#those clothes are SOFTER alright

[ickyguts]

oh shit it's a bunny 🐰

[princessbrunette]

Reader visiting pogue!rafe and wearing the tiniest sundress to thank him for taking such a good care of her and for coming to midsummer. She would give him the sloppiest nastiest blowjob because she is so grateful

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it was one of those really hot days. the type where your clothes stick to you, even the hot breeze serves as no relief and you just wish to be left alone.

it was rafe’s day off from the building site, which he’s grateful for — as he’s not sure he’d be able to manage under such harsh conditions. the pogue lounges on his beat up couch infront of his shitty tv with a beer, legs spread — the rickety oscillating fan by his side offering no solace from the thick muggy air. just as he starts to find the energy to be irritated with this, there’s a knock at his door. the last thing he needs.

“jesus—what, i can’t have one god-damn day…” he mutters away to himself like a grumpy old man as he storms to the door, swinging it open. lo and behold, there you are in the tiniest, flimsiest sundress holding a crate of beer, looking a little clammy but excited to see him nonetheless.

“hi rafe!” you chime, totally unaffected.

“the hell are you doin’ all the way out here, s’not a nice part of the island, alright—”

“i come bearing gifts. may i come inside?” you ask so sweet and politely, leaving rafe only able to blink at you for a moment before you’re shuffling past him anyway without an answer, humming to yourself. “i know these ones are your favourite. they’re probably a little luke warm by now ‘cos i had to carry them here but if i stick them in the fridge they’ll probably be good to go in another ten minutes or so.” you chat away happily, walking right through to the small fridge on the ground in his kitchen, absentmindedly bending all the way over to shove the crate inside, giving rafe a real show of the delicate panties beneath your dress.

“really you — you walked all the way here for some beers, alright— okay.” he shakes his head in exasperation, turning and flopping back down onto the couch, closing his eyes for a moment at the unbearable heat. suddenly, you were right there.

“not just that.” your voice is softer now, closer. he can feel your breath on his face and it’s cold somehow— like you’d been sucking on an ice pop before coming in. the feeling isn’t unwelcome. his eyes flutter open, and it’s like someone had turned a switch inside of you because suddenly you’re all hungry eyes, wet mouth, hands that fidget for him.

“…no?” he drawls lazily, barely making an effort to shove an eyebrow up in questioning.

“wanted to thank you specially. for looking after me so well after midsummers. you’re a really good guy, rafe.” you’re so sweet it’s sickly and rafe shakes his head, averting his gaze with a lick of the lips and an eye roll.

“look i was just doing what anyone would have done alright — no need to make it a whole thing—”

“please… can i just show you how grateful i am? i’ve been practicing.” you practically groan, hands clenching into the fabric of his shirt.

rafe is starting to realise he has a real problem with saying no and standing by that— because soon he’s got you between his legs, drool leaking down onto his couch from the sloppy way you mouth at his cock, making out with the tip and taking breaks to ease him into your throat until there are tears on your cheeks. you seem as happy as anyone could be, little pleased moans and mewls leaving you periodically.

“the hell did you mean you’ve been practicing?” rafe asks between winces, a sharp pain in his abdomen at the thought of you getting in your blowjob rehearsals with another guy. he didn’t like that, and more importantly he didn’t like that he felt that way.

you reply to him, but it’s all garbled and spitty because his dick’s jammed half way down your throat so he pulls you off by the jaw, furrowing his brows curiously urging you to repeat yourself. you swallow, blinking wide wet eyes up at him.

“dildo.” you hum, before pushing his hand off and getting back to work. rafe relaxes back into the couch with an amused scoff.

“shit. your parents have got no clue, huh? no clue that they’ve got such a dirty little girl.” he spreads his legs a little wider, resting a hand on the back of your head.

you pull your mouth off to pull his cock to stand upright to access his balls, sucking and massaging them. “m’your dirty little girl too.” you respond in a shyer tone, almost like you were asking for permission. rafe blinks at you in zoned out analysis, wondering just what your father wasn’t providing you in order to make everything that came out of your mouth so wrong and freudian. rafe was just some construction working pogue — that’s how he saw it anyway. what it was about him that made you latch onto him so tightly and rely on him of all people for emotional validation and nurture was beyond him. you must’ve been a total masochist.

as you continue sucking he realises he didn’t so much mind the comment. everyone was ‘little’ to him at such a height so he’d let you have it.

“uh-huh. that right?” he entertains it, repositioning your mouth over his tip forcefully and feeding it back down your throat. “gonna let me in that throat now? huh? lemme cum baby? thought you were grateful. show me how thankful you are that i was nice to you, c’mon.” he pants, feet planted to the floor now as he lifts his hips — impatient. each little wet gag fuels him, and he chuckles breathlessly at the way you squeeze your eyes and fists closed to endure his manhandling.

“yeah not — not being very nice now am i? nah… s’what you get for messing with us nasty pogues. savages, baby.” he’s actively teasing you, making fun of the kook rhetoric as he pushes himself toward release. he knows those aren’t your views, but it’s satisfying to poke fun at you all the same.

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[sophie-looks-at-stuff]

The Dragon and the Dragon-less

Pairing: Aemond x Strong niece reader

Summary: The night Aemond had lost his eye, his sweet niece was the only one to provide him any sense of comfort. Many years later, when she returns to Kings Landing with her family, what should become of the two? ;)

Warnings: bad ship terminology (idk boats y'all sorry), Rhaenyra being kind of a bad mom (love her tho), Targcest/incest, softer Aemond, smut in the dragon pits, this one is kind of long haha

AN: Hey y'all! Since my first fic seemed to be received so well (thanks so much to everyone for that:) I decided to write another one! I'm staying on the Aemond train since I've never left it since day one haha. Let me know tho if there are any requests!

PS: I haven't gone through and totally edited this so don't mind the spelling or grammar issues if there are any!!

It had been awful, you remembered hearing the screaming and shouting from your chambers. The screeching having woken you up from a rather pleasant dream about eating cake–

In nothing but your night clothes, and a quilt draped around your shoulders, you padded down the chilly hallways of Dragonstone. 

“ – it was my sons who were attacked!” You hear your mother yell. Concerned you took a few more steps forward, finally able to make out the scene before you. Your mother and your brothers to one side, while Alicent and her boys on the other, the fire raging in the hearth between them. 

Your wide lilac eyes meet those of your stepfather, Prince Daemon, he reaches a hand out towards you as if to say “Come here”. Your feet did not move, rooted to the spot, eyes glancing around the room once more. You see something you hadn’t noticed before, Aemond, in the corner of the room, surrounded by maesters. A hand over his eye, thick, sticky fluid oozing from between his small fingers. Gasping, your own hands fly to cover your lips, perhaps to muffle the noise, or maybe to tame the scream building in your throat. Aemond’s healthy eye meets yours, pain, sadness but most of all fury over taking his features. 

Just then your mother turns to meet you, her gaze worried and frantic, “My sweet girl! You should return to your chambers this is no sight for you dearest,” her hand, also bloody you notice, rests above her heart.

“Mother, w-what has happened? Aemond, h-he, is he alright–” You begin to question, Daemon takes a step towards you and you take one forward into the room. Your concerned gaze flits over to Aemond once more. Despite the fire in the hearth, the chill of the room has set into your bones, causing you to pull the quilt tighter around your shoulders. 

“Come now byka zaldrīzes (little dragon) let us return you to your quarters. Aemond will be fine,” Your father attempts to comfort you. Maybe you are too tired to argue, or too shocked, your mind still attempting to comprehend what has happened. But you let your father guide you back to your chambers, the quilt trailing behind you like a cloak. 

With a lullaby and a pat on the head, Daemon bids you good night once more. Closing the door softly behind him, his heavy footsteps receding off into the distance, presumably back to your mother and brothers. It feels like hours as you stare at the ceiling, listening, straining your ears for even just a morsel of information. But the halls beyond your door remain as silent as the grave. The chill in your bones is stubborn, making you shiver. Sitting up and swinging your feet over the side of the bed, you wrap the quilt around your shoulders once again. As silently as possible, you open the door, the hall is empty save for the torches lining the walls. You’re bathed in the fiery orange glow as you step fully into the hall. 

You’re not quite sure where your feet carry you until you turn the corner and are met with Ser Criston Cole. His tall stature taking up the door frame of the young prince's room, his gold cloak behind him like an inverse shadow. It’s not until you come to stand in front of him that he addresses you. 

“Princess, you should not be here. You should return to your chambers,” He looks down his nose at you. Your knuckles turn white from the tight grip you have on the quilt.

“Please, Ser, I must see the Prince. What has happened to him? I must know if he is alright–” 

“Your brothers have maimed him. Who’s to say you aren’t here to do the same? Perhaps your whore of a –” The door behind him creaks a bit, one of the maesters appears in its place. Bloodied rags and a needle are held in his hands. He sighs “The prince says she may pass Ser Cole,”

With one last look of annoyance and a warning mumbled under his breath, the knight lets you pass. The room is dark, lit only by a few candles on the bedside table. Aemond’s hunched form lays on the bed, the blankets up to his chin. As you make your way closer you can see the true horror of what has happened this evening. Where his eye once was, now lays only marred flesh, red and angry, the stitches pull at the swollen skin. You gasp, shocked, a sick feeling settling into the pit of your stomach.

“Ugly isn’t it?” Aemond asks you, bitterness lacing his voice. As he speaks you make your way to his side, sitting lightly on the bed, next to his hip. Your small hand searching for his under the covers, to comfort him, or maybe to warm your own. 

“H-how did this happen? Who could possibly have–”

“Your brothers. Lucerys stole my eye. But an eye for a dragon is a fair price to pay is it not niece?” A proud, sad smile graces his features. While your brothers had dragons since they were but babes, you were not as lucky. Syrax had not laid a full nest, and your mother had decided it was best to give your brothers the two eggs. All the while you have remained dragonless. 

“Vhagar is now mine, and on the morrow, we shall leave this wretched place. And I will fly on dragon back to the Red Keep.” His singular lilac eye meets yours. “I promise you, sweet niece, one day I shall take you for a ride on dragon back. Show you the freedom that comes with it,” His previously bloodied fingers intertwined with yours. 

“I would like that very much uncle,” Looking down at your joined hands, a small smile of your own matching his. 

— — — — — — —

The waters of the sea lap against the side of the ship, the slap against the wood echoing around you. Overpowered only by the screeching of your family's dragons above you. Alone, you ride on this ship, well alone save for the ship hands and captain assigned by your father. Still, at the age of nine and ten, you remain dragonless, made to travel to the Red Keep by boat.

Your brothers claim to Driftmark had come into question, prompting the visit back to your old home. You hadn’t been back here since–

Your mother and father had determined it best to keep the family at Dragonstone after Aemond lost his eye. Although you had always suspected part of the reasoning for that was your mothers fear of retribution from Alicent for what your brother had done. Perhaps it was a long time coming though, your brothers as well as Aegon had picked on Aemond ruthlessly for years prior to that night. You had been spared only by the simple facts that you were a little girl, and just weren’t in there presence as much. Despite your pleas to join in the yard for training you had been denied, and turned towards the library instead to study “things more befit for your station” as your mother had put it.

“We shall dock shortly Princess,” the ship captain’s voice drifted to you from behind the wheel. You stood on the platform with him, looking beyond the masthead, you see Syrax and Caraxes land in the dragon pits. You sigh, it looks like you’ll arrive alone at the Red Keep, not expecting your mother to wait for you. Her and Daemon needed to prepare for the events of tomorrow. 

Arriving at the Keep felt haunting, the lack of a welcome only contributing to that fact. Once docked, you were met by a singular carriage and it’s driver. The captain had assured you that your belongings were to be delivered to your chambers shortly. For all your fathers faults he did have good trust and faith in those he employed. The ship’s captain had been with your families since you were a girl. He and yourself not unfamiliar with these lonesome journeys. 

The gates of the Red Keep came into view as you rolled over the bumpy roads of Kings Landing. Gold Cloaks lined the gate’s walls, closing the massive gate doors behind you, shutting you in, locking you within the castle grounds. The carriage comes to a jumpy halt, the driver offering you his hand as you disembark your ride. Your fingers slip into his as your boots squelch in the mud below you, the clanging of swords and metal meet your ears. 

“Nephews, have you come to train?” A voice says, one you could not recognize. From across the yard you see your brothers, you wave to them, hoping to catch their eye. Luke turns his head towards you, a small smile playing at his lips. Noticing this, the source of the voice follows his gaze, a singular lilac eye meeting yours.

“Niece, how you have grown–” Aemond’s lone eye takes in your figure. My how you’ve grown indeed. Last time he had seen you you barely came up to his chin, your silver locks a messs contained in small braids. The flush that never seemed to leave your cheeks remained however. You had grown taller, still standing shorter than himself, which he finds excites him a bit. More than it should perhaps. You had grown into yourself in a way that was very pleasing to his eye, your face fuller and lovely. Your curves soft and plush, inviting him to touch and caress them. 

“Uncle,” you offer him a small curtsey. You can hear Jace scoff, as if annoyed by the action. Wanting yo say more, but not knowing what, you continue to look at one another. Your own eyes take in your uncle, he had grown taller, much taller. His muscles lean and corded beneath his tunic. His silver hair almost as long as yours, is pulled back slightly in a braid. Some hanging free, escaping their confines during his sparring. His eye was now covered in an eyepatch, made of black leather, the tops and bottoms of the scar still visible even with it on. 

The arrival of another carriage turns your gaze to the left, where you yourself had arrived only moments ago. Vaemond Valaryon steps out of the carriage and into the yard, sparing a glance at the Prince and your brothers. A look of disgust crosses his face as he lays his eyes on Luke. 

— — — — — — —

The meeting to question Lucerys’ claim to Driftmark is long and dull, at least in the beginning. Mustering his limited remaining strength your grandsire had sat the thrown. Disputing Otto and Alicent in their claims. He looks horrible you think. His skin looks to be gray and sloughing off of his bones. The Stranger would be coming for him soon. It is not until Vaemond brings into question your brother’s parentage once again, that the apprehensive peace shatters. 

“And she is a–”

“Say it,” your father’s hand that rests on the hilt of Dark Sister tightens, knuckles whitening. 

“ – a WHORE!” In one swift blow, Daemon sends Vaemond’s head rolling across the floor of the throne room. Blood trailed behind the appendage like a snail’s trail. The room is filled with gasps and short screams. Your own eyes widened looking at the head on the stone floor before you. By no means are you unfamiliar with your father's violent nature, and nor should the rest of the court. 

“Let him keep his tongue,” Daemon wipes the blood off of his blade, stepping back, sheathing the sword once more. 

As if some kind of magic pulls you, you lift your eyes from Vaemonds severed head and meet those of your uncle. A smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, he looks to be well entertained by the violent display. Caught in your staring, Aemond’s gaze rises to meet your own, his smirk widening into a more sadistic smile. 

“Now, for the final order of business. A more pleasant way to end this affair,” the king says, his mellow voice carrying across the stone-lined room. “I am blessed by the Gods to have such a large family, but it appears that the Gods hope to bless us some more,” It was becoming increasingly more clear that Alicent’s love for The Seven has bled not just into the castle but its people as well.  You think maybe it gives the king something comforting in his final days. 

“My son, Aemond, a fine warrior and scholar,” Aemond stands rigid and straight, uncomfortable with the new attention from his father. “And my granddaughter, if your mother had not already claimed the title of Realms Delight then it would be most certainly passed to you.” Your cheeks flush a bright pink, warmth rising to the tips of your ears. 

“This family has been divided for quite some time, I tend to rectify that. Aemond, my son, and my granddaughter the princess, shall be married,” The reactions around the room are mixed, some people applaud, some cover their shock with their hands. Wide, prying eyes jump between you and Aemond. You dare a look in his direction, he is still staring, the smile gone from his face now. Confusion, shock, anger? You cannot tell but it is not sweet, and it is not kind.

A wave of confidence washes over you as you step forward, “What is the meaning of this? Why have I not had any indication of this until now?!” You feel your mother’s hand grasp your elbow, urging you to stand beside her, silently. “It is the wish of your grandsire, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon). He is dying, do not fight him,” Your head whips aside, meeting her eyes, eyes filled with sadness. Did she know of this? Did she approve of this? Your father would not meet your eyes, nor your brothers, Jace toeing at an invisible stone on the floor. Did they all know, except for you? 

You tear your elbow from your mother’s grasp, she opens her mouth to speak once more, but your back is already turned. Your feet lead you towards the grand door. You had to leave, you needed to be anywhere else but here. Your chest tightens, your breathing ragged. Not with sadness or grief, no, but with anger and fury. You feel as though you could breathe fire as the dragons do. An angered scream tears past your lips, reverberating off of the stone walls of the Red Keep. 

— — — — — — —

You had decided it best to skip the family feast. And a good thing too, unbeknownst to you it had gone horribly. Lucerys mocking Aemond over the roasted pig, Aemond's “final tribute” to his Strong nephews. No, instead you had taken your dinner in the library, back amongst your beloved books. The sun had set an hour or two ago now, the torches along the halls lit. You didn’t know how late it was, you had been much too absorbed in your novel Lady Coryanne Wylde, A Cautionary Tale for Young Girls. 

The wax on the candles had burned low, and your wine had turned cold. It was time to retire. Taking the book with you, you began to make your way toward your chambers, your old chambers. The last time you had slept there you had been but a girl. As you turn the corner you are met with a hard wall of warm, corded muscle. Your book tumbling to the ground. A pair of strong hands plant themselves on your shoulders, to steady you. 

“Careful niece, someone might think you are up to no good, wandering the corridors, at night–alone” The smile from earlier returns to his lips, and just then, he notices the book on the floor. His smile becoming impossibly wider, you don’t think you’ve ever really seen Aemond smile, not like this anyway. It’s nice, you think to yourself.

“What’s this dear niece,” he bends down to pick up the novel, his slim fingers sifting through the pages, his eyebrows lifting. “Well, well, who would have thought–”

“Give that back!” You reach to snatch it from him, like a child, but he just holds it higher over his head. “Tell you what, I made a promise to you. Do you remember?” Of course, you remembered, you still thought about it sometimes, but all hope of fulfilling it had left you.

“Yes–” it came out more hoarse than you had intended. Your hand frozen, outstretched, Aemond still held the book over his head. 

“Come with me to meet Vhagar, for a ride,” he leaned closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “Come taste the freedom of the skies with me niece.” He had tucked the book behind his back. Aemond wasn’t a man who typically waited for an answer, nor was he one who liked when people disagreed with him. He’d throw you over his shoulder if he must. Even though his hatred for your family ran deep, he could never seem to hate you. You had endeared yourself to him time and time again as children, but the night he lost his eye. The night you visited him, the only one not angry, the only one not repulsed by his face. He knew then that he could never hate you, no matter how hard he’d tried. 

Words had suddenly failed you, your tongue dry. You simply nodded instead. In response, Aemond straightened to his full, imposing height, and turning without a word, he began his stride down the hall, towards the dragon pits. You followed him, but neither of you spoke, the halls of the Red Keep filled with an odd sort of comfortable silence. His hair had grown longer, much longer, and he walked with a sense of confidence that hadn’t been there before. 

The night air was chill, a slight breeze blew through your hair, tousling the strands. You were glad you had worn a gown with longer sleeves, it must be chilly up in the clouds. Aemond was sporting his riding clothes, the leather over his tunic reaching his wrists. He looked good, really good, you thought to yourself. The flush from earlier returning to your cheeks, as well as the warmth in the tips of your ears. 

Aemond comes to a stop before the pits, waiting for you, the book still behind his back, taunting you. You suppose that was his insurance policy in case you had said no to joining him. You can only imagine your father's reaction to seeing you read such debauchery. You were his sweet little girl after all…

“Come now niece, no harm shall come to you while I am near,” He held his hand out to you, and you slipped your fingers between his. His hands are much smoother than the ship captains from earlier, you thought. His hand was warm, the blood of the dragon coursing through his veins. The sound of beating wings from up above drew you out of your daze. A dark shadow crossed over the pair of you, coming to land only several passes in front of you. Vhagar stood proud and strong, if not slightly tired. Her form was weathered by time and battle. It’s a blessing from the Gods that she can still take to the skies as she does. 

Aemond drew you nearer to her, your hand still held tightly in his, like all those years ago. “Give her a pat, she won’t bite, not unless I tell her to,” He chuckled a bit at his own joke, your eyes widening slightly, making him laugh all the more. “No need to be frightened, she’s quite gentle actually,” He guided your hand up to the beast's snout, his fingers had moved to circle your wrists, making the action easier. Your hand lay splayed out before you against Vhagar’s scales, her skin impossibly hot. The hand on your wrists moves to cover your own on the dragon. From behind you, Aemonds other hand rests on your waist lightly, like a whisper on the wind. Mayhaps this marriage won’t be too bad after all? Your anger from earlier was not directed at him you realize, but rather at the other members of your family. You were never pleased when things were kept from you when you were lied to. You like his hand there, you like it a lot, it provides you a sense of comfort and security as you stand before this large beast. You wonder how his calloused hands would feel elsewhere…

Aemond retracts his hand, yours following closely behind, you can still feel the heat of Vhagar’s scales on the skin of your palms. You begin to be tugged backward in the direction of Vhagar’s saddle. Aemond motions for you to begin climbing the ropes that lead to the mount, he follows behind you; prepared to catch you should the need arise. The saddle is less like a saddle and more like a small chariot on top of the dragon. It comfortably seats the two of you, and could even squeeze in a third. 

Aemond positions you in front of him, his legs caging yours, his arms reaching around the front of you to grasp onto the reigns. “Are you ready?” The question is whispered to you, his lips brushing your ear once more as he speaks. You rather like this position, the warmth radiating off of his body will surely keep you warm above the clouds. 

“Yes, yes I think I am,” Your own hands come up to rest atop his, surely just to steady yourself, and not at all because you were becoming increasingly more desperate to touch or be touched by the man behind you. 

“Sōvēs Vhagar!” Aemond pulls back and yells into the night air, sparring your delicate eardrums. The beast below you growls and jolts into action. She takes a few long strides before beginning to beat her wings, as she takes off into the crisp night air. 

Eyes glued shut you think you yell out a little yelp of initial fear and surprise. Aemond’s legs press tighter down on your own as if to reassure you that you are safe with him and his dragon. As Vhagar evens out her flying, coasting just above the clouds, you dare to open your eyes. Behind you, Aemond cannot stop the smile from spreading across his lips, he cannot see your face but he hopes it is a happy one. He’ll take you out flying every day that you are married if it will make you happy. He would burn the world down if it meant he could keep you safe and happy. To make you his. 

Truthfully he wasn’t all that surprised by his father’s announcement of your betrothal. As a boy, even before the incident, he had asked his mother and grandsire, Otto, what lords would court you, and if any would be good enough for a princess. It wasn’t until after he lost his eye that he first breached the subject of marriage to his mother. He’d told her he deserved it, that after all the pain he had gone through, it was only fair for him to spend his life beside someone whom he cared so deeply for. At the time his mother had just given him a kiss on the forehead saying “Perhaps one day, we shall see,” A sad smile had crossed her face then.

He’d given up on the hope of marrying for love after that. The ladies of court found him elusive and repulsive, opting to flirt with his brother, despite his marriage to Helaena. A few moons ago, Aegon had made a jest at Aemond’s expense, something about being tied to a Strong for all eternity. He had ignored it, deeming it nothing more than one of his brother's drunken comments. However, after the events of today, it seems he was not jesting after all.

Aemond is broken out of his thoughts by a lovely, bubbly sound. You’re laughing, your arms spread wide, fingers splayed out letting the wind rush through them. He immediately goes to grasp your waist, his legs still caged around yours, steading you, anchoring you to him and the saddle. 

“What the sweet Hells are you doing?! Put your hands back on the reigns!” He exclaims. You giggle some more, the wind drying your teeth as you smile. 

“I cannot uncle! You were right, this is marvelous! I feel as though I could rule the world from up here!” He had never seen anyone as dazzling as you were in this moment. Vhagar gave a slight jolt as she began to descend back downwards, causing you to jump forward a bit, hands grasping the reigns once more.

“I told you – “ He murmurs against your hair, placing a small kiss on your head. After another moment Aemond begins to guide Vhagar back towards the dragon pits. There’s a strain in his trousers he can ignore no longer. Years of pent-up desire and want boiling over. Ever the gentleman, he assists you in descending the beast. This time he goes first, his hand in yours as he helps you with the final jump down. 

“That was incredible, uncle that was truly –” Aemond uses his grip on your hand to tug you forward, clutching you to his chest, his lips meeting yours. You gasp into his mouth, surprised by the boldness of his actions. Before you are given the opportunity to reciprocate, he pulls away, a slight frown on his face.

“My apologies, I should not have–” 

“Yes, you should have actually. Why did you stop, I was quite enjoying myself,” You pull on the collar of his tunic, tugging his chapped lips back down to yours. Aemond uses his taller stature to guide you back up against a pillar within the pits. The two of you made only out of sight by half of a pillar, and Vhagar’s sleeping form. 

“And what if I were to take you, right here? Right now? Like a scene from your debaucherous novel,” He exclaims, his lips moving, forming a trail from your jaw down to your collarbone. Surely leaving marks, and love bites as he goes. Oh if only his brother could see him now, he thinks that perhaps Aegon would congratulate him on finally “getting it wet”. 

His grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. He was everywhere, all of your senses were overwhelmed by him. The smell of the oils used to wash his hair filled your nostrils, the smokiness from Vhagar had made a home in the threads of his clothes. You’re nearly positive that you must smell similar, you’ll need to get your gown cleaned certainly. 

Your hands began to fumble with the belt of his trousers, your fingers making clumsy work of the buckle. Aemond pulls away only for a moment to assist you, then he begins to work on the strings of your corset. His movements were desperate and quick, neither of you having the patience to wait much longer. All the while his lips never left your skin. You feel him smile against your skin as Vhagar makes a slight noise of annoyance at your escapades. Somehow between your messy kisses, your skirts had been rucked up to your hips, Aemond’s deft fingers making contact with your small clothes. 

“You’re rather wet dear niece. Do I rile you up so huh? I wonder how wet you’ll be with my cock inside your sweet cunt,” He says that last bit almost more so to himself rather than you. In response, a small whimper escapes your lips. Aemond looks up to meet your eyes. A certain twinkle reflects at you from his. 

“Another night I shall spend hours ravishing you, but I need to be inside you, now.” He gives his cock a few strokes, preparing himself. Your eyes widen at the sight, his shaft long and thick, his head red and leaking arousal. It was, invigorating, knowing that you could illicit such a response from him. With a delicate kiss to your lips and one final look of permission, Aemond sheathes himself inside you. Your warm walls squeeze him perfectly, welcoming him in. Gods he could stay right here like this forever. 

“ – move. Aemond Gods move please,” You begged him, your walls had adjusted to him. Feeling wonderful and full. He began slow, his thrusts taking on a rhythmic flow. Aemond tucks his face into the crook of your neck, smelling your hair, his grunts and groans in your ear. You drag your nails down his clothed back, perhaps next time you’ll be able to fully leave your marks on his skin. Thank the Gods Vhagar had decided to remain put, it would ruin your honor should anyone find you like this; even though your virtue was promised to him already.

“Fuck– I don’t know if I’ll be able to last much longer ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved). You are just too perfect–” He cuts himself off with a grunt.

“Finish then, let go Aemond, let got for me please, I–” You beg him, you need it just as much as he does.

“Not before you ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved).” Aemond moves down to circle your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. The pace of his thrusts picked up, your hands remained looped around his neck, anchoring yourself to him.

“Aemond, oh Aemond, Gods I’m gonna–” The words that left your mouth made hardly any sense. The words and phrases twist and turn into a bizarre hymn to your betrothed. 

“Cum, cum for me Jorrāelagon (love), give yourself over to me–” Aemond begged you. His lips biting and nipping at the flesh of your neck. On his command, a wave of pleasure washes over you, like the seas crashing into the shores of Driftmark. You remember drifting off to sleep as a girl to the lullaby of the sea. Aemond’s own release follows closely after your own. Still nestled inside of you, he rests his forehead against yours, sighing contentedly. 

“You know, when I was a boy, I had asked my mother to ask Rhaenyra for your hand. I had begged her actually,” He chuckles a bit at his anecdote.

“Did you?” You laugh along with him, less at the story and more so at the ridiculousness of your current situation. You feel him nod, his forehead brushing against yours as he does so. 

“Well,” you say in response, “ I had always wanted a dragon of my own. I had begged my mother actually”, you imitate Aemond’s words, giggling a bit as you do, “but now I need not ask any longer. For I have my very own dragon right here.” You place a kiss on his nose as you say this.

“Well my love, no longer shall you be dragonless, not as long as I am around anyways,” Aemond reassures you. He supposed he had two dragons now as well, with Vhagar he would burn the world down, but you gave him a reason to do so. With fire and blood he would protect you, love you, for that is the way of the dragon, that is the way of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your beloved betrothed. 

Tag List:

@ helaenaluvr  @ anukulee

[dixons-sunshine]

The Archer’s Girl | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the world ended, you and Daryl narrowly escaped the clutches of the dead and found yourselves in a quarry camp with Merle and some other people. Unwanted, someone in the camp took a weird liking and disliking to you, and it made you extremely uncomfortable. Luckily, Daryl was there to stand up for you.

Genre: Fluff, some angst.

Era: Outbreak day; The Quarry.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU but can be read as a standalone.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of morning sickness.

Word count: 4.4k.

A/N: Damn, I love when two requests correspond with each other and I can get them both into one fic. It’s my favourite thing in the whole world. I feel like Daryl is kinda ooc in this, but I tried to imagine how he’d be with a woman he just met at the quarry and started forming a relationship with vs how he’d be with someone he’s been with since he was a teenager, and in my mind, he’d totally be softer regarding someone he already knows and loves vs one he’s just started getting to know. So soft!Daryl in this, it is! Anyways, I hope you like this!

Barely one minute prior, you had strayed from Daryl’s side to go grab some milk. You had told him that you would be right back, but with all the chaos that had suddenly unfolded in front of you, you highly regretted leaving him at all. With everything going to hell, you could be separated from the man you loved. That thought terrified you.

“Daryl!” you called out, attempting to push past the stampede of people trying to hurriedly evacuate the store you were in. You were abruptly shoved into one of the shelves, a sharp pain shooting up into your ribs. A loud curse escaped your lips as you clutched your side.

However, as you turned around, nothing terrified you more than the sight that beheld you.

On the floor, a woman was screaming in pure, unadulterated agony. On top of her was a man whose body appeared to be decaying, and he ripped a huge chunk of her flesh from her chest. His grimy hands were clawing at her stomach, and with little to no effort, he tore her stomach open. The sight was truly mortifying, and it would never be erased from your mind.

A hand grabbed your wrist from behind. You flinched and tried to rip your hand from the person’s grip, but the familiar voice of your husband calmed you down. However, when you looked at him, you were surprised to note the splatter of dark blood all over his clothes and face.

“S’me! S’jus’ me!” he hurriedly explained. He cast one glance to the horrific sight in front of you before dragging you along with him, the two of you moving quickly. He stopped momentarily in front of one of the shelves to grab two knives, carefully pushing one of them into your hold. “Ya see one’a these dead motherfuckers, ya stab ‘em in the head, alright? S’the only way they drop dead.”

“What? I don’t—”

“Dun’ think ‘bout it, Peach!” he cut you off, pulling you with him out of the store again. “They ain’t alive. The news weren’t lyin’ to us ‘bout the dead risin’. We got a real fuckin’ problem on our hands now.”

Choosing to trust his judgement, you nodded and hurried next to him. The two of you ran down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of your apartment. As you continued onward, you highly regretted deciding to walk to the store instead of taking Daryl’s truck. It would have been a whole lot easier to escape the mess surrounding you if you had a vehicle.

Just as the two of you arrived at your apartment building, about a dozen of the undead people were stumbling out of the door. Daryl quickly pulled you with him to the parking area instead, making a beeline for his truck. However, more of those things flooded the area and a couple of them were heading straight towards you, and it was clear that the two of you weren’t escaping without a fight.

“Ya got yer knife?” Daryl questioned, shooting a glance at you over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you told him, gripping the knife so tightly your knuckles started turning white.

“Good,” he replied, stepping forward to plunge his knife into the skull of one of the monsters. He withdrew the knife, holding it ready to use at a moment’s notice. “Ya gotta stab ‘em in the head as hard as ya can, alright? Dun’ think ‘bout ‘em bein’ alive. These assholes ain‘t livin’ no more.”

“Don’t worry about me trying to talk them out of eating me or something,” you scoffed, replicating the way he was holding his knife with your own. “I’m not that stupid. All these fuckers are getting from me is a fatal blow to the head. They’re not touching me.”

“That’s my girl,” he praised you with a small smile. However, his attention soon got diverted back towards the flood of the undead stumbling around in the parking area.

As the two of you continued onwards, Daryl repeatedly stabbed the heads of the monsters. By some miracle, the two of you made it to his truck without you having to do anything. However, just as Daryl was getting into the driver’s seat and you were opening the door to the passenger seat, a slimy, blood-covered hand gripped your arm tightly in its clutches.

You let out a small cry of terror, instantly alerting Daryl to your horrifying predicament. However, as you struggled against the literal death grip of the monster, its teeth trying desperately to take a chunk of your flesh, you realized that you couldn’t wait for Daryl to come to your rescue. By the time he would have managed to make it towards the other side of the truck, you would already be doomed. You had to take matters into your own hands.

Shakily, you drew your hand that held the knife back and plunged it deep into the thing’s skull with a sickening force. The monster miraculously fell limp with the first blow, its hand falling from your arm. However, before you could fully process that you had just killed something that was once human, Daryl took your face in his hands and checked you over, his eyes filled with fear. You had never seen him with as much terror in his eyes ever before.

“Are ya okay?” he asked in a hurried manner, his voice shaky as his blue eyes searched your body for any signs of hurt or discomfort. “Please tell me the prick didn’t get ya. No bites, no scratches, nothin’.”

“I’m okay,” you assured him, watching him calm down somewhat. “But we have to leave. Right now.”

“Yeah, let’s g—”

The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed through the area, followed closely by the rumble of a motorcycle. When the motorcycle came into view, you were both simultaneously relieved and disappointed to see none other than Merle Dixon. He stopped his motorcycle once he saw you, an exasperated look on his face.

“Y’all jus’ gon’ stand there and get eaten or get in the fuckin’ truck? I did not risk my life gettin’ here jus’ to watch y’all become a mid-day snack.”

Daryl opened the door to the passenger side and quickly ushered you in, shouting over his shoulder at Merle. “What the fuck are ya even doin’ here?!”

“Helpin’ yer sorry ass!” Merle exclaimed, shooting at another oncoming monster. “C’mon, let’s go!”

Daryl did not need to be told twice. He rushed to the driver’s side and hurriedly got in, starting up his truck and speeding out of the parking area, following behind Merle’s motorcycle. With all the chaos that had unfolded, the two of you hadn’t even managed to go grab some clothes from your apartment. However, by some stroke of luck, as you glanced towards the back of the truck, you noted that two duffel bags were resting there, as well as a bag with everything needed to construct a tent, as well as Daryl’s crossbow. You thanked your lucky stars that the two of you had gone camping for his hunting trip two days prior, and forgot to remove everything from his truck. The clothes were dirty, sure, but once you found a body of water, you’d be able to wash them. And Daryl’s crossbow would more than likely come in handy.

“Are ya okay?” Daryl asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was nervously chewing on his thumbnail, his eyes darting between you and the road.

You nodded at him, trying to calm your racing thoughts. In a matter of thirty minutes, your life had flipped upside down. You had killed someone, whether they were dead or not. The blood from the kill coated your skin and made you feel sick at your actions, but you tried to remind yourself that the thing you killed was not human anymore. If you didn’t kill it, it would’ve killed you. It would’ve killed—

Gasping, you sat upright and clutched at your stomach. Daryl looked at you worriedly, his eyes trailing to your stomach. His eyes widened in terror, his grip on the steering wheel tightening even more, if that was even possible.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned in alarm. “Oh, god. S’somethin’ wrong with Peanut? Did those pricks—”

“No! No, nothing’s wrong,” you reassured him, your hand resting on your stomach. “It’s just... With everything going on, I forgot about the baby. I forgot about my own child, Daryl. What kind of future mother does that make me?”

Daryl moved one of his hands to rest on your thigh, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the fabric of your jeans. He sent you a small smile, hoping to bring you some comfort.

“S’okay,” he told you. “Yer not gon’ be a bad mom. With everythin’ goin’ on, yer body went into fight or flight mode. S’cause of it that ya managed to keep the baby in yer belly safe. And once they’re here, I know yer gon’ do yer absolute best to protect ‘em. They’ve got the best damn mama ever.”

One month had passed. One month since the dead had started walking. One month since everything you knew had gotten destroyed. One month since you had stumbled upon a quarry camp filled with other survivors with your husband and brother-in-law. One month since your life had been turned upside down.

“I hope so,” you mumbled, resting your hand that wasn’t on your stomach over his hand that rested on your thigh. “I really hope so.”

You sighed as you washed one of Daryl’s jeans, subtly listening to the other women making conversation, the women sitting quite a distance from you. Most of the ladies in the small camp you were in tended to keep their distance from you, deeming you damaged goods due to the people you were with. Well, more so because Merle was your brother in law. You and Daryl tended to keep to yourselves, with Daryl only speaking to others when absolutely necessary, but the same couldn’t be said for his hotheaded older brother. Merle had made quite the first impression on your fellow survivors, and not a good one. And automatically, by mere association, they had deemed you and Daryl the same. Most of the women simply referred to you as the archer’s girl, and you were pretty sure they didn’t even know your actual name.

Most of the women didn’t even bother acknowledging your existence most of the time. The only exception was a sweet woman named Carol Peletier, who offered you her kindness whenever she saw or spoke to you. She offered you advice on how to properly scrub stains from jeans, on how to fix up the holes in your husband’s socks, and so much more than that as well. She was the only one who you had felt comfortable enough sharing the secret of your pregnancy with, and even though she promised not to tell anyone, she silently offered you her support, and gave you advice regarding your pregnancy by telling you stories about her own pregnancy with little Sophia. Carol was your only true friend there, and you appreciated her on a profound level.

Without her, you probably would have snapped at the other women there for the judgemental looks they threw your way, so you deeply cherished the friendship you had formed with her.

The touch of a calloused yet gentle hand drew you from your thoughts. You looked up and locked eyes with your husband, his blue eyes staring down at you with a softness reserved only for you. You sent him a smile and dropped the pair of jeans you were washing on the ground, standing up to face him better.

“Ya know all’a that washin’ s’now ruined ‘cause ya dropped it in the mud, right?” he told you playfully, sending you a small smile.

You smiled and shrugged. “It’s your jeans. I’ve never heard you complain about a little mud on them before, considering those kills you have to skin that stained these jeans in the first place.”

Daryl chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, yer right,” he replied, before his smile fell and he adapted a more serious tone. “I have to go huntin’.”

“Again?” you asked incredulously, your mood visibly deflating. “You went on a hunt not even two days ago.”

“Yeah, I know,” Daryl said with a heavy sigh, fidgeting with his hands. “But that Shane prick demanded that I go on another hunt again for some reason. I dun’ know why, ‘cause we have enough meat to last us another week or so, but he threatened to throw us out’a the camp if I didn’t go now. We can’t leave. ‘Specially not now.”

Your lips formed into a small smile as Daryl’s eyes trailed down to your stomach, his eyes softening slightly as he thought about the life that fluttered there beyond the skin, the life that he had helped create. His very own son or daughter. A small being that he would go to great lengths to protect, even if they weren’t born yet. His little Peanut.

You stepped forward and pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek, before withdrawing again. You giggled at the blush that spread across his face, and you did not miss the way his lips twitched up into a small smile. He could say whatever he wanted, but he secretly loved your little public displays of affection. It was never something big, like some passionate kiss or a full-blown make out session or something along those lines. It was always something small and sweet, something quick to show your affection without drawing too much attention to the two of you. A subtle graze of your hand against his, quick pecks on the cheek, a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, you name it. You knew how to show him love in public without making him uncomfortable, and he loved you for it.

“How long will you be gone?” you asked, nervously fidgeting with your fingers.

Daryl noticed and subtly took your hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Ain’t no tellin’. Walsh demanded that I find some venison, and that might take me a while. Dun’ even know if there are any deer here.”

You pursed your lips and nodded. “Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

Daryl nodded. Stepping out of his own comfort zone, he leaned down and pressed a feathery light kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he gently caressed your cheek. “Always am. And I love ya more, Sweetheart.”

With that, he turned around and left, leaving you standing alone with the unfinished laundry. Watching his retreating figure, you smiled fondly, completely missing the envious looks the other women were sending your way.

They had not heard your conversation, the two of you being too far away to overhear anything, but they did see the way the archer interacted with you. It was so vastly different from the way he talked to anyone, including his own brother, his own flesh and blood. It was clear there was a lot of history between the two of you, good and bad, and it made the two of you a strong couple. From what Merle had let slip in his high state once, the two of you had been together since you were both merely seventeen years old, and by the looks of it, the two of you were still going strong. The two of you radiated love for one another, and that’s more than most could say about their own past relationships.

Three days had passed. Three days where Daryl was nowhere to be found. Three days where you had to deal with Merle’s disgusting attitude on your own. Three days where you had to sleep alone in your shared tent, wishing, praying that he was there beside you.

It was clear the two of you shared something special, a deep, profound bond that went beyond what the naked eye could see, and it felt unfair to them that they couldn’t find love like that. And with the world at its end, they doubted that they ever would be able to.

It seemed like Baby Dixon noticed their father’s absence, and they weren’t a fan of it. For the past three days, you had not managed to keep anything down in the depths of your stomach. Any and all food you ate came right back up again within a few hours, and it was not exactly pleasant. Thankfully, nobody saw you whenever you rushed to the bushes behind the RV to spew out the contents of your stomach, so nobody knew of your pregnancy just yet.

And you had Carol by your side whenever your stomach rebelled against you, so that was a major plus for you.

“God, I hate this so much,” you groaned in frustration, eliciting a laugh from the woman gently rubbing your back.

“It’s what comes with the joys of pregnancy,” she laughed lightly, continuing the circular motion on your back until you felt better. Once you stood upright, she handed you a bottle of water, encouraging you to drink as much as you needed to. “Drink up. You need to stay hydrated.”

Once you had enough to drink, you handed her the bottle again. “Thank you,” you thanked her, giving her a small smile. “How’d you handle it? The morning sickness, I mean.”

“I was lucky enough to only experience a mild case of morning sickness,” Carol explained, wrapping her arm around you and starting to walk with you back to the main campsite. “You know, and I’m not saying this to pressure you at all, but maybe you should tell everyone about your pregnancy. It would be good for Glenn to be on the lookout for prenatal vitamins.”

“I can’t,” you denied instantaneously. “Then everyone will look at me like I’m carrying the black plague and see me as just another liability. I can’t have that. Daryl and I can handle things on our own until we absolutely have to tell everyone.”

“Okay,” Carol replied, before shifting the conversation away from something that quite obviously stressed you out, and she knew that stress was not good for the baby. “I drank a lot of herbal teas when I was pregnant. That seemed to really work for the nausea.”

“Just great,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Where the fuck are we supposed to find that?”

Carol smiled and gently rubbed your shoulder. “I’ll see if Dale has some. I remember him mentioning something about ginger tea.”

“What if he asks why you need it?” you asked hurriedly with worry evident in your tone.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him,” she reassured you. “I’ll just tell him I’m feeling nauseous. That something I ate isn’t corresponding with my stomach. Trust me, he’ll believe it.”

You sent her a smile. “Thanks, Carol. I mean it.”

She smiled at you before disappearing into the RV, on a search for Dale. You stood waiting outside, staring ahead at the treeline. You hoped that by continuously looking at it, your husband would appear from the trees with a deer over his shoulders, dirty but unharmed. Alas, as you had learned over the last few days that has passed, that did not work, and you wished you could go out there and look for him yourself, but you knew he’d be beyond mad if you did.

No, your main priority was your baby at that moment. Your husband had shown time and time again that he could take care of himself, so you chose to believe that he would be fine. You had to believe that, otherwise you would spiral into an abyss you did not want to go down.

The feeling of somebody standing next to you startled you. You stumbled and nearly fell, but the hands of the mystery person caught you. Looking up, you locked eyes with the self-appointed leader of the group, Shane Walsh. His brown eyes were staring down at you, a small grin on his face.

“Sorry, girl. Didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized, slightly rubbing your arms.

“What’s your story, lady?” he asked curiosly, leaning back against the metal of the RV, his eyes trailing over you in a way you did not like.

Feeling extremely uncomfortable, you shrugged his hands from your arms and took a step back, putting some distance between the two of you. You sent him a tight-lipped smile. “It’s okay,” you replied, hoping that he would end the conversation with that. However, the man had other plans.

“My story?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “What’s a pretty girl like yourself doing with a low life nothing like Daryl Dixon? I mean, you could have anyone you want, but you chose him, the good-for-nothing redneck. Why?”

“Because I love him,” you stated matter-of-factly, sending him a harsh glare that only seemed to spur him on even more.

“Bullshit. There’s gotta be something to it,” he disagreed, chuckling at the glare on your face. “There’s no way that a guy like that managed to pull someone like you. It goes against all the laws of the universe. So tell me, what’s he got to offer? Is he paying you? Are you some prostitute he keeps around for his own pleasure or something? You certainly look pretty enough to have a guy pay you for something like that.”

Before you could stutter out an angry reply to Shane’s deeply offensive, deprecating accusation, a hand gently gripped your shoulder and pulled you aside. Looking up, you saw Daryl, an angry look in his eyes. Without a word, he stepped forward and viciously connected his fist with Shane’s nose, hearing the satisfying crack of the bone there.

“Son of a bitch!” Shane exclaimed, bending over to clutch his nose in his hands. “What the fuck, Dixon?!”

Daryl gripped Shane by the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the side of the RV, a threatening glare on his face. Terror filled Shane’s eyes, something unusual for the for the former sherrif’s deputy. Everyone started gathering around the fighting pair, and Carol, who had rushed from the RV once she had heard the commotion, pulled you back from the battle ground, holding you firmly against her side.

“Listen’a me real fuckin’ close, Walsh,” Daryl spat angrily, his voice dangerously low. “I dun’ care what ya say ‘bout me, but if ya ever talk ‘bout my pregnant wife like that again, I’ll do so much worse than jus’ break yer nose. Ya dun’ talk to her, ya dun’ look at her, ya dun’ even breathe the same fuckin’ air as her. If ya do, I’ll skin ya alive and feed the remainin’ pieces of ya to the walkers. Do I make myself clear?”

“Fuck you,” Shane groaned out.

“Yer venison’s on the table. Next time, go hunt for it yer fuckin’ self.”

Without waiting for a response, Daryl shoved Shane harshly and turned around, meeting your eyes. Instead of finding fear in your eyes from his actions, he found adoration instead. You stepped out of Carol’s hold and took Daryl’s hand in your own, dragging him to your shared tent. You didn’t even spare a glance at the people, so you missed the way all of their eyes widened at the realization that you were pregnant, that they had been unnecessarily rude to a pregnant lady that had done absolutely nothing wrong to them. They had been harsh to an expecting mother and father, and for no reason at all. Everyone felt guilty, but the groan that Shane emitted caught their attention once again.

“I’m not mad, you know,” you finally broke the silence, watching the way his ocean-coloured eyes flickered over to you, the confusion evident in them. “Shane got what he deserved. Quite honestly, I planned on punching him, too. You just beat me to it.”

Back in your shared tent with Daryl, you were stood busy, gently cleaning the blood from his split knuckles whilst the man sat on the cot. Daryl was avoiding your eyes, feeling ashamed of his actions. In all the years that you had been together, you had only seen him lash out like that once—one time when you were drinking together in a bar when you were twenty-four, a guy had grabbed your breast without your consent, and Daryl had completely lost it. After that, he swore he would never act like that around you ever again, but Shane had made him break that promise.

“M’sorry,” Daryl mumbled, ducking his gaze to the floor. “I know ya can fight yer own battles. S’jus’... Hearin’ the way he talked ‘bout ya, like ya were some object whose worth he could judge... I dun’ know. It made me pissed. Ya dun’ deserve to be treated like that, ‘specially not when yer carryin’ a baby in yer belly.” He sighed and placed his good hand on your stomach. “Speakin’ of, m’sorry I revealed that yer pregnant. I know ya wanted to keep that hidden for as long as possible.”

You smiled and gently lifted his chin with your finger, gazing deeply into his eyes. “It’s okay. They would’ve found out eventually,” you told him, gently cupping his cheek. “Look at you, always so considerate about everyone else except yourself. You’re amazing, Daryl Dixon.”

Daryl blushed. “Yer the amazin’ one,” he countered, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your stomach. He placed a small kiss to the clothed skin. “Peanut’s gon’ have one hell of a mama.”

“And one hell of a daddy,” you replied, bringing one of your hands to thread through his hair. “I love you, Daryl.”

“Love ya more, Peach,” Daryl murmured, closing his eyes at the comforting feeling, his head still resting against your stomach. “Love ya too, Peanut,” he whispered to your belly, and it made you smile.

The serene moment was soon interrupted. The soft calling from Carol grabbed your attention, and you giggled at the groan Daryl let out.

“Y/N?” she called out. “I’ve got that ginger tea I promised you.”

“Ginger tea?” Daryl questioned, looking up at you.

“Yeah. I got a bunch of morning sickness without you around for some reason. It seems like Baby Dixon doesn’t like it when their daddy’s not here.”

“Good,” Daryl chuckled, rubbing your stomach affectionately. “Then I guess ya won’t mind if I stick ‘round.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, pretending to think about it before letting out a light giggle. “I guess I’ll keep you around.”

“That’s real good to hear.”

Before you could respond, you heard the bellowing voice of your brother-in-law. You groaned in frustration, praying that Carol had gotten out of the line of fire, because your tent was about to become a war ground.

“When the fuck were ya plannin’ on tellin’ me ya got that lil’ whore’a yers pregnant?”

Daryl visibly tensed up at his brother’s words, anger flaring up in his eyes, and you knew that another beating was about to commence. “The fuck did ya jus’ say, Merle?!”

“Ya heard me, boy.”

God, you hated Merle with a fiery passion, and you doubted that it would ever change. But you loved Daryl, and you knew that as long as you had him by your side, you could face anything.

Yeah, your little Peanut was gonna have the best father ever.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Six Times Toto Pushed His Luck (Part1)

Part 2

word count: 888

Pairing: Toto Wolff x wife reader

Summary: When Toto Wolff's antics push his wife to the brink, she resorts to calling him by his full name, "Torger," reminding him who's really in charge in their playful yet loving relationship.

______________________________________________________________

You never really called him by his full first name. Toto was just easier, softer, and it fit him—most of the time. But sometimes, just sometimes, he pushed you to the edge, and then ‘Toto’ wasn’t enough. That’s when ‘Torger’ came out, a signal that he was skating on thin ice. And on very rare, very special occasions, when things were absolutely out of control, it became ‘Torger Christian Wolff.’

1. Monaco Apartment - Breakfast Disaster

It started off as a calm morning in Monaco, the sunlight streaming into your apartment. You’d barely woken up when you heard the clattering of pots and pans in the kitchen. Toto’s cooking. You sighed, knowing exactly where this was headed.

As you entered the kitchen, you were greeted by the sight of him attempting to scramble eggs in the smallest pan possible. Half of the eggs were sticking to the pan, the other half still runny, and he had the heat turned up too high.

“Toto,” you began gently, “maybe I should—”

“I’ve got this,” he said, his voice confident.

Seconds later, the eggs flipped awkwardly, some landing on the stove, some… on the floor. You pinched the bridge of your nose, exasperated.

“Torger,” you finally said, crossing your arms. “You need to stop before we end up with a fire.”

He froze, the name cutting through his concentration. “Torger? It’s not that bad.”

“Torger. Step away from the stove.”

2. Silverstone Garage - Headphones Drama

Silverstone was in full swing, the race just as intense as you expected. Things weren’t going Mercedes’ way, and you could feel Toto’s frustration brewing from across the garage. Then, as if on cue, it happened—the dramatic slamming of the headphones. He ripped them off his head and threw them down onto the table in one swift, angry motion.

You sighed. How many pairs had he gone through this season? Too many to count.

“Torger,” you said, louder than usual to cut through the tension. “If you break one more pair of headphones…”

He looked at you with raised eyebrows. “Torger?”

“Yes. Torger. Those things are expensive, and you’re going to run out at this rate.”

He chuckled, the tension easing a bit. “Alright, alright. I’ll be gentler.”

3. Vienna - The Overpacking Incident

Packing for a quick weekend trip to Vienna should have been simple. Should have been. But when Toto decided to take the lead, you knew you were in for trouble. You opened the suitcase and stared in disbelief. There were four pairs of shoes, multiple shirts, and enough clothes to last a month.

“Torger,” you called from the bedroom. “Come here.”

He appeared in the doorway, clearly proud of his work. “I packed for us.”

You pointed at the suitcase. “Torger, why are there four pairs of shoes? We’re gone for two days!”

“I thought options would be good.”

“Torger, we don’t need options. We need space. Unpack this now.”

4. The Paddock - PDA Overload

The paddock was bustling, as usual, cameras and fans everywhere. You and Toto were walking through when, out of nowhere, he decided it was the perfect moment for an over-the-top kiss. In front of everyone. The photographers snapped away, and you could practically feel the internet lighting up with memes.

“Toto,” you whispered, trying to pull away.

“What?” he asked, his grin devilish.

You shot him a look, but he leaned in again, clearly enjoying himself. That’s when you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Torger. Not in front of everyone!”

He laughed, finally pulling back. “What? Can’t I show my wife some affection?”

“Torger, not when the whole grid is watching.”

5. Home Gym - The Training Competition

One of Toto’s favorite pastimes was working out, and today, he had challenged you to a little ‘friendly’ competition. At first, it was fun—some light weights, a few squats—but as the session went on, his competitive side started showing. He kept pushing, adding more weights and insisting on extra rounds.

By the time you were on your third set of squats, you’d had enough. Your legs felt like jelly, and he was still going strong.

“Torger,” you panted, dropping the weights. “I’m not a Formula 1 driver. This is insane.”

“One more set,” he said, completely ignoring the exhaustion in your voice.

“Torger,” you warned, “if you make me do one more squat, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

He chuckled, finally letting you off the hook. “Fine, fine. You win.”

6. Baku - The Meltdown

Baku was not going well. The race had been a disaster, and Toto’s mood was even worse. He spent the entire evening pacing, ranting about strategies, tires, and everything that had gone wrong. You had tried to calm him down, but nothing worked.

Finally, he stormed into the hotel room, still mid-rant, and that was when you’d had enough.

“Torger Christian Wolff,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you’d ever intended.

He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide. You never used his full name unless you were seriously upset.

“You need to stop this. It’s done, the race is over. Either calm down or I’m calling Christian Horner to tell him you need a break.”

Toto blinked, stunned. “You wouldn’t…”

“Try me, Torger Christian.”

He stared at you for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. “Alright, I’ll stop.”

“Good.”

[wolvietxt]

ᰔ period comfort w/ logan howlett !

a/n : vv old little drabble :3 wanted to put some logan content out!

logan had never really thought much about what it’d be like to be with someone during their period. it wasn’t something that came up often in his world, and to be honest, he’d never really had anyone in his life long enough to consider it. but things were different with you, and when he noticed the subtle shift in your mood one day, he couldn’t ignore it. the signs were there - you weren’t your usual sunny self, and your quiet, withdrawn nature told him enough.

at first, it took him a minute to figure out what was going on. you were usually talkative, always making light of things, but now, you seemed distant, your smiles a little more strained. he wasn’t an expert on feelings, but he knew something was off. logan had a way of observing, of picking up on small details, even if he didn’t always know how to deal with them.

when he realized what was going on, the thought of how to handle it made him pause. it was the kind of thing that made him second-guess his usual gruffness. his first instinct was to give you space, but there was a part of him that felt the need to care for you, to make sure you were okay, even if he wasn’t sure how.

"you feeling alright?" he asked one evening, his voice a little softer than usual, though he tried not to show it. he was sitting beside you on the couch, his arm around the backrest, not quite touching you but close enough to reach if you needed him.

you gave him a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. "just tired," you muttered, pulling the blanket around yourself a little tighter. he could tell by the way you curled in on yourself that something more was going on. logan didn’t pry much, but he wasn’t an idiot either. he’d seen this before in the few women he’d been around - those signs of discomfort and pain.

if it had been anyone else, he might have just left it alone. but with you, it was different. he didn’t like seeing you like this. he wanted to help, but he had no clue what to do. all he knew was that he wanted to make sure you weren’t suffering alone.

the next day, after training, he showed up in your room with a small bag of supplies - he wasn’t sure exactly what you needed, but he’d figured out that chocolate, tea, and some comfortable clothes might help. he didn’t say much as he handed them to you, just a quiet grunt of acknowledgment. "thought you might want these," he muttered, trying to play it off like it was no big deal, though he couldn’t help the faint tug of worry in his chest.

you looked up, surprised but grateful. your eyes softened as you took the items from him, and he saw you smile for real this time. "thank you," you whispered, voice quiet but sincere. he nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line.

he hadn’t expected much in return, but when you asked if he’d sit with you, his heart gave a soft lurch. sitting still, being quiet, that wasn’t his strong suit, but for you, he’d try. so he pulled a chair closer and sat next to you, not saying much. just being there. sometimes that was all you needed, he’d realized.

over the next few days, he learned the rhythm of what you needed. some days, he’d find you curled up in bed, too drained to do much else. on those days, he’d make sure to have everything ready - tea, snacks, and sometimes just a warm blanket and a place to sit in silence. he wouldn’t press you for anything, just making sure you knew he was there. he’d sit beside you, occasionally offering a gentle squeeze of your hand or a quiet “you good?” but he never made it awkward. he didn’t need to say much. the small acts of care spoke louder than words ever could.

on the days when you felt a bit better, logan found himself doing things to make you laugh. he’d make stupid jokes or show you funny videos from his phone, trying to distract you from the discomfort. his usual gruff exterior softened, and he found that he didn’t mind. he liked seeing you smile, even if it was a small one.

but it wasn’t just the physical care he’d learned to offer. logan had also become more attuned to your emotions during this time. he noticed when you were quieter than usual, when your eyes looked a little more tired or when the weight of everything seemed to settle a little too heavily on your shoulders. and without asking, he’d find ways to lift that burden, whether it was just holding you a little tighter or giving you more space if you needed it.

there were still moments when he wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing, moments when he felt a little out of his depth. but with you, he wanted to be better. he didn’t want to just stand by and watch you suffer in silence. he wanted to help, to make sure that even in your weakest moments, you didn’t feel alone. and that, in itself, felt like the least he could do for you.

🌀 logan howlett : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen

@lemoanaid, @correnz, @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @ohmystvrk, @y08h

@lovely-liliacs, @california-boys-and-sun

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[aesthetixhoe]

warnings: cursing, thigh riding, soft!dom! ethan, inexperienced!sub! reader, fem!reader, possessive ethan, slight corruption kink, dirty talk, lots of praise, hints of subspace

CURRENTLY THINKING ABOUT

slightly experienced!ethan with an inexperienced!reader.

You were in his lap, hand tangled in his hair, lips interlocked, his hands on your hips, slowly migrating towards your ass. When they finally land and grips your ass you gasp slightly in his mouth.

His hips buck up, making you whimper.

“Are you ok with this? I really like where this is going but I want to make sure you're ok with it too.” He looks up at you breathless with need in his eyes.

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you look into his eyes. You nod softly. “I'm ok... I just...”

“Sweetheart, if you're not alright we don't have to do anything, I promise. I want you to be sure before we do anything.” He grabs your hand and runs his thumb over your knuckle comfortingly.

“I've never done this...” You look down at his hands stroking yours.

“You've never been touched by someone else?” He asks, joining your eyes on both of your guys' hands.

“No, Ethan... I've never done anything. Not even by myself...” You speak even softer than before. He hooks his thumb and finger around your chin, lifting your head up so your eyes meet his.

“Baby, are you saying you've never came before?” His question is less condescending than you expected. Everyone else you've revealed the fact to has lost their minds over it. You nod your head softly. “And you want to?” He asks for reassurance, and you respond again with the same head movement.

His lips go back to yours with a new found fervor. It was like the idea of him being the first person to ever make you cum drove him wild.

“If I do something too far just tell me and I'll stop ok?” You nod again. “I need words sweetheart.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Yes.” You know you're turned on, you've felt it before, especially around Ethan, but you don't know how to act on it. “What do I do?” You question quietly.

“Just relax and do what feels right baby. Here, move your hips a little.” His hands fall and grips the meat of your hips, dragging them up and down his thigh slowly. You sigh and your head moves to lay on his shoulder. The friction of your clothing up against your clit makes your body heat up and your breath gets shallower. “Feel good?” He asks, checking in.

You whine an ‘mhm’ into his ear. With the confirmation he speeds his hands up, making you gasp. “Oh god, E...” You moan, muffling yourself into his neck.

He leans back, stopping the motion of your hips. “Nuh uh beautiful, wanna hear you.”

“‘M sorry, was scared I sounded bad...” You whisper. You've never done this before and the insecurity was coming out.

“Oh no baby, I wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make alright?”

“Yes sir.” His hips buck up. Holy shit. While Ethan was more experienced than you, he had still never been called sir. He might explode.

“Fuck baby, like it when you call me that. Can't wait to feel you one day, gonna feel so good wrapped around me.” His grip on you gets tighter and the pace of your hips speed up. You can feel your stomach starting to get tighter and your head falls backwards, exposing your neck to Ethan. He jumps on the opportunity to mark the area. “Gonna mark you up, love. You'll have to show everyone you're mine. Show everyone who makes you feel good. Who is it huh?” He says in between kisses to your neck, and after asking the final question he sucks on the expanse of your neck.

“You!” You moan, “Fuck, you Ethan. You're making me feel good. So good. I- feels weird.” Your hips stutter, unsure of if this is the feeling everyone talks about.

Ethan pulls back, looking into your eyes “No baby, don't stop, it's ok. Keep going, you're gonna cum.” He speeds your hips up again. Your head falls forward onto his chest. There's nothing in your brain, you feel like you can't speak anymore, all you can feel is Ethan and the friction between your legs. It's all too much but not enough.

Your thighs squeeze together unintentionally, but it adds the cherry on top for what you need to cum. Ethan catches on and tenses his thigh muscle. “Gon... Gonna- E- f-fuck-”

“It's ok baby, let go, cum for me.”

[bloodibambiidoll]

Pour Some Sugar On Me

(Older!Alpha Eddie x Omega!Reader)

Summary: It’s been four months since you’ve been mated to Eddie in secret. When he takes you to “Lovers Lake” for a picnic and tells you he’s never hooked up there, it’s only right that you remedy that. WK: 1.8K

Warnings: General Omegaverse behaviors, scenting, knotting, biting, unprotected sex, outside sex, pet names, a whole lotta gushy mushy fluff. No physical descriptions of reader besides her outfit but she does have the nickname “sugar” 18+MNDI!

A/N: SURPISEEE SHAWTY!! I know it’s been a minute since I posted a ST fic but I randomly got the spark to write this today! This is set in the middle of Everlasting Sweeheart before Sugar’s dad finds out about them. Older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple.

You’ve been seeing Eddie in secret for about four months now and it couldn’t be more perfect. Aside from the fact that it was a secret. It was hard, having to hide your mate from everyone in your life. The only person you’ve told is your childhood best friend but she lives states away. A few of your employees asked about your mark and you brushed them off, not wanting to go into details. You haven’t seen your dad since that day at the shop, the day you realized that Eddie worked for him. You missed him, and you hate sneaking around behind his back. Even though it was your idea to wait, you were ready to tell him. But your mate? He wasn’t quite there yet. So you decided not to push him for now and to just enjoy your little bubble.

Today Eddie has something “special” planned for the two of you but refuses to tell you where you’re going. He does this with every date, plans something elaborate or something as simple as a movie night at home. But it was always romantic. He put a lot of thought into these dates and it made sneaking around infinitely easier on you. On those days, it feels everything and everyone but you and Eddie cease to exist.

“Alright sugar pie, you ready?” Eddie yells down the hall, you made him leave the room so you could get ready because you had a little surprise of your own. He didn’t tell you where you were going, but he at least told you that you were riding on his bike and not in one of his cars. So you’d know what to wear. And it just so happened you had the perfect outfit.

Thus far he's only seen your softer side, your little mini dresses and Mary Jane’s with ribbons tied in your hair. Which was great for when you worked at the bakery, comfy shoes, easy movement, kept your hair out of your face. But there’s a whole other side to you he has yet to discover. You were raised by a biker, after all. You look at yourself in the mirror and smirk. You had even styled your hair differently and your make up was darker than your everyday look. Eddie was going to shit.

“Yeah baby, I’m ready.” You exit the room and Eddie’s jaw literally drops and his keys that were dangling from his fingers fall to the ground.

“Sugar… you look…” his eyes roam your figure, drinking in every inch, every detail. The glossy leather of your thigh high platform boots. The little black ripped jean shorts. The tiny little white tank top. And last but not least? You’re wearing a fucking leather battle jacket. “Wow. You look so fucking sexy. Did you get new clothes?”

“Nah. This is stuff I’ve had forever. I actually started this jacket back in highschool and have gradually added to or changed it. I feel like you’re forgetting who my dad is, Eddie bear. Have you ever looked in my closet? There’s more to me than you think.” You approach him, running your cherry red fingernail along his jaw, causing him to shiver under your touch.

“You’re telling me my little sugar girl has a bad ass rocker side I don’t even know about?” He grips your hips in his large ringed hands, pulling your body taunt against his.

“Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out.” You pull back, shooting him a wink. “You ready to go or are you gonna stand here and ogle me all night?”

“Oh baby, I’m gonna ogle you alright… but, I’m ready to go.” He gives your butt a little pat before leaning down to pick up his keys. “Come on, get your sexy ass out the door.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going. You don’t have to be pushy.” You tease, giggling as you connect his lips to yours.

Eddie drove his bike to the edge of town, turning down a dirt road and stopping when he reached the lake he apparently nicknamed “lovers lake”. He had a whole picnic packed tightly in the seat compartment of his motorcycle with all your favorite foods and treats. He even brought little candles and wine.

“This is nice Eddie, it’s really pretty here.” Your head is resting on his shoulder and you smile up at him sweetly.

“Yeah? I’m glad baby. Used to come out here in highschool in my van. Open up the back and just smoke and think, enjoy the silence. Figured it would be nice.” He smooths a hand over your hair before cupping your cheek, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

“All by yourself? You didn’t bring any girls out here? That’s why they call it lovers lake, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him playfully.

“Ha! No, definitely didn’t bring any girls out here. Teenage Eddie wasn’t very popular with the ladies.”

“Hmm… that’s too bad, seems like a nice place to get your guts rearranged by a hot metal head, if you ask me.” You rest a hand on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

That’s how you ended up where you are now, bent over Eddie’s bike, your shorts discarded on the ground somewhere, panties pushed to the side and his tongue buried as deep inside you as possible. He insisted you keep the boots and the jacket on because it was “really doing it for him”.

“Fuck baby, you always taste so sweet.” Eddie mumbles against your core, the vibrations causing you to moan out. His skilled tongue pushes you closer to the edge with each passing second. He leans down to take your clit between his lips as his thick digits circle your entrance. He starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right so they brush against your sweet spot with each stroke. It has you seeing stars, your pussy clenching so tightly around his fingers he feels like they’re going to get pushed out.

“Oh my god! Fuck, Eddie! Feels so fucking good, you always make me cum so good. Want your cock.”

“Don’t worry sugar, I’m not fucking done with you yet.” You hear the sound of his belt, followed by his zipper. He pushes his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, taking it in his hand and running it through your slick folds. “How bad do you want it?”

“So bad alpha, want your knot.” You whimper as you push back against him. He pushes into you in one breath taking thrust.

“Ah fuck, you’re always so god damn tight.” Eddie pushes his hips flush against yours, his tip brushing against your sweet spot. His hands grip onto your ass, the cool night air making his rings cold against your skin. He squeezes the flesh of your cheeks while he starts to rock into you slow and deep, teasing you.

“Eddie, faster, please, go faster.” You bounce back against him, your ass jiggling deliciously in his tattooed hands.

“Yeah? My pretty girl wants it faster?” He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside you, the sound of his hips clapping against your ass echoing through the trees. He starts to fuck into you hard and fast, your upper half resting against the plush bike seat and the tips of your boot clad feet are the only thing touching the ground.

“Mmm alpha, I need your cum. Need your knot. You make me feel so fucking full.”

Eddie leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, making his cock thrust even deeper inside you. One of his hands snakes around you to rub your clit while he brings his lips to your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses along the expanse of your throat. He shoves his nose into your scent gland and inhales, your sugary sweet scent sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“You smell so fucking good omega. My omega. My sweet girl.” He nips at the skin of your neck before biting down, latching his teeth to your skin. It’s all too much. It all feels too good. The speed of the circles on your clit increases and that’s all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge.

“Ohmygod! Eddieeee, mmm fuck.” He fucks you through it before leaning up off of you to chase his own high.

“This pussy’s so fucking good. Tastes so sweet. Sucks me in so good. So tight. Fucking made for me.” His eyes don’t know where to settle, his thick cock disappearing into your creamy walls over and over again. The way your back is curved from how you’re bent over his bike. The way those fucking boots hug the top of your thighs.

“Give your cum alpha, fuck a pup into me.”

“Oh god.” His hips slap hard against yours a few more times before he’s pushing them flush against your ass, filling you with ropes of his cum. His knot starts to swell inside you and he goes to pull out so you aren’t stuck in this awkward position until it goes down but you just hook your leg around his, keeping him in place.

“No, I want your knot, Eddie. I’ll stay like this all night just to have it.”

“Jesus Christ.” You let out a little whimper that turns into a loud moan as his knot pops inside you. The feeling sending you into another mind blowing orgasm. Eddie leans his chest down against you again so he can leave loving little pecks against your cheek and rub his nose against your throat.

“That was so fucking hot.” You giggle, reaching behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Yeah, it was, but now we’re stuck like this. So I’m gonna need you to stop laughing or we are going to be stuck here all night.” Eddie chuckles as he leans into your touch.

“Just fall back on your ass, it’ll be fine.”

He leans up, gripping your hips as he lets his ass fall back onto the ground. He lands with you on top of his lap with a gentle thud.

“Guess this isn’t so bad.” Eddie cups your cheek, turning your head to the side so he can connect your lips in a passionate kiss. No matter how many times he kisses you like this you think it’ll still make a bomb filled with butterflies go off in your stomach.

“So… how was your first lovers lake hookup?”

“World altering. Wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else. I love you, sugar.”

“I love you too Eddie, so much.” You giggle fondly, taking his face in your hand.

“You’ve seriously gotta stop with that cute ass giggling or I’m just gonna have to fuck you again.”

“Maybe that’s what I want?” You raise a challenging eyebrow at him, a smirk spread across your lips.

“Ohhh you’re in for it now.” He grabs your hips, manhandling you onto your hands and knees with his knot still inside you. “I can stay here all night.”

Taglist: @eddiesxangel @bimbobaggins69 @fairymunson @artistwhodoesntpost @witchyhippysstuff @djoseph-quinn @freak-of-hawkins

[crescent-blades]

Hello! Could I please request some headcanons of how Kokushibo would be as a father? (Psst im the same anon that requested foe yoriichi) i just loved your writing and i was hoping if you could write the same for koku! I hope it is alright, thank you <3

Father!Kokushibo | Part 1

Pairings⌇Kokushibō and his child [c/n], & Kokushibō × wife!Reader. Warnings⌇Mentions of killing/hunting humans.

A/N⌇Sure anon, I am glad you enjoyed it ^^. I hope you enjoy this one just as much!

𖤐ˎˊMasterlist

▪︎Kokushibō may present himself as a stoic father, seemingly cold and unapproachable. But deep down, there would lie a deep affection for his child, even if he may not outwardly show it.

▪︎Being centuries old, living through countless battles and having endured countless battles and fights with a heart of stone in this harsh world, Kokushibō surprisingly had a tender side when it came to his child.

▪︎It was something he himself wouldn't have expected; starting a family was the last thing on his mind, yet here he was, nurturing and providing for both you and your little one.

▪︎Although Kokushibō seemed somewhat hesitant, he genuinely seemed relish the moments spent conversing with your baby. ▪︎ Tenderly holding the infant in his arms, cradling them and taking them to small walks, showing them the world outside.

▪︎You had observed numerous parents engaging in conversation with their infants, so it wasn't shocking for Kokushibo wanting to do the same. ▪︎What caught you off guard was how, unlike other parents who used a sweet tone and "baby talk" with their infants, your husband actually talked with your baby as if they were colleagues in a business meeting. His tone was softer, but his way of communicating remained serious—

"The demons are becoming less formidable compared to their previous state, they resemble nothing more than untamed beasts.. Is it not regrettable, c/n?"

*cue baby noises*

▪︎Considering that your child was a half-demon, they would require human flesh to survive. For that, Kokushibō would seek out the finest humans, providing only the most exquisite flesh for his offspring. ▪︎In fact, he would also bring Marechi, as it posed no challenge for someone of his caliber. Occasionally, he would even bring the blood of an upper moon, ensuring the very best for his little one.

▪︎At night, when he takes on the responsibilities as the uppermoon one, he often has many obligations that keep him away. However, he will ensure that you and the baby are safe in secure quarters, under his watchful protection. ▪︎As a father and a husband, Kokushibō is incredibly devoted and protective of those he loves.

▪︎Soon, time would fly by, and your little one would soon transition from a baby to a child. You would notice Kokushibō becoming increasingly composed and even a bit stricter than they were in their infancy.

▪︎Kokushibō would have gotten clothes tailored specifically for them; the patterns would be similar to his own to symbolise that they were his child, along with a matching ponytail to his. [If the child happened to be a girl, I imagine her hairstyle resembling that of Uta or Akeno (his mother) as in a low ponytail, but ultimately, I think that would be up to you.]

▪︎It was a family legacy of his, amd although he had left it all behind long ago, the customs and values remained deeply ingrained in him.

▪︎Kokushibō would definitely introduce his child to the basics of swordsmanship early on, including a basic stance and how to correctly hold a katana.

▪︎And if the child happened to be interested in the art of the sword and aspired to be a samurai, he would undoubtedly feel a swell of pride in his heart. ▪︎ After all, it was only natural for them, being of his lineage, to be drawn to the art of wielding a sword.

[cottonlemonade]

Six And A Half Minutes [part 3]

word count: 1850 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: University!AU Suna x chubby!Reader

genre: smut - and lots of it, smidgen of angst, friends to lovers

warnings: mdni, nsfw, swearing, mentions of insecurities, more loving degradation, horny love drunk Suna

[part 1] [part 2]

It took a couple of seconds for his words to register. Your head was still swimming from your climax and the taste of his cock fresh on your tongue.

“You don’t have to, you know.”, you said finally, nervously kneading your hands in your lap again.

“Don’t get all fucking cute and shy after what you just did. I can only take so much.”, Rin frowned with a smile, softer than you’d ever seen, “C’mon.”

He got off the couch, staggering for a moment before regaining his balance, and then stretched his hand out to you.

Of course you had been in his room countless times, had commented on the messiness of clothes strewn about and teased him how he even managed to get girls into his bed. Well.

You lay back on his sheets, very very aware that your best friend hovered half naked above you and you were caged between his arms and thighs.

“First things first.”, he said matter of factly and leaned down. You half expected him to go back to sucking on your nipples but instead he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss turned from sweet to sloppy and you felt his hand slide down your side to your pajama shorts. Rintarou made quick work of them, flinging them into some dark corner of his room and then began teasing your clit through your panties. He grinned when he felt how drenched you were and you moaned into his mouth.

Your shirt and bra swiftly followed your shorts and he scooted down, making sure to get some more licks and sucks in at your breasts and came to kneel before you on the bed.

“You gotta spread your legs a bit further, alright?”

His casual tone made you squirm a little and you were sure Rin could feel the new surge of juices soaking through your panties.

You did as you were told.

He almost drooled when he peeled the fabric to the side and saw your glistening puffy pussy lips just begging to be devoured. He couldn’t wait to fuck you but all in good time.

You let out a loud moan when his tongue swiped through your folds the first time. He wrapped his arms around your plush thighs to keep you in place as he continued, tracing circles around your sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue. His recently spent cock hardened again in his pants and he ever so slightly moved his hips against his bed for some friction.

Fuck, he could taste you for hours. The room was quiet except him slurping, sucking and kissing your pussy like he had never tasted anything so delicious. He was completely drunk on you, reveling in your sounds and squirms. He wanted to kill that bastard that dared to cheat on you when he had the most heavenly pussy right there in front of him. But then again, maybe he should thank him actually. Rintarou sighed at your sweetness.

Letting go of one of your thighs he brought two fingers to your mouth. “Can you get those nice and wet for me, baby?” His eyes were filled with the same hunger as before, setting softer kisses on your clit for a short break while you complied and sucked his fingers into your mouth.

“That’s it. You’re doing great…”

You shivered for a moment when he used the newly slicked fingers to tease your hard nipples for a second. He chuckled against your pussy, closing his eyes in bliss again when he lay his tongue flat against your folds.

“Now, let’s see how long it takes for you to be begging to cum, hm?”

As it turned out, not long at all. He really hadn’t exaggerated when he said he was good with his fingers and tongue.

When his long fingers entered your still dripping pussy you were sure you would pass out. His lips latched to your swollen clit, he slowly began to fuck you with his fingers, picking up the pace every couple of tongue swipes.

Your juices ran down the back of his hand - a waste in his opinion. He held onto you tighter, nibbling your clit now as his fingers quickly darted in and out, before keeping them inside you, curling and scissoring.

You covered your mouth with your hand, arching your back.

“Nono, none of that. Let me hear you.”, he panted, replacing his tongue on your clit momentarily with his calloused thumb, “Go on, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Mmh! Fuck, Rin - oh my god, don’t stop - don’t ever stop! Please, I need to cum.”

He almost nutted in his sweats at your desperation.

He kept his tongue on your cunt through your orgasm, slowing his finger fucking again.

“You think, my pretty little slut can take my cock next?”, he said in a low voice, pulling his fingers out of you, examining the little strands of cum forming between them with interest.

He took off his sweats and knelt between your legs, his hard cock lined up with your sensitive pussy, still pulsing from your last orgasm. Wiping your cum on his cock made him twitch in anticipation.

“Look at me. You ready?”

Instead of a reply, since words did not seem to form currently, you just spread your legs a little further.

“Fuck, you’re incredible.”

For a few strokes he let his cock just glide through your folds, coating it well in your juices, then slowly pushed into you.

“Shit, nngh, relax a bit more, alright? Or I won't be able to fit... Fuck, you’re tight.”

Muttering sweet compliments he bullied his cock further and further into you. When he finally bottomed out, he guided your legs around his waist and leaned down to take your hard nipples into his mouth again. He couldn’t get enough of you. He let you get used to the feeling of him filling your cute little cunt while he happily licked and sucked more hickeys into your skin.

“You can fuck me now.”, you said quietly after a few minutes of slow deep kisses, just enjoying the feeling of his cock inside of you and Rin was close to proposing on the spot.

“As you wish.”

One arm used to propping himself up, the free hand grabbing onto your waist he began to move.

Waking up the next morning, Rin was confused to find the other side of his bed empty. He sat up and looked around the room now illuminated by the early morning. Dust danced in the gray sun beams.

“Y/n?”, he called, getting more confused by the second. Your discarded clothes were also gone. Just then he heard the door open and you stepped inside. Seemingly having just come out of the bathroom, you were dressed in your comfortable pajamas again. Rintarou clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Why are you dressed?”, and not even waiting for a reply he added, “Come back to bed.”

He lifted the blanket and in the dim morning light you caught a glimpse of his magnificent naked body as he patted the spot next to him, “C’mon, it’s getting cold.”

You stepped closer to the bed and were pulled into his arms, your back against his warm chest.

He hummed sleepily, then muttered, “Too many clothes.”

Soon his hand found its way under your shirt and began to caress your tummy and breasts.

“Lift your leg a little, baby.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”, he said simply, kissing your neck.

You let him lift your leg ever so slightly and a moment later felt him slide his half hard cock between your thighs. You gasped when he pulled your pajama shorts and panties to the side and rubbed his length along your folds again that were getting wetter by the second.

Setting opened mouthed kisses to your neck he moaned quietly into your ear.

His hand under your shirt again, he cupped your breasts, squeezing in tune with the thrusts of his hips.

When you had woken up that morning all your bravery from last night was gone. Everything that happened seemed like the worst mistake you ever made. What happened between you was nothing more than a fluke and he would discard you just like your ex had done. Or what if Rin thought you were only using him as a rebound. But wow, you got way ahead of yourself there. He probably also simply craved some release. This was just two best friends helping each other out, right? Even now you faced away from him as he used you - “Look at me.”, Rin's voice cut through your thoughts and his hips slowed, looking into your eyes when you turned your head. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. The kiss was drawn out and sensual, his tongue gently pushing open your mouth to slip inside.

“There you go…”, his hand wandered lower to your plush thighs, digging between them to toy with your clit, “You’re doing so well for me, hm? - Keep your eyes on me, y/n.”, foreheads resting against each other he sped up again.

It didn’t take long for you two to cum together, whiny and panting.

He kissed you once more.

“Now I’m all sticky again…”, you complained with a little pout.

He chuckled and nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“We can take a shower in a bit but let’s just stay here a little longer, alright?”

He held you close, nose buried in your hair, breathing deeply.

After a bit of silence he said your name.

“Hm?”

“Just in case it wasn’t really fucking obvious … I love you.”

_________________

Three months later:

Rintarou had a request while you were fooling around on his couch again.

“Do you remember that pink crop top with like the flowers on it?”

“Oh, you mean the one you told me not to wear again because it’s too small which then made me cry myself to sleep? Yeah, I remember.”

“Woah woah woah, I distinctly remember I said not to wear it in front of other people.”

“Oh you distinctly remember, do you?”

“Sure fucking do. Cause I kept waiting for you to wear it again in front of me.”

You raised a brow.

He kissed your neck and grabbed your breasts.

“Cause your tits look absolutely delectable in that thing.”

“Oh really?”

He hummed, sucking your nipples again, refreshing his latest set of hickeys.

“And then if you pair that with no bra and like… only some cute panties… shit, I’d make sure to worship every inch of you and then fuck you so thoroughly you’d forget your own name… hmm, pounding you to watch your tits bounce in that shirt… Damn, I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”

“Pervert.”, unfortunately your insult came out as a gasp when he brought his hand between your legs and dragged his fingers through your puffy pussy lips, drenched from his words.

He grinned, bringing the glistening fingers to his lips and giving them a mischievous lick. “As if you didn’t already know, my beautiful little slut.”

a/n: this concludes officially the most explicit thing I have ever written. Yeah.

[sanemislittledemon]

Ngl I've been seeing a lot of things for small hipped people. And I was wondering, could you make a Gyomei x gn reader who's self conscious about having big hips? (And mayhaps have thick thighs while your at it hehe)

You don't have to write this, but I think your writing is awsome! And I really hope you have a good day/night!

I would love to write this! I have big hips too so this is right up my alley! I hope you like it!

Gyomei X chubby!reader

You and Gyomei are staying in the sword smith village. when he finds you in the hot springs the secret you’ve been trying to keep comes out. 

Walking into the sword smith village was hell, everyone that we pasted in the long walk into the village was staring at us or just at me. Why would they have those expressions looking at the strongest hashira? Expressions of disapproval. The man that could squash them like a bug, no they were looking at me, they always were. The only ones that accepted me are the hashira even though I’m not one and for that I’ll always be grateful. 

they can see it the way my wide lower body fills out even my loose clothing. I clench my arms around Gyomeis massive one while we make our way to the village chiefs home.

“would you like me to carry you?” he asked

I look up at him confused before I realize I was pressing my entire body against him practically hanging onto his arm. I quickly pulled away from him, causing him to laugh “it’s alright, come here” he said before wrapping his arm around me and lifting me up “ Gyomei! “ I yelped clinging onto his uniform collar. The stone hashiras grip on me was tight but not enough to hurt.

Gyomei walked along the streets until we finally reached the chiefs house. He gently dropped me on the ground before leaning down to me “I’ll take care of this. we’ve had a long day, why don’t you go to the hot springs?” Gyomei said as he opened the door and was gone before I had the chance to reply.

“this way i shall escort you to the hot springs” he guide said before hurriedly moving me to the very edge of the village. We came to a steep incline of stone steps, the smell of the hot springs were pleasant but strong enough that it could be smelled from all the way down here.

“the hot springs are just up these stairs”

“thank you” I said with a bow before starting the slow walk up the stairs. they were so many, I’m out of breath I complain on the way up. It took some time put I finally reached the top “beautiful” I say out loud. The water of the hot springs were beautifully shrouded in a blanket of mist and the sun was shining through the trees making everything look golden. I looked towards the ground there was towels and bathing essentials already laid out for visitors.

Looking around to make sure no one else is around I let out a sigh as I start to undress myself down to nothing, I’m glad Gyomei stayed behind to greet the village chief. I know that Gyomei is blind but I still get embarrassed by my naked form. Obviously he knows about my hips and thighs but one thing I refuse to let him know is that it has fueled my insecurities. I have always hated them but I can pretend because I don’t want to seem weak around him.

I try to push those thoughts out of my mind as I slowly sink down in the warm water, sighing when the water hits my cooler skin. I sank down into the water and put my head back on a stone “this is nice”

Sitting in the hot springs for a while I could already feel my skin getting softer and my muscles relaxing, I almost drifted off the sleep when I heard “I’m glad you’re liking the hot springs” my head shot up and my hand moved to cover myself “Gyomei?” damnit I didn’t think he would be here so soon! “one moment, my love” he replied as he started removing his clothes. I quickly looked away as a blush rose on my cheeks, I slowly started to make my way to the other side of the hot springs before I was stopped.

“where are you going?” Gyomei asked as he was sinking into the water, damn him and his hashira senses. 

“j-just making room for you Gyomei!” I was trying my best to act cheerful but my heart was pounding. He laughed “it’s okay if you’re beside me, you are my partner after all” Gyomei then held out his hand for me to take, I reluctantly gave in taking his hand and letting him guide me to sit beside him.

“that’s better”

I was on the verge of tears being this close to him without anything to cover myself with, I started fidgeting desperately wanting to leave “what’s wrong?” he man asked

“nothing” I deflected

“if something is wrong, please tell me”

When those words left his mouth it felt like a dam burst, I started sobbing and it left the poor stone hashira very confused. “I’m sorry, was it something I said?” he asked as he wrapped his muscled arms around me pulling me to him.

“i don’t…my body…” I tried to explain between sobs, that made the man hold me tighter, he held me to his chest and let me cry it out. Gyomei put his hand under my knees and picked me up to put me on his lap.

He ran his hands through my hair to calm me down like he knows how and it worked. I slowly started to come out of it, I pushed myself back from him so I could look up at his face.

The man wore a saddened expression “I know you’re struggling, my love” he starts while running his hand down my sides “I know what you’re thinking but you don’t have to worry” he says as he’s leaning forward to kiss the top of my head “i love you” he whispers

“Gyomei I-“

“hush I don’t want to hear that anymore”

He pulls me tight against him “I know your feelings about yourself” he sighs while hot tears travel down his face making guilt pool in my stomach “you are the most amazing person in the world to me and I feel blessed to have you by my side” he expresses 

“I-I’m sorry Gyomei”

“I’m also sorry that I didn’t make those thoughts clear enough”

I throw my arms around his neck as I pull him in for a kiss “I love you”

He smiles into the kiss before kissing me deeply in return, our lips folded together so perfectly it’s like heaven but as soon as I was giving myself over to the feeling he pulled back “we will work through these thoughts together” he says

I smile and nod against him “sorry for the trouble Gyomei”

“you are no trouble for me, my love”

[prettypinkpuddles]

Research from afar

hi… yes i’ve been gone a while, it’s just because i’ve been to lazy to write or had no movement or ideas. but ive got one and i think im back

enjoy!

you had been given the chance of a lifetime, to go to Nathan and record its elemental properties to compare with that of Sumeru’s. you’d been here for months, made so many friends, and now it was time to leave.

when you first arrived, there were so much graffiti along the walls, graffiti was was far too high for an average person to reach. you furthered down the path to discover two girls. one was honey brown with pale blue hair, a top covering her chest and a lopsided skirt. she was smiling down at a short girl with blonde hair tied into a wide ponytail with a visor, sporty gear and taupe fluffy ears, much furrier than Tighnari’s. her cerulean eyes met yours and she gasped and waved to you.

“H-hello! are you a traveller?!” she called.

you nodded and walked up to them, holding your notebook tightly to you. “yes, i am! i’m a student from the Akademiya doing research about Natlan! could you help?”

that piqued their interest. they began to completely examine you. your clothes, how your hair was done, the little girl even looked into your notebook, with your permission of course. she pointed to the padisarah you had sketched out.

“that’s so pretty!” she smiled, “what’s it called?”

“a padisarah!” you grinned.

“it’s like a glowing hornshroom.” Mualani commented.

you grinned and looked at her, “could you show one one of those? for my research?”

“depends.”

a voice startled you. it was deeper and softer. you looked up, seeing a boy with lots of green accents and browned skin. his eyes were striking yellow and his muscles arms were crossed as he eyed you. a bit of suspicion washed over him before a new look overtook his face; you blinked and looked down at Kachina as she ran up to introduce him.

“this is Kinich!” she exclaimed, “he’s our friend.”

“hello.” you smiled.

“hi.” he said in a flatter tone.

“and yeah, it will depend,” Mualani continued. “are you afraid of the dark?”

“do you like adventure?!” Kachina jumped.

that started a journey of them taking you all through Natlan, showing you each of their tribes and customs. You wrote down so much that you needed a new notebook; of Mualani’s tribe and their famous hot springs, how amazing they felt after excursions through the tunnels with Kachina. she gave you a special white stone she said was good luck and you fastened it to your pyro vision.

Kinich’s tribe was probably the most dangerous for you, you had no proper shoes to climb mountains but you still tried anyways, much to Ajaw’s amusement.

“those delicate foot holders are no match for the mightiness of the great lands of Natlan!” he chortled as you lifted your foot onto the jutted rock to your left.

you grunted as you hoisted yourself up, “shut up! you stupid… pixelated…. lizard!” that got to him.

“LIZARD?!” he gasped, “you Dare call me?! The Mighty Dragonlord, K'uhul Ajaw, A LIZARD?!” he sprang up to you, got right in your face, red as a henna berry, and you fell.

you had no idea he could leave Kinich’s side with Kinich allowing it, it scared you so bad, you were now free falling from the cliff. you had to think fast, create something to break your fall but you didn’t need to. something grabbed you, swung you to the left in a quick motion and threw you up in the air again. it had to be Ajaw, he was going to throw you away like the trash he said you were. then you stopped moving.

you looked around. you were on the ground and in something’s arms. something much bigger than Ajaw’s tiny form.

“are you alright?”

you looked up, “Kinich?” you nearly fell out of his lap, but he snatched you closer to him, examining you. “i’m… i’m okay.”

he nodded after he felt satisfied, “that’s good.” he looked like he wanted to smile, then it dropped when Ajaw sprang in front of you.

“i knew it! i knew it!” he blabbed, pointing his stubby nubby at your face. “you fell, just like I said you would!”

he was often shit-talking you and everything you did, how you sketched out the saurian claw succulent that kinich gave you, how you walked, how you cooked the traditional food Mualani taught you, even when you were encouraging Kachina to bungee jump with you. you told her it was the best way to get her nerves out before the Pilgrimage, even though she was supposed to compete in a few months.

she ended up doing it, screamed her head off, but it was so much fun, you could see Mualani and Kinich smiling for you two as you soars through the air over and over. you screamed out and a huge, red hibiscus blossom appeared above your heads, bursting like a firework and Kachina squealed, begging to stop.

Natlan was probably more beautfiful than your home. all the color was beautiful, and yes you missed the green, but you got your fill through looking at Kinich. and the liter of yumkasaurs he was showing you.

you nearly squealed, “why did you show me these sooner!?”

“i’m sorry.” he said as you fell to your knees, hands outstretched for one the little green things rushing to you. it chittered and smiled wide, nuzzling into you with its floppy ears smacking your forearms.

you giggled and petted its head as it fell into your lap. “you’re such a cutie!” you cooed, seeing Kinich’s hand ruffle its petal-shaped collar. it smiled and pushed into his hand as you looked up at him, “do you have one of these?”

“no, but Kachina has a tetpetilsaur,” he replied. “i do not need a saurian.”

“because of Ajaw?” you grinned. he nodded with a bit of an eyeroll at the thought of the annoying thing.

Kinich turned to you, “would you like one? i think they would benefit your research.”

“a saurian?” you grinned and vigorously nodded as you looked at the whelp in your lap. “this one,” you whispered, “i wanna name her Pari.”

“like the padisarahs, from your home?”

you blinked at that, surprised he remembered and could say that, looking at him with a bit of shock before nodding with a smile. “yes, and the place that is for me.” you leaned to the side and leaned against his shoulder as you stroked Pari’s pale green fur at she purred.

your months-long journey was wondrous, you wanted to stay forever, but you knew you had to go back home and analyze the data with others from the Spantamad darshan. but you just couldn’t bring yourself to. your eyes filled with tears as you packed your bags, walking out of Mualani’s guest house to see the bright place you temporarily called home. temporarily.

as you walked with her to the stadium, you gave Kachina the biggest hug ever, smiling at her warmth as your eyes unfortunately landed on a blond girl with a white dress and blue accents.

“what?” Mualani asked you.

you shook your head, “it’s… i know her.” you said, “she’s travelled to my home before…. a lot happened.”

“ohhh, she told me that she’s been to most of Teyvat now.” Kachina chimed in.

“yeah….” you looked away from the Traveller, “she’s just… i can’t describe her.” you pulled the thought of her and Nahida from your head and looked down at Kachina, “i’m so sorry i’m going to miss you compete, but write to me when you win.”

she looked down at the floor, “if i win,” she corrected.

you bent down to her level and pulled her chin up, “when you win Kachina. i’ve got a feeling you’re gonna make it.”

Mualani nodded and took her hand, “let’s go get set up.” she looked to you and held out her hand. “i wanted to give you this necklace before you left, so you’ll remember to come visit me in the future.”

you gasped at the necklace she was holding. it was made of sprayfeather gills, expertly woven together to form a ring. you slipped it over your head and smiled, “thank you so much, i’ll visit you as soon as my research is over.”

“i’ll walk Y/n out of Natlan.” Kinich announced. the girls nodded and began to walk into the stadium together, leaving you and Kinich to make the journey back to where you started it.

people who recognized you waved and bid you goodbyes, some giving you gifts like seeds from the plants of Natlan, recipes for different dishes, stones of warm colors to bless you and your journey. even your yumkasaur had found you and was dancing alongside you as you approached the bit of water between natlan and the desert of Sumeru.

“i…” you tried to speak but nothing else came out.

kinich took your hand and glanced at you, “you don’t wanna leave, do you?”

your face scrunched and you shook your head, “ i was being strong for Kachina but i really don’t want to leave. this place is like magic, real magic. the people, the cultures so wonderfully blending together to create a unified nation. my saurian, my friends, even you… i simply can’t…”

kinich didn’t speak, his grip just grew stronger as he looked at you.

“i know, i know… i need to.” you wiped your face and sniffled. “i’m sorry, Kinich, i just-”

“don’t leave,” he commanded and pulled your face to him, “don’t leave without saying it.”

“saying… saying what?”

“how you feel, Y/N.” he said and you flinched. “i don’t want you to leave either, but if you must, at least tell em the truth, please.”

you could feel your heart quickening like when you’d get really close to him, you could smell his cologne, this woodsy, dark floral scent enveloping you both.

“say it.” he repeated.

you swallowed, “i love you, Kinich.” you nearly ate him, pulling his lips to yours to kiss him over and over, “i love you so much.” you said in between the kisses.

his arms found you, his fingers snaking into your hair and making your scalp tingle, “i should’ve said it that night, but i didn’t… i’m sorry.”

you two stood there, kissing and hugging before you started giggling. he pulled away a bit, asking you why you were laughing with that sneaky, low voice that would make you sizzle in your clothes, “i have to go, my boat will be here soon.”

he nodded and kissed your once more, then as you pulled yourself away, he kissed your hand. “come back soon, Y/N.”

“as soon as i get to my house, i’ll send a letter.” you replied with a smile, thinking how badly you wanted to see him again once you stepped on that boat. you thought of every moment with him, how you could’ve said it, when you were rock climbing, when you were alone camping, that night. but this was a good time to say it.

[randomciabatta724]

Some Polites headcanons because they're good for the soul.

Note: these are a mix of details from the musical I wanted to expand on, stuff I've read from other posts, and things I randomly came up with.

He was in the frontlines (or at least near them) during the Trojan war. Not because he wanted to fight, he just thought "if I have to join the battle, I'll at least shield those behind me". I took this from Survive, because he had to be pretty close to Polyphemus to be the first one hit by the club.

Self sacrificial. Very self sacrificial. Would die for the crew, especially for Odysseus and Eurylochus.

Loves dates. Either on their own or with honey. I don't know why, he just gives me the vibe.

Had night terrors both during and after the war. Either nightmares about the people he killed (let's face it, you don't come out of a 10 year war without getting blood on your hands) or his friends dying in battle. Never explicitly told anyone, but he would stay with his friends a little longer the morning after. Also picked a lot more night watch turns as a result, just to get his mind off of things.

Bruises/gets injured extremely easily, and doesn't notice/care. Especially if someone else is hurt too. "Are you alright?" asks Polites to another soldier while coughing up blood.

Also very durable, somehow. That's why Polyphemus had to hit him twice/j.

Myopic king. The glasses are a gift from Athena, because she was like "I think you're a soft-hearted fool, but I'll be damned if you embarrass my Warrior of the Mind because you can't see beyond the bridge of your nose".

The type of person to keep eating horrible/possibly poisoned food just to not offend the person who prepared it. Odysseus had to smack the lotus out of his hand because he would have still taken a bite to not make the lotus eaters upset (he brought some with him anyway, that's where Odysseus got the lotuses to put in the wine).

Many have already said this, he's the therapist friend before therapy was invented.

Gives the best hugs.

Taller than Odysseus but shorter than Eurylochus (Odysseus reaches Polites' chest, Polites reaches Eurylochus' nose).

Apologises when he bumps into furniture. It's a reflex, he doesn't notice he does it. It's a remnant of his pre-glasses days, when he couldn't distinguish a person from a vase.

The ancient Greek equivalent of a Godfather to Telemachus.

Extremely trusting, sometimes a little too much (fun fact: in the Odyssey he's like the first one to enter Circe's palace).

Very forgiving. He gives second, third, even fourth chances like it's nothing, no matter how badly someone hurts him. You have to be pretty forgiving to still think about greeting the world with open arms after being clubbed to death. (Note: this does not apply to his friends getting hurt).

When he takes off his bandana, his curls reach his shoulders and cover his left eye, and it gives him a whole different vibe. He still radiates warmth, but it's not the same. Kinda like the sun at noon and the sun at dusk. The second is still warm and welcoming, but dimmer, softer, maybe a little darker. People have mistaken him for someone else because of this.

Super heavy sleeper. One time when they were younger, Odysseus and Eurylochus decided to try and wake him up by making the most noise possible. They did not succeed.

His first kiss was Eurylochus while Odysseus was away in Sparta to court Penelope.

One time, someone tried to rob him. The guy was like "Give me your money!" and Polites was like "Oh dear, look at you, of course I'll give you my money, you look like you really need it. Also, why don't you come to my house so I can give you some food and clean clothes?". The thief was so ashamed of himself he ran away.

He befriended Charon in the Underworld.

You know the plague that Apollo sent during the Iliad? He may or may not have gotten it, I haven't decided yet.

Considering that in epic the sirens have the ability to shapeshift into loved ones, there was definitely a siren Polites somewhere during Suffering/Different Beast.

He's generally a very calm person, the only thing that really gets him angry is when his friends get hurt. And when he's angry, he's not someone to mess with. He can and will kick ass. And the thing that rubs salt in the wound is that if you get beat up by Polites, it's almost certainly your fault, because Polites isn't the kind of person that goes around randomly beating people up. And very few people wish to carry the title "The person who got beat up by Polites".

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

The last headcanon is something I've also based a scenario on. Basically, after Odysseus kills the suitors, they go to the Underworld. Most of them are still shaken up by the whole thing, which is understandable, getting shot by an enemy you can't see while unarmed in the dark is not fun, but not Antinous. Antinous is pissed. And so he rallies up the other suitors, he gives a whole speech where he basically says they can get revenge on Odysseus once he joins them there and also reveals all the shit they did while he was gone. And Polites is like, talking to Eurylochus or something, when he overhears. And so he goes to give Antinous the beating of his life because you do **not** disrespect his best friend and his family like that. And the suitors+Eurylochus are watching from a corner, with the suitors getting even more scared.

That's it. Nothing more :)

I know Eurylochus is married to Ctimene but I SHIP HIM AND POLITES SO BAD AAAAAAAAHHHHHH

[samofmine]

"de, can i do yours next time?" sam says, big smile on his face, wiggling his feet excitedly as he watches dean painting his nails with a light shade of pink.

"no way, sammy" dean says, "stop moving or i'm gonna screw it up."

he gives sam a stern look, holding his leg still.

sam sighs, "you'd look good with it, though. i could paint yours green! to match your eyes."

dean shakes his head.

no way in hell he'd ever do that. what would dad think?

sam came up with this idea and dean agreed to do it, because there's very little dean won't agree to when sam asks, but only while dad was away and as long as he'd take it off before he came back.

the next day, dean took him to the mall and bought a set of nail polish of different colors. sam was happier than he'd been in a long time and dean felt proud of himself. he was an awesome big brother.

one day, though, john caught them. sam was wearing a red nail polish. he didn't say anything, just gave dean one of those looks that got him sweaty and nervous.

after that, sam doesn't feel the need to hide it from dad anymore.

"see? i told you he wouldn't even notice!"

but yeah, he noticed. dean is glad sam didn't realize it.

but there's no way dad would be cool if dean were to do it.

he finishes the last nail and applies some oil.

"you know the trick. careful with your hands."

sam holds his palms in the air, admiring dean's work.

"i think this one's my favorite." he smiles, showing it to dean.

sam has nice hands.

dean misses when they would hold hands all the time, sam demanding to be by his side wherever they went.

the pale pink color contrasts with his pale skin. he looks softer, prettier even. something in dean's mind makes him want to lock sam up and stop people from seeing him. he knows how to deal with this feeling now, ignoring it until it fades almost completely. almost.

"yeah, pink is definitely your color, baby brother." he messes with sam's hair as he teases, but sam doesn't get dean's tone and just smiles as if he just heard the best compliment ever.

"thanks, de." sam leans in and kisses his cheek, like he always does after dean finishes painting his nails, and dean can't help but melt every time.

"any time." he says softly. he means it.

sam needs to get ready for school and he complains that he should have dressed and brushed his hair first because now he can't use his hands. and dean just pretends he didn't think about that.

"stop whining." he says, dressing sam up in fresh clothes.

sam watches while he brushes his hair. it's getting too long again, but dean won't let him know. he likes it like this.

dean pats his knee when he's done, "alright, i'll start the car, go get your stuff."

dean drives him to school and watches sam talking with his friends, showing off his painted nails, and his chest fills with pride from being the one who did it.

(something in him wants to mark sammy in other ways, have him showing off more things he can leave on his body. he ignores that as well.)

maybe he should get the damn green nail polish. sammy holding his hand carefully, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tries to do a good job, his attention fully on dean the entire time... yeah, that's too tempting.

he drives to the store right away.

[urfavoritedcwhore]

dinner at the lake house//henry winter x !fem!reader

smut, minors DNI!!!

warnings: swearing, over stimulation, unprotected sex, degradation, “rope” play, mention of safe word (it’s not used), let me know if i left anything out please

not proof read

lowercase intended

henry and i have had a secret romance for about five months now. it started when i stayed by his side for two straight nights, trying my best to nurse him out of one of his migraines. i had gone to the pharmacy for him, picked up his medication, hung blackout curtains on his windows, and brought him scotch and soup in efforts to get him to eat something. of course, we didn’t talk much those two days. however, in a strange way we became closer after. henry who had once been so stoned faced and reserved, invited me over for dinners three nights a week after those two rough days. over a course of a couple weeks i began to see a softer side of henry. a side that would remember my favorite tea, and be sure to pick it up for me when he was at the market. a side that patiently helped me with my greek assignments, occasionally even laughing with me when i would drink too much at dinner and switch between speaking french and english without noticing. he had pursued me. however, that’s not to say that we didn’t love eachother the same amount. it was a deep love. a love we had both had in our hearts from the moment we saw each other in greek class. a love that had finally been spoken of aloud after those few weeks of diners at his house. however, the past few days have been difficult due to minor agruments between henry and i. nothing big really. he tends to get snappy with me if i bother him while he works, which causes me to get snappy with him. this morning, francis had rang henry and told him we all were going down to the lake house at four pm, after our classes. when i awoke, henry told me the plan. i agreed, and went back to my dormitory so it wouldn’t seem as if we were walking to class together. i’m sure everyone has they’re suspicions about us, but neither of us really want to come right out and admit our relationship. due to the constant ridicule im sure bunny would put us under for no reason, we both have decided it’s just better to keep our private life private. after greek class i go back to henry’s apartment to pack a small bag to take with me to the lake house. most of my clothes live there now, after he insisted it would be easier to bring them over instead of running back and forth from his house to my dormitory. when i arrive i find him studying his books at the kitchen table, his trousers lose with no belt, his button up halfway undone, and the jacket of his suit draped along the back of the chair. i quietly walk to his room and pack my bag, along with a small one for him. i hear the telephone ring and quickly run to the living room to answer it before it could disturb henry. i want today to be a good day for us, a day where no one’s in a bad mood. i pick up the phone, “hello?”, i say softly into the receiver. “y/n? i thought i rang henry.”, i hear charles’ voice say confused. i quickly make something up, “no no, you did. i’m over at henry’s. he’s helping me with the greek assignment julian gave us today. he’s just in the washroom. what would you like me to tell him when he gets out?”, i ask kindly. “well actually i was going to ring you after i spoke to henry and tell you that francis, camila, and i are about to leave to go to pick up henry, then come to campus to collect you, bunny, and richard. i suppose we can just collect you at henry’s though? do you have your bag with you?”, he spoke with a soft friendly voice, i’ve aways loved that about charles. “actually, yes i do. i figured that you may come for henry while i was over here and brought it with me.”, i tell him. “perfect. we should be there in about fifteen minutes.”, he says. “alright, thank you charles. i’ll let henry know when he comes out.”, i tell him glancing over at henry, who’s still engulfed in his book.

charles and i say our goodbyes and i hang up the phone. i turn to henry and walk over behind the chair he’s sitting in, lightly placing my hands on his shoulder. “the twins and francis are coming to collect us.”, i say softly as i gently rub my hands up and down his shoulders. “hm? oh, one moment darling, i must finish this translation.”, he says back to me in a low, mumbling voice. i wonder if i should leave him be, but i know that most likely none of the words i’ve said to him have actually been heard by him. when he’s in his studying mode, he rarely hears anything anyone is saying to him. “love, they’ll be here soon.”, i say trying to get my point across to him. “i heard you the first time, i wish you wouldn’t bother my whilst i work. i’ve told you this many times.”, he says in a agitated voice. “fine. don’t be upset with me when they show up and you’re not dressed. i’m just trying to help.”, i say annoyed at his tone, releasing my hands from his shoulders. i walk over the couch, grabbing my book and begin to read. “you can be irritated with me, i’m only telling you what i’ve told you a million times.”, i hear henry get up from his chair and the slight ruffle of fabric, which i assume is him buttoning up his shirt. i don’t turn around to look at him, “i was simply trying to help.”, i say annoyed, my eyes not leaving my book. i hear him chuckle quietly, “you get incredibly frustrated over these things for no good reason dear.”, he says in a cocky tone. i decide that if i respond it will only escalate the situation. i silently continue reading my book. after about five more minutes of reading, there’s a knock on henry’s door. “coming!”, i say as i go into henry’s room to get my bag. i see henry in his room putting on a belt, and walk right past him. i pick up my bag, “give me a kiss darling. i know you’re frustrated with me, but i won’t be able to kiss you again until i come to your room late tonight.”, henry says catching my arm when i begin to walk out of the bedroom. even though i in fact am still frustrated, i look up at him and stand on the tips of my toes, placing a small kiss on his lips. he smiles as i drop down to the flats of my feet. “let’s go.”, i tell him walking out of the room. i answer the door and follow francis to his car, henry trailing behind us. we get in the car and say hello to our friends before driving to campus to retrieve edmund and richard. the drive is long and particularly difficult due to the fact that bunny is constantly talking about random subjects to which he knows nothing about. we arrive at the lake house at 7:15pm. the weekends are almost always spent at the lake house. richard on the boat with francis, the twins playing croquet with bunny, henry drinking a glass of scotch while studying on the porch, and me reading my book in the small hammock that hang between two trees in the front yard. since we arrive at dinner time i decide to go into the kitchen and make us all dinner. henry follows, sitting at the dining table, opening his book back up and reading. the twins, along with bunny and richard, go into the library. this leaves francis in the kitchen with me, helping me prepare dinner. we make a roast and vegetables from the supplies the housekeepers stocked the fridge for us with. dinner take about two hours, which is no problem since we all are accustomed to eating late. when francis and i finish making dinner, he leaves the kitchen to get the others. still slightly annoyed at our small argument from early, i look over to henry at the table. “dinner is ready…or should i not disturb you with that information.” , i say over the counter to him nonchalantly. he looks up from his book. as he opens his mouth to say something, everyone piles into the kitchen. he gives me an agitated glance and closes his book as i bring the food to the table. everyone takes their seats and begins to put food on their plates as i i sit in the seat across from henry.

“pourquoi continuez-vous à vous comporter comme un enfant.”, henry asks me, knowing no one will understand what he’s saying since we’re the only ones who speak fluent French. “je ne sais pas de quoi tu parles.”, i say back to him, not looking up from the peice of roast on my plate i’m cutting. “as-tu besoin d'être baisé ou quelque chose comme ça”, he asks me with shaking his head with a low cocky chuckle. i look up, shocked at his words, and realize everyone is looking at us confused. “henry’s helping me with my french. he says it will help to speak it randomly.”, i lie to them. “ohhh okay.”, camila says with a smile, and continues her conversation with richard, as everyone else resumes their own conversations. “je ne sais pas, est-ce que je”, i shoot back to him in a calm voice, to not draw attention from the others. “je pense que tu en as besoin”, he says raising his eyebrows at me. camila nearly chokes on her water, henry and i turn to her simultaneously. “Camila tu parles français ?”, i say to her suspiciously. she laughs softly, “je parle assez pour savoir ce que vous dites”, she says shifting her eyes between us with a grin. henry and i look at each other shocked. “ne t'inquiète pas, je ne le dirai pas aux autres”, she says in a genuine tone. bunny chimes in, “what are you three weirdos talking about?”, he asks with a mouthful of food. camila and i let out a small laugh. “we’re just talking about our days bun, i promise your not missing anything interesting.”, camila says to him with a sweet smile. i look back at henry, “nous pourrons en parler après le dîner”, i say with a cocky smile. camila giggled, “non, s'il te plaît, parle-en maintenant, je suis intrigué”, she says looking at me with big smirk. henry turns towards me, “nous pouvons en discuter dans votre chambre ce soir.”, he says before looking back down at his plate with a red face. “es-tu gêné ?”, i ask him with a laugh. “non, mais si je continue à parler, tu pourrais l'être”, he warns me looking up and lifting his eyebrows at me. “try me.”, i say in English to him, smiling and rolling my eyes. “continue d'agir de cette façon et je te baiserai si fort que toute la maison t'entendra pleurer mon nom.”, he says with a slight irritated smile while shaking his head. camila looks at me with wide eyes, “i think im going to get a bottle of scotch, you two continue the conversation without me.”, she tells us leaving the table and walking into the kitchen. i look back at henry, taunting him, “chérie, je ne crois pas que tu le feras vraiment, je pense que tu seras simplement le gentleman que tu es toujours. trop peur de me baiser comme un vrai homme.”, i say to him with a disbelieving laugh. he looked at me almost offended by my words before he leans back in his chair, “i suppose we’ll see won’t we.”, he returns with a shrug. he pulls out a cigarette from the pack he kept in his jacket pocket and sticks one in his mouth, lighting it as he did so. camila walks back to the table holding a bottle of scotch, “i suggest we all have a drink and go off to bed.”, she says to everyone, giving me a small wink. “i suppose i am quite exhausted.”, richard says as he lets camila fill up his glass. everyone fills up their glasses, drinks their scotch, and departs the table one by one. camila, henry, and i are left by ourselves at the table. camila looked around to make sure no one was lurking behind us before she spoke, “everyone assumes you two are together, but i always figured it was just gossip. how long have you two been seeing eachother?”, she asks curiously. henry speaks up before i can, “about five months.”, he says sipping his scotch. i pour another glass for myself as camila begins to speak, “you hide it quite well. i think the others are only a bit suspicious because of the looks you give to each other in julian’s class. although, francis swears up and down he came to your apartment one day to grab a book, and saw a brassiere.”, she says looking at henry.

i look up at henry and laugh, “i told you giving him a key was a mistake.”, i say shaking my head before taking a long sip of my drink. “ we’re luckily it was him and not bunny, i suppose. he would’ve told the whole school.”, henry says shaking his head. “don’t worry, francis didn’t tell anyone but me. even if he did i highly doubt they would believe him.”, camila says to me with a small giggle. she yawns and glances at her watch, “i should get to bed. i told francis i would share a room with him tonight. he gets quite frightened sleeping alone in this house. he swears that he’ll breathe in too much dust and choke while he’s sleeping. a bit ridiculous but well, you know how he is.”, she says standing up. “goodnight camila.”, henry and i tell her as she walks away up the stairs. “goodnight!”, she calls back as she continues to walk. henry looks at me, “go to your room, strip to your undergarments, and wait for me while i finish my scotch.”, he says in a quiet voice. “if you insist.”, i say downing the rest of my my drink, swallowing it with a gulp. “i do.”, he tells me tracing his finger around the edge of his glass while he stares into my eyes. i get up and walk to my room, glancing behind me to see henry watching me as he sips his scotch.

i arrive to my room, closing my door behind me and stripping to my undergarments as he told me to do. i wait for five minutes before deciding to grab my book and read while i wait for him. i’m finishing the chapter of the book i’m reading when i hear my door open with a quiet click. i look up and see henry smoking a cigarette and standing in front of my door. he takes a long drag and exhales the smoke before speaking. “did you enjoy acting like a brat today y/n?”, he asks as he slowly takes off his the jacket of his suit and putting the cigarette out on the ashtray that sits atop my dresser. “did you enjoy acting like a dick today henry?”, i ask with a small annoyed laugh. he walks over to my bed, pushing my hair behind my ears and holding my face. he brings his face close to mine, smiling, as if he’s going to kiss me, but passes my lips at the last moment to whisper in my ear. “don’t swear darling, it’s not attractive.”, he says before moving his head down to my neck, planting small kisses on it. normally i would shoot back a remark about how his arrogance isn’t attractive, but his lips on my neck melt me into a state of bliss. i hum softly as he disconnects from my neck and stands up straight, to look at me from above. “now what am i to do about that nasty attitude of yours?”, he asks smirking at me almost evilly. i open my mouth to respond but before i can he speaks again, “that was a rhetorical question dear, i know exactly how i’m going to handle it.”, he says bringing cupping my face in his hand and rubbing my check with his thumb. “take off my belt.”, henry says to me in a commanding voice. i decide to do what im told and remove his belt. as soon as its free from the last loop of his trousers he snatches it from my hands. “now place your wrists together.”, he tells me as he continues to look down on me. “why?”, i ask innocently, although i know exactly why he wants me to do this. he looks at me and chuckles to himself before grabbing both my wrists in one hand and pressing them together. he quickly loops the belt around my wrists, pulling it tight with his free hand. i look up at him half amused and half startled, “that’s awfully tight, i can’t imagine why you choose to tie my hands together.”, i say teasing him. he doesn’t respond, he simply pushes me flat against the bed, walks to the end of the mattress, and places himself on it crawling towards me slowly. once he reaches my legs he grabs them forcefully, spreading the open. i let out a soft gasp from how tight his grip on my thighs are. he trails his left hand up and down my inner thigh, keeping his right hand firmly gripping my other thigh. he stops right before reaching my underwear, trailing his fingers back down my thigh. “i’m trying to decide if i want to not let you cum at all, or make you cum multiple times.”, he says staring at my clothed pussy. “do you deserve to cum tonight?”, he says shifting his eyes to me. my core is so neglected from his teasing that i drop any ounce of brattiness left in my body, and begin to nod my head frantically as i prop myself up on my elbows to look down at him. he laughs, “you were so full of words at dinner tonight, can you not speak anymore darling?”, he says before straightening his face and using a more serious deep tone, “lay back down.”. i release myself from my elbows and fall back against the mattress. “now answer me with words, do you deserve to cum?”,. he repeats before pressing soft kisses up and down my thighs. “yes”, i say practically moaning. “are we going to continue to be bratty?”, he asks disconnecting his lips from my thighs, and stroking his index finger up and down my clothed slit. my thoughts jumble as i try to answer. henry has never acted this way before, he usually is such a gentleman when you two sleep together. “no”, i say as my breath hitches. “good answer darling, now, je veux que tu me surveilles.”, he says standing up from the bed and removing his trousers along with his button up . i do what im told and prop myself up against the head board, using my elbows to wiggle my way up.

henry laughs at my struggle as he climbs back on the the bed, reaching over and unclipping my bra, throwing it to the ground. “lift your hips.”, he says as he hovers above me, his knees on either side of mine. i lift my hips and he pulls down my underwear in one swift motion, “open.”, he says nodding to my mouth. confused, i open my mouth suspiciously. before i can even realize what’s going on, my balled up underwear are in my mouth as a gag. he smiles looking down at me, still straddling me without our body’s touching. my exposed pussy lays on the bed begging for touch. i watch him as he slowly begins to pull his hardened cock out of the slit of his boxers. i grow excited waiting for him to penetrate me, but instead he quickly swipes one hand up my slit, collecting my wetness. his hand moves so fast i wouldn’t have even known he touched me if i wasn’t looking so intensely at him. he takes the hand he used to collect my slick with, and begins rubbing himself up and down with it. i moan into my underwear at the sight of this glorious man. he looks as if he is a stone cut out of a greek god. his muscles prominent, he’s forehead glowing with sweat, and his eyes hungry with desire. i struggle trying to buck my hips up to catch friction with him. “oh no baby, not yet, your gonna have to wait like a good girl.”, he says raising himself up higher and leaving my hips only connected with the air. he laughs when he sees the pained look on my face, “are you mad your getting consequences to your actions darling? would you rather me fuck you like a gentleman?”, he asks still stroking himself as he looks down at me. i desperately reach down to my core to touch myself but he grabs my arms restraining them back against my chest, “you do that again duchess, and you’ll sleep with those fucking restraints on.”, he spits at me his teeth clenched. my face turns a bright red, i feel as if im a student being scolded at school. i think this might be the only time i’ve ever heard henry swear in English. i leave my hands against my chest as i continue to moan into my underwear while he strokes himself. the aching in my untouched core is so strong i feel as if i might cry. “if i take these out of your mouth,”, he motions to the underwear, “i don’t want to hear whining. all i want to hear are begs for me, understand?”, he says with a raised eyebrow. i nod frantically as he reaches and pulls the bundle up panties from my mouth. i look at him with awe for a moment as he parts his lips to let out a groan from the feeling of his hand rubbing his dick. “are you going to start begging or should i put these back in your mouth?”, he says holding up the underwear when he notices my silence. my mouth moves faster than my brain and my words form into one gigantic word, “please henry i’m so sorry for being bratty today, please let me feel you, please touch me, please let me touch you, please give me anything.”, i beg as his face glimmer with a cocky smile. “if you say so.”, he shrugs his shoulders and pushes his entire length into me without warning. my face contorts as i moan in all but a scream. he leaves himself buried inside of me as he pulls my legs down, making my body drop flat to the mattress, his following mine down. “fuck!”, i moan as i feel his length stretching me. he stays unmoving inside of me, “no no, i only want to hear pretty words come out of that pretty mouth, okay?”, he says looking into my eyes. “henry please move, please move.”, i beg as my body craves the motion he’s restricting me from. “i want you to say, ‘yes sir henry, only pretty words will come out of my pretty slutty mouth.’ first.”, he tells me turning his head sideways and smirking at my pain. “yes sir henry, only pretty words will come out of my pretty slutty mouth.”, i whimper before connecting my lips with his neck ,frantically trying to make him move. “ok darling, i hear you.”, he says before pounding in and out of me as fast as humanly possible.

i moan as i feel his dick hitting the sweet spot inside of me, “it’s so good henry”, i say as he groans. he brings his hand up to my clit, rubbing small circles around it.“i want you to count out loud how many times you cum.”, he says as he continues pounding into me. the looks of his beautiful face, along with his words and the pleasure he’s making me feel, bring me to the edge. he sees my face start to contort as he continues rubbing me and hitting my g-spot. “count it.”, he tells me. the bottom of my stomach releases its knot and i feel a wave of pleasure run over my body. “one”, i moan, dragging out the word as i ride out my high. henry doesn’t even slow down. he continues ramming inside of me, the slaps of our skin echoing in my room. i feel slight pain mixed with my pleasure as my pussy throbs with sensitivity. “henry i-”, he cuts me off, “no. if you really need me to stop say red. i’m not stopping until i hear that word or until i cum.”, he spits at me fiercely. through these words and the pleasure of my last high still wearing down, i feel the knot in my stomach tightening again. “your so pretty when your getting the brattiness fucked out of you y/n.”, he says as he grips my left breast, lightly pinching my nipple. the knot in my stomach releases again and my back arches as i feel the second wave of pleasure roll over my body. “two!”, i practically scream in pleasure. i feel henry’s thrusts getting sloppy and ignore the over stimulation in my pussy as i clench around him. “Putain!”, he moans in french before grabbing my face with his hand. “i want you to look at me while i cum. better yet, i want you to cum with me one last time.”, he says smirking at me as groans. i concentrate on his face and the thoughts of all the things he’s said to me tonight. and before i can even tell that i’m about to cum, he says sharply, “now.”, i feel him spill into me as my body contorts with pleasure, my legs shaking and my fists clenching. we both moan loudly as he rides out his high inside of me. after a few more seconds inside of me, he pulls out and collapses beside me. “is your attitude gone?”, he asks sitting up and grabbing my pack of cigarettes from the bedside table. i nod in a loss of words for what i just experienced. he chuckles at my response, “good darling. now come here.”, he says holding his arms open, a cigarette hanging between his teeth. i sit up and immediately collapse back down into his arms and onto his chest. “remember that next time you want to act like a brat, i’m not gonna allow you to cum at all. tonight was your one free pass”, he whispers as he lights the cigarette.

A/N: WOOO SHES DONEEE. ok so if yall fw this i will certainly do more henry winter smuts

[bumblesimagines]

Headcanon:

Dating Natalie Scatorccio

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader

~~~

Natalie Scatorccio is a complicated girl. She puts up this tough, hardened, sarcastic exterior for others, especially those who look down on her for living in a trailer park, her sense of style, or her drinking and occasional drug usage. Natalie's used to the insults, the jabs, being constantly undermined or ignored. Despite what she's been through and how others perceive her, Natalie has a kind heart and a strong set of ethics that come out when someone needs protecting. As such, Natalie needs someone who looks past her hard exterior (and the rumors surrounding her) and embraces everything she is.

Natalie isn't much of a relationship kind of girl. Sure, she'd like one, just as anyone else would, but she knows most people at school apart from a select few only see her as trailer trash. She lets her eyes wander often and sometimes lets her mind do too, but there's always some insecurity or negative thought ready to bring her down. 

Until she meets you and she gets that fluttery, mouth-drying, heart-racing feeling in her stomach for the first time in a while.

Natalie has a love-hate relationship with crushes. They can be distracting, and depending on the person, heart-achingly annoying. But with you it's different. Her worries vanish when she meets your gaze and she smiles despite herself, even if it means enduring teasing from the other Yellowjackets. 

Natalie pretends to be confident when you first begin dating. She tries being the cool, chill, no-problem girlfriend most would expect her to be. Except she's not. She worries a lot, whether about you, how you feel about her, or how the relationship is, Natalie worries to hell and back. She half-expects you to change your mind about everything, to take back everything you've said and believe the rumors about her sleeping around or being this or that. 

Her anxieties ease with time and reassurance, although she despises feeling like a burden when she admits her worries to you. Some parts even feel guilty and not good enough when you kiss her and tell her everything's alright. Her father's nasty words echo in the back of her mind but just one warm, gentle touch from you silences him and she relaxes, turning putty in your hands. 

Natalie's an attentive girlfriend. She's an observer of sorts and she keeps all your interests in mind, locking away in her brain to remember for later. After practice, she enjoys going to your favorite place to eat and chat about school, the Yellowjackets, and anything else that comes to mind.

Natalie opens up gradually, letting you see a softer more vulnerable side that not many get the opportunity to see. She dances around the subject of bringing you home with her since the last time she brought someone over, it ended in her father's accidental death. But she embraces the fear and the memories hand-in-hand with you and takes you home, even if it's just briefly. Natalie finds it difficult to speak of her father, of her childhood, but she trusts you enough to do so and appreciates your soothing words and loving gestures.

Natalie is big on physical touch and quality time. She loves touching you, although most of the time she prefers it in private and out of sight. However, even in public, she'll try to find a way, whether it's through hand holding, being close enough to brush shoulders, fixing an article of clothing for you, resting her head on your shoulder. Sometimes you'll even be granted a kiss on the cheek. Behind closed doors, Natalie's all over you. As much as she enjoys talking, she likes making out a whole lot more and you'll often find her on your lap or curled up at your side.

Natalie likes cupping your face when she kisses you, one could say it's a habit of hers. You already know what she wants when she places her hands on your cheeks and gives you one of those cheeky smiles. 

Being with Natalie means going to the WHS Yellowjacket games. It means a lot to her when she finds you seated in the stands cheering them on, cheering her on. She always gives it her all during games, lest she wants a lecture from Taissa or Coach Martinez, but she tries even harder when she knows you're there watching her. Each time the game ends with them as victors, she'll rush over to you and envelope you in a hug, thanking you for being there and giving promises of spending time alone together. 

The Yellowjackets are a family as well as a team. No matter how many times they fight or argue or have their disagreements or literally break each other's legs, they're family and love each other. Despite that, Natalie takes her time introducing you to the team. Most of them already know from simply watching or overhearing gossip, and while Mari or Jackie may ask once or twice, they try to respect the distance. When Natalie finally officially introduces you as her partner, many girls jump at the chance to ask you questions, ranging from sweet ones to rude or offensive ones that have Natalie scowling and dragging you in the opposite direction. Regardless, the girls begin inviting you to things or greeting you in the halls and generally treating you as one of their own. You put Natalie in a better mood and the girls appreciate it. 

Despite the rumors of Natalie sleeping around, she's only ever slept with two guys, something she admits to you with worry that you soothe away without even meaning to. Once past the rumor mill, Natalie often initiates sex, sometimes in the most random of private places. Sometimes in a car, on school grounds, at your place, or the bathroom of some random party. She's a hormonal teenage girl who's head over heels. Who could blame her? Though, expect her to be putty in your hands if you make the first move. She'll get all giggly and blush red like a tomato.

All in all, Natalie makes for a good girlfriend, despite her troubles and tragic childhood. She tries her best and she'll always consider you one of her first priorities in life, even if it means putting you before herself. You're the first one she runs to with news, the first person she thinks of when she wakes up in the morning, the first person she seeks out in school. She'll protect you with her life if needed and will defend you against anyone.

But everything changes when Flight 2525 crashes in the wilderness.