#the way i asked her if she did it on purpose and it was truly an accident | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kesujo · 2 months ago

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Baby, Mommy's Here

I HAD TO WRITE AN EMERGENCY TAEYEON FIC BECAUSE OF THESE PICTURES (those who follow me sorta have gotten some not-so-subtle hints of the release of this fic :p)

ALSO, ENJOY THIS ONE TOO

I didn't edit/revise this b/c I'm sort of in a hurry. Please let me know if you find any mistakes! :D

Word count: 12.8K

Never in your life did you think you’d be in such a relationship. The past you might’ve judged you for it—scratch that, the past you would’ve hard judged you for it, maybe even going so far as to looking down on you for letting yourself acclimate to such a relationship. However, now that it’s happening, it’s like you’ve been truly awakened. This is the best way life is to be lived; sure, there are many people who give you weird looks, sure, some of your friends make fun of you and in fact, you get the feeling that some of them have distanced themselves from you upon learning of the type of relationship you’re in, but you’re long past the point of caring about that. In fact, Taeyeon herself has helped you get over the judgmental attitudes the ones who were close to you have adopted towards you.

What have you ever done to deserve your current lifestyle? You figure you must’ve been Mother Theresa or Mahatma Gandhi in your previous life to get this type of treatment and attention from the peak specimen of a woman that is Kim Taeyeon.

Beautiful, sexy, confident, but also kind, caring, gentle, empathetic … what does she not have? Money, certainly, isn’t the answer to that question: and while, as you’ve experienced, her level of wealth very much grants Taeyeon the ability to live as lavishly as any other multi-millionaire CEO, and the combination of her attractive appearance and personality makes it so that she should be able to get together with any man in the world. But, for some reason, she settled for you.

Rather, it’s not ‘for some reason’.

“This is a secret from the public, and I prefer you keep it this way.” Of course, you nod frantically. It was one of the first times you’ve seen Taeyeon in person, and being this close to her is making your heart go haywire and turning your brain to goo. “I am … shall I say, nearly infertile.” It was one of your first meetings, so hearing her being so vulnerable to you makes you feel thankful that she feels like she can be this way with you but also unworthy of bearing this knowledge. Still, you say nothing and let her continue. “That is to say, there are only certain men that I am compatible with, and even amongst those men, it would still be troublesome for me to become pregnant. And, as a woman who wants to have children of her own, you can see where my issue lies.” You nod again. Frankly, you don’t trust your voice to crack or to not stammer out even single-word replies.

“And that’s where you come in. I believe you participated in a test group regarding your own fertility?” You rack your memory – did you? You’ve signed up to participate in all sorts of studies, because you figure, why not, really? It can’t hurt that much, you’re helping the advancement of science, and you’re so unremarkable that you figure no one would the type of information these test groups ask for. “The researchers did indeed, use your specimen for its intended purpose, but in return for funding them, I had them also test for compatibility with me.” That sounds … vaguely illegal? But honestly, you can’t care less. Of all the test groups you’ve participated in, this is by far the greatest outcome, the best reward you’ve ever gotten. “And, it turns out, we’re compatible. Also, it doesn’t hurt that you’re quite cute.”

As a man, you perhaps shouldn’t have felt so happy hearing that from a woman. However, given that Taeyeon is almost a decade older than you, you’re more than happy to be her cute little partner. “Th-Thank, Thank you.”

Your face turns beet red, but Taeyeon simply smiles at your stammering. “No need to be shy. You’re mine now, and likewise, I’m yours.”

So she says, but the dynamic of the relationship quickly becomes clear: because Taeyeon has a lot of business to attend to, it’s often times you helping take care of the house along with the staff of house caretakers Taeyeon has at her disposal. She’s the one with the money, and she’s also insisted that your only job to be help her out with her job whenever she so asks for it, which you feel is much less frequently than she could be.

Essentially, realistically, Taeyeon is your sugar momma. And this relationship, while you figured might’ve felt a little demeaning at first, is perfectly fulfilling.

When Taeyeon is home, she’s the typical caring, doting wife, albeit with the caveat that she sometimes requests massages from you after a long day of work or vents to you about a project that’s being bottlenecked by something or another. When you’re outside with Taeyeon, the paparazzi that seems to be perpetually following you probably would never guess this bit about your dynamic: you pay for the meals as much as Taeyeon does, you still hold the door open for her, and you still drive the car more than she does if you two ever feel like not utilizing her personal chauffer.

In private is where the dynamic is a little more obvious: whenever Taeyeon requests something of you, you instantly drop whatever it is that you’re doing and rush to her side—but then again, that could just be seen as a doting, caring partner. And, of course—

“Ooh, honey, yes…”

It’s an absolutely hypnotic sight, seeing Taeyeon grinding against your crotch with your dick buried inside her to the hilt, her head thrown back and her hands on your waist. You’ve, of course, seen pictures of her all over the place, but the novelty of seeing those sizable tits hanging out in the open, each decorated with a squeezable bud at the tip that’s begging to be squeezed, but you don’t dare act out of line. In the first few months of your budding relationship, you feel like you’re fighting to show her your worth.

“Gosh, it feels so good…”

The sex is amazing, and you can’t get over how great Taeyeon’s pussy feels, and that in combination with the soft, velvety texture of her skin against your hands drives you insane, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you can’t help but feel that this is still somewhat transactional.

“Fuck, Taeyeon…”

That thought only slightly detracts from the sex. The moment you entered this relationship with Taeyeon, she requested you to leave your previous job and to work for her—she doesn’t give you much work, though. It’s more like menial tasks, like, ‘please sort through my email inbox every morning and delete all the obvious spam and junk mail’, ‘please help me find a good place for a dinner with some stockholders’, that kind of stuff. You don’t particularly mind: you want to make yourself as useful to Taeyeon as possible.

“Does that feel good, honey?”

You can tell Taeyeon is putting in effort into this relationship, though: from day one, she all but ditched calling you your real name in favor of these pet names, such as ‘honey’, ‘baby’, ‘sweetheart’, et cetera. You’re thankful of her for that. In fact, it only makes you want to prove your worth to her even more.

“Yes, it feels so good, Taeyeon.”

You, on the other hand, don’t feel like you’ve earned the right to call her those pet names yet. It almost feels like you’re a puppy wagging its tail at its owner, seeking approval and validation and attention, something you might’ve ordinarily felt as demeaning now feels actually somewhat fulfilling. Every day, you strive towards this singular goal: be worth of being the man Taeyeon chose as her partner.

“Are you close?”

“Almost…”

Taeyeon takes your hands and places them on her boobs. “You like these, don’t you?”

Would it be ruder to blatantly, but honestly say, ‘yes, I love them so much, I sometimes find myself unable to stop looking at them’, to not say anything at all, or to deny it?

“You don’t have to deny it, baby.”

Seeing the reassuring smile on Taeyeon’s face is what lets you respond with, “Yes, I love them.”

“You know, you’re my partner. You don’t have to sneak peaks at my boobs, you can just look at them.”

It’s a growing process, for sure. Gradually getting used to each other, getting over your initial feeling of intimidation of Taeyeon after learning about how much of a sweetheart Taeyeon is outside her sharp, crisp, always-fashionable and always-beautiful CEO look takes some work, and Taeyeon is helping along with that process tremendously.

“Thanks, Taeyeon.”

You try to resist squeezing those almond nipples for as long as possible, but in the end, you’re only human. And then, hearing Taeyeon moan when you finally give in feeds the fire, and suddenly, you’re all over her boobs, grinding and smacking into her pussy while your hands carefully knead and massage her tits and give her nipples the occasional squeeze that sends Taeyeon into another moaning frenzy.

“Yes, keep going!”

“Taeyeon, I’m close. Where…?”

“Go ahead, baby! Inside me!”

You almost don’t know why you asked. Every single time the two of you have had sex, without fail, Taeyeon has insisted that you cum inside her—and, despite the sheer number of times it’s happened, she still has yet to become pregnant. It’s gotten to the point where you’re starting to wonder if it’s an issue with you, but Taeyeon has reassured you that isn’t the case—the test group that you partook in also returned results of your own fertility, of which is in the normal range for the average male.

“Fuck, cumming—”

And, without fail, every time you burst inside her, the hot, sticky walls of Taeyeon’s pussy squeezes you dry, coaxing out every last drop as if milking you for all that you were worth.

After letting you ride out your orgasm, Taeyeon dismounts you and lays by your side. “That was great, honey.”

How kind and considerate Taeyeon is only makes you feel worse, knowing that you still have yet to make her cum a single time. At least, as far as you know. You don’t dare bring this up, though; it’s an awkward subject, despite how many times you’ve came inside her already, and you don’t want to remind Taeyeon of your inadequacy.

“Yeah, it was,” is all you can say, for now.

In any romantic relationship, mutual attraction is a must. At least, in your books, it is. Maybe it’s the nature of a CEO like Taeyeon to take a more calculative stance on romantic relationships—but then again, you don’t believe that, seeing how Taeyeon takes the time out of her busy day to spend time with you: watching movies, having meals, chatting about random things, going golfing or go-karting or renting out an entire amusement park for a few hours to have fun in. For you, attraction to Taeyeon is instant, and only solidifies over time: for Taeyeon, you can tell it’s taking some time.

You do everything in your power to expedite the process: you take on cooking, taking lessons from Taeyeon’s personal chef so that you can cook meals for your 100-day and 200-day anniversaries, and although you consider yourself more knowledgeable than the average guy in this area, you still take more time to learn about fashion and makeup so that you can be at least somewhat presentable next to Taeyeon in public, you carefully plan out surprise dates for her to get her to stop thinking about work for a bit, and as time passes, you can start noticing the difference. Taeyeon is gradually, actively, making more effort to spend time with you, even going so far as to push deadlines or forgo work once every month or so, and it’s immensely gratifying to see your hard work paying off.

There are other ways you can see your hard work paying off, too.

“Oh my gosh, baby, I’m—!” Taeyeon, relentless as ever, demanded a second round before going to sleep that night, and it’s before your second orgasm that you’re finally able to see Taeyeon succumb to hers, purely by your efforts. “—I’m cumming, oh my go—!”

Her svelte frame shudders and convulses beneath your own, her eyes now fully shut and her head pressed deep into the pillow. Her hips violently buck against your crotch, so you obey the unspoken request of her body: you don’t relent, you continue to fuck her fiercely, to let her ride out her orgasm by adding pressure your right index finger and thumb are applying to her clit, and drink in this marvelous sight. It’s a whole other type of novelty, to see Taeyeon’s climax before your very eyes. If you thought the sight of her nude body was a mind-shatteringly sexy sight, the sight of seeing that body rocking and vibrating as your cock continued to slam into the deepest parts of her womb is on a completely other level—and then, to know that it’s you who did this, who turned Taeyeon into this moaning, screaming, convulsing mess brings you to your own orgasm.

“Fuck, Taeyeon, I’m also cumming…”

“Let it all out, baby! Give me everything!”

When your orgasm subsided, you spent a few seconds recovering from the sheer intensity of that climax, taking a second before pulling out of her and letting your body fall onto the bed next to her.

“Wow … baby, that was amazing.”

“It was. You were amazing.”

“Mmm. Thank you so much, honey.” She gave you one last peck on the cheek before drifting off to sleep, a normally harmless and cute gesture of her gratitude that kept you up far too late. However, when you drifted off to sleep yourself, you found that, the next morning, you felt more refreshed than ever.

There were certain complications with your night activities, first and foremost being how often you needed to get your bedsheets cleaned. The fact that Taeyeon always went to sleep with your cum still leaking out of her pussy is definitely the reason behind it, and you’re somewhat shocked to find out that the normally pristine and proper Taeyeon didn’t think twice about soiling the bedsheets every time you bred her.

The second complication was, as the two of you grew closer, the sex started happening in places outside of the bedroom: at first, it was relatively private places like the shower or her wardrobe, but gradually evolved to such places as—

“Mmm, yes, right there, babe!” The sound of her ass slapping against your crotch echoes about the spacious kitchen. Taeyeon’s knuckles having turned white from the intensity of her grip on the kitchen’s island table as you relentlessly pound her into it. “Keep going!”

Taeyeon’s house is rather big—not mansion big, but still big enough to mandate a cleaning staff. In addition, Taeyeon’s personal chef comes every morning and leaves around noon: the schedule of the caretakers of her house is very precise, but there is still some kind of novelty in having sex somewhere other people frequent.

“Fuck, Taeyeon…”

It’s something you can never get tired of: the feeling of her soft waist in your hands, the sputtering of her juices onto your groin, the way your hips bounce off her bubbly butt, the beautiful melody of her moans, the sight of her, sweaty and hot and aroused, her back arched and her sizable tits jiggling with the force of your every thrust, watching your cock disappear between her flopping, glistening pink folds over and over again, all of it.

“Yes! Pound me into the table! Harder!”

Of course, you’re all too willing to comply. Given her rather small, frail-looking frame, you’ve learned that Taeyeon is able to take quite a bit of punishment, something you are more than willing to dish out whenever she asks for it. This isn’t the first time she’s asked you to be rough on her, so you’re more or less used to this type of dirty talk: however, what she says next is not something you’re used to.

“Grab my hair! Push my face into the table!”

You’re a little hesitant at first, but with how fervently she’s taking your cock, you realize she isn’t really giving you much space to argue. So, as always, you obey.

“Yes, mommy.”

As you reach out to grab a fistful of her hair, she turns a surprised eye to you. It’s only then that you realize what came out of your mouth.

“‘Mommy’?”

Why did you say that? You try to be careful with your words, but have lately been finding it easier and easier to let words slip out of your mouth without a second thought. And now that she was looking at you, a sudden pang of fear crept up inside you. Did you fuck up? “Um, I’m, I’m so sorr—”

“No…” There is clear conflict on Taeyeon’s face. On one hand, she’s surprised to hear you call her that, and part of her feels like she ought to be repulsed by it in some way, but part of her finds it hot. It’s not lost on Taeyeon that the nature of your relationship with you makes you her sugar baby, especially with the age gap that exists between you two. It’s … fitting. “…don’t be sorry. Keep going, baby.”

What happened? Is Taeyeon not mad? She seemed to be … somewhat accepting of it?

You don’t decide to push your luck though, and when she turns back around, you continue where you left off by grabbing her hair and, gently, pushing her face into the cold marble surface of the island table.

“Fuuck…”

You’re genetically compatible with her, and even your physical build is compatible with her: you’re at just the right height to comfortably drill into her from above like this, with her feet slightly raised and her ass in the air, smacking into your damp groin repeatedly. The wet sounds of the impact echo about the otherwise empty residence: outside, the gardener should be attending to the multitude of flowers and trees that surround the house, but there is no view inside the kitchen from anywhere the gardener might be.

“Yes, keep going, ruin me!”

“Fuck, Taeyeon—” you other hand leaves her waist and comes down, hard, onto her ass. She lets out a noise that lays somewhere between a squeal and a moan. “—you’re so much.”

“More, babe! Keep going!”

It’s second nature to you, by now, to obey her every command, but this is something you don’t need her to tell you to do. The second smack, then the third, the fourth, the fifth, and by the sixth, you can start to see a red imprint in the rough shape of your palm appearing on her otherwise pale, snowy-white romp.

“Fuck! Babe, please, it’s so good!”

Her words are slightly muffled by the fact that you’re pushing her face into the table; her face is turned to the side, but even still, her cheeks are so slim that even the slightest bit of pressure nearly causes her lips to be touching the marble.

“You’re so insatiable.” You’re using your knees to keep yourself aligned with her, one hand adjusting its grip on her silky, chocolate hair while the other alternates between caressing and smacking her juicy ass. “I love it.”

“I’m so close! Babe, please!”

The coolness of the marble surface is also pressing into her tits, and specifically, her erect nipples. On top of the ferocious pounding you’re giving her, the ass-smacking from one of your hands and the pressing on her head into the table from the other, the temperature play at yet another one of her erogenous zones is stimulating Taeyeon to the max. The longer it draws on, the more the intensity of your thrusts and the force of your hand onto her ass increases, and the higher she pushes herself onto the balls of her feet, doing everything she can to maximize the contact between you and her.

By now, you can more or less tell how close Taeyeon is to her climax; although you haven’t gotten it down to an exact science yet, you can tell that you’re going to reach your peak first. Ever since you’ve gained the ability to make Taeyeon climax, you selfishly want to make sure she’s reaching it every single time: of all the things you can never get tired of from Taeyeon, seeing her coming to an orgasm because of you is at the top of that list.

So, you use the cheat button. You stop slapping her ass, the red imprint on it just about glowing by now, and your hand dives between her legs. It takes a second to find her clit, but when you do, you don’t use it right away: you’ve learned that it’s more effective if you do what you’re doing now, which is to tease it by rubbing the perimeter of it first. Taeyeon, on the other hand, starts losing her mind; her moans become desperate yelps and whines, and when you finally reward her patience by squeezing on her pleasure button, she unfolds all at once.

“Fffuuuck!”

The goal was to at least align your climaxes at least somewhat, but you definitely weren’t expecting to make Taeyeon cum first. In fact, you’re so stunned by this that you momentarily stop moving, only reminded to keep going by Taeyeon’s urging.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, I’m cumming so hard, oh my god, oh my—”

This is the first time that Taeyeon has reached her climax before you. Try as you might before, even doing foreplay such as cunnilingus or using your fingers, it was always you that buckled first. But now, seeing your misses unravel so completely, shaking and lathering your cock and your groin with her love nectar, turns you on so completely that your climax follows shortly after.

“Fuck, cumming—”

Taeyeon jolts again as the jet of warm, viscous liquid enters her womb. “Unng, fuck, yes, fill me up, babe!”

This time, Taeyeon didn’t have the benefit of the bedsheets to soak up the fluids flowing out of her hole; you help her clean up, and when she’s done, she pecks you on the lips. And that’s another thing you can never get tired of: the feeling of her soft, velvety lips on yours, and the fragrant aroma that wafts into your nose when her face presses into yours.

“I can’t believe how amazing that was, babe. You were … wow…”

You let out a laugh. “I’m glad you liked it. You were so sexy, as always.”

There wasn’t a room in the house that was spared from your and Taeyeon’s antics: the dining room, the living room, every room in the spacious abode became witness to your breeding attempts. Each had their own benefits, too: the dining room had the comfortable chairs that you could use, the living room had the open space and a TV to use to add into the fun, the game room was filled with various makeshift tools that enhanced the experience—such as using a pool stick as a yoke or restraint bar, forcing Taeyeon’s arms behind her back and leaving her completely helpless to you—and the music room, which she apparently had installed into her house because of some vocal lessons she eventually dropped due to lack of time, but something for which you can personally vouch for her insane natural talent of, whose excellent acoustics allow you to hear Taeyeon’s beautiful, musical moans in ways you’ve never heard them before. It wasn’t an everyday thing, though, nor even necessarily a once-a-week thing—in fact, there would even be stretches of two, three months with no sex. Someone as busy as Taeyeon simply didn’t always have the time, or would just come home and let you guide her to her bed and fall asleep to the full-body massage you’ve spent so much time learning to do.

It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, though—being the publicly-known boyfriend of perhaps the world’s first idol-CEO, who first garnered attention for her immaculate looks at the fashion shows she would attend, then further fame from appearing on the Forbes’ ’30 Under 30’ list. What would the fanbase of an idol-CEO look like? It turned out, pretty similar to the fanbase of a singer-idol: from the moment your relationship with Taeyeon went public, the two of you were met with waves upon waves of backlash. Taeyeon, being used being in the spotlight and frankly, not particularly caring for these kinds of matters as her job wasn’t as closely tied to public sentiment as a singer-idol’s was, was barely phased by it. You, however: someone who was a nobody before this, who was a five or six out of ten at best, and now with the amount of effort you put into fashion and your appearance now, is perhaps a seven or maybe an eight if you squinted real hard and captured the exact perfect angle, but who looks like a four next to the perfect ten out of ten that Taeyeon always was, was bound to be met with heaps of jealous, indignant, angry fans.

It was easy enough to stop using social media—‘easy’ enough, that is—but when you’re just walking about normally, shopping for furniture or new shampoo or fetching some new makeup products that Taeyeon has you pick up? When Taeyeon proposed to hire a bodyguard for you, you immediately shoot it down. You, need a bodyguard? Who are you to require such a thing?

The answer was simple: the news articles of random people on the street harassing you, throwing junk at you, something you tried to keep quiet about but met Taeyeon’s wrath regarding when she found out, not from you telling her, but from a news article.

“How could you not tell me?!”

“I’m … I’m so sorry…”

“No! It’s not—” Taeyeon sinks into her chair and buries her face in her hands. “—it’s not you who needs to be sorry.” Her voice softens considerably, and it doesn’t take long for you to realize: she’s crying.

“Taeyeon? Honey?”

“You need to tell me about these things!” When she lifts her head to speak to you, your suspicions are confirmed: eyes sparkling, cheeks glistening with tears, lips pulled into a pronounced frown. “I can protect you! Why would you—”

“Because I’m a man!” You don’t intend to yell, but it’s too late. “I don’t want to need my girlfriend to protect me! I have a pride as a man, too, even if you’re the—” you don’t dare finish that sentence. You’re already yelling at her, you don’t need to step over that line.

“I’m the what?” she snaps. “I’m the CEO? I’m the older one? I’m the one with the money?”

“It—none of that matters. It wasn’t that big of a deal, anyway. A bruise here and there, it’s fine.”

“But it’s not fine! What if something worse happens down the line? If you continue to let these people walk all over you, what if they start throwing bigger, heavier things at you? What if you get hospitalized? What would I do then?”

“Why would you care, as long as my penis works fine.”

…

Wait.

What the fuck did you just say?

The silence is deafening. You can hear your heart racing inside your chest. It’s painful. It’s a twisting, churning sensation inside you, but worse than that is the fact that Taeyeon isn’t saying anything. You want to take it back. So badly. But, you can’t. What would you say?

“I—I need to go.”

“Honey, wait—”

For the first time since you’ve started this relationship, you disobey her. You continue walking, straight out of her office, and don’t stop until you reach a bar.

Is doing this going to ruin your reputation, and more importantly, Taeyeon’s reputation even more? Almost definitely. But at that moment, you don’t care. You probably don’t need to care much about Taeyeon’s reputation for much longer. You don’t remember the rest of the night at all, and wake up the next morning with a terrible, pounding headache. It takes a while to acquire your surroundings, and when you do, you realize you’re in the VIP room of the hospital Taeyeon’s doctor works at: a place you’ve visited to make sure you are, indeed, fertile, and for a few vaccines that you didn’t think of getting until Taeyeon suggested it.

Taeyeon, Taeyeon, Taeyeon. Your whole life revolves around Taeyeon. And now, what did you do to her? Imply that she’s only using you as a breeding horse, as if you can’t feel how much she loves you in the voice messages she sends you when she can’t come home about how she misses you, or the meal she cooked for you on your 400th day anniversary, or the various other gifts she showers you with because of some passing comment you don’t remember making the next day. All of that, and then that terrible thing you said to her, and she’s still taking care of you?

When the nurse bursts through the door and calls your name, your head is buried inside your hands. “Do you still have a hangover? I’ll get—”

“No, it’s ok.”

“…ok. Ms. Taeyeon is on her way.”

“I—” who are you to make demands of others? Especially since you’re only in this room because of her. Does she still love you? Does she still believe in you?

The next person to burst through the doors and call your name is none other than Kim Taeyeon herself. “Oh my god, sweetheart, I was so worried when I couldn’t get a reach of you and couldn’t find you at home…”

You listlessly try to escape her embrace, but Taeyeon is having none of that. She squeezes your head against her chest, and from the way you can feel her shaking, you can tell that she’s crying. Again. Because of you.

“I don’t deserve you, Taeyeon.”

“What?”

“Let’s be honest. I’m a nobody. You’re … you’re probably the only CEO in the world who has such a dedicated fanbase. Or, one of. Yet, you’re tying yourself down to me?”

“Don’t say that! I chose you because I love you!”

“No, you didn’t.” Taeyeon releases her embrace of you. This time, you meet her gaze. You feel like you need to. “You chose me because I’m compatible with you, right?”

“Oh…” Why does Taeyeon look so crestfallen? Seeing her in such a state twists at your heartstrings, so you stay silent and let her gather her thoughts. “…that’s not what I meant. It’s true, that I initially chose you because of that, but … I meant, I chose to stay with you because I fell in love with you. I chose you. Not because of your compatibility with my condition, but because of you. Not because of your penis, or your genes, or anything.”

And, the thing is, you know this. Is it simply because it’s hard to believe? That an amazing, a perfect woman like Taeyeon would ever want to be with someone like you? Is it that pride you have, as a man, that makes you want to be stubborn?

“I’m sorry.” It doesn’t matter what it was. Taeyeon, just her being here with you, despite how busy she must be, despite the fires she must be trying to put out regarding news articles that have probably been released about the boyfriend of the famous idol-CEO Kim Taeyeon found passed out drunk at some random bar, is enough to forget all of that. “I didn’t mean to say those words. It was wrong of me.” Taeyeon’s lips are already being pulled into a frown, and her eyes are already starting to tear up again, but when you say, “I know this is asking a lot … but can you forgive me?” she bursts out into a sob.

“Of course! Of course, I forgive you, honey!”

The bodyguard was only necessary for the next two months; after Taeyeon released a public statement, threatening to sue for damages and the netizens for their defamatory comments, you found being in public much more bearable. That hurdle in your relationship seems to have flicked something in Taeyeon, who finally started giving you more work after you asked her so many times for it, in the hopes that you can help alleviate her immense workload. Was it your comment about still having pride as a man? Who knows, really. What was important was that, now that you could help Taeyeon with her duties, she could be home much more often. The times she couldn’t be home, for the various business trips her duties as a CEO dictated, however, she decided to start taking you along.

As any multi-millionaire CEO, Taeyeon has her own private jet and her own crew for the jet, including a pilot and co-pilot. However, what was different about this jet was one aspect—a rather large aspect, honestly. One room inside the jet, with stabilizers in three dimensions to reduce the impact of turbulence for the people inside the room. Why would that be necessary when seatbelts are the common solution to turbulence?

“Mmm, ooh, ooh yeah…”

Taeyeon’s face is inches above your own, her eyes gently closed as your cock, firmly wedged between her legs and inside her swelteringly hot pussy, pries apart her tight walls. With every thrust, more of her juices sputter out onto the comforter covering the bed you’re lying on, and with every thrust, Taeyeon’s moans split through the loud hum of the jet’s engines.

“Fuck … I’m going to miss this so much…”

“So this is why you had this bed installed in your jet, huh?” Your hands are firmly planted on either side of her hips; even though the room is being stabilized in all degrees of motion, you still need to keep her in place so you can plow into her with the force her tight pussy demands of you. “To get some last-minute cock before toiling away on this business trip?”

Taeyeon smiles at you. It’s a mischievous, playful type of smile, one that reminds you that Taeyeon is more than the strict, calculating CEO, or even than the warm-hearted, kind and caring girlfriend, that she makes herself out to be. “So what if I did?”

“I would’ve said, ‘I didn’t know my girlfriend was such a fiend for my cock’, but then, I would be lying, wouldn’t I?”

Ever since that incident, the two of you have grown closer than ever before. It’s maybe something about voicing your insecurities about the relationship, how you feel inadequate in your desire be the protector despite Taeyeon having more of the means to act in that capacity, but after smoothing all that out, the hesitance of teasing Taeyeon too much or of belittling her a little in jest has gone away once you realize, ‘Oh. Taeyeon just wants me to treat her like any other girlfriend would. Just because she’s my sugar momma, doesn’t mean she’s my superior. In a relationship, both partners are equal, and this one shouldn’t be any different.’

“I would be sad if my boyfriend didn’t already know how much I loved feeling his cock destroy my wet, tight little pussy.” There’s something about Taeyeon’s dirty talk, too. It just … gets to you. Taeyeon has such a regal appearance in public, and in private, such a cute, traditionally pretty appearance, that hearing such filth coming out of her lips almost feels wrong. It feels like it doesn’t belong somehow, and that contrast is exactly what does it for you. “And how I love it so much, I spent millions to get this built for us, just so I could squeeze in an extra few hours of feeling his thick, veiny cock splitting my walls apart and feeling his hot, creamy cum spill into me.”

You’re going to go crazy. That’s for sure. It’s how you feel every time Taeyeon dirty talks to you, which you have noticed has been increasing in frequency as of late.

“God, I can’t believe you, Taeyeon…”

“I’m right here, babe. Believe in me.”

“You’re … what did I ever do to deserve you?”

Taeyeon doesn’t answer, and instead places her hands on your cheek and leans in for a kiss. It’s an incredible feeling every time, feeling the warm, plump, soft texture pressing against your lips, and then feeling her tongue against yours, but especially when in combination with the feeling of her body pressed against yours, and feeling her wet, hot snatch trying to squeeze the life out of your cock—you feel even further above the clouds than you already are.

Your bodies move in unison, both of you moaning into the kiss that are subsequently drowned out by the ever-present roaring of the jet engines. For privacy reasons, Taeyeon had the room soundproofed and doors locked; even meals were served on a food tray through a tiny slit that could only be opened from inside the room. And here lay the millionth benefit of dating the finest specimen of a woman on planet Earth: Taeyeon was always so thorough, especially when it came to your combined private time, that you knew you could enjoy it thoroughly without fear of any interferences.

“God, I love you so much, babe.”

“I love you too, Taeyeon.”

“You always tell me that you feel lucky to have me, but haven’t you ever stopped to consider how lucky I feel to have you?” Your movements aren’t forceful and vigorous as they are usually; this time, they’re slower and more sensual. This time, it feels more like lovemaking than baby-making, and you don’t really know how to deal with that. “You adapted to such a different lifestyle so quickly, you’re always willing to help me even in ways I couldn’t imagine, you’re always so patient with me, and you’re even willing to learn all the weird and highly-specified parts of my job so that you can help me with it, all so you can spend more time with me. I’ve met with and talked to many men in my life, but I doubt a single one of them could do as amazing of a job as my partner in life than you.”

It’s pretty overwhelming. Scratch that, it’s insanely overwhelming. Taeyeon, as any doting girlfriend, gives you compliments all the time, but none feel as heartfelt and sincere as this one. It feels like a balloon growing inside your chest, that you can imagine is your ego or sense of self-worth or something, and Taeyeon is pumping air into it with all the strength her skinny little arms can manage. Which is a surprising about, mind you.

What can you do with all this … this elation? A sense of pure love and warmth and caring and everything—it feels too much to bear. So, you do the only thing you know to do in such a situation.

“And none of them could fuck you like I do.”

The loving gaze in Taeyeon’s eyes shatters, her eyes disappearing into upside-down crescents and her lips pulled apart to allow for her laughter to spill out. She smacks you on the shoulder. “I’m trying to be serious here!”

You laugh along with her. “I love this. I love you. Everything. I’m the luckiest person in the world right now, to have you with me.”

“To feel such a hot, tight pussy squeezing your cock?”

“Oh, now who’s being the unserious one here?”

Taeyeon grins at you. “I’m like this because of you. You know that, right?”

“What? Little old me, corrupted the pure, innocent idol-CEO Kim Taeyeon?” Taeyeon smacks you on the shoulder again.

“I told you I don’t like being called that.”

“What? Kim Taeyeon? But that’s your name.”

“No, the other thing.”

“Oh, you don’t like being called pure or inno—” this time, Taeyeon interrupts you by suddenly starting to ride you, hard, causing your words to be cut off by a groan. “—fuck, babe…”

“Looks like mommy has to punish you for being such a naughty boy.”

Even with the constant droning of the jet engine’s roar, it’s like your ears can selectively pick out Taeyeon’s musical moans as she reaches her climax, and as you watch her ride you even more fiercely, you can only watch in absolute awe at the spectacle of Taeyeon succumbing to her orgasm atop your body, and the following visual of the creampie filling her cunt slowly trickling out of her hole and onto your body, and then onto the comforter when she rolls off you.

“So you’re coming around to that word, huh?”

Taeyeon nods. “I can’t believe I’m saying this … but it’s really hot.”

“Hmm, but not as hot as my mommy.”

Taeyeon nudges you a little, albeit with a smile on her face. “Shut up.”

Her response brings a smile to your own face. “Seeing as we’re not going to sleep, since it’s still probably around 6pm in our time, are you sure you don’t want to clean up?”

Taeyeon shakes her head. “I like feeling it inside me. Your cum. It’s so warm, and it feels like part of you is still inside me.” She leans against you and rests her head on your shoulder, which just so happens to fit perfectly into the crook of your neck. “Which, of course, it technically is. Or, was. Now, it’s mine.”

You let out a chuckle. “I didn’t know you were so possessive of my sperm.”

“I am! Your first baby should be with me. And all your babies in the future.”

“That’s the plan.”

Because of the privacy of the room, neither of you have to put on your clothes again, which are neatly stored in the modest closets that are also attached to the room. A little while after, the two of you enjoy dinner in the seats sat on the opposite side of the bed, facing it, while watching a movie on the TV hanging above the bed’s headboards, and then resume the movie cuddled up on the bed, watching it on the other TV situated between the seats, facing the bed.

There have been many instances in this new life that Taeyeon has pulled you into that made you realize that the wealthy actually live entirely different lives than most other people, and this is one of them. Even closing in on three years together, you’re still discovering all these new kinds of luxury that you couldn’t even fathom before meeting Taeyeon.

As the second movie’s credits start rolling, Taeyeon turns to you. “Ready?”

“Hm?”

Taeyeon swings her legs to the other side of your legs, her hands reaching down to rub your now growing erection. “I want more.”

The next time Taeyeon took you on a business trip, you immediately notice something different.

“Honey, who’s that seat for?”

Situated underneath the TV facing the bed is another, slightly wider, seat, with its backrest folded down. There seem to be some other things attached to it, but you can’t quite make out what they are.

“What do you mean? That’s for us.”

Taeyeon doesn’t elaborate further, only giving you a mysterious smile as you buckle yourselves up into the seats for takeoff. Once the captain notifies you that you’re free to move about the cabin, Taeyeon unbuckles herself from the seat and beckons for you to come.

“I still don’t understand…” you watch as she pushes the TV into the wall, pulls the seat out a little, and pulls up the backrest. And, as you watch it unfurl, you can start to see what she was going for.

“What are you doing with your clothes still on?” You chuckle but obey, storing your clothes into the closet, with Taeyeon following shortly. “Go ahead, sit down.”

“You seem … awfully excited about this.”

“I am!”

Both you and Taeyeon are switches. Sometimes, Taeyeon takes the lead and you’re more than ok with it, and sometimes, she lets you take the lead; sometimes, Taeyeon comes home from a long day of high-stress situations and you make sure she doesn’t have to make any more decisions, and sometimes, Taeyeon’s extended leave of absence from home makes both of you miss each other, which would more often than not result in Taeyeon exerting her will on you and you more than happy to be with her again. So, when you saw the wrist clamps extending about neck-level on either side of the backrest of the seat, you wondered who they were for: both of you, is probably the correct answer, but today, it was evident that Taeyeon wanted to use them.

“Hmm…” As your cock slides into her hot pussy, Taeyeon lets out a low moan, leaning back a bit onto your chest as she feels her walls being pulled apart, once again, by your girth. “Mmmm~”

“Always so tight for me, babe.”

“Always so hard for me, baby.” You plant a kiss next to her ear, eliciting a giggle; when you’re fully inside her, she directs you, “Help me with this?”

You turn your eyes to her hands—or, more accurately, her wrists, both of which are already inside the open wrist clamps. “You really want this?” Taeyeon nods fervently, so you waste no time in locking her wrists in place. And, just like that, her arms are suspended in the air, giving you full, unadulterated access to her entire body, left entirely to your whims.

“I’m all yours, baby.”

Such a situation is a dream-come-true for any sane, straight man: one of the most attractive, sexiest woman on the planet—in your eyes, the most attractive and the sexiest woman on the planet—giving herself up to you, fully. The only limbs she can control are her legs, but after you start pounding into her, even those start shaking about helplessly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, babe—”

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” You take advantage of her raised arms and wrap your arms around to grab a handful of those voluptuous boobs she was so carelessly showing off at the walkway to the airport—because, as an idol-CEO, fans still congregate to take pictures of her airport outfits, for some reason—and start palming them. Taeyeon lets out a sigh, arching her back and pushing her tits further into your hand. “You want a break from everything and just want to be coddled and pampered, right?”

Taeyeon nods, and although you can’t see it, you can feel how her head bobs up and down against your cheek.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take great care of you.”

“Ooh…”

Her voice hitches when you give her nipples a light pinch, but just as quickly as the stimulus surges through her body, so too does it dissipate. Your motions slow down to a sensual grind, and you can start to feel Taeyeon’s impatience building.

This is her doing. She chose to submit herself to you, and she should know how much you like building up the tension. As much as her display of ultimate submission makes you want to pound her into next Tuesday, you know this will yield a better result, for both you and Taeyeon.

“…baby…”

You plant kisses on her crown, then move to her cheek. She tilts that side of her head to you, giving you better access to her ears, which you take advantage of by nipping slightly. Every time your lips touch her face, Taeyeon seems to be holding in her breath a little bit more, and every time your fingers come dangerously close to her nipples, you can feel a sigh waiting to be released, desperately wanting to be released, but being held in at the last possible moment.

“Your boobs look so good in that outfit.”

“You told me this morning, honey.”

“So you can’t blame me for wanting to play with them a little bit more right now.”

“You can play with them while you’re fucking me harder, ri—” you interrupt her by planting a kiss right next to her lips, but not on them.

“You put me in charge, right?” Taeyeon nods. “Then, relax. Don’t think. Let me do everything for you, baby.”

Taeyeon follows your commands to a tee, sinking and sinking into your slow movements, practiced motions that you’ve taken years to perfect. Every square centimeter of Taeyeon’s body, you know, and you use that knowledge to tease out every last ounce of desire and wanting from her small, skinny, but somehow curvaceous frame.

“Ooh … my god…”

Your left hand leaves her boobs and travels south, and all it takes is one careful swipe of your finger along her entrance to reassure you how absolutely aroused Taeyeon has become.

“Hmm…”

“Open up.”

Taeyeon obeys, and you stick the finger slick with her juices inside her mouth. Instantly, her velvety lips close around the digit and her tongue goes to work, swirling around the finger and licking it clean. It’s not the first time you’ve done this to her, and it’s also not the first time you’ve wondered what letting loose a load between those pretty lips of hers would be like. To this day, all these years you’ve been together, all the various ways you two have fucked, and Taeyeon has still yet refused to let you cum anywhere but inside her. Not that you particularly mind, but every now and then, your mind starts to wander—what would she look like after a nice facial? How sexy would it be to see those slim cheeks puffing from an overabundance of your cum, with trickles of it escaping the corners of her mouth that she captures with her finger and feeds back into her mouth? What would these delectable tits, that have been the object of your fascination since Taeyeon put her airport outfit on this morning, look like with your cum smeared all over them? Or what about the juicy ass that she’s currently grinding against your crotch?

“You’re so unbelievably fucking beautiful, and so irresistibly sexy, Taeyeon.”

Taeyeon only responds with a sigh. You can hear the impatience in it—and, frankly, you’re nearly at your limit, too. You can start to feel her juices start to trickle down onto your legs and it’s this that becomes the last straw. The next sound Taeyeon makes is a loud yelp, in response to your fingers suddenly squeezing both nipples at the same time. “Ffuck!”

You start pounding into her, using the grip your hands have on her boobs as leverage to push her back and forth in your lap. Eventually, as you build up momentum, Taeyeon starts raising and falling, each time she lands back in your lap creating a nice, satisfying smack! sound that gets quickly drowned out by the airplane’s engines. Coincidentally, some faint rattling sound cuts through the air that you’ve come to realize is turbulence, something that the stabilizers attached to the room have prevented you from ever feeling. Unfortunately, you can’t make use of the bouncing of the airplane, but Taeyeon is light enough that you don’t need much help anyway.

“God, yes! Baby, please, more!”

You’re letting your hands follow the wild bouncing motion of her boobs as you bounce her on your lap, giving them the occasional squeeze as it does so. It always marvels you, how someone so small and so skinny can have such proportionally big boobs. She usually dresses a bit more conservatively in public, which is what made her choice of outfit this day so mouth-watering—Taeyeon rarely gives hints of her cleavage to the public, so when she reveals this much? You can only assume she was trying to seduce you, and it worked beautifully; before you even boarded the plane, you were having trouble trying to hide your boner. And now that it’s buried deep inside her, and now that her boobs are filling up your hands, especially since she’s given you full reign to do whatever you want to her, you intend to act on your horniness to its fullest extent.

“Don’t worry, honey, I’ll give you more.”

Among the many beautiful things about Taeyeon is her natural speaking voice, and that doubled for the voice with which she moaned her pleasure with. It only ever invigorates you more, to hear her moaning so animatedly, and your intensifying actions cause those moans to come out more frequently and with more frequency. It’s a self-feeding loop, a loop that only ends one way.

“Oh my gosh, babe, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum so hard—”

Your climax follows shortly after hers, and as you slump back into the backrest of the seat and Taeyeon rests her head against your chest, the salacious mixture trickles out of Taeyeon’s battered hole and onto the cushiony seat you’re seated upon. Your dick is still wedged inside aforementioned hole, and while you can feel some fatigue settling in, your dick’s efforts to soften is met with the fierce resistance of Taeyeon’s tight snatch, ever the hard worker.

“Baby…”

“Sorry, honey, just give me a minute…”

“…there’s a setting. On the right, there should be a button. On the armrest.”

When you first saw the button, you assumed it was to lean the seat back like any normal airplane economy-class seat, but now that you think about it, you realize how dumb that assumption was. There’s barely any space for this seat to lean back, and this seat is clearly not ‘like any normal airplane economy-class seat’.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Press it.”

“Hm, ok—oh, what the—” the seat starts bouncing, causing your dick to push a little bit deeper inside her. Taeyeon lets out a soft moan.

“Mmm, I’m so glad that works.”

“Taeyeon, what—”

“Do you mind?”

You can’t help but think of the meme that you aren’t sure is exactly a meme, ‘soaking’, the Mormon work around for couples to have sex without going through the physical motions of it. If it is indeed a thing, you wonder how much this kind of a chair would be worth to them.

“Does it feel good for you?”

Taeyeon nods. “Yes. God, yes, I love that feeling, of your cock fucking our creampie back inside me.”

If you weren’t being hit with your refractory period, Taeyeon saying such a filthy sentence would’ve caused you to instantaneously jump her—now, all you could do is let out a groan and put your hands back on her boobs.

“Fuck…”

“Do you like it?”

“I … I’m still, I still can’t, but fuck, I love the feeling of your boobs in my hands.”

The bouncing of the chair is rather slow—Taeyeon makes a comment about how she needs to tell them to modify it to have varying speeds, and then you briefly think about the poor engineers who have worked on this plane and have installed all sorts of various, weird things in it, with a probably pretty good idea for its use case but having to go along with it anyway—but the two of you stay like this while you recover. The chair pushes you in and out of Taeyeon while your hands continue to knead and squeeze the addictively soft and plush texture of her tits, and as your refractory period fades, you start adding to the chair’s efforts. You eventually transition to a standing position, with Taeyeon now facing the seat, her wrists again trapped by the wrist clamps, and you standing behind her.

“Fuck, yes, please, more!”

No longer having to fight gravity, the sound of her ass smacking against your drenched groin nearly overpowers the roar of the airplane’s engines. “Fuck, Taeyeon, I’m so close…”

“Give it to me, give it to me! Fill me up to the brim, baby!”

You let out a final, warning grunt before exploding, your second load bursting inside her—a notably lesser load, but one that still sends Taeyeon into a moaning, squirming frenzy. By the time your orgasm subsides and you pull out of her, it’s like a dam burst; Taeyeon’s poor cunt barely had a few minutes in the last hour or so not being stretched open by your cock, and the rough shape of it can still be seen by how widely her labia is still parted. Out that hole, the combined cum of two orgasms, from both herself and from you, are gushing out, following the curve of her ass and down her leg. Somehow, Taeyeon doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest and throws herself onto the bed.

“What do you want to watch, baby?”

How Taeyeon can switch from sexy seductress to adorable girlfriend is beyond you. All you can do is smile and join her in bed. “I don’t know. Let’s take a look.”

Slowly, you started to notice a reduction in your workload, but it somehow didn’t come with less time with Taeyeon. In fact, Taeyeon’s workload seemed to decrease along with yours, and when you asked her about this, she confirmed your suspicions: she’s slowly offloading her duties and responsibilities to others so that she can focus on the baby that you finally managed to impregnate her with.

The dream didn’t last long though; a few false positives from the past has taught you two to be cautious about your excitement, but when the two-week mark passed and everything seemed to be going well, you could feel Taeyeon’s excitement building and building, and you couldn’t help but get infected with that same excitement. So, when news came a month later that the fetus suddenly, inexplicably died in the womb, Taeyeon was beyond devastated. It took Taeyeon a full three days to get back to work, which, for such a hard worker as her, was a long break. Between taking over some of her basic day-to-day duties in that down time and comforting her, your own hands were quite full those three days, but honestly, you’re thankful to finally be able to give back to Taeyeon.

Over the next few weeks, Taeyeon slowly got back on her feet, and after the third month passed, it was almost like nothing happened. You’re sure you helped, but the timing couldn’t be any more immaculate: or, perhaps, you could say that the news came at a terrible time. Taeyeon had been preparing to step down as CEO for a while, and move to a chairwoman position in her company, but there was one last thing she couldn’t offload any work with: a merger with a smaller company, but still one that ate through a lot of her time and effort. In the final stretches of the process, after a stretch of one week without being able to come home, you decide to make a surprise visit to her office, to which she welcomes you with open arms. Open arms, or rather, parted lips.

“Yes, fuck, I needed this so bad~”

Taeyeon’s hands are gripping the edges of her desk, holding on for dear life as you plow into her from behind. Your clothes are strewn haphazardly about the room, the door firmly locked and, without the threat of interruption, you feel free to use 100% of your efforts into alleviating all the pent-up stress the merger has caused Taeyeon.

The view from the front, of seeing her face twisting with pleasure as you slam into her; the view from the side, seeing her ample tits jiggling wildly with the force of your thrusts; the view from the back, the one you’re currently enjoying, watching her juicy romp rebounding with every pistoning motion—there isn’t a single view of Taeyeon that isn’t immaculate.

“I missed you too.”

Taeyeon can barely hold it together, her entire body shaking in response to your vigorous movements, her legs only able to stay upright thanks to the support your own legs are giving them. The whirring of the air conditioning mixes in with the wet clapping of her ass against your crotch, and the cool air only serving to further stimulate the CEO, devoid of all clothing, being plowed from behind at her own desk.

“I-I, I love you so much, so much, baby.”

Taeyeon gave you only a minute after you arrived before jumping you. Honestly, this wasn’t your plan in the slightest, but who are you to complain? When such a bombshell beauty is so horny for you that she physically cannot contain it, especially if that bombshell beauty happens to be your girlfriend of just about five years.

“I love you too, mommy.”

Although you’re fucking her from behind, it was clear from the moment she crashed her lips onto yours that she is the one in charge. And, of course, you don’t mind. You also don’t mind how readily she slipped into the roleplay, her first words to you after the kiss being, “Mommy needs her baby’s cock, now.”

When she’s submissive, you find yourself wanting to thoroughly fuck her and ruin her in every way imaginable; but when she’s assertive, you find yourself instantly kneeling in obedience, worshipping the ground she walks on. Which leads you to this moment, where her pleas of, “faster!” and “more!” and “harder!” are instantly met with obedience. It isn’t long before Taeyeon isn’t able to maintain her grip of the desk any longer, so you take her arms and use them as handlebars to fuck her harder.

“God, mommy’s cumming, mommy’s cumming!”

The office fills with the beautiful, ecstatic sounds of Taeyeon’s climatic screaming moans, and not shortly after, it’s joined by the sounds of your own moans as you imbed stream after stream of your seed straight into her womb.

“Oh … my god…”

“Do you feel better now?”

Taeyeon nods, but when she turns around, it’s clear that this isn’t over yet. “You know what would make mommy feel better?” You shake your head. “First, in the second drawer from the top, there’s a false bottom that you can bypass by pushing on the side.” You nod, and sure enough, the false bottom gives way. “You see that plug?” Again, you nod, and take it out. It isn’t the first time you’ve done this, nor even the first time you’ve done this in her office really, but what follows after she inserts it inside herself is a first. “You know what else I’ve been thinking about recently?”

“Hm? What?”

At this point, Taeyeon has directed you sit down in her chair. You obeyed, confused, and now that she’s pushing you away from the desk and kneeling between your legs, you can start to see why. “Mommy.”

“Sorry. What have you been thinking about, mommy?”

Satisfied, Taeyeon smiles. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, but it’s only this past week that I could get it out of my mind.” You’re still recovering, but Taeyeon is certainly making the recovery process easier. “That warm, thick, creamy cum that you always fill me with, that’s inside me right now … I want to taste it.”

At this point in your relationship, you figure nothing about Taeyeon can really surprise you. You’ve even talked about some of the deeper aspects of your relationship, such as why Taeyeon doesn’t want to get married yet: her parents only stayed together because they had her, and eventually, their relationship healed to the point where they, now, are perfectly happy in their retirement. It’s this experience that molded Taeyeon’s opinion of relationships: if she were to have a romantic partner, she wanted to only have one, and to ensure that, she wanted to have a child with that partner before getting marriage, as a sort of insurance.

It’s why Taeyeon seemed so eager to bear your child recently, and why she became so utterly devastated when her first pregnancy ended the way it did. Many aspects of Taeyeon, you figure you already know, and every aspect of her, you cherish and love.

But this?

This is not something you expected.

“Are … you sure?”

Taeyeon nods, eyes glimmering with excitement. “Yes! Do you mind?”

“Of—Of course not, mommy!”

You have become so accustomed to releasing every load inside her womb—or at least, going into sex with the idea of that being your target—that even the thought of unloading anywhere else seems foreign. But, of course, over the years, your mind has drifted and fantasized, and you’re for the most part able to quash these fantasies pretty easily. After all, the price of being in a relationship with Taeyeon, and having somewhat frequent sex with her, is just that you’re only allowed to cum inside one of her holes? It’s a trivially easy price to pay.

“Oh, thank you, baby!”

That thought, of being able to unleash your first load deep inside her throat, combined with the kisses Taeyeon peppers all about your length, shortens your refractory period down to just about ten minutes. That feeling, of her soft, succulent lips pressing against your member, the audible smacking sound of the kiss as she presses her lips against it, the careful way in which she almost caresses your cock with her lips and her tongue sends you straight to cloud nine, and when she swallows your glans, you’re rocketed straight into outer space.

“Ffuck, mommy…”

It isn’t often that Taeyeon gives you blowjobs, but she’s done it enough that she can take your entire length in one go. She wastes no time, deepthroating you with all the enthusiasm the excited gleam in her eyes showed you, and all you can do is grip the armrests of the chair and buck your hips to the rhythm of her lips.

“Fuck, oh my god, please, mommy, it feels so fucking amazing…”

The feeling of her lips gliding up and down your shaft, her tongue caressing and massaging every square inch of your dick, all the while suffocating it with the sheer tightness of her throat quickly overwhelms your senses. This blowjob—this deepthroating is unlike any Taeyeon has ever given you: she’s more intense, she spends less time coming up for air, spitting on your cock, and rubbing it along your length with her hands, and without needing to care about your orgasm, she completely loses herself in it.

More and more intense, faster, harder, you’re losing your goddamn mind, Taeyeon slobbering all over your dick, the excess drool dripping down her chin and all over your thighs, but she somehow looks ten times sexier like that. Her normally slim face and sleek jawline are now noticeably bulging from your girth, her plump lips stretched wide across its circumference, her head bobbing up and down and her hair flying all over the place, chasing after the wild motions of the head it’s attached to.

“Fuck, mommy, please, I’m so close…”

Hearing this, Taeyeon’s eyes, which were previously glued to your lap, dart upwards, and she adjusts her position so that she can look you in the eye, full-on. You’re unable to tear your eyes away, every bobbing motion of her head and every suction that hollows her cheeks pushing you further and higher until—

“Mommy, I’m cumming!”

Taeyeon doesn’t break eye contact the entire length of your climax; it’s your second load of the session, so it’s not so much that she can’t handle it, but her cheeks still noticeably bulge as her mouth fills with your semen.

Carefully, making sure she doesn’t spill a single drop, Taeyeon’s lips come back up your length. In that moment, you, for a second marvel at the fact that your seed is now occupying two of Taeyeon’s holes, but that fact remains short lived as, shortly after, Taeyeon’s throat flexes and your fluids disappear down her gullet.

“Mmm…”

“So, how was it?”

“I think I like it.”

The two of you didn’t have much time to talk afterwards as she had a meeting to prepare for. Being someone who essentially knew everything Taeyeon did about the company, you figured you would sit in on the meeting in case she needed help with anything, but ended up being distracted with the thought that Taeyeon had yet to take the plug out yet, and was talking to her stockholders, present and future, with your cum still sloshing about inside her.

After the merger successfully resolved, Taeyeon stepped down as CEO and transitioned into a chairwoman position, as promised; and, with the increased amount of time on her and your hands, and with the memory of that fiasco in her office fresh in her mind, Taeyeon began proposing you to cum elsewhere quite frequently: a few more times in her mouth, but also on her ass, on her tits, smearing that tight little tummy of hers, splattering across her legs, and after a fair bit of experimentation, inside her ass.

The most memorable moment, by far, was—

“How do I look?”

Taeyeon insisted your first load be across her chest; needless to say, Taeyeon’s boobs are as sexy as she is beautiful, so to see them smeared with your cum amplifies that tenfold.

“So unbelievably fucking sexy.”

“I feel sexy too, so I was hoping…” Taeyeon reaches into the nightstand next to the bed and procures a bottle of pills. “…that you would help me feel even sexier.”

The pills turned out to be a performance enhancer mixed in something that helps increase ejaculation density. That night, the two of you went through all sorts of sex positions, every load being sprayed across a different part of her body: her stomach area followed a mixture of missionary and cowboy, then her face after a blowjob, then her back following doggy and her legs following prone-bone. Even with the drugs, you had to take considerable breaks in between sessions, especially at the tail-end; the end product was Taeyeon caked in a fine layer of your cum, smeared across just about every square inch of her body. When the two of you fell asleep, it was well past 5am, and the following morning—rather, the following afternoon, being the time the two of you awoke—you enjoyed a nice shower together.

That wasn’t to say you stopped entirely in your baby making attempts. Far from it: now that Taeyeon’s workload decreased so severely, the two of you had much more time to fuck—there even was a stretch of two weeks where you had sex every day, only paused by your need to rest and recover from all of the intense activity. None of it seemed to affect anything though: weekly pregnancy tests, all resulting in negatives or false positives; you can feel Taeyeon start to get impatient, not with her failure to get pregnant, but holding off marriage for so long.

By now, over half a decade together, you can’t imagine life with another person. If, God forbid, the two of you ever broke up, you figure you would just stay single for the rest of your life; after all, how could you settle for any other woman after Taeyeon? It was clear that Taeyeon was hoping to get married around the time she stepped down as CEO, but now that a year passed since that day, Taeyeon began to talk to you, in more earnest, about getting married first.

So, about 7 years from the day you two solidified your relationship, you got married. It was a very small and private affair, consisting only of the immediate families of both parties, seven of Taeyeon’s closest friends, and the handful of friends that had never judged your relationship with Taeyeon after learning about it.

The sex following the wedding night was easily the most rambunctious the two of you have ever been, lasting well until the sun rose the next day, and during the honeymoon was … a different kind of intense.

“Mmm, that smells so good, honey.”

Taeyeon lets out a soft gasp upon feeling your erection pressing against her bare ass. “I had Andre teach me.”

It was a quaint, quiet, isolated destination, your and Taeyeon’s choice of honeymoon. The house was packed with enough food to feed a family of four for two weeks, probably, enough wine for a battalion for one night’s celebration—the backup generators had backup generators, and there were at least five failsafe methods of communication in the worst case scenarios. The fact that you two don’t require a single other person to live luxuriously in the sizable estate, and the fact that other people are forbidden to enter even the premises of the estate, serve the singular purpose of allowing both you and Taeyeon to follow one rather simple rule: no means of covering one’s body is allowed except for an apron while cooking, gloves or other protective gear when handling hot surfaces or otherwise dangerous objects, or clothes if you’re, for whatever reason, expecting company.

Which explains this scenario, in which you are teasing at her hole as Taeyeon tries to focus on making brunch for the two of you.

“Baby, please…”

“You should focus on the food, babe.”

“I can’t … I can’t focus, your dick is driving me crazy…”

“Then all the more reason why I shouldn’t put it in, right? Because then, you’ll be even more likely to burn the food.”

“Just … babe, please, I need it so bad, just—”

“Are you gonna burn the food if I listen to you?”

“No! Please, I promise, please—”

You don’t need to hear much more, and when you shove yourself inside her, Taeyeon lets out a loud yelp. “Hmm, fuck, so hot and so tight, baby…”

“Fuck, oh my god, after all these years, it still feels like you’re stretching me out so much every time…”

Being near a hot stove, you can’t be as relentless as you have been the last few days, but seeing her trying her best to focus on the food she’s cooking while moaning and trying, but failing, to maintaining a steady hand, ending up sprinkling in a bit too much salt.

“Baby!”

“But you wanted this, didn’t you?”

“But you don’t have to—unng, fuck!”

You finish inside her, and shortly after, Taeyeon finishes her cooking—some of it did, in fact, get slightly burned, but otherwise was great.

Taeyeon instigates nearly as much as you, though—like, when you were napping on a lounge chair by the poolside, something only possible to do while naked in the winter because of the tropical climate of the destination, and awake to the feeling of Taeyeon climbing on top of you.

“Taeyeon?”

“I miss you.”

“How long have I been napping here? An hour?”

Taeyeon pouts, and your heart completely melts at the sight. “That’s an hour too long.”

“Aww, poor baby.” You lean forward and plant a kiss on her lips, which instantly turns the pout into a smile. “Is that better?”

“Mmhm. But, I could be even better…”

It turns out, having sex on a lounge chair isn’t exactly the most comfortable thing, especially if you’re being as vigorous as you and Taeyeon are. You end up breaking it, so you finish inside the pool and then go back inside to do some couple’s yoga in one of the estate’s living rooms.

In the two weeks that you two spend there, every room becomes witness to your hot, sweaty activities—in fact, you aren’t even sure if the bedroom is where you and Taeyeon end up fucking the most. For the span of those two weeks, Taeyeon insisted on having every drop of cum being deposited inside her pussy, although you end up cheating a little and cumming a few times in her other two holes, once on her face, and once on her boobs after a mind-blowing blowjob mixed with a titjob.

And, it turns out, getting married is all it takes—either that, or the two weeks of what essentially amounted to nonstop sex—for Taeyeon to get pregnant. After various double and triple checks, her personal doctor is able to confirm it: finally, again, after all these years, Taeyeon is pregnant. You can’t describe why exactly you feel this way, but there’s something about things—how much more solid your relationship with Taeyeon is, the fact that you’re married now, the significantly less stress Taeyeon deals with on a day-to-day basis—that makes you feel confident that it’ll work out this time.

“Have you thought of a name?”

“Hm…”

You laugh. “After all this time?”

“Well, I have thought of a name if it’s a girl.”

“Hm? What is it, then?”

“How does ‘Minjeong’ sound?”

#kpop smut #smut #snsd #snsd smut #taeyeon #kim taeyeon #taeyeon smut #creamp1e #mommy k!nk #mommy Taeyeon #sugar mommy Taeyeon #this might be the fastest I've ever written almost 13k words holy shit #Taeyeon making me go feral for no reason #breeding k1nk

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effieotto · 2 months ago

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Sunrise on the reaping bellow, you know the drill

“I know that,” she says. “I’ve known who you are ever since you helped with my makeup box. And I know your position could not have been easy.”

It’s surprisingly touching. “Thanks, Effie.”

“But they really are for a greater good. The Hunger Games.” And now she’s lost me.

this scene really struck me, because…does she really think that? I find it funny how fast she recognized the anti-government edge of her speech, implying that “she knows his position could not have been easy, thus she felt sorry he had to go through it”, and how it went against the whole purpose of how it was all the great sacrifice she was supposed to believe, and just as fast made sure to reaffirm that it all was for a greater good. Even though it sounded out of place.

Stay with me —since the beginning, when she broke into the apartment with those outfits in hand, telling everyone they should work hard because “A lot of people lost their lives to guarantee peace and prosperity for their nation”, effie wasn’t giving her opinion on the matter, she was repeating the propaganda the government sold. Word for word.

which reminds me how she wasn’t clueless to the consequences of their acts during the first two books. How upset she was every time Katniss did something reckless, because she knew it was going to affect “all of them”. How she knew about Seneca’s not-quite-suicide, and was terrified to know that Katniss did know too…all of it doesn’t imply the sky-level of ignorance we usually associate with her.

the trinkets were somehow disgraced in society, hence effie had to do the double duty of clawing her way back into the high class to be respected in the field and still try to protect her sister’s reputation and, more likely than not, her safety. This was hard labor and it probably gave her some privileged knowledge of how it all really worked. She was the victim of a dictatorship, and i feel like she knew exactly what it meant…she did believe in the propaganda Snow sold, at some level,but she also knew she didn’t have a choice of supporting it or not

which brings us back to the scene— effie was in the bugged apartment of District Twelve with a dozen of peacekeepers standing right behind her, her little speech about her recognizing haymitch as a real person, and feeling sorry (or the closest thing of remorse she could afford) was risky (if you know how not-understanding a dictator is when it comes down to anti-government speeches, you know that she was in danger only for feeling sorry) and she knew that. she had a sister, she had a reputation, she had a family and friends, and years of life…is it really a surprise that she would jump right into her parrot-mood when she noticed she was that close to imply she didn’t really agreed with the whole ordeal?

Was Effie truly a loyalist who buys into the capitol propaganda, or is she just a person under a totalitarian regime who knows the boundaries of safety? She was terrified of the president, you can see that when she said “HE asked you to wear it”. she had people to lose, she had her own safety on the line, should she risk it all for a boy she barely knew?

I am not saying she didn’t have her controversial opinion, or that she didn’t believe in the idea that the games guaranteed her safety. What i am saying is that she saw it more like an unavoidable social dutty than a necessity, and she’s aware that she couldn’t speak against it if she wanted to see the sun rising the next day. She is a much more complex character than just “a selfish loyalist who truly buys the entire propaganda” or the “innocent daughter of Panem”

#It’s crazy how the meaning is lost by those who never experienced it #haymitch abernathy #hayffie #sunrise on the reaping #sotr-effie #character study #thg sotr #sotr #thg series #katniss everdeen #hunger games #effie trinket #thg

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luxaofhesperides · 10 months ago

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the lost brother - damian

There is static in his ears.

There is a baby in his arms.

His niece. His niece from a brother dead before he was born. The daughter of Danyal, his mother's greatest regret, the ghost haunting his childhood, the brother he never got to have.

She is so small in his arms. Still. Quiet.

It frightens him, cradling such a fragile life in his arms. He's not good with most people, let alone a baby.

Danyal must have been truly desperate to leave her with him.

"Robin."

The voice makes the world come rushing back into place. Damian moves before he thinks, turning his body to shield his niece from danger, but it's only Red Robin standing before him. He stares, wide eyed, until Red Robin pushes his cowl back and Drake stands before him, expression carefully neutral. He doesn't look at the baby in Damian's arms. He only looks at Damian.

"Robin, come on. The Batmobile is right below us."

Damian hesitates, then follows Drake to the edge of the roof. He takes the fire escape down, landing carefully so he doesn't jostle the baby in his arms, and Drake grapples down a moment later, carefully maintaining the distance between them.

He knows it's to keep Damian from feeling trapped, and he's stupidly grateful, though he'll never say so.

The rest of the family will be a pain to deal with. They will demand answers he doesn't have, invade his space, insist on taking his niece from him. At least Drake is quiet and willing to observe without interference beyond getting them all home.

As promised, the Batmobile waits for them in the alley. Drake holds the door open and Damian slides in, adjusting his niece to make sure she's comfortable. She blinks up at him with dark blue eyes.

How strange. He had expected them to be green.

Drake drives them, speaking in short bursts into his comm. Damian brings a hand up to his own, realising rather belatedly that it's muted. Oracle must have grown annoyed at the barage of questions heading his way and silenced them for him.

He'll have to thank her later, once things have settled down.

For now, all his attention is on his little baby niece. What did Danyal say her name was?

Ellie.

Ellie Ellie Ellie.

She reaches up with a small hand, curious, and Damian offers a finger for her to latch on to. Her grip isn't strong, and her hand is small and barely warm.

He holds her closer for the rest of the ride home.

Father wants to take Ellie away for tests. Damian refuses to let go of her, going as far as leveling a sword at anyone who tries.

Drake is the only one who offers to only draw the barest minimum amount of blood for a DNA test, all while Damian holds her.

This, he accepts.

The others hover in his periphery, muttering amongst themselves, but Damian cares little for their thoughts and judgements. He was given Ellie for the sole purpose of caring for her. He will not fail in his duty. If it comes to it that he has to hide away with Mother for the rest of them to calm down, then he will. Surely she'll want to be involved with her granddaughter.

He'll have to tell her about Danyal, anyways.

Father stays at the computer, watching as the results load. He does not look away from the screen to even greet Ellie.

Damian pushes down his bitterness. He knows well the kind of man Father is, now. This is expected of him.

It's Richard that stays by him, hurrying across the Cave with an armful of diapers and baby clothes.

"I wasn't sure what to get, so I got a bit of everything," he explains, setting everything down on the cot where Damian sits with Ellie. Richard cut his patrol short as soon as Danyal left and made an emergency run to the nearest store with baby supplies, pulling sweatpants and a jacket over his Nightwing suit. The collar of the suit peeks out from beneath his jacket, and Damian is sure that it's only the late hour that kept anyone from asking too many questions while Richard was shopping.

"Thank you," Damian mutters. He sets Ellie down carefully, and she blinks up at him with tired eyes. Her face is round with baby fat, but not by much. "How do I…?"

"I think I know how to change a diaper," Richard offers, already pulling a fresh one out of the pack. He gets a small pack of baby wipes out of his pocket and quickly undoes the diaper on Ellie, wiping her down. Damian watches carefully, committing each step to memory as Richard changes her diaper and makes sure she's comfortable.

They're all out of their depths, Damian realizes. Have any of them actually cared for a baby? Pennyworth might have had some idea, and though he died a few years ago, the loss of him aches sharply even now.

"We'll have to figure out how old she is before we get any food for her," Richard murmurs, reaching out to brush a finger against her cheek. His eyes are soft, sad, and Damian lets out a slow breath, relived to know he can trust Richard with Ellie. "What happened?"

It's the question everyone's been asking him, and Damian has refused to answer each time.

But he will answer Richard.

"I saw a person on the edge of the roof as I patrolled. I went down to bring them to safety. He was… I had an older brother who died before I was born. But I know what he looks like. It was him, on that roof."

"You think he came back to life?"

"He must have. He was placed in a Lazarus Pit, but Mother said it didn't bring him back. Perhaps it just took time."

"What made you think it was him, if you've never met him?"

Damian thinks back. The man on the roof was a few years older than Drake, thin and worn-down. His eyes caught Damian's attention first; al Ghul's have very distinctive eyes, and it seems they both inherited that trait from Mother. Beyond that…

Lazarus Pits have magic in them. They wouldn't be able to do what they did without it. Those revived by Lazarus Pits carry some of it with them; it's not Pit Rage, which fades within an hour, but something else that leaves them on the boundary of inhuman. Damian grew up around the Pits and people who used them. He knows what the magic of the Pits feels like, and he could feel it in Danyal.

"I just knew," Damian answers. "Should Mother ever meet him, she'll be able to tell you the same thing: that was Danyal. And this is his daughter."

"Do you know why he left his daughter with you?"

"He asked if Batman was a good father. If I was safe here. Only then did he give Ellie to me."

"He could have stayed to," Richard says, sadness coloring his tone.

Damian doesn't respond. What could he say? Yes, Danyal could have stayed and joined them. He chose not to, for whatever reason. They have not found him yet, and Damian doubts they will find him any time soon.

Danyal is the first son of Talia al Ghul and Bruce Wayne. He will not be found until he wants to be.

Damian will have to wait until then.

The DNA results come back after eight rounds of testing.

Ellie is indeed Damian's niece.

The closest matches to her in the database are Damian and Bruce, which all but confirms that Danyal is indeed the first blood son of the Bat.

Father stares down at Ellie with an unreadable look on his face. He doesn't try to hold her; Damian doesn't know if he should be grateful for this or not.

"I have another son," he says. "And neither you nor your mother ever told me."

"He was dead," Damian answers, "What use would a dead child be to you? Even I never met him until tonight. He was gone long before I was born."

"He's still my son!"

"He's a stranger," Damian bites back. "Why do you pretend to care now? He has never been a part of our lives before. You won't even hold his daughter."

Father flinches back, just slightly, but it's enough to know that the barb hit. Damian gathers Ellie up into his arms and heads for the stairs. "I will be going to sleep now. Ellie will stay with me. You are welcome to stay down here to search for Danyal, or you can get some rest to join me in shopping for Ellie. I will call Mother. Good night."

The others don't have the decency to wait until he's completely out of the Cave before they begin shouting amongst themselves. Damian clicks his tongue and looks down at Ellie, who's sleeping peacefully.

"Let's hope you grow up to have more sense than them," he says to her.

He lays her on top of the blankets, then curls up next to her. It's a long time before he's able to fall asleep.

Mother calls first thing in the morning. Damian's barely had time to brush his teeth before his phone is ringing, and he has to rush to catch it before the call ends.

"Is it true?" she demands as soon as he answers, "Was it Danyal?"

Damian bites back a curse. He said he'd call her. It would have been best if he had been the one to break the news, rather than anyone else, but it doesn't surprise him that no one listened.

"It's true," he says. "Danyal was in Gotham last night. He left his daughter in my care before disappearing. I was unable to speak to him more."

"How can that be," she says, breathless, "It's been decades since his death. The Lazarus Pit never returned him to me."

"It was him. That's all I know."

There's a pause as his mother gathers her composure. Then she says, "I will be in Gotham in a week. I will not be kept out of my granddaughter's life."

"I will make sure we have a room ready for you."

"Good. Take care, habibi."

The call ends without any other fanfare. Damian drops his head with a sigh and tosses his phone back onto his desk.

On his bed, Ellie is sitting up, watching him curiously.

"You and your father have caused a lot of trouble already," he tells her, and she claps her hands together.

When he goes downstairs, he immediately makes note of Drake and Brown's presence with displeasure. His hopes for a quiet morning are dashed before he even reached the kitchen.

"There you are!" Brown says far too loudly. She bounds up to him, ignoring his scowl, and peers at Ellie. "Hm, I'd guess around nine to eleven months, accounting for FTT and some malnutrition."

"FTT?" he repeats.

"Failure to thrive. If infants aren't care for properly, which includes cuddling, then they just… don't grow as they should. They end up smaller and weaker than is expected for their age."

"I imagine she was not taken care of properly, wherever she was before. She wouldn't have been left with me otherwise."

Brown looks troubled, but she blinks it away and smiles when Ellie reaches up to grab at her nose. "Hello there," she says in a soft voice, "I'm your favorite aunt. Don't forget that, alright! I'm your favorite."

Damian pushes her away. "She has no favorites."

"Not yet, but it'll definitely be me when she does!"

"Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?"

"No. But, in all seriousness, me and Tim are here to help. He gave me a rundown and what happened and I still have a bunch of stuff from my pregnancy classes that can help you. We also got some baby food and milk and formula for the baby, since she'll need to eat and be burped. I can walk you through all of that so you can start getting some experience in baby care."

Ah. He had forgotten that Brown had once been pregnant. That she gave away her own baby.

It must be hard for her to be on the other end of that situation, to watch someone take in a baby whose parent couldn't properly care for her, to muster up a smile and all the information she has to make things better.

"I would… appreciate that, Brown."

"Good! Well, lesson one starts now."

She throws open the door to the kitchen, where Drake is pressing the tip of a feeding bottle against the inside of his wrist. "Come here," he says to Damian. "Hold out a hand."

Curious, Damian does as told, and watches as Drake pressed the warm tip of the bottle against his wrist, where liquid splots out onto his skin. "That's about how warm it should be when you feed her. Here." He presses the bottle into Damian's hands, and it takes some adjustment before he can feed Ellie, who starts off slowly, then with more energy.

Brown tosses a rag over his shoulder, and instructs him on how to burp Ellie once she's finished eating. She coughs up some formula, then settles back into his arms, eyes closing as she begins to doze.

"I'll handle shopping," Drake says. "You need a crib, right? Maybe some toys… Just text me a list, I'll get everything."

"Why are you doing all this?" Damian can't help but ask. "We are not exactly… close."

Drake blinks at him, as though he's confused. "Because a baby is a big responsibility. And just because we don't always get along doesn't mean we're not family. She's my neice too. Doesn't she deserve to have more people in her corner?"

Damian can't argue with that, so he nods and lets Drake go to buy whatever he thinks is necessary. Brown lingers in the kitchen, making breakfast for them both in between sneaking glances at Ellie. Usually being watched so obviously would have him on edge and snappy, but he understands the urge to keep looking; he also can't take his eyes off of Ellie.

For someone so small to go through such hardship already… he doesn't understand how anyone can look at her and not want to keep her safe.

He wonders if anyone is keeping Danyal safe.

As much as he wants to go after Danyal, search for his resurrected brother, Ellie takes priority.

She's the one who's here to stay, after all.

Father doesn't come up from the Batcave all day.

Damian tries not to hate him for it.

He doesn't think he succeeds.

(masterpost for all parts)

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #demon brothers #the harmless series #dcxdp fic #my writing #now comes complicated family!!!! hehehehe #yes alfred is dead. this takes place a few years after his death. so damian's around 15 and danny's about 24 #this will be explained more later. just know he was in that lab for a very long time.

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nochepsicodelica · 9 months ago

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Please Please 🙏🏾 Write something with Toji and female reader who does that tiktok trend when she’s about to change her clothings but asks her BF (Toji) to step out or look away btw this would not be in early relationship I’d say they been together for a long time 🥹🩷🩷

Hehe, this is silly. I love this! ☺️ Thank you for the idea <3

Suggestive

"This dress or this dress," you say, pushing both options into Toji's face. You laugh when he swats at them.

"Well, if I could see them properly, I might be able to help you," he grumbles.

"So sassy," you say under your breath, rolling your eyes as you pull them back for him to see them more clearly.

"What's that?" He asks, looking over the dresses, at you as he waits for you to repeat yourself.

"I said, this dress or this dress," you repeat, louder, purposely ignoring what he actually wanted to hear.

He scoffs. "So sassy." He looks both dresses up and down and immediately makes his choice. He likes feeling up on your body through silk, so there goes his vote. "That one," he says, pointing at the dark blue, smooth dress.

"Okay," you say, sitting down on the edge of the bed, back turned towards him as you begin to lift your shirt. You can feel Toji's eyes burning a hole into your back, causing you to turn your head to the side to look at him. "Can you... Do you mind?"

"Do I mind what?" He asks, sitting up on the bed so he can watch you closely.

"Can you go outside while I change? Just really quick. It'll be like two minutes," you elaborate.

"Why would I do that?" He asks, almost baffled by this sudden change in you. You've been together for a long time and have gotten so comfortable around each other that the bathroom door isn't locked when either of you showers. He's gone in to piss while you're showering and vice-versa. You even hold conversations during those times, but all of a sudden you don't want him to look at you while you change?

"Can you at least turn around? You don't have to leave, but can you face the wall or something?" You request, pulling your shirt back down to really sell your bit.

"What's up, ma?" He asks, now truly concerned for what's going on in your head for you to suddenly act this way.

"Nothing. Just want a little privacy is all. I'm about to take off my shirt and my shorts. I'm gonna be in just my bra and underwear for a few seconds."

"Yeah, I know, but I don't get why you're trynna hide from me. I've literally seen you naked, countless times. I've touched every part of you. I've been inside you."

"I don't know. I guess I just want a couple minutes to myself. Like I said, it'll be two minutes, then you can look at me."

It's weird. You're acting weird. This has never been an issue. Normally, you want him to watch you. You get a kick out of knowing that he can't keep his hands off of you, even during the brief period where you're indecent while you're changing. Did something happen? Did someone say something to you? He'll kill them.

He'll comply with your wishes, this time, but this little mystery of yours will be cracked by the end of the day.

He drags himself towards you and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "You okay?" He asks, watching you closely.

"Yeah, i'm okay," you respond, smiling at him.

"Okay," he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I'll be in the living room. Call me back in so I can help you tie your dress." You nod and he releases you before he climbs off the bed. You quickly pull off your shirt and kick off your shorts and when he's at the door, you call for him.

"Wait, Toji!"

He turns around and catches your semi-nude body. "Shit, sorry, doll," he says, turning to face the door.

"Toji, look," you say, your voice going sultry.

"You told me not to. So, can I look at you or not?" He asks, still facing the door.

"Just look, Toji. I'm waiting for you to look, already, so I can get dressed."

He turns around, and immediately takes in the sight of your boobs. "Damn-"

"Why are you looking?!" You ask, stifling your laughter when his shoulders jump.

"Fucking hell," he says, grabbing the doorknob and pulling the door shut on his way out. The second he's gone, you're laughing so hard that you wheeze, but you chase after him. You see him on the couch, the most subtle pout on his face.

"Toji~" you call.

"Nah, I don't wanna get yelled at again."

You giggle as you approach him on the couch, plopping yourself onto his lap and smiling innocently at him. "Look," you chirp, taking a deep breath, puffing out your chest before letting the breath out, to lure his attention to the area.

You certainly managed to grab his attention with the gesture. He sighs, choosing to let your silly act slide, but only because you came with a peace offering.

"Fine," he grumbles. He encircles his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, before he buries his face right into your chest.

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traveler-at-heart · 1 month ago

Text

Stuck Together - Part 4

Summary: After Westview, Wanda and her children go into hiding. She's not happy with the person in charge of protecting them.

Wanda Maximoff x F! Super Soldier R

“Glad to see you’re getting along” Maria says with a smirk.

“Don’t” you warn her.

The timing couldn’t be worse.

Honestly, the last thing you expected was to end up kissing Wanda in the middle of nowhere. And now that Maria interrupted, you know it’s bound to get awkward.

Sure enough, Wanda is avoiding your eyes.

“Can we talk inside?” Hill says and you turn to look at the Sokovian, allowing her to make the call. She nods, turning to open the door.

“Have you been compromised?” Maria asks in a low voice.

“Huh?” you play dumb.

“You know what I mean. If you can’t be objective…”

“Stop. It was nothing”

“Mhm” she nods, the way Fury would. She truly is his right hand.

Wanda comes back from the bedroom, closing the door. You pull out a chair for her, and lean against the small kitchen counter, waiting for Maria to talk.

“We were worried. You moved houses”

“Position was compromised”

“By?”

“Agatha Harkness” Wanda answers. You don’t know how they know each other, what was she doing after them, but considering she almost killed you, knowing the rest of the story isn’t at the top of your list.

She’s gone, and that’s enough.

“I see” Maria looks between the two of you. “Anything else?”

“Such as?”

“Anything out of the ordinary”

“Nothing I can think of” you say, but Maria is looking intently at Wanda. “Look, if you wanna know something specific, just say it. I can’t protect them from stuff I don’t know about”

“I take she doesn’t know what happened, then” Maria turns to Wanda, and the way she’s staring at her annoys you. You remember how she mentioned it was classified, which means she was hoping Wanda would tell you everything.

Perhaps even more information than what was found on a file. The fact is, you’re starting to feel used, and nothing annoys you more than being used.

“The short story is…” Wanda’s voice trembles, her accent rolling out like it always does when she gets nervous or pissed off. “I lost control and created a weird… I don’t know, reality. Some people got trapped in it as well”

“A whole town” Maria interjects.

“Well, I didn’t know I could do that. Agatha was also manipulating a lot of the things inside the hex” Wanda defends herself.

You push yourself off the kitchen counter, kneeling next to Wanda.

“Did you kill anyone?”

“No”

“Did you do any of it on purpose?”

“No, I didn’t… I was so upset”

You can guess where this is going. Wanda was gone with the snap, but Vision was killed before that. So she was thrown back into reality, without warning, without a second to mourn.

The way Yelena was.

“What did you do to upset her?” you turn to Maria.

“Me? Nothing”

“Not you, specifically. The government”

“They didn’t let me see him” Wanda says in a small voice and it is only now that you remember how young she actually is. “He didn’t even get a proper burial. He saved the world once, you know?”

To be honest, you were never a big fan of Vision. Maybe it was the fact you were born in the 1920s and some technology just rubbed you the wrong way. But he was always one to fight alongside you.

“See? I knew you did something”

“Ok, we’re getting a little off topic now” the agent crosses her arms.

Maria was definitely hoping you’d take her side. It’s interesting, how five years of being gone can throw people off their game so easily. They’re missing so much information, and so much context that there are blind spots everywhere.

“What’s the topic, then?” you ask, standing up and staying by Wanda’s side.

“Hayward is still on the run. We worry he might try to find you. He knows about this safe house and it isn’t that far from Westview, so…”

“We’ll move. I know a place that’s not on his radar”

“The android…”

“Vision?” you say, confused.

“No. There was… another one. Hayward built him. Used my magic to make him sentient” Wanda says, looking at her hands.

“There’s a possibility that he comes back. And we don’t know if it’s friendly or not. Maybe Barton could help”

“I’m not on speaking terms with Barton” you cut her off. “If he’s willing to help, then he can take care of them while I go find Hayward”

“We’d rather you didn’t”

“Afraid I’m going to kill him?” you say with a smile.

“Well, yes”

“Yeah, he deserves it” you hold Maria’s stare. Yet another thing she doesn’t know about.

“That’s besides the point. FBI wants him locked up. If you kill him…”

“If they find out I killed him”

Like you haven’t done countless hits on behalf of the government, assassinations that were staged to look like perfect accidents. What’s one more? And against someone who actually deserves it.

“I don’t like where this is going” Wanda interrupts, looking up at you. You can see she’s shaken up, and that shuts you up real quick. “We’d rather stay with Y/N”

“Sleep on it” you say. “Barton knows you, he’s got kids that could play with yours. It may be safer to stay with them”

Once again, Wanda stares at you, but you look away. Why would it be so hard for you to just drop her off at Barton’s and call it a day? Make it someone else’s problem.

But it’s not something you want to drop. If you can help, you’ll do it.

“Sleep on it�� you ask again, smiling. Wanda nods, standing up and Maria gets up. “Come on, Hill”

“You sure you’re not compromised? One pout and you were questioning your choices” she says on the way out.

“I’m sure”

“I told Fury, this could go wrong. You always had a soft spot for a beautiful woman with a sad story” she tries to joke, but you don’t laugh.

She's not exactly wrong.

In spite of everything, you trust Maria and Fury to do the right thing, though their methods can be questionable. You promise to be in contact as soon as you find a safe spot, and watch as she climbs in her motorcycle and drives away.

To your surprise, Wanda’s back in the kitchen, chewing on her thumb.

“You should get some rest”

“I don’t need to sleep on it. It would be better… I want us to stay with you. I’d feel safer”

“Ok” you nod, hiding your hands in the pockets of your jeans. You’re about to bring up the kiss when Wanda walks out of the room, wishing you goodnight.

It’s probably for the best.

—

The forest looks beautiful at break of dawn. The cool, clear night is followed by a misty morning, the first rays of sun trying to break through the heavy fog.

You didn’t sleep at all. The mention of Hayward left you restless. You know him and what he’s capable of doing. If he’s really after Wanda, better to not leave anything to luck. He won’t hurt her or her children. Not on your watch.

The bedroom is quiet, both kids glued to Wanda’s side. You kneel, admiring her sleeping figure for a moment. A strand of auburn hair covers her eyes, and you can’t resist the urge to push it back.

“Wanda” you say, hoping she won’t get scared. You almost want to laugh at the groan she lets out. “We have to move. Come on”

“Five more minutes”

“You can sleep in the car” you promise. Once she opens her eyes, Wanda looks around the room, rubbing the sleep off of them. Then, she focuses back on you, smiling.

“Hey”

“Hi, witchy”

“Don’t call me that”

You laugh at her readiness to fight, even when she just woke up. The kids stir in their sleep, and you stand up, carrying them all the way to the car, giving Wanda a chance to get cleaned up and changed.

She leaves the cabin a few minutes later, looking back.

“Food? Money?”

“I packed everything, don’t worry” you reassure her. You walk around the car to open the passenger door for her, and she can’t hide her smile when she walks past you, lingering a bit to stay close to you. You’re surprised to notice she falls asleep as soon as you start the car.

You drive for an hour, looking around for any cars following you. The road is empty, though. Still, you don’t relax until you choose a little battered road, the car swaying with each bump.

By the time you park close to a cliff, Wanda and the kids are awake.

“Where are we?” Tommy asks, and you smile at him.

“On an adventure” you wink. Opening the trunk of the car, you pull out four backpacks. They’re full of provisions, money, and in your case, weapons.

Each one takes their own bag, their plushie serving as an ID. Wanda laughs softly as she looks at the big purple axolotl, remembering how you insisted on getting it for her.

“Can we eat now?” Billy asks.

“Depends, do you get dizzy when you’re flying?”

“I’ve never flown before”

“I’d rather we save the trouble of throwing up in the small plane” you turn to Wanda. “But you decide”

“Have a small snack, kids”

You nod, pointing at the direction you have to take. It will only be five minutes until they find the aircraft. As they walk away, you turn to the car, pushing it over the cliff. It rolls down easily, and crashes against the bottom a minute later. It’s best to cover your tracks.

The kids stare in awe at the small plane, while you look for the keys under one of the wings. After opening the door, you stand by it, helping them up and waiting for Wanda to hoist her up by her waist.

“Can you give us a little push?” you ask, referring to her magic. She nods, tendrils of red extending outside and moving the aircraft forward.

“You sure this thing will hold?” she asks and you nod, smiling at her.

“It’s just a short ride”

45 minutes at best, and you enjoy every second of it. It was one of your favorite things during missions and the team always knew you’d fly anywhere when the Quinjet was involved. Not only did you have a natural talent, but the feeling of being above everything, crossing the sky; that was very liberating for you.

It’s the perfect time to enjoy the view, too. The sun isn’t too high, and the mist is still lifting from the ground. You begin to let go of the tension of the past few days, recognising the path that will take you back to a safe space.

“Everything ok?” you turn to look at Billy and Tommy, and they nod, looking excitedly out the window, pointing at the mountains and the water of the river that glisten with the sunrays.

“You might wanna go back with them. It’s not gonna be the best landing” you warn Wanda and she goes to the backseat, casually drapping her hands around their shoulders. She wants to hold them, without raising any alarm bells about her sudden proximity.

Truth be told, even if you are a little rusty, you touch ground almost perfectly, smiling at them when the dust settles.

“It’s going to be a bit of a walk from here, but we can take a break by the river and eat something” you say, the kids jumping out of the plane and going straight to running around the trees. “Need any help?”

“Yes, please” Wanda says, and you hold your hand out. Once she takes it, you pull her over your shoulder, making her yelp.

“Ass” she mutters when you put her down.

Except there’s no annoyance in her tone, not this time. You smile back, leading her around the path to a small clear. You hand over sandwiches and some chips, while Wanda’s backpack has water and juice boxes for the kids. For your part, you take out a flask, enjoying the taste of scotch.

“Must you really?” Wanda says and you shrug your shoulders.

When the kids are done, they approach the edge of the lake, throwing rocks and playing with the water. You are leaning back on a log, watching them with a relaxed expression on your face. Between the warmth of the sun, the sound of the water running down the mountains and the fact you didn’t get any sleep, you’re dozzing off in the middle of the mountain. And then Wanda breaks the silence.

“Why aren’t you speaking to Clint?”

“He was one of the idiots that convinced Natasha to go on that god damn mission” after a beat you add. “If Stark wasn’t dead I’d kill him myself. Rogers’ too old now. That would be a bit of a dick move”

“Were you blipped as well?”

“Nope. After you escaped from the Raft I was captured and taken to a secret facility. They thought I was their best bet to get to you so they tried to brainwash me. Didn’t work. By the time they figured it out, they stuffed me in a cryo chamber. Rhodes found me by chance two years ago”

“So you did see Natasha. Before…”

“I was screwed up beyond repair. Angry at everyone. And she was ridden with guilt over failing the world. But yeah, on top of being pissed at everyone, I’m pissed at myself for not stopping her. Then she’d still be alive”

But I’d be gone. And I wouldn’t have Tommy and Billy.

Of course. You’d choose Natasha over Wanda. Was that even a question? And how stupid of her to think she could have a chance.

But when Wanda looks at you, you’re just staring straight ahead, not bothering to apologize or correct yourself.

You said it loud and clear, you’d be happier if Natasha didn’t bring her back. She misses your shocked expression when she stands up, walking to the kids and telling them to get ready for the rest of the road.

“Which way?” she says, ready to lead them. You point at the river. You have to follow it all the way down to where it turns into a lake, and then you’ll be closer to your destination.

Wanda nods and turns away from you, making sure her kids are right behind her.

You try to catch up, make small talk. But you kinda get the hint when she pushes a branch out of her way, only to drop it right into your face a second later.

So, she’s back to hating you.

The steep terrain gives way to more gentle slopes, the valley broadening as you make your way down. In spite of Wanda’s renewed dislike for you, you try to enjoy the view. It’s been a while since you’ve taken this road.

“Are we almost there?” Billy says, getting exhausted.

“Yeah. Just 30 more minutes or so. Come on, climb on my back” you offer, and he’s happy to take you up on it. Tommy seems to be doing fine, running around with abandonment and testing the limits of his speed.

True to your word, a half an hour later you stop at the floodplain.

“What now? Are we supposed to keep walking forever? Is that your great plan?” Wanda says, arms on her hips.

“We’ll cross the river and then we’ll be almost there” you answer, trying to keep your cool.

Even if she’s being unreasonable, you really don’t want to go back to being at each other’s throats.

“How are we even supposed…?”

“Jesus, don’t you have magic, Maximoff?” you finally snap.

“You’re right. Come, kids”

Sure enough, it takes a small amount of her power to help them cross, and she smiles as you stay on the other side, rolling your eyes. The current is a bit strong, but not enough to drag you. Water is freezing cold, and you try not to show how uncomfortable you feel when it gets to your knees.

Five minutes later, you’re on the other side, avoiding Wanda’s stare.

Maybe this is a really bad idea, but it’s too late to back down now.

You pull a small boat from a hiding place, gesturing for them to get inside before you push it in the water.

“We’ve never been on a boat before” Tommy says, excited at the idea of being surrounded by water. You smile at him, enjoying how the current is taking you back home, the wind steady and soft as you steer the boat through the path you know too well.

You prefer to fly, but sailing is a close second and you’ve managed to do both in one day. That’s a win in your book, no matter how bitchy Wanda gets.

A spalsh of water that goes straight to your face lets you know she heard that.

Idiot.

It takes you by surprise. Clear as day, her voice in your head.

You turn around, considering if you should throw her overboard. With a sigh, you decide it would be too much trouble to take care of the boys alone.

“Home, sweet home” you say as you finally approach the small wooden pier, smiling at the familiar sight of the hill that leads you to a place you love.

“Where are we?” Billy says, following you out of the boat. Tommy watches as you tie the rope to keep it there, the small movement making it hard for Wanda to stand up and jump out.

Even if it would be really funny to see her fall, you decide to be the bigger person, reaching for her and carrying her out of the boat.

“I am doing fine”

“Sure, princess”

“Let go of me”

Once again, she moves the conversation to your mind.

Savage.

What does it take to shut that mouth of yours?, you think.

And then, unexpectedly, your mind goes to the filthiest place it can think of. The image of Wanda, on her knees, her mouth open as you sink your strap deep in her throat.

“Out of my head” you yell when Wanda gasps.

“I hate you” Wanda mutters, trying to free herself from your grip, hoping you won’t notice how much she’s blushing right now.

The sudden movement makes the boat rock back and forth, and before you can react, you’re both falling into the water.

“See what you did!”

“I was trying to help, you pushed me!”

“Shut up or I’m drowning you, Y/N” Wanda says, swimming to the shore.

You stay back, sinking underwater and letting out a scream.

Wanda saw that.

Fucking god damn it.

—

As punishment, you take the coldest shower, banging your head against the bathroom tiles over and over again.

Where the fuck did that come from?

You know what, you don’t even want to know. Doesn’t matter. It’s been a while for you, you live alone… it doesn’t mean anything.

Nothing at all.

Whatever.

As you step out of your bathroom, and change into some comfortable clothes -and God, how good it feels to have your own stuff again, you look around the room. It feels as if it’s been longer, instead of a couple of days. But also, it’s been a while since you were on a mission.

If you could even call it that.

By the time you walk out of your bedroom and down the stairs, you catch sight of Wanda, examining the pictures on the wall.

Most of them are with Natasha, or other Avengers. She sees herself in one of them, and she remembers that mission. How Natasha almost died, and you practically ripped in half the man that tried to shoot her.

“Fun times” you comment, eyes landing on that same picture. Of course you remember. “Had a big argument that night, told Natasha it always felt like she was going out of her way to get herself killed”

“Weren’t we all? Taking too many risks. As if they had to prove something to the world” Wanda sighs.

“The world doesn’t give a shit about us, so I don’t see why…”

“I’m sorry” Wanda says suddenly, turning to look at you. “For your loss. I never got around… I never told you”

“I’m sorry for your loss too” you smile softly, looking at the rest of the pictures, avoiding her eyes. “They should have let you see him. At the very least”

“He doesn’t even have a grave”

“Hers is empty” you say, swallowing.

The only time you spoke to Clint, was to get him to tell you everything. How it happened. You punched him square in the face, called him a fucking coward and left.

That was that.

“Thought I saw some movement” a man says, knocking on the door.

Wanda jumps, but you place your hand in her waist, easing her nerves.

“Hey, Sykes. I was back sooner than I expected. How’d she do?”

“Let me feed her, that’s about it. She’s a stubborn one”

“Yeah, I have my share of those” you comment, sneaking a glance at Wanda. “Wanda, this is Sykes, my neighbor”

“Neighbor? I didn’t see another property in miles” Wanda comments, accepting his hand.

“Yeah, that’s right. Y/N here has a big land. Lets us use it for some crops, though. Least I can do is look after the horse and the pup when she’s gone. Speaking of which” he turns, whistling.

A black and white dog comes sprinting through the door, straight to your arms.

“Hey, monster!”

“Puppy!” Tommy and Billy come back that very moment, and Riley is all too happy to play around them.

“See ya around, have a good one” Sykes says goodbye and you wave your hand, sighing happily.

“Wanna take a tour of the place? We can see the ducks by the pond”

Billy and Tommy cheer, and you turn to look at Wanda. She shakes her head no, claiming the journey was a little too exhuasting for her.

You nod, telling her to make herself at home, taking the kids around the very big farm.

Wanda’s tired, but also a bit restless. She never imagined you’d be living in a place like this. The house seems very old, but not worned down; the slightly different color of the painting told the story of recent renovations. Judging by the tools and materials in the shed, it was all done by you.

There’s a large dining room, a living room and in the far corner of the first floor, a study. Wanda walks in, noticing that the walls are covered in books, some paintings and old pictures scattered around.

She opens a picture book, taken aback by the sight of you, at least fifty years ago. She notices how time passes for the people around you, wrinkles and grey hair appearing more frequently. But you’re the same.

Was this your family home? And if so, what happened to the other people?

She must have spent more time than she thought inside the study, because you come back a while later, calling for her.

“Hey” you say, surprised to see her leaving the study.

“I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry”

“No, that’s fine. I’m just going to the grocery store, there’s nothing here. Need anything?”

“The usual, to cook us something”

“I was thinking I could prepare dinner tonight. If that’s fine by you” you say with a small smile.

“Right, you need to make it to taste it”

“Just wanted to do something nice” you say.

Wanda nods, averting your gaze. Of course. She doesn’t mean to be rude, but you make it so hard to keep her distance.

One minute you’re offering to make dinner, the next you’re implying that you wish she was still gone.

You take her silence as your cue to leave, telling the kids to stay back with their mother.

“Riley will give you a run for your money, kids. I can never get her tired” you say, offering your dog’s favorite ball.

As you pull out of the driveway, you find that the sight of the two kids playing, while Wanda sits on the porch steps, laughing and calling out for them… it’s not unpleasant.

You told yourself you were done. Alone was better, alone meant no risks.

And now, you wonder.

Did you really mean it?

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n

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thehoneybeestings · 5 days ago

Text

𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐨 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬?‧₊˚──

(ft. sevika, vi, ambessa, grayson, ellie williams, abby anderson, kassandra of sparta)

Content/Warnings: x reader, no pronouns used but reader is described as wearing a dress and jewelry in ambessa's, some suggestive content for ellie's and kassandra's, mentions of smoking weed for ellie's)

A/N: this will probably flop but as i was driving home with my passenger princess butch beside me, i started thinking about all of my fave characters and what their driving preferences would be... a very important subject to ponder obviously. i'm working super hard to get part two of dancer!vi x dancer!reader and sweet as honey out, but i needed a little break so this brain dump ensued and i thought i'd share with the class. please comment your contributions to my theories, or you fail the socratic seminar! (kidding we don't do those i love you my fellow socially anxious babies)

anyway, here we go, starting off with my arcane sexies:

──˚₊𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚

୨ৎ okay so this may be controversial... but 𝐲𝐞𝐬, i think she is a passenger princess- BUT, only when she's with you. you're the only person she trusts with her life, so you're the only person she lets drive her, but for the longest time, you had no idea she preferred being in the passenger seat. she's a very chivalrous partner, so you got used to her volunteering to drive and assumed it was because she liked being the one driving; until, one day, she slipped up and let out a sigh when you mentioned an errand the two of you needed to run. it had already been a long day at work, friday evening traffic had been terrible on the way home, and frankly, she didn't want to be behind the wheel at all before her commute to work on monday. you ask her what the fuss is about, and she (very bashfully) admits that she actually hates driving. the poor baby is terrified you'll think she's a bad butch, but you assure her that you have no problem at all being her chauffer. she does enough for everyone around her as it is <3 (she still DD's tho that's a non-negotiable)

──˚₊𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐭

୨ৎ 𝐲𝐞𝐬, she is a passenger princess. no, this was not of her own volition, nor did she get a say. not after she rolled her window down at a red light to tell the jackass who cut her off alllll about himself. her first few trips in the passenger seat are spent with crossed arms and a pout (and when she was particularly annoyed, she'd do that thing where she turned her entire body away from you and faced the window so you knew just how begrudgingly she'd taken the spot), but nowadays, she's fully embraced her role as passenger princess. she likes being on aux, or reaching over to play with your hair- and oh, she takes the best naps in the car. just sleepily reaches over for your arm, wraps both of her own around it like you're a teddy bear (for all intents and purposes, you are vi's teddy bear) and conks the fuck out. it's safe to say she's come to appreciate what the passenger seat has to offer, and every once in a while, you'll even let her flip off the shitty driver that nearly hit you while they were merging because that's love

──˚₊𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚

୨ৎ 𝐲𝐞𝐬, ambessa is a passenger princess, but she won't let you touch the wheel either. instead, she hires a chauffeur, and the two of you sit in the back of the BMW together. she always has a possessive hand on your thigh and a proud grin on her face, and when you ask her what she's smiling at, she'll just say you look pretty in that dress you picked out on your trip to milan; that those diamonds look so much better around your neck than they did on the display in new york; that luxury suits you well. her secret, though, is that driving makes her a nervous wreck. she'd hired a chauffeur long before she met you, because she truly cannot stand driving. it's completely overwhelming, but again, ambessa would never admit this; would never admit a weakness. not that it concerns you, anyway. the only thing you should be concerning yourself with is sitting in the back of the BMW and looking pretty like you always do.

──˚₊𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧

୨ৎ grayson lovesss driving you around, so its safe to say that 𝐧𝐨, she would rather you take on the role of passenger princess in your duo. she loves the way the sun peeks in through the window and catches your eyes during golden hour joyrides, the way that the cabin of her car smells like your perfume as you're on your way to dinner in the city, the way you giggle as you stick your hands out of the sunroof during late-night drives. she loves the mundane, too; opening and closing your door for you every single time you enter or exit the car, dropping you off and picking you up from work, rolling up to a drive-through and resting her hand on the small of your back with a warm smile as you lean over and order your favorite milkshake. you are grayson's princess, through and through, spoiled rotten. essentially, whenever there's a chance for her to keep you from lifting a finger, she's taking it.

now for my TLOU II ladies...

──˚₊𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬

୨ৎ hell 𝐧𝐨, she all but gets off on you being in the passenger seat of her truck! and i could leave it at that! but of course i'll elaborate. on a real note, ellie does prefer to drive because she prefers to be one who's focused and in control on the road. if you insist, she'll let you drive, but it has to be in your car. no one drives ellie's truck but ellie. and yes, you tease her about it all of the time, but she lets you, because there's nothing like picking you up from work and smoking you out, watching with an amused smile as you get all loose and giggly in the passenger seat. and if you do the thing where you look up at her through heavy eyes, batting your lashes and asking for another hit in that voice you know makes her melt, she'll just hand the the joint over with a smirk pulling at her lips, knowing damn well her passenger princess is about to find herself laid out in the backseat.

──˚₊𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

୨ৎ so here's the thing: abby is suchhhh a backseat driver. it's one of the only things you fight about, and when you do, it gets ugly, because you know abby and that damn ego. she thinks she's right about everything. but it isn't one of these fights that lands her in the driver's seat for good; instead, it's the third missed turn in a row on a road trip back to your hometown. she asks you to pull into a gas station, and you assume it's so that she can figure out where the fuck you guys are and reroute the GPS, but then she reaches over to place her hand on your cheek and asks you- in that soft voice she only uses when she's speaking to you- to let her take over. and you realize, she was never trying to give you a hard time for your terrible sense of direction. she just wants to take care of her baby. so, you and abby decide that, 𝐧𝐨, she is not a passenger princess. plus, you've gotta, admit; she looks damn good with one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh.

and last, but certainly not least, my favorite womanizer on the list:

──˚₊𝐊𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚 (𝐀𝐂: 𝐎𝐝𝐲𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐲)

୨ৎ gonna try not to make this super thirsty or super long but gods help me she makes it hard. anyway. not sure why, but i headcanon modern!kass as being kind of a car girl. not in an obnoxious douchey way, though. she just likes nice cars. she's got a fancy sports car, manual like she's used to driving back home in greece, still spotless inside and out despite her having had it for years. so, needless to say: 𝐧𝐨, kassandra is not a passenger princess. not with a car that sexy. not when it drives that nice. sexy sports car aside, kass is a gentlewoman, so she prefers to drive you around regardless. the one time you convinced her to let you take the wheel was toward the beginning of your relationship; she'd just gotten back from her annual trip to kefalonia, and you offered to drive her home from the airport, expecting that she'd curl up in the passenger seat and get some much-needed rest. instead- despite the near 24 hours of traveling she'd just endured- she couldn't keep her damn heart-eyes off of you. eventually, she couldn't keep her hands off of you, so she booked a room in a nice hotel for the night. just to break up the trip home. no other reason. (okay that's a lie but can u blame her u hadn't seen each other in a month!) you don't get to drive her back home from the airport again, though, because it only took that one month away from you for her to decide she wouldn't be going back to greece without you.

thank you all for being passenger princesses in the ride that was my 2 am thoughts.

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

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ratherchili · 3 months ago

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𖹭 cw: angst, briefly explicit, cheating implied, mdni

Kento Nanami is a good husband. You know, because he was good to you once, years ago. The memories come flooding back when you first lay eyes on him again in Tokyo. It seems like fate when he takes a job in the office you work in. Did he remember? Was it on purpose?

The ring on his finger answers your question. Of course he's married. What did you expect after all this time? It doesn't stop the flood of memories, though. He walks by your desk, and the scent of his cologne transports you back to when he wrapped you in his arms after a mission. His strong body closed around yours like a vice, like he could never let you go.

Your eyes meet from across the room and the image of him buried between your legs, looking up at you through blonde lashes, drinking in every little sound and expression you make for him. You shiver. Does he remember? Does he remember lying next to you, pretending to ignore you for his book while you whined and pawed at him? You remember. You remember the way he smiled and pulled you on top of him, the hardness of him pressed into your belly.

If he remembers, he doesn't show it. Aside from pressing your small hand into his large one when he meets you again, your interactions are minimal. Aside from saying that he's glad to see you well, your conversations are professional. A fresh ache settles into your heart. You never wanted things to end the way they did. After one too many sleepless nights wondering if he'd make it home at all, you'd hoped he'd follow you when you took the finance job in Tokyo. It hurt when he didn't, but not as much as losing him forever might have.

You try to be happy for him when his pretty little wife brings his forgotten lunch to the office. The way he smiles at her shouldn't make your guts churn with jealousy the way it does, but you're only human. She stops by more and more often. Everybody whispers about how she eyes up the dark-haired guy from security.

Still, the first time you see Nanami without his ring, you think it must be a fluke. Maybe he was running late, left it on the sink at home. But his finger is bare the next day, and the one after that. His chin is stubbled and his eyes are drawn and tired. "Are you okay?" You ask, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. He says he's fine and thanks you. "I'm here if you need me," you offer, and he turns to look at you. When your eyes meet, you say. "I miss you." You don't mean to say it. It just slips out.

"I-" he begins. He shakes his head. Sighs. Looks away. "I can't."

Kento Nanami is a good husband. Just not yours. He turns you down because he's decent. But maybe not because it's what he truly wants.

The next day, the ring is back on his finger. Soon, the pretty little wife is stopping by, too often, with coffee or lunch. He even brings her to the annual company party. She looks devastating in red. Red like the wine you realize you're probably having too much of.

She doesn't even attempt to be discreet when she slips out of a side door with that dark-haired guy from security. You see it. Everyone does, even Nanami, who is frowning over the tops of the heads of the crowd on the dance floor. You are moving toward him, hand reaching out for him when he locks eyes with you. Then you are pulled against his chest again, and his nose is in your hair, and he's saying, "I missed you, too." The music is slow, the world narrowed to the lack of space between you. Time seems to stop.

It is nice, while it lasts, but then he says her name and he's gone. You're alone with the pulse of the music and the whisper of the crowd like a collection of cruel ghosts.

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami smut #nanami angst #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut

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puprdou · 4 days ago

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give me the twst hcs, I might be getting into tr but you're not escaping twst while you're with me!! idk it can be malleus, leona, riddle, the tweels, idk, anyone will do 😒😒

m finally getting to this request wifey!!!! i’ll do the characters you listed then~ seriously i have not been in a writing mood big sighs...... m getting back into writing though i think^^ m just gonna do sfw ones cus you didn’t specify if you wanted smutty hcs or just sfw ones!!

imagine malleus draconia who just loves it when you touch his horns. he never lets anyone play with them, ever touch them, but when you do it, it feels utterly heavenly. he melts in your hands when your nimble fingers stroke the ridges, thumb pressing down on his forehead scales.

imagine malleus draconia who, when you wanted to paint his nails for the first time shortly after dating, had to tell you that his nails are just naturally black thanks to his draconian genes. this, however, only fueled your desire to paint little designs on them, which he let you do, of course.

imagine malleus draconia who’ll act more like a kitten than an intimidating dragon when he’s with you. the way he nuzzles his cheek against you, nearly purring at your little pets and headpats is the most adorable thing ever.

imagine malleus draconia who’s incredibly awkward at first, never really knowing what to do or if it was okay to get close. but, after awhile of dating, he eventually got clingier. and when i say clingier, i mean he clings to you like glue 24/7.

imagine leona kingscholar who can’t sleep unless your in his arms. by this, i mean whenever your in class, he will throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and take you to his usual napping place in the garden so that he can sleep.

imagine leona kingscholar who gets grumpy whenever your laughing and smiling with the other boys at the school. he’ll growl at them, pouting and burying his face into your hair as his tail wrapped around your thigh, clinging to you. he’s a possessive little lion.

imagine leona kingscholar who loves it whenever you watch him train for spelldrive. he’ll make sure to show off and flex whilst training with ruggie and epel, just to hear your praise and recieve kisses afterwards for doing such a good job. does he do this on purpose only to act nonchalant afterwards? yes, yes he does.

imagine leona kingscholar who’ll buy you the prettiest clothes, and any kind of jewelry you could ever want. he especially loves buying you clothing styled from his hometown, as he personally thinks it looks beautiful of you. but, he’ll never match with you, no matter how much you beg, so it’s no worth asking.

imagine riddle rosehearts who loves when you feed her sweets made from trey. especially if the two of you are on a picnic on a no-school day, she’ll practically just wait as she sits so cutely on a picnic blanket, legs tucked under her for you to feed her.

imagine riddle rosehearts who sparkles so brightly whenever youre with her. it’s like she forgot all of her trauma, her entire past, whenever she looks into your eyes, shining with nothing but love for her. she feels safe when she’s with you.

imagine riddle rosehearts who always has to adjust your bow/tie before classes begin, and tidy up your uniform. sure, you had woken up late and were in a rush, but she forbid you to go to class looking like such a mess.

imagine riddle rosehearts who was unsure about recieving physical affection at first, since she had so little of it when she was young. she usually stiffened at the beginning of your reationship with physical affection, and she was quite stubborn in admitting she loves you.. but, deep down, she truly did, more than anything.

imagine floyd leech who gets pouty whenever your away, being forced to work at the lounge by azul instead of just being able to cuddle and suffocatingly cling to you for every second and every hour of the day. how can he possibly be without his shrimpy for so long?

imagine floyd leech who loves biting you. he says that its his way of showing his affection and his love for you, but in reality, you know its just because he loves seeing the marks he leaves all across your neck and your shoulders from his sharp teeth.

imagine floyd leech who pulls you into the water with him whenever he’s swimming, solely to see you soaked. he thinks you look like a wet cat, and he thinks it’s just adorable.

imagine floyd leech who loves sneaking up on you to scare you. he thinks its so funny, the way you jump and yell at him for scaring you, all flushed in the face and embarrassed all from a small ’boo!’

imagine jade leech who, for some reason, always has an eye on you. is it creepy? yes. does he care? no. you could just be in class, or maybe you could be in your dorm, or maybe at your clubroom, and he’ll just randomly appear behind you out of nowhere. it scares you each and every time, yet he finds it amusing.

imagine jade leech who, and don’t tell azul, but gives you anything you wish from the lounge for completely free. you can stay there as long as you want, order anything you need, and he won’t even charge you a dime.

imagine jade leech who loves boasting to you about the mushrooms he found on his last hike up the mountains. it always surprising you how flustered he gets whenever you actually know what he’s talking about, however. his cheeks get flushed and his eyes sparkle with excitement.

imagine jade leech who often will drag you alone with him into his room, solely to cuddle you and give you kisses. behind closed doors, he’s a lot more affectionate and baby-ish than he seems behind that scarily charismatic facade he puts up.

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wintergrofyuri · 3 months ago

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does anyone else think about this every day

LIKE. the way she words it. the way she stabs you, the way her hand is positioned. her expression. the desperation and determination. the way to get here, you have to stab yourself when spectre possesses you. the way this can end with Her stabbing You to take you back.

every princess is alone. lonely. separated, from others, from you, from herself. the long quiet is her only companion and she is pit against them. heavily discouraged from even Speaking to her. and if that Does happen, she Still tries so hard to reach out. she asks you politely. she is still angry, but she is willing to let the past be the past in favor of teamwork. companionship. someone to actually listen to her. and when it happens AGAIN, she STILL is willing to forgive you. for the same damn thing.

the tear between the shifting mound and the long quiet was traumatic for both of them. they may not remember, but they still feel that emptiness. they are, subconsciously or not, trying so hard to return to each other. but whatever they try it still never lasts. its tragic. she is ripped away from you, you are ripped away from her. and it was intentional!!! the tear is jagged and messy and hurtful On Purpose. not maliciously (i dont think) but still. the narrator Did Not Care how traumatic this would be for the entities he was creating.

its just. ugh. the loneliness and the desperation and the little moments of respite and the way the shifting mound so desperately tries to convince you to stay with her, be with her, leave with her. together. the way she says her heart has ached for this moment. they can never truly go back to what they once were. and it hurts them both. but they can still stay close to each other in different ways. and she tries so hard to convince you.

What once was one, then was two, and then was one again. kill me oh my GOD

#slay the princess #NOBODY GETS IT #THEYRE NOT JUST SOULMATES THEY USED TO BE ONE #THEY ARE LITERALLY THE SAME SOUL #NOT narrator bashing btw #the narrator is a deeply flawed guy but i dont think it was like #intentional? like it WAS but not In That Way ykno #he didnt mean it to be this traumatic thing #he just. was a mortal man not thinking about his actions affecting something as Huge as gods #if that makes sense #anyways princess and the dragon is the most romantic chapter

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hisfavegirl · 5 months ago

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Bound By Duty - Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Summary : Your marriage to Aemond was not something you could be proud of, his absence for three years made you seek warmth in the arms of others.

Aemond Masterlist.

It had been more than three years since your marriage to Aemond, and still, there was no warmth, no connection between you. The night of your wedding had passed in an awkward silence, with Aemond choosing to leave for the Silk Street rather than consummate his marriage with you. His disregard for you, for the vows taken between you, cut deeper with each passing day.

That night, the silence in your chambers felt suffocating. The heavy scent of anticipation and expectations seemed to linger in the air, a reminder of all that should have been, but never was. The moment you had dreaded had arrived, and the maid, unaware of the true state of your marriage, stood at your door, asking for the sheets that would mark the "proof" of your purity, the blood that was supposed to signify your innocence.

A bitter smile curled on your lips as you turned away, your mind swirling with thoughts of the life you had been thrust into-one of duty, tradition, and unfulfilled desires. You glanced at the sharp object on the vanity, a knife that had been used for no more than decorative purposes until now. A surge of frustration bubbled within you, the years of neglect, of being ignored, coming to a head in this one moment.

Without hesitation, you took the knife, the cold steel meeting your skin as you pressed the edge against your ankle, wincing as the sharpness cut through the flesh. Blood began to pool, slowly dripping down your leg, marking the ritual that was expected of you. You allowed it to flow, enough to satisfy the demands of tradition, enough to ensure the servants would leave you in peace.

As the blood dripped, your heart ached with a mixture of anger, disappointment, and a sense of betrayal. Aemond had never seen you, never sought to truly know you. And in that moment, it became clearer than ever that you were not truly his wife, not in the way that mattered. You were merely a part of a ritual, a symbol of something that had been hollowed out long ago.

You wiped away a tear, the sting of it mingling with the pain in your ankle, and you called for the maid, handing her the stained sheets as though nothing were wrong. But deep inside, everything was broken.

The morning light filtered through the curtains as you prepared for the day ahead. The events of the previous night had left a bitter taste in your mouth, but you had learned to mask it. As you moved about your room, lost in your thoughts, the sudden sound of your door creaking open made you pause.

There, standing in the doorway, was your mother-in-law, Queen Alicent. Her presence was commanding, her posture regal as ever. Her eyes, however, betrayed nothing—just a cool, assessing gaze. You straightened instinctively, unsure of what to expect.

“You’ve finally done it,” she said, her voice calm, yet laced with an undertone you couldn’t quite place. “You’ve done your duty as wife. I trust Aemond has now fulfilled his obligations to you as well.”

Her words hung in the air, sharp and accusing, though her tone remained composed. She did not mention the events directly, but her implication was clear. She had been waiting for this moment—waiting for the “blood” to be shed, the tradition to be fulfilled. Her expression was unreadable, but her gaze never wavered from you.

You felt a surge of frustration rise within you, but you kept your face neutral. Alicent was never one to openly show emotion, nor was she someone who sought sympathy. She expected perfection, obedience, and the fulfillment of duty, and nothing more.

“I did what was required of me,” you responded quietly, your voice steady despite the ache in your heart. “As was expected.”

Alicent’s lips twitched, her eyes narrowing slightly. She nodded, as if confirming something to herself. “Good,” she said. “It is important to remember your place in this family, in this kingdom. There are expectations that must be met. We are not free to do as we please.”

Her words stung more than they should have, as they cut through the facade of duty you had been forced to wear. She was reminding you that you were nothing more than a tool in a grand scheme, a pawn in the game of royal politics.

She took a small step forward, her eyes scanning you one last time, as if assessing how well you had played your part. Then, without another word, she turned and walked out of the room, her steps purposeful and final, leaving you alone with the weight of her words.

The door closed softly behind her, but the echo of her presence remained, a constant reminder of the role you were expected to play—one you were unsure if you could ever truly accept.

The hallways of the Red Keep echoed with the soft clatter of your shoes as you walked, flanked by your ladies-in-waiting. The steady rhythm of your steps felt almost mechanical, the monotony of the days settling over you like a heavy cloak. You had grown accustomed to the routine—each day unfolding in the same quiet way, filled with distance and silence.

You made your way toward the balcony, the familiar sight of it now nothing more than a backdrop to your thoughts. The air was cool as you stepped outside, the breeze carrying the scent of fresh stone and old history. The Red Keep stretched out before you, a vast and imposing presence. Your eyes instinctively moved to the training grounds below, where your husband, Aemond, was sparring with Ser Criston.

The scene was as it always was—Aemond, poised and focused, his sword flashing in the light as he moved with the fluidity of a practiced warrior. The sound of steel clashing against steel filled the air, a reminder of the world outside your marriage, a world where he was strong and admired.

But there was no connection between the two of you, no words exchanged. His eyes never wandered up to meet yours, even as you stood there, a silent observer. Your heart clenched, but you swallowed the feeling, reminding yourself that this was the life you had to accept. You watched him move, his every action an echo of the distance that had grown between you both since the night of your wedding.

You wanted to call out to him, to say something—anything—but the words caught in your throat. There was no point. He didn’t acknowledge you, and you had long since learned that your presence did little to change that. The training continued, and you remained there, watching him fight battles that were not yours, living a life of solitude that was now yours alone to bear.

The wind tugged at the fabric of your gown, but you remained rooted in place, your gaze unwavering from the man who was, technically, your husband—but who might as well have been a stranger to you.

The air felt different that day, charged with an electricity that you couldn’t ignore. As you stood at the balcony, watching Aemond practice below, your eyes met his unexpectedly. His sword halted mid-swing, and for the first time in ages, he seemed to truly notice your presence. The clashing of swords stopped abruptly, and your heart skipped a beat as he made his way toward you, his steps measured and deliberate.

Your ladies-in-waiting, sensing the sudden shift, whispered amongst themselves, unsure of what to do next. They glanced at you nervously, but you raised your hand in a silent command, gesturing for them to stay in their place. This was between you and Aemond. The rest of the world could wait.

When Aemond finally reached you, he stood directly in front of you, his presence overpowering. There was no warmth in his expression, no softening in his gaze—just the cold, calculating look he always wore. He looked down at you for a moment, as though studying you, before his voice, low and edged with frustration, filled the air.

“What you did with the blood on the sheets,” he began, his words cutting through the silence like a knife, “was foolish.”

His words stung, sharper than you had expected. You opened your mouth to respond, but he continued, not allowing you the chance to speak.

“Perhaps my motherw will be satisfied with that for now,” Aemond said, his tone softer now but still heavy with tension. “But trust me, she won’t leave it at that. She’ll want something more from us. And soon, you’ll have to give her the news she’s waiting for.”

A knot tightened in your stomach at his words. He wasn’t just referring to the sheets, the symbol of your marriage’s consummation, but the other expectation that had been weighing on you for months. The one that loomed over your every interaction. The news that had been growing inside you, unnoticed by most, but undeniably present.

“You mean…” Your voice faltered, the words barely escaping your lips. “You mean she’ll want to hear that I’m pregnant?”

Aemond’s gaze hardened, and he nodded once, sharply. “Exactly. And when she finds out, there will be no going back. You’ll have to give her what she expects, just as I will have to do the same.”

The tension in the air thickened, and the distance between the two of you felt both suffocating and vast. His words, though spoken with a sense of finality, only made the space between you wider, confirming what you had already known: that your marriage was about duty, expectations, and the burdens of a family that seemed to care little for what you truly felt.

As Aemond turned to leave, his words lingered in your mind like an uninvited shadow. There was no escaping the path that had been laid before you. You would have to walk it, whether you were ready or not.

After Aemond’s departure, the weight of his words lingered in the air, and a suffocating silence enveloped you. Without thinking, you turned away from the balcony and began walking quickly, your steps urgent, almost frantic. The call of your name from your ladies-in-waiting echoed in the hall, their voices rising with concern as they tried to catch up with you.

“Princess, please wait!” one of them called, but you didn’t slow your pace. You couldn’t bear the thought of remaining in that moment any longer, where everything felt like it was slipping through your fingers. The weight of Aemond’s words, the pressure from the queen, the expectations—it was all too much.

Your mind raced as you walked down the corridors, barely noticing the faces of those you passed. You didn’t want to hear their concerns, didn’t want to see the pity or the judgment in their eyes. The only thing that mattered right now was reaching your chambers, to retreat into the solitude that had become your refuge.

“Princess, please!” another maid pleaded, but you shook your head, ignoring them as you quickened your pace.

The doors to your room were just ahead, and the moment you reached them, you pushed them open, almost stumbling inside. You didn’t wait for the ladies-in-waiting to follow you, their voices growing faint behind you. You slammed the door shut, the sound reverberating in the quiet space of your chamber.

The walls seemed to close in on you as you stood there, heart racing, breath shallow. For a moment, you simply leaned against the door, trying to steady yourself. The room felt stifling, yet you couldn’t seem to move away from the door. Your thoughts swirled around you, a storm of frustration, fear, and anger. Aemond’s words, Alicent’s expectations, the looming pressure of what you were expected to become—it was all too much.

With a trembling hand, you pushed yourself away from the door and walked further into the room, your movements stiff and unsteady. You needed to be alone. You needed to think. But the weight of it all seemed unbearable, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to feel the full force of your emotions.

The hours passed in a blur as you sat in the stillness of your room, consumed by the weight of Aemond’s words. The sound of gentle knocks from the door reached you intermittently, but you chose to ignore them, your focus fixed inward, lost in the chaos of your thoughts. Each word he had spoken earlier echoed in your mind like a relentless whisper, growing louder with every passing minute.

“What you did… was foolish.”

The phrase kept circling around, digging deeper into your mind, burrowing itself beneath your skin. Was it really foolish? You had only done what was expected of you, what was demanded by the customs of the realm. Yet, Aemond’s words, cold and dismissive, made you question it all. Had you truly been foolish? Had everything you had done in this marriage been a mistake?

You closed your eyes, pressing your fingers to your temples as if trying to shut out the storm of thoughts. The more you tried to push them away, the stronger they became. The weight of your reality—the cold indifference of Aemond, the constant pressure of your family’s expectations, the looming question of what would come next—was overwhelming.

His words weren’t just about the blood on the sheets. They were a reminder of everything you had lost, everything you had sacrificed. He didn’t care. He never had, not truly. The distance between you had only grown since your wedding night, and his words this morning only confirmed it.

You heard another knock at the door, this one more insistent than the last. But you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. The thought of facing anyone, of answering their questions, felt like too much. There was nothing to say anymore, nothing that could change the truth of your situation.

You stood up from the chair, your legs shaky as you walked to the window. The view outside was the same as always—distant, impersonal. You could see the training grounds where Aemond had been earlier, the same place where he had, yet again, turned his attention away from you. It seemed so far away, and yet, everything in your life felt somehow tethered to it.

Your gaze lingered on the distant horizon, but even the view couldn’t offer you any comfort. Nothing could. Not now. Not after everything that had been said.

The knock on the door came again, but this time it was different—more deliberate, more persistent. Before you could even speak, the voice you heard was unmistakable: Alicent.

“Let me in, my dear,” she called softly from the other side of the door, her tone laced with authority yet something warmer, perhaps concern. “There is something important I need to discuss with you regarding the anniversary celebration for my marriage to the king.”

The words caught you off guard. You had been lost in the storm of your own thoughts, so consumed by everything Aemond had said and by the suffocating reality of your own marriage that the thought of engaging with anyone else seemed too much to bear. Yet, Alicent’s presence was unavoidable. She was here, and you knew there was no escaping it.

With a heavy sigh, you stood up from the chair and approached the door, your movements slow and deliberate, as if every step carried the weight of the world. When you opened it, you were met with the sight of your mother-in-law standing just beyond the threshold, her face a mask of calm and grace, though you could see the faintest hint of something else in her eyes—perhaps the knowledge of your distress, or the sharp awareness of what had transpired between you and Aemond.

“I didn’t expect you to be so upset,” Alicent said, her voice softer now as she took in your expression. “But we have matters to discuss.”

You stepped aside, allowing her entry, though part of you longed to shut the door and retreat further into the confines of your room. But you knew you had to face her, just as you had to face the expectations of your marriage.

As Alicent entered, her gaze swept over the room, briefly resting on you before turning to settle on the window, as though calculating the space, the atmosphere. There was an undeniable weight to her presence, a sharpness beneath the calm exterior.

“The king and I are hosting a celebration to mark the anniversary of our wedding in one weeks,” Alicent began, her voice steady but with a subtle undercurrent of something more—an unspoken expectation that you had grown all too familiar with. “You will be expected to attend, of course. It is important for us to show unity, to show strength as a family. And I need you to be prepared. There will be many eyes on us, as there always are. You must make sure you are ready for the role you are to play.”

Her words felt heavy, as if she was not just speaking of the celebration but of everything else that came with it—your marriage to Aemond, the expectations that you would meet them all, and the pressure to prove yourself worthy of the title you held.

You nodded quietly, but inside, your heart felt anything but ready. How could you? With everything that had happened between you and Aemond, and the strain of it all, how could you stand there and pretend everything was fine?

Alicent didn’t wait for an immediate response. She stepped closer to you, her gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “And you must remember,” she continued, her voice quieter now, “that there are things beyond the celebrations. Things you need to understand about your position here. I know you’re struggling, but you must remember what is at stake.”

Alicent’s voice softened even further as she took a step closer, her eyes now fixed on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Rhaenyra will be attending with Daemon and their children,” she said, her words deliberate, weighing every syllable. “It will be… difficult. You must understand, the tensions between our families are far from over. There will be eyes on all of us, and I need you to help me. I need you to help control Aemond, especially when Rhaenyra and her family arrive.”

The request hung in the air, a burden that felt even heavier than the weight of her earlier expectations. You couldn’t help but feel a surge of unease. Aemond, who had hardly acknowledged you, let alone shown any care for your presence, was suddenly the center of Alicent’s plans. She wanted you to influence him, to somehow keep him in check when his family arrived.

You opened your mouth to respond, but your thoughts tangled in your throat. What did she expect from you? How could you control Aemond, when he barely spoke to you, when the distance between the two of you had stretched so far that any attempt to approach him felt futile?

“I… I don’t understand,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why do you think I can control him? Aemond… he is distant. He doesn’t listen to me.”

Alicent studied you closely, as if gauging your every word, your every hesitation. Her eyes softened, but there was still that underlying strength in her gaze.

“You are his wife,” she said simply, though her voice carried a weight of expectation. “And though it may not seem like it, you have power. You hold more influence over him than you realize. Aemond is stubborn, but there are moments when he listens, moments when he cares about what you think, even if he doesn’t show it.”

You looked away, unsure if you believed her words. The idea that you could influence Aemond, especially after everything that had transpired, seemed impossible. But you also knew the reality that Alicent had set before you: this was not about your happiness or your peace. This was about the family’s reputation, about the facade they all maintained for the sake of power and stability.

“You must make sure he stays in check,” Alicent added, her tone now more urgent, as if she were trying to impress the importance of the task upon you. “When Rhaenyra arrives, there will be friction. You cannot let him escalate things. If he reacts to her or Daemon in any way… it could cause an uproar. We cannot afford that.”

The pressure of her words suffocated you. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep up the appearance of everything being fine, let alone managing Aemond, someone who seemed to care so little about the marriage they had forced upon you.

“I will do my best,” you said finally, though your heart wasn’t in it. You weren’t sure what you could do, but you knew there would be consequences if you didn’t comply. Aemond’s disregard for you, your marriage, and the family’s expectations weighed heavily on your shoulders. But perhaps, just perhaps, there was something you could do—if only to keep the peace, for now.

After your conversation with Alicent, a heavy weight settled in your chest. You had agreed to help, to try to control Aemond when Rhaenyra arrived, but deep down, the reality of your situation felt even more suffocating. The idea of influencing Aemond, of controlling a man who barely acknowledged you, seemed like an impossible task. Yet, it was the role you had been handed—whether you were ready for it or not.

With a deep breath, you made up your mind to take a walk. You needed to clear your head, to find a moment of peace amidst the chaos. Your feet guided you through the halls of the Red Keep, your mind racing with everything that had been said and unsaid. But there was one place you felt you had to go—your husband’s chambers.

You arrived at his door, the familiar chill running down your spine as you pushed it open, expecting to find him there, perhaps preparing for the evening or simply resting. But when you stepped inside, the room was empty. The bed was unmade, the fireplace long since extinguished, and there were no signs of Aemond anywhere.

A knot twisted in your stomach. He wasn’t here, and you immediately knew where he must be—at the Silk street, with that old whore, indulging in the pleasures he preferred over his marriage to you.

Your breath caught in your throat as anger bubbled beneath the surface. The hurt you had carried for so long now felt like a sharp, biting pain. He had chosen to spend his time there, with her, yet again, instead of even sparing you a glance. Your marriage, your efforts to build something—anything—seemed meaningless in the face of his neglect.

With a frustrated sigh, you turned away from his empty chambers, feeling both empty and full at the same time. You couldn’t stay here, dwelling in the agony of it all. It was easier to keep moving, to keep walking, to not let yourself stop and sink further into the hurt. Yet, the thought of what you had just discovered gnawed at you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of being utterly alone, even in the grand halls of the Red Keep.

Perhaps this was what you were destined for—an existence of solitude, with only the expectations of others to keep you company.

The morning light filtered through the windows as you once again found yourself standing by the balcony, gazing out at the training fields below. Aemond was somewhere in the distance, engaged in his usual practice, but today, your attention was drawn elsewhere.

Daemon had arrived, his presence unmistakable. He stood at the far end of the field, flanked by Jace and Luke. Their figures stood out against the sprawling green, their conversations faint but visible from where you stood. Daemon, however, seemed to carry an aura that made everything around him seem more alive, more intense.

Your gaze lingered on him for a moment too long, your heart racing in your chest as you took in the sharp angles of his face and the confident stance he always carried with him. Daemon was a man of many contradictions, a man who didn’t simply occupy a room but owned it with his presence.

And then, as if fate itself had decided to intervene, your eyes met his.

The connection was instantaneous—his gaze locked with yours, piercing and unyielding. The world seemed to slow down for a moment, your breath catching in your throat as a shiver ran down your spine. His eyes were intense, full of something you couldn’t quite decipher, but it made your heart race in a way that was both exhilarating and unsettling.

For a brief, terrifying moment, it felt as though time itself had suspended, as though everything in the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. The silence between you and Daemon seemed louder than any noise that could have existed around you. You had never been so aware of the space between two people, nor had you ever felt so vulnerable under someone’s gaze.

Then, just as quickly as it had happened, the moment passed. Daemon’s gaze didn’t falter, but he broke the connection, turning his attention to something else in the field. It was as if nothing had happened, yet everything inside you seemed to have shifted in that brief exchange. You felt a flutter in your chest, an emotion that you couldn’t place.

You exhaled slowly, trying to steady your breath, but the tension in your body remained. There was something about Daemon, something that stirred you in ways you didn’t understand, and the moment of connection had left you shaken.

As your gaze drifted away from him, your mind replayed the brief moment again and again, wondering if it had meant anything or if it was simply a fleeting glance, a chance meeting of eyes. Yet the way it made you feel lingered, and you couldn’t push the feeling aside.

Aemond’s presence, once so overwhelming, now seemed distant, almost unimportant compared to the weight of that single moment with Daemon.

With your mind still reeling from the brief, electric moment with Daemon, you found yourself needing to escape the confines of your chamber, to clear your thoughts. The Red Keep felt stifling, the weight of expectations, your marriage, and your emotions pressing in on you. You needed fresh air, a place to collect your thoughts. So, you decided to walk toward the garden.

As you stepped into the lush expanse of the garden, the tranquility of the space surrounded you—soft petals fluttering in the breeze, the scent of blooming flowers filling the air. It was a rare moment of peace in this chaotic life, but even in the serenity of the garden, your thoughts remained unsettled. Your steps carried you slowly, each footfall a reflection of your state of mind.

And then, you saw her.

Rhaenyra stood near a small fountain, speaking to one of her attendants. Her figure was graceful, her presence unmistakable, and for a moment, you hesitated. There was always something about Rhaenyra—her strength, her fire—that had both drawn you in and set you at odds with her. You had always been aware of the tension between your families, the rivalry that had existed long before you had even come into your marriage with Aemond.

But today, as you watched her speak to her servant, there was no tension, only a quiet, almost vulnerable air to her. She appeared momentarily unguarded, a fleeting glimpse of something more human than the fierce princess many people saw.

Pushing aside any doubts, you decided to approach. Rhaenyra noticed your approach, her eyes flicking up to meet yours, and a soft smile played at the corners of her lips.

“Princess,” she greeted warmly, her voice light and pleasant. “It is good to see you. How are you today?”

Her words were genuine, not filled with the usual tension or formalities that often hung between you both. It felt like a moment of peace, one that you had not expected but now welcomed.

You returned the smile, feeling a quiet relief in her easy demeanor. “I’m well, thank you,” you replied, your voice steady despite the storm that had been brewing within you all morning. “I was just walking through the garden to clear my thoughts. It’s nice to see you here.”

Rhaenyra nodded, her gaze softening. “Yes, the garden has always been a place of solace for me. Especially when the world outside feels too loud.” She glanced around the garden, her gaze lingering on the blooming flowers. “Perhaps it’s the same for you as well.”

There was something about the way she said it, as if she understood exactly what you were going through, as though she knew the weight of expectations, the constant pressure.

“I often come here for the same reason,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You weren’t used to speaking so openly, especially not to her. But something about this moment felt different.

Rhaenyra tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful. “I understand,” she said quietly. “This place is quiet, peaceful. But even here, I know the world still watches, still waits for us to fulfill our roles.”

There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you in that moment, a shared burden of what it meant to be women in this world, bound by duty and expectation. And for the first time, you felt like you were not alone in that struggle.

As you and Rhaenyra continued your conversation, the weight of her words resonated with you. There was an understanding, an unspoken connection that seemed to transcend the rivalry that often defined your relationship. In that moment, you were simply two women, navigating a world full of expectations and pressures.

But then, the sound of a familiar voice broke the quiet exchange.

“Rhaenyra,” came Daemon’s voice, smooth and commanding, cutting through the tranquility of the garden.

You turned to see Daemon standing a short distance away, his eyes briefly meeting yours before moving to Rhaenyra. There was no mistaking the warmth in his gaze when he looked at her—something that seemed so far removed from the cold indifference that Aemond so often showed you.

Daemon took a few steps forward, his presence immediately commanding attention. “My love,” he said, his voice laced with that familiar air of authority. “Viserys has requested to see you. We should go.”

Rhaenyra, ever poised, smiled at her husband, a soft but affectionate look crossing her face. “Of course,” she replied, her voice carrying a subtle note of warmth that was reserved only for him. She then turned to you, her eyes briefly meeting yours. “It was good speaking with you. I hope we can talk again soon.”

You nodded, offering a smile in return, though there was an ache in your chest that you couldn’t quite explain. As Rhaenyra turned to follow Daemon, you couldn’t help but watch them, their connection undeniable, the easy way they interacted with one another contrasting sharply with your own cold marriage.

Daemon turned to give you a quick nod as he joined Rhaenyra, his expression unreadable. “Princess,” he greeted again, this time his tone more neutral, yet it still sent that same unsettling shiver through you.

As they walked off toward Viserys’s chambers, you were left standing in the garden, your thoughts swirling. The way Daemon and Rhaenyra moved together, so at ease, made the weight of your own situation feel even heavier. Their love and ease were a stark reminder of what you lacked, of the relationship you yearned for but had been denied.

Your gaze lingered on them for a moment longer before you turned away, your chest tight with emotions you didn’t know how to deal with.

The soft glow of candlelight filled your chamber as the day faded into night, and you stood by the mirror, adjusting the folds of your nightgown. Your thoughts were still occupied with the events of the day—the conversation with Rhaenyra, the fleeting exchange with Daemon. It was as if the world outside your room had been pushing and pulling at you, each moment leaving its mark.

But suddenly, the quiet of your room was broken by the sound of footsteps approaching. A shiver ran down your spine as you turned to the source of the noise. To your surprise, Daemon and Rhaenyra stepped into the room, their presence filling the space before they even spoke.

Daemon’s eyes briefly met yours, and for a moment, it felt as if the air grew thick with unspoken tension. He offered you a small, almost imperceptible nod, a greeting of sorts, before his attention shifted to Rhaenyra, who walked confidently toward you.

Your heart skipped a beat when Rhaenyra moved closer, her gaze steady as she approached. There was something different in her eyes, something that you couldn’t quite place. She reached out, and before you could react, she closed the distance between you and pressed her lips gently against yours.

The kiss was soft, unexpected, and it left you frozen, unsure of how to react. Rhaenyra, pulling back after just a brief moment, met your eyes with a knowing look, as if she had just shared something that was hers to give.

You stood still, your heart racing, as the reality of what had just happened sank in. Daemon watched quietly from the side, his expression unreadable, though there was a flicker of something—perhaps amusement, or perhaps something deeper—that passed through his gaze. Rhaenyra’s actions had been sudden, but there was an intensity to them, a weight that carried more than just the gesture of a kiss.

“I hope that wasn’t too surprising,” Rhaenyra said, her voice low but steady. Her gaze never left yours, and there was an undeniable curiosity in her eyes. “We are not so different, you and I. Both trapped by our duties, by the roles we are forced to play.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what to say. You had expected many things from Rhaenyra—her warmth, her fierce spirit, perhaps even her indifference. But this… this was something you had not anticipated.

Daemon, who had remained silent through the brief exchange, finally spoke up. “She doesn’t mean to overwhelm you,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Rhaenyra simply believes in the bonds that tie us all together. Even those of us caught in complex situations.”

The room felt charged with an unfamiliar energy, as if something had shifted, but you were unsure of how to respond or what to make of it all.

The air in your chamber seemed to grow thicker as Rhaenyra spoke, her voice steady yet filled with an unspoken depth. “You remind me of myself when I first married Laenor,” she said softly, her eyes meeting yours with an intensity that sent a strange shiver down your spine. Her words lingered in the air, a subtle weight pressing down on you.

Before you could fully process her statement, you felt a shift in the atmosphere. A subtle warmth near your ear caught your attention—Daemon, so close now, that you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. The proximity of him was overwhelming, and his presence alone seemed to command the room.

Your heartbeat quickened, and before you could react, you felt Rhaenyra’s hands move toward you. With surprising gentleness, she began to unbutton the intricate fastenings of your nightgown, her touch almost delicate as she slid each button free, her fingertips grazing your skin with purpose.

You couldn’t fully comprehend what was happening. It was as if the world had shifted beneath you, leaving you uncertain and unsteady in the face of these unexpected actions. Rhaenyra’s gaze never left yours, her expression unreadable but full of something—an understanding, a knowing—that you didn’t know how to interpret. And Daemon, standing behind you, remained still, but you could feel the tension in the room, the palpable connection between the three of you.

Rhaenyra’s hands paused briefly, her fingers hovering over the last button of your gown. She gave a soft, knowing smile, her voice quieter now as she spoke again. “You don’t need to be afraid, love. We are not so different, you and I. We do what we must, for duty, for our roles. But sometimes, it’s necessary to embrace what is given.”

Daemon’s presence was undeniable, his quiet intensity only adding to the confusion and the strange pull you felt in this moment. You could feel his eyes on you, and there was something in the air between you, something unspoken that made your pulse race.

Rhaenyra’s words, her touch, and the weight of Daemon’s presence were all overwhelming, and you found yourself frozen, unsure of how to respond or where to go next in this unexpected moment. The boundaries between your roles, your emotions, and your desires seemed to blur, leaving you caught in a place that felt both foreign and familiar.

Daemon’s touch was gentle at first, his fingers brushing over the length of your arm, sending a wave of warmth across your skin. The soft pressure of his hand left you in a daze, uncertain of how to respond. His presence was intoxicating, filling the space around you with a tension that you couldn’t escape.

“You don’t need to worry about your duties right now,” Daemon’s voice rumbled softly, his words almost like a command, yet wrapped in an unfamiliar sense of calm. His breath was warm against your ear, and as he spoke, his fingers continued their slow, deliberate movement along your arm, creating an almost hypnotic effect. “Relax,” he murmured, “Let Rhaenyra and I take care of you. We’ll handle everything else.”

His words were both comforting and disorienting, as if in that moment, the weight of your responsibilities, your marriage, your expectations—all of it—could simply be put aside, forgotten, if you chose to surrender. The intensity in his voice sent shivers through your body, and despite every instinct telling you to remain cautious, you found yourself drawn to the power of his presence.

Rhaenyra, still standing before you, seemed to sense your hesitation. She moved closer, her gaze unwavering, her hands gently guiding you as she finally finished unbuttoning your gown. The soft fabric of your nightgown slipped from your shoulders with a light rustle, leaving your skin exposed to the cool air of the room. Her touch, though soft and tender, felt deliberate, as if she had been in this position before—an experienced hand, guiding you toward something beyond your control.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” Rhaenyra said softly, her voice a contrast to Daemon’s darker tone. “We’re not here to hurt you. Only to give you what you’ve been denied, what you deserve.”

Daemon’s hand moved from your arm to the back of your neck, his thumb lightly grazing your skin as he tilted your head slightly, pulling your attention back to him. His gaze was steady, unwavering, as if he were trying to read your thoughts. “Trust us,” he murmured. “Let us take care of you tonight.”

In that moment, as both their gazes locked onto you, you were caught in a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, desire, fear, and curiosity. The boundaries between right and wrong seemed to blur, and for a brief, fleeting moment, you considered allowing yourself to surrender to their control, to let them guide you through the unknown.

The room seemed to blur around you, your senses overwhelmed by the closeness of Daemon and Rhaenyra. The warmth of Daemon's breath brushed against your skin, and then you felt his lips, soft yet commanding, pressing against the curve of your neck. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire that you hadn't felt before. His kiss lingered, deliberate and possessive, as though claiming a part of you that had long been neglected.

Before you could fully process the feeling, Rhaenyra's hands gently cupped your face, drawing your attention back to her. Her lips captured yours once more, tender but insistent, her kiss filled with a mix of understanding and purpose. She kissed you as if to tell you that she knew your pain, your loneliness, and she was offering you an escape, even if just for a moment.

Daemon's hand slid to your waist, his fingers firm yet careful, grounding you as his lips continued their slow exploration of your neck. The contrast between his intensity and Rhaenyra's gentleness was almost dizzying, and you found yourself caught between them, unsure whether to resist or to let go.

"You've been holding back for too long," Rhaenyra whispered against your lips, her voice low and soothing. "It's time you allow yourself to feel... to live."

Daemon's voice followed, a soft murmur near your ear, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. "You deserve this. You've spent too much time trapped in duty, in isolation."

Their words, their touch, their presence-it was too much and not enough all at once. A part of you wanted to pull away, to resist the pull of their shared intensity. But another part of you, the part that had been yearning for connection, for validation, for something real, wanted to stay.

As they surrounded you, their movements synchronized, their intentions clear, the choice lingered heavily in the air. Would you surrender to this unexpected moment, or would you step away from the edge before it was too late?

Daemon's hands were firm yet steady as he guided you toward the bed, his touch sending a cascade of unfamiliar emotions through your body. Every step you took felt deliberate, as though the world had slowed down to accommodate the weight of the moment.

When you reached the edge of the bed, he sat down first, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that was both unnerving and mesmerizing.

Without a word, he gently pulled you onto his lap, his hands resting securely on your waist, grounding you in place. The heat of his body pressed against yours, and for a moment, you couldn't focus on anything but the rhythm of his breathing and the firmness of his hold.

Rhaenyra didn't give you a chance to process further. Her lips found yours once again, and this time, the kiss was deeper, more insistent.

Her fingers trailed along your jawline, tilting your face toward her as she leaned in closer, her touch soft but commanding. She kissed you with purpose, as if she were determined to make you forget everything but her presence.

Daemon's hand slid up your back, his touch light yet possessive, as if silently reminding you that he was still there, a steady anchor in this storm of emotions. His breath brushed against your ear, and his voice, low and full of a quiet command, sent shivers down your spine. "Relax," he murmured, his tone soothing yet full of unspoken promise.

Rhaenyra pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, her lips still close to yours as she whispered, "You don't have to hold back anymore. Let yourself feel, truly feel, for once."

Caught between Daemon's steady presence and Rhaenyra's fiery passion, you felt a whirlwind of emotions-desire, uncertainty, and a strange sense of belonging you hadn't experienced before. Their combined intensity was overwhelming, yet there was something in their actions that made you hesitate to pull away.

You found yourself teetering on the edge of surrender, unsure if you were ready to step into the unknown or retreat to the safety of what you knew.

daemon's hand moved from your waist to your core that was starting to get wet, his fingers started to dance there. touching your clit starting to swell, you moaned into your kiss. rhaenyra didn't stay still either, her hands started to squeeze your exposed breasts, you melted into her touch.

You could feel Daemon's hard cock beneath you, you slowly grinded against him making him growl softly. Rhaenyra then broke the kiss and pressed your foreheads together, Daemon's fingers kept going in and out of your body making you moan his name.

You leaned your body on his shoulder as Rhaenyra crouched in front of you and replaced Daemon's fingers with her tongue, licking your wet cunt. Your body arched because of the pleasure her tongue gave, "Fuck, gods. please Rhaenyra"

"Yes, like that, let yourself go for tonight. Let us take care of you, sweetie," Daemon whispered in your ear, making you close your eyes. Rhaenyra's tongue continued to fuck you down there, her nose also continued to touch your clit, making you even more lost in pleasure.

The knot in your stomach began to tighten as rhaenyra replaced her tongue with her two fingers. her fingers curved to touch your spot which made you moan loudly, she looked at you with a lustful gaze "you look so beautiful my love"

Your body began to tremble as waves of pleasure hit your body, rhaenyra then returned to licking your cunt which was wet because of your fluids. after that daemon then put you to bed and began to open his tunic and pants, as did rhaenyra who began to open the dress she was wearing.

You who are still weak because of your orgasm can only watch them, slowly daemon pumps his hardened cock and directs it to your cunt. while rhaenyra moves and positions herself above your face, "are you ready?" You hesitated for a moment but you nodded, and with that Rhaenyra started to move her cunt closer to your mouth signaling you to do the same thing she did earlier.

Rhaenyra moaned as your tongue began to lick her folds, her hands holding onto daemon's shoulders as support so she wouldn't fall. Daemon then began to rub the head of his penis against your folds and entered you slowly, you moaned as you felt his cock enter slowly. "So you're still a virgin? Aemond is really stupid to miss this one"

Without warning, he thrust his penis into your cunt completely, making you scream softly as he split you in two, making Rheenyra moan because of the vibrations from your mouth.

"Fuck you're so thigh" Daemon growled before he moved his hips, fucking you roughly and fast. You spread your legs so he could fuck you more freely, while your tongue continued to fuck Rhaenyra. Daemon then pulled Rhaenyra's head and kissed her without slowing down his pace.

Daemon's cock slammed deep into your cunt, making you drunk on pleasure. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten again as he continued to pound into you with his cock, you could also feel Rhaenyra who was also about to cum. You suck her clit and she lets out a long moan that is muffled by her kiss with Daemon, then she cums in your mouth which you happily lick clean.

Rhaenyra lay beside you limply, she stroked your face as the daemon continued to pound his cock inside you, chasing his release. You moaned incoherently beneath her, Rhaenyra kissed you again and played with your nipples, "I'm going to fill you with my seed" with a soft groan Daemon then released his seed deep inside you.

The warmth of the moment seemed to envelop you, a soft and comforting presence surrounding you as you lay in the center of the bed, with Daemon on one side and Rhaenyra on the other. The room was quiet now, the air heavy with the lingering scent of their closeness.

Daemon’s hand, strong yet tender, rested on your arm, his fingers lightly tracing the delicate lines of your skin in a rhythmic pattern. The sensation was soothing, grounding you, and despite the chaos that had filled your mind earlier, you felt a strange sense of calm washing over you. His touch was a silent promise, a reassurance that, for now, you were not alone.

Rhaenyra’s hand, equally gentle, caressed your cheek, her fingers brushing against your skin with a softness that seemed to contrast with the intensity of the earlier moments. Her touch was almost like a whisper, her presence both nurturing and knowing. As her fingers traced the outline of your face, you found yourself closing your eyes, allowing the sensations to lull you into a peaceful state, a moment of rare tranquility.

The weight of their bodies beside you, their breathing steady and calm, created an intimacy that was both overwhelming and oddly comforting. It was as though time had slowed down, and in this moment, the boundaries between you, them, and your roles seemed to fade into the background. You were just… here. Here with them, in this strange, complicated space where everything else seemed to disappear.

The soft sound of their breathing filled the silence, the gentle rhythm of their presence lulling you further into a state of ease. You felt the quiet connection between the three of you, not needing words to understand the shift that had occurred. In the silence of the night, there was a sense of belonging—a temporary escape from the complexities of your world.

And as the warmth of their hands and the steady rhythm of their breath surrounded you, you allowed yourself to drift into a peaceful sleep, letting go of the uncertainty, the fear, and the tension that had defined so much of your life. For now, all that remained was this moment, shared between you and them.

The days that followed felt like an unending cycle, each one blending into the next, but always carrying the same weight. Night after night, Daemon and Rhaenyra would find their way back to your room, their presence a warmth you had longed for but never received from Aemond. They filled the silence of your nights with something tender and consuming, offering you the connection you had been craving in the absence of your husband’s touch.

With each passing night, you grew more accustomed to their closeness. The intimacy they provided, though complex and undefined, gave you a sense of comfort that you couldn’t deny. Daemon’s touch, Rhaenyra’s smile, they both made you feel seen, even as Aemond remained distant, his refusal to fulfill his duties as a husband as palpable as ever.

And then came the night of the celebration—the grand feast for Alicent and Viserys’ wedding anniversary. It was a lavish affair, full of pomp and ceremony, the hall filled with laughter and music, yet you felt like an outsider, a bystander in a world that had no place for your quiet discomfort.

You sat beside Aemond at the long table, the space between you colder than it had ever been. He remained silent, his eyes fixed on the center of the room, his posture rigid and unmoving. You, in turn, kept your gaze down, your hands resting on your lap as you watched the guests around you. But it wasn’t the laughter or the conversations that held your attention—it was Daemon and Rhaenyra, sitting at the far end of the table.

Their eyes met yours across the room, and for a brief moment, you felt the weight of their gaze. It was a look that spoke volumes, a quiet connection shared without a single word. Rhaenyra’s gaze softened, and Daemon’s smirk, though subtle, was undeniable. They were there, present with you in a way Aemond never was.

Aemond, however, seemed oblivious to the tension that filled the air, or perhaps he simply chose to ignore it. His attention remained fixed elsewhere, his demeanor distant and unyielding. You felt a pang in your chest, a sense of longing that only seemed to grow with each passing moment.

As the feast continued, the conversations and laughter around you seemed to fade into the background. The reality of your marriage—your relationship with Aemond—felt like a shadow in the midst of it all. The warmth you had been craving was just out of reach, hidden behind the cold mask Aemond wore.

And once again, as you sat there in silence, surrounded by the revelry, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all you would ever know—caught between your obligations and desires, between a husband who refused to acknowledge you and the two people who had shown you the warmth you had long been denied.

A month passed since the grand celebration, and life had carried on in its relentless, unchanging rhythm. But in the quiet moments, as you reflected on the days that passed, you realized that something had shifted within you. The familiar feeling of your cycle had not arrived, and with it, a growing realization dawned: you had missed your blood. For a brief moment, hope flickered in your chest. Could you be pregnant?

The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. Your body, in its own subtle way, seemed to be telling you something, but doubt immediately clouded your mind. How could you be pregnant when Aemond, your husband, had never once touched you? He had never fulfilled the most basic of marital duties. It was Daemon and Rhaenyra who had been there for you, offering warmth and connection in ways Aemond never had.

You couldn’t bring yourself to announce anything yet. The absence of Aemond’s presence in your life—the absence of his affection, his involvement—made it feel impossible to reveal the truth. What would they think? How would they react, especially after everything? Would they even believe you?

In the quiet of your room, with the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you, you felt trapped. Daemon and Rhaenyra had become your comfort, your refuge, but even they couldn’t provide the answers you desperately needed. The situation was complicated, and the absence of Aemond’s touch left a profound void that you couldn’t ignore.

What if you were pregnant? How could you navigate this tangled web of emotions, obligations, and relationships? You had no answers, only more questions. You had been left alone in a marriage that felt like a cold, empty promise, and now the possibility of pregnancy was only adding to the confusion and fear.

You couldn’t help but feel that whatever news you might have, it would never be the simple joy that others experienced. It would come with the weight of your isolation, the complexity of your situation, and the ever-present tension between duty and desire.

The night had settled over King’s Landing like a heavy blanket, the castle bathed in soft moonlight as you walked quietly through its familiar corridors. In your hands, you held two glasses of wine, the delicate crystal catching the faint glow of the candles. You weren’t sure if it was a decision driven by loneliness, frustration, or the desire for something more, but tonight you had decided to take matters into your own hands.

You arrived at Aemond’s chamber, the door creaking softly as you pushed it open. There he was, sitting at the edge of the bed, his back straight and his gaze distant, as always. His cold, stoic demeanor never faltered, and yet tonight you felt a sense of determination you hadn’t known before. He was yours, and yet, he was not. That distance between you both had grown too vast, too painful to ignore.

You approached him, offering one of the glasses of wine with a soft smile. “I thought you might enjoy this,” you said, your voice calm yet filled with an underlying tension.

Aemond glanced at the wine and then at you, his eye narrowing slightly. He took the glass from your hand without a word, his fingers brushing yours, and he brought it to his lips, drinking it in one swift motion. His expression remained unreadable, but you could sense something shifting in the air, a subtle change as the wine settled into his system.

You didn’t immediately say anything as you placed the second glass on the bedside table, watching him. Your heart raced slightly as you realized this was your chance, the moment you had waited for. You had carefully placed something in the wine, a small but potent dose that would make him drowsy—enough to fall into a deep sleep, allowing you to do what you had planned.

After a few moments, Aemond’s eyes began to droop. He set the empty glass down on the table, his body relaxing against the pillows. His breathing deepened, and before long, he had fallen into a peaceful slumber.

You slowly take off all the clothes on his body then you also take off the nightgown that is attached to your body. You stood there for a moment, watching him, the air thick with a mixture of relief and guilt. The wine had worked faster than you anticipated, and now that he was unconscious, you felt the cold weight of your next action.

Your hand trembled slightly as you reached for a small vial hidden in your sleeve. It contained blood—the very blood that would mark his bed, a symbol of your possession, your claim, in a way that you hadn’t been able to in life. You let a few drops fall onto the sheets, watching as the crimson liquid soaked into the fabric. It was a harsh act, but one you felt you needed.

You turned back to the bed, your breath shaky. The last thing you wanted was for him to wake up and see what you had done. You lay down beside him, the bed sinking slightly under your weight as you settled next to him. Your body was close, but your thoughts were far away. You could feel the weight of his presence, yet you were alone, as always.

In the silence of the room, you spoke softly, almost to yourself. “I’m doing this for us… for our future.” The words were hollow, the conviction in your voice uncertain, but they were all you could muster.

For a long moment, there was no response from Aemond. He remained asleep, unaware of your actions. His steady breathing was the only sound filling the room, and it made you feel both powerful and insignificant at the same time.

You closed your eyes, feeling the pull of exhaustion, but there was a part of you that remained awake, thinking about the consequences of your actions. This wasn’t the path you had hoped to take with him, but it was the only path that seemed to lead anywhere now.

The early morning light filtered softly through the curtains as Aemond stirred from his sleep. His sharp gaze scanned the room briefly before settling on you, lying peacefully beside him. His breath hitched, his body tensing at the sight—it was something he had never experienced before, waking up to find you so close.

But then, his eyes shifted downward, to the crimson stains on the sheets. The sight of blood jolted him fully awake. He sat up, pulling the covers back further, his jaw tightening as he stared at the damning evidence before him.

For a moment, he said nothing, his mind racing to make sense of what he was seeing. Then, his voice cut through the quiet, low and laced with suspicion. “What did you do?” he demanded, his single eye narrowing as he turned to face you.

The sound of his voice stirred you from your sleep. Your lashes fluttered open, and you blinked at him in confusion before his words registered. You sat up slowly, pulling the sheets around you for modesty, though the tension in his voice made your heart race.

“What are you talking about?” you murmured groggily, trying to sound calm despite the growing unease in your chest.

Aemond gestured sharply to the stained sheets, his expression dark and unreadable. “This. The blood. What happened last night?” His tone was clipped, yet there was a strange edge to it—something between accusation and genuine confusion.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence as you met his intense gaze. “You don’t remember?” you asked softly, your voice laced with just the right amount of surprise.

His eye narrowed further, the doubt clear on his face. Aemond prided himself on his sharp memory and self-control, and the thought that he might have forgotten something as significant as this was clearly unsettling him. He opened his mouth to speak but then hesitated, glancing back at the sheets as if they held the answer he was searching for.

“You drank quite a bit of wine,” you continued, your voice steady now as you began to weave your story. “You seemed so… different last night. I didn’t think it was possible for you to be so… gentle.” You let the words hang in the air, carefully observing his reaction.

Aemond’s jaw tightened, his fingers flexing at his sides as he processed your words. “I don’t get drunk,” he muttered, his tone more defensive than certain. But there was a flicker of doubt in his eye, the seed of uncertainty taking root.

You leaned closer, placing a hand on his arm in what you hoped was a reassuring gesture. “I didn’t think you did either,” you admitted, lowering your gaze as if you were hesitant to continue. “But last night… it was as if you finally let your guard down.”

His eye flicked to you, searching your face for any sign of deceit. For a long moment, the room was filled with a heavy silence, the tension between you thick enough to cut.

Finally, Aemond exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he looked away. “I don’t remember,” he admitted reluctantly, his voice low and laced with frustration.

You hid your relief, masking it with a small, understanding smile. “Perhaps it’s for the best,” you said gently. “We can move forward from here, together.”

Aemond didn’t respond immediately, his gaze distant as he wrestled with his thoughts. You could feel the weight of his internal conflict, but you didn’t press further. For now, the seeds of your plan were sown, and all you could do was wait for them to grow.

After that morning, something shifted between you and Aemond. Though he was still reserved and distant at times, there was a subtle change in his demeanor. He began to spend more time in your presence, sharing meals with you in the privacy of your chambers or walking alongside you through the gardens of the Red Keep. His sharp words softened, his gaze lingered a little longer, and the cold barrier that had always separated you seemed to thaw—if only slightly.

Most notably, Aemond no longer left for the Street of Silk. Night after night, he returned to your shared chambers, a silent promise that spoke louder than words. At first, he would stay on his side of the bed, his back turned to you, but his presence alone was enough to fill the emptiness you had grown accustomed to. Over time, he began to sit closer to you, speak more openly, and even share small moments of quiet companionship that you had once thought impossible.

The change was gradual, but undeniable. One evening, as you sat by the hearth together, Aemond handed you a book he had been reading, his tone softer than you had ever heard it. “I thought you might enjoy this,” he said, his eye meeting yours for a fleeting moment before he looked away, a faint hint of awkwardness in his expression.

You accepted the book with a smile, your heart swelling at the simple gesture. “Thank you,” you replied, your voice warm. It was a small thing, but it felt monumental after everything that had passed between you.

The nights became easier, too. Aemond would lay beside you without the tension that had once been ever-present. Occasionally, he would place a hand on yours, or murmur a few words before sleep claimed him. These moments, though fleeting, were enough to make you feel like you were finally breaking through the walls he had built around himself.

It wasn’t perfect. There were still days when Aemond’s temper flared or when the distance between you felt insurmountable. But those days were fewer and farther between. For the first time in your marriage, you began to feel like a true couple, bound not just by duty but by the fragile beginnings of understanding.

You didn’t know if his newfound devotion was born of guilt, responsibility, or something deeper. But as he stood beside you during court, offered you his arm at feasts, and lingered in your chambers long into the night, you couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope—a hope that, perhaps, this union could become something more.

The dining hall was alive with the soft murmur of conversation and the clinking of silverware as you sat beside Aemond during the evening meal. Alicent and Viserys were seated at the head of the table, with Helaena and her children nearby. Across from you sat Rhaenyra and Daemon, who had remained at King’s Landing longer than expected, their warm smiles lighting the room.

You glanced at Aemond, who was cutting into his food with his usual precision, and took a deep breath. The moment had come, and though your heart raced, you knew it was now or never. Setting your goblet down gently, you cleared your throat, drawing the attention of everyone at the table.

“If I may have a moment,” you began, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. “I have some news I would like to share.”

The room grew silent as all eyes turned to you. Alicent leaned forward slightly, her expression a mixture of curiosity and hope. Aemond, seated beside you, raised a brow, his usual stoic demeanor softening with intrigue. Even Daemon and Rhaenyra, seated at the far end of the table, looked at you with genuine interest.

You placed a hand over your stomach, the gesture subtle but unmistakable. “I am with child,” you announced, your voice filled with quiet pride.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, as if the weight of your words needed time to settle. Then, Alicent was the first to react, her face lighting up with unrestrained joy. “Oh, my dear, that is wonderful news!” she exclaimed, rising from her seat to approach you.

The others followed suit. Rhaenyra smiled warmly, her eyes meeting yours across the table. “Congratulations,” she said, her voice sincere. Daemon gave you a subtle nod, his lips quirking into a knowing smirk. Even Helaena, often lost in her own thoughts, looked up and offered you a soft, dreamy smile.

Aemond’s reaction, however, was the one that caught you off guard. His expression shifted from surprise to something you hadn’t seen before—genuine happiness. A rare, fleeting smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he turned to you. “Truly?” he asked, his voice low but filled with wonder.

You nodded, your heart swelling at the sight of his reaction. “Yes,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “You’re going to be a father.”

Aemond’s hand reached for yours under the table, his grip firm and reassuring. For a moment, it felt as though the entire room faded away, leaving only the two of you. The tension that had once defined your relationship seemed to dissipate, replaced by a fragile but growing bond.

As the evening continued, the room buzzed with excitement and congratulations. Alicent fussed over you, already speaking of preparations for the nursery, while Viserys offered his own quiet blessings. Rhaenyra and Daemon exchanged a look, one you couldn’t quite interpret, but their smiles remained warm.

For the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of belonging—not just to Aemond, but to the family you had married into. And as you glanced at your husband, who now watched you with an unfamiliar softness in his eye, you couldn’t help but feel that this child might be the key to the future you had longed for and you will hide this secret for the rest of your life.

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