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sluttysnowangel666 · 11 months ago

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Northern Attitude - cregan stark x reader

Summary: Cregan’s wife feels he is a cold and distant husband, but he finds a way to show her just how much he loves her. he doesn’t mean to be cold it’s just his northern attitude 😏

cw: smutttttyyyyyyy it was almost fluff but i just can’t help myself lol. reader slaps cregan a few times, (not abusively im just a freak😔), size diff, oral (f & m receiving), spanking, porn with little plot

masterlist

Cregan Stark loved and adored his wife. Perhaps he loved her almost too much, as he avoided doing anything that might tarnish her as a lady.

He did not share his chambers with her, even though that was the custom in the North. He rarely touched her, aside from their rather delicate bedding ceremony after their union. And, he rarely spoke to her, as he was too afraid of saying anything that may disrespect her.

His wife found this agonizing.

Their union had, of course, been one out of duty but it didn’t change the fact Cregan had been more interested in her than any other maiden in the North. Her father, Lord Mooton, had offered her hand years ago when Cregan’s father Rickon still ruled the North, but his father felt Cregan should one day make that decision on his own when he became Warden of the North.

Cregan had met her when they were both ten and three, when his father Rickon hosted a feast for all of the Northern lords to come and celebrate the end of a particularly harsh winter.

She was timid and quiet, but they shared a dance and then she had never left Cregan’s mind since.

Now, some odd years later, she was his wife and he was delighted. However, his wife believed to think their union was misery for him.

Their first bedding was ever so gentle, Cregan lightly caressing her hair and cheeks, yet he held his head low into her neck to contain his moans. Her sweet whines and whimpers made him want to go feral, yet he dared not defile his wife.

She was still the quiet girl he fell in love with all those years ago. She sat next to him silently during feasts and trips to other houses, almost like a pet that only acts when called upon. When she did attempt to make conversation with her husband, his words were short and dry. She knew Northern men were often of few words, but she did not expect her union to be that way. If he was so cold, why had he chosen her specifically? The thought frustrated her greatly.

It was not his intention to be this way. It was just how his father was, and he couldn’t help but learn that behavior.

When Cregan learned he would have to make a moon’s trip to the Wall, he wanted to make sure his wife would be in well hands before leaving.

Knock. Knock. Knock

“You may enter.” She said, softly.

She turned as her husband entered her chambers, dressed in his furs and armor. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He closed the door behind him, then stepped a few paces closer inside her chambers.

“Are you leaving?” She asked, trying to hide the frustration in her voice.

“I must go to the Wall; the men there are in dire need of supplies and support. I plan to bring any prisoners of Winterfell to clear up our cells so that they may take the black.” He says, walking to sit across from her in front of the hearth. He admires her soft gray gown. Her hair was in Northern braids, out of her face so that it was revealing her delicate features. Her eyebrows knitted again, something he noticed she did when she was upset.

“Will you be alright to rule in my stead while I am gone?” He asks.

“I will be fine, husband.” She responds, curtly.

“If you feel unsure, I can-“ He asks, wanting to make sure she feels comfortable enough, but she cannot hide her anger anymore.

“I said I will be fine! Just go, and leave me alone as you always do!” She yells, standing and walking away from their seats at the fire place.

“Have I offended?” He asks, following behind her. He rests a hand on her shoulder, but she turns to face him and pushes it away.

“No. You’ve made your point to not offend at all, in fact. We’ve been wed for three moons, you’ve only taken me to your bed once, and you refuse to even acknowledge that I’m here. You avoid me like the plague, Cregan. Have I been the one that has done something to offend?” She asks, her voice thick with anger.

He can’t help but let out a dry laugh, “Apologies, my wife,” He takes her hands in his, and she nearly gasps in shock at his touch. “You must forgive my northern attitude, I was raised on little light.”

“You seem to forget I’m Northern as well, husband.” She says, finally catching his eyes for the first time in their marriage. A small smirk plays on his lips.

“My wife, you are such a beauty, and if I am a distant husband then I apologize for that. It is no fault of your own. I simply do not wish to… treat you any less than a lady deserves, but it seems I have gotten too lost on the way. I apologize for my errors, Lady Stark.” He rubs his fingers gently over her hands. She doesn’t know how to respond, a dry chuckle escaping her lips. All this time, all she wanted was some hint that Cregan Stark had any sort of emotions or feelings, and here was her confirmation. He did, and by the old gods and the new did he have many for her.

“When I return, my dear wife,” His finger traces her jawline. “I promise you that I will treat you with the respect you want and deserve. In the meantime, I do beg for your forgiveness. This is my first union.”

She lets out another dry chuckle. “It’s mine as well.”

He presses a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I will send a raven the moment I reach Castle Black.”

With that he turns to leave…

But she isn’t done with him.

Cregan is almost sure it didn’t happen, he hardly even felt a breeze through his furs, but when he hears the sound of metal on the floor he knows she threw something at him.

He turns to look at the mug on the floor, then to his wife, bewildered. “Did you just throw a chalice at me?”

“Your lady has not given you permission to leave.” She says, “I want the wolf I was promised.” She continues, standing across the room.

“What?” He asks, confused. She throws another mug at him, but he deflects it this time. “Stop, what- What are you doing?!”

He holds his arms up to shield himself as his wife throws more and more objects from him, including her boots, candelabras, books, nearly anything she can get her hands on.

He walks towards her, angry, ready to… he doesn’t even know, perhaps frighten her into stopping.

She places his hand on his chest when he’s finally in her reach. She takes his hand, pressing it to her chest to tear off her gown. He lets his hand go limp, but she makes him do the work anyway. He’s too confused to understand because she was just so angry with him. She lets his hand fall and begins to take off the dress herself. It falls to the floor off her body, and then she is standing naked before him.

“My lady-“ She cuts him off with a harsh slap across his face. He stares back at her, his jaw slack.

She does it again, his head barely even moving at her hand. It wasn’t the pain (there was none), but the act that was pissing him off.

She goes for a third, but he grabs her by the wrist before she can reach him.

“This is your only warning, my dear wife.” He says, holding her small wrist in his hand.

“Or what?” She teases. It was that response; that sultry, lustful, desperate response that makes him realize she was teasing him. She was aching for him, eager for her husband before he left her.

He doesn’t move, staring her down with a fire burning in his gray eyes. Her other hand finds his other cheek again, and his length grows stiff in his leathers.

He lets go of her wrist, only to grab her by the waist and toss her on her bed. She gasps as she lands, giggling shortly after.

He climbs over her, resting his weight on his hands and leaning in to give her a deep and tender kiss. She moans, immediately pulling his head closer and weaving her fingers in his curls. He moans in response, his hand finding its way to her breast.

“I’ll make it up to you, wife.” Cregan says, pressing kisses on her cheek before moving down her body. He kisses every part, before resting between her legs. His hands wrap around her thighs, kissing and licking softly just outside her wetness.

She whines, wiggling around only for him to press a hand on her stomach to keep her still. He pulls her onto his lips, and she lets out a sigh of ecstasy. He’s harsh and unrelenting on her cunt, unlike how she’s ever felt before. Her pleads for him fall upon death ears as Cregan realizes just how hungry he was for her.

He wanted to say fuck the journey, fuck the Wall, fuck the North, fuck everything. He wanted to die here, in this sweet and delightful cunt of his wife’s. Her fingers lace into his brown curls, pulling on them tightly, and he whimpers at the sweet pain.

Her eyes water as she draws closer to her climax, the feeling so foreign and unique that she doesn’t know how to react.

“Husband, oh gods.” She cries. She grinds her hips onto his face, and he lets her lead. He locks his eyes onto hers, but that fiery look in his eyes makes her break first, and she throws her head back as she releases onto his lips.

He kisses her thighs as she comes down, a trembling mess in his strong arms. He kisses his way up her bare body, until he’s face to face with her. Her eyes are closed tight as she attempts to catch her breath.

“Will you stop throwing things at me now until I return, my dear?” He asks, gently.

She opens her eyes to look at him, “Where has my wolf been hiding this whole time?”

“In his den.” He gets off the bed and stands, prepared to take his leave when she grabs his wrist.

“You wish to go before I can return the favor?” She asks.

“You needn’t do such thing.” He says, not wanting to cross too many boundaries.

“You’re too modest.” She says, pulling him back towards her by the band of his leathers. He wants to push her off, but can’t. She unlaces his breeches, then stands from the bed to remove his cloak and furs.

“My men are waiting for me, wife.”

“What’s a few more minutes to the Warden of the North?” She says, lowly. She undresses him, from his armor down to his small clothes.

She kisses down his chest, as he just did to her moments prior. She slowly takes him into her mouth, licking and sucking on his length.

Cregan groans, his hand instinctively finding its grip in her hair. She whimpers at the sudden pull, and he immediately loosens it.

“Don’t stop. I like it.” She whispers against him. He obliges, pushing her head deeper onto him.

“Fuck.” Cregan moans in the air, his voice rising an octave. He’s almost embarrassed at how desperate he sounds. “Please, wife, just like that.”

His hands gently rest on the sides of her head, his fingers woven into her hair as she slobbers onto him.

“My husband is more needy than me.” She whispered, and gods was she right. Cregan had grown to regret being so coy with his wife the past few months.

“The gods have blessed me with you, my wife.” He moans, and she smirks onto him. She finally had him right where she wanted him.

“Then bless me in return.” She says, pulling away and leaning back on the bed, spreading her legs to bare her sweet cunt to him. He moans at the sight alone. He crawls over her, positioning his length along her entrance. She eagerly wiggles her hips, only for him to push her hips down.

“Patience, little wife.” He says.

“I’ve been patient for three months. I fucking want you, Cregan.” She pushes him onto his back beside her. She mounts him, sliding herself down onto him. Cregan moans loudly, and she smirks.

She ignores the aching stretch, immediately grinding her hips against him. His hands grasp her waist, holding them so tightly they’ll bruise by the time he leaves.

She throws her head back in ecstasy as Cregan keeps his attention on her face. She is beautiful, even when she is a whining and sweaty mess. One of his hands cup her cheek, weaving his fingers into her locks. She stares down at him, her mouth agape as she moans.

“You are so beautiful, wife.” He says, rocking his hips below her to meet her thrusts. “But your little tantrum isn’t going to go unpunished.”

He locks her in place with his hands, refusing to let her grind against him any longer.

“Wait, Cre-“

He pushes her off, rising from the bed so that he can push her onto her stomach. He pins her wrist behind her back, her fingers twirling to try to find any support to hold onto.

“Now how many items did you throw at me, lovely wife?” Cregan asks, lost in the lust that he had tried to bury when he married his wife. Now, he had no shame to degrade her.

“I… I can’t remember.” She says, muffled into the furs of the sheets.

“I believe it was 6. Let’s make it fair.” He says, landing a harsh smack to her bottom. She lets out a whine, and he pushes himself back inside her, not giving her a moment to catch her breath. Her breath hitches in her throat, and he lands another smack, intending to leave marks.

“Good luck sitting on that throne while I’m gone, wife.” He says, landing way more than 6 smacks to her red bottom. She moans at the pain and pleasure of the smacks and Cregan’s thrusts. The feelings were overwhelming, yet pure ecstasy. Tears brim her eyes as she screams in pleasure, sure enough so loud that all of Winterfell will hear.

“I hate you.” She moans.

“On the contrary. I think you love me.” He says, pressing his chest to her back and wrapping his hand around her throat, continuing to be in relentless with his thrusts. He drowns in her lascivious moans, feeling her cunt leak all over him and her bed. He reaches his other down to her cunt, gasping at all of the wetness that pools in his hand.

“Gods, wife, I didn’t realize how bad we needed each other. You should have told me sooner. I would have defiled you a long time ago.” He groans into her hair. She whimpers pleads of her need for release, and he grants it to her.

She cries in such pleasure, her hands finally finding a comforting grip against Cregan’s hand around her throat.

She rakes her nails into his hand, and he moans, finally spilling himself into her after three long, aching moons.

He presses a gentle kiss to her temple, then pulls out to lay beside her.

“Are you alright, my wife? Did I hurt you?” He asks, caressing her red bottom and her waist, tinted red from his harsh grasp.

“No, not at all.” She breathes.

“No, I didn’t hurt you or no, you’re not alright?”

She laughs, turning to face him to hold his cheek. “Husband, I am better than ever.”

He kisses the tip of her nose, gently caressing her cheek, not wanting to leave her.

“Must you still go, husband?” She asks, sadness in her voice, “Just when I’ve finally got you?”

“Unfortunately I must go… But, tis’ like you said; They can wait another day for the Warden of the North. I want to be with my wife.”

She smirks, propping herself up to look over him. “Northern attitude indeed, my lord husband.”

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hirasunny · 5 days ago

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Unforgotten Vow

pairing — k-drama! yeon sieun x fem! reader

synopsis — you and sieun made one simple promise when you were kids, and you continue to do so as you got older.

warnings/reader notes — mentions bullying, you and sieun r crybabies (in a good way), sunshine reader and sieun absolutely adores it, he thinks you're a goddess, references to season 1 plot

genre — childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, slight angst

word count — 2.5k+ words

note: hi! it's me again <3 i want to thank you for enjoying my fics! i read all of your comments and appreciate it a lot :( it really motivates me to write even though i'm not the best at it. much love u guys ^^ as a thanks, here’s a story dedicated to this precious boy 💛 p.s: should i make a part 2? TT

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Sieun was 7 years old when he met you.

He was celebrating his birthday at the park before he accidentally tripped and scraped his knee.

His mom and dad sat by the picnic table a few feet away from him, yet he moved unnoticed to a nearby bench. He sat down in pain as he tried to stop himself from crying.

But it was unsuccessful, his tears fell on his lap continuously. He had a feeling that his father was going to scold him again.

“Are you okay?”

Your voice was small and chirpy when you went up to him in question, tilting your head while he wiped his face and nodded—he was not one for talking.

However, you spoke again, “Do you need a band aid? I can give you one.” You asked shyly.

Sieun looked at you closely, your clothes dirty from possibly playing a lot, your hair was in decent braids but some strands already sticking out, and your legs were visibly decorated with dirt.

He moved to your face, chubby cheeks and (e/c) eyes that held curiosity in them. The boy didn’t mutter anything but still took the band aid in your offering hand, ripping it open.

You smiled and sat down beside him as you continued to talk with newly found confidence. Sieun didn’t even know what you were saying—was it about the kids at the playground? He wasn’t sure. You were talking too fast and too much.

Nonetheless, he listened.

It felt like an eternity when his mother finally called out for him; she seemed surprise as soon as her eyes landed on them.

“My mom is here.” Sieun stated, having a glance at his parental figure. That was the first time he opened his mouth, you thought. You pouted at him.

“Already? But I was going to invite you to the slide.” You responded, upset. He didn’t talk—but you liked his company. He was the only one who didn’t cut you off from speaking!

Sieun gazed back at you weirdly. Why weren’t you telling him mean things like the other kids do? And you even want to play with him. It puzzled the poor boy.

Then, he noticed your lips change from a frown to a big grin instead. “But you’ll be back right? We can play next time!” You say in excitement, nodding to yourself.

“What’s your name? I’m (Name)!”

He took a long time to process it before he answered, “Sieun.” Honestly, he had no idea why he replied, but maybe it was the way you were determined to make him your friend.

It made him feel normal in some way.

“Sieun..” You repeated slowly, just to get used to the sound of it rolling off your tongue.

A shout of your name stopped him from speaking up, you took a glimpse in that direction with a pout, “It’s my mom! I gotta go.” You huffed, looking at the boy beside you.

“Come back, okay? I’ll be here tomorrow!” You added, giving a wave as you ran to your mother. He stood up, observing you.

He disliked going outside. But if it meant that you were there, it might be bearable.

—

“Sieun! What happened?” You breathed out after running. The boy was sitting alone at the swing as he stared into abyss.

To everyone else, he looked completely fine.

But you knew him—if you stare in his eyes long enough, you would see how much emotion he actually keeps by himself. And right now, you had no doubt that he was going through something heavy.

“Your mom’s really worried, she called and said you weren’t at home.” You inform softly, settling at the swing next to his. The night was quiet, you heard nothing but the sounds of trees brushing against one another and the creaking of your swings.

You got comfortable as you admired the starry sky.

“My parents..” Sieun started, following your gaze. You hummed, an indication that you were listening.

“They’re getting a divorce.”

You raise your eyebrows in shock, looking back at him. “What..?”

He avoided your look, the ground being more interesting than the look on your face. He felt disappointed that you had to see him like this. Again.

Yet you never cared.

The word was quite new to you, it was only recently when you discovered its meaning—though you knew it was more than just a word that hurt Sieun. It meant something to him.

So you placed a hand on his shoulder and peeking your head closer to his, “Hey, it’s gonna be fine. You have me.”

Sieun finally looked at you, his eyes speaking to you more than words could express.

Thank you, they say.

You laughed lightly, ruffling his hair. He hated when people touch his hair, but you? He never minded.

“But if you have to move someplace else..” You rest your hand back on your lap. “Promise me you’ll come back?”

Oh, why were you looking at him like that?

Like you never want him to go?

Sieun’s shoulders eased and his tense look melted as he studied you. Then, he slowly raised his pinky finger. “I promise.” He told you truthfully. You smiled at him, finding the sincerity in his words.

You hooked your pinky with his, “Okay.” You whispered as to not ruin the peaceful moment.

Sieun was 10 years old when he promised you that he’d come back if he ever left someday.

—

Fate jinxed the both of you.

It must’ve laughed for the reason that it was you who had to move away instead of him.

Here you were, crying uncontrollably in front of your best friend at the airport.

“This is so unfair!” You sobbed, violently wiping your tears as Sieun gave you a tissue. He hasn’t said a single word since the ride to the airport. He seemed out of it, you noticed.

On the other hand, this was his first time to skip a few classes. You were surprised when he showed up at your house unannounced. You kept asking him several times if it was okay for him to do such a thing the whole car ride, he would simply nod as he stared at you after, you ignored it out of nervousness.

You never knew that he was memorizing you, because it could be the last time he’d ever see you again.

The star hair clip he gifted you on your birthday was neatly on your hair, the way you bounce your knee rapidly each time you get anxious, your backpack had all sorts of keychains that you buy from school trips with him, and the looks you give him—every smile, every funny face, every pout and cry. He'd remember it all.

Sieun took a mental note of all the little things, like he was studying: because if this test is about you, surely, he'd ace it.

Though, he wasn't the only one who notices, you also recognized a few things. Like his tight grip on the strap of his bag was evident, the slight twitching of his fingers—a habit he does when he’s overthinking, and his brown orbs that look at you to tell you everything you need to know.

He's...wait.

Is he tearing up?

You widen your eyes as he shuffled awkwardly and looked down, trying to maintain his posture.

"You're.." You were hesitant, but you took a step forward, bringing him to your embrace. You heard sniffles on your shoulder as he laid his forehead there while his arms remained by his side. He didn't know where to place them.

"Don't cry, you big baby." You murmur, your tears slipping out for God knows how many times today. "I'm gonna come back, you know that." You assured him. His hands finally moved to your back, gripping your shirt as he nodded.

You two stayed that way for a few minutes before his gaze lingered at you, "Promise me you will." Sieun lowly spoke with trembling lips. You exhaled from your nose, bringing his hand close to your chest as you do the same, then interlocked both of your pinkies.

"I promise you, more than anything."

Sieun was 13 when you left South Korea.

—

Three years had passed by as Sieun faced everything alone.

The problems, the bullying, the guilt—

Suho.

Every step he took felt like he was getting pulled down further and further away from the light he once saw.

From Suho, and most especially from you.

What would you think of him if you knew what was happening in his life right now?

He got his answer when he saw you.

You.

Your figure stood patiently outside his apartment door, a plastic bag containing all the snacks you used to share together was held loosely in one hand and your phone on the other.

Your appearance had completely changed. Your hair grew a bit longer, and the baby fat on your cheeks now reduced. You looked different, but deep down, Sieun hoped you were the still the happy-go-lucky girl he knew.

As you raised your phone to your ear, you check your left. You paused as the phone of the boy you were waiting for rang loudly in the pocket of his jacket.

The two of you stared at one another as the ringing continued, you, however, smiled knowingly at him.

"I kept my promise."

Sieun couldn't believe he could run that fast when he brought you into his arms.

Slowly, the chaos in his mind went silent.

Finally, for once. He was at peace.

Momentarily, he realized he was crying because you had to wipe the tears away, "I know," You still told him in a caring tone. "I'm here."

No other words were needed as you both remained in each other's arms for a while that day.

A few days had gone by rather quickly, and you started to see more of Sieun. He had grown taller since the last time you saw him, his voice was deeper from the timid, high-pitched one you always heard, and his eyes that used to shine at you were now dull as an unsharpened knife.

Regardless, something else had brought your attention—his walls that broke down when you met him was building itself up again. He became distant. The Sieun you cherished was back in his little shell, the one who refused help and locked himself away from people. You knew you had to pull him out.

So you were present, just like before. In every visit at Suho's hospital, you sat beside him when he typed out his messages; in every school he got rejected to, you had a list of backup schools he can apply for; in every night he had nightmares, you were only a call away; in every session at therapy, you were there outside, waiting.

Despite all the hardships and troubles he was facing, you smiled warmly at him.

He never understood any of it. It resembled the times when you were kids. Where you stayed with him more than anyone else.

How can you, someone so beautiful, still smile adoringly at something so broken, with its pieces gradually falling apart?

One time at the bus stop, it was extremely cold when the rain poured heavily around you.

Even as you laughed at a sarcastic comment he made about freezing to death, you still took his cold hands to yours, blowing on it. "What are you doing?" He questioned, startled as he tried to withdraw his hands.

"Keeping you warm, dummy."

You were glowing, and you gaze at him with the same loving grin. His heart fluttered, feeling his frigid fingers soften and warm up because of you.

He pretended not to know if the cause of his face and ears going red was also you.

You never complained and never rushed. You were there, patient and supportive.

Soon, he thought of himself from a few years ago. Whatever 13-year-old Sieun had realized when you went abroad, he was right.

Because he loved you. For the longest time.

And he was not going to let you go.

Just before the day he would move to the new apartment in Yeongdeungpo, where he was accepted in a school named Eunjang High, he knocked on your door, with your favorite food and drink.

"Wow! Is this your goodbye gift?" You teased him, taking the bag from his hand as you let him inside.

He wordlessly sat down when you invited him to the couch, you tilt your head. When Sieun was quiet, he had something in his mind. There was a sparkle of certainty in his puppy-look eyes as he stared at you.

"You okay, pretty boy?" The nickname was familiar, you always called him that ever since your playground hangouts. He often tells you to stop that—but you couldn't, not when you notice his ears getting red and his lips that tries to refrain himself from smiling.

“…” Crap. What was he going to say again? He made efforts to practice in front of the mirror only for him to fail at the moment he needed his words.

To you, it looked like he was struggling. It worried you.

You took the guts to place a hand on his cheek, fixating his focus on you. "Sieun, what's going on—"

"I love you."

You let out a surprised sound, your eyes wide at the sudden words.

You felt a sense of rushing emotions inside you. Was it excitement, shock, or bashfulness?

Whatever it was, you were just sure it was making your face hot.

Okay. That was straightforward.

But it was Yeon Sieun, the boy who always had a sure answer.

You pinch his cheek lightly, he squinted his eyes at you as if it could help his ruddy ears from turning back to its original color. "Hey, are you crazy?! Why are you saying such things?" You asked just so you can lighten up the conversation.

"Because I do. I love you." He calmly told you again, the three magic words made you cover your face. "Okay, okay! I get it." You were embarrassed, could he not act so nonchalant?! You were freaking out here!

"Is it.. bad?" Sieun mumbled, watching as you grumble something in your hands, somewhere along the lines of: "Curse those cold-blooded veins in your body!"

You looked at him, red faced with a pout. "No, of course not! It's just that..."

You trailed off, finding the strength to face him again and held his cold hands in your warm ones. You took a moment, "I.. I love you, too. Since forever." You breathed out, smiling shakily at him.

Were you a Goddess? Sieun thought. How could you look so beautiful?

He leaned to you, initiating first. "Can I kiss you?" He asks in a deep voice, pulling your hands.

You gulped nervously, nodding as no words could come out of your mouth.

He moved, closer and closer, until your noses touched and the two of you closed your eyes. The world around you stopped moving when his lips gently settled on yours.

Sieun was 16 when he kissed his first love.

#weak hero class #weak hero class 1 #weak hero class 2 #weak hero class one #weak hero class two #weak hero class x reader #whc1 #whc2 #yeon sieun #yeon sieun x reader

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uravitypng · 8 months ago

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bird creature/hybrid keigo takami x chubby reader

KINKTOBER: breeding (+praise)

word count: 3.0k words / mdni ! 18+ / this turned into a full on fic and is pretty fluffy tbh <3 it has more plot than porn sdfgjhbmfbxfvcbsxn and i haven't read it through properly but ssshhhh

being kicked out of your party sucks, 'you don't fill the roll of beast tamer' or something, they've found someone more skilled and experienced so now you're stuck alone in the middle of a forest after accepting a quest which you currently regret taking.

it should be a simple herb collection quest but it's being more of a hassle than it's worth, you shred off the top layers of your clothes and tie it around your waist, dropping your sheep hide bag and gulping down some of your water. after a while you stumble across a clearing with a lake and it looks like you'll finally be able to have room to properly set up your tent.

you don't realise but you're being watched. golden brown eyes piercing down at you, watching you with hawk-eyed vision on high alert to his surroundings. you met him the following morning, as you were leaving your tent something suddenly blocked out the sunlight before landing next to you. a bird creature was in front of you or maybe he was a hybrid, you weren't sure but he was rather intimidating. this man has bright red feather wings with a huge wing span and sandy blonde and white small fluffy parts on his arms and chest covered with a brown flimsy tunic with a handsome human face with golden eyes and blonde windswept hair. you're already quite fearful but after you spot his talons that look like they could slice you in half you really start panicking.

you were able to calm down when he smiled and held out his hand, you flinched first but in his palms where berries. you know those berries, they were edible, very rare and very tasty. later you found out his name was keigo but everyone call him hawks, when he told you this he also told you that he wanted you to call him keigo. he has limited human speech and it was hard to communicate with each other but you both tried your best.

you don't know this but when you accepted the berries he gave you in his mind that made you his mate, it solidified it in his mind and he was very happy that you accepted his advances. he's your provider and he has to look after you. you don't know that he thinks like that though.

you should of left the forest weeks ago, there was no reason for you to stay... well apart from keigo. you knew he would stay in the forest it's his home, you couldn't ask him to go with you and why would he? 'i probably care about him a lot more than he does me, which is fine! he likely has plenty of friends and his own kind in the forest, i just miss company after what happened with my old party... i like his company.' you can't bring yourself to leave, not yet, even if that means you're getting close to the rainy season, and it's always dangerous to be out in the wild in the rainy season. it's so easy to wind up dead, your body never found either downstream or at the bottom of cliffs that people can't access.

"shit!" you were foresting for some berries when you felt a drop of rain fall on your head, that drop turned into ten, then twenty, then fifty, all in a matter of seconds. you nearly fell as you tried to turn back to the somewhat safer option of your tent but the ground below you quickly became mud and slippy causing you to trip, luckily you were able to catch yourself on a nearby tree before falling face first and getting back as fast but safely as you can.

you're soaked to the bone and as the tent finally meets your eyeline it's getting you to walk quicker. you hear something above and you look up the best you can, covering your eyes with your hand but still somehow some water gets in your eyes, looking above you see hawks flying to you. "keigo, what are you doing?! go home, get in the tent, get anywhere. i know it might be different for you, i know you're less fragile than me but it's still raining heavily. what if there's lightning!" you shout at him to the sky.

keigo lands down, water slashing you in the process and getting mud on your trousers. he's careful as he pulls you towards him, making sure his talons won't hurt you and you're pressed against his body, "come." you're confused and you try to move so you can reach your tent but as you look behind you your back straightens as you see your tent. you don't even know if you could call it a tent anymore. the wind has blown it so much that it's just broken cut up fabric tied down by one singular peg, the others already blown away. "come," he repeats himself and pulls you closer towards his warm body before flying away, you can't help but scream as you lift up off the ground and you swear over the rain you can hear keigo laugh. you always wondered what it would be like if he took you up in his wings to fly, you've always thought they were so majestic but you never envisioned it going like this.

it's hard to hear and talk over the heavy patter of the rain but you try anyway. "keigo where are we going?"

"home," he replies and you hear him loud and clear, you don't know if that's because he's louder than the rain or leaning close to you or if you hear it loud and clear because your heart is just beating out of your chest at the answer.

it seemed like a long while of flying but when you finally reached the floor keigo carefully landed and put you down. looking around to where you are you see that you're outside a cave but you don't know that you can call it a cave anymore. at a quick glance from the outside it looks like it was originally a cave but the opening is covered by rocks, wood and other building materials, keeping the inside warm and dry. there's a wooden door to the side and you think you can see a lock on it. the outside reminded you a lot of your childhood home but you can't pinpoint why. "come," he grabs your wrist cautiously with his talons and leads you inside.

a blast of heat hits you when you enter and you immediately warm up, even if it's just a little bit through your wet clothes. it looks pretty barren apart from some small trinkets along the wall and the bed is covered in blankets and other fluffy comfortable things, definitely more comfortable than anything you've been sleeping recently. you stay where you are not moving from the door, not wanting to get everything wet. keigo leaves but comes back a minute or so after with a towel for you and second one in his hand for him.

"thank you," you say quietly and shyly taking the towel from him. after doing your best to dry your hair and dry the rest of your clothes keigo leans down to your neck and nuzzles you while cooing, heat quickly rises to your cheeks and he pulls back and takes you further into his home before dropping your hand and he goes back into one of his back rooms.

you miss his hand in yours but when he returns he's holding a shirt, "for you."

"me?" you point to yourself and he nods. "i don't know if it will fit, i might be a bit small." you tell him but he looks back at you with an easygoing smile that puts you at ease. you know it probably won't fit right, you're not exactly small but you don't have much choice with how wet your clothes are. "thank you," you return his smile. you feel small under his gaze as he looks at you, it seems like he has no plan to leave you alone to get changed or look away. "um, okay, i'll-" you turn away from him and lift up your top. when you take it off and start to fold it keigo holds you from behind, wrapping his arms around you, his wings softly fluttering. you get flustered and wonder what you should do, this isn't normal human behaviour but keigo isn't human maybe this is completely normal for him, although he's never done this before, but maybe he knows how cold you are.

"k-keigo i need to put this on, i'll get cold." he's slow as he takes his hands off you, making you shiver in the process. you quickly get changed pulling on the top that you've been given and pulling down your trousers. you were right about how it doesn't fit you but at least you're dry. the top is thin and covers up to your mid-thigh, the fabric tight along your waist, stomach and breasts but it's still comfortable. you turn round to look at him and twiddle with your thumbs, he smiles at you again and rubs his face against yours, making your cheeks heat up.

"drink?"

"huh?" you ask slightly distracted by how intimate this is.

"drink? keep you warm." he gestures to you and then gestures to another room. you nod your head, not knowing what drink you're saying yes to but happy to be warm and experience what drinks keigo likes and drinks, it might just be tea you'll have to wait and see.

you feel a bit uncomfortable just standing around and you don't notice any chairs so you perch yourself on the bed, hoping keigo won't mind. when keigo comes back he's wearing different clothes and he's holding two mugs, you smile at him and you notice he doesn't smile back. 'did i do something wrong? he's not smiling. maybe i was wrong about him not minding about me sitting down on the bed, i should of just stayed standing up.' keigo is holding onto the mugs so tightly that his hands are turning white. "i'm really sorry keigo, i didn't mean to make you angry," you rush out as quick as you can, hurrying to get up but as you start lifting off the bed two feathers rapidly leave keigo's wings and pins you down to the bed by the top you're wearing. you've never seen him do that before so part of you is thinking about how impressive it is, the other part of you worried and confused hoping he'll forgive you for whatever accidental mistake you made.

keigo places the cups down on the side. "i'm sor-" before you can finish your sentence, he moves on top of you, making your eyes widen, at that moment you see his eyes, heavily dilated looking down at you tenderly but hungrily.

"do you like?" he asks stroking your chubby cheeks.

"like?" you ask confused.

"nest." he kisses your nose.

you're not one hundred percent sure what you're saying yes to but you think he's talking about what you're laying on and you do like it, it's warm and cosy and you could stay here for ever. "i like it very much. i could stay here forever."

keigo trills when he hears you say that, "did a good job?"

you never thought keigo would be one for seeking approval but you suppose everyone does. "amazing job." you nod your head and lift your hands up to his wings and run your hands through them making him shiver. after all that's happened you're still surprised as he gently bites your lip, a silent request for you to open your mouth and you grant him access, parting your lips, keigo taking the lead controlling the movement as your tongues intertwine and you kiss. you have no idea how much time goes by, so caught up in the moment, it could of been three minutes or thirty for all you know, all you know is how good everything feels.

as you move apart you open up your eyes to see him smirking at you, your cheeks are hot. he kisses the corner of your mouth and squeezes your plush thighs before gently trailing his knuckle up and down your inner thigh, slowly inching up your, his, top. keigo brings both his hands to your outer thighs and slivers up the rest of the top until he sees your hips, eyes practically glowing as he nuzzles your neck again.

at some point while all of this was happening he started rubbing his hard dick along your thigh, getting precum everywhere, you had no idea when was able to take off his clothes.

this time he uses his talons as he rips up your underwear leaving you bare and maybe you should be scared of how close his talons were to you but you weren't. he uses his knuckles again and brushes along your opening, he thrills when he feels how wet you are and before you even realise it he's slowly pushing himself into you. he sees you wince and kisses all along your neck and pauses for a second, then continues just as slow as he was before not wanting to hurt you. when he's fully in he waits and kisses you all over, touching all over your body, your hips and stomach especially, groping and squeezing. keigo feels you start relaxing around him and starts moving, slow thrusts in and out of you, not wanting to hurt you.

keigo's thrusts start to speed up uncontrollable as he kept feeling you clench around him and how wet you are, almost feral, animalistic. a white creamy ring forms at the bottom of his dick and he becomes more and more feral. you moan loudly and bury your head into the soft blankets and materials. "feel so good!" you cry out mumbled against the pillows. you ball your fists up into the covers, holding onto them tight and keigo goes harder.

"you feel good too. i'll keep making you feel good," he leans down to your ear and kisses your cheek. you nod your head even though it wasn't a question and keigo's eyes dilate even more than they have been. he touches you very gently, circling against your clit and kisses your pulse point, delicately sucking a mark on your neck. his pace stays the same, still fast. your back arches and you feel the coil in your stomach winding up more and more, so close to snapping. you whine as the coil in you snaps and you cum, body tight in an arch before shaking.

keigo smirks as he watches your body fall and go limp. he picks up your legs and folds you in half, gripping hold of your thighs tightly and his pace increases so fast that it leaves you breathless, your body bounces and he watches you ravenously. "gonna give you my seed, gonna make you a pretty mummy." keigo chokes a groan and holds onto you tighter. you should be trying to move away and tell him no but you don't, instead you clench tighter around him and nod your head rapidly in desire, you've never wanted something so badly. warm ropes of cum spills into you filling you up. keigo smirks and peppers your face with kisses.

"keigo have you seen how messy tsunagu's clothes are! it's a nightmare washing them all the time!" you complain scowling as you pick up your youngest sons shirt.

keigo chuckles and comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing you behind you ear, "he's such a troublemaker." you shiver as you feel his breath against your skin and his voice so close to you, he smirks.

it's been five years since you first stepped foot in your home, it's been five years since you and keigo first had sex. in those five years a lot has changed, your relationship included. you and keigo have no problem communicating anymore, both now speaking the same language with keigo learning how to write and read everything too. you have two boys together and they're wonderful. you got married and it was one of the happiest days of your life. you've practically abandoned human civilisation, by your own choice. occasionally you'll go into town if you need something but you stay in the forest most of the time. you've met keigo's friend and they all call him hawks, even the ones he's known since children. you asked him why he told you to call him keigo when you first met especially since everyone calls him hawks and he told you it's because he knew as soon as he met you that you were his mate and you would spend the rest of your life together.

"i know a way to calm him down." you hear the mischievous tone in his voice.

you play along, "oh?"

"i think he needs to be a big brother." he pulls you closer to him and rubs your soft stomach.

grinning wide, "really?"

keigo hums and kisses your neck. "yeah birdie, a little one he can help and look after will keep him out of trouble." he nuzzles against you and plays with your stomach. he turns you around to look at him, holding onto your hands and smirking. nonchalantly asking, "what are we aiming for this time? a girl or another boy?" he taps his finger to his chin, "i'm thinking girl."

"i'm thinking a girl too," you smile fondly and kiss his nose. keigo's wings flutter out when you kiss him and you giggle.

"i'll lock the door."

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subtlenighttribute · 25 days ago

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Reader x Selkie!Caleb, Selkie!Zayne, Selkie!Sylus, Selkie!Rafayel, Selkie!Xavier

Fluffy | Seaside nonsense | Magical realism | All fluff, zero plot...maybe a little in the end.

---

Your seaside vacation cottage has been declared a "high traffic lounging zone" by five large seals with suspiciously human eyes and extremely dramatic personalities.

They've taken over the yard.

You let it happen.

This is your life for now.

---

🐚 Xavier – The Royal Seal

Xavier is a velvety silver seal with flawless posture and an unshakable belief that your garden hose is attacking his dignity.

He only basks on the rocks between 9 a.m. and noon—the "golden hour", he chirps proudly (you swear he winks at you when he does it).

If you’re near, he’ll pose- trying to keep your attention on him at all times.

His sassyness can rival that of Rafayel.

One day you offer him a mirror- curious as to what he would do.

He looks at it. Looks at you. Chirps meaningfully, almost innocent.

Later, you find your handheld mirror missing and Xavier sunbathing with it perched delicately on his belly. He’s using it to angle light directly at Caleb's face.

---

🐟 CALEB – The Chaos Goblin Seal

Caleb is long, sleek, and spotted—built like a torpedo with ADHD.

He appears out of nowhere at all hours. Crashes into your deck furniture. Tries to slide down your stairs like a waterpark.

He regularly brings you:

a broken snorkel

someone’s lost sandal (still wet)

an unopened can of soda

a crab (very alive, very mad)

You had to put a fence and baby gate around the herb garden after he flops through it like a toddler in a ball pit. You tell him "no" and he barks indignantly... with basil hanging from his mouth.

When you tried to take a bath once, he wedged his entire body against the bathroom door and wouldn’t stop screaming until you let him in.

He then fell asleep on the bath mat like he won.

---

🐺 SYLUS – The Guard Dog (But He's a Seal)

Sylus is pure white. Giant. Heavy. Always watching you like you might die if he blinks.

He has big red eyes and the energy of a bodyguard who thinks the garden hose is a weapon.

You once tripped while carrying groceries. Before you could hit the ground, Sylus launched himself at you, caught your fall with his bulk, and glared at tour shoes for trying to harm you.

If anyone walks too close to the house, Sylus growls like a low drumbeat until they leave. That includes the mailman.

He’s particularly hostile to Caleb when he gets too rowdy near you.

Once Caleb flopped against you and Sylus picked him up with his teeth and tossed him down the beach like a water balloon.

Then he turned to you. Grunted.

You gave him a fish stick and scratched his chin. He allowed it.

---

🫧 RAFAYEL – The Delicate Seal

Rafayel is inky gray, eyes deep and soulful like a stormy tidepool. He always seems like he floated to your porch on pure moonlight.

He gets cold easily. Like, very easily.

He wears scarves in seal form. Scarves. You didn’t even know if he actually put them on purposefully or if some tourist thought it would be cute. He seemed to love it though so you won't say anything.

You hand-knit one for him. He squealed and nuzzled into you, and chirped for ten straight minutes while his flippers gently patted any part of you he could reach.

Rafayel enjoys being swaddled in blankets and sighing dramatically while staring out to sea like a wounded poet. If he could write in seal form, you’re convinced he’d pen love sonnets about the smell of your perfume.

Sometimes he rolls onto your feet and just vibrates softly, like an emotional Roomba in need of love.

---

🌧 Zayne – The Mysterious Lump With Feelings

Zayne is the least seal-like seal. He’s pure black, sleek and quiet, and everybody in town swear they have never seen him move- except to flop away from touchy tourists.

He’ll appear silently in a new spot every few hours—perched on the railing, under your hammock, on top of the dryer (???). His eyes follow you, with so much emotion and knowledge- almost like an ancient sea god trapped in a squishy body.

You’ve never heard him bark. But he will stare at you from across the garden until you sit beside him. And then, without warning, he’ll lean heavily against you and sigh.

He gives you the kind of ancient, intense affection that says, If you leave, I’ll follow. If you stay, cuddles.

You try to offer him snacks. He doesn’t react.

Until you walk away. Then a cookie is mysteriously gone.

---

☀️ The Great Seal Pile

One afternoon, you bring out a fleece blanket, lay down to read, and within five minutes—

Boom.

You are buried under:

Rafayel curled at your side, flippers on your arm.

Caleb, halfway on your stomach, snoring.

Xavier, balancing his chin on your hip like royalty.

Sylus, shielding all of you from the wind like a snow-white mountain, his back flippers on your feet.

Zayne, silently pressing his cheek to yours, blinking slowly like a cat.

You're stuck. Flattened. Warm. Covered in seal fur.

Your phone buzzes. It’s your coworker texting:

> "Are you coming back to the city next week?"

You stare at your screen.

Then at the five seals breathing softly around you.

You type back:

> "Maybe?."

You sigh.

What were you going to do now?

#lads #lads rafayel #lads sylus #lads x reader #lads xavier #lads zayne #love and deepspace #selkie au #selkie

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sansaorgana · 10 months ago

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— SISTER'S CHOICE

BROKEN OATH (AU)

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Princess Elaena Targaryen (OC)

SUMMARY — You manage to escape Oldtown after fifteen years of marriage to Ser Gwayne Hightower in order to join your sister Rhaenyra in the upcoming war. Despite the oath given to Rhaenyra, you struggle to be away from your husband and children. Things complicate when you meet Gwayne in the battlefield.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written from the Reader’s perspective but she is a Targaryen and Rhaenyra's younger sister. I did not describe any of her body or face features except for that she has silver hair, lilac eyes and her name is Elaena. The story is quite long already so I haven't described the beginnings of Reader/Elaena with Gwayne or her childhood – you can find them in the "Broken Oath" fanfic (link above), which is an AU of this one (or this one is an AU of "Broken Oath" 🙈). Canon events are treated very loosely here for the purpose of the plot (Rook's Rest for example).

WARNINGS — Reader/Elaena is responsible for the deaths in the battlefield & if you're Team Black you might be unhappy about the ending (+ I don't like Daemon and it shows, sorry)

WORD COUNT — 9,930 (💀)

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

SISTER'S CHOICE

It was quite a long trip from Oldtown to Dragonstone but you hadn’t made any stops and now both you and your dragon were exhausted. The sun was slowly rising when you arrived but you had a weird feeling deep in your guts – some sort of anxiety – before seeing your sister after fifteen years. How would you even greet her now? What would you say? That fear alone was stopping you from landing.

Eventually, you spotted a few people looking out for you from the castle. They had to be wondering what were you doing, circling around Dragonstone without clear intentions. After spotting your sister’s long silver hair in the wind, you decided to order Onyx to land on the sandy beach and you waited for someone to come out and greet you.

Sighing, you looked around and breathed in the fresh air. It felt so odd to be out of Oldtown – you hadn’t left it in fifteen years. Not even once. You had grown so used to it that you nearly missed it now. You certainly missed your children. They had to slowly wake up now and you wondered what your husband would tell them about your sudden absence.

Would they understand? Would they grow up to hate you? They were only children, you couldn’t expect them to comprehend the complicated situation of the upcoming war, the delicacy of your family’s relations. And what kind of mother abandoned her children like that? Perhaps it was true what they were saying about The Targaryens – just like dragons they rode, they were difficult to tame. Even an obedient and dutiful Princess like you still had fire and blood running through her veins.

Finally, you spotted your sister and a few of her guards walking towards you. You took off the hood of your cloak and petted nervous Onyx to calm her down.

“Sister,” Rhaenyra greeted you and you hurried to her side, leaving your dragon behind you. You gave her an anxious smile as your eyes scanned hers carefully.

She had grown older those past fifteen years but you couldn’t help a feeling that she had grown sadder, too. Either way, she was still your sister but also your Queen now.

“You came, Elaena,” Rhaenyra smiled at you nervously.

“My Queen,” you bowed down and the hood of your cloak fell onto your head again. Rhaenyra chuckled at that and approached you to fix it.

“It is green,” she pointed out while caressing the fabric of your cloak when you two were face-to-face now. Then, her fingers moved down to the golden clasp, which was The Hightower emblem.

“Forgive me,” you unclasped the cloak and let it fall down on the sand. “I am here now, by my sister’s side,” you told her.

“Come, we’ll make space for Onyx in the dragonpit,” Rhaenyra smiled at your dragon and tilted her head a little. “She’s as big as Caraxes now, do you know?”

You were surprised. You had no idea that your young and small dragon had grown so big. It was also unexpected that it had happened in Oldtown where Onyx had been alone and you had not been flying on her often either. She had been spoiled with sheep and your affection but that would be it, really. Other than that, she had been pretty bored there.

“I am glad,” you smiled at your sister. You wanted to take her by her arm but something was stopping you – some invisible barrier between you two and it was not because she was The Queen, no.

She had always been your father’s heir to you anyway. You had gotten used to the fact that Rhaenyra was your superior. The barrier was caused by the fifteen years apart. Despite knowing it was your sister, despite sharing the same blood, the same silver hair, the same lilac eyes – it was a stranger walking down the beach with you.

“Why did you come?” Rhaenyra asked, genuinely. The guards left you behind and watched Onyx fly up again to rest in the dragonpit after the long journey.

“You need dragons and dragonriders in the upcoming war with Aegon,” you answered, a little surprised as if you couldn’t understand why she had even asked that. It was obvious, after all.

“You loved him when he was a babe, did you not?” Rhaenyra smiled gently.

“I love him still, just like I love you – and to you I have sworn my loyalty,” you answered.

“Haven’t you sworn it to your husband, too, on your wedding day?” She kept inquiring and you grew uncomfortable with that. You didn’t want her to mention Gwayne because you were trying your hardest not to think of him.

“Are you suspecting I might be my father-in-law’s spy?” You suddenly turned your head around to look deep into her eyes. “If so, you hurt me deeply.”

“I would never suspect that!” Rhaenyra gasped and held your wrist to squeeze it assuringly. “You have been telling me in your letters that your marriage is a good one, that you love your children dearly. And now you are here, with me,” she pointed out.

“The war is coming,” you only shook your head.

Hadn’t she been expecting you to come and join her? In her letter, you had read that between the lines and now she was shocked to see you? When she had been asking for your loyalty and for remembering your oath… What had she been exactly expecting?

However, you had no opportunity to continue this conversation because you reached the castle and your uncle Daemon was waiting there with a very unpleasant expression on his face.

At first, your heart swelled in your chest at the sight of him. You wanted to run up to him and greet him like back in the old days when you had been a young girl and he would bounce you on his knee. But you froze at the sight of him eyeing you up and down as if you were an intruder.

“What does she want?” He asked Rhaenyra and you swallowed thickly at that tone of his voice.

“She is my sister, Daemon. She came to support me,” Rhaenyra explained.

“And you believe her?” Daemon whispered but you could hear him perfectly well.

“I can hear you, Uncle,” you nodded at him and he shot you a cold glance.

“That is King Consort to you. We don’t trust Hightower cunts here,” he drawled out.

“Daemon!” Rhaenyra scolded him and you were standing there, petrified.

You were not used to being treated this way. In Oldtown you were a Lady of the town – every man was bowing his head at you, they were showing you nothing but respect and your own Lord Husband would challenge Daemon this very moment if he had heard or seen the way you were treated.

But your Lord Husband was not here because you had abandoned him to join your sister. Your sister – not Daemon. So, you held your head high and clenched your jaw at him.

“I am Princess Elaena Targaryen,” you introduced yourself to him in case he had somehow forgotten. “Lady Hightower, to you, dear Uncle. Lady of Oldtown,” you added even though the last title was not technically yours yet as long as your father-in-law was alive but you had been ruling the city in his name alongside your husband for fifteen years now and everyone called you that.

Daemon, however, found your titles somehow funny. He chuckled at you.

“Onyx has grown, Daemon,” Rhaenyra informed him. There was a hint of harshness in her voice that made shivers go down your spine. Something deeply disturbing was going on between them and you had a feeling her marriage was not as wonderful as she had been describing it to you in her letters. “She’s as big as Caraxes now,” she added.

“But not as experienced,” Daemon dismissed that and laid his eyes on you again. He squinted them and looked you up and down before speaking to you again eventually. “Well, come in, Elaena. We are not in a position to refuse any dragonriders,” he said and turned around to walk away.

You looked at Rhaenyra, questioningly.

“Forgive him, he is nervous about the war and we have also lost our child recently… Our baby girl was born dead,” she sighed and caressed your arm.

“I am so sorry to hear that,” you whispered and gave her a hug. “Still, that gives him no right to speak to you in such a manner. You are his Queen, but, most importantly, his Lady Wife,” you explained. “Such manners are shocking to me.”

“It makes me glad,” Rhaenyra answered mysteriously and you furrowed your brow, “for it means that you had never experienced such treatment from your husband.”

You were given your own chambers in the part of the castle reserved for the royal family and you knew that it was the highest standard for Dragonstone but you missed your chambers in Oldtown dearly. The comfort was incomparable… The Hightower was cosier and warmer – it was full of wood and colours instead of the cold, grey stone. The Reach was warmer overall and the sound of the waves was soothing there, meanwhile in Dragonstone the stormy weather was keeping you up all night.

Not just the sound of the raging sea but also thoughts of your family. Each evening you were crying yourself to sleep, imagining the bedtime of your children, remembering all the rituals Gwayne was doing before going to sleep and you missed them dearly. You especially missed laying in your bed together and discussing your day – trying to work out some problems around Oldtown or with your children… Sometimes gossipping together. And now, you were squeezing your pillow tight and trying to communicate with your husband telepathically. Yet, you still had no idea what you would tell him if it was possible.

He hadn’t written you any letter and you couldn’t blame him since you left Oldtown without even a note on his desk. Yet, each time there were new letters coming to Dragonstone, you were expecting to see the familiar green envelope and your husband’s handwriting; begging you to come back. Gwayne, however, had his pride and you couldn’t be sad or angry about it now because you had always admired him for it.

Seeing Rhaenyra’s relationship with Daemon was only making you miss Gwayne more. He was a Lord Husband that so many women could only dream of – even The Queen of The Seven Kingdoms, apparently.

Daemon was not the only person treating you with a hint of mistrust. Your aunt Princess Rhaenys was by your side but even young Jacaerys was staring at you without a word most of the time even though you had been playing with him and bouncing him on your knee when he had been a babe.

It was not easy to get used to all of this – the coldness and emptiness of your chambers, the treatment of others. From the beloved Lady of Oldtown to a mistrusted Princess, a prodigal sister.

Your loyalty and surname that had been given to you through marriage was being brought up regularly, mostly by Daemon – especially during dinnertime or supper.

“It was not my choice to marry a Hightower and even if it was… I married Gwayne fifteen years ago. No one could have suspected this war…” You rolled your eyes at one more remark by the dinner table.

“Don’t be naive, Elaena!” Daemon snapped. “Everyone has suspected. That was the very reason why Otto Hightower sent you to his son in Oldtown.”

You didn’t answer and you felt the eyes of everyone staring at you and expecting some sort of remark. Daemon smirked at your silence, feeling like the winner.

“I am not used to being yelled at and treated in such a way. And I am certainly not used to dinnertime being a battle between the family members,” you stated calmly.

“Go back to Oldtown then,” Daemon scoffed. “If you find it so insufferable here, then go back to your husband. Do you think he is going to greet you with open arms after such betrayal?” He laughed and shook his head while taking a sip of the wine. “He is going to greet you with his sword instead, Princess,” he mocked your title and you swallowed your food thickly, feeling your stomach turning upside down.

Daemon had only voiced out the anxiety that you had been having for some time now – that Gwayne did not miss you at all. That he did not feel nothing but anger at you and that he would kill you at the very first opportunity. After all, you had hurt his pride and you had stained his honour and these things mattered to him more than anything else – except for your children, of course.

Your marriage had been good but it didn’t change the fact it was an arranged union and not a love match. Sometimes, though… Sometimes, laying in your bed, here, in Dragonstone, tossing and turning, you were quite sure that you had grown to love him, which was quite ironic to have such thoughts now when you had already ruined everything between you two. But you were sure he was not having the same thoughts about you anyway.

“My sister is more than welcome here,” Rhaenyra gave her husband a scolding look and squeezed your hand. You smiled at her, gratefully.

But the thing with Rhaenyra was that despite being The Queen, no one really seemed to care about it. No one except for you, Rhaenys and Daemon’s daughters. All the men, though, were still doing everything their own way. And Rhaenyra herself could not find any solution to deal with that, which made you wonder if she would really be a good Queen…

Not that you had ever voiced that out for it would be treason. You loved your sister and you were obliged to serve her because of the oath you had sworn. But still, you sometimes couldn’t help feeling that she was not a strong leader. On the other hand, it was not that surprising because she had no real experience in such matters and when things had gotten difficult in King’s Landing, she had fled to Dragonstone instead of staying in The Red Keep and learning how to be a good ruler.

The death of Lucerys had shaken everyone. The very first victim of the conflict being such a young and innocent boy… You were speechless and you had no words of comfort to offer. You were a mother, too, and you just couldn’t imagine what Rhaenyra had to feel.

You locked yourself in your chambers instead and spent your whole day staring at the small portrait you had taken with yourself from Oldtown. It was a portrait in the size of a locket and it was of your own four children – twelve years old Steffon Hightower with silver hair and lilac eyes standing next to his nine years old brother Loras Hightower who was a copy of his father with his auburn hair and blue eyes. The girls were sitting on the carpet – six years old Lysa Hightower with her father’s auburn hair and your lilac eyes and three years old Roslin Hightower with silver hair and blue eyes. You felt the warm tears streaming down your cheeks and all you really wanted was to hold them and make sure they were alright.

Sometimes you regretted your decision to flee from Oldtown. Perhaps you should have been an obedient and loyal wife like your mother had always been teaching you to be. It would save you lots of trouble.

Fifteen years earlier, before your departure to marry Gwayne, Rhaenyra had confessed to you that she had wished to be more like you – less rebellious, less stubborn. Meanwhile, you had always wished to be more like her and now you kind of were but you finally understood the price for it, too.

It was Princess Rhaenys that came to your chambers on that day. She sighed at the sight of you and approached you with a soft smile. She took the small portrait from your hands and took a look at the faces of your children.

“How accurate is it?” She asked.

“Very,” you sniffled your tears back. “I sleep with it under my pillow every night. And by day, I have them close to my heart,” you confessed.

“They’re very beautiful children,” Rhaenys sat next to you on the edge of your bed and handed you the portrait back. “What are they like?”

You knew she was trying to help you. She wanted you to talk about your children and let out all the tears that no one else in the castle would want to see now. Not even Rhaenyra because she was grieving her own loss. Meanwhile, your children were safe and sound in Oldtown but your heart was in grief anyway. You were grateful that your aunt wanted to hear about them because you felt like it was expected from you to not express any feelings towards The Hightowers, Oldtown, your husband or your offspring at all. Each display of affection or a hint of the fact that you were missing them was perceived as an act of treason.

You had sacrificed so much for them but no one seemed to understand the significance of it. No one except for Rhaenys and Rhaenyra but they were only two and against many.

“You would like Steffon the most, I think,” you caressed his little face on your portrait. “A true Targaryen, look at him. And he is so…” you chuckled through the tears. “So brave and bold. He’s going to be a knight like his father and, somehow, I have a feeling he’s going to be a dragonrider, too. I don’t know how but he’s determined enough to claim one,” you assured her. “And then there’s Loras…” Your fingers moved to your second son. “He inherited all the kindness and goodness and gentleness from Gwayne. From me, too, I assume. There is not a mean bone in his body. And my girls…” You moved your hand down and sighed. “That is Lysa, the one with auburn hair. And the little one with silver hair is Roslin. They… They were spending their whole days following me around and clinging to my skirts… I have no idea how they are managing now…” You sobbed and hid your face in your hands.

Rhaenys put her arm around you and pulled you closer as she rubbed your back to soothe you. She leaned in to kiss your temple.

“Their mother is strong and brave. She is righteous,” she whispered. “One day, they will understand it and forgive you. You had this calling in you, the calling to join your sister for you are a Targaryen, you are a dragonrider. We are never only mothers and wives and proper ladies. We are wild creatures, Elaena. Just like our dragons,” she lifted your chin up, forcing you to look into her eyes.

“I thought of taking them with me but… But they’re safer in Oldtown, far away from here. And Gwayne… Well, he would hunt me down and kill me for that, I am sure. He is a devoted father,” you tried to explain yourself but no matter how much you were doing so, you still felt like a terrible mother.

“You were right to leave them with him then,” Rhaenys caressed your arms. “Your husband will protect them and of that you are sure, I can see. They are safe there.”

“When this war ends, when we win…” Your lower lip trembled. “I will be allowed to reunite with my family, right? Rhaenyra will allow me?” You asked, a little unsurely.

“I am rather convinced that after we win this war, you are going to remain the Lady of Oldtown,” Rhaenys nodded and kissed your forehead. “You’re going to raise your children there and watch them grow happily.”

“And… And my Lord Husband?” You sniffled, while Rhaenys tilted her head. “I mean… He has to die, right?”

“I highly doubt Daemon would allow it any other way,” Rhaenys told you.

“Whatever he might be saying, he is not The King,” you reminded her.

“That decision will not be Rhaenyra’s to make. Daemon and Gwayne will most likely meet on the battlefield sooner or later,” your aunt reminded you and fixed your hair delicately. “You must think of your husband as dead from now on if you want to survive this,” she added and stood up to leave your chambers.

You knew that she had meant that with the best intentions but it only made you sob even more. You took another look at the portrait of your children and your heart squeezed in your chest. What was giving you a guarantee that Daemon would not hurt your babies, too? He seemed to be filled with an ugly desire to wipe all Hightowers out from this world.

Weeks had passed and you had grown colder and sharper lately. Daemon was not around any longer for he had left for Harrenhal, which was helpful, but if he was still in Dragonstone, you would surely be ready to confront him each time now. You were confronting everyone else whenever they doubted you and on multiple occasions you had confronted them to defend your sister, too.

You still missed your family but all those lonely nights had made you turn pretty heartless sometimes. All those suppressed feelings and regrets had made you a woman who was holding her head high and who was more and more sure of her skills. You were flying Onyx every day now to strengthen your bond even more and it was giving you lots of confidence.

Despite the fondness you still felt towards your marriage, you knew aunt Rhaenys had been right and the marriage was over now. You also realised how much you had missed out in those past fifteen years. You had been living more like a Hightower than a Targaryen. Your husband was a good and kind man but still – he had been trying to tame the dragon blood inside of you. You had not been riding Onyx enough and your High Valyrian had become rusty. Now you were finding your old self back again and all the pain you were feeling because of missing your children only fueled you to be even colder and sharper towards all of those who were doubting you.

When you entered the hall where the council was gathered, everyone nodded their heads at you and you didn’t even bother to nod back. As the Lady of Oldtown you had been respected but you had always been kind in return, too. In Dragonstone everything seemed to be turned upside down.

But why would Princess Elaena Targaryen bow down to any of these men inside the castle that had belonged to her ancestors for centuries now? It was your home – perhaps not in the same domesticated way as The Hightower but Dragonstone was your blood’s home and you would not bow down to anyone inside of it except for the monarch.

The only person you bowed at was of course Rhaenyra herself – your Queen, your sister. Not a perfect Queen and only slightly better sister but you had sworn to her and you valued honour just like your Lord Husband did.

“The battle is coming,” she explained to you as she pointed at the table with the map of Westeros because you were late to the gathering after flying on Onyx for a little too long this evening. “Tomorrow, the armies will clash around Rook’s Rest,” she added and pointed at the place.

“That is close,” you tilted your head. “But the castle has no significance to us, does it?”

“We have already lost enough and we cannot lose more!” one of the Lords protested. “It’s about our honour, my Princess.”

“I want to send a dragon,” Rhaenyra moved one of the stone dragons on the map to put it alongside the Black Army. “I do not intend to use it in battle. No burning, no crushing. I do not wish to be remembered as the first side of this conflict who used a dragon to kill her enemies because once we use them as weapons, the destruction from both sides will be unstoppable,” she explained and the Lords from her council sighed and rolled their eyes.

Those foolish, non-Targaryen men really wanted Rhaenyra’s dragons to cause slaughter, not understanding the possible consequences.

“The dragon will be there to patrol the battlefield – it will be there just in case the Greens send their own, too. And it will be there to intimidate the enemy. Intimidate only,” Rhaenyra pointed out.

“I shall go,” Baela spoke up and everyone laid their eyes on her but you spotted that Rhaenyra was unsure. Baela was like a daughter to her and even if the dragon was not supposed to actually participate in any fighting, it still was a risky business to go.

“I shall go,” you straightened your back and now everyone looked at you. Baela was visibly unhappy with that, too. She wanted to prove herself.

“But…” She started.

“Onyx is bigger than Moondancer,” you told her. “And I am older. This is far too dangerous for you.”

“But…” She sighed again and looked at Rhaenyra in a way that suggested she knew something you had no idea of. “Who is going to tell The Princess?”

“Who is going to tell me what?” You shook your head questioningly as you looked at all the gathered members of the council. The men clasped their hands and looked down or they tried to avoid your gaze in different ways; looking through or behind you, turning their heads away and clearing their throats. “Who is going to tell me what?” You repeated the question, irritated now.

“Elaena,” Rhaenys finally spoke up and you looked at her, “it is your husband who leads The Green army now, so we have been informed. Your father-in-law called for him and Ser Gwayne Hightower came all the way from Oldtown to lead the army of his nephew.”

You blinked a few times at that revelation, still not processing it fully.

“And Cole?” You asked.

“Aegon named him his new Hand,” Rhaenyra informed you. “He was summoned back to King’s Landing.”

“And Otto?” You furrowed your brow.

“Probably on his way back to Oldtown, Gods only know,” Rhaenyra scoffed. “It doesn’t matter now, Elaena. What matters is that your husband leads the enemy’s army.”

Short silence occurred and you knew that everyone was observing your reaction carefully as if they were inspecting you. But those past few weeks you had learnt how to keep a poker face on. Your jaw was clenched as you discretely wiped your sweaty hands in your skirts.

“I shall go,” you nodded, surely.

“Elaena…” Rhaenyra gave you a meaningful look as if she was scolding you. “I do not think this is a good idea.”

“It must be. It is my husband,” you explained.

“Do you think he might stop his army from attacking at the sight of you?” Jacaerys asked you but you spotted a hint of mockery in his voice.

“I do not know. It might motivate him further to attack, it might want him to stop or it might make him indifferent,” you admitted, truthfully. “But it must be me going there,” you insisted, looking deep into your sister’s eyes.

You desperately wanted her to understand that it was important for you to see him again – even if it would be under such circumstances.

Rhaenyra nodded and you cracked a smile although some men were whispering between each other about this decision but you decided to pretend not to hear it.

“You shall leave at dawn,” Rhaenyra told you. “But, Elaena, remember – do not attack, do you hear me? If The Greens bring their own dragon and they use it, only then you are allowed to join the fight,” she pointed her finger at you.

“I understand,” you nodded your head. It was the reason why you wanted to do it – because it meant patrolling and intimidating only, not the real fight.

“Good. I trust you, sister,” Rhaenyra smiled at you.

“Thank you, my Queen.”

In the morning, you didn’t even have breakfast, too nervous for the upcoming battle. You let your maids braid your hair according to the Valyrian customs and you wore an armour that had been made for you recently. It would be the first time you'd actually wear it outside.

The armour was made of black metal with the ornaments made of Valyrian steel. It was light and feminine but it was intimidating, too, and surely worthy of a dragonrider. You insisted on the black colour because of Onyx’s scales.

You hid the small portrait of your children inside your armour and you looked at yourself one more time in the mirror. You couldn’t help but smile although it was difficult to recognise yourself like this.

“I am a dragon,” you whispered to yourself and lifted your chin up. “I am a Targaryen Princess and I am a dragon blood, a dragon rider – a dragon myself,” you repeated, trying to motivate yourself and with a deep breath, you left the chambers as fast as possible to go to the dragonpit.

Onyx was already waiting for you and a brand new saddle had been placed upon her back – it was matching your black armour. She purred at the sight of you and you petted her nose the way she liked it.

“We have a job to do, my girl,” you told her. “We have to scare Gwayne a little,” you chuckled and she huffed in a way that resembled laughter, too.

With a smile, you jumped on her back and you flew out of Dragonstone. Onyx roared when you were up in the sky as if she was saying farewell.

It didn’t take long to get to Rook’s Rest on a dragonback but the closer you were to your destination, the more nervous you were becoming. You saw from a distance the banners of the two armies and you could hear the clinging sounds of their armours in the wind, the battlecries and the cannons.

They were starting the battle already when you arrived and Onyx announced you with a long and loud roar. You straightened yourself and looked down proudly, with a smirk on your face. Everything froze below you for a moment and then a thunderous cheer greeted you amongst the Black Army.

It was a powerful feeling, you had to admit. No experience of yours could match with it – no memory from when you had been The Royal Princess living in King’s Landing, no memory of your recent time now in Dragonstone and not even any memory of yours from Oldtown where you had been the Lady Hightower.

No amount of respect and power that had ever been shown towards you could match to what you were feeling now – you felt pretty invincible, in fact. And you knew it was bold of you and it was only caused by the sudden rush of adrenaline but in that moment you felt like The Queen yourself. Like you could challenge Rhaenyra and Aegon both – after all, you were their sister, too. Your father had been The King and you were a Targaryen. You had been born to rule over those people below you – those small figures that resembled ants in comparison to your Onyx and its fire.

It was scary how easy it was to forget that you were one of those ants, too.

You ignored the cheers of the Black Army and you looked down at The Greens, searching for one person only – obviously. And you spotted him as your heart skipped a beat.

Gwayne was sitting on his horse in his beautiful armour that you had always admired. Even from this great height you could see that he was looking up with fear in his eyes. You smirked and Onyx roared once again, more angrily this time. The Green Army was panicking as the men were shouting at each other and some were trying to hide.

All the time stopped for you for a short while, though. Your eyes were fixed on your Lord Husband only – it had been a few long weeks apart from him. You wondered what was going inside his head at the moment but most likely it was nothing but a paralysing fear. It was a painful death to die in the fire and he had been telling you about it a few times before that it was one of his fears whenever you had teased him about using Onyx against him. Now, it was no longer a banter between a married couple but reality.

You didn’t want to torment him any more. You ordered Onyx to fly away and leave The Greens alone for now as you went back higher in the skies to patrol the battle. Despite giving them a sign that you were not there to kill them, from the corner of your eye, you spotted that some of the cannons of the Green Army were now aimed at you and Onyx.

Gwayne, however, shaking out of his state of fear, ordered them to turn around and aim at the castle and The Blacks instead. You smiled to yourself and kept circling up in the air as Onyx roared.

Despite your strong bond with her, you could feel how uneasy she was, how impatient. It surprised you because Onyx was a young dragon and she had no experience in battle. In fact, you had suspected her to shy away or get scared at the sight the real fight. And now, your girl seemed to be pretty bold and angry as she huffed and puffed, while her muscles tensed.

“Lykirī, Onyx, lykirī,” you ordered as you patted her neck to calm her down but you had to admit that her restlessness was making you feel worried if you were even able to fully control her after all.

She roared and lowered herself. You squinted your eyes to observe the battle but you had to shout Lykirī! all the time at your dragon because she seemed to be more than eager to join the fight. The sight of her and the sounds she was making seemed to work, though. The Greens were terrified and kept looking up all the time to make sure she wouldn’t burn them all any second. Your intimidation plan seemed to be working better than you had expected.

A few times during the battle, you found Gwayne’s eyes somehow and he would look up back at you but then he would ride away on his horse. Each time, your heart clenched inside your chest and Onyx had to feel it because it was when she was growing the most uneasy.

So far, it was the Green Army that had been winning battle after battle but now they seemed to be too distracted by the dragon flying overhead. It was not the fault of your husband’s leadership – your knowledge of warfare was little but you could see even from up there that most of his orders and ideas were good. It was just simply not enough when a huge beast was a constant deathly treat. The morales were simply too low and you could see that some knights even tried to desert the battlefield in a desperate attempt to save themselves from your hypothetical dragonfire. Meanwhile, The Blacks were not as organised but they felt more confident than ever with The Targaryen Princess watching over them.

“Lykirī, Onyx!” You shouted at your dragon when you felt that her neck was tensing as if she was about to let out the fire. “What’s wrong with you, girl?” You hummed to yourself and leaned in to pat her neck and then you froze at the sight below you.

Gwayne was not wearing his helmet anymore and he was no longer in the saddle. You couldn’t spot his horse but he was surrounded by the Black Army knights. He was fighting them bravely but he was alone against four men and it was a hopeless struggle yet he refused to give up and become their prisoner. You looked around and spotted that most of the Green knights that remained in the battlefield were struggling in a similar way to your husband. You knew very well how it would end now. It would be the very first victory of your army and Rook’s Rest would be defended.

But at what price?

You could see Gwayne’s face more clearly now as Onyx lowered herself even further. He was exhausted and bruised, dirty from the mud and blood and his lip was cut. You had to fight an urge inside of you to just run into his arms, to hold him again, to kiss him, to be with him.

But, so far, it looked like you would never be able to do it since he would lose soon. And you would continue your life with the image of him dying in the battlefield – you would continue your life with regret of leaving him and then doing absolutely nothing to help him in the battlefield.

Onyx groaned loudly and exposed her claws and teeth. You were about to calm her down again and then you noticed something that you had not noticed before – she was not trying to attack the Green Army but… the Black one.

You froze as you realised that her eyes were fixated on the knights carrying your sister’s banners. The fire forming in the depths of her throat was aimed at the men gathered near the castle walls and trying to stop the attack of Gwayne’s army.

Onyx was not loyal to Rhaenyra, after all. Onyx was your dragon and she was loyal to you only. You were her mistress and her rider. She knew you better than anyone else.

Some of the knights of the Black Army cheered at you and your dragon – so confident and sure of themselves that they hadn’t noticed that Onyx’s anger was aimed at them. You squinted your eyes at the black banners of Rhaenyra and then the few of the remaining green ones of Aegon.

Gods damn it, you thought. You loved them both – your sister and your brother. But you also did not really care about any of them being the ruler of Westeros because you were not close with any of them. You had been close to your sister but that was fifteen years ago and now she was like a stranger to you. Aegon had been a baby when you left to Oldtown. Your real family – the man you loved, the father of your children – he was down there, struggling, and surely about to die soon if you wouldn’t do anything to help him.

“Dracarys, Onyx,” you ordered after taking a deep breath in. You watched as if you were outside of your own body how her fire destroyed half of the Black Army in mere seconds. You blinked a few times, still detached physically and mentally from the scene that you were responsible for.

Your dragon seemed to have lots of fun, though. She landed on the ground, crushing a few Black knights on the way. The remaining ones were widening their eyes, too terrified to move or they were trying to run away. Onyx did not need your commands anymore, she just kept on burning them as her waving tail destroyed the castle’s tower, killing dozens of men in the process. You were sitting in the saddle with your back straightened and your chin high, looking over death and destruction with the poker face you had mastered the previous weeks.

You had just become the murderer and the destroyer – the very first person in this war who used her dragon as a weapon. And yet, you felt nothing. Perhaps the regret would come later but all that mattered to you now was that Gwayne was safe again. The remaining Green knights ran up to him and helped him to defeat his enemies and then they stood behind their commander while watching the scene in terror.

When the Black Army was defeated by Onyx nearly single-handedly, you turned her around to face the remaining knights by your husband’s side and Gwayne himself. Onyx roared at them and you could hear that she was happy to see them but they didn’t know her the way you did, therefore they remained terrified. After all, you could have been a maniac who would kill everyone, right?

You were a Targaryen, after all.

You enjoyed their fear for a short while and then you ordered Onyx to lay down and she did so, allowing you to dismount her. Your legs were a bit shaky from all the hours in the saddle and all the emotions but you managed to do it gracefully enough.

You turned around to look into Gwayne’s blue eyes. They were filled with shock and terror but you ignored that completely, finally doing something you had wanted to do for weeks now.

You ran up to him and straight into his arms, nearly knocking him off on the ground as your armours clashed loudly. The knights surrounding him were observing the scene carefully, too scared to react in any way since your Onyx had just given the show of what she was capable of.

Now, however, she looked pretty adorable and innocent as she seemed to take a small nap in the middle of the battlefield full of ashes and blood.

“My Lord,” you cupped your husband’s face and he looked into your eyes with a hint of sadness that you could had expected. However, you were glad that it was sadness instead of anger. “Will you ever forgive me for abandoning you?” You asked, nearly innocently, while biting on your lip as if you weren’t responsible for all this death and destruction below your feet.

Gwayne looked nervously at Onyx napping behind your back and cracked a sad smile at you.

“Do I have a choice, my Lady Wife?” He tried to make a joke as he put his hands on your waist. “If I say no, you will order your dragon to burn me.”

“Onyx would never burn you,” you shook your head with a chuckle as you sniffled your tears back. “That dragon is more difficult to manage than I expected.”

“She is just like you then, my Princess,” Gwayne raised one of his hands to caress your cheek. His touch was gentle like he could not believe that you were really there, standing in front of him.

“She is my dragon, after all. Onyx knows my heart – I could lie to myself but I could never lie to her,” you nodded and then you looked around. “What a mess I have caused.”

“Indeed,” Gwayne only nodded and took his hand away from you.

He turned around and ordered his men to look for the wounded knights and to go for the castle since it was practically left for the taking now. They had to put the new banners on the walls now. You kept standing there and waiting for him to finish so you would be left alone to talk now. When it happened, he looked at you with a sigh and you cracked a smile at his handsome face even though it was bruised and dirty.

“I had to leave. She is my sister, I have sworn to her, she needed me,” you explained.

“I know,” Gwayne nodded. “It broke my heart, Elaena, but I understood. At least some part of me did. I could not understand how you could leave our children like that,” he approached you and you looked away, too ashamed to meet his gaze.

“How are they? What have you told them?”

“They are safe,” Gwayne assured you. “They miss you…” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I have lied to them… Well, not really. I have told them that you went to visit your sister. That it was an urgent family matter and you had no time to say farewell but you would be back… Soon,” Gwayne explained. “They are too young to know about the war so they believed me.”

“I doubt Steffon did. He is ten and two now, of course he knows about the war,” you pointed out and shyly looked up. “I shall go to them, even today. I shall take Onyx and go back to Oldtown to hold my children and…” You stopped when you realised something painful. “Of course, that is, if you allow me,” you fixed yourself.

“You are the Lady of Oldtown, I would never forbid you from the city,” Gwayne shook his head. “And you are their mother, they need you.”

“Yes, but so do you. Especially now,” you explained. “After seeing our children, I shall come back to you. I shall accompany you in each battle from now on. I have started something you have no idea of… Now Rhaenyra will make sure to send her dragons to war, too. Her pain and anger will be great from my betrayal,” you pointed out.

“Why did you betray her?” Gwayne asked, raising his eyebrow. “You have sworn to her, haven’t you? What made you change your mind to support King Aegon instead?”

“Fuck Aegon!” You dismissed him and he widened his eyes. “And fuck Rhaenyra. I don’t care about any of them.”

“You shall not be heard saying such things,” Gwayne chuckled nervously.

“They are my siblings, I can speak whatever of them,” you shrugged your arms. “I am by your side only,” you confessed and you looked away.

You knew it was a bit stupid to confess such things when you were the one who had abandoned him without a word of a warning or any explanation. You should be grateful that he was talking to you instead of cutting your head off – as your Lord Husband he had every right to after your stunt and since you were technically a traitor to both of the sides, no one would even punish him for killing you.

But Gwayne moved even closer to you and grabbed your wrist to squeeze it, which made you look up at him shyly again.

“I love you, Elaena. And please, do forgive me that it took me losing you to finally say it out loud. And if it took you running away to realise the same about me, then I can be only grateful for this experience. You are a dragon, my Princess, and I am sorry for forgetting about that,” he whispered.

You couldn’t believe your ears… He was apologising to you?!

“Do not be too greedy, Lord Husband. Do you really expect me to admit out loud that I love you as if I haven’t just betrayed my own army for you? Is that not enough?” You chuckled and so did he, awkwardly. He leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon the palm of your hand and then he caressed it lovingly. You could feel the longing and yearning in those gestures. “I’ve missed you,” you confessed. “I’ve missed us.”

“So have I,” Gwayne kissed your forehead. It was not proper to exchange such affections in public but you were in the middle of the battlefield so you did not bother to care about it. “But it would be my greatest wish for you to stay in Oldtown after coming back there. I do not want you on the battlefield, Elaena.”

“You can’t stop me,” you shrugged your arms and squeezed his wrists lovingly.

“Haven’t you caused enough trouble already?” He tried a different approach as he smirked at you.

“Watch me,” you smirked back and gently kissed him on the lips.

You hurried through the halls of The Hightower while all the maids and servants were staring at you with widened eyes. They certainly had not expected to ever see you again but no one was trying to stop you. You rushed to the nursery room where all your children had been gathered after your arrival. You had changed from your armour into a comfortable dress and had ordered your maids that you wanted to see your sons and daughters.

You finally pushed the doors open and tears of joy streamed down your cheeks at the sight of their faces. Loras, Lysa and Roslin hurried to you with big smiles and hugged you tightly. You crouched down to squeeze them all lovingly.

“Mummy!” Little Roslin seemed to be the happiest and she was practically shaking at the sight of you. Your heart ached for her when you kissed her all over her tiny face.

“We’re so happy to see you again, Mother,” Loras greeted you like a big boy and you cracked a smile at him before kissing his forehead.

“I am so happy to see you again, too, my love. I’ve missed you terribly,” you confessed, looking at Steffon from the corner of your eye. The silver haired boy was keeping his distance from you and staring at you questioningly. “Steffon?” You called for him and he walked up to you reluctantly.

“Mother,” he only said and kissed your cheek before moving away. “Does father know that you’re here?”

“Of course,” you furrowed your brow at him. “I saw him yesterday,” you nodded at him but he didn’t look convinced.

“And how was the time with your sister?” Lysa asked and you kissed her cheeks.

“It was good,” you nodded with a sad smile. “But I regretted that I couldn’t be with you.”

“Will you stay now?” Loras asked and you caressed his head gently.

“I wish I could but I have to join your father,” you explained. “We will be back soon. Together,” you assured him.

“Father left for the war,” Steffon pointed out.

“And I must, too. I am a Targaryen and a dragonrider, my darling,” you tried to explain. “Either way, let’s not dwell on that now. We have a whole day to spend together,” you squeezed the hands of your girls.

You didn’t leave your children even for a second for the whole day and in the evening you allowed them to sleep with you in your chambers that you share with Gwayne. Since he was not in Oldtown, there was a lot of empty space in the bed. Steffon did not join you in the evening, though, and for the whole day he was roaming around but never actively spending his time with you either. It was hurting you deeply but you wanted to give him space and you were aware that he was old enough to realise more than you’d like him to. You could not blame him for being angry.

Watching your sweet babies sleep, you could not drift off to the land of dreams yourself. You had spent the previous night in the arms of your husband after weeks of being apart and it had surely helped you to fall asleep but now you were being haunted by the visions of what had happened in the battlefield and of what Rhaenyra’s reaction had to be after hearing about your betrayal.

You were laying on your back and staring at the ceiling when the doors creaked as they opened and you lifted yourself on your elbows to see the intruder. It was Steffon.

“Mother?” He whispered. “Are you asleep?”

“No, my love. Come in,” you whispered back and carefully left the bed, making sure not to wake up the rest of your children.

You approached your son and put your hands on his shoulders. The night was cold, therefore there was a fire burning in the fireplace. You brought him closer and you both sat on a fluffy carpet there. Steffon avoided your gaze but you could see he was dying to ask you something.

“What is it, my love?” You fixed his silver hair gently.

“I know what the war is about and that you left to see your sister…” He mumbled out quietly. “You chose her. Not us,” he pointed out and dared to look up, his lilac eyes meeting yours.

“No, I chose you. You have no idea what I have done, the choice I have made,” you nodded at him and caressed his cheek with your finger. “I left to see her, she is my sister, my blood. I grew up alongside her, we share the same father and the same mother. But there was a hole in my chest because I missed you and… And I missed your father, too,” you confessed.

“I have never seen him sadder,” Steffon said and your heart clenched inside your chest. “I knew it was not about you visiting your sister. I knew immediately you had abandoned us.”

“I know you are angry at me now and you have every right to be. And I know how much children hate it when they are being told that but one day you shall understand it. Because you are a Targaryen, perhaps the most out of all my children,” you smiled at him.

“Because of my hair and eyes?”

“No, my love. All of my children are as Targaryen as Hightower. But you have the spirit… The fire,” you told him. “I love all my children dearly but you are a dragon,” you nodded.

“Do you have to leave again?” He asked and his lilac eyes filled with tears.

“I’ll be back,” you promised. “But I’m a dragonrider and when the war calls, I am on the go,” you explained. “Your father needs me by his side and King Aegon needs more dragons.”

Steffon sniffed his tears back and he finally moved closer to hug you. You wrapped your arms around him and placed a kiss on the top of his head.

In the evening of the very next day you were already dismounting Onyx in King’s Landing. All that travelling had been exhausting for you and her but it was necessary. You patted her and allowed her to rest in the dragonpit as you were being escorted to The Red Keep by a few guards.

You were wearing your armour again even though it felt a bit wrong to wear the armour that Rhaenyra had requested to be made for you so you could fight the war for her.

Gwayne was waiting for you by the gates to the castle. You smiled widely at the sight of him and you ran up to your husband as he ordered the guards to walk away because he would escort you to The King himself.

“And how was it?” He asked you after kissing the palm of your hand.

“Only Steffon knew, just as I suspected,” you sighed. “But we have explained everything to each other. I believe he has forgiven me or at least he is no longer cross with me,” you nodded. “I miss them again but the pain is less when I know I am with you,” you smiled and Gwayne took you by your arm to lead you to the council meeting.

“You have become quite a controversial figure, my Princess,” he informed you and you chuckled nervously.

“I do wonder why,” you tried to joke.

The doors were opened in front of you and you were announced as Princess Elaena Targaryen, Lady Hightower while everyone was staring at you.

The man sitting right in front of you had to be your brother Aegon because he was taking your father’s seat by the table. You bowed down at him and after a short while of silence, he laughed and clapped his hands.

“Sister!” He greeted you so happily that you were nearly suspecting an ambush. He stood up and rushed to your side to wrap his arms tightly around you. “Sister Elaena! How good it is to see you again! Do you remember me?” He took a step back and looked deep into your eyes, hoping for a positive answer like an excited puppy.

You cracked a smile at him and dared to move your hand up to brush a single silver hair strand behind his ear in a motherly way.

“Of course I do, my King,” you nodded. “You were a small babe then but I remember it fondly,” you assured him and it was no lie. “You loved to sit on my lap by the table and eat all the sweets that I was spoiling you with despite our father’s scolding looks. It was always our secret how many cakes you ate,” you reminded him and Aegon grinned at you.

“This is my sister!” He pointed his finger at you after turning around to face his council. “My sister who has burnt Rhaenyra’s army for me. Her loyalty shall not be questioned,” he announced and walked away to sit on his chair again.

You didn’t want to correct him that you hadn’t burnt anyone for him because it would be a political suicide to do so. You only cracked a smile at your husband. You didn’t expect the greeting to go so smoothly. Aegon seemed to be very desperate for any sort of attention or affection.

“Princess Elaena’s loyalty shall still be proven,” the tall young man without one eye smirked at you. That had to be your brother Aemond, whom you hadn’t met.

You sighed and rolled your eyes at that. Each side had their Daemon, apparently.

“I will be proving my loyalty to The King, brother. I do not owe you anything for we are equals,” you reminded him with a smirk, too.

Suddenly, Queen Alicent stood up and approached you to give you a warm hug. You hugged her back even though you were surprised by that welcome from her.

“We are happy to have you back,” she said and you spotted honesty alongside the sadness in her big, brown eyes. You nodded your head at her.

“My Queen,” you greeted her.

“Queen Dowager,” she fixed you. “Helaena is The Queen now. Do you remember her?”

“Of course,” you smiled at the image of tiny Helaena from your memories. “I would love to see her.”

“After the meeting,” Queen Alicent nodded and pointed at the empty chair for you. Gwayne stood behind you as if he was your sworn guard.

Well, as your Lord Husband, he was.

After the meeting of King Aegon’s council, you went to Queen Helaena’s chambers with Queen Alicent.

“Helaena, you have a guest,” her mother opened the doors gently. “It is your sister, Princess Elaena.”

After that introduction, you walked inside and bowed your head in front of your younger sister. She was standing by the window and turned her head around as her eyes widened at the sight of you.

“An oath-breaker,” she greeted you in a mysterious way that made a chill go down your spine. “You bring death and destruction.”

You had no idea how to answer that and you looked at Alicent, searching for some sort of explanation but she only blushed and looked down, uncomfortably.

“Our Queen often speaks in riddles,” she told you.

“No, your majesty,” you shook your head, “I do know very well what our Queen means.”

MASTERLIST

#gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower x oc #targaryen oc #lilysfiction

522 notes · View notes

miabebe · 1 year ago

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Masterlist

| Seventeen | Monsta X |

Series

Reverse Tropes - One Shot Series of popular tropes turned upside down (rated m)

(Taglist)

Seungcheol - Too many beds | 13K |

Choi Seungcheol may be your parent's best friend's son, your next door neighbour for 20 odd years and the one face you saw every damn time, every damn where but that didn't mean the two of you wanted anything to do with each other. But a business trip - one room, three nights, and seven beds - might just be what it takes to change it all....

Jeonghan - Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss | 29k |

The cost of one harmless prank? The city's biggest mafia leader taking refuge in your house. And maybe that wouldn't have been such a problem if he wasn't so hot and you weren't such a coward, but apparently, fate just does things for the ✨plot ✨ sometimes...

Joshua - Really nice guy who hates only you

Jun - Fake amnesia

Hoshi - Bet to make someone fall out of love

Wonwoo - Academic rivals who are fighting to rank last in class

Woozi - Soulmates fated to kill each other

Seokmin - Everyone thinks you're fake dating when you really are dating

Mingyu - Too much communication

Minghao - Divorce of convenience

Seungkwan - True hate's kiss

Vernon - Your mom bought a seventeen member

Dino - Dating your enemies sibling

Camp Seventeen - Series with Seventeen as Greek Demigods (rated m)

| Prologue | Character Profiles | (Taglist)

(Ch. 1) Dildo of Dionysus It's been a week since you stepped foot in Camp Seventeen - as you navigated the days trying to wrap your head around the 13 boys, one's touch and another's voice start to become a bit too bothersome….

(Ch. 2) Aphrodisiacs of Aphrodite As you delve deeper into the world of the demigods, a party throws you spiralling down a road less taken. While it seems there's one member who may be able to help you, there's another you want to lend a hand to. And more.

(Ch.3) Apollo's Anthem As the days in camp seventeen unfold the many burdens you had tucked away in your heart, you dive into the sorrows you had presumably left behind. Thankfully (or not) a musical moment and a menacing monster serve as unforeseen distractions.

(Ch.4) Night at Nyx As many truths come forth, life on camp as you know it begins to change. After living a life which was never your choice, you now had to choose between family and love. But more importantly, would they choose you?

Tales of Time - Series of age old tales with a twist (rated m)

Choi Seungcheol - The Legend of the Sea | Epilogue |

"You're crying? You must be turning Human, the Merfolk don't cry" "Of course we do. Why do you think the Sea is nothing but salt?"

Halloween Hearsay - mini series of thrillers for Spooky Season (rated m) - Completed.

Choi Seungcheol - The Intruder's Eye

Was it really love if it didn't include just a little madness? What was love if it didn't cross the line? And how was it love if it didn't make one want to keep an eye at all times?

Yoon Jeonghan - Anything and Always

Was it really love if it didn't include just a little madness? What was love if it didn't cross the line? And how was it love if it wasn't regardless of anything and longer than always?

Hong Jisoo - Calendar Killer

Was it really love if it didn't include just a little madness? What was love if it didn't cross the line? And how was it love if it didn't care whether it was the red of love and the red of blood?

Scenarios

Where you belong (3k) One who showed everyone who you belonged to, one who showed you that you couldn't possibly belong to anyone else. Fiancé! Seungcheol × reader, Fiancé! Jeonghan x reader

Where you return (7k) One who you fell in love with, one who fell in love with you. Fuckbuddy! Mingyu x reader, Fuckbuddy! Wonwoo x reader

Where you're convenient One who you married because of a mutual deal, one who you married because of an accident and one who you married because of a promise. Husband! Jisoo × reader pt 1 (6.5k) Husband! Seokmin × reader pt 2 (11k) Husband! Jihoon x reader pt 3 (coming soon)

Imagines

Christmas with Seventeen Seventeen and their little ways of celebrating Christmas with you!

612 notes · View notes

undersugarnights · 6 months ago

Text

Something for the Pain

✦ MDNI — 18+ Only ✦

✧ pairing: luke hemmings x reader

✧ summary: a splitting headache has you looking for something, anything, to stop the pain. luckily for you, luke is always willing to help.

✧ warnings: oral (f receiving), dirty talk, subby luke, mommy kink, desperate and needy luke, happy ending massage (?)

✧ word count: 5.4k

✧ title: starting line — by Luke Hemmings

✧ author’s note: happy new year pookies! i honestly can’t begin to describe how thankful i am for all of the support my writing has received since i started posting on here. hopefully i can get more blurbs out— and soon, that calum fic. anyway, this was a request, but i took some liberties since i wasn’t super excited to write period sex (don’t think i ever will ngl) but i still hope u enjoy!! as always, thank u for reading and to my two friends who helped me come up w the plot for this. you know who you are

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Every breath you took, every blink, sent a fresh wave of pain ricocheting through your skull. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it started. Maybe it was during the final descent, the plane’s cabin pressure clawing at your temples. Or maybe it was the hours leading up to it—the sleepless night, the lack of water, or the mounting exhaustion of the journey.

By the time you stepped off the plane with your friends, the faint pulse of a headache had already begun to bloom behind your eyes. But what started as a dull ache soon unraveled into an all-encompassing, throbbing migraine.

Now, you sat slumped in the bed of your hotel room, blinds drawn tight against the snowy glare outside. Your eyes remained shut as you wrestled with the unrelenting pain, trying to block out the world beyond the pounding in your head.

It was Calum’s birthday trip. This whole escapade had been meticulously planned by an overly eager Ashton and Luke, who’d insisted on the novelty of a winter getaway. You and Michael had been swept along in their enthusiasm, though neither of you had much interest in winter sports.

“Ashton thinks Calum needs a change,” Luke had reasoned during the endless group chat debates. “He’s always had summer birthdays. Let’s give him a proper winter wonderland for once.”

It wasn’t exactly a bad idea—on paper, at least. But the journey to the hotel had been its own kind of trial. Fans swarmed the boys at the terminal, their excitement only amplified by the festive mood. Luke and Ashton handled the crowd with ease, chatting and signing autographs, while Michael managed a few tired smiles. You, however, could barely keep your grimace at bay as each flash of a camera sent fresh jolts of pain behind your eyes.

You worried that your mood might be misinterpreted. The last thing you needed was people twisting your obvious discomfort into something malicious, another rumor or misstep in the public eye. But for now, none of that mattered. All you wanted was a moment of quiet to try and claw your way back to some ounce of normalcy.

You fell back on your bed, forcing your mind to think of ways to ease the pain. You had already tried some ibuprofen, but your mind failed to come up with more alternatives.

Luke had noticed something was wrong, he always noticed when something was wrong. His eyes would get all worried, glazed over with anxiety as he tried to figure out why you were in such a foul mood. He was always so attentive when it came to you, so sweet.

You met the band when they signed your shoegaze group to their record label. Although the deal didn’t last, the friendship that came out of it certainly did. You played bass—a fact that, for some reason, seemed to strike a chord with Luke from the start.

What followed was an unusual friendship. Luke gravitated toward you in a way that was hard to ignore, and you were more than sure he had a crush on you. Subtlety was never his strong suit, after all.

It started small—just little frowns tugging at his pink lips whenever someone mentioned another guy’s name or the lingering glances he’d send your way. But slowly, it escalated. The frowns turned into sharp quips about their character, jokes veiled as casual observations about how no one seemed good enough for you.

Then came the parade of girls—each one with the same eye color, the same hair, the same biting wit. They never stayed long, thankfully. Still, it felt ridiculous to think Luke Hemmings, of all people, might actually want you—a shy bassist in a band still struggling to take off. And yet, the thought burrowed into your mind like an itch you couldn’t scratch, always there, always nagging.

When it was just the two of you, it was different. Luke seemed mesmerized by you, his eyes tracing the movements of your fingers over your bass strings, hanging onto your words like they were rare treasures. It was flattering. It was terrifying.

He’d tried to follow you to your room earlier offering to keep you company. But the thought of him seeing you so raw, so vulnerable, was unbearable. You forced a fake smile, brushed aside the dull ache in your chest, and politely declined.

It wasn’t ideal, not by any stretch. You craved company—craved him—but the weight of your misery felt too heavy to share.

So, you decided to lie down, all the blinds drawn shut, and hope—pray—for the ibuprofen to finally kick in. Sooner or later, you were certain, the pain would ease. In the meantime, you busied yourself by mentally planning your outfit for the birthday dinner you still hoped to attend.

You weren’t exactly sure how much time had passed since you first collapsed onto the hotel bed, but the knock at the door shattered the fragile quiet. Squeezing your eyes shut, you willed yourself to ignore it, hoping whoever it was would go away.

But the knock came again, louder this time, insistent.

Your eyes snapped open, staring at the darkened ceiling as another knock echoed through the room. “Y/N?” Luke’s voice cut through the quiet, sharp and clear, sending a fresh wave of pain ricocheting through your skull. Wincing, you pushed yourself upright in bed.

“What do you want?” you called out, not bothering to mask the irritation in your tone. Luke was a puppy—probably the kindest, most caring person you’d ever met. Even if your annoyance slipped through now, he’d likely shrug it off, understanding the circumstances later.

But instead of his usual easy response, silence followed. A beat passed, long enough for a twinge of guilt to creep in. Regret began clouding your thoughts as you replayed what you’d said, wondering if you’d gone too far.

“Are you okay?” Luke’s voice finally broke the stillness, softer now, almost cautious. You could picture him perfectly: standing just outside the door, biting the corner of his lip where a lip ring once sat, waiting in tentative silence.

With a defeated sigh, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and padded softly to the door. Cracking it open with caution, you winced as the bright hallway light pierced through the darkness of the room, intensifying the ache in your head.

Luke’s eyebrows shot up the moment he saw your expression, concern etched into his features. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes darting across your face, searching for any clues that might explain your obvious discomfort.

You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the doorframe. “I have a headache from hell,” you muttered, rubbing at one eye with your knuckle.

“Damn,” Luke murmured, his voice low with sympathy. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

Pushing off the doorframe, you shuffled back to the bed and collapsed face-first onto the mattress. The sudden movement made the throbbing in your skull even worse. You heard Luke’s footsteps draw closer, then felt the bed dip as he laid down beside you.

Slowly, you turned your head to look at him. His wide blue eyes were full of concern, his blonde curls falling messily against the bedspread. Up close, you could see the faint stubble dusting his jaw and cheeks, and your fingers itched with the impulse to reach out feel it beneath your fingertips.

“Since we got to the airport,” you admitted. “It’s been getting worse all day. By the time we got here, I was barely able to stand.”

Luke let out a quiet huff through his nose, his fingers tapping absentmindedly on the mattress. “What about tonight?” he asked gently. “Do you think you’ll be able to make it?”

You let out a bitter laugh, immediately regretting it as another sharp ripple of pain shot through your skull. “Thank God Calum’s birthday isn’t today, because at this point, I don’t even know if I’d make it.”

Luke’s lips twisted into a concerned frown. “Have you tried anything to make it go away?”

“Luke, do you really think I’m choosing to suffer like this?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “I took some ibuprofen earlier, but it didn’t help much. I’ve been wracking my brain for home remedies, but nothing’s working.”

Luke hummed thoughtfully. “I heard drinking water can help,” he suggested, a hint of optimism in his tone. “Or maybe a massage? I think I even read somewhere that eating almonds helps.”

You let out an irritated breath and shifted onto your side, pillowing your head on your arm. For a brief moment, you thought you caught Luke’s eyes flick down to your chest, slightly more on display from your position, but the glance was so quick you couldn’t be certain.

“I’ve been drinking water,” you mumbled dejectedly. “Hate almonds. But a massage sounds… nice. Don’t really feel like hunting down spa services, though.”

Luke was quiet for a moment, staring down at the mattress. He shifted slightly before mumbling something, his voice too low for you to catch.

You raised an eyebrow. “Lu, I can’t hear a word you’re saying.”

He let out a loud huff and repeated himself, this time louder but still hesitant. “I said… I could give you the massage.” His voice wavered slightly, and he avoided meeting your gaze.

His offer caught you off guard. For a few beats, you just stared at him, unsure if he was serious. But with your head pounding relentlessly, you couldn’t see any reason to refuse. “Alright,” you finally said, clearing your throat. “There’s lotion in my carry-on bag. Go grab it.”

Luke’s eyes widened a fraction, but he nodded quickly and scrambled off the bed in a flurry of gangly limbs. He switched on the lamp by the bedside table—thankfully not too bright—and rummaged through your bag with fumbling hands. After a few failed attempts, he finally pulled out the bottle of lotion. “Got it!” he announced, a triumphant grin tugging at his lips.

“Good.” You sat up in the bed and shot him a pointed look. “Now turn around.”

Luke blinked, his grin faltering. “Why?”

You motioned toward the lotion in his hand. “Because I’m taking my shirt off?”

His cheeks flushed a vivid pink, and his mouth fell open slightly in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me,” you said, raising an eyebrow as you caught the sudden flustered state Luke had taken on. “Did you really think a massage would work if I kept my shirt on?”

Luke swallowed hard, shaking his head. “N-no,” he stammered. “I guess not.” His hand shot up to scratch the back of his neck, the flush spreading from his cheeks to his ears.

“Good,” you replied with a small, teasing smile, rolling your eyes. “Unless that’s an issue for you?”

His eyes widened as if you’d accused him of something. “No!” he blurted, then winced at how loud he sounded. “I mean… no, it’s not a problem.”

You bit back a laugh, too entertained by how flustered he was, and motioned for him to turn around. With a sheepish nod, Luke spun on his heel, facing the wall. Once he was out of sight, you pulled the hem of your shirt up and over your head before lying back down on your stomach.

“Alright,” you called softly, glancing over your shoulder. “Come on.”

Luke turned back around hesitantly, his gaze flickering between your face and the bed as he stepped closer. His cheeks were still rosy, but he managed to set the lotion bottle down on the nightstand without fumbling.

“Where should I start?” he asked, his voice quieter now. His eyes lingered for a moment on the strap of your bra before darting away, and you appreciated the fact that he seemed to be making an effort to remain respectful.

You shrugged slightly, resting your head on your arms. “You’re the one who suggested this, remember? Maybe my shoulders? Anywhere that might distract me from the headache.”

Luke nodded, though you could see the tension in his jaw as he picked up the lotion and squirted some into his hands. You closed your eyes, feeling the shift of the bed as he knelt beside you.

When his fingers finally touched your skin, they were tentative, almost featherlight. You suppressed a shiver at the warmth of his hands but couldn’t help the small hum of appreciation that escaped your lips.

“You can press harder,” you murmured, opening one eye to glance back at him.

Luke met your gaze, and the sight of him made your breath hitch. His cheeks were still flushed, his mouth slightly parted, and his baby-blue eyes had taken on a darker, more intense hue. “Okay,” he said softly, his voice nearly a whisper, as his fingers pressed more firmly into the muscles of your back.

You sighed blissfully, letting your eyes drift closed. He worked with surprising skill, easing the tension in your shoulders with slow, deliberate movements. But then his fingers brushed against the strap of your bra, and you heard him suck in a sharp breath.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice shaky. “I— I’m sorry, but—”

You turned your head slightly, meeting his uncertain gaze. “What’s wrong?”

Luke bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes flickering between your back and the mattress. “Your bra,” he mumbled, barely audible. “It’s kinda… in the way.”

You raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smirk at his hesitation. “So take it off,” you said simply, your voice soft yet firm.

Luke let out a small, choked sound, his ears turning crimson. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Luke,” you assured him, turning your head away again to give him permission.

You felt his hands tremble slightly as he reached for the clasp, carefully undoing it with a soft click. There was a strange, charged silence as he worked, as if both of you were hyperaware of the situation.

Awkwardly, you shimmied the straps off and tugged the bra free without exposing yourself, tossing it aside. The cool air against your skin made you shiver slightly, but Luke’s hands returned quickly, steady and warm.

“Better?” you asked quietly, your voice softer than before.

“Yea—yeah,” Luke murmured, pressing harder on your back.

The ache in your head was still there, but it had faded enough to be manageable. Luke's breathing had grown heavier, and his hands lingered a little longer as they moved over your skin. You could feel the press of his knee against your hip, and though you couldn't see him, you could picture the concentrated look on his face—the flush still painting his cheeks, the way his lips parted as he breathed.

A warmth began to build inside you, unexpected and entirely uninvited. It was startling to feel this way with a headache still dulling your senses, but given the circumstances—being half-naked with Luke's hands roaming your back—it wasn't entirely shocking.

That's when you remembered a little fun fact about orgasms relieving pain. A ridiculous idea briefly bloomed in your mind before you immediately shot it down. You focused instead on clinging to your composure, determined to let Luke finish the massage without letting your thoughts spiral any further.

But then he pressed on a particularly tense spot near your shoulder blade, and a soft moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

Luke's hands stilled on your back instantly, his breathing audibly heavier. The air in the room seemed to shift, tension crackling in the silence.

Neither of you spoke, and just as you started to second-guess your reaction, Luke's hands began to move again. His touch was slower now, more deliberate, and the curiosity bubbling inside you became harder to ignore.

Deciding to test the waters, “Luke,” you let out a soft sigh with his name. “That feels good.”

His hands froze again, and you heard him exhale shakily. “Yeah?” he asked, his tone raw and breathless.

His fingers resumed their movements, but this time they dipped lower, brushing just above the waistband of your sweatpants.

“Mhm,” you hummed, letting your eyes flutter shut, fully aware of the effect you were having on him.

His hands hovered over the small of your back, and his touch grew more needy by the second. He seemed almost desperate, pressing down on the spots that had made you let out soft contented sighs as if he were searching for more.

Every time you gave in, let out little moans accompanied by his name, you could feel him begin to work harder— desperately doing anything to hear you sigh his name. It was undeniable now, the heat that pooled in your lower stomach as he continued.

“Lu,” you said softly. “I was thinking.”

Luke’s hands didn’t falter, nimble fingers working out the knots in your muscles. “About what?” his voice was strained with what you hoped was desire, tinged by the heavy breathing.

“Orgasms are known to be a pain reliever,” you turned back to face him, not missing the way his eyes widened. He was still blushing, and when your eyes took in the rest of him, you didn’t fail to notice the way he strained against his pants.

He didn’t reply, but you didn’t need him to. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” You asked breathlessly, biting your lip as you let your eyes linger on the tent in his own sweatpants.

Luke’s eyes followed your gaze, and he yanked his hands back to cover himself. “Y/N, oh my God, I am so sorry—“

Your throat went dry, watching as Luke scrambled to get away from you. You slid up from your position on your stomach, sitting on your knees as you reached for Luke’s hand. His eyes immediately flickered down to your exposed chest, and you gripped his wrist.

“Were you thinking about it, Luke?” You asked softly, looking up at him through half lidded eyes. “Were you thinking about touching me… making me come? Did all my little noises help your fantasies baby?”

Luke swallowed thickly, his gaze darting away before meeting yours again. “Fuck.”

You scooted closer to the edge of the bed, taking his hand. “When I took off my bra, I knew you got worked up. You wanted to see me, hmm?”

The way Luke’s eyes had glazed over was intoxicating, his eyebrows furrowing into an almost pained look as he nodded slowly. You took this as a sign to continue. “You wanted to touch me?”

Luke nodded.

“Say it baby,” you whispered.

Swallowing thickly, he nodded rapidly. “Fuck— yeah,” his breath hitched as you slowly moved his hand closer to your chest. Your heart beat rapidly as you met Luke’s gaze.

“Show me how you wanted to touch me,” you instructed, letting go of his wrist. His hand hovered over your breast, and Luke licked his lips before tentatively touching your skin. The second his fingers brushed against your soft flesh, he let out a strained moan, squeezing slightly, his fingers grazing over your nipple.

Your head fell back, a soft moan slipping from your lips as you guided Luke's other hand to your chest. His wide, blue eyes were heavy with desire as he gasped, “Fuck, Y/N, you're so hot.” His voice was laced with need. “Can I-?”

You nodded, and he didn't hesitate. Leaning down, he wrapped his lips around your hardened nipple, his groan muffled against your skin. The sensation sent a shiver through you, and you moaned his name as his tongue swirled expertly, teasing and soft.

Slowly, he lowered you onto the bed, his mouth switching to your other nipple while his fingers pinched and rolled the one he'd just left, making your back arch.

“You wanna help with my headache?” you teased, your voice breaking into soft moans.

Luke let out another muffled groan, his mouth never leaving your chest. “Make me come,” you added with a smirk, tugging gently at his curls.

That was all it took. A low, desperate sound left him as he pushed you back down onto the mattress, his large hands trembling as they roamed over your body with unrestrained hunger. “Please let me taste you,” he whimpered, his voice breaking into your collarbone as he kissed and sucked at the delicate skin, leaving marks with each pass of his mouth.

You gazed down at him, tugging harder on his curls and making him whimper against you. “Make this headache go away, baby boy,” you whispered, your words electrifying him. His reaction was instant—he slid your sweatpants down your legs with feverish urgency.

“I'm gonna make you feel so good,” he murmured, almost incoherently, his breath hot against your skin. “Fuck, I'll make that headache go away, I swear.”

You watched, breathless, as he tugged your underwear down, leaving you completely exposed beneath him. His gaze was heavy with devotion and lust, and you let your head fall back against the pillow, commanding softly, “tease me a little.”

Luke whimpered at your words, his desperation palpable as he leaned down, dragging his tongue in a long, deliberate stripe along the inside of your thigh. The warmth of his mouth left goosebumps in its wake, your body trembling under his touch. When you looked down, his eyes were nearly black, pupils blown wide, glazed with arousal.

“Now kiss your way there,” you said, your voice a sultry encouragement that had him obeying immediately. His lips trailed reverent kisses across your folds and inner thighs, his breath fanning hotly against your skin. You could feel his restraint faltering, his need undeniable.

“Please,” he begged, looking up at you, his features twisted in desperation. “Please let me taste you. I-I need to.”

Your breath caught when you noticed one of his hands had drifted between his legs, palming himself through his sweats as he begged for permission. The sight made your stomach tighten with want. Without a word, you grabbed a fistful of his hair and guided his mouth to the aching heat between your legs.

Luke's lips wrapped around your clit, and the sensation was immediate and overwhelming. You let out a sharp moan, your back arching off the bed as his tongue worked against you with fervor. His muffled groans vibrated against your sensitive skin, and his eyes fluttered shut, as though he was savoring every second of having you like this.

You could hear Luke groaning against you, low and desperate as you writhed beneath him. His sounds were mainly muffled by your body, his tongue working on you eagerly and leaving you breathless. He gripped your tights, keeping them open for him as he worked.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” youcooed, your voice trembling as a moan escaped your lips. The praise spurred him on, his licks growing faster and more desperate. His shoulders shook with effort, and you could tell his hands weren't just idle —he was touching himself, his movements frantic, his muffled moans vibrating against you.

Luke's eyes fluttered open, locking with yours. His pupils were blown wide with lust, and the sight of his flushed face, lips slick and busy against you, made your breath hitch. He never broke contact, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking gently, the sensation so intense it sent tremors through your legs. His blush deepened, his hand moving even faster, completely lost in his desire to please you.

The sight of him like this—Luke, who always carried himself like he was larger than life, now utterly undone before you—sent a jolt of power and pleasure through you. His need, his complete surrender, was intoxicating. He whimpered against you, his hand wrapped around his cock as he devoured you, and it was a vision you never dared to let yourself dream of before.

Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging just enough to guide his movements. He let out a needy whine at the pull, his eyes fluttering closed as if your touch alone was enough to send him over the edge. His name fell from your lips in a breathless gasp as your back arched. ”That's it, baby,” you encouraged, your voice heavy with pleasure. “You're making me feel so good.”

Luke whimpered again, the sound shaky and desperate, his hips rocking against the bed as though he couldn't help himself. “You taste so good,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible, muffled against you. “I can't—I need—“ His words dissolved into a whine as his tongue moved faster, his hand gripping your thighs as though he were afraid you might pull away.

You watched as Luke's other hand-—the one wrapped around himself-began moving faster, the desperation evident in every stroke. Your grip on his hair tightened, and you bit your lip as a low whine escaped your throat. Leaning back on one elbow, you adjusted to get a better view of him falling apart beneath you.

His free hand slid up to your chest, kneading the sensitive flesh feverishly as if he couldn't get enough of you. “Oh, fuck,” Luke moaned against you, his voice trembling with need.

“Y/N, fuck, l'm gonna—” His movements faltered momentarily, and then his entire body tensed. A long, muffled whine spilled from his lips as he buried his face between your legs, taking your clit into his mouth as though it were the only thing grounding him. You moaned, the sound mixing with his as you watched his eyes flutter shut, his body shivering under the intensity of his release.

Heat coiled deep in your belly at the sight of him—at the realization that he had been so consumed by pleasuring you that he couldn't even hold back. He had touched himself to the sheer thought of making you feel good, and that fact alone sent a thrill through you.

“Look at you,” you purred, your tone drenched in satisfaction. “Such a good boy for me, making a mess for mommy.”

The word hung in the air, heavy and electrifying. For a moment, Luke froze, his breath catching audibly in his throat. Then, with a deep, shuddering exhale, a broken whimper escaped his lips, his cheeks burning crimson as the flush spread down his neck. His body trembled, every muscle taut, as though the word had unraveled him entirely.

“Gonna make a mess out of you, mommy,” he whined, his lips latching on to your clit again. He worked tirelessly, licking and sucking at your skin. Your body vibrated with pleasure as you arched your back, letting out a crescendo of whimpers.

“You're doing so good, Lu,” you moaned, grinding your hips up against his mouth, desperate for more friction. Luke, catching on to your need, slid his hands up your thighs, steadying you before he slowly slipped a finger inside.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped, the words spilling out before you could stop them. The stretch sent a shiver through your body, your legs trembling as your eyes fluttered shut. He curled his finger just right, hitting that perfect spot, the motion perfectly timed with the flicks of his tongue against your clit. The combination made your head spin, stars dancing behind your eyelids.

Luke seemed completely lost in you, his own eyes shut tight, savoring every sound and movement you made. His tongue worked you with precision, his devotion clear in every flick and stroke.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, and he let out a muffled groan against you. The vibration sent a new wave of pleasure through your body, making your back arch. “Just like that, baby,” you whispered, voice shaking. “Don't stop.”

“Never,” he groaned. “I wanna make you come, mommy.” His pace quickened, his finger curling in deeper as he added another one, making your entire body tense.

“Fuck, Luke,” you whimpered, tightening your grip in his hair as your hips continued to buck against him. Each time they did, he let out a small whimper. His tongue never faltered, though, swirling and flicking over your clit in ways that made your eyes shut tightly.

His free hand roamed your body, kneading at your hips and ass, exploring the length of your stomach and reaching up to your chest. When his fingers closed around your nipple, you couldn’t help but cry out.

Luke’s movements were desperate and needy, as if he were worshipping every inch of you. God— the sound she made. Each of his whimpers, the broken moans, the soft sound of his lips as they sucked at your clit or the flicks of his tongue, all drive you closer to the edge.

“Look at you,” you managed to get out, forcing your eyes open to meet Luke’s. “You’re such a good boy for me, such a good little toy for mommy.”

Luke’s eyelashes fluttered as he looked up at you, the look of his blissed out face almost sending you over the edge completely. He had beautiful lips, that was just a fact, but you didn’t know how much you’d enjoy the sight of them working on you— glistening with both you and his spit.

“You’re so good at this,” you praised, the tremor in your voice only proving your point. “Such a good boy, always making me feel so fucking good.”

His moan vibrated through you, and you felt him press harder against your core. His fingers picked up speed, creating a delicious friction that made the coil in your belly tighten, your breathing growing erratic.

“Oh baby, I’m so close,” you gasped, your own hand coming to play with your chest in an effort to facilitate your release. Your tights were trembling against his head, and he groaned in response. His tongue worked tirelessly, his fingers curling in just the right way. “Please don’t stop, don’t you dare stop.”

You watched as Luke shook his head slightly, a muffled, “I won’t,” escaping his lips as he latched on to your clit yet again. This time, he sent you over the edge.

Your back arched with the force of your release, your legs shaking violently as a loud moan ripped from your throat. Your thighs clamped around Luke’s head, keeping him in place as you rode out your high. His hands held you firmly, savoring every bit of your release on his tongue.

As your breathing steadied and your body relaxed, Luke pressed a tender kiss to the inside of your thigh, his gaze shy as he looked up at you. “Did I do okay?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “Is your headache gone?”

“Fuck,” you said, letting out a breathless laugh, tugging him up by his curls until his lips met yours. The kiss was messy and heated, and you could taste yourself on him as your fingers tightened in his hair. Luke let out a quiet groan, kissing you back feverishly, his hands sliding to your waist to pull you closer.

“Headache's gone,” you murmured against his lips, brushing a stray curl from his face. His cheeks were flushed, his gaze wide and filled with awe as he looked at you. “You did so well for me, baby. I'm proud of you.”

His lips curled into a bashful smile, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, peppering kisses along your skin. “I've had a crush on you for the longest time,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

A soft hum escaped you as your hands ran soothingly over his back. “I know,” you said simply, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his brows lifting in surprise. “You knew?”

You nodded, letting your palm rest against his cheek. “Of course, I did,” you replied gently. “How could I not? I can’t say I don’t feel the same way, especially when you're so eager to please and look the way you do. But it's more than that, Luke. It's you—just you.”

The blush that spread across his face was endearing, painting his cheeks and the tips of his ears a deep pink. He bit his lip and let out a soft, nervous giggle, his eyes briefly darting away before coming back to yours.

Your gaze shifted downward, and the sight of him still painfully hard stirred a pang of sympathy-and desire-in you. Leaning closer, you brushed your lips against his ear, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Tell you what,” you murmured, trailing your fingers lightly down his chest. “You were such a good boy for me, Luke. When we come back later, how about we take care of that little problem you've got between your legs? What do you say, baby?”

His breath hitched, and he let out a small, needy whimper, nodding eagerly. “Y—Yes, please,” he stammered, his voice trembling with anticipation.

You smiled, kissing him again. “Good.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

hope u enjoyed 😁🫶 might make a pt 2 to this using another request but idk

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starlightguh · 7 months ago

Text

Mermaid Hotel

Word Count: 2,198

Summary: When Thomas decides to stick you and Rafayel in a cheesy themed mermaid suite, he thinks he’s getting revenge on Rafayel. Little did he know the room came with a water bed, and Rafayel is very good at controlling the tides.

Tags: Smut, water bed sex, NSFW, porn with very little plot

A/N: Sooo, this might not be my best work but I needed some practice to get over my writers block, so bam. Water bed sex. Read at your own risk, but MDNI! Enjoy all you Raf girlyss~

Rafayel had invited me on an impromptu trip to his latest art gallery. He was very insistent on it since he claimed the city where the gala was being held had the most beautiful beaches. I needed a break from the insane influx of wanderers, so I agreed. It would take us two days to get to the city we needed to be in since we had a late layover flight.

Thomas was usually in charge of all of Rafayel’s travel plans, I guess he was frantic when Raf demanded last minute that I be added as a plus one. I feel bad for Thomas sometimes, since Rafayel can be very demanding, but I know the bickering between the two in a way, feels almost familial. Though, little did we anticipate, Thomas had a small version of revenge up his sleeve.

Me and Rafayel were a bit exhausted from our long flight and were sluggish in the hotel lobby. However, as soon as we reached our room, we were jolted with surprise.

The neon moodlighting reflected off the clear plastic of fake bubbles along the walls, there were fishnets and various aquatic themed posters also on the walls. It was a mermaid themed room.

“Now this is just offensive,” Rafayel’s face contourted in disgust at the kitsch decor of the room.

I felt a burst of laughter erupt from my chest at this ordeal, “I guess this is what you get for giving Thomas gray hairs.” I set my bags down and began to take a look at all the cute mermaid and fish themed nicknacks that had adorned the dresser below the tv.

With a drained sigh he walks over to the bed that has a giant seashell headboard, he stares at it and reaches out to poke it, “A water bed really? That’s so outdated.” Rafayel rolls his eyes and scoffs at the bed as if it personally offended him.

I turn with wide eyes, “Really? I’ve never slept on a water bed before.”

Rafayel chuckles, “It’s not exactly practical cutie.” He then pauses briefly as his eyes catch something on the dresser.

I quirk my head at his sudden peak of interest as he walks over and grabs an iridescent blue vase, it almost looks like an antique perfume bottle. Rafayel inspects it by trying to swish it around and determine if there’s liquid inside.

“What is it?” I ask.

“It couldn’t possibly be what I think it is, there’s no way a cheap hotel like this would have Lumerian scents…” He popped the topper off the vase and inhaled. Suddenly, it was like a switch had been flipped.

Rafayel immediately started panting and groaning.

“Raf? Are you okay?” I touched his shoulder to check on him and he tried to push me off with a slight hiss.

“This is…” he gasped as one of his hands clasped at the front of his shirt, “It’s…Lumerian…It’s a pheromone…One a bride would typically use on her wedding.”

He seemed in agony as he closed the vase and fell to his knees on the floor. His purple-pinkish eyes nearly looked black as he looked up at me with nothing but desperation painted across his face as he whimpered my name.

“Help….I…I can't, I need you right now….” He gasped and raised his torso to hug my legs and nuzzle into them with desperation.

I was at a loss of words at this sudden shift, but with the tight grip he had on the back of my thigh and the look in his eye, I let out a shaky breath and nodded, “I’m not sure what happened to you, but whatever you need. I’m yours…”

As soon as the words left my mouth, Rafayel stood and lifted me by my hips as he threw my back against the bed. As I fell back, the plop of water sloshing resounded in my ear as the next thing I knew Rafayel’s lips were on my neck as his hands lifted up my legs.

“Raf-“ I gasped at his boldness, his actions were hurried and desperate as he tried to hold on to my body desperately as if I would drift off like the waves of the water beneath us.

“Shhh, I need this right now or I’ll go crazy…Let me take care of you my beloved bride,” he groans as he slides off my leggings and panties all at once.

He lets out a shaky breath at my exposed form and I start to feel dizzy as Rafayel then begins to drool on my bare sex and licks his lips as he brings his face down to give an experimental lick. I arch my body up and close my thighs around his head, trapping his face to my hole.

He doesn’t move as he just sensually licks and sucks at me like he’s savoring his favorite ice cream. My moans are drowned out in my own ears as I can hear nothing but the water in the bed slosh around. It felt like I had laid back in the bathtub and could hear only sounds of water moving with my body, except, unlike the bathtub, the only thing wet was the mixture of slick and saliva as Rafayel ate me out.

My thighs gripped his face harder as he purposely sucked my sensitive bud, “C-Close…I’m close,” I gasped.

I received nothing but a happy humm in response, the vibrations of his voice sending me over the edge as I moaned with fervor at my release.

“Rafa….” I gapped as I opened my thighs to release his face. He pulled back and stared at me with those dark eyes as he undid his belt. His cheeks and ears were a bit tinged in a blush as his purple fluffy hair was now disheveled and his lower lips covered in my essence.

Never breaking eye contact, he ripped his high waisted black pants down and his usual low cut white shirt was gone in an instant as he crawled on top of my body. The motion of him climbing on top of me caused the water to propel me even closer to him as my bare cunt brushed against his still covered lower half.

As I could feel his hard length against me, I was taken aback as he laughed deeply in my ear. The reveberations of his laughter caused the waterbed to shake abit and I was moving up and down like I was floating in a lazy river. “What’s so funny?” I asked as he looked down at me with a bright and cheeky smirk, his usual teasing pink coloring returning to his eyes.

“You should see how you look right now, like a birdy drowning in the sea with how much you keep moving back and forth.”

“Well, I’m being swallowed by the motion of the water, what else am I supposed to do? How are you so composed on this thing?”

He sat up as he began to take off his boxers, a confident and arrogant expression painting his face, “Me and the waters are one and the same,” after he finished undressing and I can see his dripping length standing straight as he comes closer to whisper in my ear once more, “We’re both unpredictable and all encompassing.”

With that his hands slide down my torso to then lift up my shirt and push it over my head, his mouth meeting the pebbles of my now erect nipples. I let out a small moan at the sensation and desperation of his suckling mouth on my chest.

With a pop his mouth leaves my nipple as he laughs while moving his hips to make the water shake me, I’m at a loss as the waves make my body move sporadically. I try and sit up to have a similar vantage as Rafayel, but he meets my lips in a passionate kiss as I lay flat against my back.

“Are you ready for me my bride?” His voice is almost unfamiliar as its deep purr resounds into my very core and I shiver.

I let out a shaky yes and suddenly I gasp as he slams a knee into the bed and suddenly the motion of my body slides to connect him and me in one swift motion. “N-no fair! That was sneaky!”

“Shhh, you know you love it cutie,” he laughs as both of his hands grip the sides of my hips. Rafayel’s lips trail into the crook of my neck as his hips send crashing waves into the bed as he thrusts in and out of me with a smooth rhythm.

“I must say, this is actually fulfilling some fantasies of mine.”

I whine as he hits a sensitive spot within me and bites down on my neck, “Raf-Please.” I feel breathless as my body is floating in pleasure with every crash of our hips. The water surrounding us in this cheap mattress make me feel as if I’m drowning in an endless ocean of pleasure. I was drowning in Rafayel’s very being, and I never wanted to come up for air.

“Please,” he mocks me in a deep voice, “I should make you beg more for the way you’re driving me wild.” He removes his face from my neck and meets my lips to force them to open for him. With a moan he sucks on my tongue and his hips speed up.

The wetness of our bodies and groans of exctasy mix with the sounds of splashing waves of the bed below us. My nails find their way to Rafayels back and I drag them down as I feel my crescendo reaching.

I pull away from his lips and lean my back and yell out his name. “Rafayel!”

He lets out a shaky breath as he continues at a relentless pace, “Not yet, just a bit more cutie.” Rafayel grunts as he presses me deeper into the sinking bed. I clench around him unable to control my own bodily reactions.

“I can’t! Rafayel please,” I can feel tears welling in the corner of my eyes from trying my best to hold off my orgasm, but finally as his hips slam even deeper within me, I lose myself.

“Come for me, my beloved bride,” he pants as he keeps the same rhythm.

I feel weightless as my legs shake from intense pleasure and the rest of my body goes slack as Rafayel keeps chasing his high. I lightly drag my fingers up from the scratched I made on his back to reach up into the hair at the nape of his neck.

I dig my fingers in a bit gently and pull as my eyes meet his intense purple gaze, “Let go Rafayel…”

His face contorts into an almost melancholic pout as he scrunches his eyes closed and with a final thrust that resounds a smack throughout the cheesy themed room, I feel the warmth of his spend drip into me.

Rafayel pants and collapses ontop of me as he hums with pleasure in his voice as his body is still painting my insides.

“Well that certainly is one for the books for me,” my voice is a bit gravelly and hoarse as I laugh at the absurdity of our situation.

“I actually think I might have to thank Thomas instead of yelling at him,” Rafayel grumbles into my chest.

“And here I thought you didn’t like water beds,” I started to run my hands through his hair as I teased him.

“You know I think I might buy a couple for my studio now,” he props his chin up on my chest and looks at me with a cheeky smirk, “Only if you test them out with me.”

“While this was fun, I don’t know how fun sleeping on this will actually be.”

He reached a hand out to touch my cheek, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on them, “Who said anything about sleeping?”

After a few spent moments of us basking in the after glow, we got up and cleaned ourselves off to actually get some needed sleep. As I glanced back at that blue bottle on the counter, I couldn’t help my curiosity.

“Rafayel, what is that pheromone that made you crazy? You said something about Lumeria, right?”

He crosses his arm and stares at me with a pout, “Well, I’m not sure you need to know what it is, just know that I’ll be taking that stuff with me to use at a further date. So prepare yourself miss bodyguard, because next time you won’t walk away so easily from me.”

“Is that a threat?” I laugh as he lays down next to me and captures me in his arms. He once again manipulates the unease of the waters below us to push my body as close as possible to his.

“Oh cutie, it’s a promise.” He kisses the crown of my head as the waves and the warmth of his arms help me drift off to a peaceful slumber.

That night I dream of a life underseas and a purpled haired merman worshiping my body with the waves surrounding us.

~fin~

#love and deepspace #lads fanfic #lads smut #lads x reader #lads rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #lads rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader

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myownwholewildworld · 11 months ago

Text

wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 5

chapter 4 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 6

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)

summary: after what happened a couple of months ago, you are ready to move forward. joel? not so much. he might need a little... prodding.

warnings: 18+, mdni. internal and verbal discussions of feelings, trauma and past relationships. some jealousy (if you squint very hard). porn with plot or plot with porn (however you wanna look at it). again, absolutely filthy smut because i don’t know any better (sorry not sorry). fluff. voyeurism (you spy on joel). masturbation (f and m). oral (f and m receiving). finger sucking. unprotected piv. praise kink. sir kink. size kink. cum eating. a bit of cum play. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. squirting. dirty talk. you are very needy in this one and joel is very possessive over you. soft!dom!joel. aftercare. pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, baby, honey). i'm sure i'm forgetting something lol. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n. joel’s and reader’s pov.

a/n: hiya! first i want to thank you all for the positive feedback this series has gotten! [: i started writing this for myself mainly, and decided to post it here thinking that if a couple of people liked it, it'd make my heart happy. also, i have taken some licenses with joel's past, as neither the game nor the tv show gives many details (you'll understand what i mean). anyways! after the last chapter, our two protagonists (you!) deserve a bit of calm, peace and quiet... right? 😈 as always, thank you all for engaging. i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! even asks/requests/side stories if you want to! take care lovelies <3 x

w/c: ~6.3k (sorry?).

tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981

August came around relatively quickly. Tommy had proposed you got closer to civilisation, which meant long trekking trips while the sunlight was still up. Joel agreed reluctantly, as he still thought that was dangerous. You just went along with it, letting them decide ― you didn’t really care where you ended up as long as the Millers were by your side.

Well, one of them especially.

At daytime you barely had time to yourself. However, the story was completely different at nighttime. The second you closed your eyes, snippets of what had happened two months ago flooded your memory. For the first few weeks, the nightmares were unbearable. You would wake up in the dead of night, sweaty and shaking.

And every time you woke up, Joel was by your side. He would hug you while you both laid on improvised beds, no matter how uncomfortable it was. Neither of you would talk, you would just cry in silence while your panic attack subsided ― Joel holding you throughout the whole episode. He had truly been a rock you could hold onto in the middle of a sea storm.

It got to the point where Tommy had started to realise that something was up between you two. Neither you nor Joel denied nor confirmed anything, although Tommy never asked. He would just look away when his brother would attend to you if you fell behind or would offer to do the first night shifts so Joel could be by your side at bedtime.

You were somewhat sure that Joel really cared about you. The way he would look at you… it sent shivers down your spine. The intensity in his eyes was hypnotising ― sometimes you would find yourself lost in his brown orbs, unable to look away. You also really cared about him.

You didn’t want to put a label to your feelings, mainly because you were not sure how Joel would react. You had come to understand that the man was prone to evade any topic about his feelings in general ― physical, emotional or otherwise. You could still not get him to tell you whenever he felt off. Since the blow to his head a couple of months back, Joel had been suffering with horrible headaches, to the point where he had fainted in a couple of instances.

The man was such a closed book you found out about his deceased wife the same way you knew about Sarah ― through Tommy. You assumed he had one or at least a partner at some point in time before the outbreak. The younger brother didn’t give you many details though, not that you asked either ― some wounds were better left untouched.

You liked Tommy a lot. He was a godsend ― so very different to Joel, but so similar in many ways. He was talkative and filled in long silences with stories about how they would cause mayhem at home when they were kids. You didn’t know if they were true or not, but they were entertaining nonetheless. You were under the impression that Tommy was the one who got into sticky situations and Joel was the one who had to fix them.

“I’m gonna go to the lake for a bit”, Joel told you, derailing your train of thought.

“No worries, I’ll get the fire going. Poor Tommy is always the one setting up camp”, you replied with a slight smile.

“Yeah, poor me, relegated to such unsignificant tasks”, said Tommy with a chuckle.

You smiled back and then looked in Joel’s direction. He was frowning at both of you, but quickly controlled his face expression.

“I’ll be back soon”, Joel crouched to look through his backpack, grabbing a couple of towels.

Something inside of you twisted. But you pushed the thought to the back of your head. You had already volunteered to start the fire.

You really tried to focus on the bonfire. And after a few attempts, you finally got it going. Joel had not come back yet from the lake ― it had only been ten minutes, but you were slightly worried in case he had lost consciousness again while no one was around.

“I’ll go check on him”, you told Tommy.

He looked at you with a sarcastic smile.

“Sure thing”, he replied while he started to skin a rabbit.

You rolled your eyes before you left in the direction Joel had gone.

You walked the hundred metres that separated the camp and the lake. The brothers had ensured the area was completely devoid of human existence before they decided to settle there for the night. You were now in Mark Twain National Forest, near St. Louis. You had checked out Kansas City a week ago, but both Tommy and Joel had deemed it too unsafe. So Chicago was your final destination. None of you knew what you would encounter there, but it was worth a try. The wilderness had not proven to be any safer.

Before you got to the bank of the lake, you spotted Joel in the water. He had his back towards you, your eager eyes checking out his broad shoulders, the water level up to his hips. He ran his fingers through his hair, slicking it back.

You stopped walking, somewhat mesmerised, your head slightly tilted to one side with curiosity. In the last two months, you had discovered a new side to Joel you didn’t know he had.

You guessed that what happened that night also affected him in a different way it did you. After he almost decapitated that man, you saw guilt in his eyes when he looked at you ― you still sometimes caught a glimpse of it to this day. As you found out later, that culpability was because he felt responsible for what those men did to you ― he really thought he could have done more. And he did in a sense, because for the next couple of days he hunted down every man in that group until there was no one left to hurt you. Apparently, that was not enough in his eyes, although it was in yours. But as much as you tried to explain that to him, it just wouldn’t sink in. He was so stubborn it made you go crazy sometimes.

Although Joel had been there for you emotionally, he had not touched you for the last two months. You managed to steal a few kisses from him and that was it. He had been extremely cautious with you in that respect. You were relieved he was as you tried to come to terms with what had happened, but after a few weeks it started to feel… frustrating. You were not broken and despite what he thought, you still had needs.

He suddenly looked over his right shoulder, offering you his side profile ― to you, he was gorgeous. Feeling like a child caught causing mischief, you quickly hid behind a tree. Joel looked around, eyebrows touching in confusion, but then he shook his head as if he was imagining things and proceeded to cup his hands in the water to wet his face.

You couldn’t not watch. You instantly realised that was the first time you saw him naked. The last ―and, regrettably, the only― time you two had sex, he was fully clothed. There was something very intimate about seeing him washing up.

You were so transfixed on the picture in front of you it was like the world had disappeared around you. Joel rubbed his skin with a hand towel ― his strong arms, his chest, his back, his lower stomach… Your breath quickened a bit, your heart picking up a pace. Everything about him invited you in ― it wasn’t only his rugged appearance that appealed to you, but also his character.

You started to feel hot. Had the temperature suddenly gone up? It seemed like it. Joel put the hand towel on his left shoulder. When you saw his right hand disappear below the water in front of him, your mouth went dry wishing it was your hand. You wanted to help him clean his manhood so badly ― memories of his delightful cock rocking you into a trance short-circuited your brain.

Before you could stop yourself, you placed one hand on your belly, biting your bottom lip. You finally gave in to temptation, pushing past the edge of your panties. You dipped two fingers in your slit, doing circular movements around your clit. Your eyes, albeit halfway closed in pleasure, could not leave Joel as he kept on freshening up. You pushed down your fingers a bit more, sliding one of them in your needy hole.

You closed your eyes, a half-smile showing on the corner of your lips. That felt so good. If Joel was going to do nothing about it ― fine, you would. Still behind the tree, out of sight, you held on to the bark with your free hand, upping the rhythm of your wet fingers, your thumb rubbing that tight knot in your fold. Then you slightly opened your eyes again ― you wanted to stare at Joel while you came.

But he wasn’t there anymore. You frowned, confused, but you were too busy to worry about that right now. So you closed your eyes again to fully focus on the task at hand. You leaned your forehead against the tree, feeling your orgasm wash over you with intensity. You pressed your lips, suppressing a moan as to not alert Joel of your presence.

“Am I interrupting?”, his soft voice forced you to glance in his direction with starry eyes.

He was on your righthand side, just half a metre away from you. Entirely naked in all his glory, an erection creeping up on him. You were speechless, partially because you had been caught spying on him and partially because you were still feeling the last remnants of your climax, your inner walls crying for something to choke.

“I―I…”, you really tried to excuse yourself, but your voice faltered when your eyes checked him out from top to bottom.

His body was chiselled, his muscles somewhat defined, especially around his waist. He had a pronounced V line with a hairy, happy trail which you avidly followed with your eyes until you were gifted with the sight of his veiny cock. You unconsciously licked your bottom lip.

Your fingers were still dunked in your warm pussy. Joel grabbed your wrist and took your hand out of your underwear, raising it to eye level. Your digits were sticky, covered in your own cum. You should feel ashamed, but you definitely didn’t. Not with him. Joel looked into your eyes, and, without breaking visual contact, he brought your slick fingers closer to his face. With no hesitation, he opened his mouth and pushed them into it, licking them clean. You felt your cunt gushing, eyelids half closed. You could have easily come again for him, but he released your fingers far too quickly for your liking.

“You naughty girl”, he whispered as he pulled you from the wrist to get you closer to his chest. “You taste even better than what I imagined”.

“I didn’t think you were…”

“Aware of your presence? Always, darlin’”, he finished for you.

Your cheeks burnt when he freed your wrist and lifted your chin up. His thumb caressed your bottom lip, his mouth just an inch away from yours. You bowed to kiss him, but he backed up a little, denying you.

“Are you sure you wanna do this, sweetheart?”, he asked, you could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

You nodded vehemently.

“Yes, please, Joel, I really need to feel you, to have you fuck me senseless”, you emphasized, short-breathed.

He seemed to consider your words for longer than what was acceptable. You saw his eyes flying between yours and your lips.

“Please?”, you begged.

Your prayers might have been heard, because he leaned forward, brushing your mouth with his.

“Then go down on your knees, darlin’”, he whispered against your lips.

You silently gasped as your clit pulsed at his words. You were delighted to follow his command, and so you kneeled compliantly.

When your knees touched the grass, his cock was at eye level. You couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. His dick was as big as you remembered, the memory of it filling you up still haunted you. It was so erected now that the tip touched his belly button. Joel looked so strained you thought he had to be in pain. And you were more than willing to help him alleviate it.

You moved your hand forward, but before you could try to wrap your fingers around him, Joel stopped you.

“No, with your mouth”, was his order.

You intertwined your fingers on your lower back and inclined your heard towards him. You gazed up at him, his jawline very tense. You let your tongue out and shyly tapped his glans with the tip. Joel closed his eyes immediately and grumbled loudly as his cock twitched in front of you.

That was all you needed to spur you on. You widely opened your mouth to house his manhood and sealed your lips around the head, the tip of your tongue trying to push open the slit on his foreskin. You played with him for a bit while your jaw relaxed. Then you started to push him in further and further down your mouth, as far as you could take him. His glans pushed past your uvula, you could barely breathe, just as you had imagined a few months ago ― a dream come true. You bobbed your head back and forth, feeling him in your throat, your eyes watering. But you were still not close to have his dick entirely in your mouth ― he was so damn big.

Joel growled in ecstasy as he looked down to you. The sight of you on your knees with your mouth stuffed, bright beautiful eyes, your tongue maliciously inciting him… He just couldn’t believe how giving you were.

“Look at you with your mouth so full”, he said placing one of his hands under your chin. He could feel his own cock expanding your throat. “You look so damn pretty, baby”.

You leaned back a bit, releasing most of his erection except for the tip. With the help of one hand you started pumping his shaft, the other gently massaging his balls. Joel eyed you intensely while you ate him up like a lollypop. His salty flavour inundated all your senses, your eyes pinned on his.

His fingers clenched in frustration.

“Shit, stop, I’m gonna come”, he mumbled as he pushed back to free his dick from your wicked lips.

No way in hell, you thought. He was not about to deny you that. You had been thinking about this moment for fucking months, you wouldn’t let him take that pleasure away from you.

You grasped him by his ass, your palms firmly pressing on his buttocks to take his cock even deeper. You then gave him head as best as you knew how, fastening the rhythm when you felt the pulsation coming from him.

“Fuck, baby―”, he moaned your name as he came in your hot, wet cavity.

You felt his spent hit the back of your throat. It was so tangy and musky. You swallowed all of it. Ah, delicious, you thought gleefully. You let go of his ass and released his dick from the prison of your lips.

You placed the palms of your hands on your knees, still on the ground, and glanced up at him innocently with a sweet smile painting your face. You then opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show Joel you had eaten all his cum ― a bridge of spit connecting the tip of your tongue to his glans.

He dropped one hand to break off the arch of saliva between you and him with his index, and fed it to you ― you gladly accepted, sucking his finger clean.

“Did I do good, sir?”, you asked with a small voice, looking for praise.

“Good? You did fucking splendid, sweetheart”, you beamed with the compliment and got up to your feet when he offered you a hand.

He took your hand, walking behind him as he headed towards the lake. He turned around to face you and kissed you slowly, his tongue caressing your palate. He then took a step back. The sun was setting on his back, the orange and red lighting reflecting off the waterbed. His brown eyes, bearded jaw, hooked nose, his hair curling at the nape of his neck… He looked like a roman God ― Mars, you thought. Joel looked like a man about to fight for his life and yours on the battlefield.

He sat down on a massive flat rock one metre away from the bank of the lake, which was approximately two metres wide in both directions.

“Now undress for me, baby”, he instructed.

You did not hesitate ― all your clothing fell to your feet, piece by piece, while Joel eagerly watched the show you put on. He wetted his bottom lip while he readjusted his cock on his lap. You stood there with dreamy eyes, awaiting. He motioned one hand towards the rock he was sat on, an invitation for you to join him.

Once you were sat on his right, he placed his left hand around the front of your neck ― a very slight touch that forced you to flatten your back against the rock while he positioned himself on top of you. He bit your chin while his left hand put a sweet amount of pressure on your throat. You could tell he was controlling himself.

“My turn”, he whispered, coming off you.

He got off the rock, kneeling on the ground in front of you. You put your elbows down on the rock to lift your torso and be able to look at him, your knees bent, the sole of your feet against the cold surface of the rocky platform. Joel grabbed you by the hips and scooted your ass over to the edge of the rock. Your legs were firmly pressed against each other, trying to hide your quivering cunt ― suddenly you felt shy.

“Spread your legs open for me, darlin’, lemme see”, he commended you with his hands on your knees.

You couldn’t say no to him, you didn’t want to. So you obeyed, dropping your legs to the sides, offering him your dripping fold. He traced your slit with his index, and you moaned.

“You’re so fucking wet already. So receptive, aren’t you?”, he asked looking at you dead in the eye, his finger sinking in between your legs, looking for the entrance. “Who gets your pussy so wet?”, he pushed his fingertip in your hole, and you groaned loudly. “Who, darlin’? Use your words”.

“You, only you, sir”, you gasped.

“This is mine”. He pushed in the second phalange.

You closed your eyes, trying to control your breathing.

“All yours, yes”.

His finger got completely sucked in down to his knuckle, stroking your g-spot. You harshly pressed your lips.

“Exactly, don’t you dare forget that”, his tone was so serious you looked at him enigmatically, not really understanding where that sudden possessiveness came from, but you loved every bit of it. And you were more than happy to put his doubts to rest.

You nodded frantically.

“I would never, sir, I swear my pussy is all yours”, you really meant it.

“As it should be”, he added a second finger as he leaned forward and kissed your mound.

You sighed, eyes teary, and flattened your back against the rock again, as Joel made out with the fatty skin above your clit. He introduced a third finger, all of them rubbing your anterior wall. Then his mouth dropped and sucked in your clit. Your knees trembled while you held both of your breasts, playing with your nipples and biting down your lip to stop your wanton screams. He insisted with his kissing until your wet cunt started fluttering around his fingers, a clear tell you were about to come. He stroked your clit with his teeth, very lightly, sending shivers up your spine. Your legs pressed against his head, tension building up. And then, finally, sweet release. You came so hard on his mouth, and he drank it all.

He unburied his head from in between your legs and glanced at you with a sufficient smile.

“You taste even better directly from your creamy cunt, baby”, you were glad he was so talkative during sex, especially if it was to praise you.

Joel placed the palm of his hand over your mound, his fingers covering your damp pussy, and rubbed with just the right amount of friction. You exhaled slowly.

“I’m gonna make you come again”, he promised.

You pursed your lips, your cunt palpitating at the prospect.

“I don’t know if I can―”, you uttered under your breath.

He raised an eyebrow, almost as if he was offended. Joel grabbed your thighs and pulled towards him; the back of your knees placed on his shoulders.

“Don’t doubt me, of course you can. I said I’ll make you”, his mouth was so close to your moist pussy you felt his cool breath on your damp skin.

You whimpered when his tongue swept your entire slit unhurriedly, from your perineum to your clit, his hand climbing up your body to squeeze one of your breasts firmly. Joel repeated that move a few times ― and your brain chemistry would be changed forever after that. He briefly pinched your nipple while he paid special attention to the core of your pleasure. Joel smothered your clit with his lips ― you closed your eyes while placing a hand over his on your boob.

Joel’s tongue stopped torturing you for a second. He nudged your clit with the tip of his hooked nose and then inhaled your sweet smell. That scent was making him go wild with lust to the point where he started fisting his cock, the tip already leaking with precum. He flattened his tongue against your swollen lips, wiggling it through the slit to touch your needy hole. He could not believe you were this wet for him ― if he had the chance, he would drink from your seeping fold every single day. This was how ambrosia tasted like ― he was damn sure of it.

He placed his hands to each side of your puffy flaps to spread your pussy open, while the tip of his tongue slipped inside of you. Your free hand flew to his head, fisting a handful of hair. Your toes clenched as he started to fuck your hole with his tongue. You felt your whole uterus contracting so hard it was almost painful. Your cum started to ooze out as a new orgasm hit you with full force, yelling his name. Joel did not waste any of it, licking it off you shamelessly.

What just happened ― that felt like sin, the most beautiful sin you had ever experienced. Your breathing was so irregular you thought you were going to have a heart attack. Then you heard Joel snickering as he got back up to his feet.

“See? Told ya”, he said smugly as you placed the elbows on the rock to lift your chest and glance at him.

He was jerking off, his cock ready for you again. You sat back up and leaned forward, your hands on his muscular thighs as you kissed the slippery tip, the shaft, then his balls. You showered pecks all over his manhood, worshipping it.

“S-sorry, sir, can I ask? Is your cock only mine? P-please?”, you asked in between smooches, almost panting, looking at him with puppy eyes.

Joel’s irises were swirling with desire, his hips slightly slanted forward towards your mouth, his dick visibly spasming while he caressed your cheek.

“All yours, yes”, he replicated your exact words, your heart fluttering with contempt.

You smiled at him before licking his testicles again ― your hand pushing his shaft against his lower belly to give you better access. Your eyes never abandoned his as your saliva covered his soft ball sacks.

This time he did step back, and you let him.

“I need you inside me, please”, you murmured.

His jaw was so tight he didn’t dare to speak. Joel could feel his heartbeat on his cock, all because of you and your wanton mouth. You looked so damn beautiful ― on your knees, staring at him through your eyelashes, patiently waiting. He knew you very well by now, fully conscious that as sweet as you were acting now, that was it ― an act. And he loved every bit of it. He liked the way you replied to him when sex wasn’t involved, taking no shit from anyone, your snarky remarks driving him crazy.

Joel sat down on the rock and motioned for you to join him on his lap. You joyfully obliged, sitting atop of him. Your knees to each side of his waist, your bust against his, skin to skin. Your nipples grazed his chest, becoming harder at the electric contact. He cupped both of your boobs and pushed them up, so he could kiss them tenderly. You sighed, your mouth against his ear. Still holding your breasts, he unattached his lips from your nipples to peck your chin.

“Fuck me, darlin’”.

You looked down between you two. His erection was so prominent you knew it was hurting him. And you could ease that pain for him. Heaving, you lifted your hips up and grabbed his dick. It was hard but soft at the same time, velvety, very warm and beating. So sensitive to the touch he groaned ― music to your ears. You hugged his neck with your free arm as you guided his tip to your leaking entrance.

With a sudden drop of your hips, you impaled yourself harshly ― his bollocks kissing your tumid lips. You circled your hips against his, very slowly, which made you both moan in unison. Then you raised your body, his cock slipping out completely. Holding him from the base, you came down on him sharply again.

Joel was close to losing his mind. If you did that one more time, he wasn’t going to be able to hold it for much longer. You seemed to understand that, because you started to rock your hips back and forth, up and down. He kneaded your ass, feeling your rhythm, spurring you on. His fingers squeezed the skin under them while he kissed your collarbone. His mind was completely blank ― he could only focus on your sweet pussy hugging him, choking him. His dick felt so wet, so hot, throbbing for release… You kept on riding him, your movements growing erratic as you both were close to climax.

You surrounded Joel’s neck with both arms, pressing your breasts against his handsome face, your hips flushed with his, as your cunt angrily convulsed around his erection in blissful liberation. Joel held it together while you recovered, his hands still on your ass cheeks, fingers so clutched they were close to dislocating.

“Baby, if you don’t get off, I’m―”, pain smeared his tone. He was really fighting for his life right there and then.

“Oh, sorry”, you said with a small voice, still feeling your own pleasure. You elevated your hips, so his manhood popped out with a squelching sound.

You were not going to leave him hanging, obviously. So you kneeled before him, in between his strong legs, and kissed his tip. Joel sighed loudly when you closed off your lips around him for the second time today and pumped his shaft fast and strong, milking him dry. A minute later, your throat was clogged with his spent. A drop of it trickled down the corner of your mouth.

Joel leaned forward and caught the cum off the corner of your mouth with his thumb before rubbing it on your lips. Then he kissed you wetly, devouring you. He could never have enough of you.

“Thank you, sir”, you whispered with a smile when he was done assaulting your mouth.

He just smiled back. A genuine smile, the first you had seen from him. It tugged at your heart a little.

You were still feeling restless. Although you had orgasmed four times already, your pussy lips were so inflamed you thought you were on your way down to hell. Still on your knees in front of him, you softly massaged your sensitive clit. It was burning ― you suppressed a sob as you glanced up at him, lips slightly parted.

“What is it? Is your tight pussy still gushing, sweetheart?”, he asked you, cupping your chin.

You nodded, tears of frustration blurring your vision.

“I need more, I can’t ― my pussy is on fire, sir”, you muttered, feeling sorry for yourself. You were in a heightened state of sensory overload.

“Let me help you with that then”, you almost cried of relief at his words.

You quickly got up and kneeled on top of his lap again. He slipped a hand in between your bodies to caress your core. Your flesh trembled at the touch. Suddenly you realised you desperately needed to find your own rhythm ― you didn’t have to communicate it, Joel understood it in a second. He stopped and let you do what you had to do. You placed the palm of your hands on his shoulders and started rubbing your pussy against the side of his still hand. You slid your cunt further up to his elbow, and then returned back to his wrist. Your clit greedily welcomed the tingling sensation of the hair on his forearm against your wet slit.

You kept on rocking your hips back and forth on his forearm, pressing hard against it, sliding, rubbing and causing as much friction as you could, the heat in your belly flowing down to your crotch. You buried your fingers in his wet hair and tilted his head backwards so you could rest your forehead against his. Your inner walls contracted extremely hard and then you let go, squirting plentifully for a few never-ending seconds on Joel’s forearm. Your overstimulated cunt was leaking on top of him as if someone had opened the tap of your pleasure and couldn’t close it. When the last wave of your climax abandoned you, you looked down to see how it all trickled down from his forearm onto his lap.

You closed your eyes, content, when he gently tapped your pussy a few times. You breathed in deeply, feeling completely satisfied, finally at peace. Then you pecked his lips with gratitude.

“Better now, baby?”.

“Yes, infinitely better. I―I’m sorry I made a mess”.

“Don’t you apologise for that”.

You both remained in that position for a few minutes ― his now relaxed, wet cock warmly lodged between the flaps of your still dribbling cunt. He hugged your waist to bring you closer to him, his mouth brushing yours in a moment of calmness you had not experienced with him yet.

When his lips released yours, you placed your cheek against his right shoulder, your fingertips tracing the scar on it. Silence ensued, neither of you felt the need to fill it with words.

As much as you fought against yourself, you had feelings for Joel. Although you probably didn’t know all his faces, you knew enough about him to love him. The way he would have you on your tiptoes with his sarcastic comments, his bluntness, his rudeness, the way he would snap back at you when you pressed his buttons ― but also his kindness, his caring side, his softness, how he worried about you making sure you were okay, his demanding sexual needs, the way he made you feel when his hands mapped out your skin.

But you were not sure what he thought about all of this. In some respects, his mind was inscrutable. It was part of his charming personality, you guessed. You kissed the scar on his shoulder as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“I love how you smell”, he murmured.

“Is that the only thing you love about me?”, you couldn’t resist, the words just slipped out of your mouth. You wished you could take them back, but it was too late for that.

Joel slightly froze in place at your question. He couldn’t deny that he had started to develop feelings for you. The way you looked at him made him want to be a better person. Although you drove him crazy sometimes, you made his days bearable, a shining beautiful light amongst so much darkness. You were his lighthouse, guiding him to shore. He just needed to learn how to surf through the violent waves before he could safely approach the coast.

Knowing how close he had been to losing you had opened his eyes to a new, unknown reality. He would literally kill for you if he had to ― he had already done it and would do it all over again without blinking. No regrets whatsoever.

But he had some unresolved trust issues when it came to romantic relationships. Joel married Sarah’s mother, Charlotte, when they were both twenty-one years old, as soon as they knew they were expecting. The first two years were very hard on them both, parenthood was not a piece of cake. Resentment had grown between them, to the point where Charlotte had accused him of robbing her of her fun years, which led her to cheat on him. They tried to salvage their marriage for the sake of Sarah, but they never did ― Charlotte died in a car accident while on a heated, angry phone call with Joel.

He locked away those thoughts ― it wasn’t the time nor the place to dwell on the past. Not when he had you with him.

“I… well, no. I love everything about you, sweetheart”, he conceded.

Your heart skipped a beat with joy. No, it wasn’t a love confession, but it was much more than what you were expecting of him. You turned your face against his neck and placed a kiss on his Adam’s apple.

“C’mon, let’s freshen up, I want to clean my mess off you, I do feel a bit bad”, you said with a chuckle.

You got off his lap, the cool breeze touching your sweaty skin. You offered him a hand, which he took, standing up behind you. Without letting go of his fingers interlaced with yours, you guided him to the water. It was cold, but you ventured inside with Joel following you. When the level was up to your waist, you turned around in Joel’s embrace.

You proceeded to wash off your cum and his off his cock, his lap, his forearm. When you were done, he kissed the top of your head. His left hand did the same to you, his fingers caressing your pussy, cleaning the proof of your shared pleasure. He did so not in a sexual way, but in a caring, intimate way. A minute later, you both disappeared beneath the water to emerge a second later, to wash off all the sweat. You found yourself in his arms again, your cheek against his chest ― you could hear his heart beating loudly but steadily.

“Joel, I―”, you didn’t know where to start. There were thoughts you had been wanting to put into words for a while now. “What happened to me sucks and I still die a bit inside when the memories come back at night. But none of it was your fault, nor mine. I do not want those bastards to win, to ruin my life. And my life with you. And I know it will take time to heal that part of me, or maybe it will never heal, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want you. I want you so badly, Joel, but what I do not want is you walking on eggshells around me. I’m not broken, I want to move forward, not get stuck in the past. Do you understand what I mean?”, you asked, your cheek still against his chest, looking up at him.

His eyes were focused on yours. His heart shrunk a bit, sharing your pain. If he could, he would take it away, all of it ― the fear, the panic attacks, the agony, the memories, the nightmares. But he couldn’t change the past. So, he nodded.

“I do, honey”, he whispered as he bowed down to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

You both stood there for a few more minutes, hugging each other in silence. Then Joel grumpily ended the embrace.

“We should get back, Tommy is going to kill us”.

You laughed because it was so true. You both got out of the lake, towelled down and got dressed. You started walking towards the campsite besides him ― your hand in his, fingers entangled. When you saw the tent and Tommy’s outline against the fire, you got ready to release his hand. But he didn’t let go when Tommy turned around to look at both of you.

You tried to hide a soft smile ― and failed.

The younger Miller noticed you holding hands but made no comment about it. But he did smile. A very wide smile.

“Well, about damn time, dinner is almost ready”, he said with amusement, pointing to the rabbit impaled with a stick roasting on top of the fire. “If you took any longer, the rabbit was going to come back to life and run away”.

“Always so theatrical, Tommy”, you chuckled.

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