#v | {flocking together}

[livestosave]

@caeloservare asked: “I know you’ve been hurt in the past, and I promise, I’ll never let that happen, again.” //Qrow please \o/ From this Starter Set || Accepting!

Everything was...a lot.

His head was spinning, and gods, did he wish he could say it was from alcohol. Even if it was, he knew it would still be overwhelming. Everything, with the girls, their friends, Atlas...Ozpin, James...Leo.

The corvid let out a careful breath, leaning on the balcony and watching the lights twist across the sky. Auroras. He'd always liked them, even when he was so shitfaced that he could hardly see. There was something about the sky that always brought him comfort. That eased his soul, even in his darkest days. And these...these felt like they certainly qualified.

A soft huff of amusement crept out of his throat, even as he half-turned his head to the left to look at James. Then he smiled, a little uncertain.

"I don' need protectin', James...you got more important things t' worry about than a dusty old Qrow."

[endersdead]

folks/systems with DID/OSDD i have a question!!

sorry if my terminology/wording isnt correct, im trying to be as inclusive as possible!

endos please dni! this question is specifically for folks with DID/OSDD!

[worthless-weight-in-gold]

Thread with @detectivewoof moved to a new post because I destroyed the formatting ;^; continued from here

    Good, that worked well. Jim avoided talking once he was protected from the evil, evil paramedics. Throat thick with leftover panic and all. He watched the paramedics leave with a careful eye -- who didn't look thrilled about the situation, but in a sympathetic way. Maybe guilty? Well, he was sure they dealt with their own fair amount of random people flipping out when they were trying to help, so one more would hardly be a blip. Besides, he couldn't blame them for being annoyed when he'd been quite so dramatic.

Jim just nodded, and after only a brief hesitation he accepted the offered goods from Manny. The man had a keen fucking eye for how to help someone calm down. Probably had dealt with a fair amount of it before, then. Instinctively protective? Maybe had a kid or a little sibling or something close to it that got scared easily.

People like that were nice. Unfair advantage for Jim, with his sweet doe eyes and youthful appearance, but they could get so angry when someone was in danger. Jim hadn't gotten to see that flip many times in his life, maybe he'd get to with this officer someday. Jim drew his knees up, taking a mouthful of water, shaking less. Eyes drier and more clear.

Still, he waited. Waited like a teenager trying to make themselves say something, visible starts to sentences as he straightened up more but then would crumple back down before he even opened his mouth. Eyes mostly staring into space. Would saying it make it more real? Would it help? Would it even matter? All questions Jim had asked himself before, under wildly different circumstances. Easily to play at what you had been, once.

"Seven months." He finally offered. The truth, even. He'd joined seven months ago. "It's hazy. I was drugged a lot."

[arsenicflame]

college au?

ty <3<3<3<3<3

C: Neutral. A good author might be able to sell it, but a bad one will kill it deader than dead.

this is def a high C grade for me, but its not really something im ever seeking out- with any fandom ive read, but especially OFMD. i just think there are many many better tropes for these characters. in general one of the things i like about these characters is that they aren't young, have so many life and history behind them, and taking that away from them, just like, loses something for me.

i do have a sweet spot for non traditional college au's, either ones where theyre teachers or non traditional students (or a mix of both)- i think some of those are just delightful.

Give me a fanfiction trope and I’ll grade it

[swordgrace]

𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄.

༺ cregan stark x fem!northern!reader.

SYNOPSIS: a longtime friend of cregan stark, you seek him out to train you with a longsword. though, a duel in the wolfswood leaves you with more of a desire for other things instead of swordplay.

anonymous request.

༺ FORMAT: one-shot — requested.

༺ WORD COUNT: 9.3K.

༺ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), friends to lovers, sexual tension, mutual possessiveness, size difference / size kink, cregan is much bigger than the reader, dominant cregan, cregan is a big, brooding hunk, sexually-charged dueling, p in v sex (unprotected), multiple positions, all stark men have a breeding kink, neck biting / marking (biting in general), rough sex, cunnilingus / oral sex (fem!receiving), hair pulling, fingering, groping, light bruising, mild manhandling, soft ending & soft aftercare.

༺ AUTHOR’S NOTE: You can tell that I’m inspired because I’m putting out fanfics at the pace of a madman. I absolutely loved this request, huge thanks to the anon who gave me this wonderful idea and allowed me to bring it to life! ❤️ I loved writing for Cregan and I definitely wouldn’t mind doing so again! Thank you to all the love & support, you all mean the world to me! Enjoy!

“𝐈𝐟 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐰𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 — 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫.”

Lord Cregan Stark’s usual stoicism held a vast amount of protectiveness, the desire to better you in the right way, the Northern way. You had been taught all about swordplay by your father, but through the years, as you grew into your place as Lady of Barrowton, your skills had declined.

Ladies of your station were admonished for possessing any inclination of violence — a woman could not hold a sword, she could only hold an embroidery needle. A woman could not rule, only guide the men that do, and a woman could not become tempestuous, for it meant that she was simply a bad product or undesirable.

Thankfully, Cregan defied all expectations and pledged to teach you, hone your skills again from the ground up, if necessary. You could not be anymore grateful to him for assuming that mantle when he didn’t have to.

Your longstanding relationship with the Warden of the North, Cregan Stark, was the byproduct of many childhood years spent together — it was often you, Cregan, and his late younger brother. A deadly trio, to be sure, running through the Wolfswood and terrorizing Winterfell with typical childish antics.

The joy of youth had begun to run dry — you were nine-and-ten now, Cregan one-and-twenty, ruling over the entirety of the North. Your father was Lord Roderick Dustin, Lord of Barrowton and an infamous fighter, bannerman to House Stark. Of course, his duties were often torn between Barrowton and Winterfell, and so you were left in the care of your uncle.

Learning to fight again as a man would involve many hours and countless sessions held within the Godswood behind the Great Keep. It was only a handful of times each week, provided that Cregan was able to attend despite the rest of his duties.

His closest advisors had beseeched him to abandon teaching you, to let it die and rest with those with more time on their hands. Cregan refused to leave you in the hands of a less capable swordsman — what good was that, letting you learn the wrong way?

A crow’s cry reverberated throughout the Wolfswood, the beat of a flock soaring through the heavily wooded hills. Your sessions inevitably relocated from the Godswood to here, to allow for the cover of privacy and a lack of wandering eyes.

Hardened earth had turned damp and muddy in the presence of a deluge days before, certainly not sturdy ground for true fighting, but it would prove to be a challenge for the both of you. Rain wasn’t common in the North, but it proved to be quite a nuisance whenever it fell — and it fell hard.

He was under great scrutiny for doing this anyway, and Cregan preferred to keep the lectures of old men at-bay for a time, if he could. The young Lord sat beneath the sprawling branches of a massive oak tree, his horse tethered several feet away.

Using a sharpening stone, he turned dull steel into razor-sharp weapons, abandoning the practice swords he often brought with him whenever he met with you. That happened to be another point of contention — meeting with a young maiden, alone in the woods, without any chaperone.

Cregan would never tarnish your honor or sully your dignity — betrothal was inevitable for a man of his station, but he wanted to forget about it. Things were easier when it was just the two of you, sparring in the woods — he did not feel so weighed-down by duty, by leadership.

He felt less like the Warden of the North and simply Cregan Stark.

The mantle of leadership had become heavier with the visit of Jacaerys Velaryon, Prince of Dragonstone, asking that he supply his mother’s armies with Northmen. House Stark was an honorable one — he wasn’t about to break vows of fealty sworn before the late King Viserys to make his daughter heir.

It meant that war was on the horizon, a war that would involve himself and his people, a war that held the potential to rip the realm asunder. Cregan had prepared himself for a time like this, when oaths and honor transcended old traditions. Whatever storm was approaching, he was prepared to face it head-on.

His head lifted from admiring polished steel, gray eyes searching for the dappled coat of your horse as it thundered through the Wolfswood. His heart felt lighter when his gaze found you, guiding your steed toward his own to tether it to a sturdy branch.

Love was a dangerous thing, just as perilous as any war fought by men — both on different fronts. Cregan had lost plenty in his life, and he feared losing you. This friendship you had, it almost seemed to take on a life of its own, abandoning the line of propriety and molding into something else, something affectionate.

Cregan didn’t know what he felt for you, but he knew that it wasn’t anything a friend should feel.

Despite the bitter chill of the North, the day was temperate enough, one where he didn’t feel the desire to wear a heavy cloak or layer himself in furs. The adrenaline of swordplay often got his blood rushing anyway, and he would be hot by the time this was all said and done.

The cheer and excitement you often felt was displayed so openly upon your face, lips curled into a bright smile. Cregan had teased you for being too amiable for a Northerner, but admittedly, he looked forward to seeing your sweet countenance and sparkling eyes. There was a warmth you possessed, a warmth hot enough to keep him comfortable when in your presence.

“Dour, as always,” You hummed, dismounting from your gelding with a look of mild amusement. You abandoned the lengthy silks and pretty dresses of a maiden whenever you came to train, outfitted with leather armor that seemed somewhat ill-fitting on you. “I wish to see you smile, Cregan.”

With a sardonic huff, a twinkle reached Cregan’s stormy-gray eyes as he looked to you, brows furrowing together. “I suppose you caught me on an odd day,” He replied, placing the sharpening stone upon the pillar of flat rock he sat atop. “Duties of the Warden of the North.” He sighed, turning his eyes toward the dismal skies.

You could detect his stress from where you stood, moving closer to him until you reached the smooth rock, taking a seat at his side. “Something is wrong,” You stated. Despite the constant banter you shared, you were still friends — Cregan wore his exhaustion on his sleeve in moments of vulnerability. “What is it?”

His shoulders rolled in a shrug, letting the blade of his longsword turn downward into the dirt, its weight resting against his thigh. “Winter is here,” Cregan murmured, countenance etched with a somber look. “War is brewing in the South. I am torn on two fronts.”

The conflict between Rhaenyra and King Aegon II — you knew of it. The realm was prepared to rip itself apart instead of seeing a woman’s ascension, something that you felt a great deal of sympathy for. “What will you do?” You inquired, able to see the furling of tension within his body, even beneath his sparring leathers.

“Uphold the oath made before King Viserys I, and before the realm,” Cregan replied, his eyes filled with something stern and solemn. He would never break an oath — it wasn’t something Northerners took lightly. “We swore to see the ascension of Rhaenyra Targaryen, and we shall fulfill it. I’ve pledged two-thousand greybeards to send South, when the time comes.”

The admiration you felt for Cregan only grew tenfold — it was the Cregan Stark that you had felt affection for, grown fond of. He was honorable, a gentle yet powerful man who wielded leadership with thoughtfulness and integrity. Your lips curled into a warm smile, as smoldering as a summer’s eve as you reached his arm.

“You’re a good man, Cregan.” It was all that needed to be said. There were plenty more sentiments conveyed in your softening stare alone — many things left unspoken, but some of it boiling beneath the surface.

A soft huff escaped him before he shook his head, dismissing your praise with a shrug of his shoulder. “I do what any honorable man would do,” He murmured, but the both of you knew it wasn’t true. Cregan showed great humility even when he didn’t need to. He moved to his feet, holding a longsword in each hand. “But we didn’t come here to speak of a grim future.”

The noticeable difference in stature was a point of teasing between the both of you, and one that Cregan took full advantage of. You stood across from him, head canting to one side. “The only grim future that I see is your face, my Lord.” You chimed, and he let out a mirthful scoff at your prodding and playful use of his title.

He stepped closer, offering you the glimmering blade of a longsword. Your surprise was noteworthy, and he very nearly made a comment, electing to hold his tongue. Cregan knew how to handle a blade — he was a talented swordsman, seasoned and experienced despite his age.

“These are real,” You stated, feeling the weight of the blade within your hand. You half expected the practice swords, but this was a welcome surprise. “Do you think that this is wise?” Admittedly, there was a pang of fear at the thought of swinging a real sword. What if you accidentally maimed him?

Cregan huffed, visage one of stoicism despite the amusement that crept into his stern, Northern timbre. “You’ll have to learn to leave the play-fighting behind, my Lady,” He murmured, watching as you white-knuckled the hilt. He was surprised that your hand didn’t rip apart. “Don’t hold it too tight.”

With a sharp exhale, you glanced at Cregan, whose gray eyes were akin to the onslaught of a winter storm, dark-chestnut tresses framing his face. He was beginning to grow a bit of scruff on his face, likely a byproduct of the stress of his duties.

He was handsome — Northern perfection made flesh and bone, a gentle mountain of a man. In your youth, you had always fancied Cregan to some degree, but his birthright often prevented you from acting on impulse. Then again, it was best left as a fantasy.

You froze when his hand wrapped around yours, calloused digits forcing your grip to loosen. “Don’t keep your hands together,” Cregan rumbled, repositioning your grip — one toward the top of the hilt, and the other closer to the pommel. “You’re acting as if this is day one.” He challenged, and that got your attention.

“It’s heavier,” You murmured, recoiling away with a disdainful expression. Cregan knew that he was beginning to get a rise out of you, lips twitching into the ghost of a smirk. “It’s not as easy to handle as the swords we used before.”

“Did you expect a longsword to weigh as much as a feather?” Cregan inquired, attempting to smother his amusement when you rolled your eyes at him. He prepared himself, squaring up into an attack formation, handling his ancestral blade with ease.

A scoff escaped you, and you mirrored his stance, holding the blade to the best of your ability. There was a burn in your arms from the newfound weight, but you pretended that it didn’t bother you. “I might throw this feather at you.” You grumbled, and at last, that earned you a brief chuckle from Cregan.

“Ready yourself,” He warned, circling you with steady steps. Cregan knew that he wouldn’t hold back for your sake — you were strong enough to take it. You insisted upon it many times before, even if he was initially reluctant to do so. “Don’t hold back.”

With a soft grunt, you brazenly charged at Cregan, hoping that it would catch him by surprise. He seemed to be expecting this, nimbly dodging your sloppy charge as he stepped to the side. You swiveled around, blades clanging together as they reverberated throughout the Wolfswood.

The silver of steel glinted within the pale rays of sunlight glistening through the canopy above. Cregan maintained a stalwart expression, though it began to crack at the seams as you swung again. He parried the blow, shuffling within the fallen leaves and damp earth.

“You’re swinging like a drunkard,” Cregan quipped, knowing that you were smarter than this. In one smooth stroke, he shoved you aside, grabbing the bicep of your sword arm. “Don’t fight like one.” He grunted, brows furrowing together as you struggled within his ironclad grasp.

In a brief stroke of genius, you smacked Cregan’s side with the pommel of your longsword, causing him to loosen his hold as you shimmied away. He let out a grunt, watching as you quickly made distance. It was a dirty fighting tactic — he most certainly didn’t teach you that.

The flash of a triumphant smile crept onto your features, but not before the King in the North charged forth, the both of you bringing your swords up. Something blossomed between the both of you, a strange tension fueled by unspoken feelings. Cregan bared his weight down upon you, causing you to maneuver to the side in order to evade him.

There was a fire within his eyes whenever he fought, a spark that turned into a bright flame. Adrenaline made his blood run hot, and the more the two of you brought your swords together, moving about as if it were a dance, the more enticed and invigorated he became.

Cregan found you beautiful, strands of hair sticking to your shimmering temples, framing your creased brow. The concentration written upon your visage was enough to make him pause, admire the intricacies and commit them to memory. Even when you wore men’s garb to spar, you were still enchanting.

You were perfect when fighting, pouring all of your efforts into beating him, if that were a possibility. Cregan didn’t want to doubt you, knowing that you possessed a raging inner fire, a quiet strength that grew with the tenacity of a wolf whenever you were provoked.

Steel ripped against steel, the duel commencing deep within the heart of the Wolfswood. His heart hammered with excitement, breath hot and labored as he parried another one of your quick, flourishing strikes.

He pressed his advance, barreling forward as he began to back you toward the rock underneath a sprawling tree of reddish leaves. Cregan noticed the panicked look in your eyes, the way in which you tried every move he’d taught you to gain distance.

“The wolf descends, my Lady. Think hard,” Cregan rumbled, wanting you to try and get out of this situation. “The enemy will not wait — they will strike, and you will end up here.” You were intelligent, a quick thinker — he wanted you to be smarter than this.

In what you considered to be another dirty tactic, you kicked a mound of damp dirt in his direction, providing enough of a distraction for you to hop the gap. Again, it only seemed to corral you into a corner. You attempted to swing down with an overhead strike, but Cregan very nearly knocked you into the ground.

“Never strike like that again, unless you want a blade through your belly,” He grunted, watching with mild awe as you brought it down to the side instead, forcing him to parry. Both of your blades locked at the side, struggling to maintain your balance. “Good.”

The dance continued, becoming a game of wit — outthinking and outmaneuvering the other, blades clashing again and again. He pressed you back into a corner as he had before, the distance slim. Cregan didn’t want you to yield — he knew that you wouldn’t.

Anticipation grew, and you found yourself weighing the odds. Perhaps you were simply too prideful to surrender to Cregan, even if all of this was a learning moment. Either way, you continued to fend him off with quick slashes of your blade, to no avail.

The rock became dangerously close, nearly brushing against your back as Cregan pressed his advantage. In a stroke of what you deemed as desperate thinking, you lashed out with a mule kick to his sword hand, loosening his grip enough to knock it away.

You shoved him with all of your strength, and much to your own surprise, he fell right into the dirt. Your heart hammered within your chest, and seeing the King of the North strewn across the ground made you feel some sense of victory.

Cregan huffed, brows knitting together as he stared at you from below, quickly recuperating. “I didn’t teach you to fight like a sellsword.” He grunted, but he had to admit, it was good thinking on your end — even if it was dirty and unsportsmanlike.

A smile fluttered across your features as you wiped the sweat from your brow, preparing to assail Cregan with whatever witty blows you could think of. “It wouldn’t hurt you to learn a thing or two.” You mused, canting your head to one side.

With a stoic grunt, Cregan decided to employ a dirty tactic of his own. It was a playful move, acted out without any malice and instead, wanting to hear the end of your teasing. He lashed out with his boot, sweeping your legs right out from underneath you.

Cregan smirked, watching as you buckled and toppled over, though he never intended for you to unceremoniously land right on top of him. You dropped your longsword somewhere along the way, forehead narrowly avoiding smacking into the hard earth. Cregan caught you before that could happen.

With labored breaths, you immediately hit his chest with a light punch, not enough to ever cause any real harm. “What was that for?” You grumbled, realizing how close the both of you were. He was a large man, warm and muscular beneath you.

“I’ve learned a thing or two, my Lady.” Cregan corrected, a twinkle within his stormy-gray eyes. When he fully noticed the compromising position the both of you were in, his breath hitched slightly. There was nothing stopping him from grabbing your hips and kissing you then and there.

Before fantasy could become reality, you hastily rolled off of him, feeling a light sting of arousal growing between your thighs. You wanted to avoid such a disaster — Cregan was your friend, he was the King in the North. To ascend all bonds of propriety and try for something more would be improper.

He stayed on the ground for a moment longer, moving into a sitting position as he shook his head. “Throwing dirt, pommel-striking, and kicking,” Cregan remarked, planting a palm atop his knee. “Have you been training without me?”

“Never,” You wouldn’t dare seek out another swordsman — there were none like Cregan Stark. “I wouldn’t dream of having another teacher,” You hesitated, lips twitching into a bemused smile. “Though, if I am not mistaken, you do sound jealous.”

Cregan happened to stand before you did, outstretching a gloved hand for you to take. You did, murmuring your gratitude as he hauled you up and right into the expanse of his chest, emblazoned with the direwolf of House Stark. There was something indiscernible within his eyes, steely yet softening in sight of you.

The unusual tension had crackled from mere sparks to an open flame, your throat becoming tight as Cregan’s gaze bored into you. His shadow swallowed you whole, wisps of dark, chestnut hair sticking to his face, perspiration glittering across his temples. You still held his hand, watching as his jaw tensed.

“I sound jealous, my Lady?” Cregan rumbled, timbre gentle and thick with his Northern accent. The closer he pressed, the more the reality of the situation dawned upon you, keeping you grounded. You were afraid of resorting to action, afraid that something would happen to tear you both apart.

It was easy to tear down your teasing, playful side to nothing more than a smitten maiden when Cregan huskily addressed you that way. His eyes momentarily flickered across your beautiful features, particularly the soft curve of your mouth, and what little of your neck had been exposed to him.

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, lips parting as a soft exhale escaped you. “You do,” You whispered, searching his countenance for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. When you found none, you began to lean up, rocking closer than ever before. “Quite jealous.”

Cregan silenced you with a kiss, one that could melt even the hardiest of ice. It was blazing and passionate, yet slow enough to savor the moment. You reciprocated, palms flat atop his chest as he wrapped a thick, bulky arm around your hips, hauling you in until no sliver of space remained.

You kissed him fervently, allowing your many months of smothered affection to boil over. Despite Cregan’s indomitable, intimidating appearance, he was as gentle as they came. He handled you with respect, his other hand coming to seize your waist, kneading into your curves through your sparring leathers.

Tension boiled over, fueling the fire that had been stoked between the both of you for some time. Ravenous was a mere understatement — you wanted Cregan then and there, if he would indulge you. The ground was muddy and certainly no place to bed.

He bit at your lower lip with a grunt, brows furrowed together in concentration. He hunched in on you, bringing you flush against his body, heat replacing the bitter sting of the Northern chill. Cregan was rough, but inherently passionate with how he treated you — no malice, simply a wolf’s hunger.

“Cregan,” You huffed, mouth agape as you attempted to regain your composure. Whatever restraint you had was hanging on by a mere thread, prepared to snap. “I …” Admittedly, you were at a loss for words, still reeling from the shock of having your affections reciprocated.

His mouth pressed against your jaw as he buried his scruffy visage into the crook between your neck and shoulder. “Seems you’re cold, my Lady.” Cregan grunted, feeling the onslaught of gooseflesh that had permeated your skin, continuing to prickle along your spine.

With a brief chuckle, you reached for his chestnut tresses, tugging on his hair in order to bring him closer. “Fortunately, I have the King in the North to keep me warm,” You hummed, gasping when he brazenly groped at your haunch, strong hands kneading into you. “I want you, if you’ll have me.”

“Here?” Cregan uttered, timbre deliciously thick and husky with desire. Even if he wanted to claim you for himself, he would’ve taken you somewhere warmer, somewhere comfortable. “You’re no animal, my Lady. I wouldn’t fuck you into the dirt like one.” He rumbled, able to taste your yearning.

Honorable and gallant — you only wanted him more after that. As much as you desired to rip your armor off and let him have his way with you upon the rock, the mud and grime afterward wouldn’t have been pleasant. “Your chambers, then?” You mumbled, feeling his warm lips clamor from your jaw to your mouth.

“If that’s what you want,” Cregan murmured, a playful smirk toying at either corner of his mouth. It shattered his stoic countenance, melting away all of those dour inclinations he held before. “You might change your mind, and I wouldn’t fault you for it.”

A huff escaped you, brows furrowing together as you shook your head. Cregan thoroughly enjoyed that you spoke bluntly and plainly — he wanted you more than you realized, keeping his composure for the sake of propriety. There was no telling what could happen once you reached Winterfell.

“I will meet you at Winterfell.” Your answer was clear, solidified in stone. You appreciated that Cregan had given you an out, but that was the last thing you wanted. He gave you another kiss, teeth nicking your lower lip before you retrieved your longsword and mounted your horse.

Cregan watched you ride off from the Wolfswood — the new Lady of Winterfell.

A cold dusk cast its looming shadow over Winterfell, and with it, bringing the sting of ice and a light snowfall. Clouds made their presence known, gray and ominous, covering up the stars until none remained. Snowfalls in the North often ranged between fleeting and treacherous, and tonight seemed to be somewhere in the middle.

Following your dance in the Wolfswood with Cregan, the ride back to Winterfell gave you plenty to consider. You found his hesitation to be noble, but you had made your mind up some time ago. The moment where friendship now transcended into something else had come, and you knew what you wanted.

Perhaps you had kept him in suspense on purpose, waiting until the rest of the Great Keep was silenced before you made the tenuous trek to Cregan’s chambers. You had cleaned up perfectly well, clad in thick, furred robes, ones that left little to the imagination. You assumed that you wouldn’t be sleeping much tonight at all, if Cregan were still intending to follow through.

The doors to his chambers were heavy, embossed wood carved from the thick trunks of Wolfswood oak, the handles resembling the heads of wolves. There was no guard posted outside — there never was.

If anyone knew Cregan at all, it was his staunch independence and his desire for privacy. He was one of the greatest fighters in the Seven Kingdoms, and no guard would change such a thing. You stood outside, steeling yourself for what was to come.

Your hand hovered above the wood, palm pressing against it before you knocked thrice, breath hitching slightly at the sound of footsteps from the inside. Nervousness suddenly gripped you — none of this felt real at all, and you were prepared to wake up in some distant dream.

For the longest time, part of you had silently yearned from afar for Cregan, knowing that he would someday take a wife, and it wouldn’t be you. You were just friends, and you were cursed to admire him for all eternity with nothing coming to fruition. You had come to terms with it, but now?

Everything had changed.

He kissed you with a fervor in the Wolfswood, a kiss reserved for lovers — had he felt the same way, as you did? Was it simply the desire to have someone he trusted warm his bed? You were uncertain, and you wanted clarification.

The groan of oak reverberated throughout the stone corridors as Cregan opened the door, standing there, tall and indomitable, a tunic clinging to his chest. You could see so much more of him without the chain-and-leather armor, without the obstruction of a thick hide cloak. His broad shoulders seemed to relax in your presence.

Gods, you looked beautiful — Cregan had seen you dressed up on a handful of occasions, but they all paled in comparison to how you looked now, clad in the pelts of wolves, visage free of dirt. His grip tightened along the edge of the door, an effort to restrain himself from devouring you then and there.

“May I?” You asked, wringing your hands together in order to alleviate some of the tension. Cregan stepped aside, stormy-gray hues transfixed upon you as you crossed the threshold into his chambers. Your heart hammered within your chest as he shut the door, crossing the room to tend to the fire.

“I must know what this is, before we go any further.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, strained and desperate for an answer. “What have years of friendship come to, in your mind?” The question was direct, demanding that he state his intentions.

Cregan appeared perplexed, stepping toward you with a hooded expression. “Was that kiss in the Wolfswood not clear enough, my Lady?” He rumbled, hooking an arm around your hips. “I am a man of honor, and I wouldn’t dare tarnish your own. I am still your friend,” Cregan uttered, reaching up to cup your face, “And I am your lover.”

“If I wanted you to tarnish my honor?” You murmured, watching his countenance contort into a look of desire, as if you were invoking a challenge. Heat radiated from him in waves, sinking into your bones, making residence there. He was comfortable, a mountain of a man who held you so gently.

A brief huff escaped him, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, yet it did not come to fruition. “I would do as my lady commands.” He grunted, pressing a kiss against your jaw. You tasted perfect, if that were even an accurate description.

His honeyed, husky words excited you — his commitment to you was laid bare before you, and you felt a familiar surge of arousal deep within your bones. “No one else?” Possessiveness swelled within you — you wanted Cregan for yourself. If this were to become something serious, you would make it clear.

“I am yours,” Cregan murmured, chestnut brows furrowing together as he made his pledge to you. “And you are mine. I would not have it any other way.” He assured you, calloused hand kneading into the swell of your hip through the thick layer of fur that concealed your body. He wished to see it all for himself.

Your foreheads touched for a moment, and despite the charged, tenuous element of sexuality floating about, you quite enjoyed the tenderness of it. “I am yours, and you are mine.” The pledge was soft-spoken through you lips, prompting Cregan to press a kiss against the top of your head.

Without hesitation, your fingers curled into the coarse fabric of his tunic, gripping tightly as you pulled yourself up for a kiss, but Cregan met you halfway in a frenzy. His kiss was ravenous, filled with a rapturous hunger that did not appear subtle at all.

Gone was the chill of winter, replaced by the burning fire that smoldered between the both of you. He kissed you hard, teeth raking across your lower lip as he hauled you close, until there was no sliver of space left between. There was no shortage of desire or passion either, as Cregan’s hand pushed against the leather ties of your robe, wanting to feel your soft skin underneath.

“Cregan.” You exhaled, shivering when you heard that growl reverberate within his throat. Your hands joined him in their lascivious crusade, untethering the rough leather strings of your gown, loosening it up until it sagged upon your body. You nodded to him, a subtle signal that he could have whatever he wanted.

He pushed the thick material aside, watching as it fell around your feet, softly thudding against the stone. You wore nothing at all underneath, supple and beautiful, skin as soft as silk, all belonging to him. “Expecting something from me, were you?” Cregan murmured, pushing your tresses aside, exposing the expanse of your pretty neck to him.

A soft groan tore past your parted lips, belly filling with a fire that demanded to be extinguished. He pressed a hot trail of kisses along your face, starting there as he began to move downward. “Perhaps.” You huffed, listening to his chest vibrate with a brief bout of laughter. The sound was like music to your ears.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled his praises into your flesh like a prayer. His roughened palm moved to clasp against the nape of your neck, digits reaching for your hair as he brought his mouth to your jaw, teeth and lips working in-tandem.

Cregan shivered when your colder fingertips hitched beneath his tunic, feeling the thick, corded muscle of his torso, the few scars here and there. Your digits toyed with the leather waist of his trousers, skimming upward to flatten your palm against his abdomen.

You moaned when he bit into your neck, hard enough to leave a mark, but delicate enough not to break through your skin. He felt along the soft dips and bends of your curves, traveling wherever he pleased until he sank his hands sank your haunches, unable to keep from touching you.

Everything about you invited him in, intentionally or unintentionally. The scent of various herbs and perfumes clung to you, intertwined with that of leather. Each embrace of his mouth was purposeful, burying into the hollow between your shoulder and throat, seeking to make his mark, imprint himself upon you.

He moved enough for you to remove his tunic, assisting in maneuvering the garment off and away from his body. You let it drop to the floor, kicking aside your robes to form a growing pile of garments.

Cregan was perfect — a true Northman, with a hardened body to prove it. He was all thick muscle and strength, sturdy and broad-shouldered. It was refreshing to see a man that didn’t lack in fortitude, and you reached forward, caressing your fingers over the plane of his musculature. He shuddered at your embrace, lips parting slightly.

He kissed you again, devouring your mouth with an unrestrained desire. Even if lust had taken hold, Cregan preferred displays of rough passion instead, wanting to show you just how much you meant to him, the things you did.

A growl stirred within his chest, hands grabbing your hips as he steered you toward the furs in front of the hearth. You reached for his head, tugging on his chestnut tresses as you reciprocated each kiss with one of your own, one that echoed his own fervor.

“Lay down.” He rumbled, gaze simmering with ardor as he watched you descend onto the furs, pelts of direwolves that enveloped you perfectly. Cregan towered over you, lowering himself onto his knees as he pushed your legs aside, bullying himself between them.

You shivered when he kissed your collarbone, roughened palm kneading into the pliant flesh of your thigh. He wanted to savor all of you first, taste you upon his tongue, let your scent linger. Cregan’s mouth was domineering and rough, biting wherever he could, listening to your satisfied whimpers.

“I want to taste you.” Cregan murmured, his voice a husky timbre that sent shockwaves throughout your body, striking at the pit of your stomach. It filled you with a sense of desire, goosebumps cascading along your spine. His inquiry was masked as a statement, but he awaited your approval.

Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, you nodded, feeling a lick of excitement trail down until it settled between your thighs. “Please.” It was all you really needed to say, your incendiary gaze alone inciting a rapturous hunger inside of him.

His descent was slow, ensuring that you felt every nip of his teeth, every kiss emblazoning itself upon your flesh. You sighed with passion, meeting his tempestuous, gray-eyed stare, one that smoldered with desire. You reached for his face, fingers sweeping around his jaw, and you watched as he kissed your palm.

The gesture was brief yet sweet, a break in the swelling tide of carnality and wanton need. Cregan pressed a kiss against your collarbone before he continued his downward venture, lips drifting over both of your breasts, hungrily making his mark against your sensitive skin.

A low grunt escaped him when your digits threaded themselves into his tresses instead, finding their purchase at the base of his skull. The warmth of his mouth drifted over your stomach, feeling Cregan bite at your hips, inhaling a gust of your saccharine scent. It drove him wild, the desire to claim you seeping into his bones.

Cregan wasn’t much of a talker during acts of sensuality — he preferred to show you through action, instead. When he made it to the apex of your thighs, he settled against the furs, orange firelight dancing across the taut, thick muscle of his shoulders. He pushed your legs apart, letting them rest across his back, rough hands kneading along your legs.

Your breath hitched within your throat, stomach churning with excitable butterflies and arousal. The slick warmth that had coagulated between your thighs was a welcome sight to Cregan, who felt a twinge of smugness knowing that you’d gotten wet already.

He listened to the tremor within your exhale, the squirming of your body atop the furs, the subtle twitch of your thigh when he bit into the sensitive flesh. You were endlessly soft — velveteen beneath his fingertips. The contrast between his rough palms and your smoothness was a perfect duality.

The gray intensity of his stare left you breathless, and he did not break eye contact as he kissed your slit, prompting you to shiver. His tongue raked hot embers across your aching cunt, deliberate and intentional, driving you to an agonizing madness.

Cregan pulled you closer, a growl ringing within the depths of his throat as he sought your cunt, greedily lapping over your slit. He split past your folds, ravenous for whatever you would give him. It made you moan, hand gripping his hair, hips absentmindedly jolting into the vigor of his mouth.

He seemed so herculean, even now as he rested between your legs, broad shoulders etched with a slight tension. His brow was creased in concentration, a low hum escaping him as he devoured your cunt. Cregan did not have any qualms about staying there, head buried between your thighs.

That taut heat within your stomach had been wound so tight, like a coil threatening to snap in two. His mouth was voracious, lapping and kissing wherever he pleased, with the enthusiasm of a man starved. He was passionate and somewhat rough, occasionally turning to bite into the pliant flesh of your thighs.

“Cregan,” You moaned, writhing beneath him, feeling his strong hands clamp down upon your legs, locking you into place. It was pure bliss and agony all rolled into one, your other hand fisting the thick furs beneath you. “Don’t stop,” A whine tore past your mouth, with the wolf more than willing to oblige. “Don’t stop.”

A huff escaped him, one that filled his belly with a raging fire. His cock throbbed within his leather breeches, aching with want for you. He wasn’t about to let you buck and move at your leisure — he wanted you all to himself. His tongue continued to lap at your cunt with heavy strokes, stoking the flame of your arousal.

You tasted sweet upon his tongue, honey-thick and a feast to sate his appetite. If he would choose his fate, it would be in between your legs, listening to the myriad of moans and throaty whimpers leave you. It was satisfying to know how much you enjoyed this; derived pleasure from it.

A tremor gripped your legs, little spasms of delight making their way throughout your body. Cregan’s mouth forged a blazing path from the hood of your cunt to your entrance, tongue greedy and hot, before he went back up again.

The sound of your soft, pleading voice calling his name made him grunt, digits digging into your thighs, hard enough to leave faint bruises. You enjoyed the display of strength, his desire to mark you, claim you for his own. The wolf festered within him, and you were prepared to submit to him.

Cregan was stoic and dominant, yet those storm-colored hues softened whenever they flickered toward your visage, the image of grace and beauty. You had always been pretty, yet your perfection reared its head fully when you opened yourself up to him. He was enthralled, reduced to a mere pup in your presence.

His mouth pursed around the pearl of your cunt, stimulating that sensitive clutch of nerves. You gasped, the sensation sudden yet blissful, causing your thighs to squeeze his head slightly. Cregan grunted, forcing you apart again, nose grazing your folds.

The growing shadow of his coarse beard scratched against your thighs, providing you with a brief sting — a delicious sting, at that. You had often teased Cregan for being baby-faced, but he had elected to grow out a bit of scruff, and for that, you were grateful.

He wanted to stay there, rooted between your legs, mouth consuming your cunt as if it were his last meal. Cregan favored it, thoroughly reveling in the way your body reacted to him, visceral and ecstatic. He gingerly suckled on your clit, feeling your fingers tighten within his chestnut locks, grip him tight.

The warmth from the hearth danced across your body, illuminating your soft curves and silky skin. Inklings of perspiration began to shimmer against your chest, the fire’s intensity combined with Cregan’s constant body heat. He ran hot, hot-blooded like any Northerner.

His mouth didn’t relent, continuing to suck and kiss at your clit, tongue flicking against your slick entrance. He let one hand drop from your thigh, yet the other still kept you pinned into place. The first stroke of his thick digits against your core made your head spin in a delirium of desire.

Your hips lurched forward, attempting to gain any shred of friction, despite Cregan keeping you locked into place. You felt as if you were going to explode, seeing stars within your vision as his teeth grazed your clit. The sudden sensation made you shiver, hand fisting into his hair.

Cregan teased your entrance, searching your face for any signs of discomfort as his digits worked their way inside of you. You were tight, slick and warm around him as he sluggishly pumped them in and out of you. “That’s it,” He rumbled, grunting when you pulled on his tresses again. “Easy, my lady.” His tone held a playful remnant to it.

A brief huff escaped you, one of mild amusement. The sweetness that ebbed between the both of you soon dissipated into an air of seriousness once again, with Cregan tormenting you, mouth on your clit. He drew each sound out of you with a vengeance, feeling your legs tremble on either side of him.

A comfortable silence filled the gap between you, intermingled with the sounds of your pleasured cries and Cregan’s sonorous grunts. That heated coil within your stomach began to unfurl, bringing an onslaught of arousal with it as you bucked into his mouth.

“Cregan,” You moaned, grabbing his hair so tightly that you feared you might rip it from his scalp. The roughness of it only spurred him on, enjoying your ironclad grasp as he assailed your cunt with careful laps and thrusts of his fingers. “Gods, I’m close!” You huffed, back arching off of the furs.

He wanted to do it to you again — again and again, make your body submit to him. Lust and passion swelled within him, blossoming through his chest, coupled with the possessiveness he felt over you. You belonged to him, now — his Lady of Winterfell, his.

Cregan didn’t intensify his pace or slow down, and instead, continued his ministrations with a sense of fervor and duty. His fingers and mouth worked in a blissful tandem, nose occasionally bumping into the hood of your clit, tongue dancing across your slit. He felt you shudder beneath him.

A flood of sheer ecstasy consumed you, flesh prickling with an overwhelming warmth as you shivered, reaching your climax in a white-hot crescendo. Your back arched completely, head tossed back against the furs, hands wrangling with Cregan’s tresses.

The buzz you felt afterwards was a pleasant feeling, and as you rode out your peak, you sank back into the mounds of wolf’s fur beneath you. Your grip began to slack on Cregan, enough for him to lift his head, gaze hooded and affectionate.

He pressed a series of sweet kisses along the inside of your thigh, reaching up to the bend of your knee. Perspiration glittered along his temples, but he was far from over — his hunger still prevailed. “You’ve got a grip like steel.” He grunted, moving forward to rest his head against your stomach.

A brazen, lascivious thought passed through him — your belly swollen with his child, an heir to Winterfell, a child of House Stark. It was reckless and wild to think of something so bold, but he couldn’t get it out of his head.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, somewhat flustered at your capability to nearly rip Cregan’s tresses right from their roots. He shook his head, his steely-eyed gaze flickering toward you. “I was quite consumed by the moment.” You confessed.

Cregan crawled forward, pressing a kiss against your mouth. You could taste yourself upon his tongue, evoking a whimper from between your lips. “Never apologize.” He rumbled, briefly nudging his forehead against yours. You observed him in silence, gaze swimming with affection as he rolled off of you.

He immediately stooped down to scoop you right off of the furs, hooking his bulky arms underneath you. You laughed, palms flat against the warm expanse of his chest, foreheads pressed together yet again. You didn’t need to say anything — you knew what came next.

Cregan gently deposited you onto his bed, his shadow eclipsing the glow of the firelight. He seemed massive at this angle, but his gentleness was notable with how he handled you. He unlaced the leather ties of his breeches, stepping out of them.

You happened to swallow at the sight of him — a mountain of a man, truly. A pang of nervousness struck at your gut, afraid that he wouldn’t fully fit inside of you, but it was fleeting. You knew that he would make sure that you were comfortable above all else.

His countenance, often laced with an unapproachable stoicism, softened at the sight of you — it wasn’t something commonplace. You had certainly eased the tension, his shoulders no longer weighted with stress or the burden of leadership.

A brief ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth — if you blinked, you might’ve missed it. “Are you smiling?” You whispered, doe-eyed and enamored with your Northman. Your hands trailed across the honed muscle of his shoulders, nails tracing across his back, and then to his chest.

Admittedly, it was difficult to keep a stony face around you, especially now, with your vibrant, exuberant smile and smitten gaze. Though, in the spirit of playfulness, he let out a rumbling hum, joining you atop his bed. The frame beneath groaned slightly in protest. “Perhaps.” He murmured.

He covered you with his burly physique, chestnut tresses framing his face, gray eyes drinking you in with a hint of tenderness. For as rough and rugged as he could be, Cregan became gentler for you — it wasn’t something he was used to.

Chest to chest, you craned forward, lips seeking his own as you kissed him. It was sickly-sweet, as gentle as a maiden, and Cregan found himself wanting you all over again. A low grunt of approval emerged from his throat, brows furrowing together as he reciprocated.

You reached for his bicep, palm unable to grip around the bulk of his muscle. It made you realize how much smaller you really were than him, in all senses of the word — stature and muscle mass. He had all the advantages on you, but you quite enjoyed the amusing contrast of sizes.

To Cregan, it thoroughly aroused him, seeing your silky digits attempt to wrap around his arm, only to fail miserably. He treated you like a prized jewel, afraid to harm you, afraid to drop you — it made his cock twitch against your thigh, and he heard the hitch within your throat.

“I’ll be gentle.” Cregan assured you, calloused palm gliding along the length of your thigh in an attempt to ease your worrying. You feared that he would split you in half with his cock — not that it was a terrible way to go, but you did want to walk on the morrow.

He lowered his head to your chest, peppering kisses all along your breasts and collarbone, the ridge of his nose brushing over your sternum. The tip of his hardened length slid across your slick entrance, prompting you to shiver with anticipation.

With a shove of his hips, the head of his cock pushed into your cunt, his girth and size something you needed to adjust to. A strangled whine left you, lips agape and slack, hands clawing at his biceps as he gingerly made his way inside of you, inch by agonizing inch.

The discomforting pang of being stretched made your body crawl, attempting to get comfortable beneath him. Cregan noticed the twinge of pain that fluttered across your countenance, and he soothed you with a kiss against your brow, palm still caressing your thigh.

It felt incredible — certainly an adjustment, but pleasurable nonetheless. The girth of his cock filled you completely in ways you hadn’t felt before, and you knew that he would be the only one you would ever want. Discomfort inevitably dissipated into bliss as Cregan gave you time to grow used to him.

“Need you to move,” You whimpered, noticing the fire burning within his eyes, like smoldering embers come to life. Those stormy-gray hues drank you in with the hunger of a starving wolf, and he moved your back up enough to place a feather pillow beneath your hips. “Cregan.”

The newfound angle made you reel from ecstasy, feeling the way in which his cock hit that spot of pleasure for you. He shuddered when you moaned his name, and it activated something salacious inside of him. He thought of you, the Lady of Winterfell, Lady Stark, full and round with his child, his heir.

He moved, then.

His hips snapped forward as he attempted to restrain himself from fucking you into a stupor, executing a great amount of gentleness, fueled with an amorous intensity. Cregan was passionate, cock rutting into you, hitting new depths as he began to show you just how much he wanted you.

A grunt left him when your knees bumped into his hips, occasionally squeezing him like a vice, but the bulk of his musculature kept you properly spread apart. Your mouth clamored for his, lips meeting in a tangle of tongue and teeth. Your nails dug into the thick muscle of his bicep, other hand reaching for the nape of his neck.

You felt him reach for your hand, roughened digits intertwining with yours as he placed it beside your head, pounding into you with a gentle fervor. Cregan was tempered and measured about his movements, sheathing his cock inside of you fully with each thrust.

A myriad of needy moans and whimpers left you, and you did little to conceal the height of their volume. You groaned into Cregan’s mouth when he snapped forward again, and you felt as if he might break you in half — in the best way possible, of course.

His cock was akin to the force of a battering ram in slow motion, ensuring that every thrust drove you to madness, your walls tight around him. The friction between your bodies only contributed to the tension, your chest snug against his, lips tangled together, his roughened digits groping at your thigh.

Your nails raked faint trails of red across the thick muscle of his bicep, prompting him to growl into your mouth, kissing you as if it would be his very last time. There was a subtle desperation to Cregan, coupled with that innate instinct to breed, fill you with his seed and let you carry his child.

The Northern winds began to howl outside, bringing with it an onslaught of snow, and yet you had never been warmer, happily trapped beneath the herculean mass of Cregan Stark. Your foreheads touched on occasion, each kiss building with want until it had exploded into something hot and messy.

Perspiration lingered upon both of your bodies, as his chambers became increasingly hot, like that of a fever pitch. Cregan used some of his body as leverage, pushing himself inside of you again, cock sheathed within you completely until he pulled back, and thrust again. The action became increasingly intense, yet he kept himself in-check.

Your body was perfect, a sight for him alone, made by the Old Gods — he couldn’t thank them enough. Cregan gave you another blistering kiss, letting you linger upon his tongue before he withdrew, mouth lowering towards your chest once more. He was hellbent on pleasing you while chasing after his own release.

As he took one of your breasts into his maw, he felt the sly return of your digits tangling within his hair, and he couldn’t help but briefly smirk into your flesh. He reveled in the way you manhandled him so brazenly, gripping him tightly as your leg hitched around his hips.

Cregan didn’t relent, cock driving into you with a needy force, aching and throbbing inside of you. Your thighs twitched and trembled, and he continued to trace his hand across it before grabbing at your haunch, pliant flesh filling his palm.

Grunts and low rumbles escaped him, colliding with your own symphony of moans and whimpers, desperate for him to come undone. You rolled your hips forward whenever you could, friction creating another delicious wave of heat between the both of you.

He gently bit at your chest, face nestled there as his pace became a touch quicker, cock battering into you, kissing your slick cunt over and over again. Those tantalizing fantasties of filling you with his seed tormented him, driving him into a frenzy.

He hit that spot between your legs that seemed to make you writhe, grabbing at his chestnut tresses, back arching slightly as he turned your senses into mush. Cregan groaned, the sound heavy and husky in your ear as he came, spilling himself deep inside of you. He continued to thrust into you afterwards, the motions considerably softer and less invigorated.

A huff escaped him, a quick breath to regain his composure. His stamina was rather impressive, and if you asked it of him, he would’ve continued on well into the night, but your countenance seemed etched with mild exhaustion.

You whimpered when he stayed inside of you, head bowing towards yours as he pressed a kiss against your forehead, and then to your lips. The gesture was inherently tender despite his rough demeanor, enough for you to loosely drape your arms around his shoulders.

Cregan rolled over to lay next to you, his large form taking up a sizable portion of his bed. He coaxed you close, thick arm snaking around you as he tugged you into the warm expanse of his chest, propped up against the pillows.

The silence was a comforting one, a blissful aftermath of affectionate sentiments and declarations of adoration. He made sure that you were comfortable, shrouding you in the blanket of wolf pelts, showering you in gentle kisses. His grasp was inherently protective, as if he were shielding you from some invisible force.

“Are you alright, my Lady?” Cregan uttered, checking to see if you were unwell. He sometimes got carried away in the moment, and you weren’t exactly tall and stocky like himself. He needed to accommodate you, and that sometimes included being gentler.

With a smitten smile, you nodded, peering up at him through your lashes. Your thighs continued to scream with a dull ache, cunt throbbing and sticky with his seed and your arousal. “Very much so.” You replied, head resting atop his chest as you traced patterns against his abdomen. “If I weren’t so spent, I would ask you to do it again.”

A brief huff of amusement left Cregan, who held you close, reaching for your hand as he cradled it within his own, his other hand firmly situated atop the swell of your hip. “I cannot promise that I would not ravage you the second the opportunity arose.” He murmured, pressing a kiss against the top of your head.

“If that’s what I wanted?” You challenged, noticing the way his expression contorted into a look of desire, but above all, pure devotion. Cregan enjoyed your flirtatious remarks and subtle challenges, chest vibrating with a hum of approval.

“Then you are in for a long night, Lady Stark.”

copyright @ swordgrace ; please do not copy/steal or translate my works onto other platforms or claim it as your own.

[joeyfranchise]

𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣

a star on top…

boyfriend!joe x fem!reader

summary: joe helps you put up your christmas decorations… and a star on top completes all the scenery ;)

warnings: nsfw mdni!!! kinda sweet smutty fluff, riding, p in v (wrap yo willy!!), lots of kissing and cheesiness

word count: 2k.

note: ALAS! i made it in time. if it sucks i’m sorry. i listened to a nonsense christmas by sabrina carpenter, music for a sushi restaurant and santa baby by ariana grande & liz gillies while writing 🤍 (please appreciate the spongebob joke in the summary hehe)

you’d think six boxes full of christmas decorations would be enough for just two people. joe dragged them out of storage one by one so you could go through them and arrange them how you wanted, but here you were elbows deep in the fourth box while you chatted to him about more stuff you needed.

he wasn’t mad, not by any means, he actually found it cute how much you loved to decorate… but jeez. did anyone need this much stuff? anyone in the world?

“i realllllly need them joe!” you exaggerated, earning a sarcastic eyeroll from him. “they’re flocked nutcrackers! and they come in white, pink, red, black… and i even saw a disco ball nutcracker, and…”

joe crossed the room quickly and silenced your ranting with a kiss. “bub, i promise, this weekend we’ll go find the nutcrackers, okay? for now, let’s decorate with what we do have.”

you looked up at him with big, puppy dog eyes. he was right, you needed to use what you had. “sorry for sounding like a spoiled brat.” you apologized, looking down at your decorations in defeat. joe chuckled at your reaction.

you continued pulling things out of the boxes, there was an endless amount of garland and strings of lights. you set aside the garland and lights for the banister of the stairway, the set that went outside, and the final set that went across the mantle. joe finally began digging inside a box, pulling out a bunch of tiny christmas houses and store-fronts wrapped in newspaper.

it was a village set that once belonged to your mother, but now belonged to you. you quietly reminisced on hours you’d spend with your sister imagining tiny people living in the christmas village, what they did for work and how they spent their life. you two always had the wildest imagination. a smile crept across your face as you watched joe unwrap them and place them in the exact order you liked. to be loved is to be known.

you took a box to the kitchen next, getting out all of your christmas themed hand towels to set aside for washing, and placing all of your kitchen trinkets in their designated areas. joe finished with the village and started working on decorating the banister. the sight of him decorating was enough to make you feel emotional, you didn’t ask or expect him to help.

he always just did it.

you kept your eyes trained on him, watching as he worked. he wrapped the garland and lights so carefully before plugging them in to admire them. you smiled at him as walked down the stairs, happy with how it turned out. “looks great, babe!” you assure him as he pulls you in for a sweet hug. he kisses your forehead before looking around the kitchen at all the things you’d placed around.

there was a mischievous glint in his eye as he looked at your favorite cookie plate that sat empty in the corner of the counter. “soooo…. you gonna bake some cookies for us?” he asked teasingly, tickling at your sides gently with his fingertips.

“mhm. what kind do you want?”

“chocolate chip, chocolate brownie… maybe some of those chai cookies you made a few weeks ago. and something pumpkin if you can?”

“you got it, babe!” you replied. you pulled him down for a sweet kiss, resting your arms around his shoulders as his hands found your hips. joe pulled away after a minute.

“i’m gonna finish up on the garland and lights, that way when you’re done we can do the christmas tree together.” he said, grabbing another set and heading to the porch to wrap them around the rails just like he did inside.

you finished placing your decorations around the kitchen and you put a few in the guest bathroom too just to feel extra festive. you always enjoyed changing the toothbrush holders to holiday themed ones, and changing out your throw blankets for the holidays, you could go on… being festive was something you were insanely good at.

joe always helped you decorate, even though he sometimes had a grinchy reputation. you watched him finish up outside through the window, and when he came back in the tip of his nose was red. he pulled his beanie down a bit farther over his red ears and you chuckled.

you didn’t let him get too far in the door before jumping into his arms, and he held you close to suck up some of your warmth. you placed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, then to the corners of his eyes, and then to both cheeks. joe smiled up at you.

he let you down gently and walked over to the giant box that sat in the corner. he opened it up and began taking out the christmas tree pieces and you grabbed the base, opening it up and placing it where you wanted it to go. one by one you pieced the tree together.

it took a while to fluff the tree, but since you were both working on it, it took a lot less longer than you expected. joe helped you wrap the silver-white lights around it carefully, and then you hung silver and gold ornaments all around it.

you stepped back and admired your work, shimmying and doing a little happy dance as you took in all the decorations around you. everything was perfect, and aside from a few treat-related things, you were essentially done decorating.

joe reached his hand into the final box and pulled out the last decoration, the tree topper. it was a glittery silver star. you suddenly remembered the height of the tree. last year joe had to finish decorating it, and you weren’t sure how he got the star up there.

“you need me to get you a step stool?” you asked him, already turning to head for the garage. “nah,” he responded quickly. “come back, i have a better idea.”

you walked over to him slowly, recognizing that mischievous glint in his eye. “joey…” you start, your eyes widening. he crouches down in front of you, smirk pulling across his face. “get on my shoulders.”

“hell no! what if i fall?” you ask incredulously. you couldn’t believe he was suggesting this… but then again, yes you could. “get on, it’ll be quick. you just have to put the star on!”

you roll your eyes at him. “fine. but if i get hurt then i’m gonna be really mad. and if i die i’m haunting you.”

“i’m looking forward to that.” he jokes, laughing as you gently kick his shin. “what? then you’d be able to see my every move. and watch me when i’m naked. ghost perv.”

you laugh incredibly loud at his joke before throwing your leg over and sitting on his shoulders. suddenly, you felt like a kid again, riding on someone’s shoulders on a hot summer day. you weren’t surprised joe could carry your weight, of course he could. you were more worried about your coordination and afraid you’d topple the tree over almost instantly.

joe handed you the tree topper as he stood, his hands holding a firm grip on your thighs. he walked forward slowly until he was directly in front of the tree, and you leaned over and placed the topper on with ease. you were happy that it went so well, because you were honestly scared shitless. joe backed up a bit and crouched again so you could hop off his shoulders.

you did another victory dance, giddy at how beautiful your decorations looked. joe scooped you up into his arms quickly, laughing into your neck as he began to press kisses to your column.

“you’re so cute.” he said with mirth, walking over to the couch and plopping down with you on his lap. you grabbed his face and pressed your lips to his, kissing him lazily as his hands slipped under your sweater and roamed over the expanse of your back. the sounds of your smacking lips and laboured breaths filled the room as your kisses drew deeper and deeper.

you began to grind your hips into joe’s subconsciously, and joe moaned into your kisses as his length hardened against you. the friction of your movements felt so good even though there were layers of clothes between you, and you moaned back against his lips just as fervently. joe began pulling your sweater over your head and you let him, gasping as the cool air hit your naked skin. you weren’t wearing a bra and the chill of the room hardened your buds almost instantly, but joe didn’t care. he began kissing at your chest, his tongue rolling over one of your nipples while his large hands grasped at the other.

you tilted your head back, moaning as joe continued his ministrations on you, and you pressed your hips into his roughly. joe pulled you closer to him, moving his kisses from your chest to your neck again before nibbling on your ear. “let’s take this to the bedroom.” you whispered, looking down at him.

he shook his head no before lifting you up and sitting you on the couch next to him. “let’s do it right here, i don’t wanna wait. plus i love the way the christmas lights look on your skin.”

you blushed at his comment and watched as he pulled his pants and boxers down his legs. his cock sprang free, the tip was angry and red. you leaned over and took him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down a few times to get him wet enough to slide into you. joe fisted the couch pillows in his grip as you hollowed your cheeks.

you pulled off him with a loud pop and quickly shimmied out of your shorts before throwing your legs back over his and hovering over his cock. he used his thumb to push himself forward and you sank down onto his length slowly, taking a few moments to adjust. while joe sat fully sheathed inside of you he began kissing you again, his hand finding their way into your hair as he held you close.

the intimacy of the moment ran a shiver through you.

you finally lifted yourself up slightly before quickly moving back down, beginning to ride him at a tantalizingly slow pace. joe hissed at your teasing but you kept going, moving to your own liking.

his hands found your hips and they gripped you firmly but he made no attempt to push you to go faster, he wanted you to enjoy this too. you continued your slow, soft, steady movements as joe let out quiet moans beneath you.

your legs started to feel a bit weak but you pushed through, yet joe sensed your uncomfortability. he finally began moving his hips upward, pressing his tip right into your sweet spot as his thumb gently rubbed circles into your clit. you gasped suddenly, the feeling of your orgasm finally taking over.

warmth spread throughout your body as you shook slightly above joe, and seconds later he came too, resting his forehead against your shoulder as he spilled into you. neither of you were quick to make a move. joe looked up at you and giggled and you tilted your head wondering what was funny.

as if he read your mind, he gave you an answer to his amusement. “guess you were my star on top.” he said with a wink. you pretended to gag at his cheesy joke before kissing him again, raking your nails through his hair.

“i guess we should shower.” he said softly, looking into your eyes and waiting for an answer. you nodded slowly, pulling off of him. he carried you to the shower before turning on the hot stream.

“after this we can have hot chocolate and watch a movie. plus, you owe me cookies.” he joked, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“yeah, and you owe me flocked nutcrackers.”

photos and dividers used are not mine. all cred to owners.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @bengals-barnesbabe @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @joeyburrrow @yomamaslays4lyfe

[sleepy-fiction]

FIRES OF SHAO LAO.

lin lie x f!reader x shao lao 🐉🔥 NSFW

syn: once a month on the full moon, shao lao possesses your club member, lin lie. on a uni camping trip, you get chased through the forests and pinned down by lin; whose fuelled with the fires of shao lao. his only desire? to fill you with the seed of god's and men's

tgs: bdsm, powerplay, hunter/prey, cunnilingus (fem reciving), breeding kink, oviposition, laying an egg, dubcon(?), brat/brat tamer dynamics, possesion, lin physically over powers reader, p n v, freaky and cringe

an: after days of trying to figure out a new, unique lin lie fic w a fresh story (that was different from the others), I finally found it. the Adam warlock fic is becoming my longest one yet, it's a enemies to lovers slow burn and it's taking some time to cook up!! so I thought in the mean time I'd drop another lin fic for the covettes (if ur waiting for the Adam fic ur gonna have to wait longer!!) yes this is inspired by the nessa barrett pornstar edit of lin on tiktok BARELY PROOF READ

5.6K WORDS (ESTI)

Your university's Mythology club put together a fun camping trip. There were 16 of you in total in the club, split between 9 girls and 7 boys. You knew that one of the members, Lin Lie, had a crush on you. It was obvious from the longing gazes he threw your way when he thought you weren't looking, or how the cute brunette would come up to talk to you after club meetings, running hands through his soft black hair, staring at you with those sweet brown eyes.

He was so handsome, you'd admit. He was large and muscular, though he tried to hide it under various dark sweaters. His hands were about as big as your head. His presence was strong, secure, and safe. You always let out a relaxed sigh whenever he was around. Uni is borderline hectic. All these kids start off their lives as fresh "adults" lacking the maturity of middle schoolers. Or at least, that's how you'd describe the men.

Lin Lie was a breath of fresh air. He was responsible, protective, and incredibly aware of his surroundings and social standing. He was the guy you'd flock to find at a frat party, and even if you didn't talk to him at it, you always made sure you were in his line of sight. You had no time for childish men, or any sort of relationship at all. You had a Bachelors to earn.

But still, you let the handsome Chinese man in your class talk you up. He was flirty and confident at times, unearthing a side of him you didn't know out side of the quiet, responsible one. There was something wild flickering behind his eyes. And you let him entertain you with it. It got to the point where you started getting giddy whenever he was around, already knowing what he was preparing to say, and how he would lean in close to say it.

So when this trip came around, you and many women of the club almost said no to going. That was the case, until Lin Lie decided to come along. That's when all 16 members decided to pitch in, instead of the original 6 that were planning to go. Being the woods with a bunch of nerdy uni boys sounded ass. Being in the woods with uni boys and the strong, masculine Lin Lie? Hell, that scale balanced over quick.

Lin Lie was popular.

Not that he'd agree. He was one of the popular loners, mysterious and incredibly fine, living a quiet and busy lifestyle. You similarly fit the description, but that's only because you were in so many clubs.

You remember the drive there, your club leader, Peter Parker, Lin's closet friend, had rented a bus for everyone to take everyone to the camping grounds. Oddly, as you got on the bus, you were hoping for Lin to sit next to you, but he didn't. In fact, he didn't even look at you. Unlike him, he sat all the way in the far back, his navy colored hood resting high down on his forehead. He looked pale, and he almost immediately fell asleep at the back.

You hummed. You leaned forward to the seats next to you, tapping your clubmate on the head. The blonde turned around, his honey golden eyes flickering with annoyance. You spoke, "Hey... What's up with Lin today? Doesn't he seem... kind of sad?"

"I dunno. Peter said something about him being ill..." He murmured.

"Aw damn. If he was sick, he should've stayed at the dorms... Poor guy," you whispered.

Another clubmate chimed, shaking his head, "Hell no. Lin can't stay home cause then the girls wouldn't wanna go."

The blonde classmate chuckled, "Yeah! I swear if the girls bailed I'd strange, em."

As if he could.

You couldn't careless about their convo after that, softly glazing back at his groggy form, how his arm twitched in his sleep. Your eyes softened, sadness dwelling in your body as you stared at soft eyebags under his eyes. Still you couldn't crack a tender smile. "Responsible as ever, Lin... You always sacrifice yourself for others," your heart grows warm.

Maybe if he keeps it up, you might fall for him. You chuckle sadistically to yourself, turning back around and plugging in headphones. Preparing yourself for the rest of the trip.

The view of the countryside from the windows were gorgeous, as you followed from the busy city to endless rolling hills to dense greenery with the charmastic, singing crickets. When the bus stopped at the campsite. You found yourself engulfed in fallen autumn leaves, orange and green leaves singing in the lulling wind, as the middle of autumn was quickly approaching. The sun was low in the sky, as the club quickly set up camp for the night.

After dinner, poorly made steak and salad by the guys (food you noticed Lin did not eat), Peter gathered us all up by the fireplace. He grinned with an ecstatic expression, "Myth-busters!" The shoddy name Peter made for the club, "As you all know, for the past weeks, we have been going over Greek Mythology. Now, today we are here because this is the perfect season to view Ursa Major! Ursa Major heavily conmected to the Greek myth, associated with the story of Callisto, a nymph transformed into a bear by the great and powerful Zeus," He called on.

The club cheered and dummed excitedly, and you too couldn't help but be swayed by his words. The sun was beginning to set. Peter pointed to the mountain behind us, "That mountain leads to a cliff clearing where we can see the beautiful constellation in full. We're gonna hike there."

The club was a mixed group of cheers and boos, but Peter paid no mind. "Here's the deal. We're going to split into pairs. We're gonna need a pair system to make sure all of us are heading up! It's gonna get dark out here, so there's no way in hell I'd let any of you get injured," he huffed. "So everyone, let's pack up our gear and get into groups," he cheered.

You stood along with the buzzing crowd, already giggling as you exchanged looks with a few clubmates. You already knew you wanted Lin. You nonchalantly rushed on over to him, your hands behind your back as you cleared your throat. "Hey, Lin. Why don't we be buddies," you asked.

He flinched at the sound of your voice, never turning around to face you. He stood there silently for a second, his shoulders tense, his hand grabbing onto his wrist. He cleared his throat, his voice gravelly and cold, "No. Someone's gotta watch the setup... Peter chose me."

"A-Ah," even you couldn't bear the sudden ice he was throwing your way. You almost dreaded the words, as you knew he didn't want to talk anymore, "You okay... Lin?"

He winces, "Just a cold."

"Ah... Hah. Well... Get well soon?" Your confusion is imminent as you rejoin the group.

Everyone had already split into groups, save Peter, who was the hike guide. And with the odd number now that Lin's out, you were all alone. Peter noticed the mellow aura about you, as his eyes nervously flickered from Lin to you. He had this knowing look on his face. He gulped with a nervous laugh, patting your shoulder, "He gets moody when he's really sick! Ah, the g-guy... You know, always want to protect people... Even when he's in pain, he thinks not showing it is uhm... N-Not uh," Peter was oddly nervous.

Well. Peter was always a little socially awkward.

But this? You narrowed eyes on him.

He knew something and was trying to hide it. Peter awkwardly squeaked under your glare, dropping a hand from your shoulder and clapping instead. "Well! Y-You can um... Be the backline watch! Make sure nobody strays from the path, and keep an eye out on... The-uh," he turns away from you, gathering the club with a clap, "Alright, everyone, let's go!" He didn't even stay long, as your glare got too suspicious. Too tense.

Something was up. Still, you followed up the trail, beginning your way up the mountains, the campsite slowly beginning to disappear behind trees, the sun almost set behind the horizons.

Something really wasn't right.

Your gut burned.

Instincts screamed at you to stay with Lin. He's never sick, and when he is, he's never so... Brooding, so dog tired, so growlish and cold. No way. You at least need to glance to see if he's okay. You cave in, giving the campsite and Lin one last glance as it begins to disappear behind trees up the path.

That's when you saw an odd beam of green light. It was bright and quick, the odd color was a neon teal, the kind present on digital ads, not in the wild. It shot like a beadon high into air before it was swallows quickly up by foliage. A strong urge of wind flew up from the direction. What the fuck was that? You stop dead in your tracks.

You blink.

The forest was normal, the chittering of cicadas and the singing of crickets. Nothing was out of place.

You're not crazy are you?

You blink again.

No you definitely saw something!

You begin to sneak down the path, catching the smallest glimpse of the campsite, with Lin no where to be found. It was weird as you tried to duck around to see if the trees gave way to more glimpses of him on the campsite, but it didn't.

A hand clamps on your shoulder, you gasp, as you hear Peter speak, "(y/n)."

You whip around. The whole club's stopped and staring at you. You gulp in embarrassment.

Peter's eyes become serious, as if warning you with them, "(Y/n) let's stay on the path. Lin will be fine. We don't need to go back to the campsite." His grip on your shoulder is so foreboding. Foreboding also, was the aura that surrounded you in this moment.

You didn't understand it. But you shut up quickly.

This was. A little scary.

"Trust me, Lin's gonna be okay. I'm his best friend, you know," Peter tries to get all cheery as he holds your hand and brings you back up the mountain with the rest. "You know what, guys, let's make smores when we get up there!" He says to the group as he slips back up to the top, and the line starts moving.

You stare blankly down at the ground, your grip on your electric lamp tight.

"Hey, (y/n)... You okay?" You hear MJ ask, her brown eyes melting with concern.

You shake your head, "Must worried about Lin... I hope he'll be okay by himself."

She smiles at you, tucking her wild brown curls behind her ear, "Yeah... Lin's strong. Don't worry."

Don't worry was what you told yourself when you made it to the cliff clearing. Don't worry, was what you told yourself when you helped set up the fire. Don't worry is what you told yourself as you mingled with the group. Don't worry is what you told yourself when Peter put out the fire so we could all see the constellation.

It was beautiful but.

You looked back at the pitch black, foreboding forest behind you.

That mysterious light.

You blink.

You've gotta check it out.

You glanced back at the club. Everyone was relaxed, drinking hot cocoa and enjoying their stores. All pre-occupied with drinking in the moment. Best of all, Peter was snugging up with MJ at the front of it all, lost in the sauce. If there was one thing you learned about Peter, was than when he was with MJ, he saw nothing else.

Neither did he, or anyone else who cared, as a few frats saw you sneak off, catch you dip away back down the trail.

This was so damn stupid of you. But you always trusted your institution. Something was wrong with Lin.

You can't help but think of the worst as you rush down the path. It's about a ten minute walk back to the campsite, but you're booking it like a mad woman, your heart about to erupt in your chest. You can cut the time in half if you go fast enough.

So many horrible anxieties rush your mind as you follow down the path, jumping over stones and missing entire flights of the steps entirely. But you're moving at a rapid, steady pace, a treat from the sports clubs you've joined to make your uni-life more memorable. You can't help but think, with a racing heart and panting lips, about Lin collapsing somewhere - somehow, unable to call for help.

And that green light. What the fuck was that green light?

RROOOOOUGHH

An earspliting growl ruptured your eardrums. It's sound was chasmic and ferocious, animalistic-- yet deathly uncanny. It stopped your heart dead in your chest, slowed time, caught you off guard as your head turned to where the sound came from, your foot in the air as you were caught in the middle of a jump.

The roar was animalistic. But it didn't sound like an animal.

It sounded like...

Just as your eyes turned, in this slowed moment, you saw a flicker of flowing green, unnatural as it warped behind a shady, black figure. It was human, glowing, setting two black eyes on you from the dark.

You screamed, missing your landing, your ankle rolling in distress as it collided unnaturally with the ground. Unnatural, as you slipped down the paths stairs, unnatural as you rolled down the steps and cried. Unnatural, as a firehouse gusto of wind overcame you, unnatural, as you felt terrifying arms encapsule your body. Unnatural, as with a hearty crunch of leavs and sticks, you found yourself pinned to the ground before the giant bone fire your club lit back at the campsite.

Unnatural as you peeked your eyes open to find... Lin Lie?

Lin stared down at you with dark, unreadable eyes, his lips downturn, both of your hands captured above your head with a single palm. You were breatheless. There was this teal aura whipping and flickering in the air around him. You watched it leak out of his skin like sweat and take flight like whimsical plasma. How his face was still cast in a dark, heavy shadow despite the glow of the fireplace. How his hoodie was torn poorly off his body, ripped in devilish places as the fabric stringed about like a useless accessory.

His body was glistening with sweat, and you could finally see how broad and muscular he was. He was cosmic, built like a Greek god, chiseled finely in some holy defile of purity, as you clenched in your panties immediately. His scent was strong as it floated with his aura, the smell of these odd, almost pheromone like scents dripping off his body. It made you squint and shudder off a breath.

But you couldn't look away from those broad shoulders, that barn-like chest, how his arms carried all the force and the raw powerful to put you out of your pitiful misery.

Aderaline was losing in you body, as you could suddenly feel how fucking badly your ankle burned. "A-Ahh," you whimpered out, breathless and afraid.

All of Lin Lie's body helped him push out of a deathly, terrorizing grunt, it spilled out of the bowels of hell, trilling with an animalistic flare.

You whimpered even more, unaware of how your eyes began to water. You squirmed helplessly, flinching to not upset up, as you mustered up all of your courage to cry, "Luh... L-Lin... What's gotten into you," you wailed.

He growled over uou again, sinking his head closer. You squeaked and flinched away, shutting your eyes deathly tight. Your breath was sucked out of your body as you felt him suck in a strong gust of air. It blew cold against your neck, a direct contract to the deep huff that he released on your neck, it was hot enough to burn your skin. It sent tingles of fire down your body where it met you, as when you looked down at it, surges of green plasma flowed down the waves of your body.

"Unngh haa--" it drew out your voice, the surge of energy forcing a vulnerable whimper out into the air. He breathed deep and doggishly against you like this, each time making your knees rattle, your thighs lock themselves tight.

Your head tilts back at the bonfire, your body drowning in the passionate plasma. It made your neurons fire, your pussy to throb, combined eith the raw smell of him, your mind was becoming hazy. "L-Lin! Get off muh-- me," you gasped out, feeling ever the more light headed.

Lin opened his mouth, but a fire of passionate mandarin slew out his lips. "Zhū shén fā, wǒ wúfǎ tíng xiàlái... Zhū shén fāshì, wǒ kěwàng nǐ."

by the gods, I cannot stop. by the gods, I long for you.

He boomed it in your ears, his voice deep and chasmic, it withered and hissed, echoed twice within itself, present with a glorious entity. Something straight out of a cheesey c-drama, yet it flickered devilishly before your eyes. He boomed with authority in thus moment Whatever it is that he said, your sanity was taken with it. You gasped erotically, sickeningly.

He boomed.

As if he were a god.

You lost it, tears flying out of your eyes, drowning in an array of endless desire, letting those sweet plasmas to caress your skin, letting yourself give way to that holy voice, letting your body limp like the helpless ragdoll you were. You were set aflame everywhere, the fear of his strength made you impossibly wet. This was something you didn't even know about yourself.

Lin's powerful hands rolled you onto your side by your hips. You slumped over, sliding your knee up, hiking your ass up in the process. You tried to pick your body up, with your hands, but you felt him sink onto his forearm behind you, his other hand cupping your chin.

You sniffled and whimpered in his warm palm, as it slipped up to hold your face, his large thumb wiping your under eyes.

His body was so close to yours. His face and lips so dear to your skin. You could feel his heat, feel it as he tilted his head, voice deep in your ears. He hushes, "Nǐ chàndǒu ba, wǒ de tùzǐ……wǒ xià dào nǐle ma? Wǒ xiǎng hé nǐ zuò'ài……wǒ xiǎng zài nǐ de zǐgōng lǐ bō xià yī kē shén de zhǒngzǐ..."

You're trembling, my rabbit... Did I scare you? I want to make love to you... I want to plant a god's seed in your womb.

You shake, slobbering out, "I-I... I want to... Please... I want to see Lin... What-- What have you done to Lin-- please... Lin.. Let me see your face." Your run down of mythology helped you deduce some god had possessed Lin. But you couldn't exactly figure out which one. Chinese Mythology was what got you to join this club. Lin himself hosted it, and it was filled with wonder.

But your brain was foggy with needy trembles and whims of sex and fear. You could feel Lin's broad chest against your side. The god turns your head to face him, and from the shadows of his face, you see Lin's hooded eyes glimmer with untapped zeal.

"For I am Lin,"

"Yīnwèi wǒ shì Lín,"

"And Shao Lao, who has saved this body,"

"For I have reborn him, and given him life. Therefore, once a full moon, Shao Lao owns it."

"This vessel hungers for you. My Lin.. I, Lin Lie, hunger to drop seed in you. The seed of gods and men,"

His voice echoes, two voices pouring out at once. One was the roar of a dragon, hissing in mighty mandarin, the other was Lin's, booming with prowess and power. Every word, it doubled like so.

Your hips buckled, your eyes heavy.

"S-Shao Lao," your memory flickered from Lin's passionate teachings, "The Dragon god slain by K'un-L'un, walking the earth without a heart-- resurrected by Yu-Ti, t-trialed to die again and again at the hands of t-the Iron Fists? That they may gain p-power through your deaths?" You spit out, trembling under the dragon's stare. It cackles delightfully at your words, well pleased as it leans down to rub it's nose against your neck.

Despite it being Lin, insides it's body, you can feel it's cosmic shift, noting that in this second, it was fully Shao Lao. You moan out, and it takes a deep sniff in the crook of your neck. He can smell how horny you are. Your panties are wet with slick, drenched to uselessly stick to your pussy like a wet bathing suit. Shao Lao is pleased by the scent, releasing deep, strained breaths.

"Yes, little one."

"B-But... What does a such a god want with me? Come now, S-Shao Lao... Breed me tomorrow, or the next day, where I will be ready to take care of you," you manage out, sweaty in his embrace.

The Dragon cackles, slipping a hand up your tank top, hot fingers trailing up your stomach and pushing up your bra, cupping your breast. Your nipple is hard already. He simply pulls and teases it.

"Wise, hare. The full moon will not arrive tomorrow or the next night. Neither would it any night but tonight. You cannot trick me. This vessel cries for your womb. And I, I am delighted by your wisdom and beauty. You have sealed your fate, you have interested me more. Behold, your your trickery has planted you in deep water,"

He growls out. Hearing Lin and the mandarin dragon echo such words in unison had your eyes rolling back, mouth agape. The dragon played with your nipples, squeezing them between rough fingers, dragging a hot, fiery tongue up your neck. You shudder and mewl out, your eyes already dancing between the clouds.

The dragon hums, a pleased trill escaping Lin's plump, sweet lips.

"Amuse me, rabbit. Why do you resist when your body aches with need? What do you gain except frustration?"

You giggle, gulping, "I waste a god's time and gain his fury..."

You hear a fiery rattle burn through the dragon's throat.

"Then shall I meet you with a heavy hand."

The Dragon scoops you up into Lin's gorgeous biceps, the crackling shadows around his face just hazy enough for you to see the face eating grin the dragon bares. You shudder, as it carries you into his den, or more commonly known as Lin's tent. He pitched his closest to the bus and farthest from everyone else, the rest of the tents in his circle were MJ's and Peter's.

The Dragon carries you into the teal tent, where you see shredded rope and mountains of bottled water stacked on the side. His tent was in utter disarray, but the Dragon pays it no mind as he drops you down on the plush sleeping bag. He undresses, and your eyes behold the gorgeous stature of Lin's bare body. He's wonderfully built, stockier than a barn, a giant powerhouse of pure muscle with a small waist. His cock is glorious, eight inches with a fat tip, his thickness stocky and grand. Your mouth watered.

Shao Lao kicks some of discarded rope, laughing,

"This vessel believed it could restrain me, prevent me from hunting you... Indeed, it is true that I would have not taken you. But you came down the mountain for him, did you not? It was you who sold this fate..."

You gasp in disbelief, but it doesn't fester as the dragon pulls your shirt from over your head, watching your breasts as unlatches your bra. Your pretty titties fly out, and you watch as a pink tongue emerges from the hazy black fog.

"You do, wish to be devoured, little human?"

You look away, "Is Lin okay?"

"This vessel only wishes for your safety."

"Ah... Then... Breed me, Shao Lao."

Behind the smoke, you can see the dragon's eyes widen. But something about it was so uncharacteristic for the proud serpent. Was it? Lin? You blink in surprise. Just as you notice the change, it disappears.

Shao Lao undresses you briskly, picking you up when he needs to, and you help him by kicking off your panties and pants when he drags them down. The dragon bares a deep, pleased sigh at the sight of you, admiring the way your body ebbs and flows, the softness of your skin, adoring your shape. He parts your legs with rough hands, you brace yourself as Shao Lao, in Lin's heavenly body, dives into your neck.

The Dragon nips and suckles your neck, using Lin's whole tongue to do so. Adverse to the way a human would do it. It's such a small detail you notice that makes your mind hazy, a reminder that a true god is trying to fuck you. He cups the other side of your neck tightly, forcing you into his sharp love bites and vigorous slurps.

He does so hungrily, diving out with unsatisfied huff.

"This is not enough,"

He hisses with all of his belly.

He drags all of his tongue down your collarbone and to your breasts, slurping one of your nipples up. It suckles and twirls it's blazing hot tongue around it, letting go with a pop as it swells around the underside, sucking you in fill his mouth, all while his freehand squeezes and teases your other.

You shiver and whimper, feeling his teeth against your skin. His jaw restricts, threatening to bite you. You know that if he did, you'd be disfigured. "Mm-aah," your pussy throbs.

He grunts worser, releasing you. His grunt is filled with pure agitation, his shadowy eyes darkened in a crazied haze.

"This human body restricts me... This is not enough."

It puff and heaves with anger, and with a strong vigor, the dragon slides his tongue down the valleys of your breast, down your ribcage, down your belly, over your womb, through your hair. And as he grabs your thighs, pulling them up in ease with thick hands, the dragon eats up your cunny in one full lick.

You whine as he uses all of Lin's tongue to part open your labia. The hot, fat muscle is fully flat against your hymen before it slides up and trills against your clit. You buck up into it with a cry, "S-Shao Lao!"

The Dragon hisses gleefully like a snake. It vibrates its tongue with ease against you, trilling up with a vigor as if it were merely rolling an 'r'. You jerk with all of you, as you reach and grab chunks of Lin's short raven locks. For a moment, sweet eyes gaze lovingly at you, but you fail to see it before it's overriden.

The Dragon licks up your clit with all of its tongue, the flatliness bigger than your clit as it strokes you once then twice, before he pulls a little away to speak.

"Tender, sweet, and juicy..."

Shao Lao burries his nose into your pussy, taking a deep sniff. The green energy sends tingles against your body. The dragon leans up, rolling out his tongue with a soft gag, there, from the midst of the smoke, you can see something round and orange glow, slipping out from the back of his throat. It slides down his tongue, revealing itself to be a little glowing orb, as it's guided right into your hole. The dragon leans forward, digging into your cunt as it forces it deep into your walls.

It sets you aflame, you grow impossibly more wet, drowning our from the magic of whatever it was that was placed within you. Your cervix sucks it up into your womb. And in awe, you can see it glow beneath your skin.

The Dragon laughs,

"I can perform much greater trembles than this in my original, blessed body. You truly are one graced human. You do not know the merit you are being bestowed, if you did, you would be worshiping me now... Paying hom--"

You pull Lin's hair, shoving your cunny back in the dragon's face, watching it disappear beneath the shadows. It narrows dangerous eyes on you. You only return with a grin.

The Dragon reaches, grabbing your wrist with a crushing pressure. You wince, pitifully letting go. As Shao Lao sits up, broad chest flexed forward with prestige. His darkened eyes glimmer with ferocity. Eyes that read, "you should not have done that".

Shao Lao drops your wrists, using Lin's mighty and quick hands to grab both of your ankles. He stands up with them, and with a scated cry, your body jerks forward, your legs held up in the air. He pulls higher, higher until your neck is the only thing keeping you on the ground. "Aah! Shao Lao! I'm so--" you can't even get a chance to speak, as Shao wraps his bulging biceps around your hips, dropping you in the candlestick pose, except your knees rest your legs on his shoulders, your hands shaking, helplessly grabbing chunks of raven locks.

With a deep, burling growl, Shao Lao buries himself into your cunny, trilling against your clit at an unforgiving pace, rippling his tongue against you in a fluttering frenzy, your throbbing clit swelling under the abuse. You cry out, saliva spat out in the intensity, as the way he's forced you down, you can't do much but claw at the dragon's biceps, or tug at his hair.

"S-suh-- Ahh! Shao L-lao! Ooh," you cry, your legs shooting up with an electric spark before slopping back down. Your toes arch, your breathing is constricted, overstimulated tears prick your eyes.

He'll only stop his devious defilement to suck and slurp up your clit in intervals between flickering his speedy tongue against it. The abuse complimented by Lin's fat juicy lips as the insides of them run over your clit inbetween slurps. He'll pull back to run a flat tongue side to side vigorously on your clit, only to slurp it up, suck on it, and smooth right back into flickering.

You yank intensely on Lin's hair, weak tears streaming down your face as your thrust into an intense orgasm. You legs jerk and fly up into the air, kicking at nothing before shooting straight up and flexing, flexing as you curse out into the sky. They never meet back down, as after your orgasm, Shao Lao is still on you just as intensely, not allowing you a break for your high. Your moans turn into frantic, pant-filled wails, slobbering sobs dribbling down your forehead and into your hair.

You rut into his tongue over and over again, trying to squirm but your hips are locked in place by meaty biceps. You're forced to look at the shadowed over pink-tipped nose Lin was always equipped with, buried into your vulva. You're bullied into another orgasm, cumming with all of your body again, he doesn't rest while you ride out your high.

You plead, while you cum hard, barreling out like a frantic shout, "G-Grace-cious-- Shao Lao pleas-suhh! Please forgive m-me! P-Please-- M-Mighty-- gaw--"

You can't continue as you groan out, finally feeling that fat tongue stop, laying flat against you. You sigh out, feeling your neck ache, and your senses return, your legs sag forward to your head.

"Mmuh! Sh-Shao Lao... I beg... aah... Please... forgive me-- I'm so... so aah... sorry... I'm sorry, S-Shao," you slur out, already fucked out of your mind.

By the grace of god, he releases your hips, slowly guiding you back onto the floor. You can feel your spine cry out with glee, your eyes rolling back with relief. Shao kneels between your legs still, biceps meaty and glowing, his arms folded forbidden, glaring down at you with serious eyes. Ever the reminiscent of Lin's face scolding and disappointed stare, shaming you of your very existence.

The god is still not settled.

You meekly reach and touch his elbow with the tip of your fingers.

"My god... My Shao Lao, please don't let this offend you... Remember your selfishless desire to bless me with the seed of a god's... Show me your true self, your kindness... Please take me another way to subside your rage... S-Show me... Show me who you are," you whisper-mewl, a whorish expression of need overtaking your face.

Shao grins.

He slams his large palms on either side of your head, your flinch, the ground shakes beneath you. Your body is sent aflame in shivers, excitement dribbling throughout your body. Your hands greedily trace down Lin's gorgeous body, feeling his gorgeous chest, it's bouncy and built. You moan out under Shao's stare. He's not moving again.

You whimper, "God hurry up Shao."

He laughs, finally taking in your sweet lips, slurping up your tongue, burning with passionate friction. He leans upright as you melt into the kiss, slapping down your titties, your nipples arching into them. He sits you up with ease, grabbing your ass, kissing your neck as he commands, "Turn around, bunny."

Your eyebrows quirked, too fucked out of your mind as you obeyed, slipping back to turn around, your ass popped back for him to enjoy. You sprawl out almost immediately, doing the cat yoga stretch, arms out infront of you, palms against the floor, ass up and perked.

You can hear Lin hum deliciously, his voice ebbing with lust.

Something's off.

You ask, "My dragon, does this pose please you?"

"It does, my bunny," speaks, rubbing your ass with both hands.

You grin, "Does it please your vessel as well?"

He pauses, then speaks again, "It pleases Lin greatly."

Lin Lie.

That was you wasn't it?

Did Shao switch so he could have this?

You stay quiet with your knowledge, a purr of excitement building up. The knowlege intensifies the feeling of Lin's fat tip kissing your entrance. You moan in anticipation, rocking against it, as he grabs full control of your hips. He waists no time to plunge in, his hard, fat cock slips right in from how wet you are. It doesn't even hurt either, as you bottom out eight inches of burly, stocky thickness in milliseconds.

You wail, toes and fingers curling up. He pulls back even a little a slips right out of you, releasing a charmastic laugh. Lin... It really was you wasn't it. He slips in, your walls expanding in fullness, the feeling enlarging and all compassing. Your hymen muscles burn and enjoy the stretch, both loving and hating it, blending into a delicious mixture as he slowly thrusts in and out.

The plunge is deep into your walls, stimulating the farthetes depths of you with a fat thickness. It's a sultry sensation, as your jaw slacks, as a marvelous gasp whines out of you.

"Mmh, you like that? Shao Lao's fiery cock," he hisses out.

You giggle, "Yes, m-mighty Shao Lao."

He starts to fuck into you now, speeding up with a haste precision. You moan, but it's interrupted as Lin slaps a heavy hand against your ass. The stung is sharp, burns with a hiss before it's washed away with the tides of pleasure. "I'll show you, Shao Lao's fury," he moans out.

With one hand he grips your hip in a vice, the other comes crashing down on your red cheek as he fucks hard and deep into you. His hard, hot rod slices you open, as you stretch and flex about him. He can feel your pulse when he digs in deep, how your pussy squeezes vice around him. "Aah-- Fuck, r-rabbit," he's trying so hard to keep up the facade. But you already know if Shao Lao was here, he'd slam into you relentlessly, not caring if your knees gave out; without moaning once, as he fucked you into the ground.

That's not to say Lin isn't doing you justice right now. You can barely handle this speed, as you whine and cry, as he penetrates your poor pussy, fucking into it with barely any care, slipping around and enjoying the clap of your pretty ass. He cracks a punishing blow against your already red and bruised cheek, enjoying the way you welp.

"Aah-- Mm- Come take this God's cock," he grabs you with both hips and slams you back into him. You jerk onto your palms with a breathy mewl, as he begins to pump you on his dick like a fleshlight.

"Fuck-fuck-- Lin!" You cry out, your orgasm surprising you. What sent you prematurely was how his tip slammed your cervix, the sensation painfully delicious, it sent you into a frenzy.

He didn't give in, as he dropped his head back, using his pumping biceps to pull you all the way off, just to carelessly slam you back down. "Gimme' your damn hands," Lin hisses, ans obediently you give him one at a time. He grabs your wrists, pulling you back, forcing all your weight to be dependent on him.

You jerked about like a ragdoll, overstimulation riddled in your body. Despite this being Lin, you could still feel his energetic plasma flicker around. He was supercharged and boundless.

Lin started to precisely bump his tip down against your g-spot on his way to your cervix, fucking up into you to meet in the middle, loving the way your walls spasmed from the aftermath of your orgasm. Your moans were useless screams by now, the sensation of your speedy abuse complimented the pusles from your swollen, defeated clit.

You whine, "'M cummin' M-- Cumming!!"

"S-shi-- (Y/nn)," he whines.

With one satisfying slam, Lin shoots hot rods of cum into your womb right as you splatter, coating the orange orb in your body with your cum, as it sucks up Lin's. You feel the orb vibrate in your womb and it glides down to your cervix, feeling it push back against Lin's cock.

You gasp, "L-Lin! Pull out!"

He obediently listens, laying you down and slipping right off. With a heavy grunt, your push the growing orb out your body, as it expands in your vagina, before slipping out the size of a large duck egg. You frantically look back, eyes wide in shock.

Right between your legs is a duck egg sized, orange orb.

Your eyes flicker up at Lin, his eyes are darkened and hazed over.

"S-Shao Lao," you cry out in fear.

He crashes as strong hand against your ass. You yelp, but he smooths it over with the carress of his palm.

"Why are you surprised, my hare? Have I not fulfilled my blessing?"

"I'm-- I'm on birth control! That's the only reason I said yes, I can't raise a baby," you huff.

"Not a human child. You will hatch another god. She will know her purpose the moment she hatches, and will take flight to it... We dragon's do not dwell on sentimentality the way humans do... Our affection for our birth is shown in our magic and prowess... Not hanging around as useless, crying, flesh... Your daughter will bless you, much like Lin as the Iron Fist."

Your eyes widening in shock, unable to process which sentence was crazier than the last.

"What the fuck are you talking about!"

"You are immortal now, (Y/n) (L/n). Your have bore the seed of the next generationg of gods."

"What!"

You heard the voices warp, as Lin speaks, "(Y/n) I didn't know this would happen."

"What... The fuck... " you whisper, blinking, "so do I sit on it until then- o-or?" A humiliated flush covers your cheeks as your turn back slowly, carefully sitting down on your sore, stretched out ass.

"I will guide her in the realm of the gods. She cannot stay here on Earth. But she will return to grant you one blessing, before she starts her eternal journey at home... Where she belongs. We dragon's are not meant to be bound to humans... But I am. For the--"

You gasp, "Wait!"

"Yes, my hare?"

You point at Lin's body, "He's The Immortal Iron Fist?"

"Yes. He is my vessel."

Your slaw lacks.

"Your friends will be arriving soon. I must take my leave, my hare. I will breed you again, for I must spread my seed--"

"What!"

"Until then, I implore you to enjoy my vessel..."

The smoke and plasma mix together spining above Lin's head, and out of it comes a glorious dragon. Heat surges the room, as the flying serpent is made of pure fire, it swallows the egg up in an instant, turning back from wince it came and descending into the cloud of smoke into Lin's body.

You watch Lin surge and gasp, no longer drowned in a shadow haze. His skin flushed and bright, his lips bright red and bruised, the taste of pussy still lingering on his taste buds. You watch his shaggy, sweaty hair lean down over his raven locks, his sweet eyes wide with shock.

No one says a word.

You slowly drop your head down onto the sleeping bag.

"What the fuck just happened?"

There's a this guilty look on his face as he sits next to your feet. "I'm sorry about that I-- Trust me, (Y/n), I did everything in my power to stop that. Shit, once Shao Lao learned I like you... In that way... He sort of... Listen I'll tell him off, me or him, we won't ever see you again. This will not happen again I will assure you."

You pause, quietly staring at the top of the tent. "Nah," is all you whisper.

He perks up, "What?"

"Don't go away... I sort of... I like you Lin... I tried to deny it, but I do. I was so worried about you, you know... I'm sorry for... My part in this... If I said no then we wouldn't be here," you sigh.

He gasps, "Oh god, no, I should be apologizing.. No matter what I'm the one who should've--"

"I'm not mad, Lin," you flush.

"I yet you're saying that now but--"

You wince, "For fucks sake, Lin! I'm saying--" you stop, watching as he leans forward, eyes plagued with worry. You pause and correct your tone, "I'm saying I liked it... I liked it. I mean its kind of an honor to be fucked by Shao Lao... I wanted it, and I don't really care about the damn dragon god baby- if its anything like its father it'll fuck off and be conceited-- I just... I want my bachelors, and... I don't mind... Seeing you, m-more after this."

Lin stares at you with bewilderment.

You squeak ans hide underneath your palms, "God this is too surreal."

He gulps, "W-Welcome to the superhero squad?" He tries to be funny.

"Fuck you," you're mad, but, a grin splits your face open, man your pussy feels good. You were stunning in the after glow. You'd do it again, with Shao Lao. And as you glance up at Lin, who flashes an amazed smile at you. You'd do it again with Lin too

He lays down next to you, folding his arms on his chest. "You're pretty kinky, (Y/n). You always seemed so regal," he whispers it. His face bright red.

"I can't believe you're Iron Fist," you mumble. You look over at him, he joins you. "You think my dragon'll grant me with riches," you blink.

"Mm," he looks up in thought, "Maybe. They usually gift items. Like my family's heritage is a sword. Maybe... Maybe you'll get a lucky necklace that makes extra money grativate in your life." He blinks at you.

"Mm... Maybe that's shallow thing to ask," you sigh

"Nothin' wrong with money. I like money," Lin speaks. "Besides, you can ask for something else after the second dragon you make," he giggles, leaning up and wrapping arms around you.

"Yeah I could-- Hey! S-Second," you whisper, laying hands on his broad shoulders.

He chuckles heartily, caressing your face with his thumb. "You okay? How's your body?"

"It's fine actually, it doesn't hurt surprisingly? Maybe the egg's got something to do with it," you whisper.

He sighs, "Good. I'm glad you're safe." You relax with Lin, as he drops his forehead down against yours, releasing a relieved sigh. You revel in the soft tranquility, its a great contrast to the endless brutality of Shao Lao.

God what the is your life going to be like now with these two. Or well one, who knows if Shao'll be back next full moon. He's got a baby to take care of. Lin helps you onto your side and spoons you, wrapping a warm hand around you, cupping a titty while he's there. He buries himself into your shoulder, running his nose along your edges. You flush.

You squeak out, "Why's this more embarrassing than the..." Although you can't finish your sentence, he chuckles, but he doesn't flee from giving you affection.

"Actually--"

"(Y/n)! (Y/n)," You hear Peter shriek from distance.

The two of you shout, "Oh fuck!"

You scramble to get dressed, but you're too weak to stand. He ushers you into the sleeping bag once his pants are back on, and he tries to wipe away the cum stains with his shredded hoodie. When the flurry of voices searching for you get closer.

Lin frantically unzips the tent,sticking his arm out as he waves bashfully to everyone. He's mer with a flashlight the the face. "She's fine! She's here! She-- uh... Ran back to," he doesn't have to finish it. Everyone can get the vibe from here.

Afterall Lin's disheveled, sweaty, and shirtless. It's MJ who laughs first, mostly in a mixture of pure horror and relief. Then the rest of the club follows short, but Peter's quick to dismiss everyone.

"Alright! Shows over go off to bed guys," he cries. MJ slicks off into Peter's tent, and Peter's takes the time to frantically rush over to Lin. His eyes are bulged out, terror in his voice, "Dude? Does she know? Is she okay? Did Shao do anything?"

Lin shushes him, glancing back you with a reassuring smile before whispering, "She knows I'm IronFist, and it's a crazy story that I'll tell you later - But Pete' she's immortal now too."

He shrieks, "What!"

[elliyoyo]

Adverse Effects (Gale Dekarios/Reader)

Hello hello, long time no see. With over 700 hours on BG3, I figured it was about time I cracked my knuckles and got to work delivering the goods. Hope you enjoy and just a reminder: Requests are open!

Desc: You give Gale a magical ring but don't check it's magical properties first. He ends up hot and bothered, and it's on you, good leader.

Warnings: Smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), sex pollen, and a good ol' creampie

Words: ~2.5k

“My condition is worsening again, I need to consume some powerful magic, or it may become volatile,” Gale begs, nearly collapsing against the tree trunk behind him as he missteps behind you and the rest of the group. If not for you stopping, Astarion and Lae’zel would’ve kept trekking along, but you weren’t just going to leave your poor resident wizard behind after all he had done. He clutches at his chest, heaving as he expectantly looks at your pack for an item to extinguish the enchanted flames building inside of him.

“Here, Gale, use this.” You offer a ring you dug out from the pile of jangling jewelry collecting at the bottom of your bag. The pink stone seemed to glint and shift colors as it was plucked out of your fingers, but you paid it no mind.

He examines it for a moment but has no problem rasping out a “thank you” before pressing it to his chest and letting himself absorb its magical energy. One moment, he’s engulfed in a purple, violent flame, and the next he breathes a sigh of relief, sans ring. His desperate breathing slows and his pain seems to be minimized, however, he is still looking off into the hills, dazed as all Hells.

“Doing alright now? How was that one; still helping less and less as we go?”

He solemnly nods, the relief of the magic already fading away from him. He collects himself for a moment, turning into the dull full-body aching that was a new, not-quite-unwelcome side effect… Better than having no bodily sensation at all in the grave, eh?

“This one was off… different… But I should be alright. Thank you very much, again.”

Should be alright was far from the truth, as you would find throughout the day. Missed attacks, too many close calls to be comfortable with, and just general Gale mishaps that were worthy of genuine concern. One specific battle called it— every single spell missed its target, or had a payoff so low that it would’ve been laughable in some other scenario. After narrowly avoiding death for almost 8 hours straight, you’d had enough and it was time to make sure this was the end of it.

“Okay, I’m beaten, and I bet you guys are too, so how’d you feel about heading back to camp for the night?”

“Yes! Gods, Heavens, Hells, yes, my bedroll is calling my name like a harpy,” Astarion proclaims, throwing his arms in the air dramatically. Lae’zel seems to agree in her own more contained, Githyanki way, pressing her lips together with a subdued nod. And Gale, standing there still-dazed, could only nod and turn in the direction of camp. Your eyes met his for only a moment, but in that moment, you saw a half-lidded wildfire going on, yet you couldn’t help telling yourself he must just be tired as all Hells as well.

So, as you make the trip back to settle in for the night, you can’t help the confusion that hits you when you catch him rubbing and adjusting his waistband. Can’t help but be intrigued by the little faces and noises he makes as he does it. Seems like that ring you gave him had some adverse effects…

Interesting.

Astarion had scurried off to his set up, Lae’zel immediately went to work on maintaining her sword, and Gale took off inside of his tent at mach speed. No grabbing a book, no sly joke, nothing, just bolted out of sight. You take a moment to say hello to and check in with everyone else around camp, but Gale stays prominent in your mind. As you realize nobody else is around to see you flocking to his tent, you clear your throat to let him know you’re there.

“Are you alright in there? Is it the tadpole, or do y—”

“What did I previously say about privacy? I just— ah— don’t feel well at the moment, I’m a little out of my element,” Gale stutters out between gasps and breaths through his teeth. You keep your eyes fixated on the telescope in the front, waiting to see if he continues, but he falls silent.

“Out of your element how? Something you ate, overexertion, magic-related…?”

“Magic-related. For sure. But alas, I’m a wizard! Made of magic! Perfectly capable of handling it, so you should just get some sleep. Forget about my ailment for the night, and it should be dealt with by the time we have to depart in the morn.”

“No, Gale, I’m sorry, but I’m coming in— make yourself decent,” you joke as you walk in, not expecting him to be gripping his cock tight as could be. You gasp, trying to find something, anything, else to look at, but all you keep coming back to is his rubbed-red and raw, weeping head. “Gods, wha— are you alright? What is going on?”

“That ring is happening. It was enchanted, obviously, but differently than we initially thought.” He’s so casual about it that he doesn’t even seem phased, continuing to slowly caress his shaft. “I, uh, I apologize, it’s like I’m charmed, aroused by nothing in particular, it’s strange…”

“Is there anything I can do? Is there a…” You trail off, clearing your throat and turning to look at the moon above you. “Uh, anyway I can help?”

“Without your mouth? Unlikely.”

And he goes beet red, cursing his jabber jaw, his blabber mouth, his fatal flaw of not being able to just shut the fuck up. Clearing his throat, stammering as he pushed out a rushed, “I’m so sorry, you should go. I should stop, this should stop— I didn’t mean to offend, I’m so— Oh gods!”

Without any hesitation at the offer, happy to help a friend in need, and very happy that said friend happened to be Gale, you’re closing the makeshift tent’s door and dropping to your knees in front of him. Even with him lying down, you can still wrap your hand around him and give him a few firm tugs.

“I can do a lot with my mouth, but I can still work some magic without it if you will.” There’s a devilish glint in your eyes as you continue tightly jerking him off, his eyes and mouth wide open in shock and insane pleasure. He’s unable to will any words to escape him, save for the moans, groans, and grunts that involuntarily slip from his sweet lips.

“Is this—” He’s broken off by a whine as your finger grazes over his tip. “The ring? The enchantment?”

“No, no, I don’t feel off, I just… want you. I desire you. I’ve thought of this— maybe not like this exactly— but I never thought… I would ever have a chance.”

“Well, here I am, at your disposal, so please, please.” His eyes flit between your lips and himself, wishing, waiting, hoping, praying to feel the warm, beautiful wetness of your mouth around him. And as if you read his mind, you happily oblige, leaning down under his hiked-up robe to wrap your lips around his head and gently suck. His head flies back in ecstasy, fingers gripping the blanket beneath him to keep himself from tearing your hair out or pushing your head down to make you choke on his cock, as much as he’d love to feel the sensation of the latter.

Small rhythmic bursts of sucking turn into licking him down to his base, tracing a vein or two on your way down, which then turns into lazily dragging your tongue over his balls while your hand makes up for the lack of attention higher up.

“Can I… touch you? Please?” He gives a tug on your shirt. And who are you to say no to Mr. Wonderful, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep? You pull your nighttime shirt over your head slowly, exposing your bare chest to the chilly evening air. 

“Are we… both okay with this? Are we on the same page here? Is this okay with you?” You can’t help but rapid-fire questions at him now that the thought of him being under the ring’s influence has intruded your mind. He shifts his hand to your face, letting his index finger gently rest against your lips.

“This is not just the ring. I… have harbored some feelings to do with you for quite a while now. It’s all just pouring out at once now, but I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my life, I can tell you that.” That was all that you needed. That confirmation that he wanted to know what it felt like to sink inside of you as much as you wanted to know what it felt like to have him fill you nearly to the brim.

“Then come here,” you whisper, just barely audible enough that he follows your instructions. His lips crash against yours in a deep kiss, his fingers knotting into your hair to keep you as close to his overheated body as possible. He is desperate, teeth gnashing against yours and capturing your bottom lip at points, saliva mixing and temperatures rising. 

“I don’t know who or what enchanted those rings as such, but I must acquire several more if this is the result; me being at your will… needing,” he pants out, still holding your foreheads together.

“Let’s get through this first, then we’ll see about finding some more aphrodisiac trinkets. Tell me more about your growing need, my dear evocationist?” You lazily slip your leg over his waist and begin grinding yourself down against his exposed length. The pressure combined with the texture of your pants’ fabric puts him in pure ecstasy, obvious by the small whines that leave him and the way his teeth catch his bottom lip in a pathetic attempt to hide them.

“My need for you— it hurts, it burns in my core,” he pushes out like a plea for help. His eyes are glossy, his body vibrating with arousal, pleasure, shock, disbelief… and pure attraction.

“And is that right there good, Gale?”

“Gods, yes, don’t stop unless I get to be inside of you,” he groans, bracing himself against the ground to grind his hips in time with yours just a bit harder, further, more any way that he can.

“Ask and you shall receive.” You push yourself off of him, pulling your slacks and undergarments down to the ground. There’s a moment of low, shallow breathing, where both of your eyes dilate as you simply take in the sight of each other. Pleasuring yourselves, more for the other than yourself, and drinking in the expression on the other’s face. The point was to tease him and see how long he could sit in anticipation, but you find yourself getting impatient enough to forget all of that and pounce on him.

You take hold of him by the base and carefully guide him inside of you. It’s impossible to put the fullness you feel into words, it’s all-consuming, and it sends shivers and shakes through your entire body. In sinking down on him, you feel as if you’d been reunited with your girthier other half— complete. A wonderful pressure begins to bubble up in your abdomen as you begin moving, evident to him by the way your nails dig into his shoulders. His hands have found their place on your hips, and in no time, they’re gripping you half-to-death. He’s using his tight grasp to slam you back down onto him, meeting you in the middle. The symphony of skin against skin was sure to be keeping quite a few of your companions up, but it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission in this scenario. His mouth finds its way to your chest, gently taking a nipple between his teeth and grazing his skillful tongue over it.

His lips make a soft pop as they unlatch from you, and all he can do in this moment of boiling hot lust is prop himself up on his elbows and watch you in all your glory. He gazes up at you with that same half-lidded gaze you saw on him earlier, except there’s a bit of boyish wonder. He’s not just perceiving you, but admiring you. One hand eventually trails its way up your leg to your waist, and he begins to help you come back down on him harder, faster— his twitching legs and quick breaths gave away that he was already getting close from the change in pace.

“Gods, Gale, you’re so good,” you groan as you lean forward, forcing him to sit up a bit to support your head as you rest it on his shoulder. This just gives him more of a chance to fuck up into you like a wild animal, chasing more of your moans and his climax. “Fuck! Gale, please!”

“I love this, I love you, I love the feeling of you, I love it!” His voice goes up and up and up until his high pitched breathy ramble is cut off with one last loud groan. Now it’s your time to admire; eyes screwed shut, forehead scrunched up as his mouth lays open wide. With the show you were getting and the feeling of him filling you with warmth, you were helpless against the waves of your own orgasm crashing into you. You two take a moment, nothing but the sounds of your gasps for air between you, limbs still intertwined and sweat still mingling.

“If all I have to do is ask for this, what do I get if I really beg?” Blabbermouth, indeed. You pull his chin up to give him a sloppy kiss, continuing to hold his face as you pull yourself off of him, making a mess of him as his cum drips out of you.

“Save it for next time, I’ll think of a few things we can try down the road,” you joke with a small chuckle as you allow yourself to fall on your back and reach for your clothing. “How’s everything feeling with, uh… the ring?”

“Yes, yes, that was very beneficial. It was like my body was held in lava, until I felt your touch.” He gazes at the mess you two have made, but makes no moves just yet. He pushes his hand through his hair and takes a deep breath, beginning to fall into a daze admiring you as you dress. “Are you going?”

You pause. Are you going? Should you stay? Would that make the journey awkward? What did this mean for you and Gale, that you had slept together to help him out after the being influenced by some magical ring? There was nothing there besides the ring?

Gods damn it all.

“No, no, I just... I used a cloth that was lying around to wipe myself off, it was instinct to get dressed afterwards.” You avoid the question, hoping to take his mind off of your quick separation from him instead of any pillow talk. You fold the cloth you used and hand it over to him, looking away while he cleans himself up as if you didn’t just ride him into next week. “Any way you could conjure a second pillow?”

“Anything you wish, so long as you join me tonight.”

And you do. And many nights after.

[arobinwithoutbatman]

"Mom and Dad said that too. That I'm weird, they never called me Timbo though. Timbo isn't my name, it's Timothy but I prefer Tim, it's less fancy. They never called me Tim around other grown ups though, they said it was too casual and childish."

He's still speaking so matter of factly despite everything coming out of his mouth. But he's still following Jason, big ice blue eyes watching every street sign and landmark and trying to memorise every twist and turn he's led down. He's not familiar with a lot of it, honestly he'd left familiar zones a while ago, somewhere in attempt three of leaving the orphanage. This was attempt five after learning who was most likely to stop paying attention and least likely to try and find him. He's pretty sure he made it to the Bowery this time, this area was unfortunately kinda poor; was Batman doing anything about it? He hoped so.

The Bowery looked so much more interesting than sparkling clean Bristol but it didn't look very comfy or homey. To be fair, neither did Tim's home; always empty and cold. Jason was nice to him. Jason was already much warmer than his own parents.

He stayed silent for at least thirty minutes until Jason started to slow down a little.

"Are we almost to where you live?"

@arobinwithoutbatman continued from here

Well that was…good. Objectively concerning, but good for their current situation, he supposed. Good at doing what he was told and staying out of sight. That’d be a big help for the kid, out on the streets. Well, so long as he was following the orders of the right kinds of people.

Just blindly doing what he was told would absolutely get him killed. Or worse.

Jason blinked down at the hand held out to him, his brow furrowing. He looked at the kid, back at his hand, back at the kid. Slowly, he reached out and took the hand, giving it a quick shake, before he was on the move again.

He didn’t look back to see if the kid—Timothy Drake, absolutely some rich, Bristol brat—was following.

“You’re weird.” Not an insult, just a statement with a twinge of amusement in it. “I’m Jason. And we’re goin’ somewhere safe, Timbo.”

It probably wasn’t a great idea to bring the kid to Jason’s ‘home’—he could be some sort of spy or something. But he was so small and pathetic, like a drenched kitten, and Jason felt bad even just thinking about telling him to fuck off and leaving him behind.

[childrenofcain-if]

Alternate universe where D is a football player because I can honestly see it 😂

They'd still be FwB with MC, who's a cheerleader (I love cliches heh). But at one of their final matches, they immediately run to MC after winning and kisses them in front of everyone. I've been thinking about this a lot

the locker room smelled like a nauseating mixture of sweat and antiseptic. there was an overall nervous energy in the whole area because of the upcoming game: the biggest of the season.

yale (bulldogs) vs princeton (tigers). the oldest college football rivalry in america since 1873. truthfully though? you really did not have that as your priority at the moment.

D’s shoulders were tense as they leaned against the row of lockers, their football gear half on, half off, like they couldn’t decide if they were gearing up for the game or gearing up for this conversation with you. you stood in front of them, your arms crossed, trying to hide the way your voice wavered as you spoke.

“why are we even doing this if it doesn’t mean anything to you?” you asked, your words sharper than you’d intended. you didn’t want to sound hurt, but the cracks were already showing and you hated yourself even more for it. “you said you loved me, D. was that a joke?”

D flinched, their jaw tightening.

“it wasn’t a joke,” they muttered, not meeting your eyes. “you know it wasn’t.“

“then what the hell is this?” you gestured between the two of you, the space that felt both too close and too far apart. “why can’t you just—” you stopped, biting back the lump rising in your throat. “why can’t you just be fair to us for once?”

D ran a hand through their damp brown hair, their helmet still sitting on the bench behind them. “because it’s complicated, alright? i’m really not good at this. i don’t know how to—”

“how to what?” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “how to be with someone who actually loves you? how to let yourself care about someone? how to not be a complete asshole?”

their silence was worse than any answer they could have given. you felt the sting of it like a slap.

“forget it,” you said, your voice quieter now, resigned. “this isn’t worth it. i’m not worth it, apparently. not to you.”

“don’t say that,” D said quickly, their voice low and rough, but before they could step toward you, the door opened, and your cheer teammates poked their heads in.

“hey, come on!” one of them called, her tone light but urgent. “we’ve gotta go!”

you hesitated, your gaze flicking between D and the exit. you wanted them to say something—anything—that would make you stay, that would make you believe this wasn’t just another dead end. but they didn’t.

so you left, letting the door swing shut behind you, leaving D standing there with their heart in their throat and everything unsaid on their tongue.

***

the stadium was alive in a way that almost felt sentient, the roar of the crowd reverberating through the air, through the ground, through your chest.

the cheer routine was designed to dazzle; full of sharp, explosive movements, tight formations, and splits that skimmed the edge of possibility. every count of the eight-beat rhythm had its place: a high V at one, a perfectly synchronized clap at three, a ripple of tumbling that broke apart and came back together like a flock of birds midflight.

there wasn’t room for hesitation. you had drilled it for weeks, the choreographer shouting corrections until the moves were muscle memory. your body knew what to do, even if your mind was stuck somewhere else.

somewhere else was D.

you couldn’t see them from the sidelines, not at first. the field was a mass of bodies, yale’s blue and white clashing violently with princeton’s orange and black, and it all blurred together under the floodlights.

the roar of the crowd pressed against you, a wall of sound that rattled your ribs, the kind of noise that demanded participation. you gripped your pom-poms tightly, smiling like your heart wasn’t threatening to give out, and launched into the first set of motions.

high kick. clap. shimmy. back handspring.

on the outside, you looked flawless, exactly like what the crowd wanted: all energy and excitement, no cracks in the façade. on the inside, your chest was a knot, the fight with D replaying on an endless loop in your head like a broken VHS tape.

the pyramid was next, the most complicated part of the routine. the bases braced themselves, strong and steady, while the flyers climbed onto their hands. you were in the middle, the top of the pyramid, the highest point for the crowd to see. it was a position of trust. you had to believe your teammates wouldn’t let you fall. it wasn’t something you usually thought about, but tonight, the irony cut deeper than you wanted to admit.

when you extended into the final pose, one leg straight, one bent, arms raised, your eyes landed on D for the first time.

they were in the huddle, standing tall as the team circled around them and the coach, their helmet tucked under one arm. the older man was shouting something you couldn’t hear, D’s face fierce with focus. you wanted to stay angry, but instead, you felt your chest tighten.

D was magnetic in the way they moved, their command of the team absolute. you hated how much you still wanted to be near them, how much your body betrayed you even when your heart was screaming.

the pyramid dismounted, your teammates catching you as you came down. you barely noticed the applause; you were too busy watching D jog onto the field for the first play.

***

D’S POV

D glanced toward the sideline. toward you. again.

it was ridiculous, the way you could disarm them from thirty yards away. you weren’t even looking at them. your head was bent close to one of your friend’s, your pom-poms hanging loosely in your hands. you were supposed to be listening to your captain, but D could see the faint smile on your lips, the way you kept sneaking glances toward the field like you weren’t paying attention at all.

like your eyes were searching for D.

D tore their eyes away before anyone could notice. they didn’t need their teammates teasing them about this—not right now. it was bad enough that their chest felt like it was caving in every time they saw you, bad enough that your fight before the game was still fresh in their head, your voice sharp and shaking, your words a blade sliding between their ribs.

why can’t you just be fair to us?

the truth was, they didn’t know how to. not the right way. not in a way that didn’t make them feel like they were standing naked in a room full of strangers, every scar and bruise and ugly thing about them laid bare.

you deserved better than the mess that they were. you deserved someone who didn’t flinch at the idea of love. someone who could give you everything without being afraid they’d ruin it before it began.

but even as they told themselves that, D knew they couldn’t let you go. not really. not ever.

“alright, team,” coach barked, snapping D back to the present. “this is it. princeton’s undefeated this season, but so are we. you want to be champions? prove it. show everyone you’ve got what it takes.”

the team roared their agreement, slapping helmets and clapping shoulders, the kind of camaraderie that made D feel grounded and restless all at once. they shoved their helmet on and jogged out to the field, their cleats digging into the turf, their breath coming steady and sharp.

they could do this. for the team, for the win, for yale.

no.

for you.

***

the first quarter passed in a blur of plays and hits, the kind of bone-rattling intensity that left D’s hands shaking with adrenaline. they took the snap, rolled back, dodged a tackle by inches, and launched the ball downfield.

the crowd erupted as yale’s receiver caught it just shy of the endzone, but D didn’t stop to celebrate. their eyes found you again, like a compass always pointing to their north star.

you were clapping, your pom-poms bouncing, but there was something off about your gorgeous smile. it didn’t reach your eyes, and D knew it was their fault. they’d put that ache there, and it killed them to see it.

focus. they had to focus.

***

the second quarter was worse. princeton’s defense was relentless, their linemen big enough to make D feel small—a very uncomfortable thing. every play felt like a war, every hit a reminder of how close they were to losing. the score was tied at halftime, and the locker room was a mess of noise and sweat and tension.

“get your head in the game, diaconu,” their coach snapped, pulling D aside as the team filed out. “you’re playing like you’ve got something else on your mind. whatever it is, leave it in here. got it?”

“got it,” D said, even though they didn’t.

they didn’t leave it in the locker room. they carried it back onto the field, where it sat heavy in their chest, driving them forward and holding them back all at once.

you were watching. D could feel your eyes on them every time they stepped up to the line, every time they called a play. it made them want to be better, to play harder, to show you that they weren’t just a coward who couldn’t say the words you needed to hear.

it wasn’t enough to just win. they had to earn you back.

***

YOUR POV

you watched in horror as princeton’s linebacker, a hulking person who looked more suited for professional wrestling than college football, blindsided D after a throw.

it was a dirty hit, helmet to helmet, and D went down hard. you froze, pom-poms slack in your hands, as the crowd erupted in boos. for a second, D didn’t move, and your chest seized with panic. but then they rolled onto their side, their hand going to their helmet, and relief flooded through you so fast it made you dizzy.

they got up, wobbling slightly, and waved off the trainers who tried to check on them.

your fingers dug into the plastic of your pom-poms, the edges biting into your skin. you wanted to scream at them to stop being so stubborn, to let someone take care of them for once. but you were stuck on the sidelines, powerless to do anything but watch.

it was the last quarter and the score was tied, and every play felt like life or death. the crowd was on its feet, the noise deafening, as D took the snap for the final play. they dropped back, scanning the field, their movements precise and fluid. princeton’s defense was closing in, but D didn’t flinch. and then, with a leap that seemed to defy gravity, they threw the ball downfield.

touchdown.

the stadium erupted. the crowd screamed. the cheer squad jumped and waved their pom-poms like their life depended on it, but you couldn’t move. you just stood there, your heart pounding, your eyes locked on D.

they ripped off their helmet, their face flushed and damp with sweat, and for a moment, they let their teammates surround them, clapping them on the back, shouting their praise. but D’s eyes were searching, scanning the sidelines, until they found you.

and then they ran.

it wasn’t graceful or dramatic—it was desperate and urgent, like they couldn’t get to you fast enough. the crowd blurred around you, the noise fading into a dull hum, as D closed the distance between you.

they didn’t stop when they reached you, just grabbed you and pulled you into their arms, burying their face in your shoulder like they were afraid to let go. you could feel their heartbeat racing, their chest heaving as they caught their breath.

“i’m sorry,” D said, their voice muffled against your uniform. “i’m so sorry. i’m an idiot. i was scared, okay? i love you and i didn’t want to screw this up. i didn’t want to screw you up.”

you pulled back just enough to look at them, their gray eyes raw and unguarded, and you felt your own walls crumbling rapidly.

“you love me?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

D nodded, their hands gripping your arms like you might vanish if they let go.

“i do. i love you,” they said, their voice cracking. “i love you so much it scares the hell out of me.”

you didn’t even realize you were crying until D’s thumb brushed a tear off your cheek. you let out a shaky laugh, leaning into them.

“i’m still supposed to be mad at you,” you said, but there was no heat in it.

D smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made your chest ache.

“yeah,” they said. “but can you be mad at me and be completely mine?”

you nodded, choking back a sob as you wrapped your arms around their neck, pulling them into a kiss. the noise of the crowd surged back in, louder than ever, and it mingled with D and your teammates hollering suddenly. but it didn’t matter. nothing mattered except D’s lips on yours, their hands on your waist, the way they held you like you were their centre of gravity.

when you finally pulled back, D rested their forehead against yours, their breath warm against your skin.

“will you still be cheering for me, baby?” they asked, their voice soft but hopeful.

you laughed through your tears, pressing another kiss to their lips. “always.”

[livestosave]

@caeloservare liked for a starter!

       The training rooms at Atlas Academy had always been one of Qrow’s favorite parts of visiting the frozen continent. While he rarely had the chance to use them himself, unless he had been sent on official errands for Oz, the huntsman had usually contented himself with the occasional chance to watch the goings-on. For all that he loved Beacon with heart and soul...well. Little compared to the sheer adaptability of the Atlas training rooms.

      The chance to actually participate? To draw Harbinger, and let the program throw grimm at him until he wore himself out? That was...thrilling. Or, of course, if Clover or Winter was available, to use the changing arena to make a more interesting fight? Well. How could a man resist?

      Sanguine aura flickered across his skin as the latest wave of holographic grimm faded, the program giving him a few moments to decide how he was going to proceed. A drink of water...a wince.

      Qrow’s mouth twisted in distaste as his shoulder and back twinged, the tremble of his right hand nearly enough to send Harbinger out of his grasp. Carefully, the corvid shifted his weight to settle himself on a small wall, catching his breath as sweat dripped from his graying hair and he tried to get the trembled back under control.

      He wasn’t ready for the doors to the room to open to James Ironwood, but the general and headmaster was met with a wry huff of tired laughter. At least it wasn’t one of the kids.

      “Need something, James? I may a need’a minute ta catch my breath, but ya can tell me what it is while I do.”

      And if he shifted Harbinger to his left hand, and tried to tuck his right against his stomach, well...he was a master at pretending he was fine at this point. Even sober.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Anything for You

daemon x daughter!reader 

Summary: Daemon helps settle your nerves before you go and question potential husbands. After you run out of the hall feigning an illness Daemon makes sure you are properly cared for. 

Warnings: 18+ the whole thing 😵‍💫 thigh riding, oral(f), waking up to oral, fingering, p in v, use of the word daddy which i feel belongs under the warnings, also reader is a slight crybaby 

Authors Note: I’ve taken enough psych classes to know i’m cooked 😔😮‍💨 no mention of who the mother of reader is or really any specific time in the hotd universe but reader is of age and daemon has short hair bc daemon w short hair 🧎🏼‍♀️

Word Count: 3.1k

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

I pout looking in the mirror as my handmaidens tie me into my new gown. It’s the perfect length and hugs my body before fanning out and flowing behind me. The detail is perfect to my wants and the silk feels like a second skin. The color is a shade darker than I wanted and I’m trying not to let it ruin my mood. Several pairs of hands smooth and braid my hair. When it comes to them pining my hair I have to clench my jaw as they press against my scalp. I wince as they step back and I get used to the amount of pressure that is slowly causing my head to throb. 

“Are you okay, Princess?” my handmaiden scrunches her brow. 

“I want my father.” my frown deepens and another one of my handmaidens runs out of the room a moment later. 

“Is there anything I can do?” another handmaiden comes to my side looking at me. I shake my head and get up to sit on my couch and wait for my father. My handmaidens once again flock to my side and offer me different drinks and snacks that I all turn away. My door opens and my father walks in. 

“Prince Daemon.” my handmaidens whisper together, quickly curtsying and padding out of my chambers. 

“What took you so long?” I whine looking up to him. 

“What’s wrong?” he stalks over to me. “I was in a meeting.” he tilts my chin up so I can look at him. 

“My dress isn’t the right color.” he lets out a chuckle at my words. My chest tightens and my eyes start to well with tears. “And my head hurts.” my voice breaks and he looks down at me with a raised brow. 

“You called me from a meeting because of your dress and your head?” he squats down to me. 

“I’m sorry,” my lip wobbles as my tears fall over the edge of my eyes. He’s quick to wipe them away and pulls me up from the couch and sits down with me in his lap. “I just wanted to look perfect for later.” my voice soft as he continues to cup my face wiping my tears away. 

“I think you look divine, sweet girl.” he presses his lips to my forehead. “All of the men here for your hand will go absolutely mad when they see you.” his hands travel down my spine and rest on my hips. 

“I don’t want any of them.” I throw my arms around his shoulders and bury my head in his neck. His arms wrap around my waist and hold me against him. 

“You don’t know them yet.” his chest rumbles with laughter. 

“I don’t want to.” I mumble into his skin. I tangle my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and I scoot impossibly closer to him. 

“Stand up so I can see this gown that’s causing my beautiful princess so much distress.” he starts to lift me off of his lap. I stand between his legs and he leans back to take in my form. “What’s wrong with it?” his hands reach up and slide up my sides. His fingers squeeze into me as he turns me around. 

“It’s not the right color.” I gasp as his hands squeeze my bottom. “It’s too dark.” I purse my lips turning back to face him. 

“What would you like me to do?” he looks up to me with an amused expression. 

“Make me feel better.” I push my bottom lip out. He sighs, shaking his head and starts to lift up my skirts. He harshly tugs me onto his thigh and I squeak as my core rests against his trousers. 

“We have to be in the great hall within the hour.” he pulls me forward on his thigh. I start to move my hips against him and he presses his forehead on mine. “That’s my good girl. Taking what you need.” his fingers dig into my hips helping move me faster. 

I rest my head on his shoulder as I hump against his thigh. I whimper into his neck and he starts to lift my skirts up digging his fingers into the soft flesh of my thighs. His thumb quickly circles my covered bud and I whine into his neck. “Please daddy,” his other hand stays on my hip and grinds me down. My eyes screw shut as my hips jerk feverishly in search of pleasure. 

“Gods look at you.” he mutters, swirling his thumb faster. I shake in his arms as my spine goes straight. My high rips through me while high pitched gasps pour from my lips. I pant into his neck and he slowly trails his fingers up and down my thighs. “That’s my good girl.” he smiles against my forehead as I come down from my pleasure. 

“I don’t want to wed any of the men downstairs.” I cling on to his neck. 

“I wouldn’t let you even if you wanted to.” I lift up from his neck and look at him. “We still have to go and pretend.” I frown at his words. “If you’re good I’ll give you a reward after.” his eyes darken. 

“I’m always good.” I purse my lips. 

“Lying is naughty.” he squeezes my waist with a raised brow. “I’m going to get your handmaidens to come back in here and freshen you up and then I’ll escort you to the great hall.” he lifts me off of his thigh and fixes my skirts. He presses a kiss to my brow and leaves my chambers.

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

I walk into the great hall holding onto my fathers arm tightly. I try to keep my eyes forward while we walk between the crowd of men and take our seats on the dais. My eyes snagged on a couple of the men but my father keeps me moving forward. He takes a seat next to me and studies the men in front of us and I look on at them with a soft smile, surprised to see that I find a couple of them handsome. 

“What happened to not wanting to entertain any of these men?” my father whispers into my ear. I turn to him with flushed cheeks and he smiles. “I still won’t allow you to marry any of them.” his words have a bite and I nod my head turning back to the men in front of us. 

I fold my hands on the table in front of me and watch on with a smile as the Hand begins to introduce the first man. I lean forward and listen intently as the first man tells me who he is and what his house can offer me. The Hand looks at me and I shake my head and he dismisses the man who stares at the floor on his way out. This process repeats for five more men until one of the men who caught my eye steps forward. 

“What is your name?” I sit up and the man smiles in front of me as he spouts out his name and house. He tells me about a life he has planned for us that I couldn’t care less about. I sigh as he rambles on and I hear my father chuckle next to me. “Mm, well thank you.” I offer him a smile before shaking my head to the Hand to dismiss him. 

“Did you see the way his face crumpled?” my father laughs and shakes his head. I let the men drone on and dismiss one after the other. “I tire of this.” he sighs, leaning back into the chair. “Pick the others you like to step forward and dismiss the rest.” he says loud enough for the men to hear. 

“I will not.” I hiss looking at him in horror that he would embarrass me. 

“I told you to be good.” he says lowly between his teeth. I call the Hand over and whisper and point at the handful of men. He dismisses the rest and my father offers them a taunting wave as my cheeks flush. The few remaining men walk up to the dais with a new found sense of confidence. “Really?” my father hums looking at me in surprise at who I picked. 

“They were the handsomest options.” I shrug and watch a smirk spread across his features. The first man is called forward and smiles at me. 

“Firstly I wanted to offer you a happy belated name day, princess. Nine and ten becomes you. Second, I wish to tell you how exquisite you look.” he bows his head as I hear a choked laugh from next to me and see my father covering his mouth. 

“Thank you.” I offer him a genuine smile and listen on as he tells me of his home. I turn to my father with a frown. “You’re embarrassing me.” I whine and he rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the man speaking. 

The Hand continues to keep going down the line of men not waiting for me to prompt him. As they continue to drag out my afternoon I start to form a pout of my lips. I can’t listen to another minute of this. I sigh and push my chair back. My father and the Hand look at me curiously and I smooth my skirts before walking down off the dais. 

“If you’ll excuse me. I’m feeling,” I pause thinking of an excuse as everyone stares at me. “Faint. Terribly so.” I nod my head and continue out of the hall. I take the first corner and sprint up the stairs trying to create as much distance as I can. I continue down hall after hall suddenly finding myself in an unfamiliar area. I slow my pace and stay close to the walls. 

“You’ve gone far for someone who is feeling faint.” I jump at my fathers voice. He stalks over to me and presses me against the stone. 

“I got lost.” I blink up at him. “I started to feel better once I left the hall.” 

“That was very naughty to run out like that.” he presses his body against mine. The breath is stolen from my lungs as his hand engulfs my chin to turn my head and attack my neck. I cling onto his arms while he nibbles against my heated skin as the stone bites into my back. 

“I’m sorry.” my voice completely wrecked as he kisses up my jaw before looking down at me. 

“Let’s get you back to your chambers so you can rest. I’ll have your handmaidens make you a bath.” he smirks at my heaving chest and leads me back down the steps. Once we get back into the main halls he holds me tightly. “You should’ve told me you weren’t feeling well. I would’ve helped you back to your chambers.” my father makes a show of bringing me back to my chambers and my handmaidens are behind ready to prepare my bath. My father finally leaves once I’m behind closed doors and my handmaidens flock to me. 

“Let’s get you out of this gown, princess.” I’m quickly untied from my gown and sigh in relief as I step out of it. I’m whisked to my bath and smile as I see the steam still rising from the water. My handmaidens pour in soap and oils and begin to clean me. I relax back into the water and rest my eyes. They bring me tea and bring the cup straight to my lips. I allow them to dote on me and frown when there’s a knock on my doors. 

“Prince Daemon.” my guard announces and shuts the door. I peek an eye open long enough to see him dismiss my handmaidens and begin walking over to me. A smile starts to spread across my features as I hear him kneel down next to the bath. 

“How are you feeling?” he rests his hand against my forehead. 

“I was just going to have them come get you.” I open my eyes looking at him. “I need you.” I whine. 

“I’m here, sweet girl.” he removes his hand from me to grab the cloth. He gently rubs my arms with the soap while I rest my head back on the lip of the tub. 

“I’m sorry.” I mumble nibbling on my lip. 

“For what?” he hums, starting on my other arm. 

“Leaving the great hall. You told me to be good and I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” he presses his lips against my forehead. 

“You’re still a good girl. You apologized.” he finishes my arm and rises to grab my towel. I stand from my water and he watches as the droplets fall off my body. “You’ll always be my good girl.” he wraps the cotton around me, starting to dry me off. 

“Do I still get my reward?” I look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please,” I push my bottom lip out. 

“I can never say no to you.” he leads me over to my bed and lets my towel fall away. He helps me lay back on the bed and hovers over me. “I’m just going to give you some kisses.” he purrs before attaching himself to my neck. His lips travel down to my breasts and I gasp as he sucks my nipple into his mouth. His teeth tease the hardened bud and I mewl beneath him. 

“Please,” I whine, burying my fingers in his short hair. He kisses across my chest to swirl his tongue around my other nipple as I continue to buck up into him. I watch as he makes his way down my torso and kisses down my thighs. He holds my legs open as he ghosts his lips along the sensitive skin between my thighs. 

“How are you feeling?” he looks up at me from between my legs. 

“Hot.” I whine, squirming in his grasp. I pant as he kisses back to my center and a cry falls from my lips as his tongue circles my bud. “Daddy,” I pull his hair and he grabs my wrist holding it against the bed as his tongue starts to lash against me. Whimpers and pleas spill from me as he licks down my slit. He releases my wrist so both of his hands can grab my hips and grind me against his face. 

He pushes his tongue into me and I squeak above him. My legs quake as his tongue keeps exploring. He licks back up to my bud and encases it with his lips. I slam my legs around his head as his tongue flicks relentlessly. My pleasure bursts through me as my hips jerk wildly against his face. He softly licks me as I tremble before sitting back to take in my blissful state. 

“Thank you.” I reach out for him. “Thank you,” I mumble again as he lays down and pulls me against his chest. 

“Anything for you, sweet girl.” he presses his lips against my forehead before covering me with the blanket. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

Sleep is trying to pull me back in but my breathing is causing me to wake from my dreams. Small gasps leave my mouth and my eyes slowly flutter open. I blink around my dark chambers waiting for my eyes to adjust and feel my hips softly jerking. My mind begins to wake up and I look down to see my fathers head buried between my thighs. I take in my nude state seeing my nipples glistening with his spit as they’ve been sucked into hard peaks. He opens his eyes and looks up at me and when he sees me awake his tongue starts to move even faster. 

“Yes, please, daddy please,” I whine grinding my hips against his face. He pushes two long fingers into me and my legs trap him between them. He starts to slam his fingers into me and I shake as my pleasure washes through me. When he sits up I notice his lack of clothing and I suck my bottom lip into my mouth. He leans down over me and presses his lips against mine. 

“I couldn’t resist you.” he mumbles against my mouth. His hardened length slides through my wetness and I whine as it pushes against my core. “I need to be in you.” I wrap my legs around his waist at his words. He presses himself into me and I whimper at the familiar stretch and sting. 

I breathe out pleasure slurred whimpers and pleas as he rocks his hips into mine. His pace is slow and languid until he hears my high pitched gasps. He grinds into me before pulling almost all of the way out and slamming back into me. His pace is harsh and has me digging my nails into his back. My ankles lock behind his back as he pounds into me as I begin to fall apart beneath him. My hold on him loosens and I begin to slide up the bed with every snap of his hips. 

“Taking me so good.” he pants before smashing his lips against mine. My chambers are filled with the sounds of my wetness and our skin meeting one another. I cry out as I feel my stomach start to coil. “Your sweet little cunt always squeezes me so tightly.” he pants resting his hands on either side of my head. 

“Please,” my voice cracks as my legs fall open on either side of his waist as he hammers into me. 

“Daddy will fill you up, don't worry. I always take care of you. Don’t I, good girl?” he grunts as his rhythm begins to falter. I nod my head, unable to form words as my pleasure causes my eyes to roll back. He slams into once more before I feel his warmth seep into me. “So fucking good for me.” he groans slowly rocking his hips. 

He slowly pulls out of me and presses his lips against my forehead. “Go back to bed, good girl.” he hums, pulling me against him once. My eyes heavy with sleep and pleasure close with ease as I curl into his side allowing sleep to take me back. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌 

freud would’ve loved this xx 

Part 2

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @arya-brooke @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @moonymoo1 @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme @multilover19 @alexxavicry @cedstars @fuckalrighty @mrsmunson-harrington @misspendragonsworld @nz2004

[worthless-weight-in-gold]

@detectivewoof​

Jim couldn’t actually prevent all inconvenient situations from happening forever. Hell, even if he did have the ability to, the amount of effort would be unreasonable. He liked sleeping in far too much to commit to that. Besides, the odd slip up from his coworkers kept things interesting -- nothing to solve if things always went right!

That, however, did not mean he was enthusiastic about the most recent fuck up. Failing to properly dispose of a dead boy, especially a human, was a different level. It was being looked at, properly, and by the types of eyes Jim’s gang was usually lucky to avoid real scrutiny from.

Whatever. It was fine. Jim could deal with it. He just needed to get ahead of it -- frankly, he was willing to let his gang all burn if he had to because he could always find another damn one. It’d just be annoying. He was probably getting scoped out, and either he was going to get arrested or having someone supernatural pull him aside. At least, if someone hadn’t looked incredibly hard for a long time, Jim didn’t look like he ran the gang. He looked like he was borderline one of their victims -- working for them, sure, but being sold for his supernatural beauty and allure, and the reason he didn’t run could be explained by Stockholm syndrome. Not a key target, at least, just someone who knew what was going on.

He found himself an appropriately isolated building, because the more people around the more cautious he had to be with his power. Couldn’t fully let loose, but he never really could, anyway. As expected, hoped, someone did show up. Tall someone. A nice benefit. Jim faked a little jump in surprise, a quick intake of breath, then someone schooling themselves to appear calm despite an undercurrent of anxiety. Eyes just a bit too wide to look comfortable. Fingers twitching like they were avoiding a nervous tick. He eyed the -- surprisingly angry -- man carefully, and waited for him to speak first.

[taintandviolent]

Something 'bout Her ; Jimmy Darling x Reader

summary: Jimmy Darling has fallen hard for the new lemonade stand girl (reader). She consumes his every thought, and one summer day, he decides to invite her on a picnic date. Little does he know, she's had a thing for him, too.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 2.4K | female reader, smut, use of pet names (mainly baby since I overuse that in Jimmy Darling fics), no use of y/n, some light fingering, grinding, and good ol' fashioned fucking (p in v).

a/n: a quick little somethin' somethin' - requested by @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re! divider by @/strangergraphics!!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / playlist here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

There was something about her. 

Something that had wound Jimmy up so tight; his heart gave a squeeze every time he saw her. He knew he was in too deep, too deep for a gal that he’d have to leave in a few months, but there was just something about her. 

But before he’d gotten himself in trouble… he’d met her. It was Elsa’s fault, if anything. The Freakshow had gained popularity, a moving, breathing machine that was ever-changing. One of the most recent additions was that they now needed to provide refreshments for the patrons. With that, came the need for employment – and Elsa, of course, had only hired the prettiest girl to run the lemonade stand. It was good for business, she said. And, it turned out, it was. People flocked to her during their open hours. 

She was everything Jimmy dreamt about when he laid his head against his pillow; from the way she moved, to the light, breathy sound of her laugh, she was a gem. A diamond. One that twinkled so bright, it had blinded him. So, really, could anyone blame him when he decided to lay the flirt on nice and heavy one summer day? 

“Hey there,” he said. 

“Well, hi,” you replied, a slight lilt in your voice. You leaned forward on the podium, resting your elbows on the painted wood. 

Jimmy grinned a lopsided smile and leaned against the edge of the stand. 

“What can I getcha’?” You asked, innocently. His heart thudded in his chest. There she went again, just living and driving him crazy. 

“Well,” he started, scratching the side of his face with a conjoined digit. That was another thing, he didn’t have to hide himself around her; she accepted each member of the troupe with open arms, treated them as if they were normal. She was kinder to him, to everyone, than most girls ever were. “I’d like a lemonade… but most of all, I just came to talk to you, baby.” 

You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks flush at the mention of baby, your heart fluttering desperately in your chest. Every interaction you’d had with Jimmy Darling had been viewed through rose-tinted glasses. You were enamoured with him and his undeniable charm. You licked your bottom lip and leaned back a little, questioning his response. “Talk to me? About what? Lemonade?” 

“No…” He trailed off, looking into your eyes. 

Thud-thud. Your heart skipped another beat and you had to fight to control your breathing. 

“Then– then, what?” 

“What’re you doin’ tomorrow… before the show?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. Nothing, I suppose.”

Jimmy swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He had to just come out and say it, it was now or never. He’d mustered up the courage and if he waited any longer, he’d lose it. “Wanna’ have a picnic?” 

You clasped your hands together, your eyes glittering with excitement. “Who is going to be there? I can bring cherries… I just bought some from the mark–” 

“No, baby. I mean, you can bring the cherries, but nobody’s comin’. Just you n’ me.”

“Just you and me…” You repeated, trailing off. “Jimmy Darling, are you asking me out on a date?” 

“What if I was?” 

“Well, I suppose I’d have to say yes.” 

“Yeah? You would?” 

“Yeah… I would.” You leaned forward on the podium again, your eyes flicking towards the empty field. A few cars were pulling in, arriving early for the show. “I’d love to.” 

So, Jimmy had performed that night with an unusual energy in his step. Eve noticed. Paul noticed. Elsa noticed, but didn’t care enough to speculate why. Performers… a fickle bunch. He’d spotted you in the audience, at your usual spot at the entrance, with your arms crossed over your chest. He’d winked, and you’d blushed. 

The next morning, Jimmy was up early. No earlier than he usually was; Ethel was a hard worker, and was usually up with the first birds and Jimmy had inherited that habit from her. Today however, he had a reason. He’d showered, and was in the kitchen tent, making chicken salad sandwiches before the sun had even started to warm the tent. 

At around 9:30, he’d knocked on your trailer door. You, too, had already been up, your nerves making it impossible to sleep past 7:00. By 9:00, you’d done your hair and makeup, and sat on the edge of your bed, picking at your manicure. The bowl of cherries sat on your small table, along with a few Cherry-A-Let’s, as a treat for afterwards. You’d made an extra pitcher of lemonade the night before and stored it in your trailer. So when Jimmy’s big knuckles rapped on the door, you bolted towards it, smiling wide. 

“Hi Jimmy,” you cooed, dreamily. 

“Hi, baby…” He had a folded, checkered tablecloth tucked under his toned bicep, and his hand was wrapped around the handle of a basket full of sandwiches. There it was again – baby. He had a real habit of making your heart go berserk underneath your rib cage, causing it to hammer against the bones like it was trying to escape. 

The walk was a short one, but the summer heat still coated you in a thin layer of sweat as you walked, carrying the pitcher in your arms. The ice had long since melted, but you hoped it would still be refreshing. The field was surrounded by long, slender trees, and up ahead, you saw another clearing. It was smaller, and a large Willow tree provided some shade. Once you were upon it, Jimmy dropped the basket, shook out the table cloth and laid it on the ground. 

“Sit.” He demanded, walking you towards the fabric. You set the lemonade pitcher down next to the tablecloth and sat, smoothing your dress out as you did. Jimmy made quick work of laying out all the food, and got you and himself a sandwich from the basket. He pulled a radio from the basket and set it down, using his thumb to twist the knob until a clear station came in. Music floated on the warm air, and you began tapping your toe against nothing in time with the beat. 

“You take all the girls up here, I bet…” You took a bite of a sandwich and set it carefully on the tablecloth. 

He cleared his throat, readjusting his position. “Would ya’ believe me if I said I didn’t?” 

“I don’t know. I see the way you look at all the pretty girls in the audience, Jimmy. I’m no fool.” 

“Yeah, well… none of ‘em even hold a candle to you. And I mean it, this is uh… where I come to clear my head. Only Eve knows about it. She found me up here once.”

Your gaze softened at his confession. Whether or not it was true, the sincerity in his voice had you believing every word. You reached for a cherry, before popping it in your mouth. Your teeth punctured the flesh and the sweet juices flooded your mouth. 

“Lemme’ have some of that sweet lemonade you made, would ya’?” 

You reached for the pitcher and looked around, a disappointed expression muddling your features. Jimmy furrowed his brow, wanting to know what had upset you.

“Oh…” you said sadly. “I forgot to bring glasses… how foolish of me!” All that prep, and you had no way to drink the lemonade. Suddenly, a lewd idea popped into your head. Your cheeks and neck immediately flushed, and your hand came up to your chest, where you pressed it softly. No… I couldn’t…. But I could. 

“Jimmy,” you started. “I could pour some in your mouth… I’ve got real good aim, I promise.” 

Jimmy’s dark eyes widened and he swallowed, cocking his head to the side. “You wanna’... uh… alright.” 

You brightened up at his acceptance and got to your feet, bringing the pitcher with you. He didn’t have to know – but he did  – that this was also selfish, because the idea of pouring lemonade into Jimmy Darling’s mouth was oddly erotic. 

“Tilt your head back,” you said, as you moved to slot him between your legs, kneeling down over him and looking down at him with an unbridled lust in your gaze. Jimmy, the wonderful, willing man he was, obeyed and tipped his head back, looking up at you with a slightly nervous expression.

“This is one of my good shirts… don’t miss, huh?” He chuckled warmly. 

You shook your head, your coiffed waves bouncing with the motion. You lifted the pitcher above his face and lined the spout up carefully with his mouth, before tilting it forward and letting a healthy stream of the liquid fall down his throat. The sun caught the lemonade as it went down, a glittering flow of sunlight and lemon juice. You couldn’t help but stare at his throat, stretched and exposed, sunkissed and warm. Jimmy swallowed once, twice, and then reached up to tap your leg, signaling that he’d had his fill. You brought the pitcher upright and silently congratulated yourself on keeping your focus. 

With his cheeks full of lemonade, he swallowed again, and looked to you, grinning. You were still happily on his lap, your knees on the outside of his thighs. Though originally innocent, the heat between your bodies was quickly doubling, tripling even, and you felt him shift his hips back. You immediately shifted yours forward, pressing your core against his. 

“Can I taste…?” 

Jimmy’s eyes went wide. Wider than before. “I don’t know about that baby, I’m afraid I’d…” 

“No, I meant…” You leaned forward, pressing the tip of your nose against his. “Can I taste it? Here…” 

Jimmy’s eyes searched yours for a moment, his heart pounding, before he crushed his lips against yours. They were soft and sweet, and your breath rushed out into his mouth, smelling faintly of cherries. Your tongue darted out, slipping into his mouth, and sure enough, the taste of lemonade met your tastebuds, sugary and refreshing. 

You deepened the kiss and readjusted your legs, bringing yourself closer to him. Jimmy let out a deep, throaty sound that reverberated in your mouth. You felt your core clench with arousal, twinging with heat and couldn’t deny the wet pooling between your legs. 

“Jimmy,” you murmured into his lips before pulling away. “No one is going to find us up here, right?” 

Still reeling from the kiss, his jaw hanging slack, Jimmy shook his head. The silence hung heavy, but he blinked, forcing himself out of the daze. He cleared his throat before down the length of your body. “No, babydoll, no one is gonna’ find us up here. Eve knows we’re up here, and she’d stop anyone that tried.”

“Good,” you said, your hands snaking underneath the side of your dress, to your waist. Your fingertips brush along Jimmy’s cock, which is already hardening rapidly. You gasp and pull back, looking at him with big, bright eyes. “Jimmy!” 

“What?!” He harshly whispers. “You can’t… kiss me… like you are and not expect me to get all riled up.” 

You look at him, a slow smirk twisting around your lips. 

“C’mon baby… touch me. I know you wanna’.” 

“I do, Jimmy… I have for so long.” 

“Then, go ahead. Nobody’s gonna’ find us. I promise.” 

Your hands drifted in between your bodies again, and that time, when the hard bulge met your fingers, you didn’t pull back. Instead, you palmed him outside of his trousers, rubbing your hand in a vertical motion. Jimmy tipped his head back, his big, wide hands climbing your backside up to your waist. “Hoh’, god…”

It isn’t long before you’ve undone his belt buckle and reached into his pants to pull his cock free. Every touch brings a carnal reaction from Jimmy and it fuels you, pushes you forward. You’d been waiting weeks for this, to have any sort of attention from the Lobster Boy, and now, you had him underneath you with a hard-on. 

“You wanna’ do it, baby?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

Jimmy hooks his thumb around the hem of your underwear, pulling them to the side and moving his hand to your thigh. With his cock now free and bumping into your swollen clit, he adjusted his hips, and tapped your backside once. “Lift up a little, baby.”

You do and Jimmy quickly reached under your dress to line his cock up with your entrance. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Come on down…” 

You started to, and the velvety soft head presses against your slick hole, pressing past it. You hesitate at the fullness, but Jimmy bucks his hips up a little, forcing him in halfway. He nods encouragingly, and with his hands on your hips, slowly urges you down onto his cock. The sensation is overwhelming at first, but the ache is quickly replaced by something you need more of – a dull throbbing, a hunger. 

“Oh my god, mmph!” 

You fell forward into Jimmy’s sunshine-warmed neck, and pressed your lips against the skin there, sucking it gently into your mouth. Jimmy’s hips bucked up into yours, his dick sliding wetly from you with each thrust. 

Jimmy found his rhythm and fucked you hard in that little clearing. Your moans were muffled by his skin, but his weren’t. He couldn’t help himself and groaned loudly with every movement, tilting his head back. The way you felt, the way your cunt clenched around his cock, squeezing him in a wet, slick heat was unbelievable. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt something so good… even the last time he fucked. 

“Yeah,” he slurs, lust-blown and heavy. “Yeah, baby. It’s okay, I feel those hips movin’...”

You whimpered. He’d brought you so close to the edge of ecstasy that your hips had unconsciously started rocking back and forth, forcing yourself against him, forcing friction on your clit. Never losing his rhythm, Jimmy coaxed your orgasm out of you, taking fistfuls of your ass in his conjoined fingers. He used his grip as leverage, pulling you hard onto his dick as he chased his own orgasm. 

“Lemme’ hear those moans, honey… C’mon. Don’t be shy.” 

The overstimulation started to build in your core, and you couldn’t help yourself – whether Jimmy Darling had asked for it or not. A moan left your lips, one that came from your core. That was enough for Jimmy; his thrusts went erratic, losing their steady pace. 

“Oh god,” he groaned. “Oh god!” 

You felt immediately full, your insides pumped full of white heat. Jimmy felt it drip out of you, onto his legs, and grinned. There were few things greater than filling a gal up… especially one as pretty as you.

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

Summary: While touring the countryside, Aegon and Aemond get lost from the rest of the royal party. Left with no other choice during a thunderstorm, they enter a quaint inn with no rooms left. Surely they can convince the maiden who paid for the last available room to share?

Read on Ao3

Written for @hotd-bigbang

Warnings: smut (fingering, p in v sex, oral - female and male receiving, threesome), loss of virginity, Aegon has only one thing on his mind, MINORS DNI, 18+ 

Word Count: 7.9K+

Author’s Note: Written for @hotd-bigbang First Prompt: Tropes - one room, one bed, love triangle kind of. This is the first time I am writing Aegon as a main character and writing the two brothers together. I had a fantastic time. I suspect more Aegon x Reader X Aemond in my future writings. Also apparently I can’t keep anything short!

On A Dark Stormy Night You Awaken

The meal is warm while the outside rages. 

You can hear the thunder shake flickering the candles laid about the cozy interior of the inn. You slice into the breaded mutton with thin utensils glad to have the last room for the night. The storm had caused many travelers to flock to the inn on the road to King’s Landing. There were many who were going to the tourney for the prince’s name day. 

At this point in the evening, slightly damp and a bit nervous, you could not remember which prince was celebrating the joyous occasion. 

Your wares were in your single bedroom nestled in the corner of the room. Before retreating to receive some warm food, you had been working to repair a small trinket in your collection. As a jeweler it was your duty to inspect each piece of your trade to make sure only the finest quality made its way to lords and ladies willing to spend coin at the tourney. 

While the tools laid abandoned upstairs, the fine emerald ring laid perfectly on your finger. The silver band glistened thickly in the candlelight as you admired the craftsmanship and the resetting of the stone now nestled safely in the band. The stone had come loose a few times, but you had managed to reset it to make it truly a beautiful piece. 

Your stomach had rumbled reminding you that you had spent far too long working. 

The nice piece of meat and freshly cooked potatoes seasoned with garlic and thyme made happiness sing on your face. It was quite late so you were truly excited to see it was only you and the barkeep awake. You were certain the older woman was the owner of the inn as well. 

She had been very kind to give you the last room this late in the evening. 

You had told her your tale of woe. Your family had deemed you well crafted enough to venture off to represent the family alone at the tourney. Your father would normally travel with you, however he had taken ill in the past few weeks never truly recovering enough to travel. Your mother needed to stay by his side to nurse him back to health. 

Being the only child of your family it was your duty to represent. You had joined a group of merchants from your village and neighboring communities to venture forward. The journey shouldn’t have been too long. 

Perhaps only a few days, however a great storm had broken through the clouds in the early afternoon leaving the winds and slanted rain a troubling sight for your old mare. Betsy was a sturdy girl, but was no match for the stubborn storm or the lightning for that matter. It was best not to push her. It had resulted in you being separated from your group and ending up here for the evening. 

The wind howled louder breaking you from your thoughts. The door smacked open against the wooden walls of the inn from the power of the rains outside. Two hooded figures entered. The taller one pushed the door closed while the other made their way confidently over to the inn’s owner who was eating a small plate of bread and cheese. 

You could tell by the voice that there was an air of entitlement to the tone of the male voice who no doubt was inquiring  for a room. You smile to yourself as you hear the raised voice wondering why there is no room for him and his companion. You know of men of his type, feeling as if the world owed them something simply for being a man. 

The whispers became more hushed. 

You look up to see the hooded figure at the counter is looking your way as the woman behind the counter casually points to you. The taller figure seems to be looking down waiting for conversation to end. You can see his long silver hair clings to his neck under his hood. 

A set of violet eyes peak in your direction with a smile so charming you wonder if you will actually give your room to them should they approach. 

They most certainly approach you. 

“Greeting, my dear.” His voice is oozing with confidence. You spear a potato before deciding it should be cut into a smaller piece. “Pardon us for interrupting your meal, but we are quite weary from travel, my brother and I.” Said brother is behind him, peering curiously to you. You can tell from his sharp features that under that hood lies a dashing young gentleman. “The inn keep has told me you have taken the last room here. And it appears you are the only one still awake at this late hour.” 

At that thunder rattles shaking the building and the dinnerware. You hold your plate as if it should fall. This makes the man in front of you smile, endeared at your caution. 

“I was wondering if you would be so kind as to share your room for the night.” 

You look between them. 

Their hoods are no longer clinging to their heads. 

You can see them. 

Violet eyes. 

Silver hair. 

A charming smile from one. 

A solemn serious expression of the other. 

These are the Targaryen princes. 

You have, of course, never met them, but the girls in your village whisper of them as girls do with princes. Aegon is the charming one who is sought after by many ladies. Aemond is the quieter, more serious sort of prince who trains and studies by way of sword and pen. Of course, both have been described as handsome young men worthy of swooning. 

They are standing before you asking for you to share your room. 

Your single bedroom. 

“We can pay you triple what you paid.” He tells you already retrieving a large sack of coin from under his cloak. 

“There is only one bed in the room, mi’lord.” You say sounding quite innocent. 

“We can all share.” He says sounding a bit as though he expects you to do more then simply share your bed. 

“We will sleep on the floor, my lady.” It is the first time you hear the taller one, Prince Aemond, you suspect based on the description your village friends have given, speak. His voice almost sounds gruff as if he is privy to choosing his words carefully. 

“We will do no such thing.” Aegon argues brushing his brother’s thought aside. “We will be well behaved unless the lady hopes otherwise.” The hood falls then revealing how truly handsome Prince Aegon is. His smile makes your heart curl in your throat. You can not help yourself. You shove a potato in your mouth to stop your smile and perhaps halt your blush. 

“We will sleep on the floor.” Aemond looks sharply at his brother. 

“You can sleep on the floor, brother. I would be honored to share a bed with the prettiest girl in the inn.” You blush at the elder prince’s flattery. 

“I do not mind sharing.” What are you saying?! You are not betrothed. You have never in your life shared a bed with a young man, let alone two! Let alone TWO TARGARYEN PRINCES!!! “If it is your wish . . .” You wait to whisper the next words. “My princes.” 

They are not surprised you recognize them. 

“See, Aemond, she is generous. And ready to serve the crown.” Aegon winks at this. You look down at your food. “Let us celebrate our new accommodations. Barkeep! A round of ale for us and our new lady companion!” He waves to the inn owner. You can see she struggles to be polite. 

It is quite late. 

***

You find yourself a bit tipsy after two ales. 

It is a pleasant buzz, but you are used to enjoying some libations with a meal. The brothers ordered a platter of cheese, fruit, and bread to pick at as they enjoyed your company while you finished your dinner. 

Aegon discussed the entire journey that their mother had insisted they travel on to see the kingdom. You learn it is Aegon’s name day that will be celebrated in a few short days. You barely get a word in to explain who you are. It is no matter to Prince Aegon who continues to compliment your beauty and how soft your lips look. 

You manage to mention that you are also journeying to King’s Landing, but that is all. Aegon seems excited by the prospect of spending more time with you touching your arm softly. You note that he watches your face to make sure you are enjoying his little touches. He must clearly see you are because he spends most of the latter part of the meal tracing your knuckles softly. 

Aemond looks down most of the evening eating small pieces of fruit. You note how he likes to take small bites and savor the flavors of each piece of food he enjoys. Aegon merely shoves food in his mouth without a thought. Upon hearing you are traveling to King’s Landing the younger prince perks up. You catch his one eye noting for the first time the leather eye patch there on the other eye. 

That eye is curious. Perhaps always curious. 

He watches you as you twist the ring on your finger nervously. 

As you make your way up to your room, Aemond saddles up beside you. 

“Are you married, my lady?” It is a question you had not imagined to be asked. “Your ring.” He motions toward the silver band. 

“Oh.” You can not help but laugh. Immediately you cover your mouth. “Apologies, mi’lord. It is not a wedding band or even a symbol of betrothal. I am a jeweler. I was re-setting the stone earlier in the evening. I like to wear what I make as a symbol of pride.” 

The explanation seems to both excite and be a relief to the prince. 

“It is a stunning piece. You are a master craftsmen.” He admires it as you approach the door. Aegon seems to wander down the hall, having enjoyed too much drink. “Excuse me, sweet one.” Aemond moves to fetch his brother who begins to loudly bang on an occupied room. 

You can not help, but giggle at the interaction. 

You unlock the door to your own room. 

It is a bit larger than typical accommodations. It appeared that the room was left unoccupied due to the sturdier price. The innkeep had taken pity on you, a young woman separated from your group with a gray mare who shivered and shook in the thunderstorm. She had offered you the room at half cost, though you did not tell the princes that as they paid you triple for the base price of the room. 

The bed you now realizes is large enough for the three of them. You would have neither of the princes sleep on the floor, no matter how you felt about the accommodation. You realize your tools are a bit strewn about on the desk noticing the shavings of metal and small bent tools. You quickly tidy up as the princes enter with their baggages. 

You see out of the corner of your eye Aegon immediately begin to disrobe. 

Aemond scolds him quietly before blocking his brother from your view. 

“Oh come now, brother. Surely the young miss would love to take a gander on Targaryen beauty.” You can practically hear the wink he gives though Aemond is still shielding you. 

“I apologize for my brother,” Aemond says assisting his brother in removing his clothes as the young man struggles to fit his under shirt over his head. “He has had too much drink.” 

“I have not!” Aegon insists. “I can still get it up. I assure you.” He hiccups. 

You snort a laugh. Aemond looks to you as you return your tools to your bags. 

“Are you to sell your wares at the tourney?” Aemond’s voice is curious. 

Aegon flops face first into the bed. He begins to burrow under the covers as if some mole or other underground creature. 

“I am. I have several. I can also make custom jewelry for any lords and ladies who enjoy my offerings.” You open a small case that displays the rings you have created. You cushion the emerald ring back in the case. 

You can feel Aemond’s breath at your neck as you press your fingers against the velvet dark blue cushion that houses each unique ring. Aemond runs his finger over a bright large sapphire set in a gold band. It is one of your favorites as it appears that a dragon’s teeth are about to swallow the sapphire. You have fashioned a few rings for the celebration to represent various houses. Many represent House Targaryen with dragon motifs. 

“I should like to buy this one. If the lady is willing to depart from it?” His eye blinks at you. 

“Oh, I would be honored, my prince.” You remove it from the casing to retrieve a small velvet pouch your mother had sewn for clients. You offer him the ring for free, but Aemond insists on paying double for it. You try to stay his hand. 

“You should be paid for your materials and time. I see you take great care in your work. I would be most honored to wear this at the tourney and talk up your finery to the lords and ladies at court.” 

You smile thinking him the kinder of the two brothers. You thank him for his generosity before awkwardly deciding to disrobe yourself. The pair of you look away as your clothes are removed. You begin to undo your corset letting your mind wander to the bed. It had been soft when you settled in it earlier that evening. The innkeep had said she had just purchased a new mattress and new silk white sheets with gold threading. Aegon is face down in them asleep so they appear to be fit for a prince. You are in your white slip before removing it so you are bare. 

You clearly see Aegon peeking at you from his awake position though he quickly closes his eye when you catch him. You smile not minding the attention. Nobody in your village has paid this kind of attention to you before so the attention is almost a welcome. You pull a white night gown over your head settling it against your bare breasts. 

You turn to the bed but catch a glimpse of Prince Aemond. 

He is VERY well toned. Of course he is, being the prince who trains with the sword. He wears soft trousers to cover his lower half, though they hang low on his hips. His eye quickly casts downward as he gazes on you. 

He seems to be pleased with your night time appearance as well. 

“I will be in the middle. Hopefully this will stay my brother’s wandering hands from you.” Aemond states, eye still set to the floor. 

You can only nod. If you spoke you may something crude, such as you not minding should any hands wander over your body in the middle of the night. 

While no man has ever touched you in such a way it does not mean you are not without want. 

When both princes are in bed and under the covers, you decide it is your turn. You pull them back to reveal the soft mattress below. You settle hearing the rain beginning to pound louder outside. You shiver tucking yourself in. The heat of the younger dragon prince feels welcoming as you snuggle beside him turning yourself to face away from him. 

The bed looked larger when you had been looking down at it, but now it felt small. Prince Aemond turned a bit trying to get comfortable settling to curl forward against your back. You could feel small steady breaths against your neck, hot with nervous energy. 

“Is this alright? I can move, but your body is . . . quite warm. Hmmm . . .” His fingers graze your hip in a moment before pulling away. 

“Yes, you are fine this way.” 

It is the last thing you say before closing your eyes. 

You fade in and out of sleep occasionally being awakened by the storm. The thunder is loud enough to make you whimper. As you awaken with a start you are not sure if it is the thunder that startles you or the hardness against your bum. On instinct you move against it cause it to stir with movement. You hear the prince groan low. 

“I . . .apologize.” He says clearly embarrassed by his member, long and needy of attention. “I . . .” His fingers are brushing at your hip again, this time a bit more with intent. 

“It is flattering.” You decide to say after a moment in thought. “I do not mind it.” At this you feel Aemond’s hand dip lower to the soft flesh of your thigh. 

You whimper a bit too loud. 

It causes his breath to quicken. You hear him swallow hard. 

You decide to turn to face him. He lets go of your thigh immediately at your movement. You see him now. His eye is moving rapidly looking to you with a sweet desire. Your eyes focus over to the sapphire, large and round in his scarred eye socket. He leans forward halfway with his lips, testing the waters. 

You will not let Prince Aemond suffer any longer. 

You meet him halfway for the kiss. 

You do not expect Prince Aemond to be inexperienced with kissing, but he is. His movements are needy and a bit rough. You have had some stolen kisses with stable boys that you feel as if you can judge a good kiss from a bad kiss. His kiss is not bad, but it is sloppy and fast. You slow him down by softly petting his cheek. After a moment or two you fall into a rhythm that is pleasant for you both with slips of your tongue against his. The wet sound echoes in your chamber as you feel your lower half begin to stir with need and wetness.

Your hips hump against his hardness in the dark room as the storm rages around you. He moans against your kisses especially when your clothed sex rubs against the tented tip of his cock. 

“You are behaving quite unfairly, Aemond.” The younger brother nearly breaks upon hearing Aegon’s light scolding. You manage to hold his chin to your lips to steal his attention away from the other prince. “I am the elder brother. I should have her first.” 

You can feel Aegon watching as you and Aemond continue to lose yourself in sloppy kissing. You open your eyes to make contact with Aegon. He slips his hand below the sheets. You watch as it moves slightly. His eyes flutter momentarily in pleasure as he touches himself.

“I can share myself.” You do not know where your boldness comes from. It may be the storm threatening to swallow this inn whole or the idea you will never get an opportunity like this ever again. Aemond is kissing your neck as you speak too focused on his pleasure to note you are offering yourself to Aegon as well. “Come here, my prince.” 

There is no hesitation as Aegon kneels. You can see now he sleeps nude, a tuff of curled silver hairs grace the base of his girthy cock. He crawls over his brother as the pair of you shift to make room for the elder prince behind you. He grabs your hips settling his hands in a comfortable position. He kisses the back of your neck moving your hair as he focuses on your spine with little slips of his tongue. 

You can feel, he too is hard. 

The pair of lips on you sparks you with a divine energy that makes you feel like you could be finished on these sensations alone. 

“Oh, you are a loud one. You like what we are doing to you, sweet girl?” Aegon nips behind your ear in a pleased whisper. 

Aemond has made his way down between your breasts, lips leaving a soft wet trail. His fingers toy with the ties there. He looks up at you. His eye is nearly pleading with you. There is only a slight movement of your head up and down. He loosens those ties without an ounce of hesitation. 

“Yes .  . .” It is a soft sort of agreement. Aemond licks and suckles at the side of one of your breasts. “Gods, yes!” The sensation is so good it leaves you panting. Aegon laughs at your enthusiasm. 

“Well, let’s see how pleased you are.” His palm glides up your leg pulling up your night gown. He palms at your small clothes moaning at the wetness gathered there. “Oh, my dear, you are wetter than the storm outside.” He bites your neck softly. “So ready for our princely cocks. You would like that wouldn’t you? To have our cocks all nestled safe inside your tight pussy.” 

The pleasure is nearly too much. You have lost all grasp on the common tongue too entrapped in the movement of their royal tongues. You feel long slender fingers massaging against your breast. Aemond releases your breast from the confines of your top, his tongue laps at the rosen perked nipple teasing it between his lips. Aegon’s hands squeeze your hip while the other slips underneath your small clothes. 

You gasp as a finger slips inside you. 

“So very tight.” The prince nuzzles his lips to your jawline. “Are you a sweet little virgin, dear?” You can barely think to answer. 

“I . . . yes. Please.” You do not know if you are begging for more or less of them. 

“Yes? No wonder this little cunt is so tight. Let me help.” He pumps a second finger inside you which causes you to gasp in a little more painful way. The fingers drag inside you slowly. 

Aemond nearly growls in response. 

“Relax, brother. She is enjoying it. Aren’t you?” Aegon is now peppering you with kisses as he pumps his fingers inside you. 

“It hurts. A bit.” The pain is slowly subsiding as you grow used to a foreign set of fingers inside you. He curled both in unison and it makes your mind go white. You cry out loud over the thunder feeling so close to your peak. 

“Oh you want to release now, don’t you?” Slowly Aegon withdraws his fingers. “Not quite yet.” He smacks your thigh lovingly as Aemond continues to massage and play his tongue along your breasts. “My brother has only ever been with one woman. An older whore from the streets of silk. Certainly no virgin.” You feel Aemond moan into your other breast releasing it too. He lavishes sweet kisses upon the flesh before swirling his tongue around the perked nipple. “My brother should feel a virgin cunt shouldn’t he? Would you like my brother to take your maidenhead, sweet girl?” 

You would like that. 

There is nothing more you would like then to feel what both cocks would feel like inside you. 

Aemond could have his turn. 

You nod your head. 

From Aegon’s cackle you know you are too eager to get fucked. 

“Oh you are a bit naughty, aren’t you? You hear that brother? This little virgin would like you to take her maidenhead.” He ruffles with the curtain of his brother’s long silver hair which has fanned forward. 

You feel Aemond groan against your nipple tucked between his lips. Wetness and whimpers escape you. Aemond focuses his eye upward before pulling away slowly. 

“Would you like that, my lady?” His hands pet the sides of your breasts as you lay on your side. “Hmmm?” 

“Please.” 

You want it so badly

You NEED it so badly. 

The brothers assist in adjusting you so you are laid flat on your back. Aegon lays on his side, head propped on his open palm watching. He moves your hair aside so he can see your pretty face while his brother fucks you. Aemond is above you hovering. He parts your legs slowly beginning to remove your small clothes. The sensation of your pussy hitting the cool air makes you gasp a bit as the wetness makes your sensitive area feel cool. Aemond’s fingers run over your folds in a loving gesture. His eye watches you as he sinks his digit into you. Your chest heaves as a sigh escape. 

There is a playful smile on the Targaryen’s lips as he pumps and curls his finger inside you. 

Your back arches as you are drawn closer again. Your small hans grasp at the sheets. 

“Oh for Gods’ sake, Aemond. Get that cock inside her. You’re hard aren’t you?” Aegon complains with a roll of his eyes. 

You can see Aemond is uneasy. Your hand goes to his cheek as he withdraws his finger from inside you. You smile trying to let him know you want this and it is alright. He smiles in return and bends forward. As his chest crushes to your body you can feel his lips against yours, but also his long cock pressing hard to your thigh. 

He slowly a lines his cock to brush against your slit. You can feel the bulbous head at your entrance. 

“Be slow. She’s very tight.” Aegon warns. He plays with your hair as Aemond lifts from the kiss. “The tightness will make you want to fuck her hard, but stay yourself. You want to make her first time feel good, make her peak. Ease into her slowly. Do not finish too quickly despite how well her pussy squeezes you.” 

Slowly you feel Aemond push into you, a little at a time. 

You groan so loudly at the initial stretch. 

“That’s it.” Aegon is rubbing your shoulder gently. 

Aemond pushes inside a bit more slowly stretching your inner walls. You bite your lip. That detail seems to make the prince’s cock twitch inside you. Your walls flutter. Aemond curses and seems to falter, slipping in a bit further. 

“Hold it. I know she is a pretty one, but contain yourself, brother.” 

“She’s so tight, Aegon. I do not think I can hold much longer.” You feel your eyes are screwed shut trying to concentrate on the pleasant feelings and holding your own composure. 

“She’s pretty. Doesn’t she deserve a good first fuck?” You feel Aegon’s lips against your forehead. “I think you deserve this sweet virgin cunt. Be easy. Be good to her and that pussy will be good to you. She will remember your cock first before all others. She will compare you to everyone after including myself. Perhaps even on her wedding night she will think, ‘Is my lord husband’s cock as good as Aemond One-Eyed?’ ”  

Aemond continues to ease in slowly stretching you. He drags along your walls a little out then more in. Before long you feel him fully inside you. He is nearly panting from the effort as you feel his hot breath fan across your face. Finally you open your eyes. His one eye is closed as his brow is furrowed in concentration. Aegon continues to brush your hair away from your face and press his fingers to your shoulders. 

“Aemond, my prince,” You call to him as he opens his eye slowly. “Please.” Your hips move slightly. He lets out a long breath. 

He is breathing so hot now. 

His body and breath are heavy. 

He begins to move slowly in and out. 

“See? Listen to her! She loves it. You love my brother’s cock, don’t you, sweet girl?” Aegon says with a smile and a kiss to your forehead. 

You did not realize how loud you were being at this slow pace. The sensation of feeling the prince’s cock moving inside you makes sounds you never knew you could make leave your mouth. It encourages Aemond to move quicker inside you. The stretch begins to hurt as he moves faster, but the pleasure blinds out the pain. Your hands are to his lower back pressing his hips forward. 

You call out the prince’s name over and over again. The frame of the bed begins to shake as the thunder and lightning crash outside through the pounding of rain. Inside the prince is pounding you making you close to your peak. You cry out feeling your body unravel. 

“Pull out of her. Release your seed on her, not inside. Wouldn’t want any bastards.”

You barely register Aegon’s voice as several waves of pleasure roll over you. 

“Oh look at her!” Aegon calls out delighted. “She is peaking multiple times! Job well done, brother.” 

You feel Aemond’s seed warm on your thigh as he whimpers his own peak on your flesh. You are catching your breath feeling hoarse and raw in the throat. Your walls flutter slowly as the sweat beads across your breasts. You feel Aegon kiss your forehead. 

“Such a good girl. I can not wait to rut inside you.” His curved lips feel encouraging against your skin. Your chest puffs in and out as you slowly open your eyes. “Aemond, let’s clean her. There is a wash bin and cloth on the desk. Don’t worry, love. We’ll take care of you before I have my turn. Make sure you are well prepared to take me.” You see him wink. 

You see Aemond run his hand over your thigh not coated in his spend. He traces the flesh there with reverence as if soaking in the memory of feeling you. His hand lazily travels to the dips of your hips. You feel tender there and wince. 

“Did I hurt you?” You look down to see he is tracing over a small bruise, yellowed at the edges. It is in the shape of a thumb. 

“It does not hurt. Only a bit sore.” 

He nods. His lips bend down to kiss the spot. You sigh happily at the loving gesture. Aegon groans impatiently, a signal for Aemond to stand. He kisses the bruise one more time before standing. You watch his backside move across the room only lit by the flickering of lightning outside. 

“We have not had the same woman before. Aemond and I. I must say it has been quite an enjoyable experience so far. You are such a lovely little plaything for us.” Aegon shifts to move a pillow to his lap. He places your head there. “Comfortable?” You swallow and nodd. “Did my brother fuck you well?” His thumb roams over your lower lip. 

“He did.” You feel a wetness against where the drying spend rests. 

The soft rag glides across your sweat soaked skin. The water is lukewarm and pleasant. 

“I feel very well cared for. Thank you, my princes.” You look between them, up at Aegon who sweetly plays with your hair and forward at Aemond who washes and dries your body clean. There is a lovely little smirk of satisfaction on his face. 

“Tell me, Aemond. How is her cunt?” Aegon asks with a sparkle of curiosity. 

“It was . . . good.” There is a blush that creeps across his cheeks, shame or embarrassment bright on his features. 

“Just good? Come now. It is just us. Tell me. Was she tight? Did she milk your cock? What do I have to look forward to?” The elder prince nearly laughs with anticipation. 

“I . . .” He seems to struggle to find the right words. He looks into your eyes. There is still desire there. “I should like to have her again. She felt . . .divine.” His fingers tease your slit making you whimper. “Let me make her wet for you.” 

Without hesitation Aemond tossed the rag to the floor with a wet slap. He kneels, spreading your legs apart to get better access to what is between them. He bends his head to kiss your inner thigh before kissing sweetly along your slit. A small gasp erupts from your lips. The brothers laugh playfully at your reaction. Where he was sloppy with kisses on your lips, Aemond’s wet puckered kisses leave you nearly breathless here. 

“Get her nice and wet for me.” Aegon pets your head as Aemond kisses your cunt, dragging his tongue inside you. “Don’t take too long. I am eager to have her.” 

He curves his tongue as he did his fingers. The sensation makes you cry out with pleased whimpers, high and needy. You can not help yourself as you run your fingers through the Targaryen prince’s long silver mane. You try to steady your breathing so you do not sound as desperate as you feel, but it is too late. Your needy little moans of desire hit high making you wet for the prince’s cock. 

“That is enough. She is plenty wet.” Aegon shifts to remove your head from his lap. 

You call out for Aemond as his tongue flickers over your sensitive bud. 

Aegon grunts pushing at his brother’s shoulder. Aemond lifts his head as if a hound hungrily defending his food. Aegon is the alpha in this situation. He relents to his brother moving to place your head and thr pillow in his lap. Aegon is above you with a toothy grin. His thumb runs along your plump lower lip. 

“Such a needy little thing. Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll pleasure you even better than my brother.” 

Prince Aegon captures your lips savoring each little kiss and whimper. Slowly you feel his cock enter you. There is a small sigh that escapes your lips as you feel his girth, thicker then Prince Aemond. He stretches you more. 

“By the Gods,” His eyes flutter closed. “You have such a tight cunt. Fuck.” He chuckles pushing deeper. You feel Aemond’s hand stroke your throat as a stretch of pain washes over you as Aegon’s cock stretches you deeper. 

“It is alright. You are doing wonderful, here.” Aemond’s hand reaches to fondle with your exposed breasts. His thumb and index finger tweak your hardened nipples. It leaves you with a bit of a distraction. “Better?” 

“Mmmmm. . .” Is your only response. 

“Good.” Aemond says as he plays with each of your tits equally. 

“There we are.” Aegon bottoms out inside her. “So bloody tight.” 

He begins to move not requiring much effort to sate himself. He pushes his thumb to the bruise on your hip. You know it was not Aemond who made it, but Aegon. He is a bit rougher than his brother. You cry out a bit in pain as he gives no care to being gentle now that you have been taken kindly for your first time. He lifts your leg higher prompting him to bury his cock deeper inside you giving you deep strokes. 

“You are hurting her.” Aemond says through gritted teeth. 

“I am doing no such thing. She is enjoying a good pounding by her prince. Aren’t you now?” His own words prompt him to go faster. He grazes a spot inside you, but quickly pulls away before truly hitting it. 

Your lips quiver. Aegon jackhammers into you panting like a rabid animal. His throat releases harsh noises. You try to bring his face down to kiss you, but he is hesitant. He appears not used to kisses while he is fucking. Maybe the whores in King’s Landing are not allowed to kiss the prince. He eventually relents kissing you, which slows his pace though removes Aemond’s hands from your tits. 

“You are so sweet tasting.” He breaths in small pants between kisses. “You know that, sweet girl? Like honeyed wine and fall spices.” He nuzzles your neck as he pumps inside you in an easy rhythm. “Mmmm . . . so sweet.” 

You feel his cock twitch within you indicating he is close to spilling his seed. However you do not feel your peak approaching. Everytime you are about to reach a desirable peak or spot inside you he seems to deviate to his own pleasure. He lifts from your neck and face, a hand on either side of you as he snaps his hips wildly cursing. Aemond reaches downward to your sex. 

“What are you -?” 

“It will feel better if she peaks.” Aemond’s finger moves to tease the small bud in your folds. “This is her bud. The madame showed me. Stroking her here,” You make a noise that is a mix of a sigh and a moan. “Is as if you were teasing the tip of your cock. It’s sensitive. Pleasureable.” Aegon moves his thumb over the bud. He presses too hard causing you pain. “No, stroke. Gentle. Yes. Listen to her.” Aegon alters the movement stroking you gently before licking his thumb and slipping it over your bud. 

Your voice groans at the sensation. Even the pounding of his hips does not dissuade you from the pleasure you receive from the stroking of your bud. You whimper as he gasps. 

“Fuckin’ vice on my cock! Gods!” He cries out. 

Aegon waits until the final moment to pull his cock free. He ignores your bud for the moment to spill himself on the sheets. Aemond replaces his brother’s thumb stroking you until your walls flutter leaking your arousal on his fingers. He brings them to his mouth tasting you. 

“Hmmmm . . .” Aemond hums against his fingers. 

The elder prince pants before turning those pants into laughter. He is knelt on the bed holding his softened cock in his hand. His brother is licking his fingers of your arousal as you are laid out satisfied. 

“No regrets on your part I see.” Aegon chuckles. “But . . .” He looks between you and Aemond. “It would be a grand thing if we could get both of our cocks inside your holes.” Aegon reaches to rub his thumb along your lower lip again. You kiss it softly. “Here.” His other hand strokes your center, remembering exactly where that bud is. “And here.” 

“Aegon . . .” Aemond says it as if a warning. 

“I would like that.” You say looking at Aemond first. His eye is wide. “I am not tired. I want to feel more.” You palm at Aemond’s thigh. Your fingers tease the side of his cock. 

You know you will remember this moment for the rest of your days. Someday you will be wed. Someday you will have babes at your breast instead of needy princes. You want to take as much pleasure from them as they do from you, savor the passion of this moment even as the wind howls and the storm rages. 

You kiss the tip of Aemond’s cock. He hisses, though the sound is not unpleasant. Aegon moves to sit on the other side of your face. You feel the tip of his cock trace your neck. Your tongue swirls around Aemond’s tip on instinct . He guides your mouth further down on his cock while instructing you to take what you can not fit in your hand and stroke it. You do as instructed, feeling him graze your cheek as his cock grows larger inside your mouth. 

“How is her mouth?” Aegon is nearly humming with excitement beside you. 

“Exquisite.” Aemond says maintaining his composure. 

Your tongue flickers at the underside of his cock as you take him further into your mouth. He is gentle with his instructions, kind when telling you what he desires from you. He tells you to hollow your cheeks. When you do he moans much louder then he did when he was fucking you. You are glad you can give him pleasure simply with your mouth and tongue. 

“Let him fill your mouth then I will as well.” Aegon teases in your ear.

You feel a little uneasy at the thought. You can taste salty remnants of Aemond against your tongue. Aemond seems to see how uneasy you have grown. He pulls you from his cock with a pop. His thumb runs across your bottom lip gathering his essence to rub it further into your mouth. You suckle his thumb looking into his eye. 

“Hmmm.” He looks to you slowly blinking. “I think you want my cock inside your cunt again. Don’t you, sweet one?” You swallow whatever salty essence he has released in your mouth, not much but enough to know what he tastes like, an aftertaste of sweet fruit. 

You hum approval. 

“Alright, fuck her cunt. I’ll take that mouth of hers. It sounds as if it is better than her cunt by how pleased you seemed, brother.” You feel Aegon pull your mouth toward him. 

Without hesitation he pries your mouth open. 

“Careful.” Aemond is hissing again. “Be gentle with her.”

“What if she wants a bit of roughness?” You feel Aegon pump two fingers into your mouth. You suckle tasting bits of cheese under his nails. The corners of your mouth seep drool. “Oh good girl. She’s drooling over the thought of sucking my cock. Let me hear it from your mouth then, sweet girl. What do you desire?” 

You have never been asked such a question in your life. 

The thunder crackles shaking the room. You are looking into one prince’s eyes before looking into the eye of the other prince. 

What is it you desire? 

You were practically forced into your current line of work. A family trade is tradition and should be treated as such. You love your work now, but were never given the opportunity to try anything else.

You will not have a say in your husband. 

You will not have a say in your friends. 

Your free time has never been your own. 

Yet here, in the darkness of night, in a storm that rages outside you are asked such a question from the least likely of people. 

“The crown demands to know your true desires.” Aegon seems sweeter now removing his fingers from your lips. The wet fingers stroke from your temple to your cheek catching some of your sweat stained hair. 

In the storm you awaken your true desires. 

“I want to be touched. Worshipped. I want to feel you both inside me. It does not matter where, but yes, I should think a gentle embrace is what I would like most.” Your eyes flutter with a mixture of innocence and pure lust. 

“Well then, I will remain gentle. But I may lose control. Tap my leg thrice if my cock is too rough, my lady. I do not wish you pain, only pleasure. For tonight you are the one we shall worship.” He bends down, giving you a sweet kiss on the temple. 

Aemond slowly begins to remove your night dress so you are bare before the two princes. It does not feel like exposure, but instead it feels as though you have truly given yourself to the moment, to this place in time, to your lovers. In that moment the prince titles fade from your mind. 

All three of you only want to make each other feel good. 

“You are so soft.” Aemond says. 

His lips are trailing down your body, between the valley of your breasts, at your soft belly, and then to your thighs. You can feel how soft you are in each spot as he travels. Aegon slowly rubs his fingers over your lips letting you kiss him before his cock, hard and ready rubs across your lips too. You open your mouth taking the thick cock. 

As you suck on Aegon’s cock, Aemond slowly inserts himself inside your cunt. 

“By the Gods, your mouth . . .” He groans almost as loud as his brother did. 

You are glad you are making him feel this way. Each brother has a hand on one of your tits. Slowly their rhythms seem to match thrusting into each of your wet holes in unison. You tap Aegon’s leg thrice when you find it difficult to breath. He does seem to care about your comfort as does Aemond who has gently folded your thighs upward as he strokes his cock inside you. 

The gentleness of it all makes time seem never ending. 

It is fine by you. You are feeling elated in this moment. 

Enjoying yourself perhaps too much. 

“I am close.”

“As am I.” 

“Are you close, darling?” 

You do not know who’s voice is who’s in that moment. You simply hum around Aegon’s cock before he can pull out. 

“I want to fuck your mouth a little rougher. Would that be alright with you?” Aegon blinks softly. 

It is hard to deny him, but also you feel your pussy twitch at the suggestion. You nod. 

“Mmmm. . . her cunt twitched at the suggestion. She’s so fuckin’ close.” You hear in Aemond’s voice he is ready to spill himself. 

You wonder if both of them will spill inside you. 

Hands fit against the back of your head as Aegon gently guides your mouth over his cock. Your jaw is beginning to hurt from holding open for so long, but you want to feel good as well. A small price to pay, you suppose. Aegon’s cock begins to go deeper inside your mouth before thrusting faster. You feel spittle gather at the corners as you hear your hollow chokes begin. Those sounds seem to spurn Aemond on. 

His thrusts are deeper as well inside your cunt, which is well stretched at this point. He is muttering curses as his fingernails make half moons on your thighs. All you hear is the men’s moans as they reach their peak as you choke and gasp around Aegon’s cock. 

“Swallow all of it.” You feel it hit the back of your throat. You choke and slurp it back into your mouth. He is saltier then Aemond and there is much of his spend. You lick your lips when Aegon pulls from your mouth. 

Aemond pounds viciously into you. 

Your pussy twitches as you feel your eyes go white for a moment in your peak. 

He is growing soft inside you collapsed. 

“Naughty Aemond.” Aegon scolds. “Spilled his seed inside. Don’t worry. We can prepare some moon tea in the morning. Make sure no bastards grow in this cute little belly.” Aegon leans down and kisses your stomach. 

Aemond rolls to his back panting. 

“You enjoy her, brother? Tight cunt is much better then the cunt of an old whore.” Aegon nearly laughs. “And you my dear, how was your first time? Hmmm . . . you feel thoroughly worshipped by your princes?” 

“Yes. I do.” You are nearly panting as well. 

You will be sore in the morning, but the pleasure was worth every ache and pain. 

“Perhaps when you are in King’s Landing we’ll have you again. It is my name day after all.” Aegon lays beside you his hands under his head watching you breath and your eyes lazily begin to close before opening to look at him. “We wore you out. Didn’t we?” He runs his hand over your lips once more. 

“Yes, my prince.” 

It is then you turn to Aemond. He is looking at you in a similar position to Aegon, but on your other side. He reaches forward to kiss your lips, moaning against them. He presses himself to you. On instinct you wrap your arms around him to cuddle him and stroke his hair. It is in this moment when he is nestled between your breasts and suckling comfortably at your skin you think this is typical for him after sex. Aegon hugs your waist from behind. 

“Such a beautiful night.” Aegon mumbles into your hair. “Such a strange and beautiful stormy night.” 

One the three of you will never forget. 

[too-many-fandoms-tbh]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY

BRUCE WAYNE (BATMAN) SMUT

(bruce wayne/batman x fem!reader)

can be read as any batman, but he is described to be a partying bachelor in this

warnings: rough sex, p in v, unprotected sex, jealous sex, semi-public (private bathroom) sex, established relationship, slight toxic undertones?? aftercare

she knew it was for her protection, but god did y/n hate pretending not to know bruce in public. they'd attend events together, and she just had to stand there and watch every time as he flirted with all of the girls who approached him. sure, guys flirted with her all the time, but she never talked to them for more than a minute, and she'd always make sure not to lead them on. bruce didn't care; he had to keep up his "partying bachelor" status. she brought it up to him once, and he of course reassured her she was all he wanted, but that didn't mean it still didn't hurt.

currently, she was stood against a wall, arms crossed over her stomach as she glared at the girls whom were flocked around her boyfriend. she was wearing a long, bright red dress that hugged her curves tightly and had a deep v-neck. there was a slit going up her thigh, which exposed her silver heels and caused her to constantly adjust her dress in fear of exposing herself. the dress was so tight that she couldn't wear her normal safety-shorts without there being lines, so she'd been stressed about that all night.

"hey there," a voice said out of nowhere. she snapped her gaze away from bruce and immediately replaced her scowl with a polite smile as she turned to greet the man. "you look like you could use a refill."

she paused, eyes looking at the empty glass, provided by the event's servers, on the table next to her. she'd never seen the man in front of her before, but he was definitely handsome, with blonde hair and brown eyes. his tan hands both held glasses of champagne, one of which was being held out towards her. in fear of being impolite, she took the drink with nimble hands. she was a little worried that he might've done something to the drink, but with the amount of security the crowded event held, she supposed she was safe.

"thank you.." she prompted, eyes raised.

"frank." he said quickly, an awkward laugh. "frank campbell. and you are?"

"y/n l/n." she responded, taking a sip of the drink. it tasted the same as the ones she'd had before, and she cherished the flavor.

"what're you doing all the way over here?" he asked. "i'm sure you'd be a hit out there."

she nearly laughed at his attempts of flirting. "i'm just observing." she shrugged.

he turned to follow her gaze and his eyes landed on bruce, whom was still surrounded by women. "looking at wayne, huh? he's got all of the ladies here wrapped around his finger. i'm surprised you're not over there too, unless you have a boyfriend, of course."

how ironic.

"you sound jealous." she swirled the drink in her cup, looking up at him through her eyelashes. holy shit, she was flirting back, wasn't she?

"so what if i am?" he said boldly. "i think every man in this room is."

"and why is that?" she continued, taking another sip of her drink. as she did so, her eyes trailed over to bruce. she knew he'd look over at them eventually, he was protective like that, but now he was straight up staring at her. he looked upset, and for some reason, she was almost pleased with that result. maybe, just maybe, this would show him what it was like to be in her shoes. she winked at him once before turning her attention back to frank.

she nodded along as frank spoke, but honestly, she had tuned out on a lot of it as she was looking at bruce. when he finished talking, she had a good enough idea of what he said to respond.

"so what," she summarized with a slight smirk. if only he knew who he was talking to. "you think you could show a girl a better time than he could?"

"oh, i know i could."

"ah, i see." she set her almost-empty glass down and reached for her handbag off of the table. the small, designer bag was cute, but she hated the fact that it didn't have a strap. she was digging around in it, searching for her small tin of breath mints, when suddenly she knocked the bag over. it toppled to the ground, the contents spilling everywhere. she gasped, carefully falling to her knees in order to collect her things. frank squatted down too, doing his best to help. she could see the way his eyes landed on her cleavage before trailing down to the her thigh, where she was maybe an inch away from exposing the space between her thighs.

"sorry," she laughed awkwardly, suddenly a little uncomfortable under his gaze. his eyes never left her body as he handed her the occasional lipstick or bobby-pin from the floor. she thought she wanted this attention, in fact she'd been craving it all night, but she suddenly felt guilty as she realized what she was doing. apparently, she'd done a better job flirting than she'd thought she did, and now this man was looking at her as if he expected her to come home with him tonight. all whilst her boyfriend was watching.

speaking of bruce, she glanced up to see him staring directly at her, eyes narrowed. to make matters even worse, she and frank both reached for her phone at the same time, their hands connecting for a split second. she pulled away quickly, but frank was already making eye-contact with her, a blush on his face.

"that's everything," he said, finally looking at her face. he stood up, offering her a hand as well. despite the fact that she wanted to get up on her own, she took his hand, standing up as slowly as possible in order to keep her dress intact. the second his hand dropped hers, she was adjusting her dress again, wishing she'd worn the black dress that alfred suggested.

"oh, here," he said. she had no clue what he was doing, but suddenly, his hand was on her face. he brushed something off of her cheek and she stood there frozen. her eyes looked for bruce, and he was dismissing himself from the girls around him. he pulled out his phone as he walked, but she lost him in the crowds before she could see where he was headed. "you had a hair."

"thanks," she forced a smile. her phone buzzed in her purse, and after saying a quick apology to frank, she pulled it out. bruce's contact filled her screen, and her knees went weak as she read his text.

"Meet me in employee bathroom, two minutes. Down the stairs to your left. Don't be late."

"oh my god," she attempted to feign a dramatic gasp, but honestly, she didn't have to try that hard to fake being shocked because she genuinely was. bruce was very rarely that demanding, and if he was, it was only after a hard night out as batman. "i am so sorry, frank, but i have to go. business emergency."

"oh, no," frank seemed a little appalled at her sudden exit. "don't apologize. i hope everything is alright."

"yeah, thanks," she reached over for her glass of champagne and finished it with a long swig, ignoring his confused gaze. "it was lovely meeting you, really. i'll see you around, yeah?"

he seemed a little shocked, but she patted his shoulder once before grabbing her clutch and walking away. she walked as fast as she could in a restricting dress and heels, which, honestly, was quite slow. no one seemed to notice her as she snuck through the unlabeled doors and down the concrete stairs. she really hoped these were the correct stairs, because it took her nearly a minute to get down them without ripping her dress. immediately, a door labeled "family bathroom" appeared to her left, and in smaller letters it read "staff only".

she prayed that it was the right room when she knocked. as quick as lightning, bruce opened the door and pulled her inside. she fell against the door as he locked it behind her.

"well hello to you too," she sassed, ignoring how turned on she already was. if this was something serious and not sexual, then she was about to feel real stupid. "what's up?"

"i could ask you the same question." he said, voice barely controlled. "what's up with campbell over there?"

"oh, so you know him?" she inquired boldly. she could feel the alcohol in her veins, not enough to make her tipsy, but enough to make her words bolder.

"yeah, i do," he grumbled. "nice guy."

she laughed lightly. "that's surprising. he hates you."

"oh, does he?" bruce didn't seem phased. "and why is that?"

she pushed herself off of the door, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. "oh nothing much," she smirked up at him. "just thought he could fuck me better than you."

this caught bruce's attention and his eyes hardened. his large hands found place on her waist, pulling her closer.

"and would you let him?" his voice was raspy. he knew she wouldn't, they'd had that conversation before when they were actually being sincere, but he had to see what she'd say now.

"depends," she ran her fingers through the hair on the back of his head. "would you fuck handsy-pansy? i'm sure she thinks she's better than me."

"handsy" pansy was some blonde woman whom seemed to show up at every event, and each time she saw bruce, she'd fawn over him the whole time, laughing at everything he said and always touching him.

bruce pretended to think, watching as she scrunched her face up at him. she knew he was just doing it to get a rise out of her, and she planned to return the favor.

"maybe i'll go and talk to frank after all," she pulled away, pretending to reach for the door. "i'm sure he'd love to have me in his bed after all of this is over."

the next thing she knew, bruce grabbed her hand. he pulled her back, spinning her enough so that their chests collided and he could slam his lips against hers. the kiss was rough and passionate, and she found herself wrapping her hands around his neck to stay stable. his larger hands gripped her waist, slowly moving down to her ass with a harsh squeeze. she moaned in his mouth, arching her back against him.

"fuck you better than me, huh?" he growled, pulling away. he pulled her by her waist, shoving her towards the sink. her hands latched onto the counter and she could see bruce standing behind her in the mirror. she bit her lip as he grabbed the long dress, bunching it up at her waist, where it surprisingly stayed. she watched his breath catch in his throat when he realized she only had lace on underneath. he didn't say anything, simply palming her smooth ass before reaching between her legs. his calloused fingers slid over her soaked folds and she threw her head back, a bright blush on her face.

"you're already so wet," he commented, pulling away. he met her eyes in the mirror. "was all of this for him?"

"no," she shook her head quickly, going against any of her usual bratty instincts. "it's all for you, bruce."

"all for me, huh?" he repeated. as he spoke, she arched her back against him, attempting to grind herself against his thigh. his hands found place on her hips, and her actions were halted abruptly. his grip was rough, but not quite enough to be painful.

"i don't know," he tsked, making eye contact with her through the mirror. "you seemed pretty pleased with yourself out with campbell, acting like a slut, all whilst wearing the brand new dress i bought you."

"god," she whined, biting her lip. the way he was staring her down through the mirror, thumbs caressing her hips, was driving her crazy. "please, bruce! i'm yours, all yours."

"now you're begging?" he asked slyly, fingers moving down her hips and to her thighs, where he then stroked her skin softly. "so eager to be fucked like the slut you are, huh?"

"so what if i am?" she challenged, trying to slyly rub her thighs together. her actions didn't go unnoticed, and bruce roughly separated her legs. she nearly fell, leaning forward onto the sink.

"you beg me to go out more," he murmured under his breath. through the mirror, she could see him unbuckling his belt. "and this is the treatment i get. you want me to fuck you? fine, i'll fuck you. i'll fuck you so good the whole party will hear you, and campbell will know you're mine. that's what you wanted, right? for me to show you i care?"

his words were almost sappy, but his tone was the complete opposite.

"i've cared the whole time," his gruff voice continued. she heard the clink of his pants falling to his ankles. "it drove me crazy watching guys look you up and down, talking about you like you're their next meal."

he didn't give her time to respond, because he suddenly slid inside of her. she let out an airy moan, manicured fingers gripping the counter as she adjusted to the quick intrusion. the momentary pain was quickly being masked with pleasure as he leaned forward, craning his neck to place a soft kiss on shoulder. though the moment was tender, his voice was still a husky whisper in her ear. "god, if only they could see you now, see how you're all mine."

the next thing she knew, he was pounding into her like there was no tomorrow, snapping his hips against her so much that she felt her entire body bounce with each movement. she tried to make eye contact through the mirror, but she couldn't bear to keep her head up. a constant string of airy moans were leaving her mouth, and had she not been about to collapse, she would've brought a hand up to silence them.

"fuck, bruce.." she managed to sputter out. his pace was relentless; it seemed his hours of being batman really contributed to his stamina.

"what?" he practically growled from behind her. "you can't take it?"

"i can!" she cried out, head thrown back as she struggled to speak. "i-" her next sentence got cut off by a startled moan as one of bruce's hands left her hips and snaked around to pressure her clit.

she moaned out his name as he continued his assault, his finger now rubbing slowly against the bundle of nerves.

"fuck," he panted from behind her. "you gonna cum for me, yeah?"

she nodded, her body shaking in his arms. she wasn't sure how much longer she could take it before she collapsed onto the floor, but god did she love it.

"i need words, sweetheart." he said, his halting the actions of his fingers. he was still pumping into her, likely because he too was close, but she immediately whined at the loss of contact against her sensitive clit.

"yes!" she choked out, only to then moan again when he twiddled her clit between the pads of his calloused fingers.

it didn't take long before she could feel herself nearing an orgasm. biting her lip to prevent herself from screaming, y/n came roughly, legs shaking so hard she was scared her knees were going to buckle out from under her. she expected bruce to slow down, maybe give her a moment to recuperate, but his pace only quickened to a near impossible state. he was back to holding her hips with both hands, using his virtually painful grip on her body in order to pound into her even harder. she was shaking like a limp ragdoll in his arms, incoherent moans leaving her open mouth. she was even more sensitive than before, and she was sure anyone walking by would be able to hear her.

right when she was sure she'd get whiplash from being jerked around so much, not that she was complaining, she felt bruce let go inside of her, his liquid coating her insides. once he was finished, he slowed to a stop and slipped softly out of her. she almost immediately fell to the floor, but his now gentle grip was quick to grab onto her.

he spun her around to face him, supporting her weight with ease. he gave her an amused smile, and she couldn't help but just stare at him, her face still stuck in a fucked-out haze. her makeup was smeared, and there were many loose, frizzy hairs stuck to her face. she managed to pull her dress back down to cover herself, but it was full of wrinkles, and there was now a wet patch on the crotch.

bruce pulled her into his chest and leaned down to press a lasting kiss onto her lips. she brought her weak arms up to wrap around his neck, and he continued to hold onto her, now moving his hands up to her waist rather than her sensitive hips. the kiss was slow and soft, a large contrast to his actions only moments ago.

"what'd ya say we ditch this joint, yeah?" he said once he'd pulled away.

"but bruce.." she began to murmur, obviously still dazed.

"the gala can wait," he reassured. "i'm not needed there anyways. what matters to me is getting you home."

she frowned up at him, but it really didn't take long for her to give in. she hated to admit it, but with how rough he had been, there was some much-needed aftercare in store for her. and knowing bruce, he was going to make it his life's mission to make sure she is as comfortable as possible.

"alright.." she said eventually. she went to step out of his grasp, only for her legs to buckle under her weight on the first step. stifling a laugh, bruce scooped her into his arms bridal-style before she could even process what had happened.

"you still think he could fuck you better than me?" he teased as he pushed open the door. all she could do was giggle in response, resting her head on his shoulder as he carried her down the corridor and into their waiting car. as she'd suspected, she was showered in warm baths, cozy cuddles, and her favorite snacks for the rest of the evening, and though she was definitely sore, there was not a single ounce of regret in her mind.