#the difference in his reaction to both of them is sending me

[misshuntereevee]

sylus likes when you maintain eye contact in the bedroom. this imagine is 100% inspired by this post. it made me have thoughts. so enjoy.

content: smut ( mdni )

“Look at me.”

He grunts the words out, his hand reaching down to grab your chin. You’ve just woken up and the both of you are taking advantage of Sylus’ morning excitement.

However, when your eyes rolled back in pleasure, and then shut he gave a tsk, followed by that statement.: Look at me.

It takes you a second to register what he says. He pauses while waiting, before repeating it, emphasizing each world with a savage thrust: "Look at me. "

Your eyes fly open, and you whine at him. "Sy!"

“That’s a good girl. Your eyes are so pretty, so soft…” he rasps. His hands are now gripping you everywhere now as you find yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

Sylus is like a beast, still rocking into you without mercy. His stamina and self control were amazing, and he often could fuck you through multiple orgasms. This morning seemed to be no different. He could feel you tightening around him.

"Good girl. Go ahead and come for me, alright? You've been so good, you deserve it." His mouth brushes over the shell of your ear as he rasps it to you. And just like that, you're clenching around him, a low pitched mewl coming out of your throat.

It makes him chuckle, but it's mixed with a groan. He always tells you that it's worth the self control to feel you tighten around him over and over again. As soon as he's fucked you through that orgasm, he flips you both over so that he's on his back.

"Ride me. And keep your eyes on me, beautiful. I want to see every reaction on that pretty little face. No matter how small." He smirks before playfully slapping your ass.

"I want you to take what you want," he says, "But if you close your eyes, I'll take over."

It's not a real threat, knowing that it'll still send you to the moon either way. But you nod at his demand, starting to rock your hips back and forth. He's already so big in general, but when you ride him, it makes him feel even bigger.

It's not long before you're working yourself to a frenzy on his cock. You notice a lot since he won't let you shut your eyes. It's almost infuriating how he seems almost unaffected. The key word, almost. There's little furrows of his brow, moments where his jaw twitches - struggling to remain a smirk... but he still manages to look coolly at you as you ride him.

"I'm so -- Sy," you whine, your hips whipping back and forth even faster now.

"Yes," he says, leaning up to suck at your nipples, even nipping gently at the underside of your breast. "Let me have it. Let me feel it... let go, take what you want. Take me."

His dirty commands send you over the edge. It's clear after your last orgasm that his restraint is holding on by a thread. Once you come down, he leans up to kiss you harshly.

"You like making me so lovesick, don't you?" He accuses in between words. It's teasing, along with nips and sucks along your neck. It's clear he's getting close, and the need to fuck you harder, rougher is setting in.

Once again, he flips you over, but this time, he withdraws from you. It's for the first time since you both woke up, and he tugs you so you're practically bending over the bed. "Want me to show you just how love sick you've made me, kitten?"

You nod, blissed out from your previous orgasms, and he growls, entering you to the hilt in one smooth motion. At this angle, he's pushing you up and down against the quilt. It''s rubbing against your clit as his cock pounds into you.

"Sylus!" You mewl, your hands looking for anything to hold onto. Instead of letting them find purchase, he takes them, pinning them behind your back as he continues to pound into you.

His thrusts are getting messy, and grunts are falling from his mouth in a symphony. You love the sounds he makes right before he finishes. It's enough to bring you to the brink of yet another orgasm.

"You're...you're so fucking impossible not to adore," he grunts, his thrusts speeding up even faster. Then, you feel him swell inside of you. You both come together, and he lets out a loud grunt as he pulls out, coming all over your stomach.

He collapses onto you for just a moment, and you both enjoy the intimacy before he's walking to the bathroom. He emerges with a washrag, cleaning up your backside. Once you're all taken care of, you both decide to spend the rest of the morning cuddling in bed. After all, after all that... who would want to leave the bed?

[montygatorguy]

okay here’s all my backstory stuff for the revival components

first of all i think that in the stex universe, trains can be born (through the same way as humans) or built (where they’re built into babies by machines in factories). and for electric trains, the latter is much more common. some electric trains do still have kids via regular birth (electra was one, for example), but most are created in the factories.

the factories are separated into two main parts, where the trains are actually built and an orphanage of sorts, where the engines or trucks live until they become adults or get adopted.

all four of electra’s components were built in factories, but only one of them was adopted, and that was killerwatt.

he got adopted as a baby by purse and krupp, who had actually never seen a security truck before taking him in. that’s why he’s both a bodyguard and a messenger to electra later in life, those were the things his dads taught him from their past jobs.

volta and joule were from the same factory despite being polar opposite in their jobs, they met when they were kids. joule used to try and pick fights with other trains there (because she was “hotheaded,” get it? haha) and when she tried to get on his nerves he just simply didn’t care, which led to her hanging around him more for a reaction. eventually they became friends and stuck together when they became adults and had to leave the factory.

wrench grew up on her own in a different factory, where she kept to herself thinking it would give her better chances when she grew up. if she didn’t really bond to anyone there, it’s be easier for her to be independent as an adult. although once she got out, she realized things would be a bit harder for her now that she never made any connections. she still ended up with electra and the other components, but her childhood made her more closed off than any of the others.

yeah that’s pretty much it. if you want me to yap more about them send me asks or somethin :p

[taemmin]

[omgeto]

☆ THRILL (h)ER! — SATOSUGU X READER

summary: when watching a scary movie with your two best friends, you cant help but hold onto them tight every time you get jumpscared. but as the night goes on and your fingers roam... wait, what movie were you watching again?

wc: 3.3k (its alll smut guys so give me a medal)

cw: double penetration, praising, slight degradation, gojo and geto bickering, fingering, dirty talk (?) and some fun loving you're their pretty little princess. afab!reader, MDNI

an: guys look I finally posted a fic for kinktober, yay me, I hope you like it since Id say the smut on this one hits different sooo give it a chance. also only big brains will understand the fic title.

KINKTOBER M.LIST.

your best friends, gojo and geto always have a way of making you feel right at home, especially when you find yourself in your favourite spot on the couch – sandwiched between them. geto's embrace is a gentle yet possessive one, his arms wrapped around you in a tender hold that radiates warmth, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your lower back.

to your side, gojo's long limbs seamlessly entwine with yours. your legs stretch over to meet him, creating an intimate tangle of limbs. his fingers trail leisurely up and down your thighs, their teasing caresses sending delightful shivers through your body. it's a familiar and electric sensation that's become an unspoken language among the three of you—one that hasn’t fully been enacted upon… yet.

"i don't know why you insist we watch this movie every year," geto complains, his gaze locked onto his b est friend, a playful frustration in his tone. "you're so predictable."

"oh, don't be a bore," gojo retorts, matching geto's glare before shifting his attention down to you. his voice is laced with mischief as he speaks to you. "you find it fun, don't you?" 

“what? do i like crappy slashers from the 80s with big titted damsels running from a shitly costumed killer?” you deadpan, your sarcasm evident. you could feel the vibration from geto as he lowly chuckles. gojo’s face forms a pout that prompts you to quickly add, “but i love them.”

gojo’s pout transforms into a triumphant grin as your admission earns you a playful nudge from him. “that’s my girl,” he exclaims, giving your thigh an excited rub as he turns on the movie.

geto, still chuckling softly, leans in closer. “well, i suppose if toru enjoys it, we can endure it one more time.” his words carry a hint of tenderness, his arm around you tightening ever so slightly, puling you closer into his embrace.                                                                            

you watch the movie in a comfortable silence, the only noise coming from the tv and gojo's oddly placed screams that you've come to expect every year. his over-the-top reactions to jump scares and gruesome scenes never fail to amuse you, and it's a source of endless entertainment for both you and geto.

geto, on the other hand, watches the movie with a more stoic expression, occasionally shaking his head at the implausible plot twists and unrealistic gore. His hand continues to rest on your thigh, his fingers now tracing soothing patterns as if to counterbalance the tension on the screen.

as the movie progresses, you notice how both gojo and geto steal glances at you when they think you're not looking, as their innocent touches progress into heavy petting. but there's a moment where you all pause, their movements stop, and you all look at each other as the loud sounds of exaggerated moans blare from the screen.

“i always forget this scene is in there,” gojo lies, with a snicker, an appreciative smile forming on his face as he watches the scene.gojo's arm remains draped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your arm, while geto's touch has grown increasingly intimate, his hand resting on your hip, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles.

“oh don’t bullshit satoru,” geto accuses, taking his hand off of you for a second to send a jab into gojo’s side, “i know you’re getting off on watching this ditzy blonde getting laid.”

“not true,” gojo retorts childishly, “i think there’s better sights to get off on, isn’t that right?” he finishes casting his eyes, not so subtly, over to you.

“well i can’t lie and say the sights aren’t… appealing,” geto grins his hands coming back on you, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“you two are such guys,” you laugh, trying to remain nonchalant even though on the inside the pace of your heart was quickening, and every touch of their fingers sends jolts straight to your core. “you’re focusing on the wrong things here.”

“and what should we be focusing on here?” geto murmurs at you, you couldn’t see his face but you knew a smirk was plastered across it. his challenge hangs in the air as you pause, hesitating as you scan the room, your eyes meeting gojo’s trying to gauge if they are thinking what you are. geto can sense your hesitation as he feels your breathing still as you lean against him, so he pulls his finger under your chin turning your head to face him. “let us focus on you, come here.”

you lean in, his lips enclosing on yours in a deep kiss, you turn your body almost straddling him so you could get better access. his tongue enters your mouth, as his hands work down your body, and as the kiss intensifies, you’re aware of gojo’s gaze on you. you extend an inviting hand toward him, flashing him a smile as you pull away from geto and set your lips on your other friend.

gojo groans as your lips work with his, and his hands go straight into his pants, fisting his dick that has been hard all night just at the sight of you. geto cascades kisses down your neck as he starts to pull your shirt up off of you, you gasp at the feeling of both of their hands and lips all over you.

“h-how long have you two been planning this one then, huh?” you grin, a laugh escaping through your moans, as you let geto get rid of your shirt, assisting gojo with taking off your pants. 

“how long have we known you?” geto responds rhetorically, and gojo nod in agreement, as they both take off their jogging bottoms, leaving you all sitting on the couch in your underwear. there is no more hesitation, or uncertainty between you three—you all know exactly what you want.

“so who gets to have me first?” you joke, your eyes darting between the two of them, their lustful eyes are unmistakable as they stare at your body, their dicks straining against their boxers ready to be suffocated by your tight pussy.

“i get to!” gojo sputters out quickly, but he’s not as swift as geto who’s already pulled you back onto him, his fingers pushing into you without any warning. your mouth parts, as you let out a whine, as his long digits give your pussy fast, relentless strokes, he adds another finger, smirking as your body buckles against his. “hey no fair!” gojo pouts, side eyeing geto, but he can’t help biting his lip as he hears your cunt squelch everytime his best friend shoves his fingers into it.

“don’t worry, ��toru,” geto reassures, his fingers curling up into you before he pulls it out swiftly, spreading your pussy apart and giving gojo a knowing look, “there’s room for the both of us.”

gojo eagerly drives his fingers into you from behind, his body pressing against yours as he charges your fingers into you. your moans increase as you feel a flurry of digits explore your pussy, gojo’s hand grips on his shoulder and geto hand holds your waist as they both tug your body back and forth in an attempt to get you closer to them.

“s-shit” you cry out, as you clench around their fingers, trying to keep them inside of you. you grind down against both of their fingers, your whimpers encouraging them to twist and push their fingers deeper into you.

“you see how much of a mess she gets for us?” geto asks gojo with a low chuckle, and gojo nods, smiling as the wetness of your pussy allows for his fingers to slide into you with ease, “press down on her clit. hard.”

“don’t tell me what to do,” gojo mutters, but he does it anyway. his thumb going straight to your clit, pushing down on it, smirking as you groan your back arching right into him. 

“see i told you,” geto chimes, laughing as gojo glares at him. geto’s focus shifts to you, as he pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to your mouth, he holds your chin, placing his thumb on your bottom lip as he raises his eyebrows at you for permission. you nod lazily, opening your mouth, accepting two of his fingers —which are drenched in your juices. “‘toru, you gonna finish her off for me.”

gojo smirks, his fingers working in overdrive, as he adds another digit inside of you and you could feel yourself about to release. geto can tell you're close from the way you bite down on his fingers. “you close? you gonna cum on satoru’s fingers as you taste yourself?”

you couldn’t even respond, as your cum sprays all over gojo’s fingers and geto’s stomach. the boys both smirk at each other, as they hear your high pitched moans and see heaps of your cum spilling out of your pussy running down your thighs. gojo is in awe, his fingers still remain in you and he pushes them up lazily, trying to keep you plugged with your cum. you relax onto his fingers, letting him do as he pleases, as you try and catch your breath your body slumping onto geto’s.

“you did so well,” geto praises in his air, lifting up your head off your chest, pecking your lips softly. “you took both of our fingers letting us stretch your tight pussy, it felt good didn’t it?” 

“y-yeah it felt so good sugu,” you sigh, turning your head to face gojo, as you pull him closer into you, “you both felt so good.”

“you wanna let us stuff you further?” gojo questions eagerly, his hard dick resting on your ass, as rocks against you.

“satoru,” geto reprimands, shaking his head at his friends over excitement. but gojo shoots him a look shrugging as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, practically inhaling you.

“but suguru, she wants us both to stuff her,” he argues, as fingers already go back to your sobbing cunt. “you want that dont you?” he whispers, directly in your ear, slowly coaxing your pussy with soft strokes as he murmurs in your ear. “you want me and sugu to shove our dicks right up your pussy, together.”

“i don’t know if i can…” you hesitate, your voice faltering, but you pull your lip between your teeth, closing your eyes as you think about taking both of them.

“c’mon pretty girl,” geto persuades you, forcing you to open your eyes and look at the teasing smirk on your face, “don’t think we don’t know how slutty you can be. you know your greedy little cunt take both of us with ease, and you want it to, don't you?” you nod your head slowly in agreement, but geto shakes his, “no, we need to hear you say it. use your words. tell us what you want.”

“i want your dicks to stuff my pussy,” you admit, feeling your confidence grow as the smirk on geto’s face widens and you can hear gojo lowly growl in your ear. “i need it.”

“well we have to give our girl what she wants, right sugu?” gojo taunts, pulling you off of gojo and onto his lap, his dick slaps against your pussy. “suguru got to see your pretty face, before, so this time you’re all mine, okay?” gojo says to you, and you could hear geto kiss his teeth, but he obliges letting gojo have his way this time. 

“you ready for me?” gojo asks, waiting for your approval as he lifts you up slightly over his dick, he even looks over to geto he leans back against the couch, with his dick in his hand. you don’t even answer gojo, sliding down onto gojo as you moan together.

geto fists his dick at the sight, “go on satoru, fuck her,” he orders, his strokes increasing as he watches as gojo begin to thrust into you. your hands press down on gojo’s shoulder’s as you start to bounce on him, you lean forward whining straight in his ear, causing him fuck you harder.

gojo plays with your bra strap, pulling it and letting it release against your shoulder, “i don’t know why you’ve still got this on,” he complains, as brings his hands to the clasp of your bra, undoing it. your tits bounce as he pulls off your bra, and both boys smile at the sight. gojo’s fingers pull against both of your nipples, twisting and pulling at them causing you to cry at every tug. “so sensitive,” he mutters to himself, touching your tits inquisitively as he continues to toy with them, loving how with every touch your cries grow louder.

“it’s crazy how we stretched you so well earlier, but your pussy is still tight as fuck,” gojo comments, his words punctuated with every thrust. “i had all my fingers inside of you already, but your cock hungry cunt just can’t seem to get enough.”

“is he fucking you good?” geto calls, feeling himself about to cum, as he rubs against his dick hard. you look over to him and smile, nodding quickly as you wrap your hands around gojos neck, clinging to him as his dick drives into you. geto stands up, coming up behind you pressing a kiss on your neck, “you need me to help get you off?”

“she doesn’t need anything from you, i’m doing just fine,” gojo mumbles, but he lets you slightly raise up off of his dick and he smirks as he feels geto join him, geto’s dick presses against gojo in excitement as they wait in anticipation for you to enclose them with your pussy. 

“don’t be nervous,” geto coos from behind you, nipping at your ear. you look at gojo and he gives you an encouraging nod, and you slide back down onto them hissing in slight pain as you feel them both enter you. “it’s okay pretty, you’re doing so so well,” geto continues to reassure you, pressing soothing kisses down your neck, his lips sucking at your flesh. you all pause as you fully take them both in, and you feel the pain subside smiling at gojo giving him permission to move. 

geto follows suit, and you all move in tandem, fucking against each other. gojo places his hands on your ass, pushing your cheeks in pace with his movements whereas geto’s hands cup your tits, holding them firmly as he spreads his fingers over your nipples, rolling them.

“fu-fuck you two are too big, you can’t” you whine, clawing against gojo’s chest. they were both drilling into you relentlessly, you couldn’t catch your breath as every second you were being double stuffed with dick. tears spring to your eyes, as you cry out in pleasure, grinding down against them trying to get as much as them as possible. 

“if only you could see how slutty our girl looks,” gojo says to geto, as he watches your head fall back, another moan escaping your lips. “her eyes are all glossed over, she’s fucking crying, all slutted out on our dicks right now.”

“is that so?” geto mutters, he forces himself into you deeper, his back hitching up against yours, his clench on your tits tightening as he inches himself in your pussy, his hips slapping against you. “she’s such a good slut, i knew she’d be able to take us well, and look she’s loving it, already creaming all over us, isn’t that baby?”

you nod, your hand coming up to hold geto’s head as he nestles into your neck. you were losing your train of thought, you wanted to tell them how good they felt, how their dicks rubbing against each other in you was all you needed for the rest of you life, but when you open your mouth all that can leave your lips is incoherent words and moans. 

both of them smile, watching as you come undone on their dicks. gojo gives geto a nod, and their hands trade places. gojos fingers coming back to your tits, rubbing and pushing them apart before lowering his head to your chest, nuzzling your boobs. gojo and geto were so close that some things between them didn’t need to be spoken, and they were so close to you that they knew your body in and out. they knew when to push and pull, and where to suck just to get you cumming their lap.

“i’m s-so close, i’m gonna cu—” you try and speak out, but your mind is too far gone for you to finish. their dicks slip out of you as your bounces become sloppy, the pleasure too much for you but geto forces you back muttering reassurance in your neck. and the sudden contact causes you to cum, you release all over both them, but they don’t stop their movements, their dicks driving into you still, pushing back in all the cum you were letting out.

“satoru, we gonna give our girl one final stuffing?” geto prompts, and gojo nods, they both give you one final push and you could feel your pussy stretch as their cum sprays your walls. you wail out, the tears streaming your face as your body jerks forward, feeling their dicks go limp inside of you as you all pant in pleasure.

“that was fucking amazing,” gojo praises, a blissful smile on his face as he leans back his head resting on his arms. you return his smile, your lips meeting his in a quick kiss, that he groans at as you pull away. you come off his dick slowly, all of your eyes staring at the ropes of cum that immediately spill out of your pussy as he unplugs you. 

geto turns your head to face him, his dick still lodged deeply inside of you, he pulls you into a long kiss, his mouth smothering yours. he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, roughly biting down on it before releasing you, his hand cupping your chin, forcing you to stare up at him “you’re mine, my pretty slutty mess.”

“um she’s ours,” gojo chimes in, but geto shrugs, not caring to listen to your other friend. geto, finally pulls you off his dick, and your pussy clenches around nothing, already missing the feeling of their dicks.

“you too always know to take good care of me,” you exhale, exhausted your pussy sore about being stretched open by the two of them. geto pulls you back into his original hold, leaning back against his chest, and your legs stretch over gojo’s lap. but this time instead of innocent gentle touches, geto’s hands lazily tug at your nipples, and gojo caresses your naked thighs, his fingers flicking at your clit every now and again.

“that’s what friends are for,” geto muses, pressing his lips against your cheek before saying, “now satoru, are you gonna press play on this shitty movie or what?”

AN: ight so there you have it my FIRST FIC of kinktober, what do you guys think I need to hear all your thoughts since Ooooof this took me so long to write. so I hope it is worth it. also if you see my bias towards geto during this then LOOK AWAY, im sorry gojo stans but im a geto lover foreverrr. but yeahhh lmk ur thoughts stay tuned for my other kink tober fics which WILL be on time I promise smooches.

[entitled-fangirl]

Meek.

Cregan Stark x Baratheon!reader

Summary: Cregan is determined to be a different man for his betrothed than the men in her family.

Warnings: poor treatment of women, sexism, cursing, talks of sex, making out

A/N: Based on TWO asks!!!! Also--- not proofread😯

Masterlist

....................................................

Everyone knew the absolute torment that house Baratheon put their women through.

They were cruel to them, not caring for anything but their own pleasure. That was well known.

When Cregan was betrothed to Lord Baratheon's second eldest daughter, he wondered how she'd fair under the Northern weather.

Lord Baratheon didn't even bother to see her go, sending her off to the Wolf with just her handmaidens and guards to see her safe to Winterfell.

Cregan stood at the doors, his shoulders back in a display of northern pride. He was beyond grateful to rid the sweet woman from the ungrateful Baratheons.

The moment her horse stepped through the gate, his people were attentive to her, taking her belongings and beginning to carry them into the castle.

She watched them with widened eyes, confused by their kindness. Cregan quickly stepped down the stairs to her, "Welcome, my lady."

Her head snapped to him and looked down at him from her horse. She said nothing in fear of saying the wrong thing.

He reached up and gently pulled the reigns from her hands. The leather slid from her grasp slowly. She dared not to intervene. 

Once he had the reigns in his hand, he pulled on them, walking the horse further into the yard and closer to Winterfell.

She merely let him as she held to the saddle. 

Cregan felt a small smile grow on his face. She was a curious thing. It was too bad she wouldn't voice her thoughts. 

As he looked up at her, he decided then to change that. He would get her to open up one day.

He tied the reigns off and held out his hand to her. "Let me help you." She reminded him of a skittish doe, ready to run at any sign of danger.

Her shaky hand reached out, and she swung her leg over the horse. She stared at him expectantly.

He let go and grabbed her waist, holding her as he slid her down the horse's side and placed her on the ground.

"Thank you, Lord Stark," her soft voice finally spoke.

He swore he'd never heard anything sweeter.

How the Baratheons could bare to mistreat her, he'll never know.

…

He told the North that he was in no way going to rush the marriage. So she stayed in the Winterfell walls unwed so he could understand her more before becoming one.

He felt like he owed her that. 

She deserved to be known. 

She had become a little more comfortable around him, beginning to slowly speak to him about only the things that were essential to say aloud.

The two walked the grounds together, a routine they had developed over time. 

"I wish you'd speak about things that don't matter," he finally mentioned. He peeked over to her to see her reaction.

Her brows furrowed as she stared in front of her, "I don't understand."

"I didn't mean it in that sense I suppose." He reached up with his free to stroke the hair on his chin in thought of what to say. "I want to know the things that you worry I'll find unimportant. Does that make sense?"

She hesitantly shook her head.

He sighed softly at how to correct his words. Finally, he shrugged. "I want to know you."

"You do," she countered quietly. 

"I don't," he smiles as he brushed hair behind her ear, "but I'd like to."

She sucked in a sharp breath at his touch to her face. The men in her family were far from this gentle. "I assure you there is nothing of interest to me."

"There is, I'm sure. I'll find it."

She nodded, "Whatever you wish, my lord." She began to walk again.

He pulled her back, "Not so quickly." He reached down and pulled both of her hands into his. "Don't say what you wish me to hear. Say what you are thinking."

"Why would I do that?" She asked innocently. 

He cursed under his breath but didn't let her see the way his jaw clenched. "It matters to me. Your thoughts, I mean."

She stared at their intertwined hands, "Even the unpleasant ones?"

"Especially the unpleasant ones."

It was a strange concept for her, but she nodded as her brain began to truly consider what he was asking for. 

He smiled in relief, still holding one hand and beginning to walk again. "Let us start with simple matters. Perhaps… your favorite novel?"

Her head snapped to him, "I don't… I…"

His thumb rubbed over her knuckles, "I know you have one. I've seen the way book pages soak you in like water."

The question had been a sensitive one. She shrugged in a fake nonchalant fashion and kept walking, "I don't have one."

He hummed lowly, a small warning. "Don't lie. Just say what it is."

"I… I don't remember the name of it," she finally admitted. 

He accepted that answer. "I see. What was it about?"

Her big eyes looked up at him, debating what to say. "It was… a fiction."

He smiled, "I see. There can be enjoyment in fictional novels, can't there?" He waited to say what else she would say. Each new piece of herself she revealed to him, he treasured like a precious stone.

"Well… it is the only one I've read, I'm afraid," she smiled weakly, eager to change the subject.

"The only?" He asked in pure shock. "The only one?"

She nodded, keeping in a certain side of herself. "It was left behind. Father has it."

"Ah," he said finally. 

…

That evening, he wrote to Lord Baratheon, urging him to send her favorite book. He was straight to the point, telling the man he could send the novel to earn Stark's forgiveness for avoiding the wedding.

…

A few weeks later, a letter arrived addressed to Lord Stark. He almost ripped it out of the maester's hand in concern when he saw the Baratheon sigil in the wax. It was a thick roll, only making his concern spike.

He pulled it open, revealing a few pages that fell from his hand. 

Book pages.

Ripped book pages. 

He picked up one with a shaking hand. He began to see red as he looked back up at the maester. "What is the meaning of this?"

The maester held out his hand, "Allow me to read this for you, my lord."

Cregan handed the letter to him as he began to gather the few book pages that were sent to him.

The maester's face turned white. "He dares to disrespect you."

"Do not tell me these are what I believe them to be," he growled lowly.

"I'm afraid they are."

Cregan's hand slammed the papers onto the desk in pure rage and stormed out of the room.

…

Cregan swung his sword with a fury. His sparring partner could hardly keep up, but he knew his Lord just needed to get out his anger.

His partner was grateful when Cregan's betrothed interrupted them.

"Cregan?"

Cregan faltered, freezing in place and turning his head to her. "Yes?" He asked with a surprisingly soft voice.

She wrung her hands nervously. "I… Forgive me. I shouldn't have interrupted."

He stood up tall, handing his sword off to his partner and waving him off. "No. Please. Tell me what you need."

She hummed and let out a deep breath. "I've been thinking."

He nodded, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Aye…"

"I'm ready to marry you."

He sucked in a sharp breath. "What?"

"I- I want to marry you, Cregan."

He saw the absolute nervousness that radiated through her frame to admit that to him.

He stepped to her, "You're sure?"

She nodded. "If you still want me."

He stepped further to her in urgency, "Of course, I do. Never think that I wouldn't."

She stared at him, now unsure of where to go from there.

Cregan smiled. "Shall I set a date for the wedding then?"

Her eyes lit up. "Would you?"

"I would. And I shall. We shall have it two weeks before Winter strikes. I will leave for the Wall not long after. Would that suffice?"

She looked down at her hands. 

"What?" He tilted his head down, hoping to get her to look at him. "Did you wish for after winter? That could be quite a while."

She had worked herself up just to admit wanting to marry him. How could he expect her to do more?

"Talk to me, pretty girl."

She'd never been called that before. It made something inside of her stir. 

"It's so far," she whispered.

He felt a chill down his spine at her small confession. He gulped as the anger left him completely. "Sooner then?"

"Sooner."

He nodded, biting his lower lip in deep thought. "Aye. Soon then."

A bright smile pulled at her lips. "Thank you, Cregan."

He grinned back. "Of course. Now, go on," he tutted playfully, "Your betrothed must finish his spar."

Red came to her cheeks, "Right. Right, of course. Excuse me, Lord Stark-"

"-Cregan," he quickly corrected.

"Cregan."

He watched her leave. There was a slight skip to her step now that he hadn't noticed about her before. 

Perhaps she was finding happiness in Winterfell.

…

The wedding was a large northern celebration. The bannermen and families came  from miles around to witness their Warden's wedding.

Everyone was too kind. It was beginning to worry her.

"Quite the feast, I'd say," Cregan smiled at her as the two sat at the high table. 

Her hands immediately reached for her chalice of wine.

And she didn't stop for the entire night.

…

"Let us retire," he suggested when she tried to refill her cup again. His hand reached out and gently placed it over hers. "It is getting late. And before you fret, the bedding ceremony will not happen. It is only you and I."

Her eyes softened in surprise, not expecting him to say that. "One more glass for courage?" She slurred slightly.

His brows ticked down for only a second before he composed himself. "Courage isn't needed for this. Are you truly this nervous?"

"I'm perfectly content," she huffed. 

The crease between his brows returned. That was uncharacteristic of her to speak in frustration. Had the wine affected her? "Then let us go, hmm?"

She nodded, setting her cup down. "Very well."

He stood, offering his hand out to her. She took it and stood, trying to hide the slight falter in her first step. She moved her hand up to his bicep, letting him lead her from the banquet hall.

Entering their chambers, she sat on the bed. "Will you have me on my back or shall you take me from behind?" She asked bluntly, no hint of embarrassment or hesitation to her.

Cregan hand on the doorknob faltered. He locked the door and turned to her with shock on his face, "What was that?"

"Which way do you fuck, Lord Stark?" She asked in the same tone.

He shook his head with an amused chuckle. He stepped to her, reaching down and pushing her chin up to look at him. "I will not be fucking you tonight." He watched her posture change, a relaxation coming to her. "Why would you ask something so crude? It's unlike you."

"You wanted me to speak my mind, and I have," She stated in frustration. 

"You certainly have," he commented. "But I have a feeling that the wine is twisting your words. Tell me why you indulged in so much wine tonight."

She shrugged, "Why do you care?"

He gently pulled her chin back up, "I care about you."

"There it is." Her nose twitched. "I don't know what to do when you say things like that."

He stood straight, "You didn't answer the question."

"Fine!" She stood up and stepped around him, "I drank so much because I have never known a man to be as kind as you and it frightens me."

"Frightens you? How so?" Cregan was beyond confused. He turned to watch her.

She stepped to the fireplace and buried her hands in her hair in frustration. "I've never wanted to speak my mind to anyone until I met you, and now I fear I'll say something I shouldn't and ruin it all. Do you know what that feels like? To know that one wrong word could send you back to…" Her voice faded off. 

"I don't. And neither do you, because regardless of your words, I'm not going to send you back there. You're a Stark. The Baratheons are only a name now- if you want them to be, that is. If you want to truly be a Stark in name and heart." He offered. His calculating eyes watched her closely now, frowning at the tugging of her hair.

"Even after I've indulged myself in wine and ruined our wedding to the point that you refuse to consummate the marriage with me?" She turned to him and only then did he see the glimmer of the tears that sat in her eyes. 

"You did not ruin anything. But I will not sleep with you as long as you are not fully aware of your actions."

"I am aware," she huffed.

"We shall see in the morning." The slightest amused smile come over him. "I promised to take you to bed one way or the other. Perhaps tonight, it is only to sleep and nothing more." He walked to her. "Turn around. Let me undo your laces, stubborn woman."

She did as he asked, pulling her hair over her shoulder. "Will I regret this tomorrow?"

"The marriage or this particular conversation?" He asked. "If it has to be one, I hope it is the latter. I personally enjoy the former."

She hummed, pulling her outer dress down once Cregan had untied it enough. Layer by layer, she threw each piece to the cloth chair not far from the fire. 

Cregan's careful hands untied each string they came across. 

Silence filled the room, and she broke it with a small sniffle. Her voice was much softer now, "Do you believe my father didn't want to be here? Is that something you believe?"

Of course, he believed it, but he wouldn't say it. "I'm not sure. Do you, sweet girl?"

She hummed, "I do."

That surprised him. "Ah. Do continue speaking your mind, please. Do not let me stop you."

"He has a particular hatred for women. I'm not sure where it started. When he had a firstborn daughter rather than son, my mother was fearful for the girl. I was second. He married us off without a second thought. Dare I admit to you that he signed me away to you without truly reading the document?"

Cregan placed his hands on her clothed hips and spun her to face him.

No wonder she came here so fearful. She was mistreated from the beginning. He stared into her eyes for a moment, letting the silence settle. He reached up and brushed his fingers on her cheek. "How could a man ever hate you?" He asked with a barely heard voice.

Her heart jolted, "I have never felt love before. Is it supposed to feel this warm?"

Cregan let out a joyful laugh as he ran his hands through her hair. "I want to say yes, but you're near the fire. And the wine is coloring your cheeks. We shall revisit this when you are well. Let us get you to bed."

"Bed? Right." She pulled herself from him and moved to the bed. She tucked herself under the covers.

Cregan's smile stayed. "Are you warm enough for the night?"

"Yes, but… are you not staying?"

He shook his head. "I don't want you to wake in a fright if tonight's details blur in your mind. Waking beside me may be startling for you."

"No! I-" she looked around the room in thought. "I want you to stay. I want that."

His head tilted. "Alright. If you want this. But know that nothing will happen to you while I stay here tonight."

"I can live with that," she admitted as she laid on the bed completely.

Darkness filled the room with Cregan blew out the candles, and the bed dipped down as he laid on it. 

…

In the morning, she awoke with a groan. The sun was burning her eyes. 

"Ah, you're awake," Cregan's voice commented from across the room.

She sat up and rubbed at her eyes until they were raw, determined to get the feeling to fade. When she did, a headache began to erupt.

"Easy," he chided as he walked to her. He reached to the nightstand and held a cup out to her. "The maester made a tea to help with the pain."

She sipped it gratefully. "I had the strangest dream that I'm fearing is true," she said with a groggy voice.

He watched her with a glimmer in his eyes. His hand reached to her and smoothed her hair down.

She peered up at him. She wondered how someone could be so thoughtful.

"Tell me something," he said as sat down at her side. "If that's alright."

"Anything," she whispered. Her eyes flickered to his lips. 

"Is the warmth still there?" 

He watched her face began to near his. She placed her hand on his leg to help her lean over to him. "I believe I love you," she admitted gently.

He smiled and leaned the rest of the way to her. His lips kissed her softly and slowly. 

Before she could truly react, he pulled away again. The grin on his lips returned, as were his hands in her hair, "I was going to gift this to you yesterday, but I believe today is a better day for it."

"Oh," her shy demeanor returned and she set the cup down.

"Don't fret. You'll adore it. Or… I hope you do."

She watched him get up from the bed, beginning to dig though a drawer in his closet. 

He returned with a book in his hand. "It took some time, but I believe it was worth it."

She reached out and took it, examining the cover. She only stared at it for a moment before her eyes lit up. "Is this-?"

"Your favorite novel? It is." His head tilted back and forth, "Or, at least, I believe it is."

"This isn't the same copy as the one with my Father," she remarked.

"No, it's not. I tried to recover it but was unsuccessful. I hope this copy with be worthy of your happiness."

"Oh, Cregan," she mused. "It's… it is too much. I don't understand."

"It is a wedding gift. Do not think twice about it. You haven't the feignest idea of how far I would go to please you," he admitted.

"I've never had someone do something so selfless on my behalf." She hugged it to her chest, "Tell me how you managed it."

He smiled, content with the way she cherished the book. "I admit that I wrote a letter to your father, asking for the book. I was sent ripped pages in return-"

He faltered at the way her face fell.

"-But," he continued, "I sent the pages off to three well-read men and promised them anything to the man who found the novel it belonged to. It took a while, and I feared I would not have it in time, but alas, one of them found it. And here it is."

"What did he wish for?"

He frowned slightly, "Don't fret over that. Just know that it is all handled accordingly."

She pulled it from her chest to look at it again to guarantee that it was indeed real. "You are the most spectacular man I've met." She looked up at him. "I don't know what I have done to deserve you, but I shall spend my entire life thanking the gods for you."

"It is only a novel, my girl."

"It is much more than a novel."

"Then you'd hate to see what else I'd get you to only see a smile come to your lips."

She leaned over to him again as before, "May I kiss you?"

"Of course," he smiled. 

She grinned and pushed herself into his lap completely, pulling her body as close to his as she could, careful to not hit him with the book still in her hand. 

She finally connected their lips with a heavier intent than they had shared before.

He groaned against her and wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm certain," she panted against his lips, "I love you."

"My girl, I've loved you since the moment you arrived in Winterfell."

She pulled away from him completely. "W… What?"

"Since that day," he said as he brushed his thumb over her cheek. "I've been quite sure that I love you."

"You feel warmth when you are with me?"

"When I see you, I want to keep you beside me. I want to hold and kiss you until you're dizzy. I want to watch you sit and read until you become one with the sofa," he chuckled, "I want to see your joy as much as I can. I want you."

"You're unlike any man I know."

"That's alright. Isn't it?"

She chuckled as full relief flowed from her, as if only now accepting that she was safe here. "What a silly question, my lord."

He tilted his head playfully. "My lord?"

"It was my attempt at a jest," she admitted sheepishly. "Was it a poor one?"

"No," he countered. "I was just not expecting it from my meek wife. Perhaps she is not as meek as I once thought."

She laughed again, "Perhaps. We'll see, won't we?"

He kissed her cheek, "I cannot wait." He spoke in her ear, "But for now, be gone. You have a novel to read, don't you?"

Her eyes lit up and she clambered out of his lap. "I do! Oh, I do!"

Cregan watched the woman run to the cloth chair by the fireplace and sit, pulling her book open in a rush to absorb its words.

He chuckled and stood as he began to dress, "I'll fetch you for dinner. There's breakfast on the table from earlier. I expect you'll be content until then," he teased.

She looked up and nodded, "I will."

"Read closely. I expect to hear a summary at dinner of whatever chapters you consume."

She grinned from ear to ear as he left.

………………………………………………….

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver,

[sassy-cass-16]

look man. look

essek saying "bren" out loud, claiming a position on caleb's side as the mouthpiece of his regards to astrid, did something to me. i can't tell if it opened a wound or punched me or gave me a hug. all i know is that i am feeling so many emotions right now

more under the cut because i'm about to get rambly:

"bren aldric ermendrud" is a separate character from caleb widogast. he's a young boy learning how to make magic. he's a deeply traumatized and indoctrinated teenager. he's the boy who curled up with astrid and eadwulf in a freezing tower for warmth all night.

essek never met bren. he met caleb and he's never known him as anyone else. if i'm remembering correctly, caleb never even said the name "bren" to him during the campaign, and neither did any of the nein.

essek knows caleb widogast. he knows the man who held up the object of his worst crime and then kissed him in the bowels of a ship and made a floor of infinite stars for them to walk through together. he knows the person who healed over bren's wounds—thinly, but enough. he knows the man that the boy has become.

astrid knows bren. she barely knows who caleb is. she still calls him bren after hearing him referred to as caleb repeatedly. she can't know him as the man he is, she only knows the boy. there's some of bren in caleb, but there is no caleb in bren.

essek saying "bren sends his regards" is him gauging astrid's reaction, on one level—if she freaks out, which she did, she's in opposition to caleb's cause and thus a threat. on another level, it's essek delivering a very different subtextual message from caleb: "the boy who loved you is giving you one final warning."

because essek is a threat to astrid. their last meaningful interaction was slinging spells at each other in the blooming grove. and that's funny in a "current boyfriend vs ex girlfriend exclusively fight each other" kind of way, but it's also deeply tied to caleb's recurring theme of transformation. "bren sends his regards" also means "i have healed enough to love enough for someone else to know this name and use it with my consent. and this someone else is your enemy. what does that make you think i've become?"

it also does a fantastic job of communicating subtle offscreen discussions that have happened over the years since the end of c2. we don't have the details of when or how caleb told essek his birth name, but we know that he did, and we know from all of c2 that the name bren occupies a place of immense emotional weight for caleb. it functions similarly to a deadname in terms of who uses it and for what purpose. trent exclusively calls caleb bren to wound him and place himself in a position of power. astrid calls him bren to remind both him and herself of who they used to be—same with eadwulf, though obviously he's not here.

the first time we hear essek say "bren" is on caleb's behalf and confronting one of the narrative representations of caleb's trauma. it's four words that manage to communicate "i, your enemy on a hundred levels, can speak for both the man i love and the boy who loved you, because i know him in his entirety."

astrid knows bren and essek knows caleb, but only essek can speak for both. because at some point, caleb gave bren to essek. and we know this from four words. four IMPROVISED words.

god. this moment is just so fucking good

[hoshifighting]

hii lyla, can you do a smut reaction of them getting horny bc their s/o started massaging them?

e tbm, amo ler oq vc escreve pq me ajuda MUITO no inglês, beijos linda

Seventeen getting horny because you started massaging them.

a/n: que gracinha!! eu comecei assim!! fico feliz que te ajuda também 😭 🙏 um monte de beijoooos!

seungcheol lies on the bed, muscles aching from his recent workout. you decide to focus on his massive thighs, kneading the tight muscles with determined pressure. every groan you let out in effort sends a shiver down his spine. your hands inch closer to his groin, and he stiffens, feeling his cock start to harden. the combination of your groans and the proximity of your hands is too much.

suddenly, he grabs your wrist, stopping you with pleading eyes. “i... i can't take it anymore. please, i need you.”

jeonghan feels a rush of arousal the moment your hands touch his back. you’re straddling his hips, your fingers occasionally scratching his skin lightly with your nails. he bites his lip, fighting the urge to flip you over and take you right there. but he waits, knowing how you’d sulk if he didn’t let you finish the massage.

“are you okay?” you ask, noticing his tension.

he smirks, “just enjoying myself. keep going.”

joshua regrets agreeing to the massage as soon as your hands start gliding over his back. he shivers, his breath coming out in shallow pants. you haven’t even gotten into the massage properly, and he’s already struggling to control himself.

“are you teasing me?” he groans, turning his head to look at you with heated eyes.

junhui has the self-control of a monk. he lies there, letting you finish the massage without a word. but the moment you’re done, he grabs your oiled hands, pulling you towards him.

“now, it’s my turn,” he whispers, positioning himself above you.

hoshi is rock hard the second your hands start massaging him. whether it’s his thighs, arms, shoulders, or back, it doesn’t matter. your touch has this effect on him. he doesn’t even let you finish, flipping you over in the middle of the massage.

“fuck! ah–! you never let me finish,” you sulk between moans.

he thrusts into you, grinning. “can’t help it. your hands drive me crazy.”

wonwoo starts to doze off as you massage him, occasional groans escaping his lips. by the time you’re done, he’s turned onto his back, and you see the hard bulge straining against his shorts. he hisses slightly, his arousal almost painful.

“you really have that effect on me,” he murmurs, pulling you closer.

woozi really tries to hide his arousal, using a cushion on his lap or his hands to cover himself. but you notice the change in his moans, the way they get louder and more desperate.

“is something wrong?” you ask innocently.

he blushes, looking away. “i... you just feel so good.”

minghao is used to your massages. it's a comforting ritual in your relationship, one you both enjoy immensely. today, however, he’s feeling unusually horny and sensitive. your hands work expertly over his back, and he lets out a low, contented sigh.

“feels good?” you ask, smiling as you knead the knots from his muscles.

“yes, but today... it’s different,” he murmurs, shifting slightly.

you pause, sensing his arousal. “different how?”

he looks at you with a heated gaze. “i’m too horny. today is your day..."

mingyu's cooking when you come up behind him, massaging his shoulders through his shirt. he lets the knife rest on the cutting board, placing his hands on the counter and closing his eyes.

“mmm, that feels nice,” he murmurs.

you feel him tense slightly and ask, “what happened?”

he lets out an embarrassed moan, saying shamefully, “i’m... hard.”

you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his hips and palming him through his shorts. “looks like you need another kind of massage.”

seokmin loves your massages, always asking for one after practice. he usually falls asleep, but today is different. he just returned from tour, and when you offer a massage, he eagerly accepts. but instead of falling asleep, he feels the longing for your touch in a different way. his cock is rock hard, staining his white underwear with precum.

“for once, can we have a different kind of massage?” he asks, glancing at his erection.

seungkwan got hurt playing badminton and is now listening to you scold him while you massage his thighs. your hands graze his cock occasionally, not intentionally, but enough to make him groan.

“you always push your limits,” you scold, “and now look at you.”

he shifts, his arousal evident. “you can keep scolding me if you want to, but could you ride me, please?”

vernon is working on his music, hunched over his macbook at the hotel desk. you decide to help him adjust his posture and start massaging his shoulders. he closes his eyes, letting out a small sigh of relief.

“you need a break,” you exclaim, kissing his cheek.

he nods, mouth slightly open. “yeah, i do.”

noticing the bulge in his sweatpants, you smirk. “how about a special break?”

chan is tense about his work, massaging his temples as he places his computer on the center table. he throws himself on the sofa, still and tense. your delicate hands suddenly start massaging his shoulders, and he spasms before melting into your touch.

“you’re so tense,” you murmur, working out the knots.

he nodded, furrowing his eyebrows a bit. the night turned into you giving him head, your hands and mouth working to help him finally relax.

[sugurusombereyes]

sleepy mornings with suguru

“c’mon we have to get up.”

sunlight peeked through your half closed curtains, the liquid gold painting your exposed skin in the warmth geto gave you whenever you were in his presence. you attempted to cover your eyes from it since you already were going blind from your horrible eyesight that suguru would always tease you about.

(he would then later tell you in bed how it was a joke and he wasn’t making fun of you. you would then smile and tell him that you knew, his small doubts sending a flutter to your heart that was practically beating outside your chest)

shoko and gojo would constantly talk about how you and geto were complete opposites all the time. how he was the sunlight that everyone would be trying to get in pictures and how you were the night sky that he would disappear into.

(it was supposed to be somewhat of an insult to geto as he would always be teased about how he was so much softer around you. but he took it as a compliment as he truly felt like he could be himself around you)

“wake up.”

you groan for the fifth time in the past minute, you both had slept in for the past three days as you the two of you didn’t have work. but it got to a point where you most literally wouldn’t leave the bed, as much as you weren’t a morning person you had to take some control over your zombie body.

and zombie boyfriend.

“m’tired angel go back to sleep.” he groaned, turning over to your side and attempting to rest his head on your chest as you pushed him off. you rolled your eyes and tried to rub the tiredness out of them, “we all sing.” you referenced to that one video of victoria justice that would make geto cringe as you would cry out laughter which would make tears fall out of his eyes at your reaction to his facial expression. “close your eyes.” geto slapped his hands over your eyelids and attempted to close them as you giggled.

“i’m not sleepy sugu, we need to-.”

his big arms immediately wrapped you up in a giant bear hug, trapping you towards his body while your face met his chest and his chin meeting the top of your head. “getooo.” you groaned as he let out a laugh, his husky voice dripping like honey into your veins and slowing down your blood rushing as well as the moment. “i rarely get these with you so let’s just relax a bit, yeah?” he murmured into your hair, pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead.

(the same feeling heat that would make him blush rising up to your cheeks)

“you always have me.” you say quietly, relaxing your body into his. intertwining your legs and practically sewing together your hearts even though they were at very different placements geto still felt like his heart was stitched with the colour of your eyes.

“mm i know baby, just wanna love on you right now.” suguru rubs your back soothingly, slowly and gently as you sigh in content; your eyes drooping down as he snaked a hand underneath your t shirt and drew shapes that you were too tired to guess on the curves of your hips. “love you.” you sleepily mutter, your breathing slowing down as you couldn’t fight off the drowsiness. “don’t say you love me more or i’ll haunt you in your dreams.” suguru nods while fighting off a laugh. you yawn as his heartbeat fades out as you fall into a deep slumber.

“i love you most angel.”

[moonstruckme]

Ok, your little jily about hypothermia gave me the urge to see :

The reaction to the marauders to you falling through the ice. Like you were skating on the Black Lake with Sirius and James because they convinced you (against you initial worry) while Remus stands off to the side and watches (the most unsure and worried of them)

And I can see James and Sirius trying to race each other as you try to get a hand of ice skating. Then a crack and you fall through.

It’s like you know that scene with Amy in Little woman

I would totally get if you don’t like it since you’ve just written a similar one.

Your work is amazing ! Hope everything is ok for you ❤️

Thank you lovely <3

cw: ice skating trauma?

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

It’s just like Sirius and James to goad you out onto the lake and then get bored of you when--as you tried to warn them—you can’t skate. James is fizzing with energy, promising to come back as soon as he makes one quick round of the cove, and of course when he challenges Sirius to a race your boyfriend is too competitive to decline. 

They take off at light speed, blades schwicking across the dark ice. Remus, sitting bundled up on land, eyes you worriedly over the top of his book. 

“Be careful,” he warns, not for the first time. 

You are nervous, with no handholds and no boyfriends to help you, but you’re eager to reassure him. “Don’t worry.” You smile. “I’m not going to go racing after them.” 

Remus returns your smile, and, mollified, returns to his book. 

The ice on the Black Lake is far from pristine. There are dips and ridges, and soon you find yourself being channeled down curving paths away from the shore, hardly moving your skates and arms out to your sides for balance. The ice beneath your feet begins to look darker, less of the frosty sheen or slashes from other skates. It feels smoother, too. 

You let yourself glide forward, raising your head to see if any of your boyfriends are looking to witness your success. The first crack is a light sound. Almost negligible, but it gets your attention. You scream as the ice falls out from beneath you. 

The cold shocks you down to your bones, freezing the blood in your veins and pressing in on your lungs. Instinct propels you upwards. 

“H—help!” 

Your voice is a tight cry. The air doesn’t feel much better, colder even, but you try to stay above the surface, the blades on your feet slicing uselessly through the water below. Each time you try to grasp at a piece of ice and pull yourself onto it, it breaks away. Your breaths are gasping, panicked puffs that send white clouds into the air in front of you. 

You can hear your boyfriends shouting. 

“Pads, wait—wait—” 

Sirius is crawling towards you on the ice, another shape moving quickly in your direction. 

“Accio branch!” 

James tosses the long stick to Sirius, who holds it out for you to grab onto. The bark bites into your palms, but you don’t let go as both boys use it to drag you out, ice jutting into your middle. As soon as you’re out to your hip you’re in Sirius’ embrace, his strong arms bringing you closer and helping you pull your legs from the water. 

“You’re okay,” he says, firmly. As though daring anyone to prove him wrong. “You’re okay, baby, we’ve got you. We have you.” 

James and Sirius keep you tucked between them, pushing you on dripping skates and wobbly legs to the edge of the lake. Remus looks like he tried to come out wearing his shoes. His face has drained of its wintery flush, brow set tense with worry. 

Sirius helps him back to the shore, but not before Remus casts a warming charm on you. You give an odd shiver at the change. 

“How’s that, angel?” James scrubs a hand up and down your arm. His voice is light, but its lightness is so forced and so different from his exuberant tone of a few minutes ago. 

Remus pulls you into a hug as you start to cry. Tiny sobs mixed with shivers, your frame shaking in every way possible. Remus holds you securely to him as he lowers you both to the ground. He casts another warming charm for good measure. 

“You’re lucky she didn’t get dragged under by the grindylows,” he says with your head tucked beneath his chin. He sounds angry, but it’s quickly succumbing to weariness. His arms wind around you tighter. 

“We didn’t know she’d try and go into the middle!” Sirius argues as he kneels beside you, James at his side. Your boyfriend’s face is lined with guilt as he reaches for you, unsticking a damp piece of hair from your cheek. 

“How was she supposed to know?”

“Sorry,” you offer wobbily. Each of them makes some sound of sympathy. 

“No, sweetheart, it’s not your fault,” Remus soothes, covering your cheek with his warm hand. James rubs up your calf from your ankle as though he intends to warm you inch by inch. “It was only your first time, you couldn’t have known.” 

“Yeah,” James agrees, “you’re fine, lovie. Nobody said for you to be sorry.” 

You try on a smile. There’s snot frozen above your top lip. “So I can only be sorry when you say?” 

“Yes,” says Sirius, very seriously. 

He grins when you laugh. Remus cracks, too, and James looks relieved at no longer being scolded. Sirius smooths another piece of hair from your face, looking at you carefully. 

“You okay, baby?” 

“I’m okay,” you confirm. “The warming charms are helping a lot. Thanks, Rem.” 

“That’s our Moony.” Sirius smiles at him, clearly eager to be back in your boyfriend’s good graces. “Always knows the perfect spell.” 

“You know that one, too,” Remus grumbles as James starts to unlace your skates for you. “You could’ve done it the moment you got her out.” 

“Ah, but we’re not all as quick on our feet as you, you swot.” 

“Do you think you can walk back inside?” James asks you, slipping your shoes on. “One of us could go get some tea from the great hall while you warm up in the common room.” 

“Fuck that,” says Sirius. “I know where Slughorn keeps his nice cocoa now. I’d say we’re entitled to some of that after our trials.” 

“One of us is,” Remus corrects him drily. 

“Right, then.” James takes your hands, standing you up slowly and fitting an arm around your waist for support. If the wet of your clothes chills him, he doesn’t complain. “We’ll pilfer enough of Slughorn’s cocoa for one person, and you’ll be good as new by dinner.” 

“I already feel okay,” you try to reassure him. 

“Shh, shh.” Remus takes you by the hand, squeezing gently. “Don’t correct them. Take your dues.”

[signedkoko]

Could I get a Mammon, Vox and Husk with a S/O who gets harassed on the street and their reaction? You can have full creative control over what type of harassment!

I love your fics- if this isn’t getting the creative juices flowing just let me know and I’ll request something different <3

🦷 anon

Husk | Mammon | Vox [Romantic]

In which some loathsome idiot thinks they'll get away with harassing their beloved s/o.

One of your favourite date nights is spent bar hopping

Pop a drink or two in each one, sometimes sharing one cocktail, his wing draped around you, your head leant on his shoulder, humming to the music surrounding you

Both of you had a preference for the less popular spots, the kinds of places you got the weirdest combinations, where he could be inspired and you could give him thoughts

The plus side of the smaller joints was that the music was never too loud, drinks were cheaper, and there was always a few spots free at the bar

Downside was that most places had their regulars, the kind of people who couldn't get in anywhere else

The kind of desperation that builds and spreads like mold in the corner of a dark room next to a leaky pipe

On a few occasions, someone would harmlessly ask to buy you a drink and would turn tail when Husk gave them his usually 'fuck off' look

But this time, the guy would just not get the hint

" What? Already claimed dibs on the bitch? "

Yeah- no, that attitude towards you is not going to fly

Not even three seconds and there's a bottle smashed on the drunk demons head, and three cards flying back into Husk's hand

That's when the bleeding starts

You slap a 20 down for your bill and jump straight up, already being dragged by Husk out the door

Insists if he stayed there you would have both gotten banned anyways, and he likes that spot

You guys don't really go out so casually without a good reason, or just for old times sake

A sin and his spouse on a city street in greed was just asking for bad things to happen

But still, if you asked and he had nothing that day, Mammon would always rather get quality time with you and people watch

Thats most of your conversation, pointing out demons and joking about what you think they are like, what the do, how they speak

It's always a fun game, until some newcomer saw you laughing at him and marched right up, clearly on something and clearly ready to have a go at someone

The moment he reaches for your wrist, his thumb falls to the floor, a messy and jagged cut the only sign of attack besides one of Mammons spider legs now revealed

Before he can even realize the pain or what's happened, Mammon lets out a menacing laugh

" Every extra inch towards my broad is another finger. "

That demon was already screaming and running away, most the crowd on the street that was watching now hurrying in any direction opposite of you and Mammon

" I'm only worth one finger? "

" Nah. Just being generous for once. "

Not really a street guy, but unfortunately some press conferences and events require mingling and interacting with others, which he never liked

Thankfully, with you he has an excuse to stay away from others, or show you off

He usually goes for the latter

He's all 'Have you met my wife?' 'My wife loves x and y!' 'Isn't my wife absolutely gorgeous?'

You are the first topic he speaks of after his company; you'd be the first if he didn't have to waste so much time being a salesman, but that is how the cookie crumbles

Sometimes when there's specific press releases, he has to send you off for a moment, where you usually go and mingle with some of the others in his industry you befriended

During one such interview, he couldn't help but spot out the corner of his eye, some lousy business woman drape her arm around your waist and grab at your hip

" Sorry yeah, this interview is over. "

Literally shoves his way over, sparks and electricity flying, to rip you out of her arms

" Baaabe, is this a friend? Whatever the case, we really gotta get going! "

Jealousy 3000

He's glad he stepped in after he overhears that lady had a habit of harassing other attendees

New clause in every interview; they have to include you or provide security over you while he is busy

Author's Note - Tooth anon comes in for another PIPIN HOT request!! I actually feel so bad because every time I take a break form writing is on yoru request and that really makes it look bad I am so sorry 😩

[ynackerman9499]

Hello! This is me! 𝕪/𝕟 𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕟! This is my tumblr in case you don't know me i have a youtube channel which I upload texting stories videos to it! And this is my first post here in tumblr (original)

Some male Hashiras + kagaya reaction to you sacrificing yourself for them

⚠ Warning : spoiler in kyojuro and kagaya, take of death, blood, injuries, crying, some of them are really short

Giyu Tomioka

You and Giyuu were fighting against 2 demons who used a blood demon art

You killed one and Giyuu killed the other one

Or so you both thought...

"You did well giyuu_san!" You said smilling putting your sword in place

While giyuu just nodded humming as a silent 'thank you'

This only made you smile even wider. You've been friends with giyuu with great amount of time now

You both actually gets along very well Despite your different personalities

So you got used to his comforting quiet gesture

"All right! Let's head back n-"

You suddenly stopped sensing that something is wrong While giyuu looked at you wondering why you fell silent so suddenly

"Wh-"

You breathed in sharply, catching a glint in the air watching it whizz towards Giyuu.

"not on my watch!"

You yelled, quickly drawing your sword breaking the unknown object in half.

Giyuu's eyebrow twitched, taking his sword out of its sheath.

"giyuu, there!" You shouted, pointing to the direction of the demon that was currently perched on one of the trees.

The two of you gave each other a knowing nod, rushing towards the trees and jumped landing on one of the branches,

"come back here you coward!" You barked, skillfully jumping from tree to tree, following after the demon.

The demon hissed, sending metal shards towards you and Giyuu, which the two of you dodged with ease

"breath of ice..." you mumbled taking a deep breath

"dance of frozen crystals!"

Streams of sparkling diamond-like figures flowed out your sword as you jumped upwards, holding your katana over your head as you swung it effectively cutting half of it's body;

sadly, not his neck, as he covered it with a steel-like substance.

"Y/n!"

Giyuu called out, causing you to look back at him wondering why did he sound so worried

You saw he was looking horrified looking at your chest rather than your face

'why did he sound so-'

You were caught out of your thoughts by yourself coughing something liquid out of your mouth

You looked down at your chest, a large sharp metal shard piercing through the middle of your chest

"uh.. F-fuck.." you muttered stumbling back and falling against a tree vomiting even more blood feeling it a bit hard to breathe

"y/n! No!" giyuu shrieked running at your slumbering and bloody figure against the tree

"giyuu.. The d.. emon" You mumbled, coughing out a worrisome anmountof blood, the crimson liquid spilling out of your lips in mouthfuls.

"i cant leave you..." he whispered as of scared of starling you

"i cant you are in_" "... Dying"

You corrected him. Mastering the last energy you had to cup his face with your bloody hand while lying in his embrace

"i am.. Dying, Giyuu..."

"no.. No you are not.. You can slow the ble-" "my lungs are... damaged giyuu"

Tears burned his eyes, hugging you close to his chest and placed his hand over your cheek

"i.. Love you... Giyuu... So... Much.. " you confessed as you started to lose consciousness and struggling even more to keep your eyes open

You took a deep breath but sadly... It didn't come out again...

"y/n.. Y/n... Hey.." giyuu said with shaky voice as a couple of tears escaped his eyes

"hey...don't do this to me, love... I–i love you too... Why did you do this... I–i don't deserve this..."he said as he closed your lifeless eyes with his fingers

"i am sorry i am too useless to be able to protect you..." he was now on full mode sobbing

Oh how cruel is it that you didn't even hear the person you love saying thing you wanted to hear from him the most...

Obanai Iguro

No...

No no no no...

That wasn't supposed to happen...

The hit was meant for him...

It was meant for him damn it!

Why did you have to take it for him

He doesn't deserve it

He doesn't deserve to live

Why would he live while you are here dying in his arms gasping and wheezing for air

He is enraged

His fear tends to come out as anger

So while you are literally dying he is shouting at you for how stupid you are, how foolish to waste your precious live over his useless one

His shouting you mutter out an Inaudible : 'sorry... '

Just then the anger turns into tears

"you idiot..." he wailed... Actually wailed.. Something you never thought you'd see, not that you wanted to in the first place

It was supposed to be him...

"don't you dare apologise..." he hugged you even tighter feeling you fading away from him as you tried to breath but it only come out as a horrible choking sound as you choked on your own blood

His cheek rested on top of your head

"o-oba... nai.. " you said chocking in the middle of word as the hole in your chest began seeping even more blood

"g–give them.. H–hell for m–me... Yeah?..."

Oh he would...

He would make them pay for taking you away from him

For making the only person who kept him moving forward...

Is now cold and limb in his arms...

Sanemi shinazugawa

Fuck!

Shit! Shit! Shit! Fuck!

He physically can't handle what he is looking at

As he refused to stop saving you even after you already stopped breathing

"shit! Shit!" he pressed harsher on the wound, the blood was slowing but not because of his relentless attempt...

You were gone... Not even being able to get a word out because of how harshly he was crying

For some reason... Even in your final moments you found it kind of comforting that he was try his best to save you

You felt your heart break looking at him from the other side hugging your cold, lifeless body... Trying to squeeze some warmth into it even though he knows its useless

Kyojuro Rengoku

You coughed out blood as akaza hand went through your stomach

"Y/N! NO!"

You took the hit for kyojuro

I mean... How could you not... You just couldn't let someone like him die

You just couldn't...

Gripping your sword harder, you slashed it against his neck making his eye widen

'she got in my way! And she still has the strength!

Akaza thought as he was amazed at how you still has the strength to even breathe

'Kyojuro, im going to die. I know. We had a life planned in front of us, but..l couldn't let you die. I just can't'

You thought as The demon tried to punch your face, but you stopped it with your other hand

"Y/N!!"

'you won't get away... Akaza!'

Looking behind the demon, but still applying force on the neck, you looked behind to see Rengoku with the boy from before charging at you with their swords.

A smile got onto your face.

'I wont ever let go off the sword ..Until I cut his head off!'

"INOSUKE MOVE! MOVE FOR Y/N-SAN!"

The boar now charged at you with speed His attack cut the demons arms, your sword still attached to his neck.

He was running away, clearly.

The boy threw his sword at the demon,.

stabbing him through the chest. Followed by Screaming of how he was a coward by running away and that both Rengoku and you were stronger than him.

You felt two gentle pair of hands gripping your back, drops of water, or tears, to your cheek as kyojuro took you in his embrace trying to stop the bleeding even though he knows it's a fatal wound

"Y/n.. No. No..please don't leave me! Please! I beg you! I will go down on my knees if it have to!"

"kyo... It's okay..." You say voice barely a whisper as you gathered all the strength you had trying to put your hand on kyojuro's cheek.

He quickly took your bloody hand in his and put it over his cheek

"no no... The hit was meant for me to take... Why did you have to get in the middle... Why.."

"i just couldn't.. Let–" vomiting blood "y-you... Die"

You said panting feeling like you can't breathe anymore...

Kyojuro the brust out sobbing burying his face in your neck as your body laid lifeless in his arms

It was supposed to be him dammit!

He was supposed to be the one protecting you!

Not the other way around!

On the other side tanjiro watching the scene feeling his heart break over and over again

Another love story between two lovers was ruined by those disgusting Creatures

Tengen uzui

after a long and hard battle you had ended up dangling off the side of a cliff barely holding onto an also seriously injured tengen.

He could feel your fingers slipping from his.

you were both tired and injured it was a tough battle and despite the demons head being cut off you had taken some heavy blows and now you were dangling off the side of a cliff, barely conscious as tengen held onto your hand with his

"dont worry y/n! ill pul you up Soon!"

you could see him struggling to hold your hand and knew that if he held on any longer he might go down with you

watching him struggle above you made your heart ache as you couldnt do anything to help

"Ten.."

the both of you made eye contact with each other

"thank you for being with me... I love you so much"

his eyebrows twitched at your words

"why does it sound like youre saying goodbye? y/n. You better hold into my hand!"

his jaw was clenched as he spoke to you

you couldnt leave him

if only he had killed that demon sooner

if only he could have protected you

in this moment he hated the gentle smile that was on your face

because to him it meant he had failed

"we both know we'll both fall if you dont let go, neither of us have enough strength left to do anything."

"its okay ten, im ready. i love you and I'll always be watching over you. live well"

he could feel your fingers one by one letting go of his hand and he tried as hard as possible to not let go

"y/n please! I.. I can't do this without you... "

you just shook your head

"im sorry ten but you have to, i know you can. you're going to do great things, with or without me."

"always remember that i love you... And i'll always be watching you"

With that, the last grip he had on you failed

the serene smile on your face was the last thing he saw as you fell to your probable death,

shattering his heart

he screamed your name on the top of his lungs as your hands disconnected followed by painful sobs

Not again...

First his siblings now you..

He lost so many loved ones

of course he knew that he was too injured to pull you up and the most he could have done was just hold onto you until help came,

If help came...

he hated this,

he hated himself

what was the point of being strong when he couldnt even save the one person he loved most in this entire world

"Live well" it was one of the last things you told him hed try his best to because you asked him of it but to him living well meant being by your side which was something he couldnt do anymore.

Muichiro Tokito

poor baby doesn't really know what to do

he's kneeling beside you with a worried look

he's sweating and his hands are clammy

he remains silent for the most part

"Y/n?"

He is right next to you, hand nervously taking your own

"Don't worry."

you give him a weak smile as scary as it was, just his presence was enough.

"|-what do I do?"

The fear in his face made your heart clench.

"Just stay with me. You dont need to do a thing..."

You squeezed his hand with the last bit of strength

you had, smiling softly

"Be careful okay? There are still a lot of demons left"

You didn't fear death,

but you did fear what would happen to those you

loved once it got to you.

Kagaya ubuyashiki

This took place before the explosion in the final battle era

Your husband's hand is cold in yours. You squeeze his

fingers and watch the moonlight bleed out the color of

his skin into silver.

"Are you well, love?" you ask quietly. A washbowl rests to your side, the cloth draped over the side dripping droplets of water down the floor. You take it and wrangle the water with one hand as best as you can,

laying it atop his forehead after. Kagaya closes his eyes and smiles beatifically. It looks painful.

"I will be fine," he says. A mere whisper; it runs wild in the echoes of the night. "| am certain... After tonight, everything will be fine again." You hum thoughtfully. Your heart turns like a clock,

mechanical, a slave to fate. You dare not tell him anything.

"I wonder. . " Kagaya starts. "How does the sky look tonight, Y/N?"

You looked up at the sky as the clouds moved to reveal the beautiful moon

"it's beautiful..." you said as he leaned into your hand as you caressed his cheeks

"he is here..."

A long shadow blocks the moonlight. You look up.

Plum red eyes stare back.

"It's finally nice to meet you, Kibutsuji Muzan," Kagaya says casually.

A chuckle flits in your ear, honey-thick and suave.

Muzan's jacket rests precariously on his shoulders,

and the wind picks up, as if trying to steal it away. The sleeves whip around him uselessly.

"Well;" he says. "You sure look terrible, Ubuyashiki."

If you do not look too closely, you can still delude

yourself into dreaming that this is a normal family.

Your twins have not stopped playing, and their

laughter mingles with the song.

*after the speech because i cant recall it 💀*

"Kibutsuji" You incline your head, a mockery of respect. "You may have prepared for everything.. But there is one thing you didn't prepared for.."

"and what would that may be?"

"this–" you pulled out teh explosion monitor and jumped on kagaya and just before it explored a room open under kagaya's bed and you both fell into a room underground where your kids were waiting for you to come and there was a secret door which led to outside

But it was quite the fall, but you shielded kagaya's body with yours as you he fell on top of you

"Uhmm... " Kagaya groaned from the pain of the impact but more at the though that you were hurt from the fall and his weight together

"it's okay... It's okay..." you said as you cradled kagaya's fragile body

"i just need you to hold on for me... Can you do that please?"

The explosion was loud on top of you but what was more terrifying was the piece of wood of the selling above you that was about to fall

So you quickly pushed kagaya out of the way just as the piece of wood fell on your lower body completely breaking it

"y/n! " Kagaya yelled as best as he could as he heard your crying of pain

"i am fine! I am fine!" You shouted as you tried to stop the tears from dropping from the pain

"kiriya! Listen! Take your father and run out of here!"

"b–but mo–" "no buts! This piece of seilling completely crushed my lower par! You won't be able to get it out! Even if you did i'd be just a burden! I won't be able to run! No go! Go!"

Kiriya quickly carried his father on his shoulder as best as he could

"no... Y/n... If we die... we die together.. That's a promise..."

"well.. Look like i have a change of plans, sorry love"

You said as you smiled sadly at him even though he can't see it

*time skip*

"CAW! CAW! KIBUTSUJI MUZAN IS DEFEATED! KIBUTSUJI MUZAN IS DEFEATED! THE FINAL BATTLE IS OVER! CAW! CAW!"

Kagaya opened his eyes at the sound of the noisy crow.. And for the first time in years...

He sees the sky clearly as the curse marks started to fade from his body...

He quickly tried to ran into the place where his estate is supposed to be with only one though in mind...

'y/n...'

He opened his eyes clearly for the first time in years and the first face he wanted to look at was yours

"oyakata_sama! Wait! You are not fully recovered yet!"

The kakushi tried to warn him but he just didn't care

He wanted to see you, to touch you, to tell you how much you mean to him even though words cannot describe, to make sure you are alright

But what he saw made him stop and his blood run cold...

The estate.. His home... Your home.. Is now crumbled to pieces with you under all that

he quickly took off and tried to dig into the rubble in hopes maybe.. Just maybe.. You are still alive...

"master..."

The kakushis and the remaining of the hashiras felt thier heart break looking at thier master like this...

Nevertheless, they started to help thier master find his wife.. I mean.. You were like a mother and a big sister to them all...

"I found something!" one of the kakushi shouted as he saw your bloody hand sticking out of the rubble

They quickly ran to where he was and started digging even more, just as they reached your head they all stopped and stepped back for thier master to take a look at you...

"oh my dear..."

Kagaya quietly knelt down where your bloody upper body only was visible

He caressed your bloody

cheek just as you did with him a few hours ago...

Oh how beautiful you looked... Even if you were cold and pale with your lips starting to get blue..

He missed you so much that he almost forgot the way you looked...

You looked even more beautiful than he remembered even with the black circles under your eyes and the few wrinkles that appeared on your face and the grey hairs despite how young you are...

"oh love... How many times did i tell not to worry to much about me..." Kagaya whispered as he caressed your cold skin with a few tears falling from his eyes "like this you will age before time..."

He hugged you one last time before the kakushis free your body completely from the rubble and take you to bury your beautiful body

Today the world won peace.. But he lost his...

[vrystalius]

Hey babess, i have quite the heartwarming request.

So imagine that wife reader is heavily and her water randomly breaks so ofc she gives birth with the help of shinobu(i love her so much) and other midwives ofc. So how would the hashias react during the late stages of pregnancy and birth??

Hear me outtt, what if preg reader was pregnant with twins(im a big family girl lol, i had to let that out). Stuff stuff

Hashira’s reactions during your pregnancy

You’re heavily pregnant. How will your husband react?

Note: I didn’t include the gender and names of the babies, so you can choose the genders and names yourself!

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu x fem!reader

Includes: Food cravings, mood swings, sickness, talking to the baby, birth and a little bonus scenario in the end (different for every hashira)

Words: 5.1k, enjoy!

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Food cravings

What? You want to eat ohagi again? Sure it’s Sanemi’s favourite food, but you’ve insisted on eating ohagi for every day the past week. The baby needs some vegetables, fruits, vitamins and whatever else. Just anything but ohagi!

He couldn’t even watch when you proceeded to devour sweet potatoes with a chocolate sauce. The worst part is that Sanemi is the main chef of this household and was forced to cook all kinds of monstrosities for you during your pregnancy. But he never said a word about it and just silently judged you for even asking him to bake a whole fish just so you can covered it in sliced fruits and chocolate sauce.

“Are ya sure you’re not poisoning our baby? Are ya really, really sure?”

Sometimes, Sanemi’ll try to sneak in healthy foods into your diet like one would to with a toddler. He’d chop the vegetables as small as possible and try to feed them to you in bits by bits by incorporating them into your favourite foods. You weirdly enough never noticed how your ohagis began to taste like carrots more and more.

“What? No. I’m making them like always. I.. just used the same knife for both carrots and the beans of the ohagi… Whatcha looking at me like that for??”

Mood swings

It’s very confusing to Sanemi how you can be happily munching on your snacks in one moment and then began crying about a dog wandering the streets, thinking someone abandoned him. He’s putting up with it, though. He’d would take you into his arms and try to explain to you that no, that dog is not living on the street and that it belongs to the nice old lady that lives just down the street. He gets a little nervous every time you get emotional when standing in the nursery and inspect all the prepared toys and clothes. Why are you crying so hard? Do you not want a baby? Or are you just this excited to have one?

He doesn’t get your mood swings but’ll try his best to give you reassurance and support. Even though Sanemi’ll be a little awkward and just hover around you in fear of triggering another random emotion in you.

“Hey, darling… how about we move to the bedroom? The nursey is makin’ ya emotional. You’re gonna loose control over ya bladder and I’m gonna be forced to clean after ya. Again.”

But most of the time, Sanemi’ll get soft when you get emotional over the baby stuff like this. Sometimes, he’ll sneak into the nursery during the nights he can’t sleep and rumage all the baby’s things. Sanemi would look through all the neatly folded baby clothes Giyu send over and the toys Tengen’s wives made themselves for the baby. He can’t help but get a little teary-eyed himself, leaning against the crib and looking down at the soft mattress below. He just can’t want to have a little baby in there.

“Fuck, don’t sneak up on me like that! A-And ‘m not cryin’, I-I’m just checkin’ on the crib. Y’know, if it looks stable and shit. It gotta handle our fatass baby.”

Talking to the baby

Sanemi loves to lay his head against your stomach and just listen to the baby’s heart beat. His hand would gently caress your stomach while mumbling against your skin.

“Whatcha doing in there, hm? Why are you kicking your mommy? You’re hurting her, y’know.”

It’s a weird sight, seeing a strong man like him baby talking to your stomach while having his cheek pressed up against your belly. He’d take at least one hour in his day just to talk to your baby and tell it aaaalll about your and his day.

“Your mom threw up onto our new carpet and that’s your fault, you know that, right? I’m gonna kick your ass for it one day. Maybe when you become a shitbag in your teenage years.”

Sickness

“In both sickness and in health,” and Sanemi meant that wholeheartedly after speaking those words out loud during your wedding. Even if that means sitting beside you in the middle of the night, holding your hair and patting your back while you throw your guts up. He’s sleepy, he’s tired, but he won’t return to back without you. If Sanemi has to, he’ll cook up some tea or soup for you to calm your stomach. He’d even break Shinobu’s door down for some herbs or medicine if it means making you feel better and cuddling you back to sleep with no worries.

“You’re okay, I’m here. Don’t hold back.”

If you’re throwing up for a while, Sanemi might fall asleep in the hunched over position while holding your hair behind your head, his hand still firmly resting on your shoulder in quiet support. He jumps back awake when you throw up violently again.

“Ugh, you good? Told you seaweed n’ cherries don’t go together…”

Birth

Sanemi wanted to complete one last mission before retiring for good. He noticed how his muscles were starting to soften up and the callouses in his hands began to disappear. Just one last mission, then he’ll become a full-time dad! He promised you it’ll be for just three nights and that Shinobu will be looking out for you while he’s gone. You two can talk about preparations, body changes and whatever you two always talk about.

He was close to tracking this scum demon down when he received a message from his crow about you going into labour. Sanemi wanted to go on a mission one time, just one time! Can’t you hold the baby in or something until he comes home? He knows that he has to behead this demon before coming home. That thing already did enough harm and he didn’t want to retire on a bad note by ditching his final mission. So, Sanemi proceeded to chase the demon down while steaming in anger. He wanted to go on a mission just ONE last time, damnit!!

“COME BACK HERE YOU PIECE OF SHIT!! MY WIFE’S GIVIN’ BIRTH, WHILE I’M CHASING YOUR SORRY ASS!!”

Shinobu helped you through the whole process of giving birth. The contractions and labour lasted for almost half a day, and you managed to almost broke two of the three butterfly girl’s hand in an attempt to release some pain. You were supposed to hold Sanemi’s hand and almost break his bones while giving birth, not theirs! Shinobu kept reassuring you that Sanemi surely is already on his way! Surely. She had her soft smile on her face the whole time while you pushed and screamed through the pain, reassuring you and offering all kinds of ways to relieve pain during the whole process.

After Sanemi returned from his missions, he was staring at two babies in your arms. His eyes darted back in forth from the one to another. The baby on your left had beautiful white hair and was squirming around a lot, grabbing your robes and was seemingly already complaining about the lack of feeding you’re doing. The other baby had darker hair and was much calmer. It was asleep, resting against your chest.

His heart shattered in a million pieces after processing what just happened. In a good way, that is. He never commented on it, but Sanemi did notice that you were a little bigger for being pregnant with only one baby. He just brushed it off as being a bit bloated or the baby being really big, but never that it were two babies that were hogging all the food you were devouring. Sanemi was bawling his eyes out while holding both of his babies in his arms for the first time. They’re so tiny, so cute and chubby! How could anyone not love them? He was barely able to speak while trying to express how much he loves you and is so glad that you and the babies are fine. This is everything he had ever hoped for: a perfect wive, a family home and two kids. If only his other siblings were here to celebrate this moment with him. Perhaps he’ll allow Genya to visit every now and then.

“I-I- *hic* W-We need an-another- *hic* … the crib’s not b-big enough- f-for- *hic* gah, f-fuck!! *hic*

Bonus: A tight crib

You noticed how Sanemi insisted on putting the babies back to sleep every time they woke up during the night for anything. You usually fall back asleep and wake up in the mornings back in his arms, but tonight, you wanted to wait until he returns to bed to cuddle him. After the babies quieted down and your husband didn’t return, you dragged yourself out of bed and stepped into the nursery, only to find Sanemi laying inside the cramped crib, having the baby lay on one side and the other on the other. He was laying in an extremely uncomfortable position, with hid neck bend at an awkward angle and him laying in the crib with his legs dangling out over the edge. You couldn’t help but giggle a little, seeing your husband scarfing his own comfort for his babies.

“Nemi?…”

Your whispering made his eyes flutter open. His face contorting into a tired scowl.

“It’s the only way to put ‘em to sleep, not my fault they like me so much.”

Now, are the babies attached to their papa, or is Sanemi being very attached to them?

Kyojuro Rengoku

Food cravings

Whatever you’d like to eat, he’ll provide! Sometimes, if the combinations you come up with sound appetising enough, Kyojuro’ll even try some the foods alongside you! He will not judge you for craving weird foods during your pregnancies, but he is a little worried about your choices. You need to make sure that you eat enough nutrients for you and the baby! Kyojuro’ll try his best to cook up something nice for you, but he ends up buying take-out and feeding that to you instead. He’s scared he might burn something or accidentally poison you, so he’d rather leave food up to the chefs.

“I brought some tempura, some soup dumplings, ramen, udon noodles, mushed and baked sweet and regular potatoes. Oh! And some dessert… Mochi, dango and a slice of cake! Everything you ordered, my flame!”

Shinjuro, after finding out about your pregnancy, would offer to cook for you sometime. He used to make meals for Ruka while she was pregnant, so he thought he might make himself useful and help out. Kyojuro’s father actually vowed to stop with the drinking to make sure his grandkid doesn’t grow up around a drunk grandpa, so this is a first nice step for him. Besides, he feels guilty for being so terrible to Senjuro and Kyojuro.

His meals are surprisingly very well made and tasty. They soothe your nausea, lessen the swelling in the feet and help a lot with your headaches.

“Father, I never knew you could cook this good!” “Shut up and eat your plate.”

Mood swings

Kyojuro feels like he’s causing your mood swings sometimes. He feels guilty when you start crying over little things, like how your favourite tree is starting to change colours in the leaves, or just how much you missed your husband after him leaving for half an hour to get you dinner. He’s used to comforting Senjuro while the two grew up together, so he might know a thing about holding someone. Kyojuro would pull you closer and place lots of kisses on your head and top of your head, rubbing your shoulder with his warm hands. His warmth is very comforting to you, making you calm down a little.

“Are you feeling unwell? What made you so upset, love?”

He’ll try to cheer you up by talking about baby names. In his family, most of the names sound similar and end with an “juro”. Shinjuro, Senjuro, Kyojuro… how about Tojuro? Sounds nice, doesn’t it!? Or how about Kijuro? Or how about you combine your first letters with Juro? That sounds very fitting! And see, your tears are already gone!

“I’m not sure if we should think about girl’s names, my love! My family birthed sons for generations now! But we can write some down if you like, just in case.”

Sickness

Seeing you sick makes Kyojuro nervous, but he’ll stay beside you during your morning sicknesses and nausea. You kind of remind him of his mother, back when she was in the late stages of her sickness, that’s why he gets a little jumpy when you hunch over the toilet snd wretch your guts out. He’ll hold your hair and gently caress your back, silently hovering beside you.

To make sure you don’t have to get out of bed in the middle of the night to throw up, Kyojuro equipped your nightstand with a bowl you can throw up into anytime you felt nausea hitting you.

“I’ll make some tea for you once you get nauseous again, okay? My mother’s recipe.”

Talking to the baby

Kyojuro loves to talk to your stomach as if the baby is already out and able to talk back. He’d sit beside you in bed, gently caressing the side of your stomach while grinning brightly.

“What kind of hair will you have, hm? Like mine? Or like mom’s?”

Sometimes, he’ll try to convince the baby to let you sleep for once. If you can’t sleep, Kyojuro can’t sleep. He’d lay his head on your chest and sleepily mumble to the stomach while slowly rubbing your sides.

“You’re quite the active one, hm?.. mh.. How about we go to sleep together, okay? Be a good kid and give your mommy some rest…”

Birth

When your water first broke, Kyojuro thought the baby might’ve kicked your bladder or something, causing you to leak. But the horror on your face that followed soon after changed his mind in an instant. He sent out a crow to Shinobu, notifying her about your labour, but it might take a while until she arrives. In the meantime, your husband prepared all the things for a homebirth. You probably wont be able to reach the butterfly mansion in time to give birth there, but in the meantime, would you like water? Food? Sweets? A towel? Maybe not the last one because you’re able to hit him with that. You’re very angry about him impregnating you nine months ago while being in painful labour right now.

Shinobu surprisingly arrived very quickly and got right to work. Her soft voice and kind words as encouragement managed to calm you down as far as to not curse Kyojuro and all his ancestors out. Your anger directed at him actually helped you press the baby, so your husband happily sat there and held your hand while you were attempting to break it while redirecting your pain

Finally, after hours on hours of labour, Shinobu’s encouragement and Kyojuro’s hand turning blue from blood being cut off, you birthed two identical twins. Both had your husband’s flamboyant hair colour and prominent eyebrows. Your husband was trembling and crying after seeing them for the first time. His babies, his kids! And two of them?? In one go?? This couldn’t have gone any better. For around the next hour, while your babies were nursing on you, he kept thanking you for everything you ever did for him.

“I-I love you! I-I love y-you! Th-Thank you for marrying m-me, my fl-flame! Than-Thank you for giving me t-two babies! Thank y-you! T-Thank you!!”

Bonus: Tasty hair

Your babies are for some reason obsessed with your husband’s hair. Maybe it’s because of how bright his hair is or how nice it is to chew on it. You caught Kyojuro offering his baby his hair to hold and play around with, only for it to start pulling tightly on it. It hurts a little and he’s not quite sure how his baby got this strength out of nowhere, but he’s incredibly happy that his baby likes his hair so much!

But he also learned that the twins prefer their grandpa’s hair a little more over his. Shinjuro doesn’t appreciate it as much as Kyojuro is, though. He tolerates them pulling on his hair but doesn’t like it. At all. He’ll glare at his son until he finally takes his baby away from his damn hair! His scalp is already burning!

(But we all know that Shinjuro takes them back into his arms on purpose to tickle their stomachs and to let them pull on his hair as they please. They’re just too cute!)

“My flame, could you help me remove our child? This one seems particularly fascinated by the taste of my shampoo!”

Gyomei Himejima

Food cravings

Gyomei will not always give into your odd cravings. Instead, he’ll try to redirect your cravings to tastier things. He’s worried that you don’t get enough nourishment for the baby and for yourself, so Gyomei’ll try to feed you healthy foods instead of eating the creations you came up with. Why do you even thought about eating pieces of clay you picked up from right next to the waterfall? You’re lucky Genya caught you before you managed to take a bite.

To be completely honest, Gyomei is incredibly worried that you’re eating things you aren’t supposed to eat while he’s not watching/listening.

“Love, what are you chewing?”

His calm and deep voice makes you stop munching on the raw onion and immediately put it back down onto the counter of the kitchen.

Gyomei insists on cooking for you, even if he’s blind. He’s surprisingly good with cooking and always manages to slip vegetables into the meals in the tastiest way possible! You somehow never notice and just are incredibly happy that he takes some time out of his day just to cook meals for you! Sometimes, Genya joins in when you two eat and just chats with you about your husband’s training and his big brother. He’s also very curious about your pregnancy and how you’re coming along. That boy is just as excited about your baby as your husband is! Genya even gifted you one of his best bonsai trees to keep in the nursery!

“Miss Himejima, are you still hungry? You can have my plate if you like, I’m going to meet up with Tanjiro to eat later in the city together anyway.”

Mood swings

Gyomei understands that your hormones are going a little crazy during your pregnancy, but he still gets a little surprised when your mood changes so suddenly. You get emotional mostly over Genya and how hard he’s training to make up with his brother. You cry everytime when you see him train hard under Gyomei. Your husband finds it kind how much empathy you’re feeling for that boy, but the poor boy can’t really concentrate when a crying pregnant lady watching him train. So, your husband suggested you to not watch them train as much anymore and instead do something else. As compensation, Gyomei promises you to tell you everything he and Genya have been doing that day.

Sometimes, when you get angry out of nowhere, Gyomei’ll just let you throw your little tantrum while listening you silently. After you finished, he might suggest exorcising you as a joke to lighten your mood, but his serious tone and unmoving expression made him look like he’s serious. Wich makes you cry.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m not going to exorcise you, I promise, my pearl. I would only do that in the extrem case.”

Sickness

Gyomei knows how to deal with sicknesses and nausea. Once you express feeling sick in any way, he’ll prepare a special herbal tea, open up all the windows for fresh air, feed you crackers and dry food, and of course, equip you with a bowl to vomit into just in case. He’ll sit with you in bed, your head laying on his thighs and his palm resting on your forehead, slowly petting your hair.

He’s mumbling quiet prayers for you and your baby, his deep and smooth voice calming your stomach slowly. Gyomei’d smile softly while having his eyes closed. You told him that his smile is always making you calm, so he’s trying to smile more often for you.

“How are you feeling? I can brew you another cup if you like, it’ll help you.”

Talking to the baby

Gyomei barely talks to the baby while you’re awake. He’ll sometimes lean down and mumble a couple of greetings and kind words before moving on with his day, but when you fall asleep at night, your husband likes to have one-on-one conversation with his child. He’d have his large palm resting on your belly, rubbing it up and down. Gyomei sometimes nuzzles into your sides and places a few kisses on the side before talking.

He’d be praying first, making sure that the baby is alright and’ll come healthy into the world. Then, he’d quietly talk about you. Your husband’ll talk about the things you like to do, about how emotional you get over Genya, how you pout everytime he leaves early in the mornings to train, how much he loves you and how you insisted on get even more toys, even though the toybox is already filled to the brim.

“We are both very excited to meet you… please be more kind to your mother until birth. Her bladder is not as strong during the pregnancy, so do not test it again.”

Birth

Gyomei was praying the whole time he was waiting outside the chambers of where you were currently yelling in pain. His eyes were closed in concentration and his palms rubbing together, his red pearly beads wrapped around his hands. He could hear every mumble of Shinobu to Aoi, every curse you’re throwing around and every bed creak after changing the position. Shinobu suggested that Gyomei should wait outside since he’s quite large and they need more space to move around you. You promised to him that you’ll be fine on your own. He has been crying and praying, crying and praying the whole time for you and the baby, until finally, everything got quiet. Your cries died down, but there wasn’t any signs of a baby crying either. Gyomei was silent, stopping his prayers for a moment.

Until finally, first one baby, then another started to cry out. Two? You were carrying two miracles in your stomach all this time? Shinobu permitted Gyomei back inside and allowed him to meet the babies for the first time. They felt so incredibly tiny in his arms, so so tiny and fragile… The babies are the most precious things, and he felt like the luckiest man in all of history, holding his babies in his arms. His voice was very shaky and more tears than usual were running down his face.

“My love. I thank you for all eternity for giving me this gift… thank you. I am incredibly grateful for everything you have ever done for me.”

Bonus: Who’s who?

Given that Gyomei’s blind, he has always relied on his senses to move through the world. But funnily to you, his senses fail to differentiate wich baby is who. Sometimes you catch your husband holding one of the babies, standing silently there, thinking about who exactly he’s holding right now.

“Need some help, dear?”

Your voice made him turn his head towards you, smiling slightly.

“Yes, I already fed one of our twins. I went to retrieve more milk and lost track of wich one I already fed.”

His voice sounded a little confused but also slightly amused. Stepping closer, you saw how the baby that was laying in the crib was uneasy and wiggling it’s legs around, while the one Gyomei was holding was calm and content. You figured that the squirmy one wasn’t fed yet and took the sleepy baby out of your husband’s arms, setting it back into the crib and taking out the other.

“Here, this one seems hungry, hm? Aren’t you?”

You sweet-talked the baby a little, tickling the little stomach, making it giggle and kick against your husband a little. Gyomei nodded quietly.

“Thank you. I have yet to figure out how to differentiate our twins properly.”

Giyu Tomioka

Food cravings

He’s a little confused out by your requests that keep getting weirder and weirder. Are you sure you want to eat that? If Giyu would eat that, he’d be throwing up. Oh wait, you actually are vomiting up regularly…

Giyu will give you everything you asked for, but hesitantly. Before placing the plate down, he’d eye you up and down, judging you heavily for what he’s about to dish you. His silent judging eyes are enough to second guess your life choices that made you ask your poor husband to cook mashed potatoes mixed in with strawberry yogurt and sakura mochi with fish filling. Perhaps you’ll take the miso soup instead.

Sometimes, he’ll get so worried he approached Shinobu by himself and asked if there’s any medication he can give to you to make you crave less weird things and eat more healthy. Sadly, there is nothing like that, so Giyu’ll eventually resolved to force feed you regular foods instead. He’ll sit you down and feed stir fried veggies, rice, eggs, soup, tea, dessert and whatnot. Anything else but the monstrosity you keep craving.

One time, he caught you mixing chocolate sauce and soup together in the middle of the night. Giyu was just standing in the doorframe, looking utterly defeated and distraught at your actions.

“I love you, but can you stop poisoning our baby? I want it coming out of you alive.”

Mood swings

Giyu feels like he’s the reason you feel upset so suddenly. Perhaps he should’ve cleaned the house more, or finally finish building that crib. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so angry so randomly. He still is quite surprised how quickly your emotions can change from happy to sobbing about the cuteness of the teddybear Giyu brought home for the baby. It’s confusing.

He’ll try to comfort you the best he can, but your husband already struggled to comfort you when you’re not pregnant and had real reasons to cry about, so how is Giyu supposed to comfort you when you sob over the rice being undercooked?

He’ll just awkwardly pull you into a side-hug, rubbing your shoulders gently.

“Do you want chocolate? I heard people eat chocolate when sad. Or do you just want a hug?”

Sickness

You throwing up and being sick is making Giyu sick. While you throw up into the toilet, your husband would hold your hair back while leaning over the sink, trying not to vomit himself. After your morning sickness passes, he still remains crouched over the sink for a moment longer before preparing a ginger tea for the both of you. He’ll lay in bed for a while, cuddling the blanket while sipping on his tea. He looks like a wet, depressed cat, sipping on his tea with a straw while lying on his stomach like that. He mostly recovers after finishing his tea, but sometimes, he gets really sick. You’ll be forced to take care of your nauseous husband who is supposed to be taking care of you right now! How is he supposed to handle watching you birth your child? How can he slay demons but is not able to watch you throw up?

“Love… can you get me another cup of ginger tea? I’m getting sick again…”

Talking to the baby

Giyu didn’t start talking to your baby until you encouraged him to do so. You told him that talking to the baby creates a bond before it’s even born! So, he’ll slowly start conversations with your belly. He’s not sweet-talking to your stomach, but instead awkwardly holding a conversation with it as if he’s speaking to an adult. Giyu’d sit across you on the bed, his hands propped on his thighs, leaning forward slightly.

“So… how is it like inside the womb? When do you want to come out and meet your mom and dad?”

Birth

Giyu was very panicked when you went into labor. He send out a crow to Shinobu immediately and began assembling something similar to a throne made out of towels and blankets. He forced you to sit down and make yourself comfortable while he waiting on the porch to see when the butterfly hashira is coming. His grip was to tight on the fence of the engawa, he accidentally shattered the wood.

He tried to watch you giving birth, but once he saw the head slowly press out of you, he couldn’t anymore. Giyu held your hand in support and let you squeeze as hard as you want, but he was turned away your lower body, facing you instead. Once he heard the baby’s cries fill the room, he snapped his head around in an instant.

Your husband almost fainted when he saw another baby slowly squeeze out of you. Shinobu handed Giyu the first baby, wich was already wrapped in a towel, so she could direct her attention back to the second baby. His head felt dizzy while holding his baby, not able to comprehend that he’s about to be the father of two. He only build one crib, there’s no room for another. Is he even capable of raising two kids? What if they outnumber and team up on him once they grow up? Now he has twice the chance to fail at parenting and become a bad father!

But once your husband held both babies, all his worries washed away. It was like he was in some sort of trance, watching the babies just sleep and squirm around a little. Giyu didn’t even notice how he started crying until his tears fell onto one of his baby’s forehead and started crying.

“Ahh… uhm. How do you calm a baby down? Do you just rock it? Uhm. Help me, please-“

Bonus: How are you supposed to know what they want?

You watch your husband stress out over why the baby is crying for so many times already, and they’re only two weeks old. You caught him talking to your baby multiple times, just straight up asking what they want. He’s slowly starting to get desperate and you can see it.

“You want food?… No? You wanna be held? Maybe… play? Also no? What do you want then?”

Somehow, only you could understand when and what your babies want. Giyu watches in awe as you immediately figure out that the baby wants to be held and fed, and how quickly they calm down afterwards. You’re just magical, truly.

“How do you know? What do you know that I don’t?”

💠

Phew, this took a while to write! Hope you enjoyed this anon! I tried to incorporate the requested things in this ask from another post of mine, but I might’ve forgotten some. Anyways, my posts haven’t gotten much traction lately, so I hope this one’ll do a little better! I’m looking forward to reading all the reposts and comments you leave, I read every single one of them! Just know that they make me smile like an idiot <3

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

Note: Over 200 Notes!! Tysm!! <33

— I’d like to credit my cat as a co-author and professional purrer.

[azrielbrainrot]

Baby, You Know That I Miss You

Pairing: Band Member!Azriel x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Phone Sex, Guided Masturbation

Description: You miss your boyfriend terribly when you go visit your parents during break. Luckily, he's more than willing to help.

Warnings: Smut, phone sex, guided masturbation, dirty talk

Word Count: ~2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: This story is part of my Band AU as well as Kinktober, but you don't have to read their other stories to enjoy this one since it's basically all smut! Also I'm not too sure if this is all that good but we move. Hope you enjoy!

Band AU Masterlist

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

“I didn't know I was going to be so busy all day,” you say with a sigh, happy that you finally get to relax in the comfort of your own bed, “but at least I get to listen to your voice.”

You were a bit sad that you missed a performance, it was the first one you didn't attend since you became official, but because of it your schedules ended up aligning perfectly and you got to talk to him for a while before going to sleep, when you texted him this morning you thought you wouldn't be able to.

Coming home for break, after what happened the last time you were here had been a bit nerve wracking. You didn't know if you would have to run into Eleanor or Parker, and you didn't know how you would react if you did. Luckily, you hadn't seen them, and you found that when your mother mentioned them you didn't really feel anything besides some mild resentment at the way you were treated, all the anger and sadness that just their names evoked a couple months ago had mostly subsided.

If you were being completely honest, forgetting about your childhood best friend had been a lot easier than you thought possible. You were sure the fact that she hurt you so badly that there wouldn't be any possible way to salvage your relationship helped, since it made forgetting her truly the only option, but most of all you had to thank Azriel and your friends, old and new, for it.

The hardest part of being home for these last two weeks ended up being away from Azriel. Yours is still a relatively new relationship, although sometimes it felt like you had known him your entire life, and so it was hard to not be able to see him for so long when you were spending almost all of your free time together. You missed sleeping in his arms, missed watching him and the boys practice, missed the dates at the small café by his apartment you'd found together, the way he held your hand when you went on walks and, Gods, you missed his touch.

“Want me to tell you a story?”

“Anything is fine as long as it's coming from you,” you admit, his deep whispered voice enough to send a gentle warmth traveling through your veins. Azriel hums, something obviously on his mind. “What?”

“You always liked the sound of my voice,” he muses, letting the words flow from his lips slowly but confidently, knowing it would get a reaction out of you and prove his point.

“Well, yes but that's normal.” You try to keep an indifferent tone, but you know he can easily hear through it. “You're a singer for a reason.”

“We both know it's not just that,” he murmurs, and you can almost hear the smirk growing on his lips, can picture the confident yet alluringly attractive look that always falls over his face when he knows he's affecting you, one that unfortunately only makes it worse. You find yourself squeezing your thighs together, wishing he was right next to you instead of in a different city, so you could kiss that smirk off his lips and let him show you all the different ways he can affect you.

“Don't do that,” you breathe out, almost pleadingly, every hint of sleepiness escaping your body.

“Do what, princess?”

“That,” you say a bit too loudly, calming down and lowering your voice when you add, “not when I'm three hours away.”

Azriel sighs, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest, needing to feel your hands on him as much as you do. If you were in your apartment instead of at your parent's house, you might have gotten out of bed and made your way to his house with how needy you were starting to feel.

“It's a shame that I can't sit you on my lap right now and whisper every dirty little thing I want to do in your ear.” Truly a shame, you think as you press your legs together. “But we can try something else.”

“Try what?”

“Just want you to do as I say,” he explains, desire dripping on every word. You bite your lip, his intentions now crystal clear in your mind. This wasn't something you had ever done or even considered, but you feel a shiver of excitement run down your spine at just the thought. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, heart beating wildly behind your ribcage as you hear the rustle of sheets through the speaker.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

You let out a soft chuckle before answering unashamedly, “Yes.” You had taken to stealing some of his shirts to sleep or wear around your house before you even started dating, though stealing was probably the wrong choice of words seeing as he either let you or even gave you some of them himself. His shirts were not only comfortable but they also smelled like him so they quickly replaced your own old shirts you used to wear to sleep before.

Azriel lets out a hum, one that sounds more like a moan, probably lost in the thought of you touching yourself while wearing his shirt before he gathers himself and starts, “Want you to run your hand over your stomach, feel how warm and soft your skin is.” Your hands follow his commands easily, mimicking the way he caresses your skin instinctively, desire growing within you with every brush of your fingers.

“Now push your panties to the side,” he continued, voice getting deeper as he spoke through a clenched jaw, his own hand likely occupied as well, “tell me what you find.”

You knew what you'd find even before your hand traveled down to do as he said, a sigh escaping you all the same when your fingers dive between your folds, feeling just how soaked you were, a string connecting them to your cunt when you pull away.

“Are you wet for me?” The pleasure was obvious in his voice, and you had no doubt in your mind that he was stroking his cock as he spoke, the thought making your cunt clench around nothing.

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding along even though he can't see you, swirling your fingers around and making a mess of yourself, careful to avoid your clit and entrance no matter how bad you need to take some of the edge off, waiting for him.

“Good,” he moans out, “Fuck, you're so good to me.”

If you closed your eyes, you could picture him laying on his bed, sheets thrown off his body and underwear long since discarded to the side, hand stroking his thick cock slowly, moving up and down as he also imagined what you looked like as you followed his orders, and wished it was your hand instead of his own.

“Now take your panties off,” he says after a moment, waiting patiently as he hears you shimmy them off your legs, sighing as you spread your thighs and bend your knee before letting him know he could continue. “Take two of your fingers into your mouth.”

“Azriel-”

“Need you to get them nice and wet for me.”

A whimper escapes you as memories of him saying these exact words rush into your mind. He loved seeing your mouth stuffed with his fingers, your tongue swirling around them as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. You almost tell him you didn't need to get them any wetter, your cunt was quite literally dripping, but you do as he says anyway, tasting yourself on your own fingers, pretending they were his instead, making a show of sucking on them and pulling them out with a pop just so you could hear the groan he lets out, a tremble running through your body at the delicious sound.

“Done?”

“Yeah,” you muse, entirely too proud of yourself for managing to get under his skin so easily.

“Alright,” he rasps, “Now roll them around your clit slowly, pretend they're mine.” You can't help the whimper of his name, your fingers circling your clit just like he said, closing your eyes and pretending it was his rough fingers instead of yours.

“Good girl,” he chuckles, “don't even gotta tell you to moan my name.”

“I need to be quiet though,” you remind him, remind yourself. If it was simply your roommate in the room down the hall it would only be a bit embarrassing, but it's your parents instead and them hearing you would be nothing short of mortifying.

“Such a shame,” he muses, the smirk almost audible on his voice. “You always sound so pretty for me, saying my name in that sweet breathy, fucked out voice of yours.”

“Azriel,” you whine, putting more pressure behind your fingers, - you really didn't think you needed much more to cum, especially if he kept whispering in your ear like that, - breathy, quiet moans pushing past your lips despite your warning.

“Like that,” he lets out between pants, fist tightening around his cock as well, “Just like that.”

“Keep talking, Az,” you murmur, your heart stuttering in your chest with every harsh breath you hear through the speaker, wanting to hear it in his voice. “You sound pretty too.”

Azriel only hums, staying quiet for a moment longer before letting out a groan. You hear his head knock softly against his headboard as he leans back, and briefly wonder if he could hear the sinful noises your cunt was making every time your fingers moved.

“Fuck, princess. You have no idea how much I wish I could taste you right now.” You did actually, you were burning with the same need. “Wanna bury my face in that sweet pussy of yours, make you cum on my tongue over and over again until you're all I can taste.”

The moan that pushes past your lips is entirely too loud for the quietness in your house, but you can't help it as the picture he paints assaults your mind. You're reminded of the feeling of his tongue against you, lapping up at your cunt until you're shaking with pleasure under him. Gods, you couldn't wait until you saw him again next weekend.

“Wanna taste you too,” you confess, speeding up your movements, mouth watering at the thought.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Think I could cum just thinking about you choking on my cock, trying to take all of me down that tight throat of yours.” Closing your eyes and biting your lip, you do your best to keep as quiet as you can, his filthy words sinking into your bloodstream. It felt like you were on fire even though you had long since kicked your sheets off your body, - you didn't think it was possible to be this turned on alone in your room.

“Fuck,” he chuckles, a ridiculously attractive sound, “I think I might.”

“Azriel, I'm-”

“Close?”

“So close,” you pant, right on the edge, your hand moving incessantly, goosebumps running through your skin.

“I'm right there with you,” he murmurs, “Cum for me, princess. Let me hear you.”

You let yourself fall as soon as he finishes speaking, mouth falling open in a silent scream as you're hit with wave after wave of pleasure, a few whines of his name pushing past your lips despite your efforts to keep quiet, the praises he lets out going straight to your head.

Azriel cums not soon after, his own pants and muffled moans of your name echoing through the speaker as you're coming down, making you feel all tingly knowing he just came as hard as you did without you ever touching him, and still your name was on his lips. It's unfair the way this man makes you feel, even when he's so far away from you.

“I decided I'm going to lock us in your room when I get back,” you speak up after you take a deep breath, only half joking.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm,” you continue, wiping your hand on your discarded panties, cringing softly at the feeling, knowing you have to get up and clean yourself up properly. “You're mine for the entire weekend.”

“You can lock us in for as long as you like,” he murmurs, “I'm all yours.”

[koqabear]

Attention

♫: 5 STAR, CL

“Yeonjun thinks there’s nothing better than to wind down after a show with his pretty girlfriend— Beomgyu also thinks there’s nothing better than winding down after a show with Yeonjun’s pretty girlfriend.”

yeonjun x fem!reader x beomgyu

Genre: rockstar!au, smut, pwp, established relationship w/jjun 

Word count: 5.8K

warnings: mc has acrylics. that’s it. 

smut warnings: hard/mean doms! yeongyu, sub!mc, threesome, strength kink(?), scratching, pet names (baby, good girl, etc.), name calling, dry humping, spanking, breast play, manhandling, degrading, fingering, oral (f&m rec.), choking, marking, biting, hair pulling, mirror sex, dumbification, slight brat taming?, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dacryphilia, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, unprotected sex, size kink, bulge kink, rough sex, creampies, mentions of safe word, facial, sloppy seconds, slapping, spitting, lmk if i missed anything 🤗

Notes: i’ve recommended every genre but rock for this.. final part of rockstar!txt, and my personal favorite; this was still barely edited—enjoy tho bc i definitely branched out quite a bit here >w<

Your legs feel shaky as you make your way away from the stage— whether it’s from adrenaline or anticipation for what’s to come, you’re not really sure. 

Another successful show has gone by with you in barricade; pushed up against the barrier by other eager, sweaty bodies, forced to endure another intense show in favor of watching your boyfriend perform— there’s a strange sense of satisfaction that you get from it, watching the way they all crowd around you and try to take your spot, hands reaching out desperately for even a brief touch from him. 

The most they’ll ever get from him is a brush of his fingers against theirs— but even that is enough to have them screaming in your ear, jumping eagerly as they don’t stop to realize why Yeonjun might be so eager to hog the section they’re currently in. 

You’re fully aware; maybe it’s because he’s always quick to spot you during his shows, sending you a wink before he’s striding over— subjecting you to a few hours of flirty and suggestive behavior, able to drink in the way your doe eyes look up at him with every thrust of his hips or growl of his voice— and if you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve almost missed the quirk of his lips as he drank in your reaction desperately.

Your body felt a bit more buzzed than usual— maybe it’s because you were subjected to the absolute torture that was Yeonjun purposefully teasing you, completely ignoring you and sticking to the side opposite yours in favor of teasing and interacting with other faceless fans— you still remember the way your jaw dropped as you watch him reach out to a fan, holding her hand and winking playfully as he clearly mouthed a ‘call me’ to her.

Luckily for you however, you were quickly distracted by a different sight— meaning, Beomgyu and the way he very obviously seemed to stare you down every chance he got; where Yeonjun began to lack, he quickly took charge, lingering by your side and even taking a moment to go along with the way you reached out to him playfully, allowing him to hold your hand as he sang his part directly to you; you could feel deathly stares from both the fans around you and Yeonjun after that.

So now, here you are; one elaborate firework show later and the fans finally began to disperse and the crowded pit finally began to empty— leaving you, alone and antsy as you began to make your way backstage, where you knew a staff car was waiting to take you to the hotel Yeonjun was currently staying in.

Your leg is bouncing the entire ride there— fans outside seem to think the van you’re in may contain a member of the infamous band, and you watch with a small smile as they line the sidewalks and wave cluelessly; for a moment, you almost feel bad. 

You’re at the back entrance in the blink of an eye; that could also be attributed to the fact that you may have dozed off on your way there, but you don’t really mind it as you find yourself much more energized as you make your way out the van, thanking your driver before you’re off. 

Room 705, you tell yourself, pressing the number seven on the elevator as you lean back on the railing— you let out a soft, exasperated sigh as you make your way up, feeling the nerves from before creep up on you the longer you wait in this eerie silence— you’re practically running the moment the doors open, eager to see your boyfriend as you feel a wide smile form on your face. 

A moment passes after you knock on the door. 705, you reassure yourself, glancing back at the room number as you rock on your heels, waiting impatiently for someone to answer. Just when you begin to wonder if you’ve got the room wrong, pulling out your phone to check your messages with Yeonjun, the door suddenly swings open.

And you’re immediately pulled in. 

If the air hadn’t been knocked out of your lungs as Yeonjun pushed you roughly against the door, the way he captures your lips in a needy kiss definitely did. Your mind is spinning and you’re barely able to process what’s happening as you moan into his lips, feeling his hands wander up and down your sides, shivering at the feeling of his hands on your bare skin. 

You’re left to place your hands helplessly on his chest— you don’t bother to push him away though, indulging instead in the way his firm muscles tense under your hands, the thin material of his tank top not leaving much room for the imagination as you let your nails scratch and grasp at the material. 

He’s clearly reluctant to pull away as you begin to pat at his chest, attempting to signal your lack of air as he finally obliges after a second of struggle— you’re panting and dizzy as you take in the way his lips are swollen and shiny, his eyes lidded and dark as he takes in your outfit with a breathy chuckle. 

“Seriously?” he asks, reaching up to play with the hem of the shirt that barely covers you, the words “I ♡ TXT” written across them boldly, “You couldn’t have gotten one of those I heart my boyfriend shirts with a little picture of me? I saw a ton of fans wear those today.”

You scoff. 

“I dunno, I think this is more eye-catching— especially because it means that I don’t have to rely on getting the attention of just one of you.”

“Ohhhh, is that right?” he asks, tilting his head innocently as he wraps a hand around your waist, a cute smile on his face as he begins to walk backward to lead you further into his room, “Is that what your little attitude was about back then? Did I neglect you, baby?”

You pout. You hate when Yeonjun gets like this, teasing and petulant as he tries to back you up into a corner, trying to get you to say the wrong thing and set you straight by fucking you until you can’t think— it makes you feel undeniably small before him.

“Well, you did ignore me during the second half of the concert,” you admit, and you try to take a step back from him only to get pulled back in, your view obscured by him, “Seriously, you didn’t even come to our side.”

“You felt ignored?” he pouts, cooing softly at the way you meekly nod in agreement, “But Beomgyu didn’t ignore you. Isn’t that right?”

“Yup. Made sure to take good care of her.”

It’s only then Yeonjun lets go of you— he’s behind you now, interlocking his hands over your navel and pulling you back against him as he slots his chin on your shoulder— your stomach drops, and you’re able to feel the way Yeonjun presses against you perfectly from behind. 

Beomgyu lays back against the headboard, looking up from his phone as he sends you a pretty smile and a wave. 

“Shit baby, when did you get this skirt? It barely covers you.” you’re blinking out of your stupor as you feel Yeonjun grinding against you, your body beginning to rock from the motion as you grab onto his forearms weakly— you’re startled, unable to help your weak whimper as you take in the way Beomgyu stares at you with hungry eyes. 

And Yeonjun’s absolutely right— the pleated skirt is so short that it’s already ridden up, and you can feel your eyes hazing at the way he grinds his cock against your ass, against your panties that are already beginning to become soaked and sticky from your arousal. 

“You know, I saw the way you were so eager to interact with gyu once I left,” he purrs into your ear, punctuating his words with a harsh thrust that has you bouncing and yelping weakly, “Have I been neglecting you that much, cutie? Am I not enough for you?”

“No, no no no,” you babble, already too stupid to make coherent sentences despite having yet been fucked, “Saw you flirting with fans, I just… wanted to get back at you, ugh—!”

Your mouth is falling open at the feeling of Yeonjun’s hand falling sharply on your skin— your ass stings from the sensation and your back arches in response, and Yeonjun’s free hand snakes its way up to grope your chest, pressing you back against him and spanking you again as he laughs darkly in your ear.

“Get back at me? You know I was just doing my job, right?” he’s mocking you— it’s mean and belittling as he rubs the stinging area for a second before landing another smack— hmm? he hums, egging on your response as his hand squeezes your breast warningly.

“You still ignored me,” you whine out, clearly not the answer Yeonjun wanted as he scoffs and undoubtedly rolls his eyes; he lets go of you, and you let out a soft yelp at the way he pushes you toward the bed— you stumble and fall face-first into it, bouncing on the mattress before you’re looking up in a daze— you’re meeting Beomgyu’s wicked smile the moment you come to your senses. 

“Okay baby, if that’s how you wanna play. You really seemed to enjoy Beomgyu’s attention today, how about you get some more?” You’re not sure what he may mean by that until you’re being moved; you’re seated in Yeonjun’s lap on the bed, a pained whimper ripped out of your throat from the way he tugs your hair and pulls your head back— you’re staring at the ceiling as you feel your legs get thrown over Yeonjun’s, left to his mercy as he spreads you open completely. 

“Fuck. Such an attention whore, aren’t you? How are you so wet already?” his tone is so, so mean and mocking as he rubs a hand over your panties, two fingers pressing down against your entrance as he watches the way your folds spill out from the action, hissing quietly before he’s laughing softly, “Did a little bit of grinding do all this to you? Or…”

He leans into your ear— he places a kiss behind it before his teeth begin to nibble at the flesh, laughing airily as his hands begin to rub up and down your trembling thighs. 

“Were you thinking of getting fucked the whole show?”

Your lips fall into a silent gasp— Beomgyu’s lips are leaving open-mouthed kisses at the inside of your knees, his soft hair brushing against your skin as you attempt to look down at him— only to squeeze your eyes shut, Yeonjun’s long and slender fingers coming up to press down on your throat and hold your head up as he prevents you from looking, adding more pressure as he takes in the way you squirm from his grip.

Your hands are gripping your skirt. It’s bunched between your fingers as you attempt to close your legs, only to be stopped by Yeonjun’s as he continues to hold you open— in response, he spreads his legs a bit more, indulging in the pained whimper you let out from the stretch. 

Beomgyu’s lips are inching up your thigh. He’s sucking and leaving marks, teeth teasingly sinking into the flesh as he takes in the way you jump and whine at the feeling— your eyes are screwed shut, and all you can hear is Beomgyu’s breathy laugh before he continues to make his way up. 

Beomgyu is nothing but cruel as he continues to tease you; you think you might begin crying as you feel his lips begin to kiss softly at your clit, the feeling barely there as you begin to whine petulantly.

“Don’t be like that,” Yeonjun scolds, taking the way you’re practically trembling, “Shouldn’t you be thankful Beomgyu’s here to give you some attention? If you keep this up, I’ll just make you fuck against a pillow and leave you here while I go out for drinks with the others. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

You can feel Yeonjun smile against your jaw as you frantically shake your head no. He gives you a chaste kiss on your cheek in return. 

“Good girl. Now be patient, okay?”

God, how can you be patient when Beomgyu is still teasing you over your panties? They’re soaking and you feel pathetic as he continues to toy with you with his tongue, clearly eager to make you messier than you already are as his spit continues to soak the rest of your panties through— the whine you let out once he presses his tongue flat against your entrance is pathetic, but you don’t have any energy to feel embarrassed from it as he begins to press against your panties in an attempt to fuck you with his tongue.

You don’t know how long this goes on for— all you know is that you’re shaking and you feel your eyes sting with tears by the time his fingers begin ghosting along your thighs, his soft groans and sounds that come from below only leaving you more needy by the time his fingers finally hook under the waistband of your panties. 

Your hips lift eagerly as he slides them down, and you don’t bother to take their teasing comments seriously as you blindly buck your hips toward Beomgyu’s face instead. 

“What’s got you acting like this?” Yeonjun asks, his voice deep and gruff as he speaks in your ear, “Don’t tell me a little bit of teasing is what’s got you like this.”

A little bit of teasing is a severe understatement. You’re trembling over Yeonjun and your voice is breaking as you protest quietly— and if your boyfriend thinks you haven’t felt the way he’s been bucking and rutting his hips into you this whole time, he’s sorely mistaken. 

All your spite melts away the moment Beomgyu gets his mouth on you— you’re jolting in surprise at the feeling of his face pressed flush against you, his tongue entering you with ease as he begins to fuck you with it like you desperately wanted; his nose is brushing against your clit and your hands blindly go to tug at his hair in a weak attempt to pull him closer still, entirely shameless of the way your hips grind into his face to chase pleasure— the way he groans and hums against you only makes your head spin, tugging at his roots weakly in an attempt to distract yourself.

Yeonjun’s hand presses against your throat— the pressure has you going dizzy, and you don’t seem to realize that he’s tilted your head back down until he’s squeezing teasingly, growling in your ear to look.

Slowly, your eyes flutter open. 

“Gyu…”

The said man’s eyes flicker up to gauge your expression— only he finds that you’re not looking at him, but rather behind him— in other words, straight at the full-length mirror you sit in front of, hazed eyes taking in the sight of you on your boyfriend’s lap, his hand on your throat and the other pushing up your crop top to play with your breasts, followed by the sight of Beomgyu kneeled between your spread legs, his head neatly tucked under the skirt you wear as he diligently goes back to eating you out like a starved man.

Your mind has gone dumb from the stimulation— so much so that you were barely able to keep track of the hands on your body, your chest jutting out from the way Yeonjun plays with your nipples and your thighs shaking from the way Beomgyu massages them teasingly. You think you might just receive a noise complaint from the way you can barely keep your sounds down, your hips beginning to roll against Beomgyu’s face as you feel your orgasm beginning to approach. 

“So fucking loud,” Yeonjun growls, his hand leaving your tits before he’s putting two of his fingers into your mouth— and like the “good bitch” you are, you take them without hesitation, your lips sucking on them while your tongue runs along his fingers diligently. 

It does little to muffle your sounds, however. You can’t take your eyes off the sight in front of you, incredibly needy as you begin to push Beomgyu against you and practically suffocate him with your pussy— but, judging by the way he groans in response and moves his head side to side before pressing firmly against your cunt, you don’t think he minds it.

“Is he making you feel good? Yeah?” Yeonjun asks, cutting off your frantic nodding before he’s shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue— your mouth is left open and you can only watch helplessly as drool begins to gather at the corner of your lips, your hips jumping up at the way Beomgyu’s tongue toys with your clit before he’s back to fucking you— the way you react to the action has him repeating it, and it isn’t long before you’re letting out a long whine and cumming all over his face. 

“Good girl. Fuck that’s so hot, that’s right, ride it out…” Yeonjun’s hand leaves your neck in favor of gripping your hips and guiding your movements, grinning wolfishly at the way you simply cry softly and wrap your lips around his fingers in response, a stray tear running down your cheek as your mouth falls open weakly once more, beginning to melt from the way Beomgyu has yet to pull away, feverish mouth still on your cunt as he begins to clean you up despite your weak cries of overstimulation. 

Beomgyu’s face is shining from your arousal by the time he finally pulls away. He’s sitting back on his knees and looking up at you with puppy eyes as he pouts, swollen lips reddened as he takes in the way your pussy still glistens from your arousal and his spit, your body twitching from the aftershocks as you merely whine once your eyes meet. 

“Felt good baby?” Yeonjun asks you, letting you go before he’s laying you back on the bed— you’re reaching out for him, grabbing his shirt and tugging him back to you in a weak attempt to get him on top of you, only to fail miserably— he chuckles softly before his hands come up, encasing your own before he’s pulling them off; his gaze darkens. 

“Show me just how much you liked gyu’s attention, yeah?” he asks, and you watch with wide eyes as he begins to step away, ignoring your weak attempts to get him to come back before he’s getting comfortable on a chair across the bed; squeezing your legs together, you’re left helpless as you watch Beomgyu rise to his feet and begin to hover over you instead. 

“Don’t you wanna be good for him?” Beomgyu asks, placing a tentative hand on your waist and watching as you shiver from the sensation, “For us? Hmm?”

The pathetic whine you let out in response is enough for him, watching as you shyly reach up to grab at his shirt before you’re pulling him towards you. 

Beomgyu’s hands are big and warm as he places them on your thighs, sneaking to the underside and pushing them against you as he begins to spread you properly— you’re left folded and at his mercy as you simply look at him with curious eyes, fingers splayed neatly on your chest as you begin to play with your breasts absentmindedly. 

You’re shameless as you watch Beomgyu take his cock out— even more so when you begin to squirm, eyes widening slightly just from the mere sight; god, he’s huge. 

“What’s with the reaction baby?” Yeonjun calls out, and you’re snapped out of your daze as you look at where your boyfriend sits, slouched in the chair and palming himself casually as he watches, “Something on your mind?”

You shake your head no— but as Beomgyu slowly aligns himself with your entrance, leaking tip beginning to glide along your cunt as he spreads your arousals, you can’t hold back the shaky whimper you let out, your voice breaking from the sound as you grasp at the sheets under you. 

He’s big— just like your boyfriend, who always has to take his time prepping you before he finally fucks you; the only difference here, however, is that Beomgyu has never fucked you before, so he certainly won’t be aware of the struggle he’ll be met with as his tip finally begins to prod at your entrance, testing out the waters before he finally pulls out again. 

Yeonjun, however, is fully aware of this fact.

Maybe that’s why you take in the way his lips quirk up in a mischievous smile as Beomgyu finally begins to enter you— hissing at the stretch, going insanely slow due to the way you clench down on him like a vice, the feeling enough to make him cum if he’s not too careful. 

You’re a trembling and squirming mess under him— your eyes are screwed shut when he grabs onto your hips, telling you to stop fucking moving as the sheer strength of his hold is enough to have you freezing. 

“Shit, such a cute little thing, always begging for attention— don’t even care that it’s not your boyfriend fucking you, huh?”

God, this is so embarrassing— especially with the way you practically melt at Beomgyu’s touch, weak whimpers flowing from you the moment you feel him bottom out, hips pressed flush against yours as he simply… remains still. Clenching around him pathetically, all shame is thrown out the window as you begin to attempt fucking yourself on his cock, trying to get any stimulation you can before his fingertips are digging into your skin— a clear warning to fucking sit still, as he growls out. 

Slowly, he pulls out; you can feel every vein that runs along his length from how slow he goes, your walls fluttering in a desperate attempt to keep him inside as you let out a soft whine— he quickly rams into you after that, ripping a shameless moan from you and making your body jostle back against the mattress, only to get pulled back into him by his hands. 

He’s able to build his pace that way— your body is his to control as he begins fucking you, rutting into you wildly as he takes in the way your eyes glaze with pleasure, weak cries and moans escaping your mouth as he simply smiles down at you coyly.

“Beomgyu,” you hear Yeonjun say, though you don’t have the strength to look over at him as you watch Beomgyu turn his head over, his thrusts slowing to something deep and slow as the two seemingly converse— you’re unable to hear what your boyfriend says, but you know he’s up to no good as you pick up on his last words.

“Do it, you’ll see how much she likes it.”

Before you can question what he could possibly mean by that, a choked cry is leaving you; Beomgyu has returned his rough pace of fucking you, your words dying on your tongue as you’re left to pant and moan pathetically— your back arches off the bed the moment you feel his hand fall on your stomach, pressing down on the bulge of his cock inside you and watching the way you bite your lip in a failed attempt to conceal the squeal he rips out of you; the pressure of his hand makes you tighten around him more, and the laugh he lets out would be enough to embarrass you if you weren’t so fucked out. 

“Like feeling me? Am I too big for you, sweet thing?” he asks, whiny and attempting to mimic your tone as he sends you a pathetic pout, no doubt a reflection of your expression, “Can you feel me, baby? Feels good?”

Your eyes roll back the moment he brings your hand over to press on the bulge yourself; you’re letting out a soft fuck that has the two men chuckling, only able to come to your senses long enough to see that Yeonjun has begun to stroke himself where he sits, dark gaze never leaving your body as he watches everything with interest. 

Yeonjun is mumbling something again— it makes your heart race that you’re unable to pick up on it, much more focused on the way Beomgyu continues to fuck you to be able to pay attention to the conversation the two are having; before you can take any offense to it, Beomgyu is pulling out, the two of you hissing from the suddenness of it all before he’s guiding you to move. 

“You look so pretty like this.”

Yeonjun’s smile is warm as he meets your gaze— though you’re unable to see it for much longer, your head being pushed into the mattress as Beomgyu raises your hips a little more, landing a slap to your ass before he’s thrusting into you fully in one go— you think that if your face hadn’t been buried in the sheets, you definitely would’ve been scolded for being so loud. 

This position allows Beomgyu to fuck into you a little rougher; something Yeonjun told him you just go crazy for, and he knows it must be true if the way your walls flutter and suck him in are any sign, the feeling making it harder for him to not dump his load inside you then and there. 

“Pull her hair,” Yeonjun grins, watching as you nuzzle your face into the mattress for comfort, “She loves when you do that— isn’t that right, baby?”

Beomgyu doesn’t need to be told twice; he’s grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging you hard enough that you’re being pulled up, pressed flush against his chest as Beomgyu’s hand snakes around your waist and circles your clit— if it weren’t for his arms that held you up against him, you’re sure you would’ve collapsed back down from the sheer pleasure.

His hand lets go of your hair in favor to wrap around your neck; his index finger taps at your cheek as he begins to put a slight pressure, watching as you become lightheaded and struggle to open your eyes upon his request. 

“Don’t you want your boyfriend to see how good you’re getting fucked?” 

His words shouldn’t spur you on as much as they do— but the way Beomgyu continues to spew absolute filth in your ears paired with the way Yeonjun stares at you as though he’s ready to pounce on you any second has you nearing yet another orgasm— and judging by the way Beomgyu hisses into your ear, you’re sure he notices it.

“Shit, such a greedy thing, so desperate to get fucked that you don’t care who it is, hmm?” Beomgyu says, laughing softly at the way you begin to squirm from his grip, “Feel good? Gonna cum on my cock? Hmm? Don’t even feel guilty that your boyfriend is watching you get fucked so good, just wanna get used, isn’t that right?”

You’re barely able to keep track of the shit Beomgyu is saying— all you know is that you’re intoxicated with the way his voice sounds, strained and shaky as his broken moans interrupt his sentences, the sound of skin against skin overwhelming your senses as you finally come down— your eyes are shutting tight as you feel yourself go weak, falling limp under Beomgyu’s hold before he lets you go entirely— and you’re falling back into the mattress, grabbing desperately at the sheets in a weak attempt to ground yourself. 

The sudden rush of blood to your head only amplifies everything as Beomgyu lets you ride out your orgasm; he’s rough and unrelenting as he chases his own high, reassuring you quietly that he’s almost there, just a bit more, be a good girl and take it, okay?

It doesn’t take long before Beomgyu’s pace is stuttering, his hands gripping your waist and using you as a fucktoy as he begins groaning that he’s close. 

“Want me to cum inside?” he asks, his voice breathy and dazed as he watches the way you simply whine and nod your head, “Yeah? Dump my load and fill you up like a good cumslut? Love letting me use you how I’d like?”

A weak yes! yesyesyes! is all that leaves you before he’s burying himself as deep as he can and cumming inside you; you feel so warm and full as you feel him spurt his cum inside you, whining quietly and nuzzling more into the blankets as you let him ride his orgasm out.

A moment passes— he has yet to pull out.

“So?” Yeonjun asks, a lot closer than you expected as he suddenly takes your hair and forces you up, ignoring your weak protests with a roll of his eyes, “What do you think baby? You want more of his attention, or are you finally gonna apologize for being such a fucking bitch to me?”

You let out a noncommittal whine— Yeonjun’s brow quirks in interest, but he simply looks back at Beomgyu with a soft smile. 

“Think you can dump another load in her?”

Beomgyu’s cock is already hardening inside you— the whine you let out is left in vain as Yeonjun simply directs his hardened cock to your lips, tapping his leaking tip against them as he begins to spread his arousal along them, smiling wickedly as you send him a pleading smile. 

“You know how this works, doll,” he hums out, smacking his dick on your lips with a soft laugh, “You know the safe words; you say it and everything stops— so stop acting like a helpless bitch.”

Softly, his hand taps your cheek.

“Now open up, won’t you?”

You’re obedient as always as you do what he says immediately. Your eyes are watery as you allow him to use your mouth just how he likes, the vibrations of your moans from the way Beomgyu continues to fuck you making Yeonjun pathetically bite his lips to conceal his sounds— of course, it doesn’t work, and all he’s left with in the end are swollen and reddened lips you’re fighting the urge to kiss. 

By the time Beomgyu is cumming inside you again, Yeonjun is above you groaning that he’s close; you’re whimpering at the feeling of being filled a second time tonight as Yeonjun takes his cock out and furrows his brows in concentration, taking in your fucked out face before he spills his load all over you; your eyes close as you feel the spurts of cum land on your lips, cheeks, and shirt, over the bold I ♡ TXT  as Yeonjun only smiles with pride; you’re whimpering pathetically as Yeonjun proceeds to use his sensitive tip to spread his release across your lips, hissing quietly as your tongue darts out to lick it teasingly. 

“Yeonjun,” you whimper out, looking up at your boyfriend with eyes that almost make his knees buckle, “Still need you. Want you inside me.”

He grins— how could he deny such a request?

In the blink eye, you’ve changed positions, now lying on your back— Beomgyu is no longer inside you, sending you a wolfish grin as he places one last kiss on your head, patting your thigh slyly before he’s sending you off to Yeonjun; after all your teasing and subjecting himself to watch for so long, Yeonjun can feel his refractory period turn to ashes the moment he finally slides himself inside you, your thighs dripping with Beomgyu’s cum as more comes out the moment Yeonjun bottoms out. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, moving slowly before he’s forced to stop from the feeling of you clenching around him, “How are you still so tight? Did you miss me that much, pretty?”

Without a second thought, you nod— Yeonjun simply laughs at that, beginning to move slowly and watching the way your face contorts in pleasure before he’s glancing back to the chair he sat in, making eye contact with Beomgyu as he sends him a grin. 

“You know, she really likes it when you do this,” he says, taking your legs and throwing them over his shoulders as he begins to fuck you roughly; you’re yelping and crying from the overstimulation, highly sensitive as hot tears begin escaping your eyes, “Don’t you, baby? Feel good right now?”

“Too— too much, jjunie,” you hiccup, though the way your pussy tightens around him says otherwise, your hands are desperate to grab onto something as you hold onto your skirt, crumpling the fabric in your hands as you allow Yeonjun to pull your shirt up, feeling the way his expert fingers play with your breasts and tug at your nipples, the movement almost memorized at this point.

“Too much?” he coos, not slowing his pace for a second as he watches you nod, taking in your teary eyes hungrily, “Want it to stop? Gonna say the safe word?”

You don’t respond. 

“‘Course you won’t,” he hums, slapping you softly and huffing out a laugh at the way his cum has begun to dry on your face, the feeling filthy as you simply whine, his hand cupping your face and squeezing your cheeks until your lips are forced in an open pout; he leans in, his hair brushing against your forehead as he continues to fuck you. 

“You love being used as a cumdump too much to say it, don’t you?”

Without a further warning, his index finger tugs at your lower lip, forcing your mouth open a little more— then, he spits. 

You come undone shortly after.

Yeonjun’s pace doesn’t slow down throughout any of it; not when you squeeze him so tight your cunt is practically choking his dick, not when you begin squirming and crying under him, and certainly not when he feels his own high approaching, only fueled even more when your pretty acrylics come up to dig at his shoulder, letting out a loud cry as he hits a particularly sensitive spot and scratching along his back, the stinging sensation enough to set Yeonjun off as he cums inside you— he sits back and watches as even more cum leaks out, your body already exhausted beyond relief as you simply let your eyes close and your chest heaves as you catch your breath. 

Yeonjun is rubbing your thighs soothingly, waiting for your eyes to flutter open again before he begins to speak. 

“Was that enough attention for you?” he asks— he’s hovering over you again, a mischievous smile growing on his face as he looks down at you and the mess he’s made, “I think you deserve a bit more.”

Fuck Yeonjun and his petty grudges. 

[gurugirl]

SHE LIKES TO WATCH | HOTHUSBAND!HARRY

Summary: Harry and his wife have an interesting lifestyle but when they invite you over for a night of fun you realize you're more into it than you thought you'd be.

Word Count: 4,817

Warning: smut, cucking (sort of - minus degradation), hothusbanding, sharing of a partner, size kink, watching a partner have sex with someone else.

Main Masterlist | send me an ask!

. . .

Harry and Vana always threw wild parties. You’d known the Styles’ for a while and nearly every month since you’d met them they had big get-togethers that sometimes turned a little chaotic. For example, sometimes a friend would stay over with them and you wondered (others wondered too) if Harry and Vana had that friend over to play with for a threesome.

Harry and Vana were an interesting couple. You weren’t sure what to make of it. You liked them both. Harry flirted with everyone. Men and women alike. And sometimes you noted his flirtations were not so innocent. But Vana never seemed to mind. Which was confusing because you certainly wouldn't want your husband or partner to be grinding on someone else, running his fingers through their hair, whispering into their ear.

One of your friends said he thought they were swingers. An acquaintance said that his wife was a cuckquean (which was something you had to look up because you’d never heard of that before). But you didn’t know for sure because it wasn’t your business.

And that night Harry had his sights on you. He’d flirted with you before, kissed your hand once, and gave you one of those goodbye hugs that was overtly intimate and had you feeling all jittery and gooey. But this time was different. He kept talking to you closely, brushing his hand over your arm, your fingers, and your back, complimenting you. Grabbed your hip when you were dancing…

Harry ran his hand over the back of your neck and spoke into your ear, “Would you mind if I kissed you?”

You breathed out in disbelief as you eyed his wife just as she passed into the kitchen.

You were shocked! You turned to him with your eyes wide and fuck if he wasn’t so goddamn attractive you’d have slapped him across the face. Even if part of you really loved how he was touching you and the way he was staring at you all night but you just couldn’t stomach the thought of kissing a married man.

That had been your limit. You turned on your heel and walked up to his pretty wife as she cleaned the kitchen after half of their guests had gone home. You were going to end this nonsense once and for all.

“Your husband just asked if he could kiss me.” You stood back to look at her face and assess her reaction but she just smiled gently and pulled at your fingertips, “Did you want to kiss him?”

Your mouth dropped open and you looked behind yourself, Harry already standing there looking innocent, and then back to his wife, “What do you mean? He’s your husband! I just wanted to let you know he’s been flirting with me and that’s–“

“Oh, you’re cute,” Vana cooed and then looked over your shoulder at her husband, “She’s worried I’d get mad.”

Blinking your eyes in confusion you felt Harry’s hands on your shoulders and then his warm breath on the back of your ear, “She likes to watch and listen, Y/n. She wants to see what you and I would look like together. If you’re into it. Just a kiss. Doesn’t have to mean anything.”

It took a bit for your brain to wrap itself around his words and let them sink in. But when they did… boy were you feeling some kind of way. It wasn’t something you could quite put into words but it had you feeling spacy and hot.

But that’s how you found out that Vana and Harry were into sharing or hothusbanding. Another thing you’d never heard of. Hotwifing you’d heard of thanks to raunchy porn suggestions on your Twitter feed you never asked for. Vana liked watching her husband fuck other women or knowing he had fucked other women. You never were too wild or kinky with any of the people you slept with. Sharing had never been on your radar of limited interests and kinks. Until the Styles introduced you to it.

It started off with kissing Harry in front of his wife that first night. You let yourself get wrapped in his arms as he softly worked his lips against yours and then he pressed you into the kitchen counter and you felt the thud of his heart under your palm as you pressed your hand into his chest.

And it excited you. It felt so strange to have someone watching you but also… so thrilling.

“If you want to do this with us let me know. We’ve got next Friday night free.” Harry told you as he walked you out to your car before kissing you again. His wife watched from the door.

You nearly chickened out too. It was a lot. You didn’t know if you’d really be into it once things started to get heated. But Harry and Vana assured you they’d only go as far as you wanted. If you wanted. There was no pressure. But it was clear they wanted you.

So you obliged and showed up at their house that Friday all fresh and nervous.

Vana greeted you with a hug. She was wearing a loose-fitted t-shirt and bike shorts. “I’m glad you came.”

The two of you sat down at their kitchen table and Vana made small talk, which helped calm you a bit. It felt like you were just friends having a normal chat. Until Harry walked in. He was wearing jeans and a cream sweater, sleeves bunched up to his elbows, and his hair looked like he’d already had sex. He kept his gaze on you as he sat down next to Vana and she looked at her husband with a grin.

“How are you feeling?” Harry’s first words to you that night.

“I’m okay. Kind of nervous. We’ll see, ya know?” You laughed.

Harry nodded and moved a big hand up to the back of Vana’s neck, “Okay. We’ll take it one step at a time. See if you like being watched. Vana’s ready to share me with you so you don’t need to worry about her. We’ve been through all this before. Have had a few others come around. We don’t typically keep anyone long-term but have no problems being friends after. Some get jealous or can’t handle that I’m loyal to Vana first and foremost. She’s my wife so she has the final say over everything.”

You nodded as you listened to Harry spell out the details and ground rules. Vana was the one that got them into the “scene” in the first place. He didn’t share the nitty gritty with you but there was a medical problem that made it so that Vana didn’t enjoy having sex as often as they once did. And even before her issue, she’d always pushed for having threesomes with other women and would often wind up watching in fascination.

“It’s just something we’ve both come to really like,” Harry spoke, his fingers still gently running up and down the nape of Vana’s neck.

“And it’s one of the only things that turns me on. Watching him with someone else. Or knowing he’s with someone else. Sometimes he meets people outside of the house and comes back to me with pictures or videos. It makes me feel human when I get aroused. It’s like I need to watch him making someone else feel like that and it’s… I can’t explain it really but I do get this surge of lusty jealousy? But it’s not jealousy like with anger. Just something that’s welcome in a way.”

Vana explained it’s almost like cucking but without the degradation (she didn’t like being degraded or disrespected) because she liked watching but also enjoyed picking the person and having some element of control.

Harry reached across the table and moved his fingers over your knuckles, “You still want to go through with it?”

Nodding you let out a breath, “I think so. Yeah.”

You were sure you were insane for it but you were intrigued.

He pulled away and stood up from his chair, “Let’s go into the master bedroom. We’ll get comfortable in there together and see what happens.”

You followed Harry into the bedroom, Vana behind you. The bed took up a good deal of space. A soft armchair was in the corner of the room facing the bed. You didn’t know exactly what to expect but you assumed Harry’s wife would be sitting there.

Harry gestured toward the bed, “You can stay dressed if you like or take your clothes off. Just do what’s comfortable.”

You opted to stay dressed. Until you were sure things were happening.

Harry moved in next to you on the bed, your feet dangling off the side as Vana sat in the chair and crossed her legs.

“I can stand outside of the door for a bit while you get started if it makes you feel better,” she offered, “I like listening just as much as watching.”

You shook your head, “I don’t think… I mean, it’s fine like this. I think.”

Harry laughed and placed a hand on your thigh, “That’s all right. If you change your mind just say so.”

You looked into Harry’s dazzling green eyes as he smoothed his palm over your leg and up to your hip, “You’re so pretty, Y/n. I’ve thought so since the first time I met you. Vana told me I should hook up with you months ago but I wasn’t sure you’d be right for it.”

You licked your lips and moved your gaze to his mouth as he spoke, “But I think you’ll be perfect for this now that I’ve gotten to know you a bit.”

You could feel your heart rate pick up as he leaned in closer, his hand on your hip, “Can I kiss you?”

A quick nod yes and you were enveloped by him in an instant. Like he was waiting for the yes to attack.

His hot mouth smeared against yours and made you woozy. Hands pushing you further into the bed and whispers against your lips that you were sure only you could hear.

“You’re gonna feel so good… so sweet for me… she’s gonna love watching how good I make you feel…”

You were getting dizzy as you let your tongue swirl against his and you smoothed your hand under his sweater to feel the steamy skin of his chest.

And as his lips pressed between yours, you felt the virile muscle and hair on his chest when his sweater rose up. He pulled it off and your eyes didn’t know where to look first. Dark inky designs on his chest and arms, muscled pecs and abs, warm skin…

You felt his hands on the bottom hem of your shirt, lifting, as he pressed his lips against yours again.

You wanted to get out of your clothes. Wanted to see more of him and find out what would come next. You didn’t know if you’d go all the way but in that moment, you were fine with wherever the night took you. The switch had happened so fast. From being unsure if you wanted any clothes off to needing to rid yourself of all the layers so you could feel his hands on your skin.

Harry’s mouth and his moans were like an aphrodisiac. He kissed you like he needed his mouth on your skin for air. You helped him tug your shirt off when his lips drew down your neck and he caged you in by your hips, “Got me so hard, Y/n. This fucking body… Want to eat you alive…”

You moaned and lifted your hips as he traced his mouth down your skin until he was stopped by your waistband. Lifting his gaze up to yours you moved your hand to the button of your jeans and unplucked it, “You can take them off.”

A low moan, that sounded similar to a growl fell from his chest as he worked your jeans down your legs and then you felt his big palms smooth up your shins, to your knees, and then your thighs before he dipped back down to finish bringing his lips over your hips and to the elastic band of your panties.

It was soft kisses over your skin and then to the insides of your thighs as he pushed your legs apart just enough to fit his face between them.

Pushing yourself up to get a better look your eyes came into contact with Vana’s. She was watching the whole thing from her chair, lips parted, and eyes dark on yours.

Your attention was pulled back to Harry when you felt his tongue trail up the inside of your thigh to the crotch of your panties. The overgrown stubble on his face scratched at your soft skin as he ran his tongue up each side and nuzzled into your crotch.

When he looked up at you with his seafoam eyes and raspberry lips you stuffed your fingers into his hair, just so you could feel it between your fingers.

“Can I eat you out, Y/n? Smells so good.”

You nodded and immediately his fingers were looping into the waistband of your thong and he tugged them down your legs and off in haste.

You gasped at how quickly he rid you of your last item of clothing but as soon as you felt his mouth connect with your cunt you dropped your back into the mattress and gurgled a loud moan.

He slid his lips and tongue over you slowly, unscrewing the last bit of tension and doubt you had about having someone watch. Having his wife watch. In fact, there was something so illicit and so titillating about having Vana there.

He’d bracketed you in with his arms to keep you still as his tongue and mouth worked you into a frenzy. Wiggling, whining, wet. You couldn’t help the sounds coming from your throat or the way your fingers pulled at his brown hair.

But the sound of your pussy being eaten right in front of his wife just made everything far hotter than it might have been if you two were alone.

“Oh fuck! Oh… sssshhit!” You panted.

Harry moaned against your clit and then he slid an arm away from one of your thighs and you felt the slow stroking of his fingertips running up and down your drenched pussylips.

And like it was second nature, you rolled down against his fingers and pressed the tip of his digits inside to feel it.

It was a signal you wanted more. So Harry obliged, dipping his fingers inside of you through to his knuckles before he began fingering your pussy in a steady, seductive pace.

You wondered how many women he’d done it to. How many he had finger fucked and eaten out right in front of his wife. Wondered how many he’d fucked with his cock. Whatever that number, he was good. Really fucking good.

And you were tipped over the edge when he slurped and flicked his tongue over your puffy bud and pumped his long fingers inside of you to coax your orgasm out of you. You had your mouth opened wide, desperate moans falling from your throat as your body relented to Harry’s fingers and his lips as you came.

“Can’t even speak it’s so good, huh? Only giving me those pretty moans. Listen to her Vana. She’s fucking crying…”

You could hardly react to his words other than to whimper as you began to settle and eventually melt, his fingers slowly pulsing inside of you until he ran his thumb over your sensitive clit and you pressed your thighs together quickly and rolled to the side, his fingers sliding out of you.

“Got my hand and face soaked, Y/n. Who knew you were such a messy thing? Knew you’d love this…” you felt his hand on your hip, pulling you back toward him.

Your chest heaved as you pushed yourself up, still floaty and ears stuffed with cotton as you looked from Harry to his wife, a shy smile on your face.

“How do you feel?” Vana spoke.

Nodding you caught your breath, “That was… yeah. Very good. Still tingly…” you laughed.

Vana grinned widely, “Good. That’s what we want. You’re really pretty with Harry’s mouth on you. Even I’m all wet now after watching that.”

“And you’re still okay too?” You asked her, just to be sure.

“More than okay. I’d love to see how you two look having sex, though. If you’re up for it.”

You looked at Harry who had his brows raised at you, waiting for your answer. A nod and a small laugh puffed from your lips, “Okay.”

Harry began to unbutton his pants, moving from the bed to stand to get them down his legs. He watched you closely as he palmed at his hard cock, the prominent bump at the front indicating you were going to be in for a nice treat.

Vana stood up and tugged at Harry’s boxer briefs and you noticed she was holding a condom, “Wish you didn’t have to use this. One day I want to see you creampie a pretty girl for me.”

Harry grabbed his wife by the front of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss and you watched their tongues clash together before he let go and Vana returned to her seat, tucking her legs underneath herself.

You didn’t mean to be dramatic but when Harry’s briefs were discarded to the floor you gasped and sat up, eyes focused on the meaty, swollen organ that hung heavy and thick.

Dimples scored into his cheeks as he placed the condom over himself and Vana laughed, “It’s nice, isn’t it? Everyone reacts like that when they see it. Women love his cock. You’ll feel every bit of that inside of you too.”

You swallowed as Harry got back onto the bed next to you and pulled you down to your side, his lips pressed to yours. You felt his hand grip at your thigh and drag it over his hip, pulling you close against him so you could feel his cock nudging against you and then drag through your labia.

It was slow and sweet, the kiss. But if anyone else were to peer into that room they’d disagree. It was filthy and debauched. You were lying with a married man as his cock slid against you and his wife watched from her chair in the corner.

“You want me to fuck you, Y/n. Make you come on my cock while Vana watches?”

You moaned into his mouth, “Yes. Fuck me.”

He smiled against your lips and gripped your thigh tight before he pushed you flat and he was suddenly over you, thighs against yours as you spread your legs and he pressed his tip into you before pulling all the way out, “You sure?”

Nodding you moaned, “Yeah.”

He smirked, raising his head to look at his wife as he finally dipped back in, slowly pushing through your walls and moaning with every inch he fed you. You kept your eyes on his chest and his jaw as he watched Vana’s face. Like he needed to imagine it was her he was tucking himself into.

And it was a salacious, pleasing stretch. When his hips pressed into yours and he dragged himself back and then plunged in again you moaned at the way he filled you and filled you again. He thrusted in and in and then you let out a cracked moan and finally, he looked back down at you, the girl he was actually fucking.

He sucked in through his teeth as he let his pupils examine your face and then your breasts and tummy and then the obscene view of his cock submerging into you, “Look at you taking it so well. Looks like that barely fits but sounds like you like it, Y/n.”

You nodded and inhaled sharply, “Fuck… yes!”

Your mind was swirling and ebbing with thoughts between how good Harry felt ramming into you, how hot it was to have his wife watching, to wondering if you’d recover from this and be able to move on after. You could tend to be attached quickly and sex wasn’t something casual for you normally.

But then Harry’s hand smoothed over your nipple and he grasped your breast softly in his palm with his mouth parted and you could see how much he was enjoying you. How he liked the way you felt under him. You could hear the sound of Vana moaning but you couldn’t take your eyes off Harry’s face as he began to force himself in deeper, harder, faster. His abs clenched and his chest flushed as he fucked you into the mattress. The mattress he and his wife slept on together… you all but forgot any worries you had because your brain was mushy peas as he drove into your pussy; it seemed to wipe out all pertinent thoughts other than that you were getting railed and it felt like heaven.

“She’s so wet for your cock, Harry. How does it feel inside of her?” Vana cooed.

Harry grunted and slowed his rutting hips as he sat back, keeping you flush against his hips as he grabbed onto your thighs and pulled you with him. Your back was arched over his thighs as he kept plunging himself in, “She’s so tight and warm, Vana. Her body looks so hot getting fucked too. Looks so good with my cock inside of her like this, her perfect pussy is just sucking me in. She needs to come so bad.”

You gasped when his thumb slid against your aching clit. Harry’s eyes were on yours when you focused back in on his face, “Look how pretty she is on my cock. I knew she would be. So sensitive too,” he gritted.

“Mmm… god that looks like it feels so good. So fucking jealous she can feel you like this, Harry. Make her come. I want to see her face. See how much she loves it.”

You were conscious but you were so far gone. All your body and your mind knew was how delicious everything felt as your orgasm started to slowly blossom. Harry stroked over your bud, up and down with pressure that built and built and built as he continued fucking into you.

The sound of smacking flesh filled the room, wet squelches with every thrust, and the soft moan of Vana as she enjoyed the show.

Harry’s fingers pinched into your hips as he held you tight with one hand, pasting your pussy against the base of his cock as he rutted into you, while he used his other hand to run his fingers over your clit.

You were powerless to it. You began to tremble and cry as your pussy clenched over him and your orgasm uncoiled from your tummy.

“Oh that’s so pretty, fuck, Harry, look at her.”

He was looking at you. Watching your face twist up in bliss as you came all over his cock. Wave after wave as he fucked into you made you delirious and you reached for his arm and held on, “Oh god… oh god… need that, Harry! Need you!”

Your words didn’t mean much. You were in the throes of your orgasm and neither Harry nor his wife minded your pronouncements. Sometimes even Harry would get into it and say things he didn’t mean because that was sex. It kind of did something to the brain in the moment of peak ecstasy.

When you felt him pulling out and warm hands grazed over your hips and your tummy, up to your breasts and face you fluttered your eyes open to see Harry grinning down at you, “Felt good didn’t it? You’re a pro at this already, Y/n. Got you off so fast, sweetheart.”

You laughed softly and nodded, “Guess I did come really fast.”

“Mind if I get you in doggy so I can get off too? Or do you just wanna lie like this while I finish myself off?”

You swallowed and pushed yourself up, “I can change positions. That’s fine.”

Turning yourself over to get on all fours, Harry guided your angle so you were face to face with Vana and then you felt his mouth on the back of your neck, on your shoulder blades, and down your spine until you felt him gripping your hips and pushing you down so your face was smushed into the comforter and you were no longer looking at his wife.

When you felt his cock press back in, spreading you open he moaned and got to it right away; thrusting in and all the way out, in and then holding you flush against his hips.

“Vana, fuck her pussy feels so good. Want to keep her for a bit,” Harry watched as his cock disappeared into you as he spoke to his wife, “Maybe next week if she’s up for more… fuck. Gonna need to feel this again.”

You started to feel that floaty, faraway mushiness again as Harry began to punch into you. His voice getting further and further away as your limbs began to quiver.

“I’d love that. Love to have her on your cock as much as you want, Harry,” Vana moaned as she reveled in the way Harry was so fucked out of his mind with you.

You hissed when he began to pound into you and your thighs couldn’t hold you up any longer. Slowly you began to slide down as Harry fucked into you with his long cock and strong legs flexing against you, until you were flat on your tummy with Harry moaning and ramming into you, hips crashing into your ass.

You felt his hard dick begin to throb and twitch as he whined your name, “Oh god… Y/n, baby… fuck you’re gonna… fuck Y/n…”

With your eyes closed and Harry’s fat dick lodged deep in your cunt he tensed and stilled his hips as he began to pump hot come into his condom.

“God Harry, that feels so good for you, baby… she’s so good for your cock isn’t she?”

You couldn’t hear Harry’s response as he pressed his chest into your back, but you could feel the vibrations of his voice as he spoke.

He was heavy on you. You could feel his chest filling with air as he breathed deeply and then suddenly you were cold as he slid out of you and off your body. You rolled over and sat up to see him grasping Vana’s face with one hand and kissing her hard, the fingers on his other hand sliding against the crotch of her bike shorts, and then a smile from him as he whispered something to her and she laughed.

They both looked at you, pleased expressions on their faces.

“Would you be up for more another day?” Vana asked as Harry disappeared into the ensuite bathroom.

“Um… yeah. It’s okay more than once?”

Vana shrugged, “Sometimes it’s fine. As long as you don’t expect an emotional connection we’re up for you coming over or him meeting you at your place.”

“At my place?”

Harry stepped out of the bathroom with a towel and sat next to you, his briefs back on.

“Yeah. You two could do it again without me. Your place or at a hotel even. I like it when he records the sounds or takes videos so he can share them with me. Whatever you’re comfortable with. But I would know what was going on and when. Which makes me feel really excited when he’s gone for hours and then comes back to me after and he smells like sex.”

Harry began gently wiping at you as Vana spoke. You had never heard of anything like this before but you were sure Harry and Vana weren’t the only ones that did it. It felt wrong on some level but Vana seemed to love it and she was, in a way, calling all the shots.

“I mean, if you are okay with it and we can find some time for more… yeah. I’m good with that.”

Harry and Vana left you alone while you used their bathroom to freshen up and get dressed. You almost looked like a different person when you stared at yourself in the mirror. What had you just done? And why had you liked it so much? You left their house with more questions than answers that evening but you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by what could happen next.

You just hoped you could follow the rules and not get emotionally attached. But you figured it’d be worth it if you could get fucked like that again.

. . .

This is the first part of an ongoing series on Patreon. None of the other parts will be posted on Tumblr. If you'd like to see more of these three consider joining my Patreon! xoxo

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[novaursa]

The Flames We Share

- Summary: You tell your son the truth. He has more than the blood of dragons in his veins.

- Paring: Gwayne Hightower/targ!reader/Daemon Targaryen

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is Rhaenyra's younger sister and was bonded with Silverwing. These events happen right after The Blood We Choose. If you want to read all parts before this one in chronological order, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Word count: 5 198

- Tag(s): @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @sachaa-ff

The dungeons beneath Dragonstone were a cold, damp place, lit only by flickering torches that cast shadows that seemed to dance mockingly on the rough-hewn walls. The stench of rot and mildew clung to the air, seeping into the very stones of the fortress. Gwayne Hightower sat chained to the wall, bruised and dirty from his days of captivity, but his eyes were clear and resolute, fixed forward as he awaited what was surely his fate. His thoughts, however, were elsewhere—focused only on you, the woman he had risked everything for.

The sound of heavy boots echoed through the stone corridors, and he looked up as the iron door creaked open. Daemon Targaryen stepped inside, a predator’s smirk twisting his lips. He tossed a crumpled message onto the filthy floor in front of Gwayne’s feet. The black wax seal was unmistakable—bearing the sigil of House Hightower.

“Your father sends his regards,” Daemon drawled, a cruel edge in his voice. “He offers to trade his traitorous son for some stronghold I care little about. Imagine that—a worthless fortress in exchange for his even more worthless offspring.” Daemon’s eyes gleamed as he studied Gwayne’s reaction, searching for any sign of weakness.

But Gwayne’s expression remained stony. “You can say what you wish, Targaryen. My fate was sealed the moment I brought her to you.” His voice was hoarse but steady. “As long as Y/N is safe, I care not what becomes of me.”

Daemon’s lip curled in disdain. “Is that so?” He took a step closer, as if to loom over Gwayne. “Safe? You think she’s safe, having fallen from the sky, bleeding and broken? You think I would allow the woman who bore my son—my heir—to suffer any harm under my roof?” There was a dark gleam of possessiveness in Daemon’s eyes, as if the very notion of another man daring to care for you was an affront to his pride.

Gwayne’s gaze sharpened at that. “I want to see Vaeron,” he demanded suddenly. There was a tremor in his voice, a desperation that Daemon did not miss. “I want to speak with my son.”

Daemon’s anger flared at the insolence of the request. “Your son?” he hissed, voice low and dangerous. “That boy is a Targaryen—a dragon, not the product of some dishonorable tryst! Do you think I would allow him to be tainted by the shame of what you nearly brought upon my niece, siring a child on her without even the dignity of wedlock?”

Gwayne’s eyes darkened, yet there was a hint of mocking amusement in them as he stared up at the Rogue Prince. “And you believe yourself to be the righteous one? The man who slew his first wife in pursuit of power? Who consorts with whores while claiming the love of dragons? Tell me, Daemon, what makes you any different from me?”

Daemon’s smirk faltered, his face tightening with barely controlled rage. But Gwayne continued, his voice laced with bitterness. “She was denied to me—Y/N, I mean. If your brother had seen sense, had given her to me rather than feeding your ambitions, we could have avoided all this bloodshed. The boy would have been raised in Oldtown, under the guidance of both our Houses, and this war might never have happened.”

“Nothing could have prevented this war,” Daemon snarled, eyes flashing. “It was written in fire and blood long before you or I even took breath. But do not delude yourself into thinking you have anything resembling love, Hightower. What you claim as love is mere possession—an attempt to bind what you could never truly have.”

Gwayne’s jaw clenched at the words, but he did not respond. The two men stared at each other, the tension between them crackling like a drawn sword. Daemon took a breath, his composure returning as he straightened.

“I’ll have the boy brought to you,” Daemon said at last, his tone laced with scorn. “You may look upon him and see the life you were never destined to have. But do not forget—he is mine, and Y/N belongs to me now. She is a Targaryen, and you are nothing more than a failed traitor.”

With that, Daemon turned and strode toward the door. Before he left, he paused, throwing one last taunt over his shoulder. “Do not hope for mercy when your father trades you away like the pawn you are, Gwayne. Your life is worth little, even to those who should care most.”

The door slammed shut, leaving Gwayne alone in the darkness once more. But he did not feel defeated. Even with the chains biting into his wrists, he had no regrets for what he had done, for saving you and ensuring you were delivered safely to Dragonstone. In the end, it was not his fate that mattered—it was yours. Even in the heart of this cold, bitter place, the thought of you kept the warmth alive in his heart.

Because in the quiet shadows, despite all the titles and power Daemon clung to, Gwayne knew one truth that Daemon would never fully grasp—he loved you, wholly and without condition. And in his mind, that was a victory far greater than any throne or dragon could ever grant.

The soft crackle of the hearthfire filled the chamber, mingling with the scent of herbs and ointments from where Maesters had tended to your wounds. You sat by the window, Silverwing’s scales still etched into your memory, the pain a constant reminder of the battle you had narrowly survived. The healing was slow, but the bruises and cuts were nothing compared to the deeper ache in your chest. You weren’t sure what stung more—the death of your dragon or the desperate, foolish bravery of the man who had risked everything to save you.

A knock at the door broke your thoughts. “Come in,” you called, and the door creaked open to reveal Vaeron. The boy’s silver hair glinted in the evening light, and his blue eyes—so much like his father’s—fixed on you with concern.

“Mother,” he said quietly, stepping inside. “How are you feeling today?”

You smiled softly at him, though your heart ached as you looked upon him. “I am mending, sweetling. Stronger with each day.”

Vaeron nodded, yet his expression was troubled. He came closer, sitting on the edge of your bed, the worry in his eyes clear. “I heard… I heard Daemon talking about him,” he murmured. “The man in the dungeons—the one who saved you. Is it true he defied Ser Criston Cole and fled with you from Rook’s Rest? They say he’s a Hightower. An enemy.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. The boy was no longer the child you had once cradled; he was growing, his curiosity sharp and his mind keen. He deserved the truth.

“Yes, it’s true,” you replied, voice gentle. “The man who saved me is Gwayne Hightower. He… he betrayed his own kin, risked his life, and rode through the chaos to bring me here, to safety.”

Vaeron’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But why would he do that? Daemon says he’s just trying to make amends for his family’s treachery. That he’s nothing more than a desperate fool.”

You shook your head slowly. “It’s more complicated than that, my dear. Gwayne… he did it out of love, out of loyalty to someone who meant the world to him once.” You hesitated, the words heavy on your tongue. The truth was a blade you’d kept sheathed for too long, and it was time to draw it, no matter how much it might wound.

Vaeron looked at you expectantly, sensing the weight of what you were about to say. You reached out, taking his hand in yours, needing the touch to anchor yourself.

“Vaeron… the man in the dungeons, Gwayne Hightower… he is your father.”

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. Vaeron’s eyes widened, the shock raw and unfiltered in his young face. He pulled his hand away, as if trying to distance himself from the revelation. “What?” he breathed out, voice barely above a whisper. “My father? But… Daemon… I always thought…”

You nodded, pain lancing through your heart as you watched him grapple with the truth. “Daemon has raised you as his own, and in many ways, he is your father. But you have another father, by blood, and that is Gwayne Hightower. You were conceived out of a moment we both knew would never be more than a fleeting dream. He wanted to marry me, to build a life, but—”

Vaeron shook his head, backing away as he struggled to process it all. “No,” he muttered, as if denying the words could somehow make them untrue. “Daemon’s always told me I’m a Targaryen, that my blood is pure, that I am his son, a prince of the realm. How could—why didn’t you tell me? Why now, when he’s chained beneath us like some criminal?”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them back. “I didn’t want you to bear the burden of that knowledge before you were ready. You were always meant to be strong, to carry the legacy of the dragons. But Gwayne… he isn’t just a Hightower, he’s the man who saved my life when no one else dared. Whatever his blood, he does care for you in his own way, even from afar now.”

Vaeron’s lips trembled as he stared at you, his confusion and hurt palpable. “I need… I need to think,” he stammered, turning abruptly and nearly stumbling over himself in his haste to leave the room.

“Vaeron, wait—” you called after him, but he was already gone, the door slamming shut behind him. The sound echoed in the emptiness of the chamber, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Your chest tightened with regret. You had known this moment would come eventually, but you had hoped it would be under different circumstances. There was so much more you wanted to tell him, so much more to explain. But for now, all you could do was hope that he would find a way to understand, to see beyond the conflict of bloodlines and names.

In that fleeting moment before he vanished, you had seen the storm raging behind his eyes—a storm you knew would not settle easily. And in that storm, you glimpsed the boy he had always been and the man he was becoming, torn between the truths that defined him.

But you could only wait, knowing that the choice between dragons and towers was his to make, even if it broke your heart in the process.

Vaeron’s footsteps echoed through the winding corridors of Dragonstone as he fought to steady his breath. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a heavy drum drowning out the world around him. The truth his mother had just revealed rang in his ears like a cruel jest—Gwayne Hightower is your father. The words were a blade lodged deep in his chest, twisting with every thought, every doubt that now swirled within him.

He turned a corner, the air cool against his flushed face, and found himself in the dimly lit dining hall. The large table at its center was set for the evening meal, though the room was mostly empty save for one figure seated at the end, absently twirling a goblet in his hand.

Jacaerys Velaryon looked up, catching sight of Vaeron. His dark curls fell loosely over his forehead, and his brown eyes narrowed in concern as he took in his cousin’s strained expression. “Vaeron?” he called out, his voice low but filled with the warmth of kinship. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”

Vaeron stiffened, his gaze flickering away as he hesitated at the threshold of the hall. The weight of the revelation clung to him like a shroud, and for a moment, he wondered if it would be easier to bury it, to pretend that nothing had changed. But Jacaerys’ patient eyes, filled with genuine care, drew him in like a tether.

With a resigned sigh, Vaeron walked over and slumped into the chair opposite Jace, the firelight casting shadows on his troubled face. He didn’t speak for a moment, merely stared at the table as he tried to gather the words that had lodged like stones in his throat.

Jace leaned forward, the lines of worry deepening on his brow. “Vaeron, you’re scaring me. What’s happened?”

“I…” Vaeron’s voice cracked, and he swallowed hard before continuing, “I just learned something that changes everything.” He finally looked up, his eyes rimmed with uncertainty. “The man in the dungeons—the Hightower who brought Mother back from Rook’s Rest… He’s my father. My real father.”

Jacaerys’ eyes widened in shock, his goblet nearly slipping from his grasp. “What? But—Daemon’s always—”

“I know,” Vaeron cut in, voice strained. “I thought Daemon was my father, too. I grew up believing I was his son, a true Targaryen. But Mother told me just now that Gwayne Hightower is my sire. I’m… I’m a bastard.”

The word hung heavy in the air between them, laden with shame and confusion. Vaeron felt his chest tighten again, the sting of doubt gnawing at him. What did that make him now? Was he even truly a part of this family? A dragon in name only, born of a union that should never have been?

Jacaerys’ expression softened as he saw the pain in Vaeron’s eyes. He set down his goblet and leaned closer, trying to find the right words. “Listen to me, Vaeron,” he began, voice steady and laced with a touch of empathy. “We’ve both been raised with more lies and expectations than most people could handle. But if anyone understands how it feels to question who you are, it’s me.”

Vaeron blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

Jacaerys gave a rueful smile, leaning back in his chair as he stared into the flames. “I’ve heard the whispers, the taunts—people saying I’m no true Targaryen because of my questionable blood. They mock the fact that I don’t have silver hair or violet eyes, that I look more like a commoner than a prince. And sometimes… sometimes, I wonder if they’re right.”

The honesty in Jace’s voice caught Vaeron off guard, pulling him out of his own turmoil. He had always admired Jacaerys—his confidence, his sense of duty. He had never imagined that his cousin carried doubts of his own.

“But you’re still recognized as one of us,” Vaeron murmured, brow furrowed. “You’re still heir to the Iron Throne, still a dragon. No one would ever dare deny that.”

Jace nodded, but his gaze remained distant. “True, but that doesn’t erase the whispers. Even with the dragon blood flowing through my veins, I’ve always felt like I had to prove I’m worthy of the name Targaryen. But you…” He looked back at Vaeron, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You look like a Targaryen. No one would ever question your blood—silver hair—you were born a dragon, even if your father wasn’t one.”

Vaeron’s breath hitched at the kindness in Jace’s words. But it didn’t soothe the ache gnawing at his heart. “Does it even matter, Jace? If I’m truly a bastard, what does any of this mean? My whole life, I’ve been told I’m meant for something great, but now… now I don’t even know who I really am.”

Jacaerys’ expression grew firm, his voice taking on a rare edge of command. “It means you choose who you are, Vaeron. Blood alone doesn’t decide it. You were raised in this family, loved by your mother and Daemon alike. That is what makes you one of us. Not some Hightower who’s rotting in a cell.”

Vaeron’s throat tightened at the thought of Gwayne, the man who had defied his own House, who had thrown everything away to save the woman he loved. Did that make him worthy of being called a father? Could that kind of loyalty outweigh his bloodline, or was it too little too late?

“I need time to think,” Vaeron murmured, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… a lot.”

Jacaerys reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand on Vaeron’s shoulder. “You’ll figure it out, cousin. You’re not alone in this, alright? Whatever you decide, you’ll always have me and the rest of your family behind you.”

Vaeron nodded numbly, grateful for Jace’s support but still lost in the sea of confusion and emotions swirling within him. The questions gnawed at him relentlessly, leaving him torn between the man he had always believed himself to be and the truth that now threatened to shatter that identity.

The tension clung to the air in the dining hall like smoke, heavy and suffocating. Vaeron sat in silence after Jacaerys left, lost in the maze of his thoughts, unable to untangle the twisted knots of his emotions. His whole life had been built on one truth: that he was a Targaryen, son of Daemon, a prince destined for greatness. But now that truth had shattered, and he felt like a child cast adrift on a stormy sea, unsure of where to turn.

The sound of footsteps approached, measured and deliberate, and Vaeron looked up to see Daemon entering the hall. His expression was unreadable, though his sharp eyes missed nothing as they swept over Vaeron’s troubled face. For a moment, the prince said nothing, merely studying his son—his real son in all but blood—with a calculating gaze.

“You’re brooding,” Daemon finally said, his voice low and tinged with an edge of dry amusement. “A trait you didn’t inherit from your mother, I’d wager.”

Vaeron clenched his fists on the table, unable to meet Daemon’s eyes. “Everything I’ve ever known about myself is a lie,” he muttered, his voice thick with anger and confusion. “How am I supposed to believe anything now?”

Daemon’s gaze softened, but his voice remained firm. “You think this changes who you are?” he asked, stepping closer. “You think some whispered secret about your parentage wipes away the blood that runs through your veins? You are still a Targaryen, still my son in every way that matters.”

Vaeron’s eyes snapped up, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “But I’m not,” he insisted, his voice cracking. “I’m not truly your son, not by blood. I’m just… a bastard. A mistake.”

Daemon’s expression darkened, and he took a seat across from Vaeron, his presence commanding and unyielding. “Is that what you truly believe?” he asked, his tone both gentle and sharp. “That blood alone defines who you are? You were raised in the shadow of dragons, with the legacy of kings and conquerors shaping your every step. That is no lie. I’ve taught you, guided you, prepared you for the world because I chose you as my heir, not because of whose seed sired you.”

Vaeron looked away, struggling with the conflicting emotions swirling within him. “But… why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice a whisper now, tinged with the pain of betrayal. “All this time, you let me believe…”

Daemon sighed, his gaze growing distant as if recalling a memory long buried. “Because you needed to grow up without that burden,” he said quietly. “What good would it have done to burden you with a truth that might have only confused you, made you question everything? You were born a Targaryen in all the ways that matter. I’ve treated you as such, and so has your mother. That will never change, no matter who your true father is.”

Vaeron’s chest tightened at the mention of his mother, and he shook his head. “But now I know, and I can’t just pretend it doesn’t matter. That man in the dungeons… he’s the reason I exist, and yet he’s a stranger to me. How can I make sense of that?”

Daemon leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly on the wood. “Gwayne Hightower might be your blood father, but that doesn’t mean he has any claim over you,” he said with a hint of disdain in his voice. “He made a choice back at Rook’s Rest—one that I don’t entirely understand myself. He risked everything to bring your mother back here. Perhaps he thought it would redeem him somehow, or maybe he truly cared for her in his own way. Either way, he’s asked to speak with you.”

Vaeron stiffened at the words, his heart lurching in his chest. “He wants to see me?”

Daemon nodded slowly. “He does. He requested it, though he knows the choice is yours to make. I told him I’d send you, but the decision is yours. You can go to him, or you can ignore it and leave him to rot where he belongs.”

Vaeron’s mind reeled, torn between the curiosity gnawing at him and the fear of facing the man who had upended his world with his very existence. He shook his head, his voice trembling as he spoke. “I can’t. Not today. I don’t even know what I’d say to him… what I’d ask.”

Daemon studied him for a moment before nodding in understanding. “That’s your right. You don’t have to face him until you’re ready—if you ever are.” He reached out, placing a hand on Vaeron’s shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. “But know this, boy: whoever sired you, you are still my son. You bear the Targaryen name because I have claimed you as my own, because you were raised with fire in your blood. No man, be he Hightower or otherwise, can take that from you.”

Vaeron looked up at him, searching Daemon’s face for some trace of deception, but all he saw was the fierce loyalty and pride that Daemon had always shown him. For all his faults and ruthlessness, Daemon had been the only father Vaeron had ever known. And in that moment, the boy clung to that truth like a lifeline.

“Thank you,” Vaeron murmured, his voice small but filled with genuine gratitude. “I just… need time. To sort through it all.”

Daemon’s lips curved into a rare, almost affectionate smile, one reserved for the few he held dear. “Take all the time you need,” he said quietly. “But remember, you are a Targaryen, and no truth will ever change that. Not in the eyes of those who matter.”

With that, Daemon rose from the table, giving Vaeron a final nod before turning to leave the hall. Vaeron watched him go, the conflicting emotions still swirling in his chest, but there was a newfound clarity in his heart. The path ahead was clouded, and the shadow of Gwayne Hightower’s existence hanged over him like a specter. But for now, he knew where he stood—with the family that had shaped him, that had loved him despite the secrets and lies.

But deep down, in the quiet recesses of his mind, he knew that one day he would have to face the man who had saved his mother and who claimed the title of his father. Just… not today. Today, he would hold on to the identity he’d always known and trust that, in time, he would find his way through the tangled web of blood and loyalty.

For now, he was still Vaeron Targaryen, son of Daemon—trueborn or not, dragon or not, he was still a part of the legacy that burned brightly in the heart of House Targaryen. And that was enough to anchor him, at least for tonight.

The corridors beneath Dragonstone were dark and damp, the oppressive chill seeping into Vaeron’s bones as he made his way toward the dungeons. It had been a week since his world had been upended, a week of wrestling with the truth of his parentage. He had tried to push it aside, to focus on the training sessions with his cousins, the books his mother insisted he study, the words of comfort from Daemon. But every night, when the candles burned low and the castle quieted, the thought gnawed at him: if he didn’t face the man in the dungeons, he would never truly understand where he came from—or who he was.

So here he was, descending deeper into the belly of the fortress, the iron doors looming ahead. A guard nodded and stepped aside, allowing him entry. The door creaked open, revealing the shadowed cell where Gwayne Hightower sat slumped against the cold stone wall, chains rattling faintly with his every breath.

Gwayne’s face was bruised and gaunt, the days of imprisonment leaving their mark on him. But his eyes, so strikingly similar to Vaeron’s own, flicked up the moment the boy entered. Surprise and something softer—something like hope—flashed in his gaze.

“Vaeron,” he murmured, as if testing the name on his lips. “You came.”

Vaeron stood just inside the threshold, tension thrumming through his body. He wasn’t sure what he had expected—anger, indifference, desperation? But all he felt was a tangled mix of emotions that refused to settle.

After a long silence, Vaeron finally took a few steps closer, his voice tentative as he asked, “How could I not? I had to face you… or I couldn’t live with myself.”

Gwayne’s expression softened, a flicker of pride and sorrow crossing his face. “You’re braver than most would be in your position,” he said quietly. He shifted slightly, wincing at the pull of his wounds and restraints. “How… how is your mother? Is she recovering?”

Vaeron’s heart tightened at the genuine concern in Gwayne’s voice. Despite everything, despite the shame and anger swirling within him, he could not deny the sincerity of the man’s question. “She’s getting better,” Vaeron replied, a hint of guardedness still in his tone. “But her injuries are still bad. The fall from Silverwing was…” His voice trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Gwayne nodded, his jaw clenched as if in shared pain. “She’s strong. She always has been. I knew if I could just get her here, she’d fight her way back.” His voice grew hoarse with emotion, and he averted his gaze for a moment before looking back at Vaeron. “Thank you for telling me.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint drip of water echoing through the dungeons. Vaeron swallowed the lump in his throat and finally spoke the question that had been burning in him since he decided to come here. “Daemon says you’re a traitor,” he said, his voice low but unwavering. “That you can’t be trusted, that you’ve betrayed your family and your House. But… you saved my mother. You risked your life, your honor, everything.”

Gwayne’s expression didn’t change, but something deep and resolute flickered in his eyes. “Daemon’s right—I am a traitor to my own kin, to my House. I turned my back on everything I was raised to uphold. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

The simple conviction in his words struck Vaeron like a blow. He could see the truth of it written in every line of Gwayne’s face, in the quiet determination that had driven him to this point. Vaeron wanted to challenge him, to demand answers, but instead, he found himself asking, “Why?”

Gwayne’s lips curled into a faint, sad smile. “Because she was worth it. Your mother was worth more than any loyalty to my House, more than any honor I might have clung to. You see, I loved her long before any of this war came to pass. I wanted to marry her, to build a life with her, but your uncle, King Viserys, had other plans. When she was given to Daemon, I knew my place would only ever be on the outside, looking in.” He paused, eyes darkening with the weight of old wounds. “But that didn’t change how I felt. When I saw her falling in battle, when I saw Silverwing plummet… I didn’t think about anything else. I just acted. I’d rather be a traitor and live knowing I saved her than be a loyal man and watch her die.”

Vaeron’s chest tightened, torn between resentment and reluctant understanding. “You say that like it was noble, like it justifies everything. But it’s still treason. You abandoned your family. You betrayed your own.”

Gwayne’s expression grew more serious, his voice a low rumble in the dim light. “Yes, and I will face the consequences of that. I know what I’ve done, and I’ve made my peace with it. But you must understand, Vaeron—whatever Daemon tells you, whatever anyone says—you are my son. I know I have no right to claim you, not after all these years, but it doesn’t change what you are to me.”

Vaeron felt the words hanging in the air like a challenge, daring him to acknowledge the bond that existed between them, even if he wished it didn’t. He looked down, his fists clenched at his sides. “I don’t know what I am,” he admitted, his voice strained. “I was raised to believe I’m a Targaryen, that I’m Daemon’s son. Now everything feels like a lie. How can I be both?”

Gwayne’s gaze softened, the hardness of his demeanor giving way to something almost tender. “You are both,” he said quietly. “You were raised as a Targaryen, with all the fire and pride that comes with it. That is a part of you. But you’re also my blood, whether you like it or not. And you get to decide what that means for you.”

Vaeron’s mind spun with conflicting emotions—anger, guilt, a flicker of something like pity. He wasn’t sure if he could ever see Gwayne as his father, not in the way Daemon had been. But he couldn’t deny that the man who sat before him had risked everything for his mother, for the chance to protect her even when all seemed lost. And for that alone, he couldn’t simply dismiss him.

After a long silence, Vaeron finally shook his head. “I can’t face you—not today. There’s too much I don’t understand, too much I still need to figure out.”

Gwayne nodded, accepting the decision without protest. “I won’t ask for more than you’re willing to give,” he said softly. “But know that I’m here, for as long as they allow me to draw breath. And whatever choice you make, whatever path you choose—I will always be proud of you.”

The words stung, leaving Vaeron with a raw ache in his chest. He wanted to respond, to say something more, but the weight of everything—his own confusion, the war, the fractured loyalties—was too much. He turned abruptly, leaving the cell without another word, his thoughts swirling in a tempest of conflicting emotions.

As he walked away, the echo of Gwayne’s voice lingered in his mind, a reminder that some truths, no matter how painful, couldn’t be ignored forever. But for now, he needed time to reconcile the man he had always believed himself to be with the truths he couldn’t yet fully accept.

And so, Vaeron returned to the world above, leaving the man who called himself his father to the shadows, knowing that one day—perhaps too soon—he would have to confront the reality of who he truly was.