#“can a lady not get drunk in peace”

[radioattic]

for a couple years there, Sinead would hang out in the square with all the other regulars whenever she was in Atlanta. She had a thing for big doofus guys, so, lots of people on that scene were faced with the realization "I don't have a chance here" despite being so charismatic cool and hot. HA HA.

Her entrance into our community was standard: she put 10$ in the kitty for a beer party, then showed up and demanded her cut. <456

though it took me a long time to really act on the lesson, she showed me a lonnnnng time ago why never to get involved with The Arts outside of the immediate world, the immediate community - not to sell my artistry but rather individual works & engagements. Despite / while scrabbling after moneys in various ways in The Arts, her lesson stayed in my mind, taking years to become comprehensible.

…her manifest unhappiness was palpable, no matter what she did or how gentle she could make her presence, no matter how much she distanced her offstage life from her onstage one

that deal with SNL actually messed her heart up 💔

one of the more tragic figures from the old days, in my perception

I'm heading in the same direction, no question about it.

Sorry about the world, ms O'Connor, acquaintance of yesteryear. You'll be missed, by people you made connections to. We were all bettered by your short stint in our world. I hope we were able to give you some measure back - to make you happy for a little while.

[yuwuta]

peds surgeon yuuta??? u cant say things like that i need to jump. the cartoons, the glasses, of course his freaky ass would have a thing for u calling him doctor okkotsu i need to die id wanna tease him sm and be all over him but i cant think of anything if its in a hospital how did the greys anatomy ppl made it work?

the grey’s doctors were FREAKS LMFAOO bc there is not space to be doing all that in the on call rooms…. honestly yuuta is probably too busy to even try anything with you in the hospital 90% of the time… he’s either in surgery or buried in the research library or falling asleep standing up 😭 sometimes you two pass each other in an empty stairwell and have time for a kiss or two, but never more than that (also because yuuta has very little self-restraint when it comes to you… if he allowed himself more than that, then it would be much harder to stop…) 

sometimes the two of you will fall asleep in the same on call room. yuuta will page you there and by the time you arrive he’s already half asleep, it’s probably his only nap in the last 24 hours, so you do your best not to wake wake him when you cuddle up next to him. you get a few hours of bliss in his arms before his pager is waking the both of you up, and he’s got to scurry downstairs to the peds floor and in his hurry he doesn’t realize he’s snagged your lab coat instead of his own, and it’s only when he’s haphazardly slipped it on and the arms are too short and the shoulders are too tight that he figures it out. it’s too late by then, because gojo is the attending on this case which means he doesn’t miss anything, which means he’s the first to giggle and tease, poking at your name embroidered above the breast pocket, “oh? i didn’t know the two of you got married already! oh and you took her last name, how noble, yuuta!~” 

[queers-gambit]

Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs

prompt: slutty stranger bathroom sex on a train.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 3.7k+

note: are all our safe words pineapple? i need this man to rail me, you know, for science. yep, that's right, Cherry has a new fixation! aren't y'all so lucky?

warnings: author has brain rot, smut (public, strangers, unprotected), obviously cursing, PWP.

Japan was bright, you decided with a soft smile on your lips; looking around the train station glowing in neon lights; some blinking, some colored, all fluorescent. People milled around every inch of the place, all walks of life from school children to professionals with briefcases, talking on the phone, running to make their departure. Couples held hands, families took meals together, and a few meters away, a little girl screamed when her brother stole her Momonga plushie.

You must've been enraptured with all around you that your shoulder bullied into someone else's on the platform, making you gasp an instant apology in Japanese. However, the man you had collided with just offered you a stoic look up and down, letting his lips pull in a half-smirk, checking in English with a thick accent, "My apologies, love. You all right there?"

"Yeah, I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you bid with a small smile.

"'S all right, pretty ladies like you can run into me all day," he smirked, eyeing you up and down before following after his snazzy-dressed companion - who slapped his chest forcefully.

"Leave the girl alone, mate," the man reprimanded. "Sorry, miss, he gets it in his head he's God's gift to ladies."

"It's really okay, it was my fault for not watching where I was going," you assured the men, glancing at your watch. "I'm so sorry, but I really can't miss this train. Safe travels, gents!" You bid, offering a simple wave, then scurried off - trying not to double back for the man with a mustache.

God, was that man handsome! Like, illegally handsome. Hauntingly handsome.

You'd even go as far as to say he was devilishly handsome! Those eyes? Beautifully clear blue, alluring, drew you in and held you captive. His cologne? Absolutely heavenly, borderline intoxicating. And he was built like a fucking mountain - tall, broad, slender hips, bulging muscles that looked as if they would rip his button-up.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of the body-heating thoughts about the stranger you had just barreled into. Being horny got you nowhere, but being perpetually horny... Was the biggest fucking L. Sure, you could rub one out; you knew where the clit was and how to stimulate to your own pleasure (unlike most men). But it was something about a man sweating over you, thrusting into you with abandon; creating a mess in your guts, mind, and chest.

Yeah... You needed to get laid, you were fucking drooling over some stranger you had a 23-second interaction with.

However, upon entering your train and locating a seat in the hopefully peaceful quiet car, you mindlessly downloaded Tinder to pursue at your leisure, but only a few swipes in and you were exiting the app and deleting it (again) from your phone. The train was ready to depart the station, you cracking a bottle of water, looking back on your two-week Japanese excursion your job had sent you on.

And now, you were finally heading to your last stretch of meetings, requiring you to purchase an overnight ticket on one of the available bullet trains. Seemed the fastest, simplest, and most affordable way to travel - skipping out on upgrading to first class. Economy was just fine, you decided, perhaps doubting yourself when your eyes widened when you caught sight of the two strangers you ran into on the platform finding their seats a few rows up. There was a third man with them now that was left slumped in a spare chair - probably drunk off his arse, based on the man's grungy, disheveled look.

You tried not to thinking about the handsome stranger, but he was just a few rows up from you! God, you could practically smell his cologne from here, letting your mouth water slightly.

Yeah, perpetually horny was the biggest L - like you said.

Your thighs squeezed together as you crossed them, hoping the pressure was enough to relieve the build-up of warmth in your belly and cunt. Your headphones were placed, your attention diverting out the window, and tried to imagine if nobody else was in this fucking carriage - he could take you here and now.

After a few stops, your empty water bottle sought revenge against your bladder and ushered you to the closest bathroom. It wasn't as tight a squeeze as airplane bathrooms, but it was still a small facility to use. When done, you washed your hands as a knock sounded at the door, calling in Japanese, "Just a second!"

After unlocking the door and opening it, you actually flinched back slightly when the man from early with the '70s pornstache was stood directly in front of you.

"Well, don't you look like hell," you mused slightly.

"All in a day's work, love," he answered, stepping out of your way to let you exit the bathroom. He looked you up and down, asking, "So, uh, where you headed?"

You told him your stop, asking him the same. He told you, your mind doing mental gymnastics to understand that you both had a good bit left on this train... Surely, anything could happen.

"I'll let you, yeah," you half-smiled awkwardly, moving out of his way fully to give him access to the restroom.

"You know..." He trailed, pointing at the empty lavatory, "Could fit two."

You chuckled, "Yes, but I'm finished now - you go on."

He hummed, glancing up and down the train car - spying through the windows of the conjoining connection each car had. When he faced you again, he took a slow, calculating step forward, "That's not exactly what I meant, sweetheart."

You feet took a slow, calculated step back to find the wall, his smirk broadening. "Then how about using your words like a big boy and tell me what you meant?"

"You look like a smart girl, sure you can figure it out, yeah?" He leered over you, either foot standing between yours, nearly pressed into you but far back enough that he could maintain eye contact.

You pouted at him, "I don't read minds."

"Not sure it's me mind yah gotta read," he perked a single brow, glancing out the window again. "Now, I'd love t'stand here and ravish you the way I've wanted since you bumped into me earlier, but maybe exhibition isn't your thing."

"Judging me now?"

Now, both his brows slowly rose. His teeth poked out from between his smirking lips, praising, "Naughty girl."

"Maybe you're the one a bit nervous, hmm?" You quipped, boldly reaching forward to palm his cock - already half-hard. "What's wrong, mister? Don't want people seeing you so, hm, submissive?" You gave a cheeky flex of your hand, his hips bucking involuntarily.

"You fuckin' minx," he chuckled, hands to your waist now. "Get in that fuckin' bathroom or I might just have to give this whole fuckin' train a show."

"Better start charging them all," you whispered, hearing his growl before pushing his chest back to give you a little space. "You do this often, then? Proposition strangers into dirty bathroom sex on public, moving trains? Hmm? In a foreign country? Seems terribly disrespectful, don't it?"

"Sweetheart, the thoughts in my head about what I want to do to this body - those are disrespectful," he smirked. "Wanna tell me I'm not truly tempting you? You would've left by now," he pointed out, making your chest feel warm from the embarrassment you felt suddenly. You smirked and twiddled your fingers at him in parting, turned, and just before you could step away, you felt his arms lock around your waist. "C'mon, darlin', don't be like that," he hissed in your ear, your visible smirk spurring him on. "Not about t'beg yah, princess, get this pretty li'l arse in this stall."

You folded.

Being perpetually horny was an L, sure, but being propositioned by a handsome, hulking, muscly stranger was for sure a Dub, right?

You turned in his arms, lips only centimeters apart; breathing the same air, hand on his chest to ease him back into the bathroom stall. He grinned in triumph, and the moment you were over the threshold, still maintaining eye contact, he reached around you to click the lock in place.

"C'mere," he growled, surging forward to bring his lips down to yours finally - and just like that, your panties were done for. You moaned instantly, feeling something akin to relief when his lips molded against yours; all but immediately sweeping his tongue against the seam of your mouth.

Letting him in was mind boggling; literally making static fill your brain as your hand lifted to hold the back of his neck, threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. His mustache was stiff, wriggling in an irritating fashion against your upper lip and nose, but you didn't notice - too engulfed in the way he domineered every rational thought. His hands both pressed tightly to your ribs, then waist, down your hips, around to your arse - like he couldn't make up his mind where he wanted to touch you. So, he chose to touch you everywhere.

He was intoxicating; feeling drunk on his taste, smell, touch. He was warm, his curls a bit greasy but still shocking soft, and his lips - plush, welcoming, anchoring. You didn't even know his name, but you didn't need to! All you needed was exactly what he was doing: holding complete control over your heart, mind, and cunt.

Your stranger pulled back suddenly, offering a skeptical look, "There's no boyfriend, fiancé, husband I'm gonna have to look over my shoulder for, right?"

"Not since about 6 months ago, no. Do I need to ask you the same?"

"'Course not," he mused with a grin, kissing you again - but just a degree softer. Now, both his hands rose to caress either cheek; his tongue wagging against yours in more controlled caresses. One hand dropped slowly to hold your neck, pulse quickening, and your stranger smirked, muttering against your lips, "Cheeky girl."

You pushed him back half a step, offering him a once over before confidently reaching down for the end of your shirt and pulling it off over your head. Your companions mouth fell open when you revealed yourself to him, smirking as you opened your jeans to show a hint of the lace panties you wore. You told him your name, earning a confused hum. "My name," you explained, "figured you need to know what to moan." His tongue swept over his lips. "Gonna just stand there?"

He chuckled, checking his watch, then started unbuttoning his waistcoat. "Tangerine," he spoke simply.

"That your safe word?" You asked, shucking your jean clean off after toeing out of your shoes. "Hm, mine's pineapple."

"'S my name, love," he chuckled, opening his button up to reveal exactly what you thought - plains of smooth skin over rigid, bulging muscles. "So you know what to scream," he smirked.

You paused, stood in your panties, bra, and socks, asking through a small chuckle, "You're telling me, your mother carried you all those months in her belly, pushed you screaming - bloodied - into the world, looked at yah, and said, 'yeah, he looks like his name should be Tangerine'?"

He peeled his top half naked, your throat swelling close; swallowing harshly to clear your mouth of the overflow of salvia. Slowly, he moved closer to you, once again leering over you. He reached out for your neck, not too tight or aggressive, but forceful enough to tilt your head back. "'S a codename, love," he explained.

"Ah, so can't reveal the government."

"Exactly."

"The fuck kinda job you got that requires codenames?"

"The dangerous kind," he smirked, "wanna keep running your mouth or put it to other use?"

You chuckled and reached for his trousers, holding his eyes with yours as you easily unfastened him and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and suit pants. His mouth parted slightly when the cooler air hit his exposed cock, asking, "Safe word?"

He snickered, "Pineapple's fine, love," he sounded far too amused, watching you get on your knees in front of him, "but I doubt we'll need - Oh, holy, fuckin' good God," he seethed through clenched teeth when you eagerly took him in your mouth.

He was bigger than what you were used to - like a full double the size your previous partners had been. He was longer, thicker, and Goddamn, was he sweltering in your mouth. You wondered how long it had been for him, feeling your panties dampen as you felt exhilarated to show this man with a "dangerous job" exactly what your mouth could do - and why he'd never forget your name.

"Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," he groaned, collecting whatever hair he could in a makeshift ponytail; looking down his nose to watch you. His cock was overwhelming, but you were determined to earn the pleasure he would surely bring; mouthing around his cockhead, using one hand to pump what didn't fit, the other alternating between holding his hairy thigh for balance and cradling his balls.

A few times, you held his eyes with yours as you removed his cock with a pop; licking his shaft up and down like it was a popsicle on the Fourth of July. His jaw would clench each time, sputtering his breath. His veins were pulsing, prominent under the skin; making your cunt contract as his throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly, groaning.

"Li'l too good at this, baby, Goddamn," he breathed, chuckling to himself as he retracted his hips while holding your jaw. "All right, all right," he chuckled, "made your point, love. Get up here 'fore I lose my bloody mind."

You pouted, "I quiet like it down here."

"Darlin', I'm about to bust - "

"Isn't that the point?"

He chuckled and reached down to help you up, instantly searing you in a wet, messy kiss as he backed you into the sink counter; tasting himself on your tongue. It was erotic, something you were vastly not used to - no man ever being okay with you kissing them after having their dicks in your mouth.

But no, this Tangerine fellow was obviously built different.

One hand anchored your waist, the other dropping to toy with your panties gently; petting the waistband before sinking his hand lower. You shuddered lightly when his finger swept through your wet folds, both groaning in pleasure when he sunk knuckle-deep. "Feels so good, love," he praised, your legs widening your stance to let him better access; hand fully disappeared into your panties. "So fuckin' warm, yeah," he breathed, increasing his speed so he pumped aggressively. He didn't need a second finger, he was chasing your orgasm - purely focused on the way you withered before him.

"Tan," you whimpered, gripping his assaulting arm as he found your g-spot and chuckled darkly.

"Got it, there, did I? Yeah, let's see what you've got, love, c'mon."

You whined in your throat, leaning into his chest as your legs began to quake. You didn't get a chance to warn him, feeling that overwhelming urge to urinate - gasping loudly and needing him to support your body as his finger jabbed your g-spot to the point you were gushing into his hand.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he encouraged, stimulating you further; loving the feeling of your squirt in his cupped hand, "keep goin', good girl, that's it, yeah? I got yah, good girl, there you go."

You grunted when he slowed his hand to the point the heel of his palm ground into your clit. Feeling overstimulated, your hand slapped to his meaty forearm, meeting his eyes with a glare, begging, "Okay, okay, okay, you made your fuckin' point."

He grinned, "Didn't know I had that affect on you, love. Huh?"

"You could've offered to fuck me when I ran into you earlier and I would've bent over - right there and then," you whispered against his lips, licking into his mouth right after; making his own mind go blank.

"Feelin's mutual, doll," he nodded, using both hands to shred your lace panties from your hips with a shrill gasp. "Keepsake," he teased, showing you the ruined fabric before dropping it.

You offered him a coy look before turning around for him, not needing the instruction; meeting his stare in the mirror. Bracing yourself against the sink, you slumped over it, making him groan.

"Fuck, doll," he whispered, admiring the view and smoothing a hand over one bare cheek. "Just look at yah, ready fa' me, just drippin'," he bit his lip, giving a few pumps to his length as he looked you over; other hand toying with your weeping hole. He growled and slid his cockhead up and down your slit, both shuddering lightly; moaning in union when he notched himself at your entrance. His eyes met yours in the mirror, his mouth parted, slowly sinking forward to the fucking hilt - making you feel impossibly full.

"Oh, Jesus fuck!"

He chuckled, shifting his hips, "Keep it down, love, don't need anyone bangin' on the door, interrupting us, huh?"

"I'll be quiet when you get a smaller dick."

This made Tangerine genuinely snicker, "Fair enough."

"Fuck's sake!" You yelped when he suddenly pulled back, surged in, and started his own rhythm. Through the mirror, you saw the concentrated, cocky expression he wore; looking purely focused, mesmerized by the way his cock would disappear within you, only to reappeared - soaking wet, glistening.

"Feel's divine," he hissed, the grip on your hips sure to leave bruises. "God, this pussy's made fa me - grippin' s'fuckin' tight. Who was the idiot who let this go, huh?"

"Really wanna talk about my ex now?" You panted.

"Nah, don't need to - 's mine now," he grit, one hand letting go of your hips to bring down on the meat of your bottom. "Hear me? Huh? Fuckin' mine now," he pommeled your arse a couple more times. "Like that, huh? Don't you? Feel you fuckin' squeezin' me each time."

"Yes," you moaned. "Fuck, yes, yes, God, you feel fucking amazing."

"Keep talkin'," another slap that made you squeak.

You were nervous 'cause you never considered yourself the best at dirty talk, but still tried, "So fuckin' good, makin' me so wet. Fuck - never had cock like this, so good - so deep, so big. Don't stop," you whimpered, his feet repositioning to allow himself a new angle and speed to drill into you. "Fuck, yes," you moaned loudly, encouraging, "harder, please, yes, yes, yes! Just like that!"

The motions cause ripples across the flesh of your bottom, thighs quaking. You pushed your hand down your front, your partner groaning at the sight as you found your clit and started massaging; the contractions squeezing Tangerine's cock tightly. His one hand traveled around the front of you, sliding up to yank your bra from your breasts; palming one with fever before tweaking your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

"Fuuuuck, Tan," you whined, moaning. "Don't stop, please, 's too fuckin' good!"

"I've got yah, darlin', almost there," he grunted, folded a little more over your back so he could fondle you roughly. "Naughty fuckin' girl, lettin' me bend yah over like this - don't even know me. Just knew you needed my cock, huh, love? Ain't that right?"

"Yes," you moaned, orgasm fast approaching.

"Probably let me do whatever I wanted t'you, huh?"

"Fuck yes, whatever you wanted, however you wanted me!"

"At's a good girl," he grit. "Takin' me so well, so fucking good. Need this pussy again, hear me? Fuck," he panted, increasing his speed to an erratic pace, "need a taste, need yah t'squirt on me again. Need this pussy in all positions." He bared his teeth, increasing his speed, hissing, "Lemme hear you scream, love. Wanna hear my name. from that pretty fuckin' mouth, c'mon."

"T-Tan, fuck, Tangerine, I-I'm right there, I'm so close - OH FUCK!" Your orgasm made you reel back into his chest, milking yourself on his impaling cock. You gasped, mouth left wide as his hand constricted around your throat, his mouth hot against your ear; biting and licking as he grunted forcefully.

He gasped in your ear, moaning your name on a short repeat, shuddering as he stilled himself; coating your wet interior with his thick ropes of hot, heavy cum. Your eyes were closed, head tilted back to his shoulder; his lips actually soft as he planted several kisses along your neck (that he released) and shoulder. "Holy fuck, doll," he whispered, chuckling in disbelief. "'S a li'l too good."

You smirked, "Yeah, I've heard that before, you're not the first t'tell me."

"Ah, way t'ruin it, doll," he joked, making you chuckle breathlessly. "All right?"

"Mhm," you sighed, eyes opening. "You?"

"Never better," he mused softly, sighing as you both tried to regain your breath. He let out a single grunt as he held your hips, pulling his cock free; releasing a gush of cum from you both to drip from your cunt. As you both redressed, he eyed you for a moment, then mentioned, "Listen, love, uh... Don't miss your stop."

"I wasn't planning on it?"

"Good... Just..." He sighed, closing up his shirt. "Make sure you get off this train."

You stared at him for a moment, pondering, "This have something t'do with that 'dangerous job' of yours?"

"A bit."

You hummed, zipping your jeans back up sans panties. "Why don't you get off, too?" You asked softly.

"Can't, darlin', got a job t'finish."

You nodded, "Then be careful, yeah?"

He nodded in return, reaching out to pull you in close. He took a second to look you over, smirking slightly, "Worried about me, are yah?"

"I don't even know you."

"We'll change that," he eased. "Your phone?" You offered a small look before sighing, reaching for your phone, unlocking it, and offering it to him. He typed for a moment, a distant buzz heard from his own phone, then handed it back to you. "I'll call you up sometime, love," he smirked, watching you reach back to unlock the door.

"You better," you mused, letting him press one more searing kiss to your lips. You hummed, pouting slightly and telling him, "Behave, or we'll go at round two."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, darlin'," he pocketed your shredded panties with a cheeky grin.

"You still owe me for those," you pointed.

"Send a bill, I'll make it up t'yah."

You smirked, "No bill, but I'd take dinner."

To your honest shock, a sort of... Contemplating, soft expression took over his face, nodding, promising quietly, "I'll call yah, darlin'. Just make sure you answer."

[ part two: Shower Shenanigans ]

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[gremlingottoosilly]

I just read ur !Stripper!Reader x !Mafia!König fic and OMG!!! Can u pls write more about them but the reader is the popular one in the club?!

Night with you can cost a working man half of his income. A single lap dance can bring you enough money to finally quit this job - and you tried to before, on, multiple different occasions. You're smarter than this now, recognizing that there is absolutely no fucking way you're ever going to be free from this job. Maybe only if you're dead and buried in some undisclosed location. At least your cage is laced with gold and pillows - at least you know how to please dangerous men just enough so they would buy your dance for a few private occasions but not enough to make you their lover. You played the game well enough - before he showed up. Konig is too important to ignore, but you're too popular to rank him first class dance without making him wait. You hope he'd understand the memo - lady doesn't want to see him, lady is too busy getting her bra stuffed with crispy new euros. The gentleman doesn't care and can wait for the whole night to get the lady, however - even though it's nearly the end of her shift, and she already feels like dropping her stilettos and hoping that her last client would be too drunk to care that she is not dancing quite right. But Konig knows what he wants. The best girl in this whole club, maybe the best in town - and the only one that doesn't belong to him. The thought drives him crazy, almost enough to break the peace negotiations and take the territory from neutral grounds - not because he wants to branch out in the business of pleasure, but solely because he wants to have you. Needs to have you, with him, as close as possible. At all times, no matter what you might think or want. God, this infuriates him. But you're worth the wait. Maybe, if you didn't make him wait till the latest hour, he could have popped a boner sooner, masturbate for a bit, and forget about the way you make his nerves explode. Maybe if you didn't make him wait until he is fully ready to put his hands on your precious body, he wouldn't grow so obsessed with the way your body moves for other people. But you made him wait and in his wait, he grew impatient. He knows how to wait for good things, but you're too fucking good. Worth waiting for. You made the most dangerous man in the city earn for you like a schoolboy with his first crush - and Konig doesn't forget things like this so easily.

[millerscoffee]

reader lives in jackson and is friends with tommy, so she sees joel relatively frequently, and they just DONT get along. the reader is young and she’s got a sharp tongue and cheek that irritates the shit out of joel, who shoots back just as much condescending insults. they literally can’t be in a room without getting into it. however, the reader does it for his attention (she’s got daddy issues), and joel doesn’t catch onto this until she’s knocking on his door at midnight because she can’t sleep and she needs him and she doesn’t know how to admit it. he pulls her in the house and absolute filth ensues. he makes her blow him and then they fuck. joel is smug and condescending the whole time, and reader just becomes a ragdoll. Size kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, creampie/breeding, the works PLEASE

you got it, anon! ✨ this was requested on @atticrissfinch's page too, go check it out! i love how the same request can elicit two different stories. i did my best not to read it before i finished this (it was as difficult as it sounds cos HOO BOI 😅🥵♡)

only daddy that'll walk the line

6.2k | joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: big mean dom!joel™️ lmao, alcoholism (reader's dad, but also drunk!joel for a second - **this is not in the smutty scenes**), parental abuse (verbal, it is brief), smut, age difference (joel is 56, reader is 18-early 20s - your choice), size kink, dirty talk (joel's a talker more than his usual grunty self), name calling (bitch, brat, slut, etc.), light praise kink & like- two pet names, ✨ degrading language and acts ✨, edging, choking/gagging, hair pulling, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, spitting kink!!!, spanking, oral (m receiving), no prepping the reader, brat tamer!joel, bratty reader, if i missed anything lmk

summary: based in jackson, you have the unfortunate predicament of being friends with tommy miller and hating his brother, joel – and you have no problem in letting either of them know that! until one night you are brought to joel's doorstep.

A/N: this is my first request! thank you! huzzah!! hopefully it's to your liking, nonnie. he's big mean dom!joel™️ but with a conscience yknow?? enjoy ♡ i did proofread this, but i wrote it over the course of a couple weeks. i did my best! lol

"Dude, what's his fucking problem!?"  You roll into the dining hall in a huff.  Shuffling to your seat for dinner, you slam your tray down and Maria gives you a combined look of worry and irritation at peace being compromised.

"Who, honey?"  Tommy asks, handing you a glass of water with an entertained grin because he's positive he knows just who you're talking about.

He'd seen the two of you go at each other's throats earlier in the day when you were trying to get by him on your way out the door.  His back was to you, and he all but ignored your request to get out of the way.  Causing you to shove past him, which ensued an argument between the two of you.  Which led you to both of you gunning each other with your words until you both left in a bad mood.

Joel had his back to you, his frame fully in the doorway as he spoke with a woman in town.  It started off slow: a few clearings of your throat, a slight nudge of his back.  No avail.

"Excuse me," you shouted, pushing at him again before he finally turned around quickly with his jaw ticked.

"Do you have any manners, Christ."  He said dry and muttered under his breath, but the lady made room for you and you nodded politely in her direction.

"Maybe if you weren't so fucking old, you could've heard me!"

"And watch your fuckin' mouth."

Joel turned his back to you, not giving you a moment to retort.  Conversation over. 

"This fucker," when you look up, you see Joel coming towards the table.  The sight of him gives you a set of shivers you can't explain.  Not complete disgust, but certainly not excitement.

"You really oughta keep better company," Joel tells his brother, sitting down beside him, he frames his entire body towards Tommy so he's sitting in a way to make you feel ignored.

"I'm right here, you know."  Your head is moving so you're in the line of his vision.

"Don't remind me.  Listen, this is a family dinner.  Go find your own."

A slap in the face would've hurt less.  Before Tommy or Maria had the chance to come to your defences – both of their mouths open ready to take up for you – you stood up, shoving your tray over to Joel.  So loud, other people turn their gaze to the four of you.

"Fuckin– eat up, then."

As you storm off to your house, you hear Tommy scold his older brother but you don't look back.

---

The next morning, your father wakes you up to the sound of his own yelling for you to come downstairs.  You'd been helping out Maria and Tommy to get your own place, or at least a shared one with people your age and to hear your dad's voice; whiskey-soaked and cruel, makes your stomach churn.

After slipping on your clothes for the day, you make it to the kitchen where he's sitting at the table and reeking from alcohol even from where you're standing.

"Didn't you hear me call you?"  His words were slurred and angry.

"Yes, I'm sorry."  It's such a difference from how you talk to other people, talk to Joel, for example.  Maybe because he's the last person you spoke to, but he's the first one who pops into your head during this interaction.  You sound meek, scared to say something wrong.  A stark difference from how you speak to Joel – abandoning all worries of punishment.  Almost like you wanted that from him.

"Fuckinbetterbe – hiccup – breakfast.  Now."  Your dad all but snaps his fingers and rage creeps up the back of your throat, biting your tongue so hard you break the surface layer.  A slight streak of blood coats your mouth, but you do as you're told.

This morning is kinder than others.  Your dad did not say thank you for the pancakes, you didn't get hit or debased too much.  You consider it a win.  Once you leave your house as soon as you can, Joel's chest hits your face as soon as you turn the corner.  The milliseconds seem long when you're met with the warmth and solidity of his chest, the scent of cedar and... whiskey?  It seemed too early, even for him, to be drinking and you shake off the unreasonable rationale that he should be treated differently than your father for the same behaviour.

You ignore the similarities of him and your father all together, actually.

"Watch where you're goin'," Joel's brows are knit together, which is normal for him, but you've never been this close to see his lips from this angle above you.  You almost say something out of the ordinary for the two of you, but you reel it in quickly.

"You're one to fuckin' talk.  Morning coffee smells a lot like alcohol.  Maybe I should tell Tommy about your habits."

"Does it ever hurt your head bein' a bitch all the time?"

"Not as bad as that hangover will be around noon.  Move."

You push past the large build in front of you with a clenched jaw, unable to be around him a second longer.  "Fuck you, Joel," you mutter for good measure on your way to Tommy and Maria's.

They'd given you safety on days when it seemed scarce, and showing up felt appropriate.  You were a little closer with Tommy than Maria.  He was able to listen to you without being too judgy, and you needed that.  The lack of safety piece was a lot like how your day started off.  You walk around to the back where Tommy's working on a new hobby and you sit in front of him, letting out a big sigh.

"Y'daddy givin' you trouble again?"

Typically when Tommy asks about your father he says it like this, but today it catches you off guard.  Confusion twists your mind, but you nod distractedly.  "Yea, he was drunk this morning.  Your brother, too."

You slide that one in fast.

Tommy fists through his hair, letting out a heavy exhale.  "Shit.  We both got trouble this mornin', I guess."

"Seems like it."

You're unusually quiet, looking at the ground more than anything.  It bugs you that Joel and your father have a similar quality to them.  That they both are up reaching for the bottle, but for Joel it's not a common occurrence and that makes you worried – an emotion you don't have for him that often, if you're being honest.  You don't think about his experiences that often.  But this is the first time, really, you've even seen Joel drunk like that.  You remember Tommy mentioning that he'd given up the stuff since Sarah's passing when everyone was around a fire one night sharing stories.

As if the dots connect in real time, you look over to Tommy who looks worried sick.

"He'll figure it out,"  you reassure, chewing the inside of your cheek before heading out.  You call behind you, "I'll be around."

You've never really been good at the whole 'being there for someone' thing.

~~

Later on, you find yourself in the mess hall again for the night's dinner and you catch Maria, Tommy, Joel, and Ellie all together and it feels weird to sit with them.  They're all laughing, Joel looks sobered up.  And it seems that Tommy didn't bring up the conversation the two of you shared.  They look like a happy family and twists a knot in your throat and the proverbial knife at your side.

"Can I please spend the night at Tommy and Maria's?  Please?"  Ellie is looking over at Joel with the sweetest expression, you snicker to yourself at how menacing she actually was.  It seemed to do the trick, though.  Joel's eyes flicker over to you, and it feels like you're being caught for something.  The look is inculpatory without you doing anything.  As if to say you are witnessing something too personal, a side of him not meant for you.  "Yeah, sure," his response to Ellie sounds distant.

This gives you no choice but to walk up to the scene, to sit down beside Maria.  She gives you a welcoming grin and makes space for you.  "What'd I miss?"  You look over to Ellie who's excited to see you, but Joel?  Not so much.  His eyebrows narrow down his face, suddenly more quiet than usual, even for him.  You set your sights back on Ellie who's telling you all of the cool things she's gonna do at her Uncle Tommy's and you flash a smile that lets her know you're listening.  Or at least trying.  It's hard when Joel isn't even initiating the usual conflict with each other.  More arguing than speaking.  And the fact it wasn't happening was off.

"That sounds like a blast...," you trail off, your chin in your hands.

"If you're not gonna listen to her, don't ask her questions."  Joel barks, eyes now solemnly black in your direction.  It makes you scared and delighted at once.  Like he was back to normal.  Your normal.

"I was listening to her?"  You retort, and everyone's quiet now.  Awkwardness filling the air as the two of you battle it out.  "Maybe if you weren't so drunk all the time you'd know the differen–"  "Hey, now."  Tommy chimes in, giving you a stern look of disapproval and you feel bad.  Reflective.  Joel wasn't drunk all the time, and you knew exactly why he was this morning.

You exhale, "I'm sorry," you nod in the direction of everyone but Joel and stand up from your seat, "enjoy your family time."

On your way back to your house, you catch a glimpse of a group of people your age.  People you'd grown up with, but they didn't acknowledge you and it digs the wound closer in.  You truly felt alone.  Like nothing fit, and maybe you didn't belong in Jackson but it wasn't like there were many choices to go to.

---

More times than not you sneak into your room.  Not because you are past a type of curfew, you were an adult.  It was more, you didn't want your dad to know you were around.  Your door was locked when you climbed in through the window.

You got comfortable, spilling out of your clothes for the day and into your pajamas.  Cotton shorts and a loose tee.  Your breasts perky and nipples taut from the worn fabric.  A lot of the day was spent dealing with heavy subjects that you just wanted to let your mind escape.

Staring at the ceiling in your bed, your eyes become blurry in need of sleep.  Needing release.  Anything.

Your mind wanders to why Joel was so quiet with you when you sat down.  It wasn't like that was the first time the two of you had a shouting match in front of everyone, but this felt different.  You deduce it to Joel having an off day and let your mind wander somewhere else.

Or, at least you try.

Because when your hands explore your body under the blankets, Joel comes back to life in your thoughts.  You come back to the warmth of his chest when you ran into him this morning, the grunt that left him from impact.  What that would sound like against your ear.  Before you know it, you're shifting your thighs together, spreading the mess of your cunt.  A craving ignites your bloodstream.

It's slick between your legs when you sit up, and you're full of determination unbeknownst of where it's coming from.  The act itself is a little heady, but you have nothing to lose so why not?

Slipping on a pair of shoes and a jacket that covers your clothes, you turn your back to the window and scurry down until you're able to jump off onto the grass.  One step close to where you want to be.

Joel's house is across the street which makes it easy to get to, but aggravating when you want a sense of peace.  He's always around, shooting you a menacing stare when you're not down each other's throats but there's an ache you can't deny.  A compulsion.

You knock on his door twice before he swings it open almost like he saw you approach, but he doesn't tug you inside like you thought he was.  Doesn't make you get on your knees or fulfill any fantasy of being used.  Of... making him proud.

"What?"  His question is dry and a part of you is crushed. He isn't taking advantage of the way your legs look in your shorts right away.

"You're not the only one who had a bad fucking day," you start, but he doesn't give you a moment to push through the door because before you know it you're being pulled inside.  The sound of a slamming door somewhere behind you.  You're forced to look at him with his paw wrapped around your jaw, thumb tilting your chin up effortlessly.  It locks you in place.

"You came here.  Why?  Y'want me to fuck your bad day away?"

You gape is panicked, eyes wide now in this compromising position.  You can't think, you can't nod or say words.  You just stare.

"She's real fuckin' quiet now," Joel shoves you against the closed door, not letting an inch of space be wasted and he takes your wrist with his free hand, palming you over his hardening cock in his jeans.  "How about now.  You payin' close attention?"

You whimper, nodding softly as your fingers massage and rub, tug at anything you can through the fabric.

"Did I tell you y'could do that?"  His words make you pause, shivering at how truly empty your mind is in the moment.  Even in your inexperience you don't know you've ever felt so instantly timid.  Joel makes you fold at the first hint of misbehaviour.  You can't think of a thing to say.  Halfway don't know why you're here in the first place, and he's got you so wet from this it almost hurts.  Stickiness coats your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and you're sure it will be obvious even through your cotton shorts.

You shake your head, and he's sick of you not speaking to him.  Squeezes your face tighter, "Use your fucking words."

"No... no you didn't," you manage and you've never heard yourself sound so pathetic.

"I didn't, that's right.  You answer to me."  The snapping sound of his words causes your eyes to roll in annoyance.  He doesn't own you, he never fucking could.  The action makes his jaw tighten, his hand from your jaw in a grip that didn't hurt now is wrapped around your throat and although it's not tight, it certainly isn't loose.  "What the fuck was that?"

You're back to being silent, unable to do anything but take.

"Not asking again."

"I rolled my ey–"

"You rolled your eyes.  Roll your fuckin' eyes at me again, little girl.  You'll regret it."

A cool threat, you think.  Meaningless, even.  What possible reproach would he have anyway?

It's then you take in the house.  You'd been here once before to stay with Ellie.  It's dark, a single lamp upstairs.  All of this is background noise to the drone of your need prickling your youthful skin.  It's apparent, your age difference, when you're this close.  His rough fingers, wrinkles catching the moonlight peeking in through the windows.

"I–I'm sorry," you've been saying that a lot lately.

"Don't apologise to me.  Don't say sorry when I know you're not."  His thumb moves from your chin to your lips, thumbing over just how pliable and soft they are and it sends your nerves to the surface.  Prying your lips apart, he presses inside and you willingly wrap your lips around it to lap the pad of his digit.  "Look at that sweet thing," he says, more at you than to you, and your neck flushes being this willing to suck for him, "so easy for me to use.  I put my thumb to y'er lips and you just took it right in, didn't ya?"  The taste of his skin robs you of any other sense, his tone making you all but fold.

"Show me what this mouth is good for, 'cuz it sure ain't good at a sincere apology."

Before you know it, you're on your knees.  Joel is kind enough that he ushers you down onto the hardwood floor and you can't believe you're face to face with his crotch in front of his door, no less.

"You couldn't wait to take me to your bedroom?"

Joel doesn't reply straight away.  Instead you hear the clanking of metal, a zipper coming undone, and the slap of his cock hitting his abdomen on the way out of his pants.  You take mental note that he hasn't been asleep by his attire, but it's all for nothing when your eyes make out the shapes in the dim light.  You choke when you see just how big he is.

He tuts, leaning his head condescendingly as he takes a chunk of your hair in his palm to tilt your chin up to greet his cock.  "Aw, you think you're goin' t'my room?"  The words make you feel naïve, the one or two times you've done something like this didn't have nearly as much... compromise.  And you certainly didn't hook up with someone twice your age.  You don't have time to be self-conscious because the head of him, the leaky head of him, is tapping against your lips and your eyes roll back as you open your mouth for him.  After jumping slightly in surprise, of course.

He sighs in relief with a deigned smile, pushing his hips further.  "Fuck.  You hear that?  Nothing!  Sounds so fuckin' good, shuttin' you up."

But it's not entirely nothing, is it?  Not with your gagging, slurping up what you can but you don't know what you're doing all the way and fumbling through half of it.  Doesn't seem to faze him much.

It's obscene as it feels, him using you like this – and you don't feel an ounce of guilt when it's exactly what you want.  The switch flips on why you came to his door in the first place.  His big thumb swipes over the corner of your full mouth, "You like that, dontcha, filthy thing?"

And you hated how right he was.  You wanted to scream, kick him.  Retaliate in a way so you could still be in this submission at the same time.

Your mouth was full by the earthy taste of him, obliterating whatever feelings you had about the day.  A bad mood that he had contributions in, but it's melting from the constant thrust of his hips.  And he's keeping your head locked in place, hand gripped in the strands so you can feel your spit mingling with the underside of his cock.  Honestly, every part of his dick is covered in your spit.  It spills down your chin, threatens up your nose when you gag, leaves your eyes to water when you look up at him in a dire need to breathe fully, but he's not done with you.

Not until the loudest, lewdest pop from your mouth you've ever heard does Joel break contact completely.  Steps back until you're being observed in a patronising way.  Your gone expression.  All saliva and tears and his precum smeared over your mouth.  You can barely bring yourself to look up, but his demands seem to do the trick.

Snapping his fingers at you to get your attention, you swallow hard.  "Nuh uh.  You're not gonna get all soft on me, girl.  Wake the fuck up."

Which would be simple if he wasn't practically dragging you by your hair, making you crawl on your hands and knees until you're on your feet and you're shoved onto his couch.

All that and you're still dressed.

"Off," he's barking commands like you're a trainable being and if you were in any other state, you may reconsider this whole ordeal, but when he pushed you onto the couch your legs spread just enough for him to see the wetness smearing the cotton at the apex of your thighs and that amuses him. "not good at hidin' how much of a slut y'are."

"You think it's just you that does this to me?" You find your voice again, hoisting yourself up to sit on his couch as his cock – thick and proud – sways against the fabric caught between it.  Your tongue presses to your cheek when you make eye contact, "You're kidding yourself."

The venom drips so fluidly from your tongue, Joel doesn't make a sound.  Just peels off his clothes until he's standing there naked in his house, giving you living proof that you are kidding yourself.

The silence speaks for itself.  He is pure smug under the sight of your drooling gaze.

"It's real cute that you think y'got control over the situation n'all," the weight shifting on this couch from the cushion shaping around his knee.  Joel sits down, taking you by the scalp again to cloak you over his lap stomach-first, and you yelp in surprise when he does all of this and tugs your shorts down in one fell swoop.

With your hair in his fist, his other hand ghosts over your ass in effort to make sure you squirm for him before administering a devilishly loud spank to your ass.  "But somebody better teach you better manners.  Sure as shit itn’t your father."

You crack out a sob at that– from the contact and the truth.  You couldn't retort, you were too busy getting slap after slap against your increasingly worn ass to think about anything else.  "Lucky I ain't making y'count.  You'd have this for eternity now."

Not that it mattered anyway.  He's leaving mark after mark of his large handprint across your cheeks, probably ten more if you could even focus on anything else but finding the words to stop him.

"Please– y-you're right," tears stain your face as you bury your face in your arms.  Flinching when Joel moves, you expect another searing punishment, but instead he pulls your ass apart and you gasp at the cool air striking your cunt that's hot and wet for him.  "Joel!"

“Dirty fuckin’ girl, wet from gettin’ punished.  I talked so bad about you, and you liked it?  You’re as desperate as I thought.  Only good for gettin’ my cock wet.”  And it’s like a lever is pulled when your slutty little smile plasters over your face with him out of view.  Not that you had much time to gloat, or to experience the pleasure of living in your own fantasy because Joel’s got you pulled again.  His thick thighs spread apart when he maneuvers you so willingly to sit between his legs.  Right where he wants you.  Right where you can feel the throbbing pulse at your folds.  He tells you to take off the rest of your clothes and you would be a fool to do otherwise.

“Bad girls don’t get the luxury of bein’ opened,” that Texan drawl slips over your ear when he holds the base of his cock, slicking himself through your folds, you gasp and wriggle against him – his grip tightening harder.  Silently warning you if you make another move it’s over, you’re done.  It’s over.  All the while the searing stretch of him causes your cunt to flutter and clench around him.  It’s too much, too overwhelming, and he won’t let you adjust long enough.  “You’ll get over it,” but it’s not reassuring.  He still sounds in control despite his laboured breathing and when he can, he moves his hands to grip your hips and guide you down on him.  You scream, a knee jerk response wriggle away from him, but this position doesn’t quite allow for that.

“Be a good girl.”

That folds you, quite literally, as he moves his hips down to pound up into yours, using you like his own toy to get himself off with.  And it’s just the incredible sounds of your squelching cunt and his balls tapping against your folds.  The fucking isn’t frantic, but it certainly isn’t soft.  He’s rough with you, a hand traveling up your back to grip your hair so your neck is back in place and he lifts you upright so your back is curved, neck craned so if you tried, you could make him out – upside down.  “Poor thing couldn’t help it, had to get a daddy to take care of her.  You want that, kitten?  Wanna be used and as daddy’s little fucktoy – only good for makin’ me cum?”  his hand sneaks around to the front of you with his free hand, he presses and digs into your pubic bone to make you feel exactly where he is.  “Put a baby right here.  Make everyone know what you fuckin’ did.”

You whine, eyes rolling back at the thought.  It was so obscene, nothing like you’d ever even heard of before.  Where did he fucking learn how to talk like this?  Your brain is swimming while your sticky sweetness coats his lap, clawing at his thighs for any sort of stability, but it was dizzying how he had you.  How his grunts filled the air in between slaps like he had your hips placed at the perfect angle for him to work you.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”  His gritting teeth by the shell of your ear, he keeps you secure within your hair to snake his arm around the front of you tugging and rolling at the sensitive nubs of your nipples.  When he feels you appear to drift off, those rough hands supply another smack, but to your tits this time, your fingernails clawing into his thighs involuntarily as you squeal in surprise.  You tighten at that, fluttering around his cock and you feel it at the edge.  So close you can almost taste it.

But he knows you’re close, too, and there’s no way in hell he’s giving that to you.  Not when you’ve barged into his house like this, not when you’ve done nothing but be an insufferable brat to him since the moment he came to Jackson.

Joel hovers you over his lap, and your heels dig into the floorboard.  His hips still, keeping the very tip of his cock inside of you – you feel panic flash over your body.  “No,” it’s the first word you’ve uttered in god knows how long and it sounds desperate.  Any hope of getting an orgasm swirls down the drain, and it’s set in stone when he pushes you on your back – the lumpy couch digging into your skin.  “No, no, please.  Why!”

His eyes could burn a hole through you.  Like a hungry dog, his body hovers – shoulders stooped, head down when he pours his gaze into you.  And he likes what he sees.  Legs open and begging, willing to do anything to get him back into you.  Your cunt glistening, even in the dull light and he can tell it’s pulsing.  “Poor thing’s clampin’ around nothin’,” he teases, grunting when his knees meet the couch cushions – another tell of his age.  But you, you’re too preoccupied in taming the ache between your legs to comment.  It burns, coming back to a fixed state you realise how stretched out you were and it’s more than overwhelming.  To know you haven’t been used to completion, all hope draining from your face.

“Joel,” your breath is shaky underneath him, pupils blown and wet when you make out his features, “Joel, please.  Please, I want this.”

“Darlin’, I know you want it.  Everybody in town knows you want it,” his words make you sob a whine as they approach closer to your neck, the delicate graze of his beard dances at your pulsepoint and you shudder.  Hips raise and he’s quick to slam them back down into place.  “If you want me, ‘Joel’ ain’t whatchu say to get me.”

And if you felt hopeless before, you really do now.  Unable to do anything but debase yourself for your own pleasure.  You’d heard it earlier, the way he referred to himself with a name that brought up mixed feelings at Tommy’s.  You swallow down embarrassment, looking him in the eyes – which were faded obsidian, your fingernails dig into your own thighs as if to brace for what’s tempting to slip out of your throat.

You hated that he made you nervous.

And you hated the hold he had over you.

But he had it, there was no doubt about it.  He had it.  He had you.

Your jaw ticks forward, fully aware of your clit screaming for attention and exhale shakily.  “Please, daddy.  Please, I want this.”

“Eh,” Joel muses, shaking his head, “I don’t believe ya.  Really gotta hear the desperation in your voice.  Maybe if I,” his hand reaches for his cock, slapping the sloppy head of it against your folds and that– that sends you.  Takes you to a different destination entirely because for the first time all night there’s attention to that bundle of nerves, and he knows it.  He knows you need this in order to give everything over to him in full.  “Daddy!” you screech, pelvis jutting up in full inclination and without a single word, Joel’s cock spears into you all the way to the hilt.  All the way to your cervix.

His hands, emitting heat and wrapped largely around your hips, locks you where he wants you like some animal in heat.  It forces you to bring your legs up into a position you aren’t sure you’ve ever been in – thighs against your stomach, by your sides.  It’s so, “deep,” you whimper, head rocking as your mouth flies open and he’s delivering you thrust after thrust of pleasure so wrecking no noise comes from you.

“Is that what you needed? Fuckin' brat,”  Joel is still able to tease, but even he isn’t immune to how tight you are around him.  Your fluttering core begging for release as it moves in and out around him – as if it’s doing its own begging.  “You wanna be filled up to the brim with my cum, babygirl?  Needy fucking cunt like you only good for matin’ like this.”  Your skin burns at his words, your body convulsing as you do your best to keep it together.

That’s when Joel’s hand wraps around your throat, a line of spit falling into your mouth and you willingly drink from him.  “You hold off, you ain’t gettin’ it tonight,” you pout for a moment, not fully understanding what he means by that, but he clarifies when his hips get sharper, more precise.  As if his cock is hooked inside of you, not letting a drip of precum spill out of you against your cervix.  “Y’ain’t cummin’, but I am.”

His grip around your throat gets harder, and you swear you can see every vein in his face rise to the surface when he uses you.  You’re limp, all thoughts washed away – his cock thick and long, you aren’t even sure how he fits it all inside of you but he does.  The edge of your stomach bulges as he works you, his neck cranes back to expose his neck and it’s too much to take. For both of you.  His hot cum ropes cords inside of you, sticking to your walls.  Filling you up is an understatement with how much he has to give you.  It’s as if you can discern the moment his seed grazes your cervix in its sticky texture.  Your head is swimming at the sound of your animalistic grunts, he looks so… fucking hot like this.  His name is replaced with ‘daddy’ more easily than you care to admit.  You do try not to chase your orgasm… a part of you does, anyway.

But you’re defiant.

You can take yourself there without him telling you to, and in fact the opportunity to disobey him is just what you need to send yourself creaming all over his cock.  You gasp, eyes wide before they roll back and you’re fucking yourself on his spent cock that somehow still has life to it.  Even for his age, he can still keep it hard for you after his seed coats your insides.  “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” becomes part of your breath, and you’re shocked he doesn’t pull out of you even though his hips are still.  You don’t notice it until you come down considering you’re using him.  Did he say you could do that?  As if you’re woken up by an alarm, you jerk at the sensation of the orgasm you snuck.  Without his permission.  You look up, and his knuckles are bleached around your hips.  He looks so menacing like this, scary.  You shake your head, swallowing hard in your attempt to fix things.

But it’s too late for you.  You’re a brat at the end of the day, and he has to train you.  Make you realise the error of your ways.

His cock is still buried deep when his middle finger plays where the two of you connect.  A whine escapes you, shivering now, not quite sure what he’s going to do.  He’s lethally quiet, you aren’t sure how to react.  He’s contemplating what to do to you, he’s not met someone who’s as menacing as he is.  As unwilling to give away freedom.  Not since… his nostrils flare as he inhales.

“I told you not to do that,” Joel stating the obvious makes you clear your throat, his cock twitching inside you in the aftershocks sends your teeth to bite down on your lip and you shake your head, “I c- I couldn’t help it!” You lie, and he knows it.  Compels him to prod that middle finger just above his cock inside you and the stretch is too much.  When you reach out for his forearm, his other hand darkens over your wrist, pinning it back in a way that hurts.  You wince in tandem with it and his monstrous hook of the digit inside you.  You’re so full, “It’s too-it’s too much!” you tap at anything you can, but he’s not listening.

Instead, the pad of his finger has no problem in touching that spongy bit inside of you – especially since your cunt is stretched from his cock and he can see it.  His cum tempts to pool out of you, but he shoves it back in, working his finger inside you repeatedly but he’s just rubbing.  He’s just rolling his finger against your g-spot until you feel so overstimulated it brings more pain than pleasure.  “Came like you knew what you were doin’,” he finally remarks, thumb rolling over your clit and you can’t take it.  “Please, pl– it’s too much!  Daddy!”  That rhythm is sly, though, in making you come undone.  Again and again.  As you’re on the peak of what would be an explosive orgasm, Joel pulls out of you entirely.  His cock, his finger.  His warmth is a distant memory when he stands up, palming over his cock.  How did he get hard again?!  He would deal with that on his own time.

Your moan is choked out, thighs pressing together for any sort of… something.  A release, a grind.  You’re left panting and begging, your tits perky and heaving for him.

“What did I say, little girl?”  He climbs into his clothes, one button up at a time with his flannel.  “You won’t be cumming for a week with that fuckin’ attitude.”

You’re so lost in chasing a feeling, soon to disappear as it could arrive that all you can do is whimper and nod.  “I’m so–” his hand grips your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.  Spit covers your face, and you hum like a kitten at the feeling of his hot saliva down your cheek, “What did I fucking say about apologisin’ when you’re not sorry?”

You wipe your face, sucking the spit off your thumb with a satisfied smirk.  “Fuckin’ loved it, daddy.”

He swallows then, his head shaking in disbelief over how much of a filthy bitch you are.  “Yeah, yeah you fuckin’ did.  Belong to me now, you understand?  Gonna let everybody know what a slut you are for this cock.”

And you would be lying if you didn’t experience a swell of pride in those words.  You’d be down each other’s throats again in no time, but the look of ownership that adorns his face over you is too much not to bask in.

“A week?”  You study him, eyes wet and round, look up at him and you see his cheek twitch in response.

“Gonna be two if you keep it up.”

You let out a faint sigh, resting your head back on the armrest.  “Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he coos, leaning down to press his lips at the shell of your ear.  Fingers tucking his cum back in your hole.  He relishes in how hot you feel under his fingers.

“Now get the fuck out of my house.”

taglist: @cool-iguana - dm to be added!

[erwinsvow]

rafe’s always touching you.

the first time he did it was on your first date—dinner at a fancy restaurant on the beach followed by a walk on the soft sand. he picks you up in his truck and you’re wearing something pretty and short, how you guessed he’d like. rafe keeps a firm, yet gentle grip on your thigh while he drives.

you wonder if it’s a little forward for a first date—because after all, it’s only been a week since you first met him at the beach, when he bought you a lemonade and talked to you like he already knew everything about you, before jj interrupted. 

rafe parks his truck and hops out while you pull down the mirror in his passenger seat so you can apply another layer of lip gloss. you haven’t even undone your seat belt when he swings around, opening the door for you. you smile at him sweetly, thinking about how he’s such a gentleman. another thought floats around your head—how wrong your friends were about him. 

he takes your hand into his to help you get down, and his other hand floats around your hip incase you stumble. holds onto your wrist while the two of you walk into the restaurant, presses his fingers into your shoulder after he finishes pushing in your seat for you. during dinner, you’re sure he’d find some other way to touch you if you weren’t already playing footsie with him under the table.

after dinner he takes you for ice cream and keeps his arm swung around your shoulder while the two of you walk around the beach, watching the sunset. when he kisses you, he puts both hands on your face, holding you between them while your lips are attached to his. 

maybe it is a little forward, but you never think about it again—that’s just how rafe is. warm to the touch, deeply possessive, he likes making sure everyone knows who you belong to. you don’t dwell on it much, in fact, you like it, more than you could have imagined.

he guides you with one hand on your lower back, moves you through the crowd at the country club. everyone gets out of the way when he’s walking by, anyways, but he likes to make sure you’re not getting pushed around by some drunk idiot or star-struck waiter. with him always by your side, you feel safer, protected, at peace. no one tries to bother you anymore, with annoying boys turning around the second they see who the arm around your back belongs to. you think even adults are treating you better, with the way the lady at the shop runs around trying to cater to you, the way the waiter at dinner dashes to get you another lemonade.

you feel bad, since it feels strange. you don’t want to be treated any differently. but with the way rafe spoils you and how nice everything with him is, you wonder if you could get used to this.

you accompany him to house parties, hand rubbing your back soothingly while he’s drinking a beer. you’re half asleep on his shoulder, not used to these types of kook parties where everyone is snorting powder off of glass and mirrors instead of smoking on the beach. one of his friends says something that you can barely understand in your sleepy state, but you see him gesturing at you and hear a laugh. it’s almost automatic—rafe’s touch gets harder by tenfold. he says something low and quiet. “why’re you even looking at her?”

“just a joke, rafe, take it easy-”

“get the fuck outta here before i put your head through the table, asshole.” 

you keep him company when he’s working, or at least doing whatever it is that he calls work with barry. you sit on the couch, legs sprawled across his lap and his hand on your ankle, fingers messing with the little anklet he got you—no R pendant matching the one around your neck but rather a pretty yellow stone, rafe’s birthstone. your nose is buried in your book, flipping through the pages when you hear something that catches your attention.

“you really wanna have this talk in front of your girl, country club?” 

you could try to be inconspicuous, but it wouldn’t work for a second. rafe would see right through you if you lied to him, and as a result, you’ve never even attempted to do so.

you lower your book so your eyes are visible, glancing between your boyfriend and barry. rafe turns to look at you, fingers still on your anklet. you worry he’ll break it with the way he plays with it. then he turns, pulling out headphones from his pocket and offering them to you. you look between the two boys one more time, wondering if you should say something. you ultimately decide against it.

you put them on and blast the music, going back to your book. you only look up one more time, when rafe is gripping your ankle so hard it hurts. you jerk your foot against him, making him loosen his touch. he rubs the skin he’s just bruised the rest of the time you’re there.

when the two of you are walking back to his truck, probably headed back to his place for the night, he brings you in for a hug the way always does, arm around your neck, pulling you close. he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“you were real good in there,” he murmurs against your hair. you’re a little confused, looking up at him for some clarity. 

“hm?”

“nothing, kid. get in the car.”

he drives you home, fingers tapping on your knee the whole drive. when you get to tannyhill, he doesn’t even let your feet hit the ground before scooping you into his arms like a bride, carrying you up to his bedroom. 

he holds your hair when you get on your knees in front of him. he grips your thighs when he eats you out. but you think your favorite touch from rafe is when you’re in his lap, your tits against his chest, his arms wrapped around your back, foreheads touching and lips glued together, when every part of you is touching every part of him. 

when the two of you are done, you collapse on the bed next to him. he moves your head so you’re laying on his chest, hand resting above his heart, legs tangled with his, fingers playing with each other.

yeah, you think in your fucked-out state. i could get use to this.

[firelilyfox]

Choose Your Next Words Carefully

Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: se&ual harassment (assault) / cursing / angst / blood

Words: 2k

Summary: Paul & you were childhood friends but suddenly he distanced from you. On a night full of celebration you get into trouble & Paul protects you … but what happened two years ago?

______________________

Caladan looked even more beautiful at night. 

You are watching the peaceful waves collapsing under the balcony you are standing on. Behind the whole castle is celebrating another victory against the Harkonnen. A soft breeze lets the fabric of your dress flow in the wind and you take a deep breath of the salty air. 

It wasn’t your wish to be here tonight, but your father insisted that you would watch him getting honored for his work for Duke Leto. And you did. But when the duke’s son joined the celebration, you had to get out of there as soon as possible. 

You and Paul Atreides had a very … complicated past. 

As long as you could remember you had a crush on him and he knew it all along. When the two of you were younger, you would play everyday and make mischief all around the castle. But suddenly you barley saw him once a week and Paul acted kinda cold around you. Once you wanted to talk to him about his weird behavior, he just laughed at you and made fun of you for having a crush on him. Everybody around could hear him laughing and began to pity you for being so naive. 

The daughter of a soldier would never be good enough for a future Duke. 

You never spoke to Paul again. This was two years ago, but every time you see him at big events, your heart tightens and you become overwhelmed with sadness and anger. How could he do something like that to you? Even if he never had felt the same for you as you did for him … friends don’t hurt each other like that. 

„What are you doing out here?“, a voice asked behind you. When you turned around you saw a man standing there, looking at you with a drunk smile. It was a friend of your father. A soldier, just like him. 

„Just catching some fresh air“, you said. 

The man comes closer to you, stumbling over his own feet. His wrinkly face showed many scars from battle in the past. „It is dangerous … for a young Lady … out here.“ 

He leans towards you, but you duck away from him. „Uh.. thanks for the heads up. I will go inside … where its safer.“ 

As you turn your back again, you can hear him mumbling something about find me later, but you don’t want to keep listening to this creepy guy.  

Quickly your feet carrying you inside the great hall, where most of the people are dancing and drinking. You couldn’t see your father anywhere because you are shorter than most of the men and women here. So you decide to get on one of the stone benches to get a better view from up there. 

„These things are meant to sit on, you know?“ 

Green eyes. A crooked grin. Freckles. 

„What do you know, Atreides? Shouldn’t your royal ass be sitting on a throne or something?“

Paul chuckles. „Sassy as always. Some things never change, hm?“ 

You rolled your eyes and went back to keep on looking for your father, so you could finally leave this goddamn party. That’s when Paul joined you on the bench. 

„What are we looking for?“, he asked amused. 

You’re frowning at him. „WE are not looking for anything. I am looking for my father. And YOU should leave me alone, Atreides.“ 

Paul looks confused. „Have you forgotten my first name? It’s Paul, you know?“ He smiled again and you catch yourself almost smiling at his dumb joke. But you manage to pull yourself together before that happens. It almost felt like when you were kids. 

„Fuck off, Paul.“ You jump from the bench and trying to make a way through the crowd of drunk, dancing people. Paul follows you. 

„You tell your future Duke to fuck off? Hah! You are as brave as I remember“, he says laughing. Before you could respond anything, Paul grabs your wrist and turns you around. His other hand holding your waist and you find yourself pressed against him. The high difference forces you to look up at him. 

„What are you doing?“, you stutter. 

A smirk appears on his face, as if he know how much impact his presence has on you. „I’m dancing with you. I mean we are on the dance floor.“ 

For a moment you let yourself enjoy the feeling of being so close to him. The pressure of his hand on your lower back, his chest moving against yours. Your fingers on his bicep. Hands holding each other. This was something you always dreamed about. Your heart begins to pound like crazy. His smile faded and his gaze softened. Now he looks at you like you are the only thing that is existent. Time moves slower. Noise faded. Only you and him. 

Paul leans his forehead against yours, closings his eyes and he takes a deep breath. The moment was intimate and all you wished for at some point … but it felt wrong. 

„What has gotten into you tonight?“ You pushed him away. A hurt expression crossed his face and you almost felt bad. „Two years, Paul. Two years and now this?“ 

Without waiting for a stupid response you took off and managed to find a way through the crowd out in the hallways. Tears filled your eyes, but you are to stubborn to let them run down your face, exposing your hurt feelings. 

Desperate for some privacy you opened a small door and find an empty room with sofas. The perfect hiding spot until you’ll be able to shove down your feelings again. 

„I see. The Lady found me.“ 

A high pinched scream escaped your throat as you were grabbed roughly by the shoulders and got pushed down on one of the sofas. Your head slammed against something hard and you feel warm blood running down your cheek. 

The man from the balcony holds you down with a big smile on his face. His gaze is hidden in shadows but you recognize him. 

„Let me go! My father will behead you with his own hands!“ You scream at him, trying to get away but against his heavy body you have no chance. 

He was not listening and even if he was, he seemed not to care. The man took one hand of your shoulder to grab you by the neck to choke you and the other hand loosened up his pants. 

„No. No please. No“, you beg for him to stop. 

„Not so bratty anymore, hm? I shall teach you a lesson you little slut! I will…“ 

But his words came to stop. Slowly you opened your eyes again, as his grip around your neck got loose again. You could see a knife at his throat, forcing him to stop and not move a muscle. The hand, that was holding the knife belonged to … Paul. 

He was standing behind the man. His eyes dark and full of rage. The knife scratching the skin and making the old man bleed a little bit. 

The old guy shouted in anger. „Whoever dares to interrupt me will be punished!“ 

Paul chuckled dangerously silent and forced the man to turn around to look at him. His eyes widened in shock. „My Lord“, he whispered. „I didn’t know that you own this whore … I mean I …“ 

„If I were you“, Paul interrupted him with a deadly glance. „I would choose my next words very carefully.“ 

Paul lays more pressure on the knife and it’s cutting deeper into his skin. The man began to whimper. Before the damage would be irreversible, Paul pushed him to the ground. 

„I won’t wash my hands in your blood.“ As if he had given a silent sign, two guards came in to drag the man outside. „These guys will handle that.“ 

You look at Pauls back. He was standing there like a true leader. Like the man he became. He was not a child anymore … and neither were you. 

As the door closes again he dropped the knife and turned around to you. Faster than lighting he got down on one knee to met your eyes at the same hight. His hands cupping your face and he wipes your tears away that mixed up with the blood. 

„Does it hurt badly?“, he asked with a soft voice. The contrast to his fearless and deadly side couldn’t be any bigger. 

You shake your head. „No it’s fine.“ 

„He will be beheaded in the morning. You don’t have to worry about seeing him ever again.“ Paul tries to calm you down. His eyes holding your own captured and you weren’t able to look away. 

„Thanks. I mean …“, you shake your head again getting rid of his hands. „I should go now.“ 

You stand up and opening the door. Paul is standing right behind you, pushing the door shut again. His hand were right next to your head but you refuse tu turn around right away. 

„Please let me explain“, he whispered. Paul was so close, that you could feel his breath on your skin. You sigh but still refuse to turn around to look at him. 

„There is nothing to explain. I know everything that I need to know.“ 

„You asked me what has gotten into me tonight.“ 

You stay silent. 

Paul sighted. „My father told me that I don’t have to be married to be the next Duke.“

Confusion brings you to look over your shoulder and met his sad green eyes. The honesty in them lets you turn around. „What does that have to do with me?“ 

He smiled but it looked so sad and broken. „Everything. I … i stayed away from you on purpose, y/n.“ 

„What do you mean?“ 

„The day you told me, that you … you had feelings for me, was the same day my father told me to that I have to marry Princess Irulan in the future. I was so mad at him because I already lost my heart to someone and I … but he said that it had to be this way.“ 

„So you let out your anger about your father out on me?“, you asked angrily. 

Paul shakes his head. „No. I just thought … if you would hate me … then it would be easier for me to stay away from you.“ 

Suddenly all fell right into place. His behavior on that day two years ago made much more sense … he was cold and distant but… 

You punched him on the arm. „That still don’t give you the permission to act like an asshole!“ 

Paul smiled and nodded apologetically. „You are right but I was young and not so smart like I thought I wished to be.“ 

A moment of silence fell over the two of you. Just the eyes spoke louder than a voice could ever manage to do. 

„So … you lost your heart to someone else than your reflection in the mirror?“, you joked. 

„God I missed your sassy mouth so much!“ Paul laughed and it was the first real laughter you heard from him for such a long time. „Yeah i did. Even if my reflection is pretty stunning … nothing compares to the girl that I lost my heart and soul to.“ 

Paul gently laid his hand on your cheek making sure you keep on looking into his eyes before  he kept on talking. „I always loved you, y/n. Of course I did! How could I not love you?“ 

Tears start to fill your eyes again … but this time for a good reason. 

„You are still an asshole for behaving like that, Atreides.“ 

His smile melted your heart away. „Will you forgive me?“ 

You nod. 

Paul slowly leans towards you and when his lips met yours, there where nothing else to say. 

[i-yap]

MY FAVORITE IS DICK GRAYSON FORVER WILL BE DICK GRAYSON AND HERE IS WHY

DICK GRAYSON X Y/N ( FRUSTRATED ME EDITION)

- first of all , he is the hottest character in dc (literally the comics have written this line by line)

- he is the real one with communication issues. You think jason struggles with that? NO jason uses any chance to tell me people how much he suffered. But dick? He wears a smile, he hides everything he is feeling

- the only person who gets to see the real him is YOU. The stress, the pressure, the mommy daddy issues...cmon. and bruce prolly was the worst at raising grayson and learned from his mistakes for the rest

- dick is someone who tries to be happy. Who tries to have a normal life. Who tries not to let his issues affect him . But they do which is why he has so many fucked up relationships. But when he meets you he wants to keep you, he needs to keep you with him. So he tries yet again to open up, fix his issues, love you the way you truly deserve.

- AND let us all not pretend we are all not stressed asf in life. He is so joyful and bright and will almost never dull the mood. Car karaoke ? Done. Skinny dipping in some random lake you drive by? His suggestion. Amusement parks? He is excitedly pulling you to all the rides and WILL 100% WIN YOU THE BIGGEST TEDDY

- he is deep, he js in touch with his feelings and he knows how to take care of you. Idk abt u guys but I have issues . I want a man who gives you those words of affirmation, who makes it super obvious he likes you.

- he needs you just as much as jason or tim or damian do. He also never had genuine love, he also has been a soldier a leader the person responsible all his life. He needs yo hold you, he needs that peace and quiet away from everything he has to deal with . He wants someone he can come home to and just show how drained he is .

- he is so kind to the world but he WILL BURN IT FOR YOU . I refuse to believe any other opinion on this. No matter how big a hero this guy is...remember how he killed joker for jason? Someone he said he hated? Broke the no kill rule?? Yea imagine what he will do for you.

- and how dare u suggest he isn't jealous/ possessive. He gets so cranky..not insecure and u don't have to coddle him and avoid all other men ...but u do have to give him extra kisses

-HE IS THE REAL GREEN FLAG fuck the whole " a hero will sacrifice you for the world but a villain will burn the world for you" NOT HIM NO HE WILL KILL EVERYONE OKAY cuz how date anyone suggest taking you away from him after everything he has done for the world. You are his reward and you better remember that.

- slow waltzing in the kitchen while he sings you his favorite love song, giggling in a pretty cafe while sharing a piece of cake( he is feeding you the whole thing and will kiss you when u Ask why he isn't eating any himself) , getting tipsy and walking back home all sweet and drunk and in love. He is adventurous and wants to experience everything With you.

- best part, everyone around u will love him. I'm sorry but I like it when my bf is liked by the old ladies and my parents and my boss. He will make you the power couple, even if you aren't as "powerful". He is your biggest loudest supporter always. Always introducing you to ppl as if you cured world hunger , telling everyone just how smart and kind you are taking any opportunity to talk about You. And dancing with him at galas makes you feel like a princess

- he will get the best gifts, say the sweetest things, be the most supportive kind eyes only for you guy once he genuinely falls in love.

I love jason a lot too, and tim and bruce too. Like yes I daydream about all of them But I just hate how underrated my boy here is.

[aemondsbabe]

From Ashes, Fire | Claimant Pt 3

summary: dragons take what they want, you and your brother are no different. but what will be left to burn in the name of happiness?

pairing: dark!aemond x sister!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark aemond, angst, angst but happy ending, very cersei/jaime coded moment that's all i'll say, major character death, noncanonical death, very brief descriptions of injury, blood, i promise it's nothing graphic, reader turns to the dark side lol, piv sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), minor breeding kink, possessive aemond, possessive reader, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 8.3k oops

a/n: this is it, the grand finale! i had so much fun with this series and i hope y'all enjoy the last bit!

gif creds to @aemondtargaryensource

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🔪read part 1 and part 2 here!

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"Love is the bane of honor, the death of duty."

“Jaehaera, please,” Helaena’s voice is gentle and melodic even as she scolds her daughter, pointing at one of the straw-stuffed dolls in her tiny hands, “You must share with your brother; how about you let him play with the knight, hm?”

One of Maelor’s little fists wraps tightly around your pointer finger as you chuckle at the displeased frown on the toddler’s face when she shoves the doll in Jaehaerys’s direction, though her lips quickly lift into a smile at her mother’s praise. 

“Good, that’s very sweet of you,” your sister smiles, watching her eldest two children play, sitting cross-legged beside them on the plush blanket she’d had spread out on the grass. 

A cool breeze blows through the grassy field while you idly look around at the many red tents and campfires, observing the groups of people gathered around – knights sat at one of the many wooden tables, a few servants peel vegetables brought from the Keep, and various nobles, lady’s maids, and other court patrons shuffle about. 

Taking a deep breath, you turn your face toward the sun, cooler now as day turns to evening, and savor the first moment of peace you’ve had in nearly a week. The days since your marriage to Jace have been… eventful, to say the least, with each new duty feeling like another stab to your already fragile heart. Respite hadn’t even found you in the night, each one spent fending off your new husband’s advances with excuses of your menstrual flux having come early, headaches, and various other ailments. He was getting anxious, you could tell – each night he pushed back a little more, arguing the importance of consummating the marriage, reminding you of the vows you had both uttered in the Sept. 

But how can a vow mean much if the Gods know it was only ever a lie?

You had felt your mother’s eyes on you at every turn, watching you and your brother like a hawk. Though as the days progressed her fiery stare cooled to one of guilt – a penance for subjecting you to the same fate that had befallen her. You suspected that was why she and Rhaenyra had organized this little trip; a celebratory hunt they’d called it, to commemorate the rift between your two families finally being healed. 

“Dear, dear wife,” your oldest brother slurs, goblet clutched in one hand as he staggers toward you and Helaena, groaning when he flops down on the bench next to you. “Oh, you look… ravishing,” your lips quirk up into a smirk as he drapes an arm around your shoulders, giggling and making faces at Maelor. 

“What did I tell you,” your sister says through a huff of laughter, violet eyes finding yours, “They ignore you until they’re drunk.”

If only that were the case, you think as you force yourself to laugh in time with her. 

“That is quite rude,” Aegon chastises, brows furrowed in offense while he takes a messy swig of wine, a few red drops run down his chin. “Do you see how she treats me?” He pouts, leaning closer to you with a wry grin, “The deed is done though, yes? Bastard knew where to put it?”

“Aegon!” Helaena hisses, swatting at his knee. 

The two fall into a playful round of bickering, thankfully leaving you out of it. With a sigh, you let your gaze wander again, tumbling thoughts muffling your siblings voices. 

“It’s not as hard as it looks, here,” Daemon’s voice catches your attention and you watch as he points a knife at the belly of a deer he and Lucerys had hunted earlier in the day, showing the boy where to cut, “Get your knife in there – good, like that, and now just cut downwards, one clean movement…” You glance away as blood spills from the beast’s abdomen, staining the grass below it.

Looking over the treeline, you try to ignore the sick feeling building in the pit of your stomach, though you know it won’t be settled until Aemond’s back at camp. Biting at your lip, you let out an irritated huff when you can’t make out any movement in the distance, no sign of your brother or Ser Criston, even your husband. 

You’d only spoken to Aemond once since your marriage – a hushed conversation hidden away in an alcove when the two of you had a spare moment alone after supper. He’d held you while you’d cried against the crook of his neck, shushing you and running a soothing hand up and down your back. You remember the way his jaw felt, teeth clenched as he rested it atop your head, letting you tuck yourself into him while he vibrated with barely contained rage. 

“I can’t do this, I can’t,” you lamented, peering up at him with a mournful sob as your fingers clung to the dark jacket he wore, “They’re planning on going back to Dragonstone! Dragonstone, Aem!”

“Shh, little one,” his hands had cupped your cheeks, wiped away your tears with calloused thumbs, “I’m not letting them take you.”

His words had held such conviction, you’d wanted nothing more than to believe him, yet you’d shaken your head anyway. “I don’t think there’s any stopping them, this time,” your breath had hitched with each word, “You heard Rhaenyra, they’re leaving as soon as we’re back from the hunt and she would never agree to leave Jacaerys here, never.” 

You had known you were spiraling, head spinning as you’d looked up at him, and yet the words tumbled out anyway. “I hate him, I wish he’d just… just disappear!” It was a childish little jab and yet, your heart had leapt into your throat the moment you’d said it. You were expecting to feel the clawing ache of guilt gnaw at your stomach, however, a weightlessness followed. You’d never felt lighter than in that moment – tucked away in the shadows, a secret you’d harbored since childhood finally set free.

Aemond had stayed quiet, but you saw the way his violet eye sparkled, the gears turning in his head.

Your words had echoed in his head, calling out to him like a siren’s song – the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. 

Finally convinced that the three men are truly not just going to materialize at the edge of camp, your gaze shifts to where your mother and Rhaenyra sit, huddled together beside one of the many firepits. Bouncing little Maelor on your lap, you’re vaguely aware of Aegon and Helaena idly chatting beside you, something to do with how your brother believes some such thing about the Small Council is a waste of time – a frequent complaint of his since taking the throne. 

You’re hardly listening though, head cocked to the side while you watch the two women laughing and animatedly conversing; they remind you of the young girls at court – youthful and carefree, too wrapped up in one another to notice much around them. 

That’s why she let them go together, that shadowy voice in the back of your head hisses, Too distracted to know better. You clench your jaw, only halfway aware of the stinging pain at your cuticle as you dig a nail into it.

“What say you to accompanying me on a hunt, nephew?” Aemond had asked earlier in the afternoon, voice low as he slunk over to where you, Jace, and your mothers had been sitting at one of the wooden tables, picking through a light lunch the cooks at the Keep had prepared.

“Aemond,” Alicent had sighed wearily, leaning heavily on her elbows while Rhaenyra regarded your brother with a cool indifference – evidently unaware of your family’s tensions. 

“What? I merely wish to bond with my dearest sister’s new husband.”

“Uncle,” Jace had finally spoken up, pointedly grasping one of your hands that had sat on the table, “As much as I would love to accompany you, don’t you think it a bit unwise for only the two of us to go? If I remember correctly from my youth, your father used to take a whole host of men into the woods with him…” 

“Do you not think yourself man enough to take on a measly buck, nephew?”

“Aemond!”

“Don’t fret, mother. ‘Twas only a joke, a tasteless one, I admit,” your hackles had raised at that, at how quickly he had stood down, so wholly unlike your brother, “Besides, I’ve taken the liberty of asking Ser Criston to accompany us as well.”

It was then, at the mention of the knight, that Rhaenyra had leaned closer to Alicent, the two of them laughing softly and sharing knowing glances while your half-sister whispered into her ear. 

“Surely the three of us are more than capable of subduing a deer or two, don’t you think?” 

Jace had balked at that, sighing heavily as his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly. 

“I think it sounds like a wonderful idea,” you had coached your lips into a tight smile when you interjected, “Doesn’t that sound like a lovely idea, mother?”

“Hm?” She had blinked, finally parting from Rhaenyra, the ghost of a smile still on her lips. 

“For Ser Criston to accompany Jace and Aemond, to go hunting with them.”

“Well, I –”

“Surely that would be safest, yes?” You pushed, glancing at Jace before locking eyes with Aemond, “A knight with them, a Kingsguard no less.” 

“I think it sounds like a fine idea,” Rhaenyra had smiled, squeezing one of your mother’s hands, “They should take the time to bond, no? Savor it while we’re together these last few days.” 

“Yes… yes, a fine idea,” she had immediately agreed, always swaying to your half-sister. 

“Wonderful,” your brother murmured, a slow smile spreading across his lips as he clasped his arms behind his back, “I’ll have Ser Criston ready the horses.” With that, he had stalked away, giving you one final glance. 

“You truly think this a good idea?” Your husband had questioned, turning to you while your mothers got lost in yet another hushed conversation.

“Of course!” You had nodded, clasping one of his hands in both of yours, “Aemond is… odd with his affections. This is just his way of attempting to rectify things, I’m sure of it.” 

“I suppose…,” he had sighed, running a hand through his dark hair.

“It’ll be fine,” you had urged, going so far as to lean over and press a kiss against his cheek, one of the scant few times you had initiated any affections. 

Those words had echoed in your head while you watched the three men sheath their swords and load various bows and arrows onto their horses, the midday sun suddenly feeling much too warm against your skin. 

It’ll be fine, you had reminded yourself for the millionth time when they set off, horses galloping along a narrow path that led into the Kingswood, He’s not letting them take me, it’ll be fine. 

“Oh, shit,” Aegon whispers beside you, nearly dropping his goblet. 

You quickly follow his eyeline, looking to where he stares at one of the small paths that lead into the camp – the sight wrenching a hitched gasp from your throat. 

A hush seems to fall over the entirety of the camp, only for the quickest of seconds, before chaos erupts. Aemond stands before one of the horses, a grey one you recognize as Jace’s, steadying it while Criston pulls your husband from the saddle, smearing the side of the animal with thick streaks of red. 

Daemon quickly runs over to assist while you hastily hand Maelor back to Helaena, hardly looking in her direction as you do. 

“Jace? Jacaerys?!” Rhaenyra calls, picking up her skirts as she sprints over, violet eyes wide with terror, “What is it? What’s happened?”

Every noise sounds muffled when you make your way over to the huddle of commotion, Alicent following closely behind. A strange detached sensation fills you while you watch Criston and Daemon lay Jace down on a nearby bench, blood immediately soaking into the silk fabric of the pillows. 

It feels as if everything is happening both too quickly and too slowly all at once – a few of the other knights rush forward, hastily pulling his tunic out of the way before pressing stark white medical linens to the gaping cut on his side. They bark orders over his body, yelling for the servants to bring water and more linens. 

You feel your mother and Helaena grabbing at your arms and it’s only then you realize you’re shaking, swaying in place like a leaf on a branch; you know they’re talking to you but their words are dulled by the rushing of blood in your ears.

Somewhere in your periphery, you register the sound of Daemon’s voice, thick with desperation as he shouts question after question at Criston, “What happened? When? How? How long ago? How could you, you were supposed to protect him?!” They blend together, echoing through the haze in a roaring hum. 

Distantly, you register the feel of another warm body pressing into the small pack you find yourself a part of. Helaena shushes someone next to you and your gaze tears itself away from the pools of crimson gathering on the grass just long enough to realize that it’s Luke. Your heart breaks at that, a sharp pang in your chest at the fact that the poor boy is distressed enough to seek comfort from your family, of all places. 

“No! No, no, no!” Rhaenyra’s wails slice through the fog clouding your mind in such an exacting manner that your knees buckle, “Jace, Jace, look at me, please? Sweetling, please look at me!” She sobs, leaning over her son, one hand cradling his cheek. 

Unseeing brown eyes stare, unblinking, up at the hazy orange sky while yours focus solely on a single, paralyzing flash of violet. 

He’s not letting them take me, it’ll be fine. 

The Sept is eerily quiet, normal for this time of night but unsettling all the same; the occasional fizzling noises of the dozens of flickering candles is the only way you’re able to discern that time hasn’t simply halted. Pale moonlight shines in through the windows, bathing the floor in a star-shaped pool of light and making the whites of the painted eyes resting atop Jace’s face glow like beacons. 

You had picked out the stones and painted the eyes on them yourself, taking them from a spot in the gardens you knew he had favored when you were children and spent hours sourcing the pigments to make just the right shade of brown – one that reminded you of the rich chocolates that had been imported from Essos for your betrothal feast. 

“A wife’s duty,” your mother had said.

Rhaenyra had glared at you the whole time; silently, you wondered if she somehow knew it wasn’t duty that drove you – only atonement. 

Atonement, your mind echoes as you sit upon the cool stone steps beneath the Seven-Pointed Star, leaning your head against the bannister as you force yourself to look at his body, still atop black silks. 

Must one feel guilt to atone? Must I atone for not feeling it? When will it end?

Those questions had plagued you in the days since Jace died, bled out like a hunter’s boon in the field by the Kingswood. They’d settled over you like a fever, an ever-present haunting ache, made only worse by the soft, sinful voice in the back of your head that whispered the truth – that you didn’t care, that you don’t even now. 

You hadn’t cared, even as blood seeped from the gash at his side, even as you forced yourself to kneel by his still warm body and press gentle kisses to his forehead – the performance of a good wife. 

You hadn’t cared in the carriage ride back to the Keep, letting your mother and your sister hold you while you cried – I’m sad, I’m sad, I’m crying because I’m sad, I’m crying because I should be sad.

And you hadn’t cared when Aemond had come to you in the dead of night, had slipped into your chambers – your chambers – through one of the many hidden passageways in the old castle. 

“How?” You had asked, tracing patterns onto the pale skin of his bare chest while the two of you laid tangled in your silk sheets. 

“A boar,” he answered plainly, speaking through a sigh while running his fingers over the thigh you had draped across his hips, “Just as I’ve told you the last four times you’ve asked.”

“Aemond,” you sighed in that same tired tone your mother so often used; your eyes had narrowed when you saw the corner of his lips just barely twitch up into a smile; were it any other time, he would’ve made a cheeky comment about the similarity. 

“I’ve told you,” his grip tightened ever so slightly on your thigh and his other hand had grasped at your chin, guiding your eyes to his, “We had been tracking a buck, had gotten close and dismounted our horses, and had, I assume, stumbled into the beast’s territory and it charged at us.”

“Brother,” you had whispered, shaking your head and cupping his cheek, “Have you forgotten that I can tell when you lie?” 

He had stayed silent for a long while at that, jaw clenched while he stared at some point off in the distance, lips drawn into a tight line. Eventually, you had laid your head down, resting your cheek on his shoulder while you tried to accept that you wouldn’t be getting the truth that night, if ever.

It was only then that he had spoken.

“Please, let me protect you.” 

“Protect me?” You had looked up, brows furrowed as you studied his face, “From what?”

“From the law –”

“Our brother is king, if he says it was not murder, if he says it was an accident, which he already has done, then no one will question his –”

“Fine, then,” he had snapped, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “From the damn Gods! I…” He trailed off, sighing heavily while he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“... the Gods?”

He’d finally looked at you again and your heart had pinched meanly in your chest when you saw tears gathering in his violet eye, “They will judge me harshly for what I’ve done, whenever the time comes, but… I will not subject you to the same fate.”

You had scoffed at that, had rolled your eyes when he looked away shamefully and had climbed atop him then, straddled his hips and turned his face toward yours, “I don’t give a shit about the Gods.” 

“What?”

“I don’t,” you repeated, leaning down until your forehead touched his, “If they were good Gods, if they cared, they would not have subjected me to that sham of a marriage in the first place. They would’ve guided our mother rightly, but they didn’t.”

“Sister, I –”

“And I hate that our nephew paid for that, Aemond, I truly do, but I am the one who told you to do it.”

He had shaken his head while a mournful peal of laughter clawed its way out of his throat, “You didn’t tell me to do any–”

“Perhaps not directly,” you interjected, smiling sadly while you cupped both of his cheeks in your hands, running a thumb over the scar beneath his eye, “But I did. I could’ve told you not to, could’ve said I didn’t mean it, could’ve cautioned our mother against letting him go with you, but… I didn’t.”

“No… no, I suppose you didn’t,” he sighed, swallowing thickly as he tried in vain to blink away tears.

“I didn’t,” you echoed, your words hushed and cooed, like a mother soothing an infant, “I know what you’re capable of, I knew it then, and I didn’t.”

He nodded, his breath stuttered in his throat as a single tear rolled down his cheek. 

“Because I knew you’d protect me… and you did.” 

“I did,” he mumbled, nodding up at you as his face twisted and a small sob bubbled from his lips, “I did, I did it. I did it, I did. For you, for us.” 

“I know,” you murmured sweetly, stroking a hand over his long hair while you pressed sweet kisses against his forehead. You held him as he cried, huddled together in the dark of your chambers 

And you hadn’t cared when you realized you were smiling. 

“The hour is quite late, little one,” the suddenness of his voice makes you jump, though you settle quickly. 

“So it is,” you smile and look over your shoulder, tilting your head up while he walks down the steps to join you, “The hour of ghosts, yes? Fitting.” 

He huffs as he sits beside you before regarding you with a slight smirk, “I suppose it is,” he murmurs, only sparing the red and black draped body on the altar a passing glance.

“Why are you here?”

“I was looking for you… Hel said you would probably be here.”

“Mm,” you nod, idly running a finger over the pattern on your skirts, finding a morbid sort of beauty in the way the rich black silks glimmered in the candlelight. 

“Why are you here?” Aemond asks, eye following the line of your profile. 

“Praying.”

Without looking, you can practically feel him rolling his eye beside you, huffing a little breathy laugh again, “Have you forgotten that I can tell when you lie, sweet sister?”

Hearing your own words from the night before parroted back to you pulls a laugh from you as well, though you wince as your giggle echoes throughout the Sept. “It’s funny,” you sigh, glancing about the cavernous space before finally looking at him, “This is the only place where no one wants to be.” 

He hums next to you and nods his head, lets the two of you sit in silence for a moment before you continue. 

“I don’t have to pretend when I’m here.” 

“Pretend?” 

Biting at your bottom lip, you nod and lean into his touch when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “That I’m sad… that I feel anything, really,” you sigh, breathing the words more so than saying them, “All Rhaenyra does is cry, Daemon is ready to strangle anything that moves, Lucerys is despondent to the point of being mute. Even our own mother cries for him and I cannot muster a single tear that isn’t a farce.”

Your eyes trail back over to Jace and you regard him with a mournful stare, staying silent for a long moment as you try to will yourself to feel sad, to feel angry, to feel guilty… yet nothing comes.

“Everyone grieves differently,” Aemond mumbles beside you, though his words only serve to make you more bitter, “Perhaps, in time –”

“In time nothing will happen,” you snap, grimacing at the harshness in your voice, “I’m not sad and I am… I’m tired of pretending I am.” You murmur, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

Aemond is quiet for a long while, though you can feel the energy radiating off of him in waves – you’ve always been able to tell when he has a lot on his mind. You’re content to simply let him think, taking his silence as a cue that it’s your turn to let him sort through things. 

“You… are happy, though? Yes?” He finally asks after several long minutes, going strangely rigid next to you as if he’s afraid of your answer, “I know you say you aren’t sad but…”

“Aemond,” you sigh, sitting up and staring at him as a slow, creeping smile spreads across your face, “I have never been happier.”

“Truly?”

“Yes!” You quickly shift yourself on the stairs, turning yourself more toward him and placing a gentle hand on top of his thigh, “Big brother, you saved me.”

He opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him get a word in edgewise before the emotions you’ve been bottling up over the last few days finally spill over and you practically throw yourself into his lap, straddling his hips. 

“Brother, I've been tethered to him since I was eight and you have freed me from that,” you say softly, voice hardly carrying in the air. Slowly, carefully you pull his eyepatch off, the only one ever allowed to do so; there is a sadness in your smile when you gently trail your fingers over the crease of his scar, “We both lost something that night and have suffered for it ever since.”

Without another word, you press your lips to his and savor the groan your kiss pulls from him. His hands grab at your hips in the same instance yours card through his hair while your lips move together in a practiced rhythm. 

Impatient, one of your hands travels down his chest and stomach, though you hardly have time to pull at the hem of his dark tunic before he grabs your wrist, stopping you. 

“Aemond,” you huff, fighting against his grip. 

“Surely you don’t mean to defile this place in such a way,” he murmurs, violet eye sparkling as if he were challenging you, even as he glances over your shoulder, “What would your dear husband think?

You grin at the lecherous smirk on his lips, heart pounding in your chest as a familiar ache settles at the apex of your thighs. You give one final glance over your shoulder before turning back to him with a dismissive shrug. “Husband in name only,” you remind him, yanking your hand out of his grasp and trailing your fingers over the growing bulge beneath his trousers, “I have only ever been devoted to you.”

A rough growl leaves his lips and he clenches his jaw, narrowing his eye. “We will burn for this, sweet sister,” he huffs, pale cheeks flushing while he stares up at you, one hand still settled on your hip as the other comes up to cup your jaw. 

“The Seven can have their say,” your cunt clenches at the way he looks at you – surprise, lust, even reverence giving such an intensity to his gaze that it nearly knocks the wind from your lungs, “The Old Valyrian Gods can as well, I don’t care. Aemond, I don’t.”

Your hand finally, blessedly, pulls free the ties at the top of his trousers and you quickly find his length. The sharp grunt that’s wrenched from his throat when your hand wraps around it echoes through the Sept, each iteration of it making the fire in your belly burn brighter and brighter. 

He doesn’t attempt to stop you when you plunge a hand beneath the fabric of your black skirts and hastily tug your smallclothes out of the way, he merely studies you in awe, as if watching a newly hatched dragon spread its wings for the first time. His gaze makes you shiver, though you dare not look away.

“What do you care about, little one?” He murmurs suddenly, unable to help himself from glancing between your bodies, licking his lips while he watches you use your fingers to prepare yourself as you rub your own slick through your folds. 

“You,” you whisper, shuddering at the way you both gasp at the same time when you rut against his already throbbing length, “You are the only god I’ve ever worshiped, big brother.”

A loud groan bursts free of his lips at that and the hunger in his eye nearly catches you alight, and yet he still grabs at your hips tightly, preventing you from sinking onto his length – so out of his element, wholly unused to being taken in such a way. “Come, let us go to my chambers,” he tries, breathing your name against your neck as he leans up, “Where I can take you properly, hm? No risk of anyone interrupting…”

Undeterred, you simply shake your head and lean forward, pressing your lips against his in an eager, near feral kiss. It’s mostly teeth and tongues and thankfully, it’s enough to shock him into loosening his grip, just enough for you to take what you want. You bite at his bottom lip when you sink down onto his length, hard enough to taste iron, making him growl into the kiss, the sound of it deepening to a low groan at the feel of your tight cunt around him. 

The feel of his cock stretching you open somehow only gets better each time and leaves you gasping in his lap, your hands grabbing at his shoulders for leverage while you begin grinding yourself against him, impatient and ravenous. “Ohh, f-fuck,” you curse, squeezing your eyes shut while your walls flutter around him. 

Aemond’s chest heaves under your hands while he stares up at you, lips parted ever so slightly as breathy groans spill, unbidden, from them. Opening your eyes, your gaze is immediately drawn to a little smear of red beside his mouth and you lean forward – licking his pale skin clean without a second thought. 

“Little minx,” he smirks, meanly grabbing at your hips again and bucking up into you. He huffs a soft laugh at the sharp moan that bursts from you, sounding louder still in the large open space of the Sept; there’s a dangerous, challenging gleam in his eye that makes you shiver. “Go on, then,” he rasps, trailing a hand up from your hip to cup the underside of your breast, his touch warm even through the bodice of your gown, “Worship your god.”

A soft, stuttered moan wrenches itself from your lips at that and you quickly obey, staking your claim over him. As you find your rhythm, rutting wildly in his lap, the only sounds echoing off the walls are that of panted breaths and the slick, wet noises from where the two of you connect. “You’re mine,” you breathe, leaning forward to bite at his throat, determined to mark him in as many ways as possible, “Y-You’ve always been mine, Aemond.” 

He nods his head, hands scrambling at the ties on your bodice, determined to free your breasts. “I’m yours?” He taunts, sighing victoriously when he finally manages to practically rip the top of your gown open; his tongue darts out, wetting his lips at the sight of them and he allows himself a few seconds to appreciate the way they bounce so enticingly with each of your determined movements, “Show me, then… show me who I belong to, sweet sister.”

Something snaps inside you then, breaking and clicking perfectly into place all in the same breath; the feeble thing that was holding the dam inside of you shut disappears. Whatever greedy darkness Aemond has always harbored within himself has been slowly seeping into you since the night of your betrothal feast and now, it seems, it has finally settled into your bones as well. It’s as if he can sense it in the same instance you do and gives a subtle nod of his head, commanding you to give in. 

With renewed vigor, you grind against him harshly, pressing your hips as far down onto him as you can manage until you can feel his cock pressing against the entrance to your womb. The thought of him there, of the possibility of his seed catching, of the possibility that it may already have, spurs you on further. 

“I would kill for you, too,” you say lowly through clenched teeth, licking up the side of his neck until you can whisper into his ear, “I’ll do anything to have you, my love, I don’t care what it is.”

A low groan reverberates from within his chest, both of you all but snarling as you move together; his hips rut up against yours, unable to hold still any longer, and he bites a path down your neck until he reaches the softness of your breasts. You gasp as he teases at one nipple, flicking at it with the tip of his tongue while his fingers toy with the other one, only to cut yourself off with a loud moan when his lips seal around it. 

“I would burn this city to the fucking ground if that’s what… what it took, brother,” the words tumble from your lips when you card your fingers through his hair, cradling the back of his head and holding him against your chest. Your head tilts down, heart pounding in your chest while you watch him savor the feel of your warm flesh in his mouth; his violet eye snaps up and his gaze bores into yours, making your cunt clutch greedily at his length. 

Feeling the knot building quickly in your belly, aided by the way your sensitive pearl brushes against the small patch of hair at the base of Aemond’s cock, you only grow more needy – craving confirmation that he is yours, that no one will be able to take him from you again. Your breath catches in your throat when you recall a conversation the two of you had had a few nights ago, the night of Jace’s death.

The two of you had been cuddled in your bed together, panting in sweat-damp sheets, when he had cupped your cheek and turned your face to his. 

“What is it?” You asked, familiar with the faraway look in his eye – God’s knew where he could’ve been in that moment.

“Marry me.”

His whispered demand had knocked the air from your lungs then, the whole world may as well have come to a grinding halt on its axis. “Aemond, we must wait, you know this. I hate it as much as you do but –”

“We need to wait for a Westerosi wedding, yes,” he murmured, leaning over you and shushing you with a soft kiss, “Too soon and it looks suspicious.”

“But –”

“But… a wedding in the tradition of our house need not wait, little one,” the determination in his eye had shocked you then, had warmed you from the inside out, “Our sister and her cunt of a husband hardly waited until Laena and Laenor were cold before they married… we could do the same.”

You had stayed quiet after that, too much death and change and uncertainty clouding your mind to give him an answer, and yet you knew he was right. Rhaenyra and Daemon had married in secret, so soon after Laenor’s sudden passing that it had always seemed a bit odd to you. Yet, no one ever questioned it; your own father had accepted it without so much as a blink, writing the marriage into law with no fuss. Aegon would do the same for you, you felt certain. 

Nothing was stopping you, nothing that mattered, anyway. 

That thought fuels you now as you rock on Aemond’s lap, both of you barreling toward your eventual ends. Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging him away from your breast despite his growl of displeasure. Just as he had with you, you cup his cheeks, focusing his attention on you. 

“Marry me.”

The rhythm of his hips hitches at your words and he fucks up into you harshly, moving you more desperately against him as another loud, guttural moan echoes through the chamber. 

“Tonight,” you continue, brows furrowing as you stare at him, greedily drinking him in, “I cannot wait any longer, brother, tonight, please…” 

A vicious, conquering smirk grows on his lips, white teeth gleaming in the low candlelight like a snarling dog. “You wish to be mine, is that it?” He teases, reaching between your two writhing bodies to rub hungrily at your pearl, savoring the pretty breathy moans he earns. 

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish speaking as an unrelenting, all consuming possessive ache starts spreading out from your heart, flowing through your blood vessels like fire. “I don’t wish it,” you pant, forehead resting against his while the wildfire burning in your belly threatens to burn you whole, “I told you, I would kill for you and… and, fuck, I swear it. A-Aemond, no one will have you ever again, never, none except me…”

Your words descend into a barely intelligible murmur as you finally let go, pushed suddenly over the edge at the thought of being so tightly bound together that no one would be able to tear the two of you apart again. Your brother growls again at the feel of your cunt pulsing around him, the movements spurring him toward his own end. 

He grabs at you when he follows you into oblivion, holding you against him as if you’d disappear otherwise. The feel of his spend spilling into you, filling you, nearly sends you over the edge again and you cling to him just as harshly, holding him while he trembles beneath you. 

“You are a vicious little thing,” he says softly after some minutes, holding you against his chest while the two of you catch your breaths.

“I learned from the best.”

He only sighs at that but you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smiling. “I would do it again for you,” he mumbles, eye fixed on Jace, “I would do it a thousand times over.”

He speaks in a reverent whisper, promises of death and destruction as sweet as a prayer on his lips. 

Aemond’s hand is warm in yours as he leads you through the winding corridors below the Red Keep, the flickering light from the torches lining the walls making the various statues and reliefs dance in your periphery. 

“I’ve always hated that he’s down here, stowed away,” he murmurs, yet his voice still carries some among the stone hallways.

“Mm,” you hum in agreement, glancing into each shadowy alcove you come across while you try to ignore the wild beating in your chest – the way your heart clenches at the thought of finally being so close to what you’ve always wanted. “Yes, he should be out in the sun, somewhere he can be celebrated.”

The old cellars under the Keep have always seemed so haunting to you, so cold and empty. The thought of the walls down here being lined with the ashen remains of generations upon generations of your ancestors had never failed to send a shiver down your spine. Yet, they unfold before you now like paradise; even the still, musty air begins to smell as sweet as honeyed wine. 

For the briefest of seconds, guilt joins you – walks alongside you, invisible like the Stranger. A stuttered heartbeat, that’s all and then it’s gone, at the thought that Jace would join them tomorrow, still warm from Vermax’s fire. 

How ironic, you think, glancing up at your brother and admiring the way the light gleams on his sapphire eye, That a place that holds so much death would be where our lives finally begin.

“I don’t want to wait any longer,” you’d said again, retying your bodice while Aemond tucked himself back into his trousers and searched for his eyepatch.

“Nor do I,” he agreed, stuffing the small scrap of fabric into a pocket – the streets of King’s Landing would be deserted enough at this time of night that he could get away without wearing it. “Tensions are bound to rise after tomorrow, after everything is said and done; I don’t want to leave anything to chance.”

You had nodded and followed him out of the Sept, through one of the many old, forgotten tunnels that only a scant few knew existed, the list of which definitely didn’t include the guards stationed at the front of the building who had escorted your carriage earlier that evening. 

While he had helped you onto the back of his horse, the two of you shared a knowing look, each of you already thinking the same thing. 

Turning down one final corridor, your heart thuds in your chest as you’re finally met with Balerion’s petrifying gaze and, just like every other time you’d been in his presence, a little huff of reverence leaves you. Your eyes dance over the rows of his razor sharp teeth, gleaming in the glow of dozens of candles, and you can’t help but imagine the horrors those jaws have inflicted, the pain they wrought while subduing the continent – all in your family’s name. 

“Targaryens have always taken what we’ve wanted,” Aemond murmurs beside you, staring up at the gargantuan skull with just as much respect as you are, “Tamed our desires in fields of fire.”

“And rivers of blood,” you turn your heads at the same time, soft smiles on your lips when your eyes meet, like you’re sharing sweet words of love rather than painting pictures of horrors. 

Perhaps that is what wrath is for us, you wonder, your eyes flicking between violet and sapphire when you turn toward your brother, What is death if not the sweetest of devotions?

He takes your hands in his, glancing down when your fingers intertwine before looking back up at you; you can feel yourself blushing under his intense gaze, heart squeezing in your chest as he looks at you like that in and of itself is an honor. There’s such softness in his eye, you would think him incapable of violence if you didn’t know better. 

“You truly wish for this?” He questions one last time, needing to be sure. 

“I’ve told you, I do not wish,” your hands squeeze his, “I need this, Aemond… I would kill for you, for this – for us. Anything, just as you did.” 

Your voice trembles when you speak, the intensity of your hushed promises making your head spin because you would. The want you feel, that you have always felt, is not some soft yearning thing. It’s not so simple as some mere whisper uttered in the dead of night at a holy altar while your skin is awash with the glow of candlelight, no. 

No, your want is something far more insidious – something deep-seated. An oppressive, clinging thing that has always coaxed you further and further down into that shadowy part of yourself; the part that has always reminded you too much of him. 

The demon, lurking in your periphery, that has always begged you to look, has tempted you since childhood with the sweetest of promises, finally rejoices. 

Aemond nods, a satisfied smile pulling at the corner of his lips, and you watch as he lets go of one of your hands to unsheath his dagger. The sight of the worn leather handle makes you smile bashfully, though your core clenches all the same, and you gasp when you feel another drop of his seed soak into your smallclothes. 

“You know the words?”

Again, he nods and your head cocks to the side curiously when a wash of pink grows on his pale cheeks; he smiles again and fixes you with that same intense stare. “I used to spend hours reading them, over and over, when we were children,” he whispers, leaning closer to you like he’s revealing some deep, dark secret, “I always wanted to get them perfect for you.” 

A little peal of laughter echoes through the cellars before you swallow thickly, trying to tamper the tightness at the back of your throat as the backs of your eyes sting, tears pooling in your waterline. He cups your cheek and you smile when he brushes one away, a pleased hum leaves his lips when you nod. 

Aemond raises the dagger, glancing between its shining blade and your lips while you ready yourself, one hand clenching at the black silk of your skirts. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises. 

You hold stock-still, gasping when he presses the cool edge of it against your lower lip, yet your eyes don’t leave his when he finally cuts – nicking your delicate flesh just enough to draw blood before offering you the dagger. Grasping it, you mirror his steps exactly, just as careful with him. 

Setting the dagger to the side, you both reach up at the same time, swiping a thumb over your own lip before reaching out. Your arms intertwine when you brush each other’s foreheads, leaving behind two crimson lines. 

His gaze never breaks from yours as he takes the blade again and carefully cuts his palm, holding it out to you again and waiting while you do the same, gasping at the sharp sting. Finally, the two of you join hands, blood mingling together as a few drops of it splatter on the stone floor as Balerion bears witness to your union. 

“Hen lantoti ānogar, va syndroti vāedroma, mēro perzot gīhoti, elēdroma iārza sīr,” he recites, murmuring the words with care, making sure to enunciate each syllable, to make the vows unmistakeable to whichever ghosts may be listening, “Izulī ampā perzī, prūmī lanti sēteksi, hen jeny māzīlarion,” (Blood of two, joined as one, ghostly flame, and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires, a future promised in glass.)

Aemond pauses, taking a breath as he squeezes your hand with his, echoing your smile.

“Qēlossa ozūndesi, syndroro ōñō jēdo, ry kīvia mazvestraksi,” he finishes, all but breathing the last few words as his eye grows misty. (The stars stand witness, the vow spoken through time, of darkness and light.)

The two of you stand still for a moment like you’re waiting for the world to crash down around you and you can feel his heart beating in time with yours as your palms press together, both of you seemingly in shock at finally, finally having everything you’ve ever wanted. 

You can’t tell who moves first but suddenly you’re crashing against him, dagger clanging as it hits the floor, while the two of you clutch at one another desperately, uncaring of the blood smearing on your clothes. 

Your lips press against his like they’re a lifeline and you moan at the touch, swiping your tongue over his while you grab at the lapels of his jacket. His hands cup your cheeks, staining one with red, before carding through your hair. 

“Gods,” he groans, resting his forehead against yours while the two of you pant, breathing out soft laughs. “My little wife…” He says the word slowly, lets it drag over his tongue. 

“Husband,” you reply between soft kisses to his cheek, head spinning at how a word that once had to be dragged from you, that had scraped against your skin like thorns, now felt like silk slipping cooly over you. 

Your brother growls deep in his chest and his eye flutters shut for a second before his hands are at your waist again and he’s walking you backwards, only a few paces, until you’re pressed against one of the stone columns surrounding the great dragon’s skull. Though your landing is soft, it wrenches a gasp from you all the same but you don’t have time to question his intent before his lips are on yours again.

You moan into the kiss, matching each of his deep groans with one of your own as your tongues tangle together. “Aemond,” you pant when he begins trailing kisses down across your jaw and neck, “What –”

He nips at your cleavage then and you can feel him smirking at the loud whine he pulls from you, soothing the skin after with a sweet kiss before sinking to his knees before you. The sight is enough to make you weak – the man that loves you more than eternity itself, who loves you enough to do terrible, monstrous things, kneeling at your feet and staring up at you like you are his salvation. 

Your hands tangle in his soft hair while he pulls at your skirts, pushing them up and out of the way, kissing your thighs as he goes. “You had the chance to worship at your altar, sweetest little wife,” he pants, groaning when he pushes your smallclothes to the side and licking his lips at the sight of your cunt, still wet with your combined spend, “Now let me worship at mine.”

That’s the only warning you get before he dives in, lapping at your center with a loud, satiated growl. Your head thuds back against the column while your eyes are fixed, half-lidded, on Balerion, on the fire that surrounds him. 

You understand, then – the curtains of fire that blanketed the continent were necessary to conquer it, just as blood was necessary to bind the two of you. Perhaps one day you’ll be called to answer for that, but even then you would do it a thousand times over; even if the dark, shadowy parts of yourself, of him, lead to the deepest pits of the Seven Hells. You would do it, again and again, for him. 

You were always meant to burn together.

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

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[surielstea]

Give ‘em a show

Based on this request.

Pairing: High Lord!Eris x High Lady!Reader

Summary: The autumn court celebrates the equinox with a great rite of their own, what happens when the High Lord finds out Reader left the Forest House in search for him?

Warnings: Smut | minors dni | p in v | reader and Eris are both aroused by a higher power (?) | breeding kink | riding | public sex (on throne) | dirty talk | praise | cream pie | multi-orgasm

A/N: Sorry this took me forever, but I’m really happy with how it turned out so I hope you guys enjoy! 🧡🧡

6.2k words

It was the most festive day of the year in autumn, the equinox. When both night and day are perfectly divided and everything feels at peace. We called it Mabon. The peak of nature's abundance.

The holiday usually entailed freshly harvested crops and feasts to satisfy an entire continent. People gathered to the crop fields and pray, whether it be for good fortune or the wealth of the earth it didn't matter. They honored the soil beneath their feet as much as any other living thing. Similar to Calanmai in the spring there are bonfires in every direction, dancing surrounding the pits.

This was also the day high Fae reinforced the wards around their homes, seeing it as a new beginning.

Some prefer to stay at home and pray to the gods of fire, knelt by the flames that warmed them, having a simple meal of bread and grain. I, however, did not. During the day I'd plant fresh herbs and seeds, placing them in the richest of soils then saying a soft prayer until they began to grow. My harvesting powers have always been my favorite, being able to merely look at a seed and turn it into a blooming flower in the blink of an eye would forever be my favorite party trick.

During the night of Mabon however, I indulged myself in the finest of whiskeys and got drunk as all hel, claiming it was a tradition and a night of commemoration.

"All done?" Eris asked as I came back into the Forest House, my knees covered in dirt from kneeling in the gardens.

"All done." I gave him a small smile and he mirrored it while taking my wide-brimmed sun hat from my head.

"As cute as you look, you need to go change." He hands me the hat and I blink up at him confused. "Or have you forgotten your duties as High Lady?" He arched a manicured brow and I rolled my eyes.

My traditions would be different this year. It was Eris' first year as High Lord, meaning he'd have to put on a show to make sure everyone knew just how powerful he was. Whatever that meant. This also means my job was no longer getting drunk off my face but rather waiting alone in our bedroom where we'd consummate in order to release the power of the High Lord and grace the land with it, allowing harvests and crops to grow until the next Mabon.

"High Lady or not, I'd like to spend my night in a pub with my friends, not some stuffy room with your advisors." I scowl and a smirk tugs at his lips as I drape my hands around his neck.

"A lady of her people." He hums and my grin widens.

"Does that mean you'll let me have my holiday?" I bat my lashes at him.

"I can't," He sighs.

"Eris," I whine. "You're high lord now, fuck me in front of the rest of them for all I care just let me enjoy myself." I plead and he gives me a sorrowful gaze.

"It'll only be a few hours, you'll survive." He placed his hands on my waist and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"But what if you find some other girl on your way to me? I don't like the idea of you roaming this court half naked for just anyone to see, Eris," I dramatically fall into his chest, he tightens his hold on me as if I'm actually going to fall.

"Trust me, all I'll want is you," He guides me back upright so I can stand on my own. "Now go get dressed." His hold on me loosens and I give him the nastiest scowl I can muster.

"Fine, but only because I love you." I excuse as I place the floppy hat atop his head, I think the pink bow brought out his eyes.

"Love you too," He smiles sloppily as I leave his hold, the sun hat remaining on his head as I move away from him, his hand coming down to pat me on the ass, as if encouraging a faster rate, making me toss a glare back at him.

In between now and the beginning of Mabon's night festivities I passed the late afternoon stuck in a meeting room, which was as boring as I thought it was going to be. I spent the entire time drawing the high lord in front of me, making sure to match the glint in his golden eyes to his crown, pure regality as he sat in front of Advisors that used to be in his father's corner.

It's been past an hour, the sun reaching the horizon had told me so, I could already smell the scent of smoke from the bonfires and I knew my time was being wasted. "My lady, are you listening?" I snap to attention, clutching my sketchbook from beneath the table and looking at the male who had snapped his fingers at me, earning a low grumble from Eris as a warning.

"Yes," I answer on instinct.

"Really?" Eris leans forward, muscular forearms resting against the wooden table.

"Mhm." I nod with slightly tinged cheeks, I could never lie to Eris, something about the mating bond, or rather just him, in general, had me somehow giving myself away.

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you Fawn?" He narrows his gaze on me and it takes everything in my power to not give in, tell him that every word since greetings has gone in one ear and out the other. All this information was useless anyway, old rules that Beron followed. Not Eris. I don't understand why my mate entertained these old males.

"You know what?" A bright grin spreads over my features as I stand, my chair pushing back against the floor as everyone looks up at me.

"All of you may take an early holiday, enjoy the night, and spend time with your families." I dismiss and they blink up at me.

"Really?" One of them babbles.

"Yeah, really?" The high lord glared at me and my grin widened.

"Really." I nod.

"With all due respect, you're not one to be giving orders around here." The eldest of them scoffed and my smile faltered, I had never expected to hear that in my own court.

"She's your high lady and you will do as she says. Now go before I change my mind." He shoos the male away. Eris may not have liked me cutting the meeting short but he wasn't going to tolerate any discourtesy against me, it may have been wrong to use it to my advantage but all I wanted to do at the moment was curl up by the fire with a freshly poured glass of wine. Second best to getting hammered at the pubs like I would've been doing this time last year.

"You heard him, go." I make hands that send them away and they all scramble off, shuffling out the door with a haste I haven't seen in a while. I smile softly as the last male disappears.

"You are a cruel female." Eris leans back into his seat at the head of the table. I grab my sketchbook and walk down the long stretch of the meeting hall until I'm right beside him.

"Cruel? Or smart?" I tilt my head as I hoist myself up onto the table in front of him.

"Show me what you were drawing that entire time." He places a ringed finger on the top of my pencil and I flip to the page of his half-shaded figure, flipping around to show the male his unfinished portrait. A satisfied grin spreads over his lips as he sees that he is the subject, but he shouldn't be surprised because he is always the subject.

"Is this whole book me?" He flicks through the pages and I pull back before he can see all the drawings of him I sketched from memory on a particularly desperate night when he was gone on a mission.

"Don't be so full of yourself, I wasn't going to draw any of those old males." I roll my eyes and he chuckles. "Plus I was listening, I could draw you with my eyes closed," I confess and he raises a brow, his lopsided smirk making me feel warm inside. "Now can you please just get this celebration over with then come back to me?" I place the sketchbook beside me and look back at him.

"And what will you do while I'm gone?" He places his hands on my hips, a soft look in his eyes.

"Lots of drinking." I shrug, taking hold of his crown and making it crooked atop his head.

"You're quite the drunk." He grumbles and I chuckle.

"I'm a tavern keeper's daughter, what more do you expect?" I grin innocently and he shakes his head in disbelief.

"Alright, come with me," He slips his hand into mine and guides me out of the meeting room.

I intertwine our fingers, occasionally bumping into him, the comparison of his steady figure, walking with only solid steps and articulated movements contrasted to my bounding, my arm brushing his with every step. It was a silent kind of intimacy, our dynamic.

"This my cell for the night?" I ask as we stop in front of our bedroom, a grand suite that seems more like an apartment.

"Don't act like I'm locking you up," He sighs, crossing his arms.

"You're right, I could easily sneak out," I taunt and he narrows his eyes on me.

"I'm not going to put guards outside these doors, however, if I learn that you've left I will find you," He says, his tone shifting from playful to menacing all in one sentence. "And depending on where you are, I might just fuck you in front of all of them," His words sink to my core, it wasn't much of a warning if it was my idea to begin with.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," I smirk up at him, mirroring his.

"I'll be back for you, soon," He promises, free hand coming to my jaw, the other still preoccupied with mine. His thumb rubbed over my jaw, pressing with a pressure that told me he didn't want to see this room empty when he returned.

"I'll be waiting," I sigh, leaning into his hand. He frowns.

"I'm sorry Fawn, but I doubt I'll be able to control myself with you so near," He shifts back to his usual self, the compassionate one.

"I understand, it's okay," I mumble, even if this was the last place I wanted to be during the holidays. He leans down and presses a yearning kiss onto my lips, the kind full of promise of what was to come later tonight.

He pulls away with a reluctance I immediately recognized. Whatever power that was going to consume him tonight was already forming, I could feel it through the bond like someone on his side of the tether was sparking embers.

"Don't leave this room." He warned one last time and all I could do was nod and then watch him leave.

I had never wanted to leave a room more in my entire life.

Eris forgot to put his shields up on his side of the bond and it was driving me fucking mad. I could feel the power of him, flowing through the very floorboards beneath my feet. His arousal was immense, or perhaps it was mine— I wasn't sure. Maybe being High Lady had its own effects, maybe it made the mated female just as willing to consummate with the High Lord. The intense heat running up and down my spine reminded me of when Eris and I had accepted the mating bond, The Frenzy that took over both of us full throttle, I had managed that because he had been so near at the time, it had only lasted a few moments before he was touching where I needed him most but this, with him so far, gods this was unbearable.

I looked out the window like an animal eagerly waiting for their owner to return, but I couldn't see anything beyond the maple trees, only the smoke of the bonfires and all that promised with it.

I leaned my forehead against the cold window, it relieved me for only a split second before the heat of my body returned.

It started less than an hour ago, bloomed right at my core, and has only grown since. It would reach my head soon and I don't know what I'd do at that point. I had already put the fire in the hearth out but it felt as if I was the furnace and embers were still popping against my bare skin that mistook me for kindling.

I had practically stripped to my socks, but even my undergarments had been too much to bear. I wore a silk slip with a lace trim that was lighter than a feather and softer than anything I had ever felt before but on my burning skin, it felt like a winter coat.

If the window was cold then outside must've been colder, autumn air sweeping over the continent and beckoning at my very window, who was I to keep it out?

I pushed the window open with a grunt in agony, the sweet feeling of the light breeze kissing against my skin practically made me crumble in relief.

I latch the window all the way open and lean my head out the sill, the sound of music and cheering in the distance suddenly became so prominent but it was hard to hear anything over the blood rushing to my ears, dizziness consuming me as I grip the ledge of the window, something buried deep inside of me yearned for him in the direction of the music, and now that my head was out the window my body seemed to think I was teasing it, what it wanted so much closer now that the line to the outside world was crossed, the feeling so intense I thought I might start coughing up blood.

I grunt, attempting to talk myself through the pain, telling myself repeatedly that I've endured worse, that I was stronger this, that Eris would be back any moment now and— and oh gods, Eris. It was a mistake to let him cross my mind because all of a sudden he consumed every thought I could conjure, my mind in his hands and he was gripping it, not willing to let go.

I decided I didn't give a fuck if Eris was mad if I left the house, the pain I was enduring was horrific and the only way to relieve it was to disobey exactly what he ordered me to do. Don't leave this room. I slipped out the window with gasps of pain, landing on the soft grass. I was just grateful to be located on the first floor, close enough to the ground to jump from without shattering the bones in my legs.

Hounds rush up towards me before I can even take my first step.

They looked as if they were about to bark, to alert their owner that I had left the house but they saw my desperation, hel, they probably smelt it.

Rivin, the eldest of the shadow hounds rushed up to me first, staring up at me with a cock of his head, clearly concerned for my well-being. "Can you take me to Eris?" I murmur, praying the dog can understand me, I bring my hand to his snout and he chuffs, licks the palm of my hand then takes off running towards the sounds of the music.

I tried to stay as close as I could to the dog, he had taken the route through trees and behind stands, which I was grateful for since it kept me out of sight, however, it made it a lot easier to lose him amongst the trees. But he always came trotting back after a minute without him in my sights.

Eventually, the dog stopped in his tracks, his front paws prancing at the floor and communicating that he had finished his job. I creased my brows and looked around my surroundings but before I could talk to the dog again he ran off with the rest of his pack, back towards the house.

I had only just realized that whatever heat that was suffocating me in the Forest House had dissipated, still lingering below the surface but no longer unbearable.

I huffed, unsure what to do in the middle of the forest with a feeding wretchedness in the pit of my stomach.

I decided on heading towards where the largest plume of smoke was coming from, I had seen the set up of Mabon hundreds of times and knew this was the way to the throne, knew Eris must be sat upon it.

I hadn't explored Mabon much during previous years, I was always a barmaid for my father's pub, it had gotten crazy business during the week of Mabon so he needed any help he could get, funnily enough, that's how I met Eris.

I shake my head at the memory, thinking about Eris was almost painful, it felt like something was being carved out of me every moment I was without him.

I seethed a string of curses as I continued my trudge through the trees, staying in the shadows and avoiding the eyes of any drunk wanderers. I doubted they'd recognize me as their high lady anyway, Eris was the only one who ever saw me outside of my gowns and robes, this lacy slip was practically lingerie compared to the heavy dresses I often wore.

Lucky for me it had blended in with the other girls perfectly, in fact, I had seemed more covered up than most. Once I had made it out into the open area I spotted Eris immediately. On the throne, as expected, his legs spread wide and I wanted nothing more than to put myself between them.

He was shirtless, forest green paint smeared onto his body in tribal patterns of lines and dots, but he was glistening in sweat, drops running down the side of his face, through the grove of his abdomen. I didn’t want to think about who had the honor of putting that paint into those very groves, I only wanted to think about being the one to wash it off.

Heat pooled in my stomach as his eyes found mine from across the way, my body went rigid as he trekked his gaze down it, then so slowly back up, taking in every bare inch as well as every clothed part of me, like he was wondering just how perfect I looked underneath.

My knees shook as he lifted his hand and with two fingers waved me over. Waves of heat wash over me at every step I take closer, the power that radiated off of him left me defenseless, and the pain I had experienced earlier subsided entirely in favor of morphing into arousal.

Once I reach the dais I curtsy with a playful smile. "I thought I asked you to stay inside?" He purred, his voice rougher than usual, making my legs tremble.

"I missed you," I shrug, attempting to keep my composure but he opened his side of the bond entirely as soon as I was done speaking and my knees buckled. So, much, power.

It surged at my fingertips, blazed down my spine, and coiled in my abdomen. I couldn't imagine how Eris felt if I was only receiving an influence of it.

"C'mere," He lifts his hips, readjusting them in his ornate throne and I almost choke on my own tongue. He was going to push me over that dangerous edge and he didn't even need to say anything to do it.

I take the steps up the dais and I realize the silence in the crowd save for the music, people were watching, and couldn't keep their eyes off of the two of us. The offering between High Lord and Lady, the melding bond between us so clear on a night like this that any outsider could see that golden tether just as well as he or I could.

"On my lap, Fawn," He glances down to his thigh and I swallow thickly. "Oh, don't tell me you've become shy all of the sudden?" He smirks at the idea. I had told him I was willing to let him fuck me in front of all these people— still was, and yet sitting on his lap was the line to the path that I wasn't sure I could come back from.

My coaxing arousal won the battle and I took my final steps toward him, closing that distance, his hand came to the back of my thigh and I nearly melted at his touch, my body quivering in reaction because gods, if I had felt like a kindling fire earlier then he was a fucking inferno.

His fingers singed with flames but I felt none of the added heat as I took my place on his lap, straddling over his thigh and wrapping my arms around the nape of his neck, pulling him so close I wish I could've melted right into him, slotted myself into each of his grooves and stayed there, impossible to clean, impossible to get rid of.

My lips came to his neck without any forethought, I didn’t have control over my own mind, it was entirely consumed by him, his intoxicating scent of cinnamon, clove, and now an undertone of something different, something just as mouth-watering as the way his hands felt on my bare skin.

I fought the thoughts that told me to rip my dress off and decided to put my hands to better use and rub them down his chest, pressing my palm into his abdomen as I continued kissing his neck. I sucked and licked and nipped without caution, I didn't care if others were watching, he had never been more powerful than he was in this moment, both over others physically and over me mentally.

The domination running through his veins was attractive, so damned powerful and yet he knew how to control it, to conceal it beneath his skin rather than flaunt it, and he shared a fraction of it with me, a simple kernel of it was enough to send me spiraling.

"What are you doing? Dance," Eris spits at his subjects and they immediately do as he says, the music picking up in a crescendo of rushed notes to meet his demand.

I smiled against his shoulder at how much authority he held, my hips involuntarily winding over his thigh and I let out a soft, pleasurable sound. He grunts in return.

"If you keep making those sounds we're not going to make it back to our bedroom," He warns lowly beside my ear and I rut my hips again at the perfect sound.

"I don't know what's wrong— fuck," I'm cut off by my soft moan, his muscled thigh providing just the right amount of friction against my clit. "I don't know what's wrong with me, but I need you to fuck me now," I plead and I sense a sudden change in his demeanor.

"Now?" He hums and I can hear the smirk in his voice. Damned bastard. "In front of all these people?" He intones and I nod helplessly.

"However you want me, wherever, just— gods do it now," I beg, continuing to wind my hips over his thigh.

His foxlike smirk doesn't falter as his hands grip my hips, halting my needy movements only to guide me down onto his thigh himself, my core aching as he does so. I cry out at the feeling, it shouldn't have felt this good, it's never been this intense, even when our mating bond clicked I hadn't been so consumed by his fire that was so dangerously out of control and feeding into my own.

"I need you inside of me," I murmur, coming to the conclusion that this torment will not subside until he finds release inside of me, the mother herself was impelling us to consummate, to breed, and I was more than willing to oblige for her.

"Eris," I grip at his shoulder, paint smearing onto my hands, soiling my nightgown. But I didn't care, any piece of him spreading onto me felt like it was a gift from the gods, and I needed more. "Please, fill me," I beg into the warmth of his neck.

"You want me to come inside you? Want these people to watch while I give you an heir?" He taunts, his words ghosting against the shell of my ear. I reply with a pitiful whimper, unsure what to retort with because he was right. I didn't care who was watching, as long as they knew I was his and he was mine.

"Yes," I pant, my hand coming to the back of his neck. "That's exactly what I want," I plead, the rutting of my hips not slowing for a moment. "Show them I'm yours,"

My words seemed to push him over that fine line and he had obeyed. His rough hands grip my waist, pulling me over his hips so I was no longer straddling his thigh but rather angled just above his cock that was strained in his pants, the confinement so tight it almost seemed painful.

“Yeah?” He hummed and I nodded helplessly. “You want everyone to hear just how pretty your moans are when you’re sitting on my cock?” He asked and I whimpered, feeling powerless under his stare. Whatever heat that had been affecting me tonight had doubled over with his arousing words.

“I can’t be gentle with you right now,” He gritted through clenched teeth, the tip of his nose drawing a line up the side of my throat. “Can’t, control myself right now,” He murmured in warning and I smiled at the idea of having an effect on him as much as he did on me.

“I don’t want control,” I sigh against the side of his neck. “I need you now controlled or not, so please, Eris fuck me,” I begged and with one last kiss to my neck he obliged.

With an expert hand, he tore my underwear right from my hips, pulling the lace off like it was nothing. My heat was now left bare but it didn’t stop me from grinding down onto his bulge. I was staining his pants with my slick, dripping down onto him and he groaned as my wetness seeped through the material.

“Fuck, you’re drenched,” He admired and I nodded with purely innocent eyes, the kind that silently pleaded for him to fill me until he was satiated.

All I felt was hunger, and I could tell by the way flames alighted in his gaze that he felt it too.

Quickly, he removed his leathers and his cock springs up, smacking against my soaked folds, my pussy leaking over his length. The heat between us must’ve been record-breaking, I felt like a candle burning all too fast, making a mess of wax that he was too slow to clean.

The moment I felt his tip prod at my entrance my nails dug into his shoulder. I still didn’t know what it was that was wrong with me, I had never experienced an ache quite like this, the kind that only he could patch over.

“Please,” I cry, my cunt weeping as I crave for him to sink his length into me. “Show them how good you fuck me,” I mewl and perhaps it was the taboo factor of it all, how thrilling it was to have an audience while I rode him, but that had been his breaking point before he gripped the tops of my thighs and pushed me down onto his length.

My breath catches in my throat as I stretch around him, around every inch of him. He was so very large, and on any other night he’d need to fuck me with his fingers first, make sure I was ready for his member without the pain, but tonight we are both so needy that any foreplay was thrown out the window the moment I left our bedroom.

The pain was disguised as pleasure as he helped guide me lower onto him, it hadn’t been unbearable since I was slick with a natural lubricant, my arousal dripping down my thighs and onto his, as I took him deeper and deeper.

I swore he met places he’s never touched before, and fuck was it more than anything I had ever wanted.

This feeling was the god ecstasy prayed to, and I was blessed by it.

“That’s it, just like that, fuck yourself on my cock Fawn,” He encourages and I gasp out my moan, finally reaching his base, pressing against it with mine.

“Your court is watching, give ‘em a show for me,” He purrs, and so I do exactly that.

I begin to lift on his length, my knees buckling at the action but I ignore the pain and favor it for the pleasure as I drop down onto him, wielding gravity as my weapon. He lets out a low grunt and I do it again, continuing the action over and over again, bouncing on his cock just like he asked.

“Fuck, so good for me,” He praised, his eyes blazing with an untamable fire. “Such a good girl,” He sighs, his head craning back, leaning into his golden throne as his hands slip beneath my nightgown.

He didn’t take the dress off, because there were simply just some things he refused to let anyone else see, and though I was getting off on having an audience he wasn’t going to let everyone else get off on it too. He grips my hips tightly from beneath the slip, his callouses scraping against my soft skin, burning it with an unyielding pain, the kind that brings pleasure with it.

His cock seemed just as hot as I continued to fuck myself on it, the vein on the underside pulsing so feverishly I could feel it. The head of him pressed right into that sweet spot and it was a miracle I hadn’t come yet, gods he was going to send me over that edge any second now.

My lips connect with his, and he responds to the familiar feeling on instinct, his tongue slipping beneath my lips and tasting every fraction of me he can get his mouth on.

I moan onto his tongue every time he presses that deep spot inside of me, my noises only adding to the sound of skin slapping and the lewd sound of my pussy taking every inch of him. Our own music drowned out the symphony playing for the others.

“Eris, I can’t,” I pant against his lips. “I’m gonna come,” I warn and he smirks.

“So soon?” He taunts and I nod pitifully, continuing to rut my hips over his.

“Please, it hurts,” I whine, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. And it did hurt, it hurt to not be granted that release I craved so desperately.

“Go ahead, make a mess all over my lap,” He allows and I would’ve wept at the words if my orgasm hadn’t consumed me first.

It felt like pure fire, setting me aflame and impossible to control. It was the kind of climax that lingered for hours on end, the kind that left my legs jolting and my eyes struggling to open. I let out a loud moan, so loud that if the dancing fae hadn’t known what had been happening, they did now. “You did so well baby,” He hums as I slowly come down from my high but I don’t have the strength to lift off his cock, and I definitely didn’t have the willpower to continue my movements. My thighs were burning and I hadn’t noticed until my climax settled.

“You done?” He coos and I nod, but the tone of his voice tells me it is him who is nowhere near finished with me, his member still hard inside of me evidence of that.

He didn’t warn me before he winnowed us back to the Forest House, the same position except he was no longer sitting on the throne but rather our bed.

I whine, falling limp against his shoulder. “I can’t take anymore, Eris,” I sigh and he shakes his head.

“Oh, no baby you said you wanted an heir and I’m going to give one to you.” He flipped us over so I was splayed out on my back, sinking into the mattress with my legs hooked around him.

“Eris I’m not on a tonic— fuck,” I try but he felt so much deeper in this position.

“Does it feel like I care?” He sighs into my hair and I shake my head no. “That’s right, now be a good girl and stay true to your word,” He demanded and I swallowed thickly, nodding while he lifted one of my legs up to hook on his shoulder, spreading my legs wide as I clamped down onto him.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to fill this pretty pussy, squeezing me so tight,” He grunted and I lost all cohesive thoughts, strings of moans escaped me as he rolled his hips down onto mine, his full balls slapping against my folds as his pace quickened.

“More,” I plead.

“Yeah? You want me to fill you don’t you?” He says and I was quick to show my agreement by squeezing around him tighter. “You just can’t wait to have my babes, isn’t that right?” He grunted into the shell of my ear and I nodded with a hum of restless accord. “Your tits are gonna be so fucking swollen,” He sighs and I clench around him at his dirty words. “You like that?” He kisses up my neck.

“Mhm, want your seed in me, Eris,” I whine and he twitches, a sign he’s nearing his climax.

I was hungry for his warm release, ached for it to fill my every crevice, let it seep into my womb.

I met his thrusts with my own sudden desire, sending my hips down onto him while he drove his cock right into that spongy bundle of nerves.

“I’m close,” He grunts.

“Me too,” I whimper, my legs locking up as my orgasm races to meet me.

My hands go into his hair and I pull at his short locks as my second climax finds me and I’m squeezing around him tighter than ever before. My walls flutter around him, and my pussy twitched as he continues his fast pace. He groans at the intense convulsions around him and suddenly his release is spurring out into me, kissing my cervix as he does so, his seed shooting out on a straight path to my womb.

“Fuck,” He sighed while guiding my leg down from his shoulder, and with a few more languid, slow strokes of his cock he finishes, slipping from my heat and falling down onto the bed beside me, both of us out of breath and settling over the action we had just committed to.

I clench my thighs shut, keeping his warm seed nestled inside of me. “Good?” I ask and he flips onto his side, arm slinging over my sweat-slicked body, pulling me into him.

“So good.” He presses kisses to the top of my head and I flip around to face him, my eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“I think I like this High Lord stuff,” I say, my hand coming to his cheek and he chuckles, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.

“I think so too,” He whispered against my mouth, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up,” He sat up, pulling me with him and I groaned. “You can sleep after, I promise, Fawn,” He said with a gentle tone that rivaled his earlier rough grunts.

“Eris please, just lay with me for a few more minutes,” I huff stubbornly and he shakes his head, hauling me from the bed and taking me to the connected bathroom.

“I’ll lay by you all night after I clean you up. Sound like a deal?” He says, settling me down onto the cold counter that sent shivers up my spine and I lazily nodded, looking up at him. He grins and leans closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“I love you,” He whispers and I match his smile.

“Love you too, Eris.” I look up at him with only honesty in my gaze. “Now hurry up, I’m tired,” I grumbled and he chuckled.

“Alright, alright.” He shakes his head in disbelief, wetting a cloth with warm water before beginning to clean me up, treating me with utter tenderness after he gave me the two best orgasms of my life. This male was going to be the death of me, and I was going to love every moment of it until that day.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-smut @secretlyhers @pit-and-the-pen @mybestfriendmademe @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143 @bubybubsters @joshysloshy@username199945 @notsarareallynot @vixenshiftsvrs @mahealanipunea @pey2618 @loving-and-dreaming @andreperez11 @nerdy4itall @whatsupbi8 @one-big-fangirl

[xcherryerim]

Mexican Mike Headcanons

tw: light Death mentions (of his mom and garret) / smut headcanons at the end (gn!reader)

— Mike is a quarter Mexicans from his dad side

— Probably biased asf but he’s norteño

— Mike’s dad is a truck driver. When his dad needed to drive to Mexico Mr. Schmidt made sure to comeback home with Mike’s and Garret’s favorite candies.

— His favorite candies are Bocadin, Duvalin and Chokis.

— The only reason Mike kept getting hired after his awful track record is because he can somewhat speak spanish.

— After Mike lost his family (except for Abby) he didn’t really practice any more traditions like he used to do but, after moving to his now current place (which is mainly for lower class and immigrant families. This is canon in the book btw)

His neighbor which happens to be a 42 year old single mom, decided to help him in subtle ways like cooking meals from time to time for him and Abby. She even invites them to some family gatherings (carne asadas, birthday parties etc) as well.

— The lady always tries to set Mike up with her oldest daughter tho

— Every time winter approaches Mike eats tamales and arroz con leche excessively.

— Mike snacks in peanuts which is SO SPECIFIC but mexican dads always snack on cacahuates. (He’s entering his dilf era)

— After reconnecting with his roots a bit because of his neighbor, he tries to practice more traditions specially Día de los muertos (day of the death). He’s not really a religious person, but he always prays for his mom and garret to be at peace wherever they are.

— If you think Mike speaks quietly, wait for him to speak in spanish. His voice is softer too but that’s only because he gets self conscious when he’s talking to people that only / mainly speaks spanish.

— Mike dosent really mix english and spanish when he speaks unless he’s angry.

— He dosent really curse but when he does is in Spanish. He calls himself “pendejo” (dumbass) a lot.

Headcanons with his partner (+18)🫶🏻

— Mike says he has two left feet but, just give him a bit of alcohol and a slow song and he’ll dance good.

Just imagine dancing to bachata while Mike wears a dumb yet charming drunk smirk as he whispers into your ear the lyrics.

“¿Qué dirías si esta noche te seduzco en mi coche?Que se empañen los vidrios y la regla es que goces. / What do you say if I seduce you in my car? fog up the windows and the rule is for you to enjoy.”

— Mike wouldn’t really use spanish pet names unless he’s trying to get something out of you. “Cariño” and “Amor” are his main ones (and that mf says them slowly to tease the fuck out of you.)

— One time while you two where fucking, he leaned, bitting and sucking on your neck as he praised the fuck out of you in spanish and you swore when he used his raspy voice mixed with his light accent, that was already enough to make you climax.

— After he realized this, however, he tried to only speak to you in spanish for a week to purposely turn you on.

— This man, is a gift giver. He would literally give you a ramo buchón with a big ass bear for no reason.

— Mike mainly calls you his spouse / wife / husband sometimes he also says it in spanish as well. “Mi cónyuge / esposa / esposo”

(But don’t do it to him or he’ll actually plan out the whole wedding in one sitting)

a few of his favorite music in spanish:

[fkapommel]

Etymology of TLT Character Names

Wanted to provide a fandom resource for analysis and theorizing. Since House names are explained in GTN, this list will just focus on first names. DM me for sources. Enjoy <3

Gideon

Biblical prophet, military leader, and judge, meaning "feeler," "hewer," or "one who cuts down." According to narrative, the Israelites had forgotten their god for 40 years and were punished by assaults from enemy tribes. After Israel turned back to God for aid, Gideon, an unnoteworthy Israelite, was delivered the message by an angel that he should lead Israel against its enemies. Gideon requested three miracles be done by God to prove his and God's ability to do this task, which God then performed. Gideon then completes God's tasks, including destroying an idol of Baal in the Israelite camp and displacing a much larger enemy encampment. Gideon delivered 40 years of peace for Israel during his lifetime and refused kinghood and dynasty when offered by his people. However, upon his death, the Israelites returned to worshipping Baal. A "Gideonic victory" can mean winning a battle against the odds.

Harrowhark

Harrowing - to use a piece of farming equipment to level soil, break rocks, and kill weeds to ready the dirt for seed growth. Also refers to the Harrowing of Hell, a non-Biblical, early to middle English traditional episode in which Jesus, upon death by crucifixtion, enters the Underworld to preach salvation to souls interned there before his birth, thus allowing them to enter Heaven. This tradition has been canonized by Catholic theology.

Hark - the first word of many ancient texts or announcements, meaning "listen." Biblical angelic speeches often begin with "hark."

Judith

The feminine of Judah, a Biblical Hebrew name meaning "praised," "woman of Judea/Jewess." The name Judith appears twice in the deuterocanonical Bible: once as one of Esau's wives and seperately as the titular character in the Book of Judith (a book not part of the canonized Bible). In the Book of Judith, Judith is described as a widow who uses her wit, charm, and skills of seduction to be invited to the private tent of Holofernes, the general of the enemy Assyrian army who had laid siege to her city. Judith is able to get Holofernes drunk and overpowers him, decapitates him, and steals his head to show to her city. She is of the few illustrations of the "ideal Jewish woman."

Marta

Derived from Aramaic, meaning "the daughter," "the lady," and "dedicated to Mars"

Isaac

Meaning "he laughs," referring to the father of the Biblical character's laugh of disbelief when God told him, Abraham, that his nonogenarian wife would conceive his child. Isaac is one of the three patriarchs of Israel, grandfather to the 12 tribes. When Isaac was a child, God commanded Abraham to take him up a mountain and sacrifice his child in His name. When Abraham proved his obedience, God provided a ram to sacrifice instead of Isaac. Isaac went on to marry Rebekah; though they eventually believed her to be barren, after Isaac prayed to God, Rebekah concieved twin boys, Esau and Jacob, at an old age, just as his mother did. Rebekah grew to prefer Jacob. Later, due to Sarah and Jacob's scheming, Isaac gave Esau's birthright to his second-born son, Jacob. Jacob would live on to father the twelve tribes of Israel.

Jeannemary

This specific spelling seems to be an invention of Tazmuir, but the duel components of the name are significant. Firstly, "Jean-Marie" is a French masculine name. Jeanne is the feminine form of the English "John." "Jeanne"  can be traced to a Biblical Hebrew name, meaning "God is gracious." The most notable historical character of the same name is Jeanne d'Arc, a young female military leader who acted under divine guidance. Upon instruction of archangels and saints, Jeanne fought in pursuit of the coronation of Charless VII during the 100 Years War. Her leadership led to multiple military victories but was punctuated by multiple failures. The unsuccessful relief of a besieged city led to her capture and deliverance to the English, who tried her for blasphemy by wearing men's clothes and refusing submission to Church authority. Found guilty, Jeanne was burned at the stake at 19.

Mary is the most notable feminine name of the Christian Bible, referring predominately to Mary, mother of Jesus Christ, Mary Bethany, and Mary Magdalene, a female disciple of Jesus. Mary was born immaculately - without sin - so that she would be a pure vessel to carry Jesus, who she concieved as a virgin. Mary Bethany was a friend of Jesus and sister to Lazarus. She was deeply emotional about her brother's passing, which persuaded Jesus to resurrect her brother from the grave. Mary Magdalene was a probably wealthy Jewish woman who aided Jesus' teachings. As a loyal apostle, she was a witness at both His crucifixtion and resurrection.

Coronabeth

"Coronabeth," like "Jeannemary," is an obvious Tazmuir invention. "Corona" refers to both the part of the body that resembles a crown and to a colored circular frame around a stellar body, usually caused by its atmosphere.

"Beth" is derived from both "Elizabeth" ("God is my oath") and "Bethany" ("House of Figs"). The suffix -beth comes from Hebrew origins, meaning "house."

Ianthe

From the Ancient Greek, meaning "violet flower" or "she who delights." She was one of the 3,000 water-nymphs called Oceanides, daughters of the Titans. Ianthe and her sisters served as a companion to Persephone when she was in Hades. She is also a character in Ovid's Metamorphosis as the beautiful fiancé to Iphis, a character who has her/his gender changed by the goddess Isis.

Note on the Tridentarii: Coronabeth was almost called "Cainabeth" and Ianthe "Abella" after the two Biblical brother characters, Cain and Abel. In the narrative, God preferred Abel's divine sacrifices and loved him more than his brother. In a jealous rage, Cain killed Abel and hid from his crime, his family, and his God. When God asked him, "Where is your brother?" Cain returned, "I am not my brother's keeper." Angered, He cursed Cain with the Mark of Cain. Separately, the first fratricide cursed the Earth to never turn over its vegetation to Cain, the first murderer. His Mark symbolizes him as a wanderer, a person who belongs nowhere; however, it also protects him from the curses and abuse of others, returning scorned words and abuses back to the harasser seven-fold. Though Coronabeth and Ianthe received their names elsewhere, the lusty, jealous, murderous themes of Cain and Abel's narrative were present at the time of their creation and thus should not be dismissed.

Naberius

Though I can't find the meaning of the name, "Naberius" is rooted in Latin. It first appears in Johann Weyer's 1583 manuscript, "The Deceptions of Demons." Naberius, or "Cerberus" - relation to the same named three-headed dog of Ancient Greek theology unknown - is a Marquess of Hell, directing 19 legions of demons. He provides cunningness of the arts, sciences, and rhetoric in man through vocal instruction and can restore lost honors and dignities. His semblance is of a man with three dog heads or a raven.

Abigail

Biblical Hebrew name meaning "my father's joy," "my father is exalted." Abigail is a Biblical figure, being the third wife of King David and mother to one of his sons. She is a strong believer in the prophecy of David's ascension and his great dynasty. Abigail is considered to be one of the seven Jewish woman prophets and, in the Talmud, of the four women "surpassing beauty in this world." The word "Abigail" can refer nonspecifically to a waiting woman or handmaiden.

Palamedes

There are two notable historical fiction characters that share the name "Palamedes." Palamades was an ancient Grecian prince who joined the battle of Troy, according to the Aenid. After Paris had taken Helen to Troy, Palamedes was sent as envoy from Agamemnon to Odysseus because the latter man had previously vowed to defend Helen's marriage. Odysseus, however, did not want to attend the war, but Palamedes was successful in proving his fitness for war and ultimately delivering Odysseus to Troy. According to some traditions, Odysseus never forgave Palamedes for this and eventually killed him. In the Apology, Plato characterizes Socrates as looking forward to death in order to speak with Palamedes.

Secondly, Sir Palamedes is a knight of the round-table, a Saracen pagan (or probable Muslim) who converted to Christiantiy later in life. He is introduced dueling another knight, Sir Tristan, for a lady's hand, which he loses; these two fight several more times but with unclear victories, leading to a hate-love relationship deepened by their love for the same woman (the woman of their first duel). Many stories have Palamedes as the hunter of the Questing Beast, a fearsome animal the target of many a fruitless hunt. After years of pursuit, it is ultimately his freedom from wordly material granted by his Christian conversion that allows him to slaughter the beast. He remains loyal to Sir Lancelot after his affair with Queen Guinevere is revealed and follows Lancelot to France. Sir Palamedes is later killed by Sir Gawain. Except in matters concerning his love and Sir Tristan, where he often lost control of his anger, he was one of the most chivalrous and honorable knights.

Note: The story of Sir Palamedes, as a product of Arthurian legend, is nearly impossible to summarize properly due to its expansiveness and document fragmentation. If interested in the topic (such as the wink wink homo-erotic love-hate relationship he has with Sir Tristan,) i encourage futher research.

Camilla

"Camilla" is the feminine of "Camillus," a Latin term meaning acolyte, a helper of the Priest during religious processionals and ceremonies. In the Aeneid, Camilla is a queen gifted to the goddess Diana as a handmaiden who became a virginal Amazon warrior.

Dulcinea

"Dulcinea" is a name created by Don Quixote for his character, derivative of the Spanish word "dulce" meaning "sweetness." Princess Dulcinea was invented in the titular character's mind to be the most perfect, beautiful, and regal woman since he believes chivalry requires such a lady of him. To refer to a loved one as like Dulcinea is to express your idealistic devotion and love to her.

Protesilaus

"Protesilaus" may come from the Ancient Greek "protus" for "first." Protesilaus was a hero in the Iliad. According to an oracle, the first Greek to set foot on land after sailing to fight the Trojan War would die. Protesilaus was the first to dare step off ship; he sealed his fate then, later dying in combat. His widow was so devoted to his memory that she built a bronze statue with his likeness. She later self-emulated when the statue was burned and destroyed.

Silas

Latin in origin, "Silas" means "of the forest." Notable figures named "Silas" include first century St. Silas, who accompanied St. Paul on his second mission. He is credited as co-author of the two letters to Thessalonians and the Book of Hebrews; however, authoriship is disputed. St. Silas is sometimes depicted with broken chains due to an episode in which an earthquake freed him and St. Paul from imprisonment.

Colum

From the Gaelic word for "dove"

[monzamash]

unless you like that — daniel ricciardo

summary – it’s events season and the alcohol is flowing.  rating – a whole lotta smut 18+ (sex scene, course language, drinking) pairing – daniel ricciardo x you (female reader) word count – 3.8k of absolute filth a/n – bit of plot but mostly just sex because drunk, flirty danny ric makes me feral. that's it. enjoy the ride. masterlist

All you wanted to do was drag Daniel back to your hotel room, get reacquainted after a couple of torturous weeks of being apart, maybe run a hot bath and enjoy the rest of your night in peace.

In your dreams.

You never really had Daniel for long during the season and because of that, you wanted to make the most of your time actually being in the same country, let alone the same city. But your handsome, social butterfly of a boyfriend had other ideas – ones that didn’t factor in your desire to have him all to yourself.

So good to see ya too, mate.

We’ve gotta catch up next time you’re in LA, man.

Maaaate, long time no see!

How’s ya mum going? Tell her I said hi.

The mum's bloody loved themselves a bit of Daniel Ricciardo.

The long, doting line of people wanting to wish Daniel good luck for next year and praising his strength through adversity while getting a sneaky selfie was never ending. To put it plainly, it was obnoxious but you were used to it now. He was effervescent, charismatic – a big ‘ol magnet to anyone and everyone. You loved him endlessly, admired his ability to smile through the pain even more but all you wanted to do was say goodnight to everyone and leave.

Barely two words were shared before you were whisked off in a car and through the doors of this swanky restaurant – the private function room and bottomless champagne making it less excruciating.

“All I can think about is getting this over and done with so I can come back here and rip this unbelievably beautiful dress off you.”

Those ‘barely two words’ were enough ammunition to last you a couple of hours, holding onto the hope of that promise coming true. But right now you had to try and enjoy the night and put any filthy thoughts you may or may not be having aside for the sake of your own sanity. Smile and wave.

You didn’t know exactly what the party was for but you knew that the McLaren team were the ones throwing it from the obnoxious amount of orange balloons hanging from the ceiling – and that Daniel was obliged to attend. But you would never have guessed that he was there as a contractual obligation the way he floated through the room, saying hello to every last individual, bright smile adorning his face. He made each and every person feel like a million bucks. That’s why they loved him, because he made them feel at ease – like he was one of them.

Daniel didn’t think there was a whole lot for him to be celebrating but he always underestimated how loved he was by McLaren – racing problems aside, he was adored by the staff who were devastated to see him leaving.

And somehow in a room of nearly a hundred people, he knew nearly everyone by name, zeroing in long enough to have them eating out of the palm of his hand.

Your words, not his.

“Could you say hello to my grandson – he loves you.” An older lady asked, phone locked and loaded for the video. God help him if he said no.

“Absolutely.”

Of course he said yes. That was the kind of person Daniel was. Not a people pleaser or a push over – just a genuinely nice guy with more patience than anyone you’d ever known.

After making your way around most of the room, you finally had a second to drink in your man. The freshly steamed, light blue linen shirt was lazily buttoned over his shoulders, leaving a the tiniest bit of chest hair showing for good measure and to tease you, no doubt. He’d gone for his classic black skinny jeans sitting atop a pair of shiny black dress shoes look that you loved and those wild curls that you’d spent hours twirling between your fingers flowed onto his forehead – he looked so fucking good.

His charm and kindness always had you singing his praises and you made sure he knew how wonderful he was, how attractive he was. Your soft whispers of admiration had his heart pumping as he took a sip of his Chateau Margaux red, lips quirked in a smile. “So sexy.”

“Which part of all that was sexy? The bit where I filmed a video for that women’s grandkid? You are an absolute deviant if that’s makin’ ya feel a certain way, my girl.”

Daniel loved to tease, especially when it garnered that kind of reaction. Rolling eyes, flushed cheeks and a gentle shove in the arm. He fucking lived for it.

“No, dickhead.” You scolded under your breath, “Just… you being you. I don’t know what it is.”

You couldn’t put your finger on it but you knew how it made you feel. Seduced.

“Maybe you can figure it out in our hotel room.”

Daniel shrugged with a smirk lining his lips, nonchalantly throwing out the idea as if he hadn’t been plotting a way to leave the party early. Wishing for nothing more than to have you praising his other set of skills, if you catch my drift. Rolling your eyes with flushed cheeks but in a very different context. He was twitching at the thought as his fingertips lightly scratched at the silky material covering your ribs, dragging your body closer to his.

“Don’t tempt me, Ricciardo. All I’ve wanted since the second we got here was to leave so don’t talk a big game if you can’t deliver.” You were whispering in his ear, hoping to spur on those scheming eyes staring back at you.

“When have I not delivered? Just call me FedEx,” He joked, swaggering away from the bar and waving to Lando who had just rocked up with his crew in tow.

“Do we even know what this party’s for?” Lando asked over the loud music blasting through the speakers, taking the smallest step back after he gave us both a hug hello.

Lando looked dapper compared to his usual hoodie and track pants ensemble that he'd wear around the track. He was slightly confused by the overt extravagance he’d walked into but he was always smiling your way, making you feel welcome. You were going to miss his cheekiness and the way he brought out a different side to Daniel. Mischief always seemed to follow those two.

“Probably just a way for McLaren to swing their dick around before the end of the season,” Daniel shrugged, completely oblivious to how crude his comment was. Thankfully Lando was more than used to it now after working so closely with him so you didn’t have to apologise on Daniel’s behalf.

“The wine’s ace though.” He quickly added.

“You would say that,” Lando replied, snickering quietly as he looked over at the bar, “Might actually grab a drink and come back. Want anything?"

Lando looked between you and Daniel as you both shook your heads until he turned away and disappeared into the crowd, “Kid’s not gonna know what hit him next year – being the golden boy isn’t what it’s cracked up to be…”

You nodded and watched Daniel’s eyes following Lando, pensively taking a sip of his wine before sighing and glancing back to you, “What?”

“Nothing,” You tutted, “It’s funny how much you care about him now after how rocky the relationship was in the beginning. I love that he’s softened you a little bit, made you less of a prick.” You winked.

The insincere insult tacked onto the end made Daniel’s thick eyebrows rise with faux hurt, an exaggerated gasp masterfully added for emphasis, “Me? A prick? I wouldn’t reckon a prick snags a girl like you.”

You watched as Daniel sculled the rest of his wine, a devilish smirk hiding behind the large glass, “No chance. Unless you like that.”

“I don’t hate it.”

Daniel's laugh was dark as he took a step forward, lessening the gap between the two of you before reaching up and brushing your hair over your shoulder, “Now you’re tempting me and that’s not fair.” He whispered into your ear, carefully placing his empty glass on the table beside you.

“Nothings really fair though, is it? You having to be here instead of buried deep inside me, fucking me until I –”

“The bar line’s a fucking ‘mare,” Lando loudly interrupted and caused you to jump back from Daniel’s side. You steadied yourself on his hip for balance as you watched Lando plot his next move.

“Oh, there’s Charlotte – she’ll have an in!”

You and Daniel politely nodded again while he shot off in the other direction, and the two of you shifted away from the middle of the room, out of view of prying eyes and into a private nook. Daniel was quick to pin you up against the wall, large hand pressing into your hip as you looked up at him with innocent eyes. He could see right through you.

“Don’t give me that look,” He growled, eyes narrowed. “Look at what you do to me.”

His whispered words and flickering eyes encouraged your hands that were playing with his slightly parted shirt to travel further south, fingertips tracing over his dark denim jeans that were a lot tighter than when he first got here. Almost too tight.

“You are fuckin’ cruel, sweetheart.”

The painfully hard outline pressing against your palm intoxicated your already foggy mind, mouth watering. You could feel your thighs magnetically pulling together as his thumb flicked the dimple in your chin, forcing you to look into his dark, misty eyes that were watching your every move.

"Want me to do something about it?" It was a bold question to ask, a dangerous one, even when you noticed his eyes change colour. They were blacker than the night sky now.

Daniel was exasperated, anguished by the question as he smiled and dipped his forehead onto yours. The answer was obviously “abso-fucking-lutely, get down on your knees and show me you love me” but he knew better. And so did you. Still, the warm puff of air from his laugh still sent surging chills down your arched spine, needy for his touch.

“I hate sayin’ no to you,” He rasped and closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, “Especially when I know how fucking good you feel but no. You can't.”

You dryly chuckled and brushed your hands over his puffed out chest, “Must be absolute torture, my boy. Thankfully I can hide how I’m feeling – you? Not so much.” You replied with gritted teeth and a shrug, smirk dancing on your lips.

“Yeah, you’re fuckin’ in for it later, mate.” He playfully retorted before pulling himself from your grasp and leaving you with what he thought was a threat, but what you took as a promise you hoped to God he would keep. You were soaked. to. the. core.

The expensive champagne continued to flow freely for hours and several glasses of wine later had you and Daniel fumbling around at your hotel room door, unsure whether you’d arrived at the right number and having absolutely no idea where the key card you barely remembered giving him had gone. It also didn’t help that Daniel’s lips hadn’t left the crook of your neck while you dug through your clutch, his fingers inching closer to danger with every passing second.

“Lemme see your pockets,” You huffed and shoved your hand into his jeans pocket, causing a loud shriek to slip from his lips.

“You’re just tryin’ to touch my dick!” He shouted, louder than he expected and definitely louder than you accepted as appropriate, even in your drunken stupor, "You can if ya want."

“Shuuuush!” You hissed, trying not to laugh as Daniel gazed up at the ceiling and reached into his back pocket, searching until his eyes lit up with excitement. “Ah-huh!”

“Thank god – now hurry up and fuck me please!” You whisper-yelled, praying for the sweet sound of a door unlocking.

“Alright, ya horn-bag. Give me a sec- ond… Shit!” Daniel paused and looked back at you with wide eyes, “Wrong room.”

You could faintly hear the sound of footsteps behind the large door in front your shocked face. Before you could even muster a response to his mortifying revelation, Daniel had you in his grasp, dragging you down the hallway, panting and hoping he had a plan. He always did.

“Room 1001 – not 1011,” He coughed through his laughter, hovering the keycard over the lock and finally revealing the room we’d left nearly 5 hours ago, “Home sweet home.”

“Shut up,” You mumbled, throwing your arms over his shoulders and jumping into his embrace. Daniel groaned at your sudden burst of energy and hoisted you up on his waist, mouths instantly attached and desperately trying to defy physics.

Your vision was blurry when you pulled away for air, lips still touching, noses knocking and your hands still roaming the expanse of Daniel’s broad shoulders. You could feel him moving you further into the room that was spinning, the ceiling fan still whirring above your head. That was the first thing you saw when you landed on the messy hotel bed and left for dead by Daniel who was chuckling at the foot, watching you lay back in defeat.

“I’m stupidly drunk.” You huffed.

Daniel nodded as you looked up at him through hooded eyes, “So, so drunk.”

“Not that drunk.”

Your pointed finger and wiggling eyebrows told him exactly what you were referring to, lip bite and dark eyes forever selling you out.

“Take off your pants.” You ordered.

Daniel’s grin dropped into a smirk as you propped yourself up on your elbows, encouraging your boyfriend to give you a little show. Tipsy or not, Daniel knew what you wanted and he’d move heaven and earth to give you whatever you asked for. A heat rushed across his chest as he gazed down at you, undressing for him. The silky satin dress slipped off a lot easier than it went on, a detail not going unnoticed by Daniel who was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, moaning at the sight of your white lacy thong that you knew he loved.

“Killing me.”

“You love it, baby.”

“I live for it.”

The banter was hot, if not hotter than the actual sex. Foreplay was your forte but you weren’t in a ‘building a narrative’ kind of mood. It was primitive now – the primal need for a release outweighing the desire to fuck around with each other. That was the kind of fun best saved for the morning. You were already looking forward to that.

“Look how wet I am for you, Danny.”

Daniel growled as he kicked his jeans off, boxer briefs attached as they flung across the room, discarded with his wrinkled linen shirt. He stood for a moment – naked, painfully hard and begging to be touched before crawling up onto the California king. You could feel him throbbing as he brushed up on your inner thigh, legs open and wrapped around his waist in a matter of seconds. Lips attached again, frenziedly needing for more.

“Give it to me.” You pathetically pled.

“I wanna taste first.”

You resented his love for you in that moment. Resented that he wanted to indulge in what you had to offer, when all you wanted was the main course. The sharp huff that slipped from your lips made Daniel chuckle into your inner thigh, sloppy kisses followed by tiny nibbles, undeniably revving you up but also making the pout on your face that much more noticeable.

“You’re sexy even when you’re mad,” He almost slurred, closing the gap between you and his indescribably proficient tongue. Hot breath fanning over what you could only imagine was your glistening pussy. Ready for him to enjoy. Fuck.

“You are a fucking drug. A sweet, delicious drug that'll be the death of me.”

Daniel hummed before flattening his tongue against you, loving eyes locked on yours before your head tilted back, throat barely squeaking out a moan. He lapped and lapped and lapped away at you, paying close attention to the way you curled up when the tip of his nose slipped over your clit, your moan changing in pitch. He was always in heaven devouring you like this, until he was somewhat satisfied. He wasn’t selfish and he knew what you wanted, even if he could’ve stayed like that until the sun came up. Feasting.

“Daniel, please.”

“Full naming me when I just wanna make you feel good is mean, baby.”

Daniel was playing. And you were teasing. He loved hearing you moan his whole name – his mind reeling back to the time you screamed out his full name as you came, subsequently rushing him to his own finish line. Exploding.

“I wanna cum around your cock. That’s all I want,” You sighed and finally opened your eyes, clutching and admiring at the sprinkling of chest hair. Daniel was drunk, but not drunk enough to not realise how lucky he was to have you spread out beneath him, pleading for him to fuck you into another dimension.

“Your wish is my… demand? Command? Your wish is my something,” Daniel couldn’t quite find the saying in the midst of his excitement, and you couldn't hold back the fit of laughter as you threw your head into the pillows.

“Smooth, Ricciardo,” You giggled as you felt his slick tip teasing your hole, fists clenched beside your head and a smirk the size of the equator on his face.

“Well how does it go then, smarty pants?” Daniel nodded his head and gently sank into you, revelling in the feeling of you engulfing every inch he had to give while he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head, waiting for your answer.

“I –” You stammered, adjusting and sucking in a sharp breath, “I have no… No idea, and I don’t… fucking care.”

Daniel chuckled as his wispy curls fell into his eyes, watching you lick your lips and gather yourself. You were blurry in his vision, the alcohol now really pumping through his veins as he gripped your hips in his large hands, palms perspiring and brows following suit. Your fingertips trailed from his chest down to his pelvis, skin hot to the touch and tattoos glistening from sheen of sweat covering his perfect body.

“Fuck me just like that… Oh my god.” You snapped open your lust filled eyes – blazing flames erupting in Daniel’s as they caught yours.

“Feels fuckin’ good, ey.”

It was a rhetorical question but you nodded anyway.

Daniel was huffing and puffing as your lips tried to find his, hands cradling his slacked jaw. Drunken sloppy sex was one of your favourite genres and it’d been a hot minute since you’d found yourselves with the taste of red wine still lingering on your tongues, fucking like animals. He was thrusting hard until he noticed your hand crawl down to where your bodies met, the delicate touch slowing his movements and capturing his undivided attention.

“Oi,” Daniel breathed and sat back on his knees, still warming in your tight pussy. Your eyebrows quirked with intrigue and a small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as he grabbed your hand and guided it up to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. Fanning the flames deep inside.

His tongue swiped across your soft fingertips, making sure each one was dripping wet with spit before sliding them back down between your trembling thighs, “Bet that feels better, huh?”

“Mm-hmm. Much better,” You managed to moan out as he wrapped his arm around your lower back and angled your hips up to his cock, watching himself slowly slide in and out while you circled your clit, edging yourself closer with every touch.

Daniel picking up the pace meant he wasn’t far from his high, the tell tale signs were consistent and always a dead giveaway. The flush of red creeping up his neck and veins bulging under his taut skin was the first sign. Filthy words whispered into your ear was the second and grunts vibrating in his chest as his focus was pulled to you and only you were one of the final ones before he couldn’t hold on any longer.

But he never left you high and dry. Not in a million fucking years.

"Right fucking there, Danny!" You shouted, oblivious to your screams almost certainly alerting the neighbouring room. Even if you were conscious of the volume of your voice, you couldn’t have cared less. Your man was putting on a show and you’d be damned if you didn’t make sure he knew how good he was giving it to you.

"I'm right there..."

"Cum all over my cock, beautiful."

You squealed into the pillow you’d been gripping, scrunching your nose at how fucking good he felt filling you to the brim. Daniel eased your thrashing body through the shockwaves, making sure you felt every last writhe of pleasure – every nerve set alight by the fire burning in your stomach as that perfectly tied knot quickly unravelled. He was holding on for dear life, cursing how tight you felt coming around his aching cock.

"I need to see your face, baby. Look at me." 

Daniel’s raspy voice snapped you back to reality as your hips rocked violently against his. That and your blown-out pupils boring into his was enough to send him tumbling over the edge, unloading everything he had and more.

Daniel clutched your shuddering thighs with his searing fingertips as he bucked one, two, three times and placed one of his shaky palms against the hotel wall, trying to catch his breath as he filled you up. Your eyes were lazily shut, slowly regaining some semblance of consciousness and clawing at the skin on Daniel’s abdomen – attempting to soothe him through his high. Selfishly, you were too caught up in your own that you’d forgotten he was even still there. You'd make up for that later.

For now, you were in bliss. Laboured breathing filled the comfortable silence as you searched for one another, floating back down to the real world.

"Come back to me," Daniel teased quietly as a sly grin swept across your face, eyes closed and skin still tingling from his hot touch. He fell beside you and rolled off the bed in search of something, anything to clean up the mess you’d made together.

"I think I've died and gone to heaven," You whispered back, earning a hoarse chuckle in return. Daniel looked like a mirage on a hot summers day when you opened your eyes and watched him exit the en suite, tissue box in hand.

"What a review."

Proudly boasting after sex was a regular occurrence with Daniel and you loved it; encouraged it even. He chucked the tissue away and practically tripped back into bed, still tipsy and feeling the full effects now that he wasn't under your intoxicating spell. At least for now, anyway.

He flicked off the lamp and sent the room into complete darkness before you felt his warm arm snaking around your naked waist, pulling you into his pounding chest. You were exhausted and almost numb from the long night but satisfied above all else. Thirst well and truly quenched.

You could always rely on Danny for that.

click for more of my writing if you're interested.

[fantasyescapes17]

Closed Doors (Part 1)

Soonyoung had made peace with his station in life. A younger son of a little-known family, he was not set to inherit a fortune and had nothing to recommend him but his bright personality. Nobody expected Soonyoung to make the match of the season. But when you- a woman with ties to the royal family and riches beyond his imagination, a Duchess in your own right- seeks Soonyoung's hand in marriage, his life begins to spiral entirely out of his control.

Genre: Hoshi x female!reader. Regency!AU. Your title is the Duchess of Graham but your first name is not mentioned.

Warnings: Not even remotely historically accurate. Much like Bridgerton, this is all about the aesthetic.

Word Count: 4k+

Part 2 Part 3

Series Masterlist [This is not the first installment in this series- it is strongly recommended to visit the Masterlist and read the installments in order as they are all interlinked and the timeline can be confusing.]

“So, the Navy, eh?” 

Soonyoung winced as his elder brother clapped him hard on the back. The evening had barely begun but the elder Kwon had already imbibed too much whisky; a rather embarrassing state to be in, considering that they were at one of the most elite balls of the London season. The hostess-the Duchess of Graham- was arguably the richest and most influential lady of the ton and not someone to be trifled with. 

"The Navy, yes," Soonyoung replied weakly. "I enlist in two weeks."

"I didn't take you for a navy man. But excellent. Excellent, Soonyoung. You will make our family proud!"

The elder Kwon stumbled away, drunk and almost knocking over a pair of young ladies that shot him dirty looks. Soonyoung winced again- this time from embarrassment, and not pain. It was a cruel twist of fate that this bumbling buffoon had inherited the entire Kwon family fortune while Soonyoung was left penniless, merely because he had been born a year later. 

Younger sons were truly at the mercy of their brothers. 

"Soonyoung!" 

Soonyoung turned, relieved to see a close friend and another man who shared in his plight as a younger son. Mr. Lee Seokmin was nearby with a glass of water in his hand. 

"Mr. Lee!" Soonyoung greeted his friend warmly. "I see you are starting off the evening early. Do not tell me you have already secured a young lady's hand for the first dance?"

Seokmin grinned brightly. "I have secured a dance indeed; with Miss Yoon, the season's jewel."

Soonyoung was impressed. "Well! Don't let me stop you! You should hurry- young ladies do not like to be kept waiting, and being brother-in-law to the Viscount will only get you so far if your manners do not match his."

"Of course. I heard of your plans to enlist in the Navy," Seokmin added, his tone a little more serious. He lowered his voice. "We will speak about it after the first dance."

Soonyoung forced a smile and agreed. 

Joining the Navy was not something that Kwon Soonyoung had ever truly wanted to do with his life. But ever since he had been old enough to understand that there was no grand estate or family fortune waiting for him when he became of age, he knew that he could not depend on his brother for hand-outs. 

He had very few respectable options open to him- Soonyoung could have taken up a profession, but a few short years at Oxford made it clear that the study of law or medicine ill suited him. His talents did not lie in poring over books for hours on end. He had quickly transferred to the Royal Naval Academy and begun his training to brave the high seas in service to the country. 

Joining the Navy was less a conscious choice, and more a natural consequence of Soonyoung's talents and position in life. He had long since learned to make peace with it. Perhaps he would capture an infamous pirate and be knighted by the Queen. 

One could dream. 

Soonyoung weaved through the groups of fashionable nobility as he admired the magnificence of the Graham's London manor. It was exquisite. Every wall was covered in antique artwork and every marble column seemed to have been crafted painstakingly. This was perhaps the most magnificent building in all of London, second only to the royal palace itself. Soonyoung felt as though he was unworthy to even tread the white marble floors. 

He was also suddenly struck with the fear that his drunken brother would break something priceless. 

Soonyoung managed to reach the lavish spread of refreshments, and was selecting from the endless rows of colourful little cakes when a hand landed on his arm- much gentler than his brother's had been. He turned around and came face to face with Viscount Hong. 

Handsome, gentlemanly and very rich, Soonyoung was often surprised that Viscount Hong even bothered to fraternise with him. Had they not shared some mutual friends back during their brief overlapping time at Oxford, it would surely have been absurd for the Viscount to even know Soonyoung's name.

But as circumstances had it, the Viscount was well known to Soonyoung. If he was being daring, he might have even called him a friend. 

"Soonyoung! A word?" the Viscount asked. 

Soonyoung nodded eagerly. "Of course! I have not seen you in a while, Viscount; congratulations on your wedding, I never got a chance to properly-"

"Yes, thank you," the Viscount replied kindly but in a tone that made it clear he was not looking to exchange pleasantries. "Soonyoung, I hope that in the time we have known each other we have developed a sort of mutual trust?"

Soonyoung blinked. "Yes?"

"I am going to ask you to do something that may seem rather odd, but I need you to trust me and know that I will explain in due course. Can you do that?" the Viscount asked.

Soonyoung did not hesitate. 

"Of course. Anything."

"Excellent. I need you to ask the Duchess to dance with you for the first dance."

The request was so outrageous that it took a few moments for the full meaning of the words to sink in for Soonyoung. He stared blankly up at the Viscount for a few seconds before sputtering out his protests. 

"The Duchess?" he repeated. "I-I do not even… I have never met her!" 

"That is perfectly fine- I will make the necessary introductions," the Viscount replied smoothly as he began to walk away. Soonyoung was forced to abandon his carefully chosen pink and yellow cakes and follow the Viscount. 

"Viscount Hong…"

"Hurry- the dancing will begin in only a few moments!"

Soonyoung had no choice but to follow the Viscount as he led him to the front of the room. Soonyoung knew of you, of course, there was nobody in the ton who had not heard of the elusive Duchess of Graham. But he had never even seen you in person and the idea of daring to ask a Duchess to dance…

"She will say no," Soonyoung realised quickly. 

The Viscount shook his head. "She will not."

"How do you know-"

"Soonyoung. Take a deep breath. I would never knowingly put you in an embarrassing position," the Viscount promised. 

Soonyoung relaxed a little. 

"All right, I trust you…"

The two gentlemen arrived at the head of the ballroom and Soonyoung's eyes finally landed on the Duchess that he had heard so much about. His breath caught in his throat. 

You were beautiful- in an almost regal, ethereal sort of way. Your exquisite lavender-coloured ball-gown shimmered in the bright lights and little diamond studs twinkled in your ears. But your beauty came  from more than the clothes and jewellery you wore. Your beauty was in the way you carried yourself- in your graceful posture, in the way your soft lips curved in a practised smile and your gloves hands rested delicately in front of you while you nodded at the gentleman speaking to you. 

"Soonyoung?" the Viscount asked, when he stopped walking. "Why have you stopped?"

"I-I can't…"

"Come, quickly."

Soonyoung felt as though he was in a dream. The Viscount seized his arm and pulled him along until the two gentlemen were standing immediately in front of you. 

When you turned your gaze upon him, Soonyoung almost felt as though he should kneel before you, in deference to your superior presence.

"Viscount Hong!" you greeted him with a bright but restrained enthusiasm. Even your voice was melodic and gentle to Soonyoung's ears, like a songbird in spring. "I am very glad to see that you could make it this evening. Is the Viscountess not with you?"

Viscount Hong smiled back. "The Viscountess is just speaking to her brothers, Your Grace. She will greet you momentarily. In the meantime, I wanted to make an introduction."

"Oh?"

Your eyes landed on Soonyoung calmly, and he felt as though every part of his body had turned to ice. Your gaze was not condescending or even unkind, but there was something in your eyes that instantly shattered Soonyoung's vision of you as perfection incarnate. 

Your lips smiled, but your eyes were sad. 

"Your Grace, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Kwon Soonyoung. He is the second son of the Kwon family and a close personal friend of mine," the Viscount said. 

Soonyoung would ordinarily have swelled with pride at being called the Viscount's close personal friend but he did not have the time for such luxuries. Remembering his manners, he clumsily reached for the gloved hand you offered him and brought it to his lips. The soft satin smelled faintly of lilacs. 

"Your Grace," Soonyoung said nervously. "It-it is an honour…"

You smiled at him gently. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Kwon."

Soonyoung looked up for a brief moment and caught the Viscount's eye; the older man was giving him a meaningful look with his big eyes. 'Ask her to dance' was clearly what the Viscount was trying to silently communicate. 

Abandoning all instincts of self-preservation and placing his faith entirely on the word of Viscount Hong, Soonyoung looked at you with a forced smile. 

"Your Grace- may I ask you to accompany me for the first dance?"

—-----------------------------------------------------

Perhaps it was for the best that Soonyoung had little-to-no warning that he was about to open the first and most-awaited event of the season by dancing with the Duchess of Graham, as it left him very little time to consider the serious societal implications of the situation he was in. 

Soonyoung was no stranger to dancing. He loved it and would never refuse an opportunity to dance provided he could find a partner. It was, therefore, a relief when the opening waltz was one that was very familiar to him. His feet moved smoothly and naturally to the tune of the music and it allowed his mind the freedom to think of what to say to you. 

"I hope you are having a pleasant evening," you said to him politely. Soonyoung was trying in vain to ignore the soft scent of lilacs coming from you (were there fresh flowers entwined in your hair? He was too flustered to look closely) and it took him a few moments to realise that he should compliment you, the hostess, on your ball. 

"Yes!" Soonyoung said quickly. "Yes, the evening is wonderful, this far exceeds the usual events of the London season."

"In what way?" you wondered aloud. 

"In what-sorry, in what way?" he repeated. 

"In what way does it exceed the usual events?" you repeated patiently. 

Soonyoung was stumped. There were real lilacs entwined in the strands of your hair and it was growing far more difficult to keep his thoughts in line. What should he say? The size of the ballroom? The orchestra? The lighting?

"You have a much wider selection of cakes," he said finally. The words had barely come out of his mouth before he instantly realised how stupid they sounded- but to his surprise, you were biting back a small smile. For a moment, he saw that strange lingering sadness disappear from your eyes. 

"The cakes?" you repeated, amused. 

It was too late. He could not extricate himself from this conversation now. Soonyoung had no choice but to double down on his admiration of the cakes. 

"Yes," he continued. "It is quite standard for London balls to offer one or two choices of cake, but I had a chance to pass by the refreshment tables earlier and there were eight different cake selections available."

"I see," you replied. "I suppose that you like cake a great deal, Mr. Kwon?"

Soonyoung blinked. "Don't you?"

"I do like cake, but I will confess that it never occurred to me to use it as a measurement to assess the quality of a ball. I hope you will be kind enough to let me know which of the cakes you liked best? I am sure my kitchen staff would be pleased to learn that their spread had an impact on my guests."

You were not making fun of him. The Duchess of Graham was quite seriously discussing cakes with him at the season's opening ball. 

Soonyoung felt light-headed. 

"I thought the strawberry ones were quite refreshing," he choked out finally. "Strawberries are in season, of course, and the freshness of the flavouring ingredient makes a world of difference."

"Interesting," you said thoughtfully. "Yes; I suppose it is natural for one's cake preference to vary based on the freshness of the seasonal fruit. We grow strawberries back on the country estate this time of year and have them brought over to London so they are quite fresh. I think the weather is right for lemons as well. I am partial to a lemon cake."

"The lemon cakes are delightful," Soonyoung agreed eagerly. "I had a chance to try one earlier. But if I may offer a suggestion- I think a lemon cream might be a lighter and more refreshing option."

"Considering the warm weather?" you asked, interested. "I agree completely. Lemon cakes can be quite dense in the heat. We should have some lighter options as well. I will pass on your recommendation to my cook."

"I hope you will make it clear that the recommendation was not intended as a slight against the cake, which was quite excellent," Soonyoung said hastily.

You smiled. "Of course. I will convey the message."

"Thank you."

The waltz slowly drew to an end and Soonyoung was forced to release you, stepping away from you until he could no longer smell the lilacs in your hair. 

"Thank you for the dance, Mr. Kwon," you told him in your gentle, song-like voice. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

"T-thank you, Your Grace."

You left and Soonyoung quickly stepped away from the dance floor towards the edge of the room. He was so intoxicated by the memory of your voice and smile and scent that he almost bumped head-first into Seokmin, who was waiting for him with a large smile. 

"Did you just dance with the Duchess?" Seokmin demanded, in awe. "How did that come to happen?"

Soonyoung could only shrug. "I… I don't know."

"Unbelievable. What did you talk about? Her title? Did you offer your condolences for her father's death? Is it true that she is planning to marry soon and that the dukedom will pass through the female line?"

Soonyoung blinked. "What?"

"You didn't ask her about any of those things? What did you talk about?"

"Just…" Soonyoung cleared his throat, embarrassed to admit the actual subject of conversation. "We only made light conversation. About the weather and the like. Anyway, was there something you wished to discuss? About the Navy?"

Seokmin's smile fell. "Oh- yes, the Navy. When are you enlisting?"

"In two weeks."

"I am considering joining you," Seokmin admitted. His expression was somewhat glum. "I know things have been looking up for my family since my sister married the Viscount, but I can hardly live off my brother-in-law for the rest of my life."

Soonyoung blinked. "The Viscount would support you in a heartbeat. So would Jihoon."

"Yes- which only makes it all the more embarrassing to depend on their generosity," Seokmin replied with a sigh. He looked up at his friend and offered him his hand. "Shall we go explore the high seas together, Soonyoung?"

Soonyoung shook his hand with a smile. 

"Let's capture some pirates."

"Aye, aye!"

—------------------------------------------------

Soonyoung had not forgotten to seek an explanation from the Viscount for his strange behaviour at the Duchess' ball, but the opportunity did not come immediately. 

Viscount Hong's younger sister- Miss Hong- had been caught in a scandal the very evening of the ball and the Viscount was away making arrangements for her hushed wedding to Mr. Jeon Wonwoo. Soonyoung could hardly knock on the Viscount's door in those circumstances and demand to know why he had asked him to dance with the Duchess of Graham. 

"You must tell us what the Duchess is like," Mr. Kim Mingyu pressed Soonyoung over a game of cards at the gentlemen's club. The handsome rake had a cigar sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he scanned his cards. "I've heard so many things about her."

"What have you heard?" Soonyoung asked curiously. 

"The usual story of how she acquired her title, of course. The late Duke had no surviving male heirs. The dukedom would have died with him, but the Grahams have always been very intimate with the royal family. On his deathbed he sought a special decree from the Queen herself- to allow his title to pass through his only daughter."

Soonyoung nodded. He knew this story. The entire ton knew this story- it had been one of the most discussed topics of the past year. 

"The first woman to be a Duchess by birth and not by marriage," Seokmin remarked as he set down a card. "Does that mean that whoever she marries becomes the Duke of Graham?"

Mingyu nodded. "Naturally so."

"Who would she marry? Surely a Prince? Or another Duke?" Soonyoung wondered. He still remembered that brief dance with you at the ball- you were the picture of beauty and perfection. He could not imagine you settling for anyone less. 

"All the other Dukes are curmudgeonly old men," Mingyu said dismissively. "The Duchess is young and beautiful enough not to have to settle for any of them. Considering her ties to the royal family and that she is a close personal favourite of the Queen- yes, I'd say a Prince is far more likely."

Seokmin sighed. "That would be some celebration," he said wistfully before turning to Soonyoung. "Pity we won't be around to see it, eh, Soonyoung? We will have departed for the Navy by then."

Soonyoung hummed. The day of his planned enlistment drew nearer and the dread in his heart grew greater and greater as the reality of his future sunk in. He was not certain how Seokmin could remain optimistic and casual about their upcoming enlistment.

Mingyu winced as he put out his cigar. "Are you two really doing that? The Navy? Isn't there some other way to come into a fortune- preferably one that does not involve placing yourself in mortal peril?"

Soonyoung scoffed as he played his turn at cards. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Kim, sole heir to a Kim family fortune so large that you've gambled away thousands of pounds and somehow still kept your estate intact. Remind me how much you owe Mr. Yoon again?"

Seokmin chuckled. "There is an idea. Perhaps we can play Mr. Kim for his estate."

Mingyu chuckled and leaned back in his seat. "If it prevents you both from going to the Navy, I'm game."

"The Navy is the only option that really gives men of uncertain fortune like us a chance to earn enough to compete with family money," Soonyoung explained with a sigh. He had done his research- there was no other way. "If one can climb the ranks to obtain a command and sink some enemy ships, the spoils of war are often lucrative enough to justify the effort."

Mingyu was not impressed. "If you survive long enough."

"What would you suggest instead, wise one?"

Mingyu's eyes twinkled. "Haven't you two considered simply marrying into fortune? You're both handsome young gentlemen. I am sure you could find a damsel with a large enough dowry to support you."

"So you would have us become dowry hunters," Soonyoung replied. 

"If you want to put it so crudely…"

"Your rakish behaviour is only passable among the ton because of your fortune, Mr. Kim. I am fairly certain that if Seokmin or I attempted to seduce young ladies of fortune as brazenly as you do, we would have been shot by their fathers or brothers," Soonyoung replied drily. 

Seokmin chuckled. "I'd rather die at sea."

"I will drink to that."

Soonyoung allowed his friend to refill his glass with whisky and sipped it. It occurred to him how much he would miss these casual evenings in London- playing cards and having a drink with his friends as they bickered and joked without a care in the world. 

But life could not be so easy. He had to prove himself in the world. 

The entrance to the gentlemen's club opened and a lone figure walked in. It was Viscount Hong, looking more tired than Soonyoung had ever seen him. He nodded politely at the gathered  gentlemen in greeting. 

"Viscount Hong!" Seokmin greeted him cheerfully. "Join us for a game?"

The Viscount sighed. "I'm afraid I'm not up for any gambling tonight but I will have a drink," he said. One of the waiters came rushing over to pour him a fresh glass of whisky as the Viscount took one of the empty seats at their card table. "It has been a difficult week."

Mingyu nodded. "Have Mr. and Mrs. Jeon left for the countryside?"

The Viscount lifted his glass and emptied it into his mouth before responding. "Yes- I would say that it turned out alright in the end, but I am not sure anyone benefitted from this mess, really. Except perhaps Baron Wright."

Seokmin gestured for the waiter to refill the Viscount's glass. "Say the word and we can deal with the Baron- we'll call it a hunting accident."

The Viscount seemed mildly amused. "Thank you, Seokmin, but there's really no need to murder anyone on my behalf. I doubt the Viscountess would forgive me if you ended up in the gallows on my family’s account."

Seokmin shrugged. "I'm bound for the Navy in a few weeks."

The Viscount laughed. "You must be mad if you think your sister would ever allow that."

"It is not her decision."

The Viscount shook his head lightly. "Far be it from me to interfere with my wife and her siblings. But I am fairly certain that you will not be heading to the Navy as you imagine, Seokmin. Nor, for that matter, will Soonyoung."

Soonyoung, halfway through his third whisky and beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol, looked up and blinked. "Sorry?"

The Viscount turned to face him with an apologetic smile. "I was going to explain why I pressed you to dance with the Duchess that evening, but I am afraid more urgent events distracted my attention. But first- am I correct in assuming that your enlistment in the Navy is only due to your need for a fortune and not due to an actual passion for the high seas?"

Soonyoung cleared his throat. The Viscount was very correct but it was an awkward thing to admit. "I mean, I was planning on capturing some pirates and building my own fortune."

Mingyu chuckled halfway through his attempt to light his second cigar. "Yes, Kwon Soonyoung, with his talent for the Viennese waltz and preference for lemon cream is the ideal man to defend our seas and capture pirates."

Viscount Hong ignored him. "And if there was an easier way for you to come into fortune?"

Soonyoung raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"By marriage."

"Don't bother, Viscount," Mingyu said lightly. "I have suggested it already, but these two gentlemen are determined not to present themselves as dowry hunters."

"What if the young lady of fortune approached you first?" 

"And where do you plan to find a young lady of fortune mad enough to do that?" Mingyu joked. 

Viscount Hong gave Mingyu a sharp look which silenced him and then set down his glass of whisky on the table. He turned in his chair to fully face Soonyoung. The look in his eyes was serious and for a moment, Soonyoung felt something akin to anxiety stir in his stomach. 

"What is it, Viscount Hong?" Soonyoung asked nervously. 

"The… Duchess of Graham has expressed an interest in marrying you, Soonyoung."

—------------------------------------------------

[twee-too]

A Strawhat Sleepover Zoro x Sanji x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

word count: 7k

small summary: Luffy, Usopp, and chopper had a great idea. They decided to throw a crew sleepover, but when alcohol and party games get introduced, the peaceful night gets a lot more interesting.

CW: Threesome, face fucking, oral (M&F), Drunk sex, slight neck grabbing

A/N: just wanted to point out that this is my first time writing a fanfic(Audible gasp) so it might or might not suck ass 💀 imma apologize in advance for any spelling mistakes/ incorrect sentences or smthing 😭 But hope yall enjoy it!

Also gonna colour code the names teehee

(some ppl share a colour cuz theres only so many 😒)

Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Usopp, Chopper, Robin

since they say shii in this they get colours (sorry franky and brook)

You and the strawhats just finished the dinner your cook Sanji had prepared. Your captain had looked like he was about to pop, his belly gotten so round from all the food he just consumed. You'd tried to contain the smile that was about to form from how Luffy looked like an overstuffed Turkey, but having your fellow cremates Usopp and Chopper laughing hysterically in your ear wasn't helping. You eventually broke out laughing after Luffy had tried to get up but falling in the process making a cartoon "boing" sound effect.

It was getting late and the crew had slowly started to do their nightly routine. You had just put on your pajamas when all of a sudden you hear Luffy yell " EVERYONE COME TO THE DECKKKKK!!!! " you obviously hear your loud captain and rush to the deck.

Everyone had arrived eager to know what they were called for. An emergency? a marine Ship spotted? another Pirate Ship that had threaten to attack the Sunny and steal all our-

....

"Guys! Usopp, chopper, and I had a great idea!! We should all have a sleepover on the deck since chopper has never been to a sleepove-" Before he could finshes Nami and Sanji started beating poor Luffy and Usopp up, forgetting Chopper had also been a part of this.

"YOU GUYS ARE SO STUPID!! I THOUGHT SOMETHING BAD HAPPENED"

Nami scolded the both of them hard, You stood there rubbing your head in relief/annoyance. On one hand yay! nothing is wrong. On the other hand. Dumbasses.

Through luffys beaten up faces, he mustered up a muffled apologized

"WHY DID I GET PUNCHED? CHOPPER WAS THE ONE THAT BROUGHT IT UP!"

"DON'T BRING ME INTO THIS"

"YOU WERE ALREADY IN THIS"

"ALL OF YOU BE QUIET"

...

All of this was too much, especially for it being night time, but a sleepover doesn't sound too bad, The wind had been stale for the whole day and the ship had barely made it anywhere, so spending more time with your fellow crewmates couldn't be so bad right? You along with chopper had never been to a sleepover so this idea sparked the inner child in you. After all the fuss had worn off, the others had given their thoughts on the idea.

"I think the idea isn't too bad"

you were honestly a little surprised that Robin was willing to do it, actually thinking about it... it would be nice to hear her read a bedtime story for everyone, the way she reads storys never fails to soothe you.

"Me too! as long as we get to do sleepover stuff...like...uhh..."

The crew looked at you waiting to hear an example.

. . .

"To be honest I have no clue" You shrugged giving an embarrassed smile.

"ahh y/n, there's a ton of stuff to do during a sleepover! Like pillow fights, storytelling, playing tricks on people-"

Usopp was suddenly cut off at the burst of thought Nami had

"Yea! and we can also tell spoooky storys!"

Nami gave an evil stare at Usopp, knowing how much of a scaredy-cat he is.

"WHATCHA LOOKIN' AT ME FOR?!"

" Ya know what? I think a sleepover is a great idea as well!"

" I think this sounds stupid, I want my sleep"

"Zoro... You take naps every day, I think you'll be fine"

"tsk" Zoro gave an annoyed look

"Fine, if it'll stop all your whining"

of course, Sanji said yes, if thats what it takes to spend more time with the ladies he'll put up with the other's shenanigans.

Everyone had agreed, and now comes the sleepover prepping! Since there were no sleeping bags on board they loaded up in blankets and pillows! Luffy was telling Sanji the snacks, food, and drinks he wanted him to prepare. Usopp, Chopper, and Franky had all started to come up with stuff to do in case they start to get bored. Robin, Nami, and brook were collecting some stories to read, Nami and brook were getting the scariest ones, and you were setting up the sleeping area with Zoro.

You and Zoro we on good terms, you would sometimes ask him to help you train and would study him a lot. You were never really a love-crazy person, but something about the way Zoro carries himself made your heart beat a little faster, It got especially worse when you started hanging around him more often. Obviously you would never want to admit this, even if you do sometimes let your mind wander off thinking about him, or would sometimes catch yourself staring at him too hard while he trained. You don't want to admit you have a slight crush on him, because if you did you'd only have your heart broken. You respected Zoro, but you also acknowledge how empty-headed he can be, you know that someone like Zoro doesn't do love, the only thing on his mind was swords, sake, and sleep. You'd sometimes daydream about what he'd be like as a boyfriend, but you knew it would never work between you two. Although you knew all of this... you still had those nights when you'd crave his touch, fantasizing what it would feel like to have his big thick hands caress the hot inners of your thighs, feel the warmth of his body against yours, the idea of having him manhandle you all night long just excited you.

"Oi, you should pick whichever blanket and pillow you want before the others get back"

With that you snapped back from being lost in thought, all this Zoro nonsense was starting to get to your head. You didn't want to like him, but your heart said "hmm yes, sword-man"

it was first come first serve when it came to the blankets/pillows, some were better than others so you took the chance to take the best ones. Zoro on the other hand took whichever one he picked up first.

You didn't know where to lay your stuff, so you just picked the middle of the deck. Zoro just plopped his stuff across from yours. Your feelings regarding him just kept coming back to your head, but after hearing Sanji and Luffy come out of the kitchen and the others start returning to the deck, you felt more at ease.

Sanji and Luffy were carrying some snacks that the chef had prepared, dead eyeing Luffy to make sure he didn't even eat a crumb of it, alas, we know how Luffy is.

A few kicks in the hip later and everyone had finally settled down into their sleeping area, Sanji though was handing out special desserts he had made for the ladies. You know how Sanji is.

When you first joined the crew you had a pretty big crush on Sanji, he had stolen your heart with his kindness, respect, and obviously his gentlemanliness. You knew if you wanted to be in a relationship with him, you could. However as time went on, your thoughts started flying everywhere, you'd wonder if he'd be a committed boyfriend, and you'd soon come to your conclusion that he just didn't seem like the loyal type, though you didn't have any proof of this well other then the fact he acts like a dog in heat around other women, thoughts just kept building up to the point where you started to distance yourself from him a little. Not by too much, just ignoring his flirtatious comments/compliments, never being in a room alone with him, and always being one of the first people to leave the kitchen after they're done eating. However, even with all your efforts to get this man outta your heart, you still can't look him in the eyes for too long without blushing, the way he gazes at you so softly always makes your heart melt.

"Y/n! I made you this pastry, I put all my heart into it! I hope it tastes as good as you look~"

His stupid heart-eyed expression always annoyed you, he'd do that to any girl he sees in a 1-mile radius. You thanked him and took his pastry, adverting eye contact.

You hated how pathetic you felt, both Zoro and Sanji had no clue how they made you feel, and that alone made you feel so small, and it's not like you'd do anything to change that. You just needed to grow up.

As the night went on the straw hat pirates did a list of activities to do. They built a blanket fort, made s'mores (Sanji did all the work, although Luffy did try to make a fire that almost ended in setting the ship on fire merry pt2) Had a pillow fight (which resulted in a few people flying off the ship) Played hide and seek, told scary storys, and finally ending in Robin reading everyone a bedtime story. You almost forgot this was a sleepover and not a party from how much fun you were having, but good things have to come to an end. Everyone was falling asleep, and you were even finding yourself..dozing...off....into.......sleep..............

....

"ACK"

You jolted up awake looking around confused, then look down to see what just hit you...

ah.

You piece the puzzle together, luffy had somehow turned upside down in his sleep and kicked you in the face by accident.

You wanted to hit him back but decided not to, you knew it'd wake up the others in the process.

You looked around to see everyone dead asleep with snores echoing to the area. you guessed it has been a few hours since everyone had fallen asleep. You get up and stretched your back, rubbing your eyes and making your way to the kitchen to grab a drink. You tried to not wake anyone up but it was hard considering it was like a maze to get out of with everyone sleeping on the floor and all. You'd soon happen to walk right above Sanji without even realizing, he grunted softly and adjusted his legs a little but that was enough movement to stop you right in your tracks. You could hear nothing but your heartbeat, it was a nerve-wracking feeling. You stared at him for a while, letting a deep sigh out. You were standing right above his face, with each foot on each side of his shoulder, if he were to wake up to this sight of you... you'd die of embarrassment, never being able to look at him the same. The more you stood there, the more your mind spun with late-night thoughts,

"what if I just sat on his face"

As soon as you thought that you turned bright red, and finally continued your way to the kitchen.

Finally, you made it to the kitchen, after what felt like years. You grab a cup and start filling it up with water until you hear someone walking outside the kitchen, your heart almost skipping a beat. You thought everyone had been off in dreamland at this time of night, but someone was awake aside from you.

You where just about to go see who it is until you hear a loud thud, then some arguing. You had a sneaking suspicion of who it was.

You walked over to check the deck and alas, Zoro had "accidentally" stepped on Sanji's foot, causing Sanji to wake up. They were about to start a commotion until you grabbed their attention and Motion them to shush.

You were thinking how this can get any worse? They end up coming to the kitchen to see what you're up to. At this point, you're panicking a little bit, you alone with the two of them? that thought alone gets your mind racing. You assure yourself that nothing is going to happen.

"Whatcha doing awake at this time of hour?"

"Luffy kicked me awake, I was just grabbing a glass of water."

"Are you ok?? does it still hurt??"

Sanji walked over to you to get a better look at your face, his face closer than it has ever been to yours, his eyes...you felt your heart doing break dances in the sudden excitement but also felt embarrassed. You dodged the eye contact and nervously faked laughed

"Ya! im fine, don't worry it wasn't too hard"

you walked off to take a seat at the table, cup in hand.

"Zoro, what'ya up for?"

"I heard some movement and noise... came to check who it was, ended up waking this guy up to"

Sanji shot an annoyed stare at Zoro, and Zoro shot one back. The tension between them was getting out of hand, you just wanted to drink your water in peace. You decided to cut the water short and go back to sleep, you were about to get up but Zoro gave an idea.

"Well, since we'll all awake, how about we do something while we have a drink"

"That's just your dumb excuse to drink sake you stupid celery stick."

"and what about it? you curly fry!"

What did he wanna do? Zoro went to grab the sake, Sanji looked like steam was about to come out his ears.

He'd had gotten 2 sake bottles and 1 empty one.

"I knew you were an idiot but come on? I hope you know thats an empty bottle"

"of course I know you dumbass"

Zoro was gritting his teeth in anger. You couldn't help but wonder what the empty bottle was for... Zoro placed the three bottles down, he had brought 2 cups for the sake and gave one to you, he didn't care enough to bring one for Sanji. He sat back down and poured himself a cup, he put the second bottle closer to you. You looked at Sanji, but he was too busy giving Zoro a dirty look.

"Whatever! I didn't wanna drink anyways"

You knew you couldn't handle sake, it was too strong for your taste. 2 or 3 cups full would probably get you pretty drunk. You decided to fill the cup up and down it. You never really liked the taste of sake, you didn't understand how Zoro can drink this stuff all the time.

"Time to play truth or dare"

Zoro smirked as he looked at both you and Sanji. Your eyes widen a little.

"you're on"

"What?"

Zoro placed the bottle down ready to spin, it's not really how you play truth or dare, at least not the way you played it. there was never a bottle involved?.

He spins the bottle, sending it spinning around the table. You were sitting at the end table while Zoro was sitting on the left and Sanji on the right. The bottle stopped closer to the left side.

"Your up Zoro, truth or dare"

"dare"

Zoro didn't even hesitate, caught you a little off guard, but that didn't stop you from coming up with something.

" Yell out the first word that comes to your head "

"SAKE."

You shook a bit when he yelled that. You didn't expect him to do it so fast without hesitation. He drank more of his sake and spun the bottle again. You were a little scared, but you felt excited. But that excitement soon turned to dread when you saw the bottle slowly stop on you.

"Y/n! Truth or dare?"

"uhh...truth?..."

You had thought that truth would've been better than dare, you were in the heat of the moment, and it's usually common knowledge that dare is worse than truth, but for a split second, you had forgotten what situation you were in. You had forgotten who you were with.

"hmm..."

there was a moment of silence between the three of you. The tension was ripping you apart. You drank another cup of your sake. You were trying to make a mental note to not drink too much, but all you could focus on was the words that were going to come out of one of their mouths. They both looked at each other, then at you, then back at each other. You felt your palms begin to sweat a little, you were cupping them in between your legs playing with your thumbs.

"What is your biggest fantasy?"

Sanji was staring at you like you were about to tell them where the one piece was. The sudden attention on you had you suddenly blush. You couldn't look them in the eye, you couldn't even think of a fake answer. The first thing that came to your mind was having your way with both of them. Your face grew red and knew that you couldn't just say nothing. You started to feel the sake, you started to crack a smile. You couldn't hide it now, they were staring at you wondering what you were thinking.

"M-my fantasy..."

Your eyes looking down the whole time, you weren't brave enough to bring them up. your imagination was running wild, and before you realized it, you were spacing out again

"Is-- too--... be with..."

You realized what you were about to say and blinked away the dumbness. You quickly looked up to see them, but that only sent more butterflies to attack your tummy. You caught both of their eyes and felt yourself burning up.

"be with? what do you like someone?"

When Zoro said that Sanji looked like his soul had flown out of his body. You had no idea what to say, you had dug your own grave.

"ah n- uh well... uhm..."

With the sake and the level of embarrassment, you were feeling right now you couldn't form a clear sentence. You thought maybe you should drink more sake, to loosen up, but then who knows what'll you'll say next

"y/n— do you really like someone??"

Sanji was in disbelief, To be honest, it was a more genuine reaction than what you would have thought.

"That isn't... the question... I don't have to answer that"

Even without saying it both of them knew You had someone in your heart. Little did they know it was the two of them! You knew your cover was busted. They just couldn't find out it was them.

"alright fine, let's change the question, who do you like y/n?"

Zoro had an evil grin on his face, it annoyed you to the core. It also annoyed you that they were pressing you about a whole new question!

"That wasn't the original q-question! That's... not fair!"

"Well, you didn't answer the other question in time, so time for a new one."

You were beyond annoyed but also nervous as hell. How has this situation gotten worse? You cursed Zoro for being such a dick! You hated that you liked him. Plus Sanji is over there eager to know your answer, giving you all his undivided attention.

"I like...some guy...you don't know him"

Sanji looked so defeated, While Zoro over there just stared at you, you weren't even able to keep eye contact for a second without feeling your face warm up. You dont understand what they expected, or what you should've said??

The night goes on and after a while, the truths started to become worse than the dares. There was a rule where you could only pick the same thing 3 times in a row or else on your 4th time the other players get to pick for you. There were some incidents where you forgot the rule and it ended in an embarrassing mess. You'd had taken your last cup of sake for the night making it at 4 cups and at that point your inner self was on do not disturb and your embarrassment had flown out the window, the men in front of you took notice of this. Now, The bottle is on Sanji, you are thinking of a truth question but you just end up blurting out the first thing you think of.

"hehehe.... What ... turns you on the most? sannnji~"

Your question caught both Zoro and Sanji completely off guard. You went from not being able to make eye contact to this? You stayed giggly and kept looking at the stunned blonde. Sanji was Speechless, his face blushed with a little bit of pink. None of them have ever seen this side of you. It was a turn-on in itself!

"haa...uhh..probably would be..."

He already knew the answer, but could never say it was you, but of course he wants to say you. He's loved you ever since you joined the crew. He loves you so much it hurts to not be around you, but he doesn't want to force anything or make things uncomfortable for you. He didn't want to say anything to you because he couldn't read you sometimes, one day you'll be kind to him and the next you'd be giving him the cold shoulder. He didn't want to make the wrong move so he just went your flow, but by doing so it sorta created a distance between the two of you. He always tells himself it's what you want, but it still breaks him. He'd think about you every night before he slept, hoping one day you love him as much as he loves you. He doesn't like to think of himself as a pervert, but every now and then when he's taking care of "Business" he'd always Dream of you, how you'd look completely exposed under him while he plants a kiss over your soft face, then on your neck, then your perked up breast, thinking of that alone can get him stone hard.

He looked at you, you looked so adorable, like nothing in the world mattered.

"as long as its the person I love, anything they do can get me going"

He didn't break eye contact, but gave a soft smile to you, it was like he was trying to tell you with his eyes. You on the other hand were too drunk to get the memo. Sanji grabbed the bottle and gave it a hard spin. It eventually stopped on Zoro, he had only been doing dares when given the chance, so now it's his turn to do truth. You gave him this Big cheeky smile alongside a giggle. After that question Sanji got, Zoro wasn't too excited about whatever you were about to spit out.

"....How many ...people have you slept with?"

He knew he shouldn't be surprised but damn. Your expression plus the way you said that was so....he felt his heart skipping and doing a little dance. You looked so vulnerable in his eyes, made him just wanna carry you to somewhere private and have his way with you. He didn't even realize he had feelings for you, not until a few weeks ago. He was Training like usual but it felt more empty like Something was missing. when he was done, he saw you talking to Luffy. He knew nothing was going on between you two but something about how happy you looked bugged the hell outta him. He wanted to just walk over and sweep you away, he wanted you to only ever be that happy when you're with him. That's when he realized, what was he thinking? he thought he might've been tired so he took a nap but even in his dreams he saw you, but you were so out of reach. It drove him crazy, to the point he couldn't even look at you without feeling a pain in his chest. He knew at that point it was love, it had to be.

"Hmm, 3"

Zoro had been with a few people way before he had met Luffy, but this news absolutely blew you away, you couldn't even hide how visibly surprised you were. This meant that Zoro actually cared about his love life?? well at least his sex life, but you were jumping to conclusions. This all hit you at once, like a big sign that said "YOU HAVE A CHANCE" you didn't even know what to say, but before you could muster up anything he had already gone and spun the bottle. You were still processing all the thoughts in your head, not even noticing the bottle barely on your side.

"y/n Truth or dare"

now that you know Zoro could potentially develop feelings, you go in for the kill. At this point, you had all the confidence in the world.

"I p-pick truth!!"

you were riding the little bit of hope you had, you fully believed in yourself. You were ready for whatever they were about to say! However You took a look at Zoro, he was giving this devilish smirk and looked like he was trying to contain a laugh. He looked up to meet your eyes.

"Who would you rather want to sleep with, Me, or Curlybrows?"

You looked at Zoro, a little puzzled, even Sanji let out a small gasp, he didn't think Zoro would ask such a straightforward question. Zoro knew if worse came to worse he could blame it on the booze.

You knew that too.

...

"I-I'd rather sleep with both of you"

You saying that felt like a 10-ton hammer had been lifted off of you. You felt so free now that you have nothing to hide anymore. Other than your feelings. Maybe they got the hint? you looked back at them, both flushed with a red tint down to their neck, Sanji grabbing a tissue to block the blood from coming out his nose while Zoro froze up. The room went silent for a moment until it was broken by the sound of Zoro's chair backing up. You looked up at Zoro wondering what he was doing? Maybe you weirded him out and he was leaving, you never stopped looking at him until he had walked right up to you.

"It's a damn shame you didn't say just me, but hey, better than nothing"

Quickly he spun your chair to face him and leaned forward to grab your chair armrest.

"You idiot marimo! Whattya-"

Sanji quickly got up to back Zoro away from you.

"Shut it you shitty chef... listen for a second"

He never broke eye contact with you. Him leaning above you gripping your arm rests for some reason turned you on? the roughness was extremely hot.

"I know your drunk.... but tell me where you being serious"

You were confused why Zoro took it so personally. In response to his question, you shook your head yes. He moved his face closer to your ear, you could feel his body warmth from how close he was.

" would you wanna do it now? "

His words lingered in your ear, his deep whispery voice made you clinch your thighs together. Took a second for you nod yes, you haden't fully realized your actions before Zoro picked you up and plopped you on his shoulder your ass towards his face while you stared dumbfounded at Sanji.

"You heard her Curlybrows, she wants us to fuck her"

You've never seen Sanji so flabbergasted, it was honestly kinda cute, but that was the last thing on your mind right now. They were gonna what you? you looked at Sanji to see him following Zoro, bring more tissues. You cover your face, you didn't know if he was joking or not, but here you are at The aquarium bar. No one was gonna hear anything, was he being serious??

He sat you down on the long sofa, giving you a peck on the forehead. Sanji then followed by sitting next to you. He looked eager to touch you, his eyes scanning your body, but he took your hand and kissed all around it, kissing your palm, your fingers, your knuckles, then finally looking at you, the light from the aquarium tank made him look so Beautiful.

"Are you sure you want this darling?"

Your heart almost exploded in your chest, this is what you've been waiting for, this moment right now. To give them all your love. You felt Zoro take your other hand and kiss your wrist slowly trailing up, stopping on your skin and looking at you, waiting for your answer.

"yes...

Please..."

You could feel Zoros smirk on your skin, he snuck a few more kisses in and got up on his feet.

"Curlybrow."

Zoro balled his hand in a fist, initiating a game of rock paper scissors. Without questioning, Sanji did the same.

"Rock, paper Scissors"

Sanji had won.

Zoro gave a defeated look, while even tho Sanji had no clue why they were doing this, he was still smug because he had won.

Zoro took your hand and tugged you in front of him, your back directly on his chest. You could feel his erection on your ass, and knowing how turned on he was made you even hornier.

"I got top, you got bottom"

Sanji was already happy he beat Zoro, but now he gets to eat you out too? he couldn't be more excited. He got on his knees and slowly started taking off your shorts, letting them drop to your ankles. He couldn't believe the sight he was seeing, taking it all in and staring without making a move, the way he eyed your wet panties made you needier.

You jolted a little when you felt a wet kiss on the crease of your underwear, he licked the brim, and he kissed all around your panties just before spreading your thighs more to get a better angle of your covered pussy. He started to lick your clit through your panties, he could already tell how wet you were before he even started. He suckled and pushed his saliva through your underwear making you lean into his mouth, even with your panties on he still somehow managed to devour you.

While Sanji was getting busy feasting on your honeypot, Zoro had already crawled his way under your shirt into your bra. He had mange to sleep with women before, but that doesn't mean he knows how to take off a bra, after all, he's still a dumbass. you could tell he was struggling a little, which made you internally giggle and crack a half smile until he had enough and literally ripped that shit in half. The shock shoved you deeper into Sanji's face causing you to slightly moan, you saw your ripped bra fall to the floor and a pair of Big calloused hands Touch you up. Your soft skin, your scent, and your little gasps at every touch were driving Zoro mad. He was a hungry beast and you were the only cure for his Hunger. He dug his face into your neck while he messaged your breasts, sucking your shoulder, then moving to the side of your neck, from the side moving to the back. You could feel him taking in your Pleasant aroma, it gave you Goosebumps.

You were getting needier, you wanted more. It felt as if they were just testing the waters, you bit the inside of your bottom lip slightly staring at Sanji's head. He kissed all around your thigh, lifting his head and now making eye contact with you.

"Can I take this off, sweetheart?"

He tugged slightly at your panties, his eyes were as soft as his touch. You nodded your head yes and felt him slowly take them off. You felt the cold air meet your wet cunt, you could also feel how wet your panties were when he took them off. Your legs flinched a little at the new cold atmosphere. Your bottoms have completely been taken off and were fully exposed. you could just feel Sanji's extreme gaze on you, he rubbed his hand up and down your thigh as he pecked kisses all around the front of your pussy.

His tongue taking lead and slowly made a sloppy trail to meet your slit. You twitch your legs slightly closer and a small airy "ah" moans out your mouth. You could feel Sanji's mouth touch your sweet clit, he groaned into your cunt making your legs shake. Zoro was getting busy full-on needing your tits, He brushed against your now erected nipples, toying with them. He made sure to not fully play with them just to tease you a little.

"Z-Zoro"

You whisper bringing your hand to touch your breasts, but before you could Zoro pinned your hands behind your back and pushed his boner into your ass, slamming your pussy all in Sanji's face. you let out a desperate moan as you felt Sanji's groan vibrate throughout your body, he didn't stop his feast and continued to eat you out. His tongue flicked your clit at a rapid pace, sucking and licking like that was the last meal he'll ever eat. You jolted at the sudden bite Zoro had marked on the side of your neck. He was still holding your hands tight, he won't allow you to help him. With his free hand he grabbed your face by the cheeks to pull you into a wet kiss. He groaned into your mouth and could feel how hard he was breathing, he slide his tongue in pushing your faces closer together like he wanted to merge.

You both pulled out of your intense kiss, gasping for air. Sanji wasn't letting up, his tongue was like a gift from god. He went from fast licking and suckles, to slow tongue glides across your sensitive spot. You felt Zoros mouth right over your ear, He bit it softly and sucked on the area he had bit. You let out a louder moan, goosebumps ran through your body as you felt Zoros wet tongue enter your ear. The feeling was so new, your body squirmed at the feeling, but that only made you rub against Sanji's tongue more. His wet tongue moved its way along the inside of your ear, you could hear his groans Crystal clear. You felt yourself coming to a climax, Your back arched and you locked Sanji's face in between your thighs.

"I-I'm— ahh!"

You couldn't form a sentence, the pleasure was too immense. They understood that you were about to cum, you felt Sanji pick the pace up a little, and Zoro with played with your nipples. You let out a finishing moan and leaned forward into Sanji's face, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your legs shook profusely as you felt overwhelmed, you were on your tippy toes at this point. Drool ran down your face as you felt you're high come down, your legs became weak as Sanji pulled away. Zoro had bear-hugged you for support just in case, you were breathing so heavily it sounded like you were whimpering.

Sanji kissed your thigh, his soft wet lips against the inside of your Shakin thigh made you Twitch. Zoro still hugging you, lifted you and sat you back down on the sofa. You looked at them both, Zoro was as red as a tomato, and Sanji cleaned his face with his thumb, your juices glistened on his finger, his face was bloodshot red and looked like he was about to blow up. You then noticed the tent that laid on his pants, you looked at Zoro, just to see the same.

Sanji is still on his knees, laying his head on your lap. You motioned him to sit on the sofa, which he quickly did.

Your heart was still beating heavily, you wanted to make them feel as good as they made you. You turn to Zoro and whisper in his ear

"You'll be in back"

As you drew your head away from him, You could see the not-so-slick smirk that had crept onto his flustered face, Zoro didn't even try and hide his satisfaction. Sanji had wondered what you told him, but before he could ask you had gotten on all fours and faced Sanji, you pecked a kitten kiss onto his still-wet lips. As you went further down, your back arched more upwards, lifting your ass for Zoros view. They had both got the memo, Sanji protested cupping your face in his hands.

"Wait-! Y/n, I don't want to get your Beautiful face dirty... you don't have to do this"

His cute puppy-eyed face made you wanna do it even more.

"I want to do this...I...I've been waiting to..."

Sanji bit his lip and groaned at the way you stroked his hardness slowly up and down. You didn't even give him a chance to protest, he was already melting from your touch. You could feel Zoro message your ass slowly, like he was waiting for something. He rubbed his erection onto your exposed cunt, You held in your moan, you craved him more than ever. You slid off Sanji's pants and pulled his dick out, you looked at it wondering if you could really take him all in your mouth. However, before you got to test that thought you felt Zoro smack your ass, you yelped in shock. He bent forward a little and pulled your face up towards him, he whispered deeply in your ear

"you didn't tell me what you wanted."

His voice was so rich and gruff in your ear, you let out a small Exhale as he dug his crotch into your ass, rubbing it slowly.

"I— want you"

"You want me what?"

"to..f-fuck me.."

He hummed hearing you say that "Now put it all together" he teased

"I-I want you to fuck me Zoro!"

"That's my girl"

He set you back to doggy style and grabbed your ass, sanji kissed your forehead before giving Zoro an ugly look. Not for too long tho, when he felt your tongue meet the tip of his dick. He couldn't even remember what he was mad about. He jolted and let out not so concealed groan.

You sucked the tip feeling it twitch in your mouth. The warmth filled you as you took more of him, licking around his Veins, You got off to seeing how much pleasure that was spread onto Sanji's face. That thought was cut sort becuase of a sudden pressure you felt in your backside. You almost choked when you felt the tip of Zoros dick press into your entrance. You didn't expect him to be so thick, you felt a moan bubble up and couldn't hold it in, letting out a muffled moan onto Sanji's member. Which he surely enjoyed.

"Mmh!"

Your walls wrapped around him like a Christmas present, the grip was real he felt like he could cum just like that but he knew that wouldve been embrassing He gripped your ass and let out a broken grunt. Your toes curled with each inch he went deeper, you could feel his dick pulsing in you. He spread your cheeks apart with his thumbs, to get a better look at how his dick just fills you up. He suddenly pulled out slowly, you let out a little whine of confusion. You wanted to look back at him and see what he was doing, but as he was tip-deep he thrusted hard into you. Your legs jolt together, you feel Sanji's dick hit the back of your throat, you couldn't help but let out a choked gag.

Zoro's thrusts were slow but hit hard, he'd try to go slow, but his patients was running low, he couldn't help it when his hips started to pick up the pace.You bobbed your head up and down feeling Sanji's tip hit the back of your throat. Slurping his dick out your mouth you look up at him as you let your tongue roll out, all the juices that's been building in your mouth leak from your tongue to the head of his member.

"shit..."

Sanji really couldn't hold back how much he wanted to just devour you, his face went apple red as he bit his lip and tried to keep eye contact. His chest grew and shrank as his breath increased, you put him back into your mouth while stroking him. You loved seeing him this Squamish, you loved his soft moans and groans, any noise that came out his mouth made you want to have the sloppiest make-out session. You loved the Control you had over him and his pleasure, you felt your clit pulsing, you went to go play with it but Zoro grabbed your arm and folded it behind you. He went for your other arm and crossed it behind your back. He gripped your hands tight as his hips slammed against your ass, he was going all in now, his thrusts sounded like gun shots, he wanted to go as deep as he could. Loud moans and groans filled the air along with slapping sounds, Your head was getting fuzzy and your eyes where clouded.

The hard thrusts and motions from Zoro did all the work for you when giving head to Sanji, The sensation made your teary eyes roll back, you felt your stomach knot, and your moans became more loud and desperate. You felt yourself reach your limit as Zoro hit your cervix. Your legs shook and tightened up as you felt yourself cramp up, warm tears ran down your stuffed face. You moaned onto Sanji's dick when you felt him bring his hands to your face, his thumbs rubbing away your tears from your puffed-up flustered cheeks.

Sanji's hands tensed up, he was reaching his climax feeling his dick hit the back of your throat, hearing the gurgling noises you made with each thrust Drilled into his ear. He was drunk on lust, he didn't even realize he was gripping your face slightly and moving his hands along with each thrust Zoro did. He let out one last groan as he filled your mouth with his seed. Zoro wasn't too far off from his own release. He held your hands with one hand and your neck with the other, slapping against you again and again. Edging closer to his pleasure like an animal in heat. His breath was out of sync with his movement and his grunts started becoming more rough. He quickly pulled out and painted your ass white, he held his twitchy cock on your ass stroking it vigorously until nothing came out.

As everyone came down from their high, both Zoro and Sanji realized how messy things had got. Your face is covered in a mix of cum and saliva, and your ass is graffitied with Zoros jizz. Sanji had taken a minute to question what happened to all the stuff in your mouth? He dragged his thumb to your bottom lip and slowly pressed into your mouth, to see everything had been gone. A part of him was extremely turned on

"did you swallow it darling??"

Sanji was both concerned and extremely flustered, but before he got to overreact you felt your legs go weak, you couldn't hold yourself up anymore and collapsed.

You woke up on deck, Your face tucked in zoros neck. Your body still felt sore but it was bearable, you were all cleaned up from what the three of you had done. Having zoro hold you with such security and softness made you feel at ease. You heard the others from the kitchen, it was only you and Zoro who hadn't gone to breakfast. You felt bad for Sanji since he couldn't sleep in with you. You looked at Zoros's resting face, you examined him how handsome he was.

"Go back to sleep"

He mumbled, adjusted his pose, and pulled you closer to him. You gave him a little peck on the neck before you felt your tiredness creep up on you, it was not long before you and him Fell back to sleep with the morning wind brushing against your warm faces~ꨄ

[reriart]

While Your Lips Are Still Red

Summary: You suffer for what's happening in your life and you tried to put an end to it, but Astarion saved you.

Notes/TW: I wrote this fanfiction thinking about my Tav (female), but I wrote it gender-neutral so you can think about your OC (or you!) without any problems. The theme of suicide is the focus of this story, so if you are particularly sensitive to the theme and don't feel okay, please don't read it! I chose this topic because it is particularly dear and close to me. No one deserves to suffer and if you need it don't hesitate to contact a hotline. You are not alone!

There's also a bit of romance.

Please remember that English is not my native language.

Your sight grew darker and blurrier.

The bright stars in the sky, your only companions on nights when nightmares seemed to prevail, now seemed like many small, confused, and meaningless dots — the last, silent judges of your ruthless act.

You had decided to end everything: the story of the tadpoles, the absolute, the emperor... it was too much.

Your life had never been peaceful from the beginning, but the limit to how you could tolerate pain had become increasingly thin. You had tried every loophole possible, including considering joining Shadowheart in her crusade for Shar's honor; but just a few days before, you had convinced her to abandon the Lady of Loss and embrace her loving sister Selune. Because for her, your best friend, there was still hope, a glimmer of divine light ready to welcome her.

But not for you. Each fight had become more exhausting, each rescue mission more violent, soaked in innocent blood. The harpists, the tieflings. Children who would never play again, men and women who would never love again.

You should have rejoiced that you were still alive. To still be able to enjoy that great gift that life was. Yet now, cradled by the cold waters of the lake, not far from your sleeping companions, unaware of everything, your injured wrists let the red blood stain that crystalline liquid.

After making sure everyone was asleep (or in a trance, or on patrol, in Astarion's case), you had pulled your dagger from its sheath and used it on yourself right on the shore. You wanted to stab yourself and get it over with as quickly as possible, but you couldn't.

And now, at the mercy of the sweet waves, you waited for your moment. The moment when it would all end. You had managed to isolate the Emperor thanks to Gale, with the excuse of "I need a spell that silence everything for a few hours, or I won't even sleep tonight". A little suspicious, the wizard of Waterdeep finally granted your request. This way, none of your group would have the slightest signal from the tadpoles.

Your head felt lighter… it was like being drunk. A bitter smile spread across your face as your limbs grew numb, and your body grew colder and colder. The eyelids, however, became extremely heavy, as if there were a stone holding them down, and his heartbeat pounded in the eardrums like a war drum. The body became lighter and lighter but also heavier. The arms wanted only to go down, further down, towards the depths of the lake.

Your vision became almost completely blurred, your heartbeat infinitely slow: it was the end. One last breath and everything would have ended, if it hadn't been the rippling water and the cold hands (but warmer than your skin) that tore you away from the agonized embrace of death.

Thump-sounding words filled your head, but you didn't understand their meaning. A pale blob stood in front of you, squirming like a madman. A gasp came from your mouth as you recognized the figure. It was Astarion, visibly panicking. Perhaps thanks to the adrenaline of seeing him so agitated, you managed to understand his words.

"What the hell did you think?!" he almost screamed, lifting you out of the water to hold you. His gaze fell to your wrists which continued to bleed and you saw him swallow and clench his jaw. "I… one thing at a time. Now I have to think about getting you out of here, damn it." He rolled his eyes so as not to focus too much on your wounds, a temptation for him, especially after his failed hunt earlier. You didn't have the energy to reply, so you just let the elf pick you up, your eyelids too numb to allow you to look at him. You could only see his worried look, his milky white eyebrows furrowed.

Once you reached the shore, you felt Astarion spinning around. “If I take you to camp like this they'll think I bled you dry before you even let me explain,” he whispered. The companions were not within earshot, although relatively close, but it was normal for the vampire to operate in the shadows. You felt your body hit the ground and when you had enough strength to open your eyes, you noticed that he had found shelter in the forest. Your back was leaning against a large log, your legs stretched out on the damp ground.

“A…Astarion?” you whispered. "What…?"

“We'll leave the explanations for later, darling. Give me your wrists,” he ordered. Your tired eyes reflected fear. Did he want to bite you? Finish you there?

Noticing your hesitation, he took them both in his cold hands. "I do not want to hurt. Let me save you." His voice was calm, but his eyes hid a nervousness you had rarely seen. He swallowed, and bringing your wrists to his mouth, he licked them. His red eyes glowed like rubies and his breath trembled against your veins as a short, strangled moan escaped his throat. He seemed to struggle against himself, before placing your wrists on the ground, perhaps with a little too much force. You almost heard him growl as his jaw muscles clenched and his fingers trembled.

The wounds were gone. You blinked several times, lifting your arms with difficulty. It was as if they had never existed!

“I… thank you, Astarion. For saving me. Because of this. It must have been diff…”. Your head was spinning fast, so fast. You felt like the ground was disappearing from underneath your body and you almost fell to the side, if it weren't for the vampire, who grabbed you, preventing your head from hitting a stone.

“Do you want… me to hold you?” he asked with an apprehensive look, his voice a little more serious than usual. Maybe it was the lack of blood that made you see misleading things because he didn't look like Astarion at all. However, by now you didn't care about anything anymore, for all you knew he might as well be a shape-shifting monster ready to make a single morsel of you. You nodded your head and Astarion pulled you into his arms, resting your back against his chest.

"Better?" he asked. His breath tickled your neck.

“Mh hm” you replied. "Listen…"

You felt his arms become firmer around you.

"I am sorry." His voice was a whisper. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. Maybe all this wouldn't have happened."

You frowned, tilting your head slightly, which made it spin even more than before, confusing you to the point of making you feel drunk. "What…? What didn't you tell me...?”

The pale elf peered at the now distant black lake through the trunks of the forest. He didn't have the courage to meet your gaze.

“That I love you, my dear. Or rather, I told you that time as a joke, at the camp. Those words that I said to all the victims before taking them to Cazador." His gaze finally found its way to yours, glossy for the tears you were trying to hold back. Your heart, slow at first, began to thunder in your skull like a hammer, your breath became shorter and you tried to move away from him.

It wasn’t possible. It couldn't be. Was he taking advantage of that situation? Was he joking? Was it a demon, perhaps Raphael, ready to extort some contract from you?

"I do not believe you". Your voice trembled with fear and weakness, but even if you wanted to, you couldn't escape. You couldn't feel your legs anymore and the breath burned in your lungs. Even if you wanted to scream no one would have heard you.

Your panic didn't come from the fear of being eaten, but from the fact that Astarion had been the last bastion of salvation for you before you thought about harming yourself. You had feelings for him for a long time now, and your eyes often drifted over his slender frame as you tried to fall asleep in your bedroll as he drifted further into the darkness. When you allowed him to drink your blood, his bites and lips continued to torment you in the night, but far from unpleasant reasons. However, convinced that you were not reciprocated and considering his ambition for power and the constant flirting during missions even with bears, those words looked fake to you. You bit your lip, curling up as much as you could.

“No, no, don't be like that... look at me,” he said while lifting your chin with one hand. You didn't want to, you didn't want to accept the reality and feel terribly stupid for almost throwing your life away when the one you loved maybe actually reciprocated your feelings. When your eyes finally met, you saw him for what he truly was.

A fragile creature. His look was desperate, the mouth curved in an expression of infinite sadness. His other hand caressed your hair... a pleasant contact, which made you relax a little. "Listen to me. I know I don't have the easiest of temperament” he confessed, a bitter laugh, with his typical accent, changed his expression for a moment. “And I want you to know that everything you see of me is not… true. It's that bastard Cazador who turned me into a monster. But you made me feel something that in two hundred years, under his control, I had never felt.”

You rested your face in his hand, now cupping your cheek. You decided to trust. If it was a dream or a near-death hallucination, you wanted to live every minute of it.

"What?"

"Free. I feel free” he murmured, and his lips rested on yours in a sweet, delicate kiss. They were surprisingly soft and tasted vaguely of iron and mulberry, but that contact was enough to feel a new, powerful rush of adrenaline bringing you back to the present.

It was really happening. You were in his arms and he had saved you from certain death. And now he was kissing you in the sweetest way possible, both of his hands cupping your face as if you were in danger of breaking at any moment.

It seemed like an eternal, perfect kiss that you wanted to leave suspended in time. When you opened your eyes again, you found his. So vulnerable, so desperate. He ran a finger over your lip, before being grabbed and hugged like his life depended on it.

"Stay with me. Forever."