? men can be vile and evil, capable of indescribable things. “and i kept calling your name, but you weren’t responding. i assumed something terrible must have happened to you, thought someone must have broken in and grabbed you, and i forgot about that gun under your pillow and well… i’d been meaning to use that lamp as a weapon.” against that imaginary captor of hers. his features flush all at once. he feels silly elaborating on his paranoia now, but thinks he owes her a detailed explanation. “now that’s a nice wish.” a necklace or a picnic. he’ll find a way to give her both. “how do you usually celebrate your birthday?” he inquires, lowering the towel once there’s no more smudges on her face.
#SHHH THAT RUINS ME#NONONO I CANT THINK ABOUT IT OR ILL CRY#SARDINE LEFT HER IMPACT ON HIM WITH THAT 'how can u be with someone not knowing their compatibility or not' LMAO#ALL BC HER P WAS SO NASTY AND NOW HES SCARRED AND THINKING 'imagine if i waited til marriage w sardine?' LMFAOOO IM SPITTING#no but fr... he shouldnt of jumped in her bed in 2 minutes but he does have a point#@ how do u know if ur compatible w someone for MARRIAGE if u dont know if their p or d stinks or not#like TRUE LMAOO#and she'll change on this it'll be so funny when she'll realize why ppl bang before marriage when she starts forming deep emotions for him#and feels like hes trustworthy LOL something will turn over in her and she'll be like *lovemones activated!!!*#but there'll def be a PHASE where shes like....no i dont trust him enough for ALL that#after they become official LDSJN BC THE TRUST ISSUES RUN DEEP until one day a lil after that the trust issues#finally lift and lets her run loose and she decides no we love each other <3 we're basically married and i'll put him on a LEASH#if he tries to run from me so here i go *TINY LOVEMONE BIRD ATTACKS ATTACKS ATTACKS*
360 notes
·
View notes
Text
"8 months?!"
synopsis: weeks of stress call for a friday night of lazing on the couch and drinking with your roommate!toji. you may or may not have accidentally let something slip, and toji takes it into his hands to fix it. not without making sure you're up to the challenge first.
includes: nsfw! toji x fem!reader, drunk sex, they're drinking throughout, alcohol play, all consensual, reader gets referred to as doll/dollface, girl among other things, slight choking, low-key face fucking, p in v, oral both receiving. i love toji, miss u stink w.c: 3.4k
It's been almost two months since you’ve had time for yourself. School, work, and friends have been plaguing you with duty after duty for the longest and it’s all been weighing on you heavily. Now that the midterms are over, you’ve decided to take the next two days off of work and have a long weekend. Five days of doing absolutely nothing and just recuperating from all the stress of the world.
But actually doing absolutely nothing is far from your agenda. You’re shutting your shared apartment door with your hips because your hands are full of bags. Bags of bottles.
No, you don’t have a drinking problem. But everyone needs a good drink once in a while. And what better way to unwind than straight hard liquor and shitty tv shows? Straight hard liquor and shitty tv shows with your roommate, Toji!
You haven’t asked him yet, but you sent a quick text asking if he’d binge a show with you. You make sure to include the fact that there might be some drinking involved, and by the time you’re back from changing, he’s patiently manspreading on the couch, bottle in hand as he smirks at you. You shake your head and make your way over, picking some random sitcom to cheese over while you drink.
It’s not long before you start to get woozy, and you’re much more relaxed and chatty. He’ll never admit it but he’s pleased to see you like this. You haven’t been sharing this apartment with him for so long, so you’re still somewhat reserved. It’s fine though, because it makes the way you talk to him now much more enticing.
You’re even forgoing the show you put on to just drone on and on. His whole demeanor changes when you say something about last getting nasty in February.
“February…girl, it’s October—you haven’t gotten laid in eight months?”
You groan and slap your hands over your face.
You scowl at the thought of that dreadful night. You weren’t some kind of sex god yourself, but you’re pretty sure no one should feel as bad as you did that day. The whole thing was dry, fast, and painfully unsexy. You’re snatching the bottle out of your roommate's hand and raising it to your lip to wash away the memories of pain.
Toji is absolutely dumbfounded at your words. He’d be damned if he could go two weeks without getting his dick sucked, what do you mean eight fucking months??
“must’ve been some weak ass dick to get you out the game for almost a year. fuckin insane.”
toji's eyes rake over your exposed thighs and the buzz from the alcohol is starting to get a bit stronger in his mind.
"y'know, maybe I could help ya with that."
Once the words register in your hazy mind, you're choking on the remaining liquid that covers your tongue. toji's large hand swats rather gently at your back as he grumbles.
"Easy now, didn't mean to startle you. s'just a suggestion anyway."
He leans back and shuts his eyes, letting the swirling feeling take over his body rather than the thought of you. Having to hide the fact he's been eyeing you for the longest time has been hard enough, he doesn't need the air getting too awkward because he couldn't shut his drunk ass up.
"what if... I do want it?"
You’re trying to catch the words before they come out, but your reaction time has been stupidly slowed by the intoxication. You’re inwardly cursing at yourself, turning your head the other way to avoid his eyes.
toji is cracking an eye open to look at your expression, but you're avoiding his face. You gasp as he grips your chin to force your gaze into his own.
"you sure about that, dollface?"
Maybe there is a little doubt somewhere in your mind, but it's not like you haven't thought about fucking toji before. And with the alcohol jumbling the last three thoughts you've managed to hold onto for the last hour, you give him a shaky nod.
Toji smirks before licking the trail of alcohol that had dribbled from your lips prior. His tongue is wet and warm as it drags over the corner of your mouth. He's so close to your face like this and you're parting your lips instinctively. He takes it as a sign to place his mouth on yours. Your lips are just as soft as you, but they're way softer than he imagined. His hand moves towards your neck to grip and pull you closer to him. The quick action has you yelping, and he's shoving his tongue into your mouth.
The kiss is rough, sloppy, and full of teeth. It's so primal, so messy, so toji. You're getting giddy-brained from how that scar is grazing your lip and the strong taste of alcohol isn't helping your situation.
Your body is twisted weirdly to accommodate his position, but something in the back of your mind is telling you to move. You’re fighting a losing battle trying to overpower it, because soon enough you're climbing into his lap to get as close as possible.
This is something he generously welcomes. Placing his hands on your hips, he's guiding your clothed cunt over his hardening cock. His lips trail down the side of your face to the skin of your neck. The harsh bite he gives your neck has you yelping out, and it comes out broken.
His rough fingers are moving up your sides, under the flimsy material of your tank top, and you are getting impatient. It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose to piss you off, but you’re not angry—more desperate than anything. You’re pushing hard against him, whining—begging for him to help you out. It’s been so long, and toji is doing such a good job at riling you up, you’re sure you’ll explode if this goes on any longer.
“Ah ah, not so fast. Before I fuck this cunt, Y’gotta prove you deserve it. Show me how badly you want it.”
He’s softly shoving you off him, but his face is still so close to yours.
“Y’er mouth, doll. Use that mouth of yours.”
Knees planted firmly into the carpet below you, you’re a little scared. Toji’s cock is out before you; long, angry, and leaking. You always assumed he’d be big, but seeing it up close like this was a whole different story.
“If y’keep starin’ like that, nothing’s gonna get done, princess.”
you suck in a breath before covering the tip of his cock with your lips. His precum is salty-sweet, but you savor the taste nonetheless as it mixes with your saliva and spreads all around his tip. Toji groans at the sensation, throwing his head back.
With a few bobs of your head, you’ve managed to take most of his length without an issue. But he’s still so big, and he’s entirely keen on having himself fully sheathed in your mouth. You whimper when his heavy hand comes in contact with the back of your head.
“c’mon doll, know you can take it all—fuck yeah, jus’ like that.”
The tears welling in your eyes are threatening to spill over when your nose presses against the base of his cock. Your eyes are pressed shut, and you’re barely able to swallow around his cock. When you’re finally able to open them, you catch Toji’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows another mouthful of alcohol. His eyes meet yours in a lustful gaze, and you’re finally comfortable enough to move.
Whether it’s the recent shot he took, or you’re just insanely good, the dark-haired man is losing his fucking mind. The heat from your mouth coupled with the vibrations from noises you’re making around him is sending him to another plane. His entire body feels like static, and he's getting so lost in the pleasure he's completely unaware when he starts to guide your lips up and down his length.
Your nails are digging into the exposed muscles of his thighs as he humps up to meet your head coming down, and you can't hold back the tears anymore. You're taking everything he's giving you so well, not a single complaint from the moment he started to fuck your face until he finishes staining the back of your throat with his thick cum.
He rides every single drop out into your mouth, making sure his balls are completely empty before letting you pull off. Your face is tear-stricken, and you're huffing to catch your breath, but you're far from done.
“fucker really lost a gem, huh. Alright—your turn, get up here n’lay down.”
With your back pressed to the arm of the couch, toji is staring at you from
above. Usually, you’d be self-conscious, being fully naked and all, but it looks like the gears in his head are turning, and they’re turning hard. he takes another second before pausing, reaching over behind you to grab at your almost empty bottle.
It’s quick, and soon enough the room-temperature liquid is trickling down your body. The lips of the bottle are pressed just above your tits, starting to dribble down between them and the trail is messy and diverging. You can feel the drops splitting off and falling onto the cushions below you, but you’re much too enticed by the concentration on his face.
You shiver when you feel the drink starting to pool in your belly button, and he decides it’s enough. He places the bottle down on the ground beside him before connecting his mouth with the beginning of his newly made trail.
Even in the cool air of the living room, your body is insanely hot. His lips are working stupidly slow, warm tongue flicking over every droplet he could catch. It should be weird, but the way his brows are furrowed in deep concentration is making the heat brewing in your belly pick up. He’s taking his time, bending and weaving his neck as he makes his way down, down and down.
Toji’s rough tongue swirls deep in your belly button, and you can’t help the way your stomach churns. It’s doing weird things to you, the way he’s drinking out of the shallow dip. he only stops when he’s satisfied with how much he was able to get out. His hot trail of biting, sucking, and kisses doesn’t stop until his lips are stationed right above your clit.
In terms of patience, toji doesn’t have a lot of it. He thinks he’s done an almost perfect job of taking his time with you, making sure you’re as wanting as possible. But your scent is assaulting his mind, and the bits of intoxication he’s picked up from drinking off your body alone are starting to fuck with him just a bit.
So he mumbles something under his breath before pushing your thighs up and diving in. It’s almost all too quick the way his mouth closes around your swollen clit. Your body is raising from the chair, but toji is keeping you so strongly grounded against his face as he sucks hard. Your hands are trying to find something—anything to keep you from absolutely losing it, and your shaky fingers settle on his head.
Your nails are digging deep into his scalp, fisting at his dark locks that are now damp with sweat. You’re pulling him closer and closer into your heat, and your vision starts to go white once he invites a thick finger in.
It’s not normal how good this feels. Even though your last fuck was so ass, all the good ones combined couldn’t even compare to what you’re feeling now. Your mouth is leaking words your brain can’t register, and Toji’s scar grazing the puffy skin of your pussy is not helping.
His large hand still has your leg up in the air just high enough, and he’s giving you the benefit of the doubt that if he lets it go you won’t disappoint. He can feel the way your foot starts to rest on his back once he releases.
But it’s almost immediately that his tongue is switching out with his finger and your thighs are closing in quick on his head. He circles an arm around, thumb roughly pressing against your sensitive nub as he fucks you with his tongue. The wet muscle is twisting and turning inside you, brushing all around against the best spots that have you choking and crying out praises of his name.
In tandem with his finger, his nose is still bumping harshly bumping your clit and that’s what sends you almost toppling over the edge. Your eyes roll back and as you look up you can’t even see the roof, just waves and waves of hot pleasure spreading over your brain like the way your release is spreading all over his tongue.
toji is lapping up your essence like a dog, sucking and drinking it all in as he ‘cleans’ you up. He nods in satisfaction, and he raises himself to give him space to pull his shirt off.
“want another shot before I fuck the shit outta ya?”
So vulgar. But you nod regardless. Reaching back down, Toji grabs the almost empty bottle and fills his mouth with the rest. His hand grips your cheeks until your lips are slightly parted, then he places his on yours. You can feel the punishing liquid flow into your mouth. Once he’s sure his mouth is empty, he pulls back and waits for you to swallow. Then he shakes.
He’s shaking your head with such a force that would definitely leave you dazzled sober, but your head is absolutely rolling mixed with the alcohol. You whine from the way your vision blurs and you can hear him laugh.
“Don’t be like that, it’ll make it much nicer. C’mon, flip over, lemme show you.”
Your fingers are holding onto the arm of the chair as he bullies the tip of his cock into your entrance. He’s hissing at the way you’re swallowing him up with that cunt of yours, and you’re just trying not to let your brain get too far from your head.
Whatever amount of alcohol he gave was definitely more than a shot, and the way he shook you right after was definitely too much because you can barely register anything else than the stretch of his cock and the way the room is wobbling.
He’s barely halfway in when it really starts to hit you. Your lips are curling into a wry smile as the base of his cock is pressed flat against your ass, and you’re almost completely sure you’re in heaven. Your mouth is open but nothing is coming out, and it’s a smack! on the ass from his heavy hand that’s drawing you back in with a moan. All it takes is you looking back at him with those adorable eyes of yours to turn him right on, and he’s starting to fuck you with a speed that’s causing your brain to lag.
Toji is a big guy(in all aspects) with a lot of energy. And all that energy is going into ruining your cunt at this very moment. His hands are tight against your hips as his come flush with yours over and over, balls smacking against you. Your eyes are shut and you’re practically wailing from the pleasure overload. He’s grunting hard above you, voice deep and gruff all while keeping you in place to take every thrust.
“Move those hips, girl. Fuck—yes. Keep movin’ like that.”
You’re trying your best to keep up with his pace as best as you can; which to be honest isn’t that good. The speed he’s moving is inhumane, but he’s rewarding your efforts by angling his own hips up to help his tip push perfectly against that certain spot deep in you.
Your words have lost all coherence, and you’re just a crying mess of pleas. He’s planted one foot on the ground for leverage, knocking something over that’ll be a pain to clean later, but he doesn’t care. Right now he’s completely focused on you and the stupidly sweet noises you’re making that he’s not sure when he sends a thrust that has you almost toppling off the couch.
Even with the way his mind is all over the place, he’s still quick to pull you back before you get too far. Your breathing is all over the place, your face a fucked mess, but you’re still functioning enough to mutter out a weak-
“p-please don’t stop!”
And who is he to deny you in this moment, hm? But he’s not big on the idea of risking that dumb little head of yours, so he moves his hold to your elbows. He’s holding your entire front weight up without a problem, and picking up his pace again without much of an issue.
And you’re completely crumbling under his hold when he starts to pound into you once again. He's hitting too deep, too hard, too quickly and it's all too much for you. That familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach is spreading all through your body; flowing through your entire being like the blood in your veins.
"t-toji, m'cumming, fuck, fuck, fuck-"
And your entire body is flashing white hot as you cum, trembling under his hold. Your voice is a shrill hoarse cry as his hips slow; grinding against your ass to fuck you to your orgasm's end.
You're losing all energy, barely able to even keep your head up, but Toji is far from done with you.
"You tired?"
But you're quick to shake your head no. It's been months, almost a year since you've gotten even a fraction of what this is. You're not about to pass it up for anything. he mumbles a sultry 'atta girl' before pulling you towards him. Your back is hitting the soaked seat of the couch as he kneels above you. His grip is finding your knees and bringing them down towards your chest, before filling you up with his still-hard length.
"Shit, that fucker lost a treasure. Basically won the damn lottery here."
His words are going straight to your cunt, and your hole is fluttering around him, almost locking him in place as you writhe from the overstimulation.
Toji is pushing a lone finger past your swollen lips, and it's almost instinct the way your tongue flits over it. You're sucking moaning around it, and the way your face contorts as he continues to move in and out of you is making his cock twitch inside you. Each twitch and pulse of the thick vein lining the underside of his cock have you jumping at each slight movement.
But he's nothing but a man, and the weight in his balls is becoming too much to bear. He has no intentions of cumming anywhere that's not inside you, so he dips his head as close to your face as possible.
"Gotta fill this cunt up. Y'er gonna take it all, yeah?"
You're gurgling something unintelligible around his digit, but the way you look up at him is all the confirmation he needs.
hes releasing from your mouth, pushing the wet finger against your clit as your back arches off the chair. He can feel you pulsing around him, and it's a sob full of his name that has him groaning, pressing his forehead flush with yours as he pumps you full of his cum. Each spurt is thicker than the last, and by the time he's done you feel completely full, still plugged up with his softening cock.
When he does eventually pull out, you can barely lift a finger. Your entire body is flushed and sticky, and the reality of what just happened is starting to hit you hard. Toji is getting up and scooping you into his arms to take you to the bathroom.
"Y'er paying to get that shit cleaned, by the way."
"You're the one who got alcohol all over it?"
"Yeah, but it's your cum that's soakin' into those cushions right now, doll."
Toji snickers when he hears you call him an asshole under your breath. He won't be as much of an asshole if he bends you over the bathroom vanity though, right?
#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk toji#toji smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro#toji x you#jjk men#anime smut#fushiguro toji#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk
329 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE GIFT OF VENGEANCE | aemond targaryen
summary: Aemond replayed this image on a loop, squirming in his seat every time he got to the part where her eyes popped out of her skull.
Two eyes for his one, and the eight years he went without his revenge.
8.5k
cw: female!lucerys velaryon, au-modern setting, explicit sexual content, dubcon, graphic depictions of violence, sadist!aemond, obsessive!aemond, dark!aemond, choking, p in v, oral sex (fem!receiving), blood kink, biting, mentions of childhood trauma, breeding kink, uncle/niece, kinda DD:DE? not that dead though… u might be able to eat…
He hears her first, that soft tittering which haunted his childhood, piercing straight into the marred socket of his left eye, down the monstrous scar she had left him with.
She sits behind him, planked between her brothers, the only daughter of his half-sister, and therefore the most beloved. Maybe Jacaerys had whispered a joke, his lips sticky against the shell of her ear, laughter bubbling up her throat at whatever inane quip he made. A part of him, the one that dominated his childhood, leaving him cowering along the sand and crying fat tears into his mothers skirts, thinks that maybe they’re whispering about him– their stoic, one-eyed uncle, whom they once taunted and teased as children. Her amusement echoes around the corners of his mind, running along every ridge of his spine and settling deep within him, into an endless pool of festering hatred.
It had been years since Aemond had seen his half-sister and her litter of bastards, but now that he has, he’s ready to never see them again. The rift between their families is slowly starting to mend, threads of green and black pulling together to stitch up the hole that was left after Laena’s funeral, and the taking of his eye. His mother, once reverent in her hatred for Rhaenyra, now holds onto her arm with a newfound longing, fingers rubbing circles along the long scar she had given her that same night, when she had demanded an eye for an eye. It was one of his fondest memories– Lucerys crying out in terror as Alicent rushed towards her holding a dagger, her darling face twisted in fear, hiding behind her mothers skirts. Even when his empty socket was throbbing with an intense pain that not even milk of the poppy could cure, he still relished in the sight.
His father had been slowly dying for years before he finally succumbed to his illness, something Aemond had anticipated every time he walked past his room, the sour stench of rot and sickness permeating through the shut doors, along with the constant beeping of medical machinery. The funeral had been just as droll as his last days, with Aegon slumped beside him, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, stinking of the bottle he had downed beforehand. Helaena was busy slouched over, peering down at the iridescent beetle that crawled around her fingers, muttering to herself, ignorant to the snorts Aegon would give and the shushing their mother hissed. And Daeron, the youngest of his siblings, was perched between mother and their grandfather, in which he had spent most of his childhood with, a good boy who listened steadfastly to the sermon. Behind him, the Velaryon siblings sat, from eldest to youngest, hands clasped together as they mourned in a way Aemond hadn’t.
Her presence seared into him, burning down to his bones, etching itself into the very marrow of him. The gods were feeling particularly cruel this day, and he listened to the sound of his niece’s sniffling, soft sobs leaving her lips in the place of the laughter he was once used to. He had wanted nothing more than to turn around, to peer upon her darling face, flushed a splotchy pink as tears streamed down her cheeks, the tip of her nose red and her brown eyes wide and watery, eyelashes clumped with tears. He imagined himself grabbing ahold of the chub of her cheeks, squashed beneath his fingers as he plunges his thumbs into her eye sockets, the white mush mixing with her crimson blood, a beautiful concoction made just for him. The thought dizzied him, and while speeches were given and prayers were sung, Aemond replayed this image on a loop, squirming in his seat every time he got to the part where her eyes popped out of her skull. Two eyes for his one, and the eight years he went without his revenge.
He remembers how those eyes, big and glimmering with a certain mischief, would peer at him with the curiosity of a doe, as if trying to figure out what made him tick. A brush of her fingers against the back of his hand, the warmth of her breath against his jaw, her gangly limbs stumbling over his own. These small tortures she’d inflict on him, only to turn and laugh in the wake of his trauma, when their older brothers would taunt and tease him incessantly. She’d trail after them, giggling at their antics with a small hand held over her mouth, the apples of her cheeks flushed red in mirth. He had hated her for it. Her ignorance hurt more than any push or shove Aegon or Jacaerys could bestow upon him.
“D’you think mum will notice if I leave?” Aegon slurs in his ear, spittle fanning across his jaw as he leans heavily against his shoulder, already in a drunken stupor. “She seems rather occupied, right?”
Aemond has to force himself not to sneer, eye twitching in annoyance as Aegon sways on his unsteady feet. His older brother has long been the family’s drunken embarrassment, but to see him act this way in front of their half-sister and her clan irritates him more than it usually would. Aegon’s beady eyes are glazed over, partly focused on their mother, who stands at Rhaenyra’s side like a leech, mouth twisted into a pitiful smile as she hangs onto every word that leaves the silver-haired bitch’s lips.
Aemond hums. “She’d notice eventually.”
He expects Aegon to stumble off, his clipped tone hinting to an end of the conversation, but instead, he chuckles. “Our little niece has grown into quite the woman, wouldn’t you say?”
The brothers watch as she chats with Daemon, their uncle and her stepfather, his towering figure dwarfing her smaller one. As Targaryen’s, hailed from Old Valyria and of an ancient bloodline, rumored to be connected to fantastical dragons, incestuous relations were once common within their family. After the turn of the century, their house which was once full of riches and immense power, halted in this practice. That is, until Rhaenyra whored herself out to her father’s brother at a young age. Despite this scandal, his half-sister steadily remained their father’s favorite, even after her marriage to Daemon and the birth of two sons.
“Come, brother. There’s no need to play shy,” Aegon snickers in Aemond’s silence, the alcoholic stench of his breath lingering under his nose. “We are Targaryen’s after all… surely you’ve thought about giving it to her. I know I have. Especially after the�� incident.”
“I have no taste for such depravity.”
His brother groans, hand slipping off his shoulder as he wobbles off, unsatisfied with Aemond’s answer. Before he can leave, Aemond reaches out to stop him, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “You’re embarrassing us, lēkia.”
Aegon merely shrugs him off, stumbling over his feet as he walks out of the room, barely making it through the archway without tripping. The sight makes him grumble, jawbone tense as he grinds his teeth, returning his attention to the window, where a mess of dark curls now sits, face hidden from view. He has only glimpsed her once, when leaving the funeral, her eyes watery and nose tinted a shade of pink, tear tracks staining her cheeks. She had smiled at him. The image has been playing on a loop inside his head, a never ending reel of her pretty face and that ringing laugh, ever since he saw it.
Lucerys Velaryon has always been beautiful, he thinks. The features he has always hated in her brother– that stubby nose, the freckles along their cheeks, their dark hair and dark eyes– sneering down at him as he pushed him to the ground, were always devastating in her. As children, he had imagined she was the Maiden reincarnated, the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on, even when she’d laugh in his misery, carrying out her small tortures with every lingering look and every brush of her skin against his. After she took his eye, her face began to haunt him for different reasons, and his dreams of her becoming his bride turned into nightmares where her laugh would echo around his head while her blade cut into his flesh once again, this time taking his other eye as well. His hatred grew into a cruel thing, festering deep inside him until it started to rot through his bones, and every thought turned violent.
Rhaenyra would send their father pictures of her and her bastards, and he’d hang them around the house, in every hallway and on every fireplace mantle. Every year, they’d have a new picture, and as if to taunt him, Lucerys’ was always hung on the wall across from his bedroom door. He has always suspected Aegon of this pettiness, for his brother would often catch him glaring at the portrait from his doorway, eye tracing the curls of her hair and the curve of her jaw. Her eyes seemed to follow him as he walked, up until he would slam his door shut, locking her away from view. His hatred, still burning bright, had mixed with a different feeling that left a tight coil in his stomach, one which twisted more and more each time he saw that damned portrait.
Her face is etched along the inside of his eyelid, forced to see her every time he closes his eye. He has memorized every freckle, every curve and dip, even the milky scar that sits near her hairline from an accident when they were children, when Aegon had bumped into her, causing her to fall and hit her forehead against a jagged rock. The sight of her blood along the stones had nauseated him at the time, and so did her tears, fat as they dripped down her cheeks and into her wailing mouth. Now, he thinks he would quite like to see her blood again, to hear her cries as he inflicts the same pain she had once inflicted on him. His pants grow tighter at the thought, but he can’t find it in himself to be ashamed.
The air in the room grows thick, and he watches as Jacaerys stands above her, hand resting on the crown of her head, fingers slowly caressing the strands. She looks up with a small smile, eyes glowing in the midday sun that shines through the window next to her. His hands curl into fists, knuckles turning white as she laughs again, the sound ringing in his ears like a persistent bell. He quickly makes his way out of the stuffy room, shoulders tense as he passes by his mother and half-sister, neither of whom have looked away from one another since their reunion. The hallway is empty, and so is the looming staircase, which he climbs in stride, farther away from the center room and her lingering laugh. Beneath his eyepatch, his empty socket begins to throb, a searing pain shooting through the wound until his vision nearly goes white, and he’s left stumbling into his room, collapsing on the bed.
His curtains are still closed, shielding him away from the blazing sun, leaving his room dark with only slivers of light shining along the floor. He lays among rumpled sheets, tugging off the leather patch fastened around his head, bringing a shaky palm up to cover the aching hole. He is used to this pain, which plagues him more often than not, but within the presence of the one who created it, it seems to swell over him like a tidal wave. He barely hears the knock on his door, and when he doesn’t answer, a few seconds go by, until someone barges in.
Even in the dark he can still make out her wide eyes and the sheath of curls around her shoulders, her steps timid as she comes to a stop at the edge of his bed, fingers curled together in a nervous habit. “Are you alright, uncle?”
Her soft voice rouses him, his palm pressing deeper into his empty socket, while he looks up at her hovering figure. Her eyes dart over his face, lingering on his hand which covers his wound, and he wonders if she is remembering how he had covered his eye that night she had taken it, how he screamed and cried atop the sand, blood seeping through the cracks of his fingers, a perfect match to the blood dripping from the dagger in her small hands. When she quickly averts her gaze to a corner of his room, he feels a smug satisfaction rumbling in his chest.
“I… I’m sorry to bother you,” she murmurs, voice faltering slightly in his silence. “I was asked to come check on you.”
He hums. “By who?”
She’s quiet, eyes flicking back at him as if she is surprised by the sound of his voice. He merely stares back, palm growing sweaty in its position. Like a deer caught in headlights, her mouth opens and closes, before she finally speaks.
“Our mothers wish for our families to make amends. Given the death of Viserys.”
Aemond sits up at this, dropping his hand to his lap, stare hardening as her eyes dart to the now exposed scar, to the gaping hole where his eye once laid. She swallows, but makes no attempt to back away or close her eyes. Instead, Lucerys draws closer, head leaning over to get a better look at her work in the dim room. His stomach churns, fingers inching towards the eyepatch that sits beside him, yet he stops himself from grabbing it. No, he wants her to see what she did to him.
“You want to make amends?” he pushes, voice raspy from his dry throat. He sits up farther, leaning closer to her hovering frame. She nods. “And how do you plan on doing that, riñītsos?”
She looks at him in trepidation, lips tugging downwards and her brows furrowing above her dark eyes. The black dress she wears is short, hem stopping in the middle of her thighs, the material tight around her waist, and his eye snags on the motion of one of the straps falling off her shoulder, resting above a small freckle. She doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just doesn’t care, her stare not wavering as she makes no move to fix it. There’s a look in her eyes he’s never seen before, something gleaming and intoxicating, drawing him into a pool of soft velvet. He wants to hold them, those delicate globes, in his hands, feel the warm slime of them like two marbles.
In a quick motion, spurred on by his vivid imagination, he grabs ahold of her jaw, tugging her face close to his. “Will you take out your eye, hm? Give me what’s been owed all these years?”
Lucerys surprises him. Instead of falling back in fear, she merely smiles. It’s sardonic in nature, and he watches in trepidation as her eyes flicker down to rest upon his lips. So quick, he barely registers it, yet the action shocks a bolt of lightning down his spine, and his grip on her jaw tightens in a mix of dubiety and fury. Her smile only seems to grow wider at this, as if she is aware of every thought crossing his mind, nestling their way into the mush of his brain.
“Is that what you want, uncle? My eye?”
It is, he thinks. And so much more. He wasn’t lying when he told Aegon he has no taste for depravity, always the dutiful son despite what has befell him. Aemond tries hard to wash away his vengeful urges, the stirring of his cock when he imagines his little niece writhing in pain, covered in bruises and bleeding cuts, her eyes wide and tearful as she squeals like a piglet, under the might of his fists and his knife. His thoughts have only grown darker, crueler than he cared to admit, with flashes of his suckling on her open wounds like his mothers tit when he was a babe, warm blood resting along his tongue instead of milk. Nothing would taste as sweet, he was sure of it.
With a tug, Lucerys topples over him, her body plush against his own, and he quickly flips them over, his knees up against her ribcage. Her face is flushed from exertion, her hands scrambling against his chest and shoulders, legs kicking out from under him, though her efforts are in vain as Aemond merely tightens his grip around her. Stubbornly, her lips pursed into a sour smile, she stops her struggling and stares up at him in defiance.
“Go ahead then,” she goads, raising her chin and bringing her hands up to rest against his back, fingernails digging through his shirt and into his skin. He hopes they leave marks. “I won’t scream. I won’t fight. I refuse to give you the satisfaction of my pain, uncle.”
A deep, twisted rage sits within him, rising in plumes of smoke like the molten lava from an exploding volcano, and as he glares down at his sweet niece, the image of their homeland flashes across his vision. Their ancestors once lived on the island of Valyria, a prosperous place that had been home to the largest mount, which erupted and destroyed the land, as well as all those who resided there. A few Targaryen’s were lucky to escape just a few years before, and he thinks about this luck now, bringing a hand up to wrap around the width of Lucerys’ neck. She keeps her word; she doesn’t fight back, doesn’t try to scream, even as his fingers tighten enough to bruise, cutting off her air circulation. Tears gather at the corners of her eyes, and Aemond finds himself groaning, arousal splashing over him like ice water.
He removes his hand. Lucerys gasps for air, nails no longer digging into his skin, hands now limp around his waist. Her gaze looks down, chest heaving as she slightly tilts her head, focusing on Aemond’s lap. With a flush, he realizes she’s staring at his erection, which is pushing against his trousers, its heaviness resting against her abdomen. Her eyes glimmer at the sight, pink lips tugging upwards into another smug smile, hands inching towards his thighs that are still wrapped around her. When her fingers press against his thighs, he jolts back.
She sits up with a small laugh. “I thought you wanted to put out my eye, Aem.”
The nickname, one he hasn’t heard since they were children, running along the beach together, toes nestling along the sand, salty waves lapping against their ankles. It makes his chest twinge, an ache forming under his ribs, and he quickly turns away, resting his hands on the wooden surface of his desk. “Get out.”
It’s quiet, with only the sound of their families downstairs, chatting and laughing, which does nothing to help the tension of the room. He hears her sigh, short legs twisting beneath her as she climbs off his bed, shoes hitting the floor softly. She lingers at the door, hand resting on the doorknob while her eyes burn holes into his back, willing him to say something, but he doesn’t. He merely waits in silence, solemn in the dark corner of his room, among his books and journals. It’s only when he hears the door open and shut, and the sound of her footsteps retreating down the hallway and onto the stairs, does he sit back on his bed, lowering himself down to press his nose against the spot where she once laid, the scent of her still fresh on his sheets.
*
She’s taunting him, eyes avoiding his own one-eyed stare, dark hair fanning over her face every time she turns to speak to her brother, as if she’s hiding from him. As if she hadn’t smiled as he sat atop her, hands around her neck, a threat on the tip of his tongue. Now, she sits across from him, at the far end of the long dining table, nothing but wood and various dishes separating them.
Perhaps he should’ve taken her eye when he had the chance, he thinks. In the moment, he had doubted she wouldn’t have screamed. He knows the pain of losing an eye all too well, searing and bone-deep. Despite her promises, Lucerys Velaryon would’ve cried out the minute his blade touched her skin, and their families would have rushed into the room and stopped him in his act of revenge. No, if he was to take her eye, he needed to do so in a secluded place, where no one could interrupt him.
Helaena, sitting beside him, mumbles something, her hand feather-light against his own. He looks over at her, and she merely lifts out her other palm, showing him the fuzzy caterpillar that slowly moves along her skin. He can’t help but smile, though his sister doesn’t notice as she keeps her lilac gaze on the small critter she holds, moving her hand from him to run a finger gently down its spine. Next to her, Aegon snorts in his cup, taking another swig before leaning back in his chair, a slimy grin on his face.
“Have you given any more thought to what I said earlier, little brother?”
His words are slurred, and Aemond decides to ignore him, lifting his own cup to his lips and taking a sip. In the middle, his mother sits beside Rhaenyra, their heads bent towards one another, lips pulled into wistful smiles, as if they are old friends, or perhaps lovers. Daemon had gone home, taking their three youngest with him, as well as his twin daughters, leaving his niece-wife and her two eldest in the hands of the woman they both once despised.
Aegon, never one for taking hints, continues. “If you don’t want her, I’ll be happy to show our dear niece a good time. I have hopes she’ll be… pure.”
Clenching his jaw, Aemond finally looks over at his drunken brother, giving him the attention he seemingly craves. Aegon smirks, head tipped forward as he leans over Helaena, who is still too busy with her caterpillar. From the corner of his eye, he can see their mother looking over at her eldest son cautiously, though when Rhaenyra whispers something in her ear, she looks away.
Aemond opens his mouth to respond, but is interrupted by the sound of Lucerys’ laughter, and the breaking of glass. Him and Aegon advert their gazes to the opposite end of the table, where Jacaerys stands with reddened cheeks, holding the broken stem of a wine glass. Lucerys is hunched over, laughter bubbling out of her lips, tears dotting the corners of her eyes, reminding Aemond of when he had his hands around her throat only a few hours earlier. The thought makes him shift in his seat, a sliver of heat darting through his abdomen.
“Jace… oh my God,” she stutters out, still laughing, hand lifting up as she shows the table her palm, where a shard of glass sticks out, blood trickling down her wrist. Jace immediately darts forward, grabbing her arm, tilting her hand towards him so he can inspect the wound, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “It’s fine, brother. I’m okay!”
Rhaenyra also rounds the table, cradling her daughter's head against her chest, smoothing a hand down her curls. Lucerys continues to laugh, though it slowly starts to turn into giggles, which eventually die down until she’s left hiccupping, ruddy cheeks stained with tears from her outburst. His mother had run off, and now she returns, first aid kit in hand, which she gives to his half-sister, who puts her hand on Lucerys’ shoulder, pushing her to sit back in her chair. Aemond watches as her blood continues a path down her arm, before beginning to drip onto the surface of the table, leaving small dots of crimson.
She watches with watery eyes as her mother grabs a pair of tweezers, going for the glass jutting out her skin. “Shh, it’s okay, my darling girl.”
The shard is slowly pulled out, a bubbling of more blood rising to the surface, and Aemond watches with a hard cock. It’s placed on a napkin atop the table, next to the pool of blood that now seeps into the wood, yet no one moves to clean it up. Or maybe his mother does, her scabbed fingers wiping the liquid away with a cloth, always one for cleanliness. Aemond wouldn’t know, as his eye is trained on the cut along Lucerys’ palm, as her own mother tends to it. A wipe is swiped across, turning from white to red, and then comes the gauze, which is wrapped around continuously, until the blood ceases to seep through the material. The whole time, his little niece sits without flinching, eyes watching him as he watches her.
When she’s finished, the wound now covered, the room is quiet for just a moment, before a booming clap of thunder echoes against the walls, and the sound of pouring rain pings off the roof. Jace is on his knees beside his sister, hands holding her wrist, whispering apologies in her ear, ones which she doesn’t reply to as she continues to stare across the table. It isn’t until Jace follows her gaze that she replies, before picking up her fork and stabbing at a lone carrot that sits on her plate, bringing it up to her lips as she finally looks away, giving her older brother a smile.
Dinner continues as before, and by now, Aegon has slumped over his chair, fast asleep in his drunkenness. Their mother, surprisingly, pays him no mind, and neither does Helaena, who excuses herself to her room, eyes still focused on the crawling insect she holds. Rhaenyra continuously peeks over at Lucerys, face glossed in worry, but she merely listens to her brother talk, occasionally nodding her head or laughing softly at whatever it is he was droning on about. With nothing to distract him, Aemond is silent in his suffering as he watches her, eye flickering down to her wrapped palm every few minutes, as if willing it to peel off and show him that red slice once more.
The storm has gotten worse, lightning flashing through the closed windows nearly every second, the thunder becoming so loud that it interrupts his mother and half-sisters conversation, the both of them wondering aloud on whether it will pass or continue through the night. It is already dark out, the ticking clock reading nine o’clock, and it is his mother who proposes the idea.
“Please, Rhaenyra,” her fingers rub against her scar, eyes pleading. “Stay. It is too dangerous to leave now, in the dark while it’s storming so heavily. We have more than enough guest rooms for you, Luke, and Jace to stay in.”
His mothers use of Lucerys’ nickname jolts him. Beside him, Aegon lets out a snore.
Despite her wariness, Rhaenyra agrees to stay the night, and Aemond thinks he has never seen his mother so happy before. With a huff, he stands, and when his mother doesn’t even look at him, too busy staring at his whore half-sister with stars in her eyes, he takes that as his cue to leave. He glances over at Lucerys once more, both her and Jace now watching him, their matching eyes and noses making him want to sneer. Instead, he makes his way out of the dining room, his steps heavy as he trudges up the stairs, head throbbing in tune with the pattering rain.
*
He can barely sleep, his body restless as he tosses and turns among rumpled sheets, nose twitching against the scent of her that still lingers. Aemond swears he can feel her, even as she sleeps just down the hall, and his skin is slick with sweat, a pulse running through his swelling cock. He teases himself, brushing a hand between his thighs, coiling away when he only gets harder, silver hair sticking to his flushed face as he lays there with the heavy weight of shame bearing down on his chest. His only solace being the plip-plop of the rain against his window, the storm now passed, leaving only that soft sound in its wake, soothing along his headache.
Something wriggles beneath the skin of his chest, insistent as he sits up, looking around the dark room, a warning bell ringing within his ears. When he looks out the window, a flash of white crosses his vision, and for a moment, he thinks the storm has started again. It isn’t until he sees her curls, slightly damp and sticking to her shoulders, does he realize that it’s her, not the storm. She walks across the backyard, towards the small woods that sits behind their estate, clad in nothing but her nightgown. Without thinking, Aemond is slipping on a shirt and his shoes, his steps rushed as he sneaks down the stairs and out the backdoor, gaze trained on her retreating figure.
The rain is merely a drizzle now, yet it still dampens his clothes and hair, leaving raindrops along his skin, as he walks between trees, swiping at hanging branches and leaves, holding his breath as he stalks after her. She doesn’t seem to hear him, as she continues on, not faltering in her pace. The path she’s leading looks familiar to him, and he realizes that it’s the same path they used to trek as children. It leads to an old lake, full of tiny fish and swampy water, which they used to dare one another to jump in, all too afraid of what lurked below the muck. When they make it to the clearing, Lucerys doesn’t hesitate to walk up to the bank, standing along withered stones and tall weeds. The sight of the water stops Aemond in his tracks, a memory rushing to him like a vision.
It had been the hottest summer of their young lives that year, and they all spent it among the trees, lounging under the cool air the shade provided, playing trolls and goblins. When they had first discovered the lake, it was Aegon who pushed Aemond in. He had flailed within the dirty water, pale arms splashing through algae and brine as he gasped out for help, not yet knowing how to swim. Jace and Aegon had stood on the bank laughing, and to his horror, Lucerys had disappeared. It wasn’t until she rushed out from the trees, Uncle Daemon in tow, that Aemond was saved, laying along the grass and coughing up water and vomit, shivering under the stares of those around him, Daemon’s hand hard as it slapped his back. His mother had scolded Aegon, who swore he didn’t remember that his younger brother couldn’t swim, and he only became more cruel in his anger after she grounded him.
As he remembers the look on Lucerys’ young face, pinched in worry, cheeks flushed pink and bright eyes teary, he thinks perhaps he had just imagined that part. It was what he once dreamed most of; his niece caring for him. He knows this is far from the truth, as she spins around, arms held out in front of her, gaze locked on his lingering figure. Her lips curl into a sweet smile, and she wiggles her fingers, as if she is beckoning him over. Aemond finds that his rage has made another appearance, replacing his pondering with a rising fury as he makes his way towards her, swaying on her bare feet, her grin brighter than the full moon in the sky above them.
He reaches out for her, hands tight against her arms, and he watches with a curious gaze as her flesh pebbles beneath his touch, her damp skin dotted with raindrops and gooseflesh. Her head is heavy as she beams up at him, eyes hazy with sleep, her lashes fluttering under his stare. She whispers his name, lips plush around the word, dropping her head to rest against his thumping chest, nose nuzzling along the cotton of his shirt. For a moment, Aemond allows himself to revel in her warmth, his own nose resting within her hair, dark curls tickling his cheeks, and he inhales deeply, the smell of lavender and honey and rain intoxicating his senses. Lucerys presses herself closer, and as the minutes tick by, he realizes she has been sleepwalking.
Aemond has only heard tales about Lucerys’ supposed sleepwalking habit. Years ago, according to Rhaenyra, Lucerys had nearly walked out the top window in her room, her eyes open wide in an unwavering stare, bare feet pressed against the sill. It had taken Daemon picking her up and carrying her to her bed to get her to safety, and the next morning, when asked about what had happened the previous night, Lucerys hadn’t a clue what they were talking about. Daemon took to installing locks on all the windows around their home, and after that, Aemond hadn’t heard much else about his niece’s sleepwalking. He figured it was a thing of the past, something she has grown out of in the shedding of her adolescence.
Now, she stands slumped against his chest, breathing steady and her lips parted as soft sighs and snores escape her throat. The rain picks up, drizzling harder than before, and a rumbling of thunder is heard along the horizon, yet Lucerys looks peaceful in her slumber, even as Aemond’s grip on her becomes tighter. A twisted part of him thinks about how easy it would be to hurt her now, as she lays in the mercy of his hands, the same in which once easily wrapped around her throat and squeezed until her face was red. Another part of him, one much darker and persistent, wishes to slip the thin straps of her nightgown down her shoulders, to suckle on her pert nipples which press against the sheer satin, to dip a hand between her supple thighs and caress the hottest part of her.
Her neck is bare, and as he looks down, he realizes with sudden certainty that there is no one here to stop him. The moon is aglow, locusts buzzing within the grass, an occasional hoot from a lone owl, and they are in the middle of the woods, in a place unknown by anyone but them as children. She is pliant within his hold, lashes resting against her cheeks, heartbeat steady within her delicate chest. It is something he had once dreamed of, swathed in sweat-soaked sheets, cock spent along his taut stomach. And with a single dip of his chin, he is able to press his lips along the skin of her neck, right below her thrumming pulse.
She doesn’t stir, not even as his lips form a path down to her collarbones, the bones jutting out just enough for him to bite around, the feel of it between his teeth making him groan. His tongue slicks against the mark, dipping into each indent, before making its way up to her jaw, where he nibbles and sucks on the skin. His hands have moved to rest upon her hips, but as she starts to slip from his grasp, he wraps his arms around her waist, pressing her close to him once more, her breasts plush against his soaked shirt, nipples scratching between them.
He barely hears the gasp. “A-Aemond…?”
Her hands come up to his shoulders, pushing frantically as he bites down on the skin of her jaw, the sharp ache making her yelp. When he tastes blood, he finally softens, lips now wrapped around the skin, tongue lapping over the small wound. As Lucerys continues to squirm, fingernails now digging into his skin, he wrestles her to the ground, hands squelching in the mud beneath her as he holds himself above her, lips stained with a single drop of blood.
“Where are we? How did…” she trails off, realization clicking as she takes in the dark sky and the pajamas she still wears. Her eyes are glossy as she gazes up at him, the mark on her jaw shining like a beacon, encouraging him to press himself against her again. This time, she doesn’t struggle, still confused as she looks around the clearing, catching sight of the familiar lake.
His cock is pulsating as it rests between them, and he barely notices as he cants his hips to rub along her clothed cunt, white-hot pleasure shooting up his spine, making him close his eye and press his lips to her throat once again. Her breath hitches at his movements, her own legs unconsciously spreading wider, opening herself up for him to rut against her like a hound in heat. Shame twinges within his brain, yet Lucerys wraps an arm around his back, as if encouraging his ministrations, and he forces it to the back of his mind as he digs his fingers into the slick mud, hips rocking faster. She whines out, “Aem.”
In a frenzy, he brings a hand up to paw at her dress, tugging down the straps until he bares her breasts, mud staining the fabric and her skin. His lips are quick to wrap around them, going back and forth between the two, before slipping a pert nipple into his mouth, groaning at the taste of her. He imagines them swollen with milk, her stomach round with his child, her hands smoothing down his hair as he nurses from her, her sweet liquid warm as it pools in the pit of him. He grows harder at the thought, teeth nibbling at the bud, his body weight crashing atop her as he brings his other hand over to caress her other breast, fingers tweaking the lonely nipple. Her back seems to arch beneath him, her own hips matching the rhythm of his, her breath hot against his head.
“Please,” she whispers, tugging at the strands of his hair. When her pulling becomes harsher, he allows her to tug him up, her mouth agape as she tilts her chin, searching for his lips. She kisses him, wanton as she juts out her hips against his, hands frantic as they run down his shoulders and under his soaked shirt, nails scratching along his skin. Her tongue slips over his, and he thinks she tastes like the sweetest poison, of cherries and arsenic.
He pushes himself up once more, knees digging into the earth beneath him, and he doesn’t think as he rips off her dress, pulling it down her legs in one swipe. Her underwear is purple, a pretty shade of lilac that reminds him of his own eye, with a little rose in the middle, now stained with mud and grass as she writhes, trying to hide the patch of wetness that seeps through the dainty fabric. Aemond is quick to lean down, pressing his nose against her navel, the smell of rain and sleep tainting her flesh, and he gives her a small lick, from her belly button to the hem of her underwear. She whines, bare chest heaving as she looks down at him, eyes pleading underneath a cloud of wariness, brows furrowed as if she is fighting a battle within her mind. When he comes face to face with her clothed cunt, he doesn’t hesitate to press his tongue against the spot of her arousal, the cotton soft along his tongue as he laps at it, trying to taste her slickness.
“Iksan jāre naejot qogralbar ao,” he grits out over the rain, his cock aching as he lays flat against it, head still between her thighs. “Yn jaelan naejot sylutegon ao ēlī.” (I am going to fuck you. But I want to taste you first).
He doesn’t ponder over whether she knows High Valyrian, the language of their ancestors, but when she lets out a moan, her head nodding against the ground, a sense of pride settles within him. He pulls the last remaining piece of clothing off, bringing his hands to her thighs, which he pushes up so that her knees are pressed against her chest, leaving her wide open for him. A groan leaves him at the sight of her wet cunt, and when he lays his tongue flat against her pearl, he nearly creams his pajama pants at the pulsing of her and the taste of her arousal. Like a man starved, his tongue laps over the whole of her, licking and sucking as she writhes and moans, a flush starting from her chest to her hairline washing over her like a veil. His hips grind into the earth below him, his eye focused on her wet face, strands of her dark hair stuck to her cheeks and across her gaping lips. He thinks she might look even prettier like this than when she cries.
She’s wanton in her moans, head lolling back and forth, eyes squeezed shut as Aemond presses a finger into her wet cavern, his own eye fluttering shut at the tightness, a ring of soft muscles clenching down. His tongue focuses on her pearl, which throbs as he flicks and presses against it, engorged in its pleasure, and as he crooks a finger up inside her, her hips buck up in a spasm, though the grip he has on her legs, which still press up to her chest, stops her from moving. A loud whimper leaves her lips, and her peak comes quickly, her arousal gushing around his finger. When she finally calms down, going slack under him, he pulls his finger out and immediately licks her cream off it, before going back in to clean up her now sensitive cunt.
Her fingers tangle within his hair, tugging to pull him off her as she wriggles under his licks, and when he finally pulls away, her grip is strong as she whines before he gives in and rests his weight above her, lips hovering her own. Her tongue comes out to lap at them, small kitten licks that grow more greedy, until she’s slipping between them and pressing him close to her. She groans, perhaps at the taste of herself on his tongue, her hips already jutting back up against him, brushing over his aching cock, desperate for more like his own ravenous whore. His hands are quick as they push down his muddied pants, cock springing up against his soaked abdomen, bringing the head to rub along the seam of her. Lucerys seems to tense under him at the feeling, but he pays no mind as he presses the tip against her tight hole, still slick and warm even after her peak.
“Aem-“ she gasps out, hands against his shoulders, eyes wide in fear at the feeling of his cock pressing into her. “I…”
He slams his hips flush against her with a grunt, a yelp escaping her quivering mouth, fingernails digging deep into the cotton of his shirt. Tears immediately start to stream down her flushed cheeks in rivulets, soft sobs building up within her closed throat. Aemond has never felt such dizzying pleasure, white hot and shooting through every nerve in his body, until he feels like he’s aflame. He doesn’t falter as Lucerys cries, his pace fast and deep, pulling out until just the tip of him remains, before slamming back in, his sack slapping against her ass. When he looks down, he can see her blood on his cock, and the sight of it, as well as the confirmation of her virginity, makes him grow frenzier, tongue running along her salty cheeks, moaning at the taste of her tears. He wants to bite her, to draw blood, to taste the very marrow of her.
A growl leaves him as he bites down against her wet cheek, the chub of it soft between his teeth. Her hands are quick to shove at his chest, though her moans and the sounds of her slickness, sticky against him, makes him believe his sweet little niece likes it just as much as he does. When he pulls away, he revels in the sight of the marks he left, bright pink and sure to turn a purple-blue after. Her sobs slowly turn into hiccups, which turn into moans that she tries to hold back with a bite to her lips, but when Aemond wraps one hand around her throat, they turn into gasps. He squeezes hard, holding for just a few seconds, before slackening his grip, letting her breathe if only for a moment, hips digging painfully into the back of her thighs with every thrust.
“You’re h-hurting me, uncle,” Lucerys cries out, doe eyes red from her tears, peering up at his grunting face above her own flushed one. “Kostilus.” (Please).
“Mazemilā ziry hae se sȳz byka līve iksā,” he sneers, bringing his body down to rest against her shivering frame, arms wrapping around her back, slick along the mud. He presses her flush to him, and she is quick to hold onto him, legs curling below the crook of his arse. “Mirre ñuhon.” (You will take it like the good little whore you are. All mine).
Her moans are sticky against his neck, lips brushing along the damp skin every time she opens her mouth, the sounds ringing in his ears above the pittering of the rain and the grumbles of occasional thunder. His fingers scratch down her back, hips stuttering as her cunt squeezes around his cock, warm and slick and unwilling to let him go. When she pulls her head up from its spot against his neck, hands scrambling to rest along his jaw, bringing his face up to look at her, eyes zoning in on the empty socket where his left eye once sat, it is then that he realizes he didn’t put on his eyepatch. He nearly shrinks into himself, jerking his chin away from her grasp so he can sink his face back against her hair, but she doesn’t relent. Instead, her fingers trace along the jagged scar, lips open in awe as she admires the work of her own hand.
Lucerys presses her lips right below the gaping hole of his eye, tongue gentle as she licks up the length of his scar. With her mouth resting just above the dark cavern, she whispers the words he has always wanted to hear, “I’m sorry, Aem. Iksan vaoreznuni.” (I am sorry).
He pushes her down to the wet ground once more, head slamming into the slush below, and she lets out a squeal, hands scrambling to push herself up. His hips snap into hers, palms tight against her wrists as he holds her down, vision a red haze. It isn’t enough. Her apology means nothing to him now, all these years after. Years spent mourning the loss of his eye, ruminating in the humiliation and injustice of that night, listening to the whispers of his classmates as they pondered over what sight sat beneath his leather eyepatch. Years of sharp pain shooting through his empty socket, of headaches that never went away, of dreaming of the one who caused this agony, her pretty face and that ringing laughter. Nothing she can say will ever be enough.
Tears stream down her pink cheeks, repainting the tracks left previously, her moans now gasps of pain and pleasure. He sits on his knees, her ass across his thighs, hips lifted upwards as he fucks her pliant body, like his own little doll. Her hair is matted with a mix of rain and mud, lips quivering and her eyes squeezed shut, a flush of shame and arousal settling across her bare chest. She looks so beautiful, so much like that young girl who has haunted his dreams since they first met, when she was just a babe and he a little boy who couldn’t yet form a sentence.
One of his hands slides up her bruised wrist, to rest along the gauze-covered palm, drawn to the wound that will scar her. His fingers dig beneath the wrap, lifting it up until the cut is bared, and as he feels her clench around him again, a breathy moan leaving her lips as her release washes over her, he leans his head down to lick along the seam. Dried blood flakes away, and as he presses his wet muscle harder, the cut reopens, blood blossoming out of it like a stream of water, which he doesn’t hesitate to lap over. His own release hits him like a tidal wave, the taste of her blood intoxicating him as he presses into her with one final thrust, his other hand going to grab onto her waist, thumb brushing against the bulge of his cock in her abdomen. She lays motionless as he uses her, until only small dots of blood remain along the reopened wound, and his cock has softened inside her, his seed hot against her womb.
Aemond rolls off of her with a grunt, hissing as her spent cunt seems to grasp at him as he pulls out. Between her thighs is a mess of blood and semen, a mix of their essences wet along his cock, and he almost hardens at the sight. He brings his fingers up to gather the pooling of the liquid that seeps out from her hole, roughly pushing it back in with a groan, her whimper sending another wave of arousal down his spine. She twitches beneath him, and when he is confident that his seed has stuck, he removes himself from her, rolling over onto his back and gazing up at the full moon, no longer covered by storm clouds. Beside him, Lucerys is quiet, only an occasional sniffle, and it seems like they lay there for hours, not speaking, not moving. Just waiting, three eyes focused on the night sky above them.
When she finally gets up, he watches with a hazy eye as she pulls on what remains of her nightgown, now a tattered, muddied mess of silk. She starts to walk off on shaky legs, but she pauses, turning back to look down at him.
“It was an accident, you know,” her voice is raspy, throat sore from the moans and cries that left her lips that night. “We were kids… I thought you were gonna kill Jace. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, Aemond.”
He doesn’t say anything. She waits a few more moments, before finally walking off, her figure disappearing among the trees, leaving him alone by the still lake. He brings his fingers up to his lips, still wet from their mixed concoction of semen and blood, and takes his time licking them off. The taste is enough to slowly fill the gaping cavern in his chest, one full of rage and violence, images of his niece's body beneath him, naked in the moonlight, flushed from head to toe, racing through his mind in a kaleidoscope of memories.
Perhaps it was enough. Her apology, those saccharine words that dripped from her tongue like honey. He thinks maybe he can forgive her.
An eye for her innocence, for the blood that stains his cock and teeth.
*
a/n: this is crossposted to ao3 (user finalgrls)! kinda the darkest thing i’ve written so far, but it’s definitely the work im proudest of. i’d LOVE any feedback, even if it’s negative <3 i hope u enjoyed!
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#house of the dragon#dark!aemond targaryen x reader#female!lucerys velaryon x aemond targaryen#lucemond#aemond targaryen fanfiction
196 notes
·
View notes
Note
Have u ever done amab sevika getting her ass eat or her being really needy for her gfs strap?
hehehe, i've done sub-top amab ceo sevika, but i haven't done bottom ceo sevika yet!
disclaimer! im cis, so please lmk if there are any mistakes and ill fix it asap!
men and minors dni
"when was the last time you got high?" you ask.
sevika looks up from her book with an eyebrow raised as she shifts her attention to you on the other side of bed. you've got a mischievous look in your eye, and it makes her smile.
"why?" she asks. you shrug.
"i dunno. i've known you for about a year now, and we've been dating for a few months, but i just realized i've never seen you high." you say. sevika considers this, chewing on her cheek before she speaks.
"it's been a while. probably since before i became ceo." she says. you hum.
"we should probably do something to change that." you tease. sevika smiles, throwing her book onto her bedside table before reaching over and pulling you into her arms, curling her body around yours.
you giggle as she adjusts your body, waiting for her to get comfortable before you wrap your arms around her.
"how's this weekend sound?" you ask. sevika nods against your tits.
"you gonna smoke me out?" she asks. you giggle.
"no, i don't want to stink your place up. i'll get us edibles, it'll be fun." you say. sevika just hums as she nuzzles against you, ready to go to sleep.
"sounds like a plan, baby." she mumbles. you snort and elbow her.
"don't fall asleep, you didn't turn the lights off yet!"
sevika groans dramatically as she pulls herself off of you and over to her little nightstand. she flicks the lamp off, then jumps back on top of you, both of you giggling as you adjust in each other's arms.
you guys share a chocolate bar on saturday morning.
sevika swears that she doesn't feel anything for the first two hours, and you just roll your eyes at your stubborn girlfriend.
by the time lunch rolls around, though, she's definitely starting to feel it. you can tell.
her eyes are hooded, and a soft smile's taken over her features. she's still in her sleep-wrinkled pajamas, and when she starts giggling at nothing, you know it's kicked in.
you're no better than her, but you're a little more used to the feeling. you grin as you watch sevika snicker, nudging her with your toe.
"you feeling it?" you ask. sevika smiles at you.
"nah." she says. you burst into laughter.
"yeah fuckin' right!" you laugh. sevika smiles a goofy grin at you and she crawls across the couch to flop on top of you, nuzzling her nose against your neck. you hum as you start scratching her scalp.
"mmm... you're so warm..." she hums as she slides her hand under your shirt to grope your tits. you giggle.
"you're cute." you sigh.
"you're cute. everything feels so good right now." sevika sighs happily. "thanks for getting me high."
you laugh. "anytime, baby." you promise, kissing her scalp.
you enjoy the moment for a while. sunlight is seeping through the windowed walls of sevika's penthouse, bathing the two of you in warmth and light. you're feeling floaty and content, and there's nowhere you need to be, nothing you need to do. the break is nice.
but after a while, sevika's breath starts to even out, and you know she's on the verge of falling asleep. you'd be happy to take a mid-afternoon weekend nap with your girl, but you don't want the edible to go to waste.
"hey." you say, nudging her from where she lays on top of you. she grunts against you. "don't sleep. we should do something fun." you say. sevika grunts again. "we could watch tv?" you suggest. sevika shakes her head. "i could make you a snack?" this gets her attention, and she lifts her head up from your tits to consider this.
you watch in adoration as sevika hazily tries to make up her mind about what she wants to eat, gnawing on her bottom lip while she thinks. you can't help but reach up and cup her cheek as she considers your offer. she leans into it automatically, nuzzling your palm.
an impish expression takes over her face as her eyes catch on yours, and she smiles. "what do i need a snack for when i've already got you?" she asks. you giggle. "get it?" she asks, giggling herself. "'cause you're a snack, babe." she explains. you laugh.
"i got it sev." you say. she grins, and swoops down to press her mouth against yours.
she's more uncoordinated than usual, and you are too. time's moving slower than usual, and it feels like you could build a whole life in the span of your kiss.
you hum happily as you wrap your arms around your girlfriend, dragging her closer and closer to you until she's flat on top of you, slowly grinding her hips against yours.
when you finally pull away from her lips, you gasp for are, suddenly aware of how long you'd been kissing. "should we--" you cut yourself off with a gasp as sevika starts to suck a hickey into your neck. "should we go to the bedroom?" you ask.
sevika doesn't answer you with words. instead, she shoves her arms under your ass, then pulls up off the couch, carrying you to the bedroom with her head still buried against your neck.
you giggle and wrap your limbs around her body. at the sound of your laughter, sevika starts to giggle too, and by the time she throws the two of you onto the bed, you've both dissolved into a fit of laughter.
"fuck, where did you get that edible?" sevika laughs. you grin, taking advantage of her giggly, pliant state to pin her to the bed as you straddle her.
"seamus makes 'em once a month." you say. sevika falls into another round of laughter at the secret-- her nerdiest, awkwardest accountant is a huge fucking stoner.
"i should fire him." she giggles. you laugh.
"what for!?"
"for not givin' me one of these before." she says. you chuckle, and sit back on your haunches to watch your girlfriend laugh.
she's so pretty. you're high and she looks like... like a sunset. or the ocean. or your favorite movie. you just can't pull your eyes away.
she's got her head thrown back as she laughs, her eyes crinkled up and her gap-tooth on full display.
her shirt's ridden up a bit, the hem resting over her bellybutton, just high enough for you to see the first few inches of her happy trail. her abs are contracting with each of her laughs, her hands are scrunched up into the blankets beneath her, and you're suddenly overcome with lust.
it hits you like a truck. you've been turned on since she started kissing you, but now you're ravenous. you can't think beyond the woman in front of you, and you're dying to show her what she does to you.
she's still giggling, wiping tears from her eyes, and you surge forward, tearing at her shirt.
sevika gasps at your sudden desperation to get her naked, but you shut her up by shoving your fingers in her mouth before she can even ask. she moans as you tear at her pants with your free hand, your mouth otherwise occupied with sucking on her tits.
sevika's shivering beneath you, moaning around your fingers and trying to kick her pajama pants off. you pull off of her tit with a pop, taking your fingers out of her mouth so you can sit up and hover over her.
her eyes are blown and big, and she seems to have forgotten she has arms, her hands clutching the blanket beneath her instead of reaching up to grope you like they usually do.
"can i make you feel good?" you ask. sevika gulps and nods.
"yes please." you grin-- sevika's kinda subby when she's high. you think fondly, tucking that information away for later.
"tell me what you want."
"your mouth." she whimpers. you grin, kissing her on the cheek before you quickly trail kisses down her chest, taking a second to lovingly bite at each of her tits before you lick all the way down her happy trail, tugging her boxers off as you go.
sevika has such a pretty dick. you could look at it all day long, honestly. you feel yourself clench around nothing as you watch it flop out of her boxers, eager to be free, and smack her abs.
her hips are squirming beneath you, but she's patient as you study her. her cock's twitching in time with her heartbeat, and a tiny little pool of pre-cum's forming on her abs. you lick your lips.
"i love you." you sigh. sevika whimpers, and her dick spurts a little bit more pre. you grin.
"i love you too." she whines. you kiss her hip.
"say please." you say, just because you've never seen her so sweet and compliant in bed before, and you wanna see how far you can take it.
"please please please ple--"
"i got you, baby." you cut her off. she sighs in relief, and you smile, pressing a kiss to the tip of her dick. she twitches and whines, and you decide to stop teasing her, finally taking her into your mouth.
sevika cries in relief, and you reach up to intertwine your fingers with hers. she squeezes your hand.
you sink your head down, taking her a good six inches before pulling back up and trying again. with a few bobs of your head, you manage to relax enough to take her all the way. she whines, a pathetic, high pitched thing, and you blink up at her. she gasps as your eyes meet.
your drool starts to collect around her shaft, and you pull off to jack her off for a second while you breathe. you smile at her.
"you taste amazing." you sigh. sevika shivers, humping her hips up into the air and widening her legs. you laugh, taking the hint, and put your mouth back on her cock.
she fucks your mouth with a few quick thrusts, and you gag, caught off guard. eventually she settles back down, letting you pull off and glare at her. she just giggles.
fine. if she wants to play dirty, you can play dirty.
you duck down and suck her balls into your mouth, and sevika gasps, her legs scrambling while her thighs twitch.
"fuck! cut it out!" she whines.
"why? you gonna cum already?" you tease. she huffs, digging her nails into your hand, squirming beneath you.
you would go on teasing her if your mind didn't just screech to a halt as you catch a glimmer of something between her legs.
"what the fuck was that?" you growl as you spread and pin her legs to the bed. she gasps, sitting propped up on her elbows so she can gawk at you.
"what?" she asks, panicked. you can't answer-- too busy taking in the mindbogglingly hot image of a pretty pink butt-plug in your girlfriend's ass. without your words readily available, you just answer sevika's question by tugging on the little jewel.
she gasps and collapses on the bed, her eyes rolling back in her skull. "fuck i forgot i put that there." she says. you giggle.
"you forgot?" you tease, suddenly able to talk again. sevika reaches up to hide her face, clearly embarrassed. you bite her thigh and she jolts.
"i put it in this morning." she explains. "weed makes me..." she trails off.
you grin at the half-revelation and tug at the plug again, watching in fascination as her dick jumps.
"can i fuck you?" you ask.
sevika moans, her hips flying off the bed, and you giggle.
"is that a yes?"
"please!" she cries.
"get on all fours, i'll go put the strap on."
sevika scrambles to follow your directions, but you stop her before she can get far. "wait!" you call. she freezes, and you duck down to lick up the little pool of pre that had formed on her abs, then kiss the skin. "okay, you can go now." you say. sevika grins, and you kiss her cheek as you scramble off the bed to get strapped up.
you fumble with your harness, watching as sevika slowly, seductively turns over on bed before lifting her hips up to present her ass to you. you laugh.
"you're such a slut." you chastise. sevika giggles as she rests her head against her folded forearms.
"you like me like this." she says. you giggle and nod.
"damn right i do." you say as you crawl behind her, smacking her ass and watching her jump.
she wiggles it at you tantalizingly, and you smile at the sight. you grab the base of her plug, giving it a tug and giggling at the way her thighs twitch, before pulling it out all the way.
you groan at the sight of sevika's hole, gaping for a few moments before winking closed.
"i'm so in love with you." you sigh. sevika giggles.
"i love you t--oh!" she cries as you stick your tongue into her ass as far as it can go. sevika's hips fall toward the bed, but you grip them in your hands, keeping her steady so you can bury your face in her ass.
"oh my god, oh my god, fuck, fuck, please, i love you so much, please!" sevika begs as you suck and kiss her rim sloppily.
"please what?" you ask. sevika groans, shifting backwards to press herself against your face again. you groan as she smothers you with her ass, her legs spreading farther and farther on the bed until she's practically limp against it while you hold her up by the hips.
"p-please fuck me, i wanna cum on your cock but you're gonna-- you're gonna, fuck right there!" she cries.
you pull away for a quick breath. "get the lube." you demand before diving back in.
sevika cries, shakily smacking the bedside drawer for the lube bottle, then tossing it behind her before collapsing face first on the sheets. you just sink down with her, your tongue buried in her ass, getting even higher off the sweet sounds of her whimpers and whines.
"you need fingers?" you ask when you finally pull away, lubing up your strap. sevika shakes her head urgently.
"no, fuck no, 's why i had the plug in, please-- just need you, just need your cock, baby." she rambles against her pillow. you laugh and smack her ass one more time.
you don't tease her much more. using one hand to spread her ass and the other to line the strap up, you slowly sink into your girlfriend, groaning as you watch your strap disappear into her inch by inch.
when you bottom out, you sigh gustily. sevika picks her head up from the mattress, the blanket between her teeth as she moans.
"you okay?" you whisper.
you don't get an answer. instead, sevika jumps up on her knees and pushes her hips and ass up in the air, taking your hips with her. you gasp as she starts fucking herself backwards on your strap, a loud, smacking noise starting to echo through the bedroom.
"fuck fuck, please fuck me, i need you to fuck me, i need--"
you cut her off with a hand to the back of her neck as you push her against the mattress, starting to pound into her. sevika squeals, half laughter half moan as you fuck her.
"like this?" you grunt out. sevika nods into the pillow beneath her.
"yes, yes, yes--"
"fuck, i love you. you're so fucking hot, i love you so fucking much, i'm gonna cum so hard--"
"inside me." sevika suddenly demands. you nearly cum at the words. instead, you flop forward to plaster your chest against sevika's back, nodding against her shoulder.
"of course, baby. of course. want me to knock you up, huh?" you ask.
it's risky, you've never teased about sevika's breeding kink when she's on bottom, but it pays off incredibly fucking well if the way sevika suddenly clenches around your strap and growls is any indication.
you're both sweaty and sticky, huffing for air as you rut into one another.
you're so high, you don't know if it's sevika or the edible or a bit of both, but you're pretty sure you're higher than you've ever been. it feels like you're melting into her, melting into the bed, into the earth, slow and gentle and warm like honey. you've never felt so warm in your life.
"i'm gonna-- baby--"
"you gonna cum?" you ask. sevika nods. "good, it'll help the pregnancy take." you grunt.
sevika suddenly gasps, shivers, then goes completely limp against the bed. you continue to fuck into her as she cums into the bedsheets below, until you're cumming in her ass and collapsing on top of her.
you're pretty sure you don't fall asleep... there's ten minutes there where you're both trying to catch your breath and find your words again after your orgasms where you might have drifted off, but you think it's just the edible making your mind... silent.
eventually, though, you manage to speak.
"you okay?" you mumble. sevika bursts into giggles beneath you.
"i didn't know i had a breeding kink like that." she says. you giggle.
"it's hot, right?" you ask. she nods, and you lift your face up just enough to kiss the knob of her spine. "i need to get you high way more fucking often." you mumble. sevika snorts.
"you just want to top more."
"yeah, i do, and you always manage to seduce me out of it when you're sober. i need you stupid so i can have my way with you." you say. sevika shivers again and you grin, biting her shoulder. "you like it-- don't act like you don't. you're laying in the proof."
sevika giggles. "i love it." she admits shyly. you grin, pulling out of her and kissing her shoulder when she cringes, before helping her turn over and out of her puddle of cum.
"i love it too. you're real cute when you let someone else be the boss for a while." you say. sevika giggles.
"you're the only one i ever met competent enough to boss me around." she replies.
you laugh, then swoop down to kiss her again.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved
158 notes
·
View notes
Note
Fem reader and 2009 orrr 2007 Tom try be quiet on tour bus 😜 you can include any type of smut 🥰🥰
Tysm ily 😘
Secrecy
a/n: this was my oldest ask that i left rotting in the submissions box so im doing it since u guys r starving or somehting idk (i havent been posting bc im lazy and all i do is think ab getting drunk or high every weekend🤔🤔🤔ALSO FINALS)
LETS BEGIN!!!!
warnings: nsfw, p in v, dom!tom, public s€x, petnames
You had a stupid drunk idea and made a bet with Gustav and Tom that you would come to their next tour with them on the tour bus. Worst idea ever! Youve never been so bored for hours on end, theres nothing to do, the bus stinks and youre super hungry.. also horn-
Youve been driving around for the past 4 hours , trying to get to the next place, however its taking long. Its getting hot in the bus, and theres no airconditioner…
You and Tom are sitting next to eachother on one of the bunk beds, Tom is trying to lighten up the mood by joking around but its obviously not working. He gives up, laying down on his back.
Hes wearing striped pyjama pants. Doesnt sound too hot, but is the hottest thing hes ever worn.. atleast to you, since youre ovulating.. obviously.
He groans as he moves around, making you drool with excitement..
He takes one look at you and already notices the situation, he pulls you down with him.
Luckily its as if all the band members are programmed to get the fuck out whenever something dirty happens, they start to go out of the bedroom into the kitchen of the bus.
Tom smirks at you and glances down at your pussy.
Whats wrong baby? he asks sarcastically as if he doesnt know what your problem actually is.
You grind yourself against him for the smallest spark, just to feel something. Please.. i need it so bad, Tom..
Need what? he replies, teasing the actual fuck out of you. But he doesnt get to enjoy that much, since you start palming him, giving him a taste of his own medicine.
Oh come on now.. he groans, trying to keep his cool, but you can already see sweatbeads forming on his forhead. Hes obviously already close.
You knew he doesnt last long. It was a good part about him though, cause with him.. neither did you.
He eventually gives up and tucks his pyjama pants down, his cock springing up.
His precum already leaking from his tip, he slides your shorts down, aswell as your panties and quickly grabs a blanket ontop of you two.
He guides his cock into you, making you moan like crazy.
He was massive, not just lenght wise, but he was wide..
His veiny cock bouncing in and out of you made you feel even more wet, just the thought of this situation could make you cum.
He rubbed your waist, trying to get you more comfortable as he put one hand on your stomach , so he could feel when he hit your walls.
The joy couldnt last long tho, as Georg barged in, making him slip out of you.
Whys there a blanket on you guys? its like 30 degrees out.. boiling hot
———————————————————————
a/n : ALRIGHTTT THATS IT MY HANDS HURT BYE😇🦄🎀
#bill kaulitz#tokio hotel#georg listing#gustav schäfer#tom kaulitz#bill kaulitz x reader#smut#bill kaulitz smut#tokio hotel smut#bill kaulitz fanfic#tom kaulitz x y/n#tom kaulitz x you#tom kaulitz x reader#tom kaulitz smut#tom kaulitz fanfic#tom kaulitz tokiohotel
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
Day 13 - Socialization Day
*sniff sniff* P-U! What do I smell? Did somebody forget to shower again?
I looked back and forth and there it was... the green plume of stink emanating from Hans' (IS) armpits. Yep, somebody forgot to shower again. This might be TDS, but come on, Hans!
I made sure to wipe that smirk off his face by banishing him to the shower.
Anyway, onto the other contestants... Coffee (IS) was feeling rather down today and didn't feel like socializing. She decided to spend her day alone by reading a book in the makeup trailer.
Toni (RB) was also feeling rather upset because of the elimination of Neal yesterday. Liana (RB) was quick to notice her friend's sour mood and lent her an ear and a shoulder 💖 Liana is such a sweetheart 😭 She reminded Toni of this one important detail about TDS: "It's just a game."
It was a happier and sillier time for Drew (IS) and Flo (IS). They laughed over funny videos for a while and... since their friendship bar is completely maxed out, became best friends forever! 💖 These two have made other friends besides each other, but... there's just something extra special these two have for each other that makes them inseparable!
And speaking of other friends, when bedtime rolled around Flo spent some time talking to Coffee! They had a cute late-night chat after everyone else fell asleep.
Today's Confessional: Toni Stroud
"Neal... If you're watching this, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I didn't want you to leave... Granted, I didn't want Willabelle to leave either, but... You did better in the challenge than all 3 of us. Out of everybody, you definitely shouldn't have been the one to leave..."
"I hope you don't hold anything against us... If you need somebody to blame, blame the stupid host for kicking you out. I really hope you can kick that comeback challenge's butt and come back into the game!"
@ethicaltreatmentofcowplants @riverofjazzsims @simsinfinitylt @bloomingkyras @witheringscreations
@akitasimblr
#TDS2#Hans Somme by ethicaltreatmentofcowplants#Coffee Bean by riverofjazzsims#Toni Stroud by simsinfinitylt#Liana Morris by bloomingkyras#Drew Pinto by witheringscreations#Flo Harper by akitasimblr
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
авантура Цанмома у Београду
avantura Canmoma u Beogradu, or, the adventure of canmom in Belgrade
it's another one of these 'travels of canmom' posts! last time we went to Gamescom in Germany. this time I went to Belgrade for a company event.
I can't actually talk that much about this one because the main thing I was doing was cooking up game pitches for what we might work on next (kind of like a game jam but just for concepts), and while that was very interesting and I learned a lot about how to get ideas across in limited time and make judgements about what videogames might sell and how long they'd take to make and such... it is however probably not something I can talk in too much detail about yet, because we might end up making these games, so I can't be like 'the theme was x and we pitched y'.
so instead I will mostly talk about Belgrade! and show some of the photos I took that don't have game developers wandering around in them.
that's Nikola Tesla airport. did you know that Nikola Tesla was from modern-day Serbia (at the time, the Austrian Empire)? I didn't but I do now!
most of the week was spent in this fancy villa...
...which is called the Villa Saga Paradiso. it must once upon a time have been some stinking rich family's holiday home, because it's a super weird building, with such features as a pool table, swimming pool, tennis court, library, and even a weird kinda stage thing on the top floor. definitely full of weirdly shaped rooms and interesting old furniture, it felt kinda like a place a moomin might hole up. so here's some pics of the place.
also the view was kinda insane...
also! here's a pic of a Serbian snail that came out rather nice:
anyway on Saturday we went into the city centre to do some more touristy shit. I went to the two places in Belgrade that presumably everyone goes, namely the Fortress and the Temple. but I also got some shots of the city centre...
(also a tram shot for the trams girls in the audience)
so as you can see, the vibes of central Belgrade are p Southern European sorta architecture, lots of pale stone walls and tiled roofs and the like. but you also have these crazy cool looking tower blocks from the communist period...
...which were unfortunately quite hard to photograph out of a moving car window.
But yeah, we were on our way to the fortress.
Belgrade Fortress has a pretty storied history. At one point it simply was Belgrade; even after that, it's been occupied by variously the Byzantines, Turks and Austrians, who all made various additions and modifications to the fortress, and sometimes accidentally blew it up. Nowadays it's become a kind of park and tourist area, surrounded by the river, and thus some pretty impressive views...
as well as various things that tourists might like to look at, like statues of dinosaurs and tanks, and people dressed Historically.
apparently you're only allowed 30 images in a post, so let me make another one for the Temple, which was the craziest building I saw, and the butt statue...
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hello, Tumblr!
Me and my friend came up with the idea of something called
U G L Y P U N K
I think slightly similar terms might exist, but...
U G L Y P U N K is a movement that centers around celebration and/or acceptance of very stigmatized disabilities and conditions (mental, intellectual, neurodevelopmental, and physical) and their gross and (coventionally) ugly consequences. Examples: looking unconventionally attractive because of facial paralysis, being unable to shower and stinking because of severe depression, having intense trouble managing anger in relationships because of intermittent explosive disorder (IED), needing to cry daily and having daily meltdowns because of BPD, being permanently/temporarily jobless because of disability etc. (Whatever you want to put in here <3)
As a general, U G L Y P U N K is:
- neutral recovery (people can choose to do what they want)
- anti the idea of thought crimes
- very anti ableism and microagressive jokes ("go outside", making fun of "chronically online" ppl, any kind of jokes based on physical appearance)
- proship
- pro contradictory labels
We might do a flag for this, might not, it's a spin the wheel kind of situation. /silly
31 notes
·
View notes
Note
Moot game!! Ur closest moots and things u love ab them!!
@07sleepykatz — older sister, matches each other's freak every day of the week (#BARSS), best friend also she does some dumb stuff so it's fun to laugh at her everyday :p
@vlaeaex — fav girl ever, same humour, same major, same mbti WE'RE LITERALLY TWINS??? GOODBYE, matching in almost everything!! vv calm at first but gets loud later (v much like me again) ILHSM
ceci / @/allurecile — MY WIFEY like i swear if soulmates with the red strings existed it wld be us honestly my favourite person, the pucca to my garu and rina to my ning2 and also her romanization spelling as so humourous too WTV I LOVE HER
@mioons — idk what to say bcs i hate her. wtf she has quite ok humour and she's easy to talk to ig but who cares bcs she stinks and she's v comfortable to be around. wtv
@minthoons — first ever mootie, she's rlly approachable and sweet and almost carries this older sister vibe about her! she also seems like a rlly loyal person and is actually the sweetest person ever ^0^
@fleurre — personality is FIREEEEE along with her movie/book taste, gives very much fun older sister vibes which i LOVE, once again rlly approachable and sweet and easy to talk to!! never an awkward convo w her^^
@zhounauts — ok wait i thought she was rlly shy at first but when you actually talk to her she's so exciting and bright and her humour is TOP TIER ISTG like got me lowk wheezing everytime we chat ALSO we basically share the same past and hobbies and feeling at the moment so she is MY SOULMATE
@onlyjjong — an absolute cutie like if i thought i was cute, she's 10000000x more cuter something that i love abt her is how she's vv calm and friendly at first and also HUMOUR!!!! her humour matches mine like is somebody gnna match my freak? and she does it so perfectly THANK YOU
#﹑the daily mail#ㅤㅤㅤ𝗁𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅𝗌 . . .#srry if i missed anyone + unwanted tags ><#i love all my mooties :p
14 notes
·
View notes
Note
hihi do u have any dally hcs?? :p
I have so stinking many it ain't even funny, so I'm just gonna link them here
We got his backstory ones Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3. Those ones are real long though since I just let myself write everything in my brain.
If you just want general ones then here
He's one of my favorite characters and has so much potential so I had a lot to write about him. Sorry if it's a lot to take in!
Though for fun I will add a couple here that are smaller :)
Buck and Dally were actually real close. Buck wasn't quite a father figure but he was definitely a very uncle-like guy to Dally. Dallas never went to the length to admit it but it always reminded him of his mom's brothers and sisters and a part of him always felt at home when Buck would leave him something or ask if he's doing ok.
Him and Steve were messing around together and fought a group of SOCs who were ganging up on a random girl and her boyfriend. While doing so Dally stole a cowboy hat off of one of the guys' heads and wears it to every rodeo.
It's almost surprising to see Dally without a bruise or scratch from how many fights he gets himself into. Sometimes he offended a SOC or someone from another gang, other times he just felt like it. Or someone just looked at him wrong
Thanks so much for the ask though!
#the outsiders#dallas winston#starlight's rambling#the outsiders headcanons#the outsiders headcanon#original content
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
The dream again. Just like the last five days. Dreams that haunt them in their daytime. Only now... now it feels more real. The groan of wooden planks under their shoes, shoes made too immaculate to be from here. Heavy, labored breathing from neither of them. A hunched over creature, feasting on a corpse. It notices them. Of course it does. Why shouldn't it? Their fear stinks up the air. They bolt, something almost in unison. They have gotten good at this part. They swerve around the beast, and crash into the doors shoulder first. They stumble outside, grab each other's hands and run. Angered howling behind them. Giacomo breathes heavy. Another door. They can do it. They can do it. Another door. Gate. Exit. Thing. They get it open. The air is laden with coppery smell, thick enough you can taste it.
"Get the lever." Giacomo motions. Ferro nods, lunges. There is a shambling mess of a man up ahead, more than ready to hit them. The kra-chunk of the lever is loud, loud enough the shambling man turns. the ladder lowers, just enough that they can jump at it. There is a bellow of anger as they do so, just about escape the weapon the man is hurling at them.
"You alright?" Ferro wheezes when they get up the ladder, practically collapse onto the grimy floor.
"You know, I could be better. But we ain't dead, so I take that." Giacomo turns slightly. A single lantern, unlit, in front of a window. They face each other, nod. Then reach for the lantern. It ignites, the light eerie and pale. As sight goes dark, they hear a soft voice, words nearly unintelligible. A voice welcoming them. A voice they know.
A n d
t h e y
w a k e
u p
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
How haikyu boys would act today
~If haikyu boys were highschoolers today how would they act? This i purely based on my opion ofc and if your guys like this please send me more charcters.~
Includes- Atsumu, bokuto, kurro, kenma,
Bokuto-
Says gyatt on the regular to random girls (Borderline sexual harrasment) or uses it in everyday language like "Ive gyatt to get to class guys"
Definitely used to naruto run in middle school to all of his classes
so annoying in class and when the teacher says something hell immdentaily throw his hands up and say he didnt even do anything. He might even ask the quiet girl in the corner if he did anything and when she doesnt respond he responds for her like "She agrees with me you just cant hear her"
used to say sheesh along with the lip biting and pose
"im not like other guys ive seen the notebook" when it was probably akkashi who was watching it and bokuto came in the room for 0.2 seconds
I think him and kuroos jokes would be either racist, homophobic, sexiest or all
used to wear the iconic black savage shirt with the red border around the font
he makes so much fun of the girls he likes
Atsumu-
one of those rich boys with the moms that are inlove with them and think he cant do any wrong especially to women
big slur user especially to your face. if he doesnt like you hell say them or hell just say them like its no big deal
owns a speed boat that he illegal drives and host partys on. hell post on his snap story being like 'this party is such bruh p/u'
cries to his mom
punches walls
used to dress and act like josh richards and noah beck in 2021
a literal women hater like os much its hard to belive hes not guy but hes always objectifying them so hes not
used to moan in middle school thinking it was funny
duck lips with the peace sign all the time and hes being completley serious
in a frat when hes in college
peaked in highschool
Kenma-
when speaking to a women hell ask her what her favortie game/anime is and then ask her to name 3 charchters and when she does he will immdeantiley discredit those charcters. Also he will call the anime she chose super popular so theirs no way shes an actual fan
smells like shit an stays up all night so there bags under his eyes. his hair is so greasy you could cook with it
"erm actually- goku solos every single anime verse"
call people racial slurs on the games only
follows that chicki guy who dances everyday until he gets a girlfriend
victim of the 2020 bleach phase
most horrible genshin impact player he mains mona, Rosiaria, bediou, itto and bought all the the outfits that came with them.
has a hatsume miku body pillow
since he doesnt shower he will just coat himself in axe body spray
grows out of everything and peaks right after college
Kuroo-
i honestly had no idea what to say about this man so i tried my best i belive this man is a sexy angel from the bottom of my heart so i had to truly think
used to stink like kenma but grew out of it in middle school
when he gets rejected he'll post 'nice guys always finish last'
acts dumb but is really smart
calls double dates 2 mans
wear his hat backwards with the sides of his hair sticking from under
white airforce energy
slept with everyone but somehow hes not slut shamed
with call girls whores when his body count is double theirs
doesnt believe in womens rights but also doesnt want to become a man so hes just insecure
in volleyball he will try to spike as hard as he can and purposefully hit someone in the face
became a nice respectable man because i believe his mother doesnt play like that and taught him a lesson at his old age for repecting women
secretly a munch and whorships his girlfriend acting like a baby in private and then an asshole in pubic
"this ones for you babe" the it goes out giving you the ick
poses in the gym mirror for his snap streaks
used to follow andrew tate and all those man quotes before his mom told him to cut it out
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
p..-pookie…..wh-why arent.. y-you.. answering me???.... *bites ur left arm*..um..- i-i... uh..- i-its not what it looks...like..!! *i trembled as i looked down and backed away.* t-this is not me... THUS IS NOT ME..!! *i looked up to see the the full moon and it was brighting.* p-pookie...ru-run away...from me...!! *I shouted as i kneeled to the ground* AGH..!!! RU...-RUN.!! I-IM...T-TOXKC...TH-THIS IS NOR ME..!! *i transformed into a dark alpha wolf that eats peoples alive because its a wolf that can walk* RAAH....!!!! I-.... * looked to my hands realizing that i did something wrong.* No...- no...no!!!.... this... THIS IS NOT...HAPPENING..!!!??. *i shouted as i felt a pain on every part of my body.* AGH..!! I-IM…D-DYINF.!!! *i blinnked then dozzed off.* rah.... roar..!! wheres fhat littlw btch.??
*the demon walks to find a person because its hungry* where is it... *the demon sang ugly because hes ugly ans hia dkc stinks*
WHY WONT YOU ANSWER..... ME..??!?!?..
*the demon shouted.who knew that u were not answering me.* ANSWER ME..! *i cried and sobbed inside* hush baby....im ur alpha...i will polroetct yiu.... *the demon starts to find that peraon who was not answering me. * where are you snookie poooka.. beoski.....???! *the wolf smelled something stinky.ans it smiled like you* aha.!! ¡ found you...
Are you okay
Wtf
Ive been laughing at this with my friend for an hour 😭😭😭
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wishlist:
Gimme that ride or die friendship where the greeting to each other is “die” and the natural response is, “naw, u first”; the one where they get into bar fights bc one or both of them are absolute dipshits and if one of them starts something, u know ur obligated no-thoughts-head-empty-style in getting in there urself no matter how stupid it is. It’s always open season to bully tf outta each other. They’re tired as all hell of the other, but who else is gonna have the ol’ slugger’s back? Lowkey, highkey(?), it’s the sort of, “aw, for fuck’s sake, i’m probably gonna die with your stinking corpse next to me u stupid bastard.” (For the modern verse and deadlock, possibly for the period western verse too i sppose??)
i am always looking for discussions on the nature of religio.n with this character, whether your muse has religious trauma or sincerely practices faith; let me come into ur inbox with that "are you praying again? How raw are your knees"
Adrenaline mistaken for love; ["love is when you’re wrestling for control of the gun and there’s only one bullet left. love is when you grab the knife theyre swinging at you by the blade and look into their eyes and laugh. love is when someone is so obsessed with you they have to kill you."]
Hateships, but we will have to discuss this; Cole doesn't harbor hate for long. He'll dislike you, disagree with you, but can remain cordial. I've yet to knuckle into what he can't swallow. He's less raw and vulnerable at the age of 37-39, so saddling into this will mean either working out histories or writing with a younger variant.
Frenemies is p fun.
Bounty character? meets bounty hunter. They bitch at each other.
And in the reverse: somebody coming after his ridiculously priced bounty, lord help him.
Bounty rivalry?! Bickering over who gets the cash and losing the bastard in the midst of it. Having to work together to get said asshole back.
Escort, recon, undercover or guard mission, hello 👋
Im always down for blackwatch era ocs? Gang era ocs? Hell yea, hell yea.
Kiddo cole is so fckin funny to me, if u want to deal w this pissy punk of a teenager, pls, god, let me know. No weird shit tho, i beg.
the nikk.i la.uda to his jam.es hunt,,,,
Roadtrip threads
Threads where he’s still in prison. Modern, Period, or an AU where he never accepted BW.
i need more threads of cole acting as or during when he was a gang enforcer (modern)
3 Godfathers/Tokyo Godfathers plot for Modern or Western (and i suppose it can work for Post-Apocalypse or OVW between either him as a runaway or him post-BW). The idea is that the muses find an abandoned child and take up the mantel of trying to take care of it while trying to find their parent. The important part of this is that there is a certain level of underqualification to the muses that results in a sort of chaos. I'm not looking for domestic, fluffy end game for this; the bulk would be on exploring nonconventional guardianship. Trying to do the right thing despite being seemingly built for everything but. The original short story involves the trio all dying by the time they deliver the child to the safe harbor of a town.
Not so much an active wishlist but a possible dynamic for modern: The first responder who found him beneath the farm equipment when he lost his arm, or the physical therapist that helped to fit him with a prosthetic.
Dynamics and threads in which he is still in prison for Modern would be interesting, whether your character is also an inmate, a worker of volunteer, or somebody who is dealing with this man making a getaway.
would like to explore further ak.ande’s attempt to suggest talon was an option; hell, it’d be an interesting conversation to be had with other characters as well.
character specific:
pls,,, if u have a cassidy, lmk, let’s have them fight -- pls, i am so desperate to see them kick each other’s asses
The Wishlist Tag for Other Variants.
0 notes
Text
The Son of Neravarine
Sathlan Faloul’s toyhouse blurb turned into a short little backstory for him and how he got Teldryn before becoming the Neravarine
Tis a longer text so hiding it, but read below!!
ALSO SATHLAN, he has a visual now. He’s nothing fancy. Tired old man, too old to have a toddler to take care of but what can he do he’s a big softie. ALso u can see where Teldryn drew his inspiration in his later years :)c
(this is very summarized, not too fancily written bc its just a profile blurd...forgive me)
Sathlan Faloul was a journeying mercenary, doing work for coin around Morrowind, living a simple life in the wild. One night, he heard a woman crying out for help nearby, so he sprung onto his feet and headed towards the distressed voice. A Dunmer woman came out of the bushes, catching Sathlan off guard as she nearly crashed into him. In her distress. she handed him a small boy, a child just old enough to be on his feet. The woman hushed the wailing boy, giving him a smile so fond, so full of love and grief, before disappearing into the night, soon followed by figures in the night's shadows. Sathlan hid the boy, before pursuing the woman in hopes of helping her so she could have her boy back, but to no avail. She, along with those who followed her, vanished.
Sathlan saw the sun rising by the time he was heading back; cursing having forgotten about the boy. The kid, who he had learned was called Teldryn, had crawled out of the hiding spot, leaving Sathlan to look for him in slight panic. Luckily, he wasn't far and Sathlan grabbed him with him, to head to a nearby town. It would have been some days till they’d reach their destination, but he could find someone to care for the boy there. The journey there was eye opening for him. For one, he learned he had no patience for a kid, who was as stubborn as a mule at such a young age and already knew how to give him the stink eye. And second, that he had no idea how to actually cook. For others who didn't have a tolerance for his cooking at least.
Teldryn gave Sathlan a hard time, crying, whining, tossing his food, glaring, a whole array of things that made Sathlan hope he'd lost the boy earlier. But it was on the last days before their destination, when Sathlan realized the boy wasn't as bad as he'd believed. He didn't know how to deal with a traumatized kid and had barely thought about it the whole way to the town. It was when he realized Teldryn was imprinting onto the only person who tried to care for him, that Sathlan grew a small soft spot for the boy. On the final night, Teldryn came to lie down next to Sathlan, who didn't know what he wanted, until the kid was sound asleep. Sathlan laid awake, pondering his situation and the little Dunmer child that laid there, clutching his vibrant red scarf as he slept.
When they finally reached the town Teldryn was to stay in, Sathlan left him in an inn, while doing an odd job for the day for a shopkeep. It was nightfall when he returned for his reward and after his work was done, he looked to the inn where Teldryn was. Boy had probably eaten his belly full of better food, resting in a comfortable bed, thinking no more of his time in the wild. Some nice family would no doubt take him in. He was a sweet lad if you got past the stink eye. It was a somber thought: Turning away from the inn to leave the kid behind. Poor thing's been left twice now. It was for the better, he deserved a house and a family. The inn door opened, someone going inside for a drink no doubt. But Sathlan froze as he heard people yelling out from the building. "Teldryn, don't run outside!" "Come back in, Teldryn, let’s get you something to eat!" they hollered. While a small boy ran out onto the street amidst the few people wandering there. He was crying, wobbled steps cutting his voice as he ran away from those following him from the inn.
"Sathhan!" he cried. Sathlan's heart twisted. The little steps approached, before arms latched around his leg, tiny crimson eyes peering up at him, arms demanding to be lifted. For a moment Sathlan only gazed down at little Teldryn. He looked so afraid, yet he came to him instead of being around those nice people. What was he to do? Let them drag him back inside so he could watch Sathlan walk away? Teldryn hiccupped, crying ceased for the moment as he stood there, arms now at his sides as he waited for Sathlan to react. For a moment he thought he went to the wrong person, looking uncertain with tears welling his eyes and little round ears drooping downward. Sighing quietly to himself, Sathlan took off his helm and knelt to the kid. Teldryn grabbed onto him with a big hug, so afraid of letting go of him. Sathlan took the boy in his arms and headed back towards the inn. "I've got you, kid. Told you I'd be back soon, see? So dramatic..." he joked. "Let's get a good night's rest and head out in the morning, yeah? Got a delivery to make to Balmora, it’s a long way until we get another warm bed like this so enjoy it, alright? It's okay, I'm not going anywhere."
#the elder scrolls#tes#skyrim#teldryn sero#sathlan faloul#neravarine#morrowind#holds little teldryn and his full head of hair before he gets a mohawk#thats my boy#oh no my boy#father help#probably sathlan and teldryn a lot on their travels
346 notes
·
View notes