#*lays face down on the ground* I want him to say that to me. i want to be the one who loves him enough to stay.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

get off the floor, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You order Jeon Jungkook to get off the floor. He says, "Make me." You make him. Eventually.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; tipsy, bratty (needy) JK; wedding guests reader and JK hooking up in a random corner room bc they can no longer contain themselves, gasp; semi-public smut (fem dom!reader + sub!JK, JK becomes half-undressed while reader is still fully dressed, slight degrading talk (not really), heavy making out, dry humping) basically, I was staring at this photo and had thoughts

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“Get off the floor.”

“Make me.”

Once again. No stranger to this supreme annoyance, and yet knowing that did not make it bearable. You looked down at him. Was he drunk? He stared off to the side. Looked moodier than anything. Trying to play it cool, perhaps. You caught him glancing and you stepped back, smoothing the high slit of your deep purple evening gown.

“That suit costs way too much to be on the ground,” you attempted again, his black blazer over your bare shoulders.

Jeon Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you.

“Don’t care.”

You could feel your patience running thin. Not new, just like all of Jungkook’s antics. You felt his eyes travel up from your legs to your waist to your chest. When he got to your face, you gave him an unimpressed frown. If he hadn’t been drinking, he would have the good sense to look away. But he had, so he just ticked his head as if he wasn’t laying down in the middle of a random offshoot room in a very nice hotel. There was no one around. Time of night and because this wing had been rented for the wedding that was still going on in the main ballroom.

“You’re going to get in trouble,” you warned.

His dark eyes caught the low lights of the art deco sconces on the walls.

“Get on top of me.”

This was precisely why you had considered skipping this wedding. But, alas, common sense pulled through. You had not come with a plus one because you didn’t have one. Jungkook had not arrived with a plus one either even though you were quite sure he could have secured one. He was probably thinking the same of you as well. The look on his face when you strode in and greeted the couple was enough to encourage some of the guests to mysteriously begin herding you and him in close proximity. You couldn’t blame them. Playing matchmaker was bound to happen if a woman attended such a social event alone.

You just didn’t think the lucky man would be Jeon Jungkook.

You narrowed your eyes. His eyes lowered to half-moons. His lips parting. The two silver rings gleamed on the right edge of his lower lip.

“Don’t play this game.”

The tip of his pink tongue flitted against his lip rings.

“I’ve been wanting to play your game for a while now,” Jungkook breathed, his low voice vibrating in his chest.

You could still hear the bass of the music. One step. The heel of your pumps clicked loudly against the tile floor. His black three-piece suit had been perfectly tailored to him. There was no need for additional shape because his body lines were already ideal. His black hair had been carefully slicked back. Nothing to hide behind. Another step. His black vest and crisp white shirt were tight enough to his chest that you could witness the way his breath hitch lifted his upper torso. You looked down, then pointedly back up at his face, reminding him that his tight slacks made everything obvious.

He bit the side of his lip.

With a casual lift of your slinky skirt, you stepped over him, and then re-draped the dark violet fabric over his lower torso. One foot on each side of his hips. He must have expected you to refuse, as you already had many times before. He immediately froze, his startled eyes widening. In your defense, he had previously been more subtle and annoying about it rather than direct. You reached up, maintaining eye contact with Jungkook, and twisted your wrist, hooking two fingers on the collar of his blazer around your shoulders, pulling it away from your body to reveal skin.

You dropped it on the floor, away from your bodies.

The fitted gown had a soft sweetheart neckline with thin straps that framed your collarbones. A simple white gold chain necklace with a tiny round-cut diamond nestled at the base of your neck. The straps crossed over to your exposed lower back. The medium-weight fabric was tailored to skim over your curves. Princess seams accentuated your shape from chest to hips before opening up to wispy high slits that were only obvious when you walked or stood with more weight to one side. Demure if you stood straight, which you mostly did. Wasn’t your wedding after all. Your hair was down, smoothed down at the right, covering enough of your back to uphold the illusion of modesty. Unfortunately, as night approached, you had found yourself quite cold. The air conditioning had been turned high to accommodate for all the dancing bodies.

That wasn’t the trajectory of the night for you, though.

Instead of the dance floor, you and Jeon Jungkook were now somehow in deserted offshoot room with chairs on tables. Probably reserved for additional seating just in case any additional guests tried to squeeze in at the last minute. Certainly not reserved for a raunchy rendezvous.

You lifted an eyebrow.

“Scared?” you taunted, looking down at him.

His wrists were against the floor by his shoulders. You saw his fingers twitch, but he did nothing to move further.

“Ravage me already,” Jungkook exhaled. Hot and heavy and hiding desperation. “I can’t take this.”

You had been well-acquainted with him and a while now. You ran the tip of your pointed heel against his side. Jungkook shuddered. He didn’t move to touch you. You backed off. The real problem with all this was not the friendly terms you both had, but rather the fact that he had caught you in a rather dubious place some nights ago. Neither you nor him should have been there. In fact, you made it a point to travel far enough so you wouldn’t run into anyone, which you presumed was also the exact reason Jungkook ended up in the same place.

You squatted down, tilting your head at him in a predatory way.

The skirt of your dress pooled over his abdomen.

As you came close to Jungkook’s level, you heard his breathing shallow.

You took a short moment to collect your dress accordingly before dropping to one knee. And then the other. Straddling him, but not quite touching. Your fingertips touched the ground. He smelled like faint musky spice. You lowered over him, until your hands were just under his upper arms.

Looked down.

Jungkook stared at you from below, trapped in your shadow.

“You really did see me at the BDSM club that night,” you murmured. “Didn’t you?”

You raised your right hand and closed it around his left wrist, pinning it to the ground. He sucked in a tight breath, the gravity of the situation seemingly sinking in although it didn’t seem like he was rushing to stop you.

“Your ass looked so fucking good,” he whispered in the dark. “I knew it was you.”

You bent your left elbow, descending to his face.

“Someone will find us.”

At your reminder, he bit his lower lip in that fuck-me-harder kind of way. Then you felt movement. His right hand snaked between you and him. Your eyes flickered down. His dress shirt was fastened all the way to his neck. He looked sharp. Conventionally handsome. The only things he couldn’t hide was his facial piercings and the tattoos on his hand. Hand tattoos were a big faux pas to most. You liked a rule-breaker though. Unfortunately. Jungkook’s deft fingers traced the pressed collar of his shirt.

You watched him undo the first pearlescent button.

Then the second.

Your lips parted to warn him to stop, but the third was already coming undone and you could hear the desire in his erratic breath drifting upwards. Then it was eyes-to-eyes, devouring you with false innocence, and you opened your mouth to trace your lips with the tip of your tongue, taunting him with the glistening void.

“Fuck…” he whispered, trembling under you.

And then you stopped his hand by fully pressing your body against his chest, your clothed breasts against his naked pecs. Flitted your tongue over his lip rings, tasting his moan before hearing it. He turned his head, trying to chase it, but you feathered kisses over his cheek, gripping his left wrist as you licked his ear, hearing the whine of your name tickling yours.

“P-Please…”

You avoided him that night at that club, hoping he hadn’t recognized you, causing every subsequent interaction making it painfully clear to you that he had indeed seen you strutting your stuff in black latex while teasing strangers with your leather crop. Surprisingly, not in the way of trying to use such information against you, which was what you expected, but rather in the way the tempted drive the tempters insane. In imploring looks that only you could know. In too many chances of being too close in proximity. You don’t know how he did it, but now for some reason everyone was delicately suggesting to you to, perhaps, give him a chance. It only strengthened your want to teach him a lesson. You savored the rising panic in his voice as you bit the curve of his ear and toyed with him with your tongue. His trapped hand turned and you felt his palm mold to your lower ribs, sliding up. You bit down. He gasped, biting back a moan as his fingertips ghosted the curve of your breasts.

“Ah…. D-Don’t…” Whimper so close to his heart that only you could hear it. “My e-ear is… is sensitive, a-ah…”

You smiled, pressing your lips to his earlobe. His earrings were warming from your breath and saliva.

“Is that why you have so many piercings, huh?”

You made sure he could feel your lips move as you purred filthy nothings.

“What a pain slut you are.”

This time he truly moaned, his hips rising, and then abruptly cut himself off to avoid rising volume.

“D-Don’t…”

You sank down. Pressed against him, and even though the layers you could feel his erection throb, his entire body shivering when your weight dispersed over his lower body. His fingertips traced the dip in between your breasts. Your tongue circled over his ear once more before kissing up to his temple, the fingers of your other hand creeping up the side of his neck, and then you made out with Jeon Jungkook, right there on the floor with his groan vibrating the inside of your throat as you slowly thrusted your tongue into his lips. He did his best to suck and you always pulled away at the last second, using one finger to trace the muscle of his neck down to his collarbones.

You broke the kiss.

His lips were glossy and flushed.

“Please… Don’t stop,” he begged, squeezing your breast. “Don’t stop…”

The inaudible music continued to hum in the background.

You placed two fingers on his chin and pushed his head back, giving you access to his throat. For a brief moment, you considered making your mark, but instead you trailed your tongue down, down, painting possessive saliva onto his warm skin. His body rose. You let go of his wrist to pull open the sides of his shirt, realizing he was undoing his vest at the same time as his chest became fully exposed to the air, his dark nipples hard. You flicked your tongue against them, an involuntary ripple seizing his torso at the heated contact. Licked all over, enjoying the scent and taste of his skin. He silenced a cry as you bit down.

“H-Harder…”

You rose slightly, grazing your tongue against his skin before doing so.

“Be quiet.”

And then you roughly pinched his other nipple.

His arm flew up and he screamed behind clenched jaw, his hips lifting from the floor and his erection colliding with the inside of your thigh. You let out a light hum, sliding up his hard thighs. Your dress was already bunching around your waist. With a sweep of your skirt, your barely-there panties came into view. His attentive eyes immediately went down to the matching skin-toned thong barely covering your pussy, tricking him for just a moment, and then you saw the disappointment flutter into a slight frown.

“Did you expect me to be naked?” you mused.

He tried to cover himself with indifference. “No.” His needy gaze and raging boner gave him away.

You smiled.

And held the front of your skirt out of the way, rocking your hips forward to rub your panties against his clothed cock. Jungkook gasped, staring back at your relaxed expression with wide eyes, unsure where to look. You put a little more force into it, increasing the friction and molding his hardness to the soft dip between your legs, and you saw his eyelids flutter, his dark eyes rolling back, a contained moan escaping his chest.

You talked down to him, because you could tell he liked it.

“You thought I wouldn’t have panties and I would just ride you in a public place with no remorse or shame?”

Tension began to show through his muscles. He had one arm on his forehead and the other against the black-and-white tile floor, using subtle leverage to grind against you. He wasn’t obstructing his vision though, still very obviously staring at your thighs, the dip towards your pussy, watching the hem of your panties press into your skin with each movement.

“I… oh, fuck, I don’t k-know…” He panted, his shadowed eyes roaming back to your face. “Maybe.”

You laid your free hand on the waistband of his slacks, tracing his belt. You watched him hold his breath, his chest tight and oh-so-delectable. Slowly, you hooked your fingers under his belt. Gripped it, and changed the angle of your thrusting so that the head of his cock was rubbing against the radiating heat of your pussy, giving him a better view of your thin panties digging into your slit.

You saw his teeth sink into his lower lip.

“F-Fuck…”

His eyes slid shut and he moaned your name, sensual and deep and far too practiced for it to be a closed secret, his hips pushing back up against you, trying to get more and unable to do so. Frustration. Need. Craving. All bleeding into his expression. Against better judgement, you could feel it too, the irresistible pull of barely enough, the desire to tease turning into wetness between your legs, slowly but surely perfuming the air with your sweet, musky arousal.

Jungkook opened his eyes and stared up at you, imploring softly.

“P-Please…”

His arm lifted from his forehead and his other hand raised, fingertips stroking your thighs while using his shoulder blades for leverage. Forceful and precise. You let go of his belt and traced the knuckles of one of his hands, feeling the restrained strength in his touch. He sank his fingers into your thighs, gasping, pressing the back of his head onto the floor and arching his back. His open shirt. His exposed muscular chest. His tan skin faintly glistening with sweat. His throat begging for a bite.

You raked your nails down his abs, forcing Jungkook to lustfully grown to the ceiling.

You smirked.

“Get up.”

With minimal effort, Jungkook lifted his torso off the ground, frowning at you for asking him to be reasonable. His palms pressed into your thighs, ensuring that you continued to straddle him even though you had no intention of moving. In fact, you drew your knees together, pinning him in between your thighs. A few black strands had dislodged from their places and draped over his furrowed brows.

“Was that so difficult?” you murmured with lowered lashes, walking your nails up his chest.

His hands were sliding up towards your hips under your skirt. “Yeah.” He squeezed your ass with his strong grip while staring into your eyes. “I’ve been wanting to get you out of this dress for hours.”

“Hm.”

You gave him an unimpressed look as you felt his fingertips glide down. He pulled outwards ever-so-slightly. From below, out of sight, your pussy lips parted with a wet sucking sound.

Jungkook moaned against your cheek, pressing his naked chest against your clothed breasts.

“Come on… Please…”

You hand had migrated to his side, steadily scratching his lower back.

“Very reckless and dangerous of you.”

He glanced at you with those half-moon eyes filled with stars of longing.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want me to be,” Jungkook whispered hotly. “Brushing up against me by accident when I already told you that you look too damn hot. Teasing me every time I look down by showing off your legs even more.” His mouth brushed against the side of yours. You could faintly feel his lip rings. “You’re mean.”

You sat on top of his still-hard cock and purred, “I don’t recall doing such things,” before lightly bouncing on top of it.

He gasped and you sucked away his exhale, pulling back before he could kiss you.

“Let me,” he breathed out.

His hands came up to cradle your back as you arched your spine and then you sighed out, his soft kisses fanning over your décolletage, tucking his tongue between your breasts and licking upwards, his eyelids fluttering in bliss from the taste of your perfumed skin.

“Please, let me…”

Your arms around his neck. You had not intended to fuck Jeon Jungkook tonight but, then again, that was easy to think when he hadn’t looked at you with those perfectly desperate eyes yet. Nor had he yet pushed the top of your ass down to collide with his hard dick still fighting his pants, implying just how well you would fit together. Until right now that is. You smiled, leaning back into his warmth.

“At least button your shirt so you don’t startle the hotel staff with your sexy body.”

His ears flushed bright red. You shot him an amused look as he fumbled about.

“And what if there was a camera in here, hm? Recording your depravity,” you mused, appreciating the view.

“I don’t mind,” he mumbled to his chest. His ears remained red.

“I see. But if I compliment you, you become embarrassed.”

Jungkook avoided your gaze. “N-No…”

You hooked a finger under his chin and yanked him back up, confronting those big, dark brown orbs. He looked taken aback, almost afraid of what you would say next.

“I can’t wait to have you under me,” you whispered. “I’ll make you show me how talented you are at begging.”

He moaned into your mouth as you kissed him deeply, pulling him into your possessive embrace.

-

continued in get on the floor, m | jjk

--

drabbles masterpost | masterpost

[sturnsdarling]

save a horse...

you and Matt go to a ranch for your anniversary and end up finding an old abandoned barn, taking the perfect opportunity to live your true wild west fantasy.

vibe check: smutty fluff, cowgirl position (obvi), public (kind of) sex

3k words

A/N: it hurts to write my dreams instead of living them. anyways the idea of cowboy!matt makes me feel a bit wobbly in the knees so this is my version of that, this fic is dedicated to the one and only cas (@sturnioz) because she, and I quote, 'loves this shit'

love and cigs, merc

It was yours and Matts year anniversary, you were driving through the South West, Matts hand on your thigh as you drove towards the ranch you had found as a surprise for him.

It was huge, an old family run ranch in the middle of nowhere. Recently, Matt had been on a kick about reconnecting with nature so, with your anniversary coming up you thought a long weekend in a ranch would be perfect for him to live out his cowboy dreams.

When you got there,

the family that rented it out was welcoming and lovely, showing you both the little house you'd be staying in for the weekend. It was an old converted barn, all the old wood work still intact and the furnishings being very on theme for yours and Matts 'wild west' weekend.

It was perfect, and the look on Matts face when he saw the cracks of light seeping through the cracking wood walls made everything worth it.

Once you guys had dropped off your stuff,

you and Matt decided to wander around the grounds and find a nice spot to have a picnic. After a while of walking about and taking photos of the beautiful scenery, you noticed a large tree a little ways walk from where you were, telling Matt it was the perfect spot and he agreed, looping his arm over your shoulder and leading you both to the tree.

When you sat down,

Matt laid down your picnic blanket and told you to sit down, saying he'd get everything ready and that you didn't have to do anything. You complied, watching as he unpacked everything, the bright orange sun illuminating his beautiful face perfectly.

"I can feel you starin' at me, you know" Matt smirked, pulling to plastic wine glasses out the basket followed by a bottle of root beer.

"i'm not staring, i'm admiring" you corrected him.

Matt chuckled, shaking his head and turning to face you, hooking a soft finger under your chin and pulling your head up to him. He pressed a tender kiss on your glossy lips, slotting his mouth between yours perfectly. You let out a satisfied hum into the kiss, relishing in the feeling of his lips on yours.

Matt pulled away and opened the bottle of soda, he held it out to you like a waiter holding wine and made a fancy, silly face, "will this do, your highness" he spoke in a posh English accent.

you giggled, nodding and trying to pull a serious face, "yes, that will do nicely" you mimicked his tone.

Matt chuckled and poured you a cup of soda before pouring his own, holding it out to you to cheers before sitting down next to you on the blanket.

You were facing the horizon, watching as the sun began to set, leaving the sky a hazy orange and pink swirl of colours. You rested your head on Matts shoulder and he turned to place a soft kiss on your hair.

"happy anniversary, beautiful" Matt said, softly.

You lifted your head, resting your chin on his shoulder as he looked down at you, batting your lashes at him as you gazed at him, "happy anniversary, my love"

He smiled, placing a soft kiss on your lips before turning back to face the sunset.

You stayed there for a while, eating, laughing and enjoying each others company. The sun was still setting, and you were laying on Matts chest, peppering soft kisses all over his face as he chuckled beneath you. You were giggling the whole time, loving how he let you shower him with love like you so desperately wanted to twenty four seven. Matt placed his large hands on your hips, flipping you both over so he was on top of you. You giggled at the swift movement, and Matt hovered over you, watching in awe at the way your face lit up when you laughed.

Your giggles subsided, and you looked up to Matt, who's eyes were flitting between yours and your lips. You looked to his plump lips, and bit down on your bottom lip at the sight of him looking at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Matt craned his head down, pressing his lips against yours with a firm hand on your jaw. You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss with a swipe of your tongue against his lip. He accepted your invitation and pressed his warm tongue against yours, absentmindedly grinding his hips down into yours as you hooked one leg around his waist.

Everything was perfect, you were in a beautiful place, with a beautiful boy, making out on a picnic blanket like sneaky teenagers trying to get some alone time in the wild west.

Once the sun had begun to slip under the horizon, you decided to do some more exploring before heading back to where you were staying.

On your adventure, you guys had spotted an old barn, it was falling apart at the seams and looked as if no one had touched it in years.

"we have to go see inside" you said, pulling Matt towards the old barn with your hand in his.

He followed you, letting you lead him town the dry hill towards the large old structure.

You reached the doors, pulling on the old lock slightly as it basically crumbled in your hand. Matt reached above your head, pulling the door open and letting you walk in.

It was like a time capsule, bails of old hay everywhere, old horse riding equipment and a beat up tractor in the middle.

"this is so cool" Matt said, looking around in awe.

You were just looking at him, watching his face light up with every new thing he noticed. You did a full lap of the barn, and didn't take your eyes off him once, just letting him guide you about with his fingers locked between yours.

"y'staring again, baby" He chuckled, turning to face you, placing his hands round your waist and pulling you into him.

you looped your hands around his neck, "admiring" you corrected him again, brushing your lips over his.

Matt pulled you into him, capturing your lips in a kiss that was quick to become desperate. His warm tongue pressed and pushed against yours as your hands found the tangled curls at the back of his head. His hand snuck down to your ass, gripping and squeezing at the flesh over your flowery sundress. Matt walked you backwards towards the bails of hay, laying you down gently on top of them without breaking the kiss.

He laid you down, one hand on your face and the other on your thigh as he looped your leg around his waist. Matt ground his hips down onto yours, pressing his growing cock against your pussy as your dress fell bunched around your waist. You whimpered into the kiss, tugging at Matts hair and pulling him closer into you with your leg.

Matts hand wandered up your leg, pushing your dress further up with his soft hands as his hand edged impossibly close to where the two of you connected. He pressed and kneaded at your skin as he ground his hips down into your core, hard and slowly, chasing his own friction just as much as he was trying to help you chase yours.

You whined into Matts mouth once more, biting down on his lip and bucking your hips into his. Matt chuckled, breaking the kiss and pulling away from you slightly.

"so needy" He muttered, lips still brushing yours.

"you like it when I'm needy" you pretended to sulk, earning a smile from Matt

Matt nodded, quickly pressing his lips to yours once more, "I love it, baby, y'so sexy when you're all desperate f'me" Matt smirked.

You let out a satisfied hum and kissed him again, this time, just after kissing you back for a moment, Matt began to trail is lips down your neck and along your chest, pulling at the bust of your dress with delicate fingers to expose your hard nipple to him. He locked his mouth around it, sucking down before biting it between his teeth, toothing the sting with another warm press of his tongue.

Your back arched into him, your head falling back onto the hay with a small moan. Matt made his way down your body, watching as you arched into his touch, bunching your dress around your hips and coming to eye level with your already soaked folds. Matt groaned at the sight when he saw you weren't wearing any underwear, his mind reeling at the thought of you not wearing any all day.

Your folds glistened for him, and he swiped a gentle finger over your core, earning a soft moan from your lips as you bucked your hips, chasing the feeling.

"so pretty and perfect" Matt uttered, his breath hot over your pussy as he edged impossibly close.

He wanted to tease you, he really did, but the sight of you like this for him, in a pretty sundress, spread open in an old barn with cowgirl boots on and no underwear, Matt was desperate to taste you.

Matt pressed a soft kiss against your slick folds, brushing his thumb over your puffy clit as his tongue dipped into your sopping hole. Your hands found his hair, pressing gentle fingers into his scalp as he began to lap at your pussy.

A soft, breathy moan left your lips, your legs coming to hang over his shoulders, boots wrapped behind his head as he groaned at the taste of you on his tongue.

"fuck, Matt, that feels so good" you moaned, head rolling on its hinge as your eyes fluttered shut.

Matt hummed in response, the vibrations making you clench around nothing as he continued to lap and kiss at your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit periodically, sending bouts of shivers up your spine every time.

It was blissful, his slow pace making your whole body tingle as you moaned his name, unable to stop the noises that left your mouth. He was bringing you to eye watering orgasm with just his mouth, working you so slow and tenderly, his steady pace making your stomach tense and your legs tighten around his head. You were a whimpering mess, moaning his name over and over again as you approached your high on his tongue.

it was as if Matt had a sixth sense that was tuned into your body, knowing exactly when you were going to cum without having to be told. He kept his pace, lapping softly at your pussy, driving you to a piercing orgasm. You were seeing stars, releasing your cum all over his mouth as you ground your hips against his face desperately.

Matt continued his pressure against your pussy, helping you ride out your orgasm. Your hands found his jaw, and you pulled at him, dragging him away from your pussy and whimpering as you pulled him upwards to you. Matt chuckled, crawling up your body and following your request as you pulled him down into you, kissing him with feverish need.

"see how good you taste, baby?" Matt spoke into your mouth.

You whined into the kiss, and Matt flipped you both over, so you were on top of him, sopping pussy pressed against the rough material of his jeans. He toyed with the fabric of your dress, pushing his hands under the material and pressing bruises into your skin as you ground down onto him, kissing him like he was oxygen and you were struggling to breathe.

You moved your kisses down his neck, inching your hands down the buttons of his shirt. You expertly unbuttoned his flannel, his bare chest exposed to you as you pushed it open, leaving it loose on his arms. You arched into him as you peppered wet kisses down his stubble ridden jaw, down his neck and across his chest. You were crawling down his body, your tongue inching closer and closer to the little trail of hair that led to your favourite thing.

You paused as you reached his bulge, palming him through his jeans as you looked up at him through your lashes. You fiddled with his belt, Matt helping you remove his jeans and boxers in one swift movement. His leaking cock slapped against his stomach, the sight of it making your mouth water as Matts gentle hand found your jaw, moving to the back of your head to take a handful of your hair.

You took Matts length in your hand, pumping him slowly as you hovered your mouth over his leaking tip. His head hung back, jaw slack as a soft moan left his lips.

You wrapped your lips around him, lowering your head down his length with a flat tongue against his stiff length. Matts grip on your hair tightened, him fighting every muscle in his body not to fuck into your mouth, wanting to let you do your thing that you did so well. You began to bob your head up and down against him, hollowing your cheeks out as you let him bottom out in your throat.

Matt gently guided your head down onto him, pressing his hips against your lips as you gagged around him.

"fuck, baby, your mouth feels s'good" Matt said breathlessly, letting you continue to bob up and down on him.

You hummed around him, the vibration sending a jolt up his spine as he softly bucked his hips into your mouth. Your hand came up to his balls, cupping him with a tender pressure, a throaty moan escaped his lips at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed as he let you work your mouth over him.

Pools of saliva gathered at the corners of your mouth, your throat opening to take his whole length as you flattened your tongue against him, the thick vein running up his cock tickling your taste buds as you lost yourself in the motion.

Matts stomach began to tighten, legs twitching periodically and you knew his was close. Before he could unload in your mouth, you pulled off him completely with a pop, earning a desperate whine from Matt who's head shot up at the feeling of your mouth no longer around him.

"why'd you stop?" he whined, eyes trained on your glistening mouth.

you chuckled, rising to straddle him, pumping his wet and sticky cock from behind you as you lined yourself up with his tip.

"I wanna ride you, cowboy" you said seductively, swiping his cock through your puffy folds.

Matt groaned at you taking control, loving when you rode him and loving it even more when you called him silly nicknames like that. He attempted to muster up a witty reply, but his train of thought was cut off by your gummy walls clenching around him as you lowered yourself onto his cock.

Matt let out a blissful sigh, eyes closing at the sensation of being nestled in your warm pussy. You bit down on your lip as he entered you, bringing your hands to rest on his chest as small whimpers left your throat, instinctively grinding your clit down against the small scattering of hair at the base of his cock.

Matts eyes fluttered open, locking with yours as he took in the sight above him, one hand finding your hip as the other tucked behind his head. He loved you like this, needy and desperate to make him feel good, and the sight of you, tits hanging out your dress as it laid bunched up around your hips, steadily bouncing up and down his hard cock, made his head spin.

You leaned forward slightly, pressing your body weight against Matts chest though your palms and you began to shift your ass up and down, dragging your tight walls over his cock as you milked him.

Matts grip on your hip was bruising, him holding you steady as you rode him. His lip was tucked between his perfect teeth, relishing in the sight of you fucking him. Your eyes were closed in pure pleasure, the stretch of your pussy around his cock making you feel lightheaded. His hand came to your ass, kneading at the flesh under your dress, he smacked the fleshy fat, soothing the sting with a massaging touch before repeating his action, spanking you as you bounced on him.

His spanks egged you on, making you feel all the more confident. You opened your eyes and smiled down at him, lip tight between your teeth.

"you look so good like this, pretty girl" He cheesed at you, shaking his head in disbelief that you were his.

You smiled at him, blushing slightly at the compliment as you picked up your pace, causing Matt to moan, his eyes closing as his head craned back into the hay.

"cum inside me, Matt, please, cum for me whilst I ride you" you muttered, your words coming out accompanied by moans, his dick hitting your gummy g-spot as you fucked down onto him harder.

Matt let out a guttural groan, pulling his hand from behind his head and palming your tit, his fingers pressing bruises into your flesh as he maintained heavy eye contact with you though his low hanging lashes.

You picked up your pace, shifting so you were rested on the bottoms of your feet, knees tight against your chest as you fucked him at a relentless pace. Matt couldn't control the noises that left his throat at the new position, the angle letting him hit a deeper spot inside you, your walls tight around his cock as he began to fuck up into you, matching your pace.

The moan that left you was throaty, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Matts balls slapped against your ass with every thrust of his hips, meeting you in the middle as you rode him.

Matts movements began to falter, breathy moans leaving his lips as he kneaded at any exposed flesh of yours he could. You were clenching hard around him, moaning his name, begging him to cum.

He didn't need to be told twice, his hand moved up to cup your jaw, pulling you own into a sloppy kiss as he pressed his cock base deep inside of you, his hips stuttering as he released spurts of white, warm cup into your perfect pussy, filling you up just like you asked. He bit down on your lip as the last remnants of his cum left his tip, coating his dick as you continued to fuck down onto him.

"I love you" he breathed into your open mouth, his whole body relaxing back into the hay.

You followed suit, letting your body weight drop down onto him as the ache of your thighs became instantly prominent, "I love you too" you muttered.

You were both spent, Matt pulling out of you with a hiss as you slumped down onto him, one leg by his side and the other over his hips. He pressed a long kiss into your hair, trailing soft tickles over your arm as you nestled into him, catching your breath on his chest.

The sun was fully set, and the light of the moon was creeping through the cracks in the battered barn walls. Crickets began to chirp outside, the night time wild life coming alive outside the barn doors.

It was a perfect end to a perfect day, and without meaning to, you both fell asleep on the hay, tangled up in one another in the warm embrace of the warm western air.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous

[annievrse]

the sled problem

roronoa zoro x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: thinking about alabasta where there's no room for matsuge to carry you, so zoro puts you on the sled with chopper (feat. a lot of reader x crew too!). w/c: 1.1k c/w: zoro refers to reader as 'my girl' & 'girlfriend', she/her pronouns, established relationship, reader is shorter than zoro. a/n: thanks everyone for voting! here is bf!zoro.

"My turn!" Luffy exclaims, feet dragging through the sand. You eye him wearily as it seems he used the last of his energy to make it known that he was to take your place on the sled. You wince when he stumbles, the last of the water hanging by a rope around his neck.

"No way, moron," Zoro grunts behind you. "My girl and Chopper only."

Next to Luffy, Usopp lets out a noise of disagreement, his body weight relying on the walking stick in his hand. "Surely she can walk— Ouch!"

Chopper's weak giggle cuts the thick air beside you, and you look to where the sharpshooter lays motionless in the orange sand. Glancing back, you see Zoro's fist lowering back to his side.

"Stop complaining," Nami says, adjusting the scarf on her head. "We'll be there soon."

"You're on the back of a camel," Usopp splutters as he gets to his feet. Matsuge grunts in dismissal, and Nami pretends not to hear her crewmate and turns to face the horizon.

"Let me on!" Luffy attempts to yell, staggering toward the swordsman. "C'mon, Chopper, you're an animal fit for the desert."

The reindeer shakes his head and clasps his arms around your bicep. "No way, you try having a fur coat in his heat."

Usopp giggles, though he eyes the waterskin that hangs against Luffy's chest instead of the medic. "I'll cut it off you if you'd like—"

A collective gasp sounds through the group; this time, you kick your leg out to trip him over, realising too late that he was speaking about the water and not Chopper.

Zoro chokes out a cackle at the thump of his crewmate against the sand. "Atta girl."

Usopp makes no move to get up. He lays there, delirious, until Sanji grips the back of his shirt and tugs him along. "Idiot."

The only sound is the wind and the crunch of shoes in the desert. Sighing, you start to feel bad for the others when you see them struggling to stay upright, so, you shuffle Chopper over so you can get up.

"'Ro," You say, turning to face his back. Zoro stops and looks at you with his brows furrowed. "Here, Luffy—"

The group groans as you stand, dusting the sand from your clothes.

Zoro shakes his head and scoffs. "I'm not pulling that moron. Sit back down."

With pleading eyes, you shove your captain toward the sled, carefully avoiding Chopper. "Just pull him; I'll walk with you for a while."

Zoro grumbles and suddenly jolts the sled, so Luffy slides off. "Oops."

"Please, Ro," You say, touching his forearm. "Just until I get tired."

"Yeah, just until she gets tired," Luffy mumbles, heaving himself onto the sled. "Which will be never."

Zoro glares at you, but the look is too familiar for you to take it harshly. Then, he starts walking again, purposefully making a face of discomfort.

"Thanks, baby," you smile, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

"Aw, baby, that's so cute," Usopp mumbles, his face just inches off the ground thanks to Sanji's grip. "Zoro, baby, my baby—"

Sanji rolls his eyes, drops him, and keeps walking. "Do you ever shut up?"

You glance back at him, but Zoro nudges you with his shoulder. "He'll catch up."

Sighing, you stop and walk back to Usopp. Zoro knows what you'll make him do, but god knows he’ll always do what you tell him.

You try your best to help the sniper to his feet, muttering that he won't have to walk anymore, giving Usopp the energy to run to the sled. So much for feeling bad for him...

"You need to learn to ignore them," Sanji says, plucking the cigarette between his lips. "Let the moss head drag you through the dunes. He clearly wants to."

You look back and slow down to match his steps, smiling at Sanji's attempt at being nice to your boyfriend. "It's the least I can do."

The cook begins to counter your lame argument but stops short when he sees Zoro waiting for you ahead: his captain, the sharpshooter, and the reindeer piled on the wooden sand sled.

"I'm doing all this for you, and you ditch me for the cook."

You can feel Sanji roll his eyes beside you. Laughing, you quicken your steps to catch up to the swordsman.

"Jealous?"

Zoro scoffs and readjusts his grip on the ropes. "Of him? I'd rather die."

There's a sigh behind you, and then Sanji speeds past you, hands clasped before him as he asks Nami if she needs anything.

Zoro knocks your shoulder with his bicep, bringing you back to the man beside you. He's a man of very few words, but you know what he's trying to say. Quit teasing me.

Rolling your eyes, you giggle. "Stop flirting, we're in the desert."

"Seriously?"

You shrug and glance at the boys on the sled, your sweet expression turning to irritation when you see them sitting cross-legged, whispering animatedly while Chopper lies half-delirious from heat stroke. “Seriously?”

“Yeah? I just asked that—“

You stop walking and hit an oblivious Luffy upside the head when he passes. Your captain tumbles onto the sand, Usopp following soon after with expletives falling from his lips.

Huffing, you reclaim your place next to Chopper. "Manipulative idiots."

“You got that right,” Chopper mumbles. You shake your head and watch as the pair stumble back to their feet and start complaining again.

"Why?" Usopp cries. "Zoro control your girlfriend; she's mean."

Zoro laughs deeply, like a warning. "Usopp, I swear to god, if I hear your voice one more time, I won't hesitate to kick your ass."

"Sorry," Usopp mumbles to you. "Sorry, Zoro."

"Damn right," your boyfriend states. "And Luffy?"

Your captain's head raises, face screwed in anticipation of what the swordsman had for him.

"Give her the water."

"But—"

"Now, moron!"

You go to counter Zoro's demand, insisting that it is fine, but Luffy hastily rips the rope from his neck and stretches his rubber arm to drop the waterskin in your lap.

"Thanks, Luffy."

His only response is a whiny grumble.

"Here, Chop," You unscrew the lid and push the bottle towards the reindeer. "Drink."

Chopper lifts his head weakly. "No, that's yours."

Rolling your eyes, you shove it further into his tiny chest. "Zoro won't curse you for drinking it, I promise."

Nodding, Chopper takes the waterskin between his hooves and sips.

"Hey, no fair! Why do she and the reindeer get water, and we don't?"

Zoro stops dead in his tracks and drops the rope to the sled. "Usopp."

A terrified scream echoes through the barren desert, and then Zoro rounds the sled and tackles the sharpshooter to the ground.

Nami groans from the front of the group. "Can't we have a normal trip for once?"

Vivi's soft voice follows. "Doesn't look like it."

"Please! Please, I'm sorry! Zoro, please! I'm not meant for combat!"

"Shut it, asshole," Zoro sighs. "You speak to my girl like that again? See what happens." 

[damn-stark]

Chapter 21 Icarus

Chapter 21 of Moonlight

A/N- Someone makes a special appearance in this chapter!

Warning- Swearing, talks of pregnancy, violence and blood, ANGST!!, fluff, SPOILERS FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode/Pages- 449-452

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

As if kept apart for years with just distorted words repeating in his mind, and only able to cling onto the ghost of your scent to try and keep your memory alive, when night falls and you’re laying in bed, Aemond holds onto your waist with a tight grip as if he faltered even a bit you would slip from existence. He buries his face in your lap and occasionally you feel wet kisses pressed against your flesh.

His demand to be clinging when you returned from scouting is not something that bothers you, you quite enjoy him not being able to be without you. You find solace in the warmth of his hand when you navigate through corridors, and feel giddy when you catch his lingering stares that burrow deep within you as if he’s trying to grasp the fact that you’re by his side.

It’s all so sweet and you love it when Aemond is sweet. Yet you can’t help but start to wonder why he hardly let you out of his sight since you returned from scouting.

“Is something wrong?” You finally break the peaceful silence and stroke his hair.

Aemond remains as he is for a moment before he just slightly tilts his head up to look at you between the strands of his hair that stick to his face. “Does there have to be something wrong for me to be this way with you? It’s not uncommon for us to lie like this.”

“I know,” you say softly as you gently tuck his hair behind his ear. “It’s just…I don’t know…I feel like something’s wrong with you. Are you okay?”

Aemond holds onto your gaze and tries to brush you off, but those three words seem to cause him to fight an inner conflict that makes his eye soften and then harden before a swift conclusion brings tears to his eye, causing your eyebrows to immediately furrow out concern while your breath hitches out of surprise because he’s being so expressive.

“Aemond?” You whisper and slide your hand down to cradle his cheek.

Said man slowly pulls his hands off your waist to grab your hand on his cheek and press a lingering kiss on the heel of your hand, making you grow even more concerned.

“Can I just look at you for a moment?” He asks and your eyebrows knit together before you lean toward him and probe.

“Aemond what is it?” You have to keep probing before your concern kills you, but your dearest husband just sighs deeply and continues with silence while he makes your hands slip off his face as he sits up with his head hanging low.

You want to keep pressing him with words, but you use a more desperate plea by brushing his hair back with your hands before you grab his face and find his gaze to plead that way. Desperately and deeply concerned.

Albeit Aemond presses his forehead against yours and draws in a deep breath with his eye closed.

“My love,” you coo, and he keeps quiet for a moment longer before he pulls back to face you and finally speak about what's troubling him so.

“You are…” he trails off in a whisper and his gaze slowly slides off you.

“Aemond,” you whisper.

Said man’s gaze slowly drifts to the corner of the room and remains in the shadows before he blinks and looks back at you with a more determined gaze.

“You are to remain out of war councils,” he speaks in a voice slowly lacing with a coldness so you know that this is no jest. “You are to stop dueling and scouting. And most importantly you will not under any circumstance take part in any battle be it in the sky, on the sea, or the ground.”

Your concern falls as you’re struck with disbelief. “This,” you stammer. “This is some jest.” You shake your head. “It has to be because—it’s not funny, Aemond.”

He clenches his jaw and averts his gaze as he shakes his head. “No, it is not some jest. It’s how things will be from now on.”

Your eyes widen with that same disbelief still running its course within you as it doesn’t fully hit you just yet that what he speaks of is real.

“You…” you trail off to slide off the bed. Aemond quickly mirrors you and follows after you as you stride away from the bed. When he captures your arm you turn around with a look of hurt painted on your face—“Am I not good enough? I can try harder, I can. Just…don’t make me stop.”

Aemond’s gaze softens again and he grabs you with both hands now.

“No,” he rebuttals right away. “It’s not that. You are great, but—”

“Is it what Ser Criston said in the corridor?” You cut him off in a sudden burst of anger. “Because if it is, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s just some low-life knight who doesn’t know anything about Targaryens.”

Aemond shakes his head and swallows thickly before he interjects to finally give reason to his decision. “It’s a decision I made myself because I don’t think it’s safe for you to be out there while you’re with child. It’s a war, not some game. I can’t put you at risk. I won’t.”

A flicker of hurt passes through you, threatening you towards using sorrow to argue back, but the anger and frustration burst through, drowning out the sadness that built up at his words since he knows that being cast aside is something that wounds you deeply.

“You,” you mutter before you yank your arms out of his grasp and push him back over and over again with each word that leaves past your lips. “It’s always you. You. You. You! What about me?!” You bark and push him back one more time before you stand up straight with your chest puffed out, your lips parted as you heave, and your gaze spewing rage and disbelief that still lingers within you. “What about what I want, huh?! What about what I want, Aemond!”

“I just want to protect you!” He counters back but not in the same anger you display, he just feels frustrated because you’re not understanding. “I’m protecting you, don’t you see that?!”

“I can protect myself!” You hit your chest. “You've seen that! You can’t make me stand idly by your side! I will not be gawked at! I can fight,” you cry. “I can do it! I am something, I am someone! I have,” you exhale. “I have proved it. I have.” You nod gently as you lose that rage and agony returns.

“I won’t lose you,” Aemond’s voice breaks whilst his gaze is pointed at you as he’s feeling nothing but determination to defend his decision even if you keep arguing. “I won’t. I cannot lose you!”

You take a moment to catch your breath and process the agony behind his own words. When you have somewhat calmed down you step toward him and look at him softly. “You won’t lose me. I’m here. I will always be here with you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Aemond drops his head and draws in a deep breath. “You won’t. That’s right,” he whispers before he brings his head up and looks at you with a narrowed look. “I already told you. You will not take part in any fighting of any kind, or any war councils. You will remain Princess Regent, but that’s all you’ll be, no more Blood Dragon or Fire Demon. I’m sure you can do a lot of Regent duties even from here.”

You nod gently and slowly lower your gaze to try and find your thoughts on the ground. Anywhere really. Yet all that you can come across is more disbelief that leaves you saying only one single word that holds no meaning. “Alright.”

You then shove past him and as you grab your robe he questions your actions that you hardly give any thought to. “Where are you going?”

You stride to the doors and give your answer to the moist air. “The Godswood. Can I do that?”

Aemond calls out your name to retort your sassy remark, but you just leave your quarters in a huff. When you’re in the corridor you take a torch from the wall and pace down the corridors like a ghost haunting the castle with your mind still focused on your argument, and don’t snap out of your stupor until you’re outside with your feet in the cold lakes shore.

The cold water forces you to take in your surroundings and wonder what changed and why so suddenly.

Is it really because of what he mentioned? Or is it something else? Something far more complicated like him not thinking you’re good enough.

Why?

You don’t—you can’t just sit by with a plastered smile watching as the world goes on living around you like you’re some caged bird. You have to be more than that right?

Or maybe you’re not. Maybe you’re forever destined just to be unremarked and not amount to a thing. Just a forgotten name with a forgettable face.

Is that all you are to this world? To everyone you cherish?

You are more than that…

Cregan would think so. But would he have done the same thing as Aemond? You have to wonder as you look across the lake with just the stars as your company, unbeknownst to the fact that on a small hill that overlooks the Gods Eye, the soul you think of has you in his mind and wonders when he’ll have to stop depending on just his memories to see you again. He wonders how you are after the death of your beloved brother, and if you’re okay; that one is heavy in his mind because there’s only so much he hears about you and it's never what he truly desires to know. And it’s not like you can send each other letters anymore.

Even if you are so close to one another during this tragic war, it still feels like the same distance between Winterfell and King’s Landing stands between you since letters can’t be exchanged, and neither of you can see face to face even if you are so close.

Memories are all you have, and it’s why you realize that Cregan wouldn’t be much different than Aemond. Cregan is protective too, more stubbornly so. Which is why it’s not like you can go to him either, you would be stuck in the same predicament.

And the same goes for your mother, so there’s truly nowhere you belong now—

Maybe at the bottom of that lake…

Nevertheless, because of the silence that surrounds you at night, it’s easy to catch the sound of footsteps approaching, and recognize that they’re lighter than Aemond’s would be, so it’s not him. It can only be a select few, so you turn around and your curiosity is answered when you see Alys approaching.

“It’s late, why are you not abed?” You break through the sound of crickets singing in the distance.

“I wonder the same thing about you,” she redirects and then falls by your side before she continues. “Troubles with your husband?”

You draw in a sharp breath and turn around before you exhale slowly and walk over to a large rock to sit on it. “Tell me why you’re still here Alys. You’re a witch, I imagine it’s easy finding ways to leave these wetlands.”

Alys mingles by the lake for a moment before she turns around and drags her feet toward you to sit on a lower rock next to you. “This is my home,” she puts it simply. “Where would I go?”

You glance across the lake with a longing look and sigh deeply before sharing the first place that comes to mind. A place you haven’t dreamt of going to in some time. “Yi-Ti. I heard it's beautiful there, full of wonderful and bad people alike. It’s somewhere far, where you can be something...”

Alys steals a look at you before she sits up and keeps her eyes on the horizon. “Have you considered it? You have a dragon and money that a lot of people only dream about. I imagine it would be easy for you too.”

You swallow back the lump that grows in your throat and nod slowly as you look up at the endless sky now. “I could go to King’s Landing and take my son and leave to never return. It would be easy, I could be something there that I’m not allowed to be here.”

Alys nods gently in comprehension. “But it would be selfish,” she says words that go against her nod, words that cut you deeply. “Leaving it all behind because of what? A disagreement.”

You scoff as you drop your head. “No,” you mutter. “It’s…you wouldn’t get it.”

“Perhaps so. Then leave.”

You don’t know her so you can’t take apart her words and understand if she’s leading you on or being serious. Thus you slowly raise your head to look at her, catching her gaze already on you with nothing but sincerity. She’s serious, she’s pushing you to do what you want and that slight pressure is what makes you falter. Just enough for her to pick you apart.

“Why is it that you’re so dedicated to your Prince?” She asks and looks with a slight smirk playing on her lips. “Your dragon is not chained and you’re not chained, you may leave whenever you desire. Yet even with your mother on that throne you still stick by him, why?”

It’s simple. The answer is quick to come to mind and slip past your tongue. “Because he loves me selfishly. All of me, the dark part of me. Because loving him is consuming in the best way possible. Because he understands the inner workings of my conflicted soul and to let him go…would be like losing a part of my soul.”

Alys sighs deeply and doesn't fret to speak boldly. “And what about the Wolf of the North?”

You blink repeatedly in disbelief, and there in the depths of your chest, where your heart used to be is a faint jolt. Be it nerves or some reconnection to what you thought was lost, you don’t know. All you know is that you feel it.

“He,” you whisper with no control of your words, it’s easy to speak to her. Even if you don’t know her you know for some reason that nothing you say will be spread like a disease. “He has this way that he looks at me…like no matter how dark, how far, or how many people may be swarming him he only has eyes for me. He will always find me. He looks at me like he’s found salivation, hope. Loving him is exciting,” your words come easy, and a faint smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “Maybe it was because it was a secret, but…I don’t believe that to be true.” You sigh shakily and drop your head once again.

Alys hums and gently hits the side of her thigh before she quips. “I don’t envy you. Loving two people sounds exhausting.”

You shake your head to contradict her and try to say it’s the farthest thing from the truth, but you don’t want her to ask you to pick one so you stay quiet. Not because it’s hard, it’s easy. You truly, honestly, and deeply love them both.

You do. It’s selfish, yes, but it’s true.

“You can’t leave,” Alys returns your conversation to what you were initially speaking of before she sidetracked you. “Not to Yi-Ti, and not to King’s Landing. Not yet.”

You drag your leg up to prop your elbow on your knee and rest your chin on your hand as you look at her with confusion. “Why is that?” You probe. “At least in King’s Landing, I can be with my son.”

Alys draws out deeply and slowly meets your gaze. “Because then all of that wisdom that I let you see will be for nothing…”

You blink slowly in disbelief and sit up as your face goes hard. “What do you mean?” You ask in a threatening manner.

“Just that. I let you see the truth about your father and your mother's plan. It was me,” she reveals, and it clicks. That’s why she was so familiar. That’s why it feels like you know her, because of that vision in the fire that she gave you.

“Why?” You deadpan without blaming her for anything. You’re honestly thankful that she let you see the truth.

“Because you would have died otherwise,” she shares, making you scoff—“And that can’t happen yet. I needed you to go down a different path in life.”

“You know,” you interject and get up to look at the stars with an inkling of frustration. “I am getting sick of people telling me I am going to die, and trying to save me from it.”

Alys follows you to your feet and takes a step forward to grab your attention and make sure you’re meeting her eyes and not lost in the stars as she reaches deep within her to share what you need to hear. So you know that you don’t need to exhaust yourself to prove yourself. So you can see clearly what you are, what people like Aemond and your mother see, but you don’t. She wants you to know who you have been all along.

“Listen to me, I know how you feel. I have lived a long time, I have gone through the trials you are facing in life, and it’s why I’m telling you that you need to stop thinking that you’re lesser than you are. It’s not true. I saw it, everyone that resides in this castle saw it, and you know it.”

Your eyes water and for the first time since Jacaerys died those tears break out and roll down your cheeks. “How do you know?” Your voice quivers.

Alys’ eyes dig deeper in your watery gaze to connect deeper with you so you know that every word that is going to come out of her is the truth. “I know because there’s already whispers about you traveling throughout the Kingdoms. They whisper about the Fire Demon born to the Queen. The Fire Demon who damned the Triarchy. Fear is gripping onto them because of you. Because of what you are and what you were gifted with. The Princess who rose from the ashes. A warrior and so much more.”

The corner of your lips twitch to a smirk, but that pride that starts to rummage within you doesn’t get a secure hold of you yet. Disbelief and confusion still linger.

“That’s who you are,” she presses confidently. “But not all you will be.”

You tilt your head up as you start to grow smug.

“You need only keep walking down that path, if you steer away because of your own doubt and insecurity you will lose and everything that you fear will come true.”

Self-doubt whispers in your ear to not trust her, it sinks its claws deep in your flesh and wants to sabotage you. It threatens to. “How do you know? How do you know I won’t steer? Hope?” Your doubt speaks for you, making Alys raise her head and scoff.

“Hope is folly. Hope doesn’t make change, we do.” She speaks with confidence laced in every single word, reassuring you, and fighting off that doubt that gripped onto you until you don’t even feel it linger. You trust her completely and get rid of that doubt you carried about yourself and that tormented you after your argument with Aemond.

Alys sees that with a glimmer in your eyes and her own smugness only heightens. And it’s also because you choose to trust her blindly that she steps back and points to the Godswood in the distance. “Come, I need you to see something.”

She walks ahead while you linger behind and look back at the lake with a flicker of longing to see those grey eyes that paid your mind a visit.

Yet you don’t linger behind too long, you catch up to Alys and she leads you right to the base of the Weirwood tree where you’re face to face with the weeping face, and hear it again. The whispers from before. And like the other times, they are incoherent, but louder and louder, urging you to reach for the white-wooded tree. Yet no matter how inclined you are to come in touch with the dripping sap your eyes are the only thing you keep on the tree.

That is until Alys’ cold hand wraps around yours and she lifts it for you.

“Are you sure?” You ask as you drift your gaze to the corner of your eyes, and all she does is hum her response before she connects the tip of your fingers to the crimson sap that falls down the white bark.

Right away the whispering is silenced and a soft humming fills your ears with a melody you recognize as a haunting one from the book of songs and ballads Aemond gifted you. It slowly grows louder and goosebumps slowly grow along your skin while the red sap that runs down the bark grows thicker and flows down faster, covering your hand completely before it drops on the ground.

You follow the substance down with your eyes and there reflected on the surface of the thick sap is a pair of eyes that are not yours. This pair of eyes are sharper, they carry a venom in the blue of their eyes.

You want to identify who it is. You want to narrow your gaze to see if the answer will become clear, but then the gaze turns away and disappears from the puddle of red sap. You quickly look up to try and catch who it is you saw, but suddenly you’re transported to a battlefield stained with splotches of thick blood, littered with bodies both cut up and burnt and lively with bodies still alive and fighting. Night is turned to evening, and the sun is a raging red with all the smoke that pollutes the sky.

The pair of eyes you saw reflected in that puddle of sap now has a womanly body with gold-silver hair gathered in a long braid. She carries the Valyrian sword, Blackfyre, in one hand that’s stained with blood, and carries another object in the other, but that’s something you don’t see, all you know is that it’s leaking blood and that you grow insatiably curious to the point that you follow the woman in a stomping stride.

However, when you reach a large boulder right in the center of the battlefield and catch up to the woman, she slowly starts to peer back, but you can't stop storming forward. You can’t stop. There’s a certain ferocity that fuels your blood, one so hot that you burn but don’t hurt. The burning is delicious and enthralling. When you get to the point that you go through the woman you were following, the woman that was guiding you to that boulder in the middle of the bloody battlefield, you can see in a pool of blood around your feet that who you see looking back at you now is yourself.

You can see yourself clearly in that pool of blood, donning a black chainmail gown with a gold chest plate slathered in blood. Meanwhile, your head is covered with gold chainmail, and over your face are blood-soaked chains that fall down your face like a bleeding veil, and don’t hide the venom in your eyes that matches the woman you can now identify as Queen Visenya Targaryen. She was the one guiding you here, through the thick of the battle, and now you took her place. Now you hold the blood-soaked sword and…a head.

It’s you. All you. It’s your future. It’s not something that’s said, but it is something you know for certain. This is you. You stand on the battlefield and you climb up the boulder dragging the tip of Blackfyre against the stone. When you reach the top you stand over a battlefield that’s a lot thicker and bloody, filled with large men with grey beards, and others that all fight under the same banner as you; the banner that belongs to your mother, the Queen.

Once again nothing is outright spoken to you, but you know the context deep within and you grow proud, just like you grow proud of the head you carry. Albeit unlike the knowledge just given to you, this time you can’t identify the head you carry. They have manly features so you know they’re a man, young too, with blond-silver hair, and one brown eye that stares off at the ground because the other has an arrow punctured through it. Which only feeds your curiosity, but you don’t grow ravenous to put a name to the face, you grow enthusiastic and malicious as you tilt your head up and face the army of men.

“The Daring is dead!” Your voice booms, and when the attention of your men is given to you, you throw your hand up to show off the head like a trophy and all the men cry out cheers.

“BLOOD DRAGON!”

“BLOOD DRAGON!” Is scattered around the field and more goosebumps grow along your skin.

“FOR—“ you cut yourself off as a large shadow is cast over you, and when you roll your head back to look up, you catch a small dragon torpedoing to you with its mouth open. Yet even if you see the dark she-dragon filling her mouth with fire as she comes at you, you don't run because you know Astraea is behind you and flying directly toward the threat to protect you. And you especially don’t try to take cover or shield yourself from the fire because you know you won’t burn. You welcome the rain of fire with a wicked smile.

Nevertheless, as the dragon fire bathes you, suddenly the hot blazing flames are not what hits you. Suddenly you’re smacked with a sharp and bitter coldness that forces you to turn your face away to shield your eyes.

After the breeze passes you slowly drop your hand, open your eyes, and get greeted with a fresh blanket of snow in every perimeter your eyes can see. When you fulfill your need to lift your head, you’re now hit with a wave of emotions that is not laced with venom; all the emotions are warm and blissful which make your heart swoon rather than race with malicious excitement because what you see is joy.

There’s no question about it. You’re overfilled with joy as you see a young man with dark brown curly hair wearing thick and warm winter clothes, and a thick grey fur cloak clasped over his back.

“Mother,” a soft voice speaks and you can’t help but gasp at the sound of his voice that you know deep in your bones does not belong to Aerion. This young man is different, younger than your Aerion, but he is still your…son. Your youngest boy. You know that, you feel that deep inside you. He calls out to you from where he stands in front of a large Weirwood tree in a familiar Godswood up North.

“My boy,” you whisper softly and he drops his clasped hands before slowly turning to you, causing your breath to catch in your throat when you meet his big soldem grey eyes.

“You…” he trails off and flashes you a charming smile. “Look at you.”

Tears fill your eyes and before you know it you march over to him and the first you do is grab his face. “Look at you,” you redirect and caress his cheeks, making him drop his head to hide his timid smile.

“<Please stop crying>,” he whispers in High Valyrian. “<We’ll meet again. When our time comes.>”

He lifts his head and his eyebrows furrow as his gaze grows just as serious as a man you know.

“<You look like your father>,” you comment as you study his face.

The young man scoffs and grabs your hands you keep on his face. “<Listen>,” he says and makes you find his gaze.

“<Let me look at you>,” you plead, making a warm smile melt that ice-cold expression. “<How can I see you again? How can I be certain that our paths will cross?>”

The same serious expression returns to his features as he gives you an answer. “<You must go home, mother. You will come across a crossroads again. You’ll know it when you get there, and when you do, you need to go home…back to her. That’s where you belong, she’s never forsaken you. Neither of them ever did.>”

You nod even if deep inside you don’t know if you mean it. How can you with the shattered heart that she took part in breaking?

“<After that you must deliver them to victory. Lead them. Be the great fire, for Winter is coming, Mother, and we need to light the way for The Prince that was Promised.>”

He then points his finger to the side and as you follow the direction he points to you don’t come across the thick of the forest that fills the Godswood, you see an endless dryland horizon that is cast by a blazing sun and there sitting in the midst of the drylands is a woman sat with no clothes, she’s nude, and giving her back to you.

Yet even if her back is to you, making her unidentifiable there’s a sense of familiarity—no, that’s wrong, you have seen her before in another vision. You know her. And this time she carries with her three hatchlings; a black, a green, and a cream-colored hatchling that all cling to her.

There she is, The Prince that was Promised. And then she isn’t. All of sudden you’re back in the cover of night at the Godswood of Harrenhal, feeling an emptiness, and a deep aching longing to be returned to your youngest son.

“Let me see him again,” you break the silence and spin around, coming face to face with Alys. “Please. One more time.”

Alys shakes her head stiffly. “No. You will meet again.”

You swallow back the lump that grows in your throat and even if you want to argue you just keep your head down and accept it, letting a silence seep in.

“You know what you must do. You know your place now,” Alys interjects as she reaches over and grabs your shoulder to make you slowly find her gaze.

“I’m a woman. How can I lead anyone?” You place doubt in yourself and your place.

“I already told you why you can lead. You know who you are at this point of our story,” she reassures you as she holds your gaze intently. “Don’t underestimate faith, Princess. They see you, the Princess unscathed by fire, and they see all their prayers answered.”

Without speaking a word you ask with your eyes alone if she’s sure, and without saying a word in return she looks at you with a hint of smugness mingling in her smirk.

You hold her gaze as you draw out a deep breath and push out all the lingering doubt with it to mirror her smirk in the darkness of the Godswood.

——

*4 MONTHS LATER*

It’s been four months of being in the Riverlands, at Harrenhal, which has not turned out to be so bad with Alys becoming your best friend. You’ve been inseparable since that night at the Godswood, much to Aemond’s dismay. And the only thing you can say since those four months is how much you hate about being away from Aerion for so long.

It’s been four months since you’ve seen his little face and his little smile, and it’s been four long months since you’ve heard a single word of him. All you know is that he’s 9 months old now and probably spoiled rotten by your mother. Vanessa hasn’t been able to send anything on any matter, nor can you send a raven asking for an update because of the tension between the fractions. You’re left in the dark with only Alys’ reassuring word as an offer.

She says you’ll see Aerion soon, and you believe her. You wish she could say more, you want to know more, but she can only tell you so much because she says that knowing too much of the future is a burden you don’t want. And you don’t argue about it either, you know Helaena, and you know how her dreams weigh down on her. And with everything already going on, you don’t want to carry that on your shoulders, so you don’t bother to ask about the future, it’s already changed you as it is.

You can’t say it hasn’t, because it has. It’s changed your fight. Once you fought for your own selfish desire to stay alive; and yes even now that instinct still resides within you, but there’s also something else that lives within you; a need to fight for something grander.

You must light the way and so you shall. That’s what you’re meant to do. That guarantees that the future of your house, your bloodline, and that of your family's bloodline, flourishes. That guarantees the birth of the Prince that was Promised. But how can you leave Aemond?

You could leave on top of Astraea any time you wanted, Aemond can’t chain her and he wouldn’t follow you to the Red Keep, but…you can’t find the need to leave him. You can’t part from him, and you can’t fathom the thought even if he’s changed as well.

Being at Harrenhal seems to have made Aemond paranoid, and more protective, and has him lost in thought a lot of the time which only leaves him more erratic. He’s more violent and prone to bursts of anger. Have you made it easier? You can’t say you have. You admit it. You’re still upset about what he forbade you from doing, of keeping you like a caged bird unable to be part of any war councils. You’re not riddled with those insecurities that once took a hold of you before, but he still has you trapped and estranged from anyone who wanders too close. You’re like his shadow, or some tapestry only good to admire. That’s what you are to him. All he lets you be to everyone accompanying you.

Yet that’s why it’s easier to hide in the shadows with Alys. No one bothers you there, only each other.

“You were right,” you tell her as you come to a stop on the balcony that overlooks that massive grande hall and see Ser Criston and Ser Gwayne preparing to leave with the army of men, but without Aemond and you.

It seems last night they had an argument about what it is that needs to be done. Food is starting to run short, horses and men are dying to sickness and hunger, and forging parties have to go past burnt fields and burnt towns alike to try and get what is needed.

Yet no matter how many forging parties leave, none return. And those Western men, well, Cregan and the Northman have really made a name for themselves when they joined forces with the Rivermen because they demolished the Western army. They took heavy losses, but at the end of the battle that the men call the Fishfeed, banners for the Queen are all that were seen.

You wish you could see the glory, but the best you could do was hear about the glory through the mouths of people who weren’t there, and Alys who paints a much more gloomy picture. Yet it’s through those words that you can say the Battle by the Lakeshore impacted your stance at Harrenhal; the glory that Aemond wanted to take from Daemon did not even grow twice the size, it was just a sad attempt that failed miserably.

And even then he refuses to leave, you can assume that’s why Ser Criston and Ser Gwayne are taking the army. There’s no need for you to be here anymore so you can only imagine they’re going to join the Hightower army now. If the Rivermen and the Northmen allow them to that is.

“You should bid your farewells,” Alys suggests as she stands by you and watches over the same scene below.

“Should I really?” You quip and press your hand on your swollen belly as you drift your gaze to focus solely on Aemond. And even if tension lies between you that has turned you both distant, you still look at him like he’s the brightest star in a sky littered with smaller and duller stars. You admire the way he stands so poised and has his jaw clenched, flexing his sharp features. You admire the way he silently damns the men with his pointed glare. And you smile softly like you do when you admire the brightest star; the morning and evening star.

“You know how much I detest Ser Criston,” you grumble to Alys. “I’m actually thrilled he’s finally leaving.”

“What of Ser Gwayne?” She then brings up. “He’s quite charming.”

You drift your gaze to her and slowly but surely realize she’s right so you push yourself away from the balcony and turn away, at that moment missing the way Aemond lifts his gaze and catches the way your gown twirls as you turn away. When you’re in the corridors and know that no soldiers are lurking in the shadows you interject. “Will it bode them well to leave?”

Alys’ gaze falls on you and she responds but with a question. “What do you think?”

You draw out a deep breath and share your running thoughts. “With the Northmen and Rivermen now standing triumphant, I’ll say they will be walking into a field of fire they won’t be able to evade.”

Alys stays quiet so you continue sharing your piece of mind. “If I had been at that council I would have advised them to do as Daemon did, take the host around the enemy and evade a fight to be able to join forces with the Hightower army. Lands there aren’t destroyed, there’s food and more horses for the taking.”

Alys turns her head as you do and you catch a proud smirk on her face, showing that she praises your response.

“Alas, you were not there. Don’t worry yourself of their struggles anymore,” she says as you both continue to look ahead.

Once you reach the great hall where Ser Criston, Ser Gwayne, and Aemond are, they all stop what they’re doing to give you their attention.

“I have come to bid my farewells,” you tell the pair of men ready to march. “Good luck in your battles to come, Ser Criston. I hope we see each other again,” you lie straight through your teeth and offer him a sweet smile before you glance at Alys to flash her sly smirk.

In return, she offers you a slight nod that you alone catch before you slide your eyes back to the knight and lift your hand to offer it to Ser Criston Cole.

The second the knight catches what you seek from him, his eyes find Aemond to speechlessly ask for an excuse to not do what you want from him and what will make him bow to you, but Aemond only backs up your request by lifting his chin and expecting the Knight to go ahead.

And thus, the Knight lowers his head from its ever so prideful hold, letting his gaze fall on your face for a second, and in doing so making you lift your nose in the air to show off your power over him because no matter if he’s a forced to be reckoned with and a legendary swordsman, all that amounts to nothing compared to you. You will always be above him in every way, and he hates that you are, he hates knowing it, and he hates seeing it on your face as you look down on him with the thick gold circlet around your head gleaming against the ray of sun that shines over you at that moment. As if the gods themselves approved of you’re holier than thou status in this world.

Then again, nothing outshines the wicked mischievousness that plays in your eyes as his gaze falls on your hand decorated with expensive rings. When he takes your hand he does so with the most delicate touch, not because he thinks you’re delicate, but because it’s eating at his pride. That’s why he's hesitant and slow as he bends down and presses his lips on your knuckles. All while you lower your head, making the chains attached to your circlet lightly clink against each other whilst your eyes show off the smugness you can’t show off with a smirk.

Once Ser Criston has done his part he pulls his hand away and stands to his given height. Yet you’re not done tormenting him yet. You proceed to step forward and press a light kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Princess,” he’s forced to say.

You pull away and offer him a teasing smile you manage to play off as sincere.

“Farewell, Ser,” you offer him one last time before you roll your eyes away and face Ser Gwayne with an actual sweet smile. “Good luck to you Ser. I hope you see many victories.”

Ser Gwayne offers you a warm smile and he willingly takes your hand to press a kiss on your knuckles before you offer him a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Please tell Daeron we send our greetings,” you tell him before you go. “And that we’re looking forward to joining forces with him and Tessarion soon.”

“I will,” he assures you and presses his hand on your belly. “You take care, and learn a new song so I may hear it when we reunite.”

You flash him a grin and nod in agreement before you reach over to give his arm a squeeze and then step away. After you offer both men one last look you then turn with the intention to leave, but first steal a glance at Aemond, catching his gaze on you so you let your own gaze linger on him.

“Come find me at the Godswood later,” you break the silence that was between you. “Okay?”

A flicker of relief and shock flickers in his gaze as he’s not hesitant to nod in agreement, letting you offer him a genuine and sweet smile that he doesn’t take for advantage. He cherishes the smile you offer him, the smile now rare to see directed at him. A smile so captivating he can’t help but admire you and almost leave it all behind to follow your lead at that moment as you finally walk away.

Yet even if his body turns towards you as you get further and further away, he doesn’t follow after you, he stays put and keeps in mind your invitation to go find you later.

“Has there been a sighting of Sunfyre?” You ask Alys as you make your way to the Godswood while the men that occupied the castle slowly file out. “The Golden Dragon?” You clarify.

“No, not beside the time he flew away from Rook’s Rest.” She says news you already knew but still welcome to let an idea form in your mind.

“He lived by miracle, which is great, but we’ll have to kill him,” you mention your idea. “Or his rider. Whichever it is, we can't let them reunite. The Blacks may have the numbers, but a dragon with a dragonrider is still a threat. And with the crown having the people against them, regaining Sunfyre is an advantage we can’t have.”

“What do you suppose you can do from here?” Alys remarks, making you slowly look at her with an annoyed look before you scoff and retort.

“You want me to leave you alone?”

Alys tilts her head and her lips turn to a slight smile. “I could never forget you for as long as I live.”

“Memories don’t make you laugh. I make you laugh, me,” you quip and she scoffs before she leans towards you and bumps into your side.

“I already told you…”

“We’ll never be out of each other's lives,” you finish for her since she’s already assured you of that piece of the future. “I know, but…”

“You can’t avoid your mother forever,” she adds for you, making you drop your gaze as you keep walking—“it’s not possible with the state of things.”

“I can’t leave Aemond,” you mutter and look back at her with a conflicted gaze. “He needs me too. I need him.”

“What of your son?” She counters with a comment that makes you go quiet and sorrowful all the way to the Godswood, and when you’re sitting on a boulder a few feet away from the Weirwood tree.

You can't seem to break the solemn silence that Alys cast over you as all that occupies your mind is guilt for the little one who hasn’t felt his mother’s warmth in 4 months because you can’t stop being petty, and have all your attention centered on your husband.

Aerion deserves better than that. He deserves a mother who’s there for all his needs, for all his firsts as he nears one years old, but instead, you’re here still trapped and foolishly dedicated to a man you have a strain with. You’re being selfish and meanwhile, he’s growing up without you.

“Here.”

You lift your eyes off your hands and look up to see Ser Jason approaching you with a beautifully decorated cord in his hand—“So when you miss your son you have this to remember him by when you’re apart,” he continues sharing as he comes to a stop in front of you and shows off a beautiful cord decorated with beads, shells, and an orange pearl.

“I just know how much you long to see him again, and well I thought it would be nice,” he begins to ramble nervously. “My own mother made one for me so I could remember her when I was away. Of course, I was young but it was reassuring.”

You blink repeatedly as your cheeks begin to burn out of heartwarming disbelief. “Oh,” you gasp and carefully take the cord. “Thank you, Ser. How sweet,” you coo and gently brush your thumb over the enchanting orange pearl. “How beautiful. Are you sure? This pearl…it looks rare.”

Ser Jason nods rapidly and then takes a seat next to you. “Yes, I’m sure, and it is rare, but who better to have it than you?”

A smile creeps on your lips. “Thank you, Ser, you’re sweet. And,” you pause and swallow thickly, feeling that smile fall all too fast. “I’m sorry for having you stay here,” you finally address the guilt that you carry about him. “I know it’s not ideal, it's always so gloomy here, and resources are running scarce.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he lets the word slip, making you giggle which in turn causes him to catch what slipped out of his mouth—“Forgive me that’s no way to speak. Sorry.”

You shake your head. “Do not worry, Ser. It’s alright.”

Ser Jason keeps his eyes on you for a second longer as he quietly scolds you for not really correcting him the way you should, but since you don’t add on the matter he leaves it be and instead continues with what he was going to say. “I’m your sworn protector, my place is by your side even in the darkest of days.”

Your eyes soften and a smile slowly reappears on your face.

Yet like before the smile is all too short-lived when suddenly a booming voice rips through the Godswood. “YOU!”

Your eyes snap up and there stomping over is Aemond with rage twisting his face and keeping his focus locked on the man sitting next to you.

“Who do you think you are?!” He barks out. “Leave her alone!”

You stand to your feet and as you reach out to try and stop his blinding rage, Alys grabs your arm and pulls you towards her whilst Aemond reaches Ser Jason and rips him off his seat to drag him back against a wall.

“Aemond!” You bellow out. “Stop it!”

Said man wraps his hands around Ser Jason’s throat and slams his head against the stone wall, making your eyes widen with horror and confusion as to what brought this on. Ser Jason was only being nice, he wasn’t even touching you, he was just sitting next to you. That’s all!

“Aemond, leave him alone!” You try to get him away from your sworn protector, but it’s like he can’t even hear you, like once again he’s lost in a completely different world than yours.

“You’re nothing more than a bastard,” you hear Aemond sneer at your sworn protector. “You are nothing. You will never be anything, do you hear me? Do you?!”

Ser Jason manages to bring his hands up and tries to pull Aemond’s hands away, but your husband only tightens his hold, making the knight start to gasp for air.

“Do you think I’d let you get away with it?! Do you think I would let you hurt her?! Kill her?!” He keeps exclaiming and once again slams him against the wall so hard Ser Jason groans at the impact. “She’s mine,” Aemond growls. “I won’t let you hurt her!”

“Aemond!” You cry out and rip away from Alys to run over and try to pull Aemond off Ser Jason, but when Aemond feels your hands wrap around his hand he doesn’t even turn his rageful glare toward you. It’s locked on the man before him so he doesn’t see that it’s you, he just swings his arm back so hard that you lose balance and hit the floor on your side, feeling a flash of fear when you’re on the cold ground.

“Alys,” your whisper trembles and it’s at that moment when your voice hits his ears that Aemond snaps out of his blinding rage and finally sees you frozen on the ground, whilst the woman you called for rushes to your side and is quick with her efforts to help you.

“Here let’s get you up,” she insists in a hushed tone as she grabs your arm to help you to your feet. When she starts to be overbearing and examines your side, your fear slowly fades away and you’re left with a stinging pain on your side and palms.

Even then you try to play it off as you’re in disbelief as to what just happened. “I’m fine,” you try to assure her. “I think I just scraped my side.”

Alys doesn’t see any blood coming out from your sides, nor does she notice any coming out from between your legs so she then grabs your hands and yanks them towards her, noticing at that moment that your palms are the only ones that are bleeding.

“Not fine,” she quips.

You pull your hands away from her grasp and insist otherwise. “I am fine, just tend to Ser Jason. Please,” you press with both your words and your eyes.

Alys seems hesitant, but when she glances back at the man behind her standing in horrified disbelief as to what he caused, she gets the hint of what you want to do and does as you said.

However, even when she walks away with Ser Jason, you fail to face Aemond. Your mind is running wildly, bouncing from thought to thought and feeling to feeling as it’s all in shambles not knowing what to do or what to think next.

All that’s clear is that Aemond hurt you. He might have not meant it, but he hurt you. He did. And it might not hurt, it may not scar like when he accidentally slashed your cheek, but the scrapes sting and you remember the short-lived fear that you had because of the twins you’re carrying.

“I…” Aemond trails off and you hear him stepping toward you. “Are you okay?”

Those words. Those damn words always work to bring out your emotions and this time it’s no different. Yet rather than feeling cared for when he asks, you instead feel…anger. Anger that only heightens when you finally look up and meet his gaze filled to the brink with tears, worry, and guilt.

“I…” he trails off again and once again he steps towards you, but this time without stopping. He reaches you and his eyes wander your body for any blood. “I didn’t see you. I didn’t know…I,” his words quiver and he finds your gaze, finding nothing more than anger in your eyes. There’s no warmth that lets him feel reassured, that lets him know you’re truly unaffected by the accident. All your anger is accumulated in your eyes at this very moment and it all stares right back at him in the face. There's not even angry words that escape you that help him work this out, which actually tells him a lot more than words ever could.

At this moment, as you glare at him, and he looks at you, he sees a decision. He sees the path that you both walked down hand in hand coming to a crossroads and breaking you apart by your choice alone. If it was up to him he would always choose to walk down the same path hand in hand, but he sees as clear as day that you’re drifting down a different path.

“I’m returning to Aerion,” is all that your anger lets you say, and it’s all that you actually want and need to say to express your resolve.

There’s no more confusion or disbelief. Only anger and resolve. Where there was once hesitance to leave Aemond, now there’s an urgency to leave. Which is why you swiftly spin around and storm away toward your quarters to try and get the belongings you can carry. You’ll have Ser Jason bring the rest by horse. You just can’t and won’t stay. No matter how much he starts pleading and spewing out apologies.

“You cannot go, your place is here with me,” Aemond says after you, but you don’t respond, you just pick up your pace.

“Are you listening?” Aemond calls out in response to your silence. “Where will you go?!”

“To my mother,” you snap back, making him lunge forward to grab your arm and turn you around to face him.

“You will be a traitor,” he sneers with his anger returning but faltering all in the same while.

“Then kill me. You can’t burn me, so you will have to kill me, Aemond,” you counter spitefully before you tilt your head and become bold. “Because I am a traitor. Before I found out my mother lied I was sending her letters about the plans you and your Green council made.” You snicker and feel a smirk twitch on your lips. While Aemond blinks in disbelief and lets you go as he tries to search in your eyes if you’re lying just to have him let you go, but all he sees is sincerity. You’re speaking the truth and when he realizes that his lips part and a breath escapes him.

And even if the sadness in his eye makes you falter, and aches your own soul, you don’t let it take over. You can’t stay a moment longer, this is not your place anymore. Not after what he did, so after a deep breath you slip away from his hold and return to your raging path.

Once you reach your chambers you don’t hear him after you so it’s easy to collect your immediate belongings and stuff them in a bag. He’s not trying to stop you like before, he’s not snatching your things out of your hands so it’s all easy.

However, as surprised and relieved as you are that there’s no fight. It was too easy indeed because the moment you turn around with the intention to walk out, the door is slammed shut and you hear a key turn before you hear something blocking the door. And since only one person was after you trying to stop you from leaving, you realize your revelation didn’t affect Aemond the way you wanted it to. He didn’t care in the grand scheme of things.

“Aemond,” you call out with confusion and drop the bag to run to the door and try to open it, but it’s locked and you’re met by an overpowering force. “Aemond?” You call out again desperately.

“I…had an inkling you were never loyal to our side. Not until you found out the truth,” his voice travels through the wooden door. “You always detested Aegon, and I always knew you had a blinding loyalty toward your mother, so as shocking as it is to hear you admit it, I expected it.”

You try to open the door again but when you’re met by the same force you tap the door with your palms. “Then just let me go. Aemond, please.”

Something presses against the surface on the other side before he speaks softer. “That was in the past, It doesn’t bother me all that much. What bothers me…what I cannot stand is you leaving, because if you leave and something…happens when I’m not there to help you I’ll lose you…” he trails off and a thump hits the door. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Aemond,” you whimper and drop your forehead against the door. “Please, my love. Please don’t lock me in here.”

“I will leave men here to make sure that nothing happens to you and make sure that you stay here. They will also guarantee that the witch brings you food and cleans what it is that needs cleaning while I’m out okay?” He says through the door. “I’ll return soon.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Where are you going?” You query.

Silence follows for a moment before he responds. “We’re surrounded by traitors. It’s time they pay the price, and once word reaches Rhaenyra of what is happening, Daemon will come to meet me so I stop burning their allies' lands. That’s when I’ll finally rid this world of my uncle's existence. We can win after that.”

“Aemond,” you cry out as you shake your head against the door. “Please, please don’t do this. Please.”

You hear him sigh before he speaks quietly. “I love you. There’s no one I love or could ever love more than you. It’s why I’m doing this. It’s for your own good.”

Tears slip out of your eyes while your chest clenches as you start to realize that nothing you say will change his mind. All the pleading will amount to nothing at this moment in time because he believes that what he’s saying is right. He believes that he is doing right by you.

But he’s only hurt you more, doesn’t he see that? Doesn’t he hear it in your desperate pleas?

“Aemond,” you whimper.

Said man doesn’t respond with words, his shadow lingers under the door frame before it departs as you hear his footsteps recede.

“Aemond?!” You call out louder and pull your head away from the door. “Aemond?!” You cry out with tears streaming down your cheeks. “Aemond! Let me out! Let me out! Please! Let me out damn it!”

Yet no amount of shouts or desperation changes his mind. He leaves you trapped in your chambers. He leaves you alone in Harrenhal as he mounts Vhagar and ascends the skies without you.

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan @weepingfashionwritingplaid @answer-the-sirens

[masonmontz]

heey, hope you like it :)

fluff word count: 1,2k

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

You sighed when you stopped the car and saw Mason standing there waiting for you, and as soon as he saw you he walked slowly towards the car looking at the ground.

Rasmus walked in front of the car and greeted you, and you gave him a smile, but you knew neither of them were happy about the draw in today's game.

“Hey babe” you said as Mason sat in the passenger seat, and he just threw his backpack in the back seat and rested his head on the seat. 

“Hey” he spoke softly and sighed, and you unbuckled your seatbelt and leaned in to leave a kiss on his cheek. Mason turned his face and you kissed his lip, trying to hug him, but a car honked behind you and you had to let go of him. “What a day.” 

You smiled and started to leave the airport parking lot while Mason didn't say anything, and he was quiet the whole way home. It wasn't a bad game, but Manchester United didn't score any goals even with possession, and they missed a lot of chances to score, but you know that's not what's bothering Mason.

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” you asked as soon as you entered the house, without talking much during the journey. You talked about everything except football, and sometimes Mason answered or he just listened to you. “I can make pasta or we can order something.”

“Actually, honey, I'm not hungry, but you can order something for dinner and I'll pay” he said and took off his uniform jacket, and you just shrugged because it's hard to comfort Mason at times like this. “I'm going to take a shower.”

You sighed and went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water and then went back to the living room to look for a restaurant to order something for you, and even though Mason said he wasn't hungry, you knew he would eat your food if you didn't order anything for him. 

Fifteen minutes passed and Mason still hadn't come downstairs, which was odd, so you put your phone away after ordering Mexican food for the two of you and went upstairs to talk to him.

You could hear the shower running from the bathroom in your room, so you walked over there only to see Mason with his eyes closed and his hand resting against the wall. He had left the door open, but you still knocked before entering. Mason opened his eyes and saw you, and even though he was sad he smiled at you, making your heart skip a beat. 

Mason turned off the shower and you grabbed a towel for him from the counter, and as soon as he opened the shower you handed him the towel, which he thanked you for before starting to dry himself.

You watched Mason dry himself off as you leaned against the bathroom sink, and even though you knew he was sad, you couldn't help but run your eyes over his thick thighs, which looked more attractive every day. Mason wrapped the towel around his waist and you left the bathroom, and when you lay down on the bed, he went to the closet to put on a black sweatsuit. 

In less than five minutes he threw himself next to you on the bed, and you just reached out to stroke his damp hair.

“Wanna talk about today?” you asked and Mason closed his eyes, putting his hands on his face. “You don't have to keep it all to yourself, Mase.”

“I’m so frustrated” he said and you sighed, approaching him and placing your face in his neck. “I don't even know why I traveled with the team today if I didn't even leave the bench.”

“You were injured until last week” Mason tends to put too much pressure on himself and that's why he gets so frustrated when things don't go as he expects.

“I know, but Erik said that I was going to play today and he didn't even consider putting me in, it's ridiculous” you just put your hand on his chest and caressed it over his sweatshirt, but it was difficult because Mason spent his vacations training to be in the best shape and return to play and he got injured quickly, and only you saw how he reacted when he received the news that he was injured again.

“You need to be patient, Mason, Coach believes in you and-”

“I've been patient for so long, I just want to play and be a starter in a game for ninety minutes, is it really that difficult?” you could hear the frustration in his voice, and he knows you get sad the same way he does. “I can't stand reading so many bad messages about myself anymore, and it consumes me.”

“I know last season was tough, honey, but everyone knows how hard you worked to get back in top shape this season” you said. “Erik believes in you and so do I. You're there for a reason, you need to understand that the more you demand of yourself, the more frustrated you become.”

“Sometimes I feel like I'll never play like I did at Chelsea and-”

“You know you will, the season has started now, you have many months left to prove everyone they were wrong about you.”

“I just feel like if he had put me in today we would have had a chance, I just watched them and couldn't do anything to help the team.” 

“Today's draw wasn't your fault, and yeah, maybe you would have helped if you had played but questioning the coach is not the best idea, Mase. Who knows, maybe next time you'll start as a starter?”

Mason didn't respond and just sighed, but he pulled you against him and wrapped his legs around yours, hugging you while leaving a few kisses on your neck. You laughed out loud as he tickled you because he wouldn't let you go as he laughed with you at your screams. 

“Let me go, oh my God” you were out of breath from laughing so hard, and Mason climbed on top of you and finally stopped tickling you, and you pulled him by the neck and pressed his lips against yours. Mason leaned on the bed and when you ended the kiss he looked at you smiling, and you ran your hands over his face, because you love seeing him happy.

“Thank you for this, I know I'm being annoying but you always know how to help me” he said and you just gave him a little kiss. “You’re the best part of me, Y/n.” 

“You can talk to me about anything, right? I'll always support you, Mason.” Mason lowered his head to give you another kiss, but the sound of the doorbell interrupted you. 

“What’s that?”

“My dinner.”

“Your dinner? How about me?” 

“You said you were not hungry” you said as you walked down the stairs, smiling. 

“Looks like I'll have to eat yours then” Mason said and took the credit card before leaving the house and going to get your dinner. 

You went to the kitchen to get some plates and cutlery and returned to the living room, so you could have dinner as you always do at the coffee table watching some movie. 

“Ah, you really know how to make me feel better” he said as he saw you sitting on the carpet. 

“Do you want to watch One Tree Hill with me? Please, please” you begged and he smile. “Thank you, that’s why you’re my favorite.” 

“Just because I love you, ‘cause I can't stand hearing about Nathan and Haley anymore.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

[roboraindrop]

I watched a sneak peek *foams at the mouth* I'm Fine this is Fine

[carebearbussy]

𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙩𝙮 & 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩

ᥫ᭡ 𝙨𝙮𝙥𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝… 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙨 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨.

ᥫ᭡ 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙧𝙖! 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

ᥫ᭡ 𝙘𝙬: 𝙋𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 <3

ᥫ᭡ 𝙬𝙘: 1.3k

𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Your cravings have been going wild.

Ever since you had fallen pregnant by an absolute gargantuan of a man, you are forced to carry twice the amount of nutrients and food stored in your body. The local doctors had recommended that your usual meals be doubled in size, in order to support the extra weight it carried by having a child under Sukuna. And even Sukuna had chimed in, adding that maybe his diet would work for you. But you quickly declined the offer, taking into consideration the life growing inside of you. You did not want your child to grow up to be a cannibalistic monster, much like his father.

But your food choices have been much more bizarre as of lately. Things ranging from huge one course meals that could feed a family of 7, pickled everything, anything covered in cheese, and any regular foods you ate had to be made a specific way, or served in larger portions. Which is why you had decided to wake Sukuna up in the middle of the night, one of the cravings you had pondered on being at the top of your to do list.

Every now and then, your cravings would get really bad. To the point where it was now everybody else's problem. But you truly couldn't help it.

"Kuna, 'Kuna wake up!" You whispered, as you lay spooned beside him. You shook his body from behind you as you spoke, making sure he could hear you. You felt him stretch awake with a low groan, letting you free of his grasp. "Are you awake? Its important..." you ask, awaiting a response out of him. And to your avail, he is awake, but not with the attitude you were initially hoping for. He seemed annoyed that his rest had been interrupted, but those concerns were to be put to rest, as you stepped out of bed, sliding your slippers on by the edge of the bed. He looks at your standing form with half lidded eyes, clearly making the first of many signals of his annoyance with you at the moment.

"What is so important that you wake me from my rest, woman? Im giving you six seconds to speak." He says, as he props himself upwards, sitting at the edge of the bed. With you standing near him, he seizes your hips with his lower set of hands, forcing you into his proximity. "I'm not waiting all day." He ushers you on to speak, but as you think about his possible answer, you start to rethink telling him what you truly want. You look away, clearly starting to get nervous with the attention. But as you do, he grabs your chin, forcing you to look down at him, as he searches for answers. "Go on."

"Well... i've been having cravings lately, and I wanted to know if maybe the kitchen could make me something..." You say, fiddling with your thumbs, as you feel your stomach start to growl lowly. He looks down at your stomach, as you quietly protest his decision to be made. He closes his eyes for a couple seconds, before responding.

"If this is what you really need, then I will indulge this once, brat." He says with a low sigh, as he lets go of his hold on your waist, getting up from his spot on the bed. You look up at him eagerly, silently squealing to yourself as you jump up and down slightly. You wrap your arms around your husbands neck, as you reach up on your tiptoes to pepper kisses all over his defined face. He looks down at your cheerful form, looking unaffected by the attention you give him, but deep down is smiling on the inside. He knows that as long as you stay his sweet, happy wife, then he can get a good nights rest after this.

He picks you up by the back of your thighs, as you are lifted off the ground what seems suddenly. He hoists you on his left side, one hand holding your ass up, the other acting as a back rest. Letting yourself be carried, he opens the door with his right hand, walking into the large hallway to your favorite place since becoming pregnant, the kitchen.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

It seemed as if you had started a national crisis.

With the way you had Uraume, as well as a team of the estates chefs working like dogs in the kitchen. All that could be heard from the upper left wing of the estate was the clinking and clanging of pots and pans, as well as chefs scurrying to prepare the food you had requested. Because it was well known that any request of yours, was to be taken as seriously as if it were from Sukuna.

Uraume seemed to be the only calm one, with them being used to your shenanigans. They were the head of the kitchen, as they lead all of the preparations for the 'big feast', as they like to call it. That big feast being for your pregnant self, of course.

As the kitchen was torn shred by shred trying to prepare you the perfect dish, you stood by the entrance and watched, one hand on your stomach. Standing besides you was Sukuna, with lower arms crossed, as his upper arms conducted the kitchen staff with whats right and wrong. Your eyes lit up with excitement, as you watched all of these people cater to your needs.

"Kuna, how about... chocolate filled dumplings?" You asked, looking up at your focused husband. He was busy keeping an eye on everything, making sure not to mess up your multiple requests you had made in the past twenty minutes. He looks at you with upper set of eyes, his lower ones hyper focused on the kitchen staff.

"That sounds disgusting. But if that is what you wish, so be it." He tells you, scoffing at all of the ridiculous things you had said so far. He then watches as Uraume heads your way, a silver platter in hand, holding what seemed to be at least thirty pieces of bacon, covered in chocolate and sea salt. To any sane person, this would look downright vile. But to you? Sukuna watched as your mouth practically dropped. You squealed in excitement, looking at the dish in hand. "Please enjoy, my lady." Uraume says, still holding out the dish to you as you happily devour it.

But you pause as you look over at Sukuna, still looking down at you. And thats when a lightbulb flicks in your head. You grab a piece of bacon from the tray, as you step in front of Sukuna. He looks down at you, wondering what you're up to, when you reach up on your tippy toes to try and pry open his mouth. "Pleaseeee try it!" You say, pouting your lips, still trying to open his mouth with your fingers. He looks down at you as he furrows his eyebrows, curling his lip upwards. "No, that is repulsive."

Your pout lowers into a full frown, your eyes glossy with the want for him to try what you are offering him. He rolls his eyes, as he picks up the piece of bacon you are holding with two fingers. He looks at it, as he scoffs, swallowing it in one go. "See! Its good right?" You ask him, a smile crossing your face. He looks at you with a 'are you serious?' look, before ruffling your hair, amused with how happy you were that he divulged you.

"It was horrible. Never again are you going to make me do these kinds of things for you, brat."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

[ovaryacted]

PAIRING: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x f! reader || WC: 900 CW: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Missionary Position/Mating Press. Overstimulation. Mentions of sub-space. Logan is an endearing tease.

Alright...Y'all know I just had to. If it wasn't already evident based on my previous posts, Wolverine is rotting my brain and Hugh Jackman snuck up on me in my sleep and slipped into my head again. I had to get this out of my system before I went insane lmao, and don't worry, I have longer pieces in mind for claw daddy. When writing this, I also imagined the X-Men version of Logan cause I loved the og movies, so this isn't the variant Logan from the Deadpool movie but imagine whichever version tickles your fancy! Thanks to @ozarkthedog for helping me pinpoint his characterization btw. <3

At times, Logan knew he could be a lot to handle. Not that he would really give a fuck most days, but he became more conscious of his presence when he met you. Softer, much more pliant in comparison to him, covered in hard muscle and rugged tendons. You didn’t mind his intensity, much less his overbearing weight and heavy hand. In fact, you welcomed all of him and encouraged him to let loose and forget about his fears regarding how he handled you.

“I’m not made of glass, Logan. I can take it, trust me.”

You told him once, his eyes silently apprehensive as he glanced at you. He was always careful, always self-aware, and treated you with respect. You knew it would take much more convincing to get exactly what you wanted with your lover, who was too adamant about keeping Logan and Wolverine separated in your relationship. But just this once, you asked for his trust to try something else, something a little different.

Ultimately, you got what you wanted, but your curious ambition may have underestimated the situation.

Legs pinned above his broad shoulders, Logan’s hips hammered into you as he fucked you into the mattress. You’ve lost track of time since he pulled the first orgasm between your legs, the tip of his nose and upper lip covered in your slick, glistening under the dim lighting of your bedroom. He surprised you as he kept going, pulling another release out of you with the use of his thick fingers, and a third the moment he slipped his body into yours over and over again.

The back of your head lay limp against the crumbled pillow underneath, thighs shaking on impact and your body jolting upwards with every thrust Logan gave you. You didn’t have the energy to moan or cry out for him anymore, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, and your hands loosely held his flexing biceps.

You were lost, so far gone into pleasure, your brain wasn’t working anymore. The only thing on your mind was how the tip of Logan’s cock continued to hit that spot inside you with rehearsed precision, sending you further into that fuzzy headspace you seemed to enjoy. Your eyesight grew hazy, glossed over with tears on your lashline that began to fall down your warm cheeks. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt a comforting palm on your face, fingertips tapping along your cheekbone in an attempt to ground you back to reality.

“You still with me, sugar?” He asked, gravelly voice filtering through your ears. You whined in response, pupils losing focus as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Not a single thought in your head now, huh?” The creases on Logan’s temple became more prominent as he smirked, deep strokes intensifying the heat you felt deep in your gut.

“C’mon sweetheart, need to hear you say something. Talk to me.” His nose bumped into yours, huffs evident on your bottom lip as you struggled to find your voice.

“Logan...” Your voice was breathless and raw, trailing off into a meek whimper at the feel of his other hand squeezing your waist. Your eyes trailed up to his own, hazel irises and a toothy smile came into view, causing you to clench around him. 

“There she is. This too much for you?” He knew it was, knew that this was what you asked of him, to push your limits and bring you to the point of no return.

Your mind fizzled out, the grip on his arm waning as he continued to thrust hard into you. You gave him a feeble nod, finding enough stamina to provide an answer. It was too much; three orgasms in, and your entire body felt on edge and overstimulated, sensitive to anything that was done or said within the confines of your bedroom. And yet, you didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to eat your own words and make him proud.

“I know, honey, I know. Just giving you what you wanted.” Logan teased, his tone dripping with sarcasm that matched his cocky expression.

You could feel yourself getting closer, your thighs and knees shaking on either side of his head. He continued to move against you, the hand that was on your waist drifted between your legs, seeking out your throbbing clit. His thumb pressed into the engorged nub, rubbing it in diligent circles that sent your hips jolting away from him. Logan held on to one of your thighs, pressing it towards the mattress and bending forward to pin you in place. Your heart raced, your chest ached, and you tightened at the violent wave of your next climax threatening to wash over you. 

“Keep your eyes on me, right up here. I gotcha.” Logan said, maintaining the powerful drives of his hips until you came around him with a scream of his name, doing your best to hold his gaze. You sobbed at the feeling, a neverending spiral of bliss filling your body and making your head go blank.

“That’s right, atta girl. Keep looking at me.” He rasped, groaning loudly under his breath and leaning down to give you a bruising kiss, spilling into you and filling you to the brim not that long afterwards.

Sure, Logan can be a lot to tolerate sometimes, but you didn’t mind being the one to handle him.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[toyogamii]

pt.1

shoko has never seen satoru gojo; the strongest, look quite this weak. he’s sprawled across his office desk and the smell of vodka hits her so hard her eyes water.

“what are you doing?” she drawls, eyes flitting around the room as she tries to make sense of the man’s pathetic state.

“y/n?” he slurs and struggles to raise his head up.

shoko sighs.

“not quite.”

she drops her cigarette to the ground and crushes it with her heel as she walks over to him. he finally meets her eyes and she frowns. he looks… dead. the look reminds her of someone long ago… and for a brief moment she’s terrified of the sorcerer in front of her.

“what’s going on gojo?”

he shakes his head and mumbles incoherently, laying back down on his desk. shoko has to force herself to not roll her eyes and she clenches her teeth together.

“you think this is gonna help you?”

she picks up the nearly empty bottle of alcohol and smashes it on the ground.

“you’re fucking pathetic,” she spits, “get yourself up. you’re not… you’re not going to turn out like him no matter what. you’re gonna man up and fix whatever has caused this.”

satoru stares in drunken shock at the smashed bottle. he sighs.

“i can’t… i can’t fix it,” he mutters, “messed it up to bad.”

shoko sighs again.

“did something happen with, y/n?”

he sniffles at the sound of their name coming from shoko’s mouth and gulps.

”i had to protect them,” he whispers, staring emptily at the ground, “i’m dangerous. being around me is dangerous.”

shoko doesn’t know what to say, she watches him as he watches her.

“… you’ve never been the smartest, have you, satoru?”

he scoffs and swings his arm up wildly.

“you’re so mean to me,” he pouts, the momentum from his arm causes him to slide and stumble out of the chair and onto the floor. he groans and flops defeatedly around.

“you’re a mess. stay right here and try not to hurt yourself please.”

— —

satoru doesn’t know when he blacks out or how long he’s been asleep before he hears muffled voices outside the door. his head is pounding but he feels sober enough… unfortunately.

“i don’t know shoko… after what he did…”

“at the very least talk to him, it may give closure for both of you if nothing else.”

there’s silence. then the wooden door creaks open and he winces, flinching away from the light. your blurry form comes into vision. god you’re just as beautiful as the day he left.

“satoru,” you say.

your voice is like honey to his ear, so sweet and soothing. he lifts his head, his blue eyes shining. it’s been weeks but it’s felt like years. your hand comes done to touch his cheek and he shivers, his eyes almost rolling back at the feeling of your skin on his again.

“what’s going on?”

“i miss you,” he mumbles, nuzzling into your palm. you instinctively stroke your thumb along his cheek bone.

“you cheated on me. you… you left me.”

he shakes his head.

“no.”

you raise an eyebrow and cup his chin, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“what do you mean, no?”

“i could never cheat on you.”

the way he says never almost makes you swallow hard.

“you told me you did.”

”i… lied,” he admits, shame in his voice. you freeze.

“you what?”

he groans and pulls away from you, finally sitting up fully and facing you properly. he wants you in his arms so badly.

“i lied,” he sighs, “i thought it would be better… I thought i was protecting us both.”

he feels the sting of your slap before he can fully process what happened.

“that’s for fake cheating on me.”

he gapes at you, hand coming to his cheek.

“you hit me?!”

“you deserved it.”

“… you’re right.”

you sigh one last time before leaning in and kissing him. you still taste just like strawberries and mint, he thinks.

“and that is because i’m stupid enough to still love you after all this.”

[aphelionwrotes11]

MDNI 18+ (not edited)

Part 2

Trucker!simon, who finds himself a lovely bird at a local truck stop he often runs through on his usual routes.

Sits his massive self at the bar on one of the small stools, glaring at any of the blokes who stare at you a bit too long.

Gives you a blank look when you check up on him, asking if he’d like anything else.

“Just anotha’ cuppa, sweet’art” he always says, sliding his mug towards you, which looks microscopic compared to his massive hand.

You think he doesn’t like you, considering he doesn’t ever talk to you much when you try to make small talk, but he always leaves you a fat tip. You figure he’s just quiet. He can’t dislike you that much considering how many times you’ve glanced over your shoulder to see him gazing appreciatively at your ass.

It’s an especially rowdy night at the truck stop that finally breaks the camels back. A real gentleman decided he wanted a feel of you. So he didn’t hesitate to grab a handful of the fat on your backside, his table and him whooping and hollering as you squealed and slapped his hand away, glowering at him as you scampered away to the bar.

You held back tears as you started up another pot of coffee, never were the confrontational type. This wouldn’t be the first time a man had taken it upon himself to put his hands on you, but it would certainly be the last. Considering how Simon was sat at the end of the bar; shaking with rage, his knuckles white from being clenched tight as he stood.

It all happened so quick you didn’t even catch it, you back had been turned. The restaurant went from ruckus, laughter, and loud voices, to silence after the sound of a sickening crack rung through the room.

You turned just in time to see the asshole’s friends jump from their seats and go for your favorite regular; Simon. The handsy asshole laid flat on the ground, out cold.

It took no time at all for Simon to lay out the other three, he was twice each of their size in pure muscle, and obviously lacked nothing in skill. Once he was done he simply turned to you, pointed to the back room and said,

“Go get yer things.”

You didn’t think twice. Passing your manager who stood in the doorway, face solemn. You asked him quickly if it was okay for you to leave, he took one glance at Simon and nodded his head. You grabbed your things, throwing on your coat and met Simon at the door.

He takes your arm, surprisingly gentle for his huge form, he looked enraged. His shoulders tense, brows furrowed, you’re certain if he didn’t have a mask on the lower half of his face he would have a deep frown on his lips.

You thank him softly, following him as he leads you through the full parking lot. He says nothing, staring ahead. You tell him you don’t live far, you can just walk.

“No, you’re not doin tha’.” He says, and you don’t argue.

Helps you into the cab of his massive semi, getting into the drivers side and turning up the heat.

Offers to get you some food, “haven’t seen’ya eat a bite ol night, bird.”

You refuse, thanking him for the offer, telling him you’ll eat at home. You probably won’t, your stomach is still all twisted from earlier, if he can tell you’re shaken up he doesn’t show it. He just nods.

Takes you to the corner of your street, wouldn’t be able to drive his truck down the narrow road. You thank him again, asking him if there’s anything you can do to repay him.

“I know’a few things you can do for me, bird.” He says lowly, you feel your cheeks warm at the implication. You ask him what he wants. He grunts, glancing to the side as if he’s thinking.

“Gimme a kiss.” He says, tapping his cheek. Your eyes widen, is he serious? Out of all things he could ask for, he asks for just a kiss on the cheek? You shocked to realize you’re disappointed he didn’t ask for more.

He pulls his mask down to his chin, revealing his chiseled jaw and thin, scarred lips. You lay a trembling hand on his giant thigh for support as you lean over, and just as you are about to meet his cheek he tilts his head and has your mouth. Pressing a heated kiss to your lips.

It takes you a moment to catch up, but before you know it you’re in his lap, making out sloppily, mouths open and tongues swirling together. You sigh into his mouth, cupping his jaw as his hand cradles the back of your head.

When you start grinding yourself against him is when he stops.

“Not yet, bird. Gotta take you out first, do it the right way.” He says. The right way? What the hell.

“Take ya for dinner, treat ya real good, take ya home and fuck that sweet pussy halfway to heaven.”

He cups your ass as he whispers that nasty shit in your ear, one hand on your hip as he bucks up once against your wet heat. You let out a whimper and he just chuckles. Asshole.

Jumps out the truck and helps you down with two strong hands on your hips. Walks you all the way to your front door, smiling at your peeved expression. You were definitely gonna have to rub one out once you got inside.

Gives you a sweet peck on the cheek, gripping your chin with his thumb and finger.

“Be here tomorrow a’ seven. Wear something nice.” He says softly before turning and stalking off into the night. Leaving you flabbergasted on your front doorstep.

Note: I dunno if you guys can tell but im incapable of writing anything small. This was supposed to be just a short little thing about how sexy trucker!simon would be but i got so carried away 😭 he’s the ghost that haunts my nights, can’t get him outta my head

Simon Riley master list

[cntloup]

Ex-Husband!Simon saves you angst, domestic violence

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

It doesn’t feel right. He knows you’re not alone. So he calls you again. 

“Hey. Is there someone in the house?” he asks as soon as you pick up. 

“No, Simon. Are you still at the door?” you ask timidly, keeping your voice low. 

“Yes. Because I didn’t get a clear answer. Why the fuck are you whispering? And whose truck is it?” he retorts, voice getting louder as his frustration grows. 

“It’s for a friend. I borrowed it for a few days to move some stuff.” you lie, holding back sobs.  

You desperately want to tell him. You want to scream at the top of your lungs for him to save you. 

“Who are you talking to?” an unfamiliar voice asks you angrily. 

“Wait! Who is that? Open the door right now or I will fucking break it!” Simon shouts through the phone. 

“Si, he’s gonna kill me...” you say shakily followed by a loud a scream, then the line dies. 

Within a millisecond, he starts kicking the door open... one... two... three... four kicks and the door comes off its hinges.

He follows the sound of your screams. 

Finally, he steps into the room and the moment his eyes land on the man (if one can even call him that) who has dared to not only lay a finger on you but is beating you up to the point of you passing out, he only sees red. 

Simon runs towards him, grabs him by the collar and throws him on the ground. 

He puts one foot on his chest and bends down to throw countless punches in his face while shouting insults at him. 

Simon only stops by the sound of your groaning and that’s when he realizes that he’s beaten him unconscious. 

He rushes to your side and lightly slaps your cheeks to keep you awake, noticing the blood on your head.

“Hey, dove. Stay with me, please. Keep talking to me, yeah?” he coos while delicately lifting you up in his strong arms and that’s when you finally feel safe after so long. 

“Simon, he’s a fucking monster. He wouldn’t stop beating me.” you sob in his chest, words slurred due to the numerous beatings you took to your head. 

“I’m here now, love. You're safe with me.” he says, bending down to carefully place you in the car seat. 

“Keep talking, love.” he remarks as he gets into the car. 

You continue explaining what happened as best as you can in your state in between groans and winces of pain while he drives you to the hospital.

And on the way, he calls Price to ask him to clean up the mess.

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 

[2tarbell]

MEAN SOMETHING — KOOK!READER

only one person knew how to handle your drunk best friend…

(drabble. © 2tarbell 2024)

you were going to end rafe cameron.

on the one night, the one night, you wanted some alone time and to be away from the boys, he decided to get sloppy drunk. of course, your other best friends have no idea how to take care of a drunk person and you honestly wondered how they even took care of themselves. which left you to slide on some slippers and drive over.

now as you stood before the front door in your victoria’s secret yoga pants and pink sweater, waiting for topper to answer it, you wonder why you let yourself get pulled into shit like this.

it’s rafe, that’s why. that’s always the reason why.

the door swings open to reveal a frazzled topper and kelce, you would’ve laughed at them if you weren’t so pissed. they took in your attire, the prissiness still evident even your pajamas. but you looked slightly disheveled, something they didn’t see often. both boys snorted at the sight of your bunny slippers but you quickly cut them off.

“say anything and i’ll chop your dicks off. where is he?” you seethed.

your tone brooked no argument and they both stepped aside to let you sashay in. kelce had his keys in hand as he mumbled something about rafe being ‘in his room’ and ‘on the floor’.

god was really testing you tonight.

you shooed them away, locking up the door behind them and stomping up the stairs. just praying he wasn’t choking on his own vomit or something.

the sight that greeted you literally made you pause and take out your phone, nails tapping the screen as you took a picture. rafe cameron, laying on his back and seemingly enthralled by the ceiling fan. it was genuinely amusing and kind of adorable. but the bottle of whiskey sitting next to him reminded you of your duty.

“rafe. sit up.”

his head snapped up at your voice, a boyish grin on his lips. he looked younger when he was drunk, stress and age having melted away.

“heeey, baby, whaddaya doin’ hereee?” he slurred, a low rumbly version of his voice.

you stepped closer, standing over him. hands on your hips as you looked down at him. his eyes were hardly open but you didn’t miss how they trailed down your figure.

“making sure you don’t die — get up.” the words were sharp in attempt to make him seriously listen.

he giggled and sighed, pushing up to rest on his elbows. the movement had his head spinning but he didn’t give a shit. just needed a better look at his pretty best friend.

“oh, y’know it turns me on when y’talk to me like that…”

you poked his side with your foot a bit harshly. patience wearing thin, you glared down at him.

“you’re such a pain in my ass—“

“mmm, love your ass,” he hummed but then groaned when you kicked him again, harder.

“rafe, i am so serious right now—“

with a childish huff of annoyance, he lifted himself off the ground but then immediately flopped face first on his bed. small victories, small victories.

you were happy to see dumb and dumber had enough brains to leave a water bottle with him. you grabbed it off the nightstand and perched at the edge of the bed next to the drunken 6’2 baby. a delicate hand rubbed his back; despite being annoyed at him for getting this drunk, you were still worried.

“hey, babe, c’mon — turn over. you need to drink some water…”

rafe unceremoniously flipped over, long legs dangling off the side of the bed. he sat up slowly and groaned at each movement. the room was nonstop spinning, so he decided to focus on one thing: your face. a smile worked its way onto his lips before he could stop himself.

you looked so beautiful, all worried and doting on him. blue eyes stared at your features (like he didn’t already have them committed to memory). the tent in his pant caught your eye and he watched as your eyes rolled. despite the memories of nights spent tangled up with him, you couldn’t believe the audacity he had.

“no way you’re seriously hard right now—“

“mmm, can’t control it around you.”

his smirk was frustrating you, in more ways than one. no, you wouldn’t do anything while he was this drunk. he knows that. yet he still tries to lean up and—

the water bottle presses to his lips, you trying to ease him into drinking and ignoring the bulge you’ve become all too familiar with. his betrayed expression made you snicker. this wasn’t the time to let fantasies run wild. kicking off your slippers and tucking your legs beneath you, you leaned closer.

“c’mon, rafe,” your voice was sweet, so sweet. he couldn’t do anything but take large gulps of water, trying to please you. he was a dumbass but you smiled at his eager approach.

“okay, okay — slow down before you jus’ throw it all up…” the giggle you let out settled right into his bones. rafe found himself wondering why you were just friends. he thought that a lot lately.

“go out with me.”

he definitely thought he sounded more debonair than he did. in reality, half of the words he spoke just flowed into each other. but he kept that low drawl that always sent you reeling. you couldn’t do this, couldn’t approach that territory. not now. you’d be happy if you never did.

“rafe—“ you tensed up.

“no, seriously. you’re— you’re gorgeous and y’put up with me. i mean, c’mon—“

the deep sting to your heart wasn’t something new. but it felt stronger this time, more painful. with a sigh, you set the water back down on his nightstand, brushing his hair back as he continues to rant.

“i think we get along great. y’know y’ten times better than— than any other chick i’ve been with— shit, any chick on the island—“

a bittersweet smile graced your lips. rafe noticed they were devoid of any pink or gloss. you really got out of bed just to come and take care of him? that’s gotta mean something.

“c’mon, doll face… gimme a reason y’shouldn’t.”

his words trailed off into contented hums when you started to scratch his scalp. boys are so easy. but boys aren’t rafe.

“i’m a bitch.” the resignation in your voice was telling. being a bitch, being called one wasn’t something new to you. these days you accepted the word with pride, reclaiming it in a sense. but you knew rafe, kook boys, and hell even pogue boys didn’t want a bitch. you were too much for most people.

the scoff he let out made you smile, cheeks dimpling and fingers twisting his hair. he shook his head with a frown and rested a large hand on your waist.

“nooo, y’not.” the words punctuated with a squeeze.

“i am—“

rafe reached up and cupped the back of your neck, silencing any chance to speak or protest. you know what that touch meant: ‘i’m talking now’.

“you’re beautiful. and— and smart and good.” his whispered words are drunken and mumbled. but you felt like your heart might explode, a heat pushing through your veins and replacing the blood with rafe.

rafe, rafe, rafe.

“best girl i know... yeah?” he urges, squeezing the back of your neck. your heart thumps faster at the pressure. you nod, because what else can you do when he speaks to you like that?

with a satisfied hum, he smiles. the action completely softens his face and it blows you away every time. you’re pressed closer, leaning over him, and he’s staring at you like he can’t believe you’re real.

“that’s my girl…”

you can’t tell who leans in first, but soon you’re locking lips with your best friend. something that shouldn’t be familiar and exhilarating as it is, but continues to be every single time. the kiss that you share is more gentle than you two have ever been with each other. in your complicated relationship, it was always hot and rough.

but this… this was slow and comforting. he tasted like whiskey and you let your lips part just slightly, a tentative lick of his tongue into the warmth of your mouth made you feel weak.

rafe was alight with want. he’d always wanted you. wanted to be in your presence. wanted to hear your voice. wanted to have you beneath him. wanted to be beneath you. he wanted it all. maybe it was the whiskey talking, but nothing had ever felt more right than when your hand cupped his cheek and your lips where on his.

“you should sleep…” your voice was hardly recognizable, soft and hesitant against his lips. he didn’t have to to ask, you knew he wanted you to stay. and you know you couldn’t have left if you wanted to.

so, you let him wrap his arms around you and nestled into his neck. and when he starts to snore like he always denies he does, you felt like things might be okay. despite it all, he was gonna be your rafe.

[teaboot]

OH FUCK YALL THOUGHT I WAS *ARMED GUARD*????

BRUHHHHHHHH

I'm the lowest level licensed security you can hire

I work foot patrol for shit like wet cement, construction sites, malls, libraries, outreach centers, and local events

My job is, essentially, human scarecrow

I am not permitted to carry a gun.

I am not permitted to carry a taser.

I am not permitted to carry pepper spray.

I am not permitted to carry a baton

I am not permitted to carry a knife or any multitool containing a knife

I don't have a plate vest

I'm not permitted to make any physical contact outside of administering first aid or in self defense, which must be made in minimal force required to ensure personal safety

I escort employees to make bank deposits, ask aggressive or violent people to leave, and take notes on safety hazards in patrolled areas

If someone bleeds, throws up, or takes a dump somewhere they shouldn't, it's between me and the custodian to make sure nobody slips in it bay bee

It is none of my business if someone is doing drugs. If they aren't an active danger to themselves or others then they're golden

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

If you're selling drugs in clear view I will ask that you please do that elsewhere, ideally with more discretion. End of interaction

If you are using drugs in clear view I will tell you *exactly* where the property ends so you can smoke your bong 3 feet outside of that line where I can't do shit if someone complains. End of interaction

Site Security is not police. It is not LPO. Someone could point you out as you run off the site and say "I saw him shove a microwave down his pants and walk out" and it would be approximately none of my business.

THINGS THAT ARE MY BUSINESS

Overdose in the bathroom. I will verbally check twice that you are conscious, and if I get no response I will warn that I am coming in to check on you. If I find you on the ground I will again try to speak to you, warn that I am touching your shoulder, and give you a jiggle. If I can't wake you up I roll you into recovery and wait for paramedics.

Threatening or harassing staff. You cannot make passes at the highschooler operating the pretzel stand. You cannot tell the bank teller you'll "track him down eventually". The lady at the nail salon said she didn't want to marry you six times now and now I'm your problem

Abuse, endangerment, or neglect. If you leave your baby on the sidewalk so you can shop by yourself then I will be the jerk who ruins your day. If you hit your kid I will become very much your problem. If you locked your dog in the car with the windows rolled up six hours ago and it isn't getting up when I tap the window I'm gonna be the biggest pain in the ass you'll see all day

Safety hazards. Don't shoot off a bottle rocket in the parking lot. Yes it's very cool and you probably won't hit anything important but there's a pretty big empty lot like six blocks away man, what if you nail a kid or something. If you wanna take your bearded dragon to the food court, keep him in your coat or in a carrier. Climb the telephone pole on Tuesday because thats my day off

Client complaints/concerns. Boss says you've been here living in your car for three days and it's time to move on. You and I know it's been a month but between us if you switch locations every couple days around the lot she won't catch you again till at least May. As long as you don't leave a bunch of trash laying out we're good.

END NOTES

If you have tattoos on your face, throat, or hands and you wanna pull something you gotta be so incredibly discrete, is so incredibly easy for Law Enforcement to track you down you have no idea. I know like 3 guys with face tattoos in town, one of them's been my buddy since highschool and the other 2 were introduced to me like "watch out for a guy with a star on his cheek, his name is Patrick Sturblish, he's 43 years old and I saw him pocket a redbull once".

Always assume someone is operating the cameras live.

The courts are so insanely overwhelmed all the time, if you nab something small and vital like bandages, tampons, underwear, whatever and don't have a long list of priors usually even a cop won't bother trying to charge you. If I can't tell you not to steal for the consequences then at least don't get cocky about it

In my own experience if you walk into a big store and straight up tell someone "I don't want to steal but I need this very badly" then usually someone will find a way to get it to you

If someone tells me you're stealing on camera I will let you know that someone caught you and it's your last chance to put stuff back before they do something

If you pull a weapon on me or someone else while I'm working then I'm required to inform police so please don't do that thank you

[rninies]

✮ pampering a giant baby - gojo satoru

synopsis: gojo satoru rarely gets sick, but when he does, he acts like a child (you don't mind that because when will you ever get the chance of taking care of gojo?)

warnings: sick gojo, fluff, gn!reader, gojo is stubborn (hates being taken care of) — wc: 528

notes: IM BACK YEAHHHHHHH im almost finished with my finals so here we are :3

“y/n, please leave.” satoru blocks the door with his tall figure, leaving you unable to enter his apartment. “i’m begging you.”

you huff, standing your ground. “i am not leaving until you let me take care of you. you’re sick, toru! your body is heating up as we speak.”

“i’m fine-” satoru lets out a cough. “seriously, just go home! i can take care of myself.” as soon as he says that, he sneezes, knees feeling weak. you quickly catch him before he falls.

“‘i’m fine’ my ass. come on, let me take care of you for once.” you mumble, helping satoru inside. you gently lay him on the couch, to which he instantly rests his head on the pillows. “i’ll go make you some porridge, yeah?”

satoru nods, too weak to speak. you instantly got to work, cooking up a porridge as quietly as possible to not disturb his rest. as soon as you finished making the porridge, you brought it over to satoru, gently waking him up. “toru, wake up. you need to eat.”

satoru reluctantly opens his eyes. “can i eat later? i feel sick.”

“you have to eat now so then you can drink some medicine. after that i promise you i’ll let you sleep as much as you want.” you softly say, helping satoru sit up. “just eat a few bites and i’ll be happy.” you hold the spoon full of warm porridge in front of him and he opens his mouth, just wide enough to eat.

after a few bites, satoru mumbles about how full he feels and you stop, quickly grabbing medicine from the drawer and a cup of water. “here. drink this and you’ll feel better.” satoru drank the medicine and you smiled. “there.”

instead of laying back down on the pillow, he lays his head on your lap. “sorry.”

you tilt your head in confusion. “hm? what are you sorry for?”

“don’t know… just feels annoying being sick.” satoru mumbles, hiding his face in your shirt. “i hate feeling like this.”

“mm, i know, baby. everyone has their sick days. you know how it is.” you say, gently caressing his head. “i don’t mind taking care of you for once, though. it’s a good change. i like it.”

“i should be taking care of you, not the other way around.” satoru complains, finally meeting your eyes. “it’s like- i don’t know. it feels weird.”

“hey, don’t feel bad. i like taking care of you, don’t worry.” you leaned down and gave satoru a quick kiss on the lips, to which he immediately covered his lips. “what?”

“i’m sick! you can’t just kiss me! what if you get sick too?” satoru’s voice is muffled behind his hands. “i don’t want you to get sick too.”

you smiled. “i won’t. trust me. now you go back to sleep and you’ll feel better in the morning because my porridge has magical healing powers.”

satoru laughs and closes his eyes, quickly falling back to sleep.

(the next day, you were woken up by a scratchy throat and blocked nose — to which satoru was delighted because he can finally take care of you).

[astrasng]

SCRATCH || BANGCHAN

MINORS DNI!

pairing: idol!chan x female!reader

summary: thanks to chan's solo stage you finally made him yours.

warnings: blood (from scratches obv), handjob, spanking, petnames (baby, honey, angel, sweetheart) unprotected sex, cursing

author's note: from my previous breakdown post bc of chan got me in an inspired mood so i made a little somethin somethin. still what the fuck was he thinking. also, if you're a regular reader by any chance (ily) you might have noticed i write jealousy tropes, IDKK WHY THO SORRY

important!: this is pure fiction, the act in this story is by my imagination and not based off true events. please do not copy the work.

enjoy!

It isn’t like you’re not supportive of your boyfriend. You’ve always been there for every idea, even if you thought that it wasn’t the best one. The things you have to deal with him being an idol settled deep into your mind, already accepting the consequences that may come in the way. But it’s not like you would ever give up your relationship with Chan just because he’s doing risky things that you may not like. 

To be honest, it kind of became an advantage for you. 

You would watch him having fun on stage with the other members, sometimes splashing water at each other, making everyone in the crowd either cheer or laugh at their silly behavior. There were times when they got sentimental, wishing all the happiness for STAY and the members for the future. It made you emotional just in the same way as you would watch them through the TV in your shared apartment. 

And then there were times where you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together and wait for him.

“Had fun today?” 

The sarcastic tone caught Chan’s attention as he’s doing his everyday night routine, just as he’s finishing up his shaving session. He knows exactly why you’re talking and reacting to him this way, you’ve been all fidgety with him since he got home from the first day of the tour, and when he stepped inside the apartment he saw you still sitting on the couch, not welcoming him in with the usual hug he gets. 

Chan looks a little bit to the side so he can get a reflection of you changing in the room, the towel you used laying on the ground after taking a shower. Without him. 

“Of course.It’s always heartwarming to meet with STAY’s. And the kids were so hyped about getting solo stages too.”

Now that just boils your blood. 

“Oh, were they?” You keep your back facing him,not letting him see how frustrated you really are about the game he’s playing. “They were doing an amazing job indeed.” You shut your eyes momentarily before putting on your velvet nightgown, and slowly walking towards the bathroom where your boyfriend is staying. 

“Yeah, I assume you saw mine too, right? Did you see the special makeup they did on me?” With pride he chuckles while putting away his shaving equipment, patting his dry as he picks up his toothbrush. His question should have a very easy and simple answer, yet here you are ready to give him a brainwash about not caring about your mental health. Cause what the hell was that? You can’t even form the offensive words you want to say to him out of frustration, you could never say anything negative about his performances in general — but the way he’s talking about it, so full of himself, you can’t help yourself. “I wonder who made all that.” It slips out, biting down on your lip softly to stop yourself from further embarrassment. 

“It must’ve been the makeup artist of course, but I could’ve done a better job if you ask me.” You step into the bathroom just as you finish your sentence, Chan unable to answer due to his mouth full with mint scented bubbles. 

As you want to pass behind him, you swipe your delicate fingers on his defined back muscles, the photos of him painted in scratches for the performance fills your vision. 

“Makeup was unnecessary,to be honest.” 

There’s something glinting in Chan’s eyes as a lopsided smile appears on his face, looking at you through the mirror placed above the bathroom counter. As the words leave your lips, he licks his plump lips slowly, putting away his toothbrush he just used. “If I had asked you, would you do it?” 

The air stops suddenly in your throat,taking your eyes off of him as you busy yourself with something else infront of you. “Well…it doesn’t matter now.” 

“Oh it does, honey.” Chan says lowly, his voice suddenly closer as you want it to, and you know perfectly he’s only a step away from you. “If I only knew my baby just wanted to help me out in my solo,” He snakes his arms around your waist slowly, his bare chest pressing into your clothed back as he’s standing behind you, whispering in your ear. “I could’ve used some help.” With that, he pressed a slow open mouth kiss on the side of your neck. his hands caressing the skin on your stomach. 

“Should we recreate it and show it to my makeup artist?”

Chan whispers against your ear, biting down slightly on your earlobe as he makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You look already disheveled just from his touch, your nightgown scrunched slightly up as he kneads your stomach, one of his hands slowly inching up to your breasts. “Would you like that, baby?” 

“I didn’t mean it like that, Chan – mhphm…” A small moan leaves your lips as he pinches your nipple in his slender fingers, continuing to make out with your neck as you try and compose yourself. 

“How did you mean it then?” He grunts out as you push your backside on his crotch, his cock twitching already in his sleeping pants at the thought of you being jealous. “Tell me.” 

“I–I just…” You try to form words, keeping yourself together and not yet falling for his words but then Chan sneakily slides his other down towards your waiting heat, his finger immediately meeting with slickness between your pussy lips. He groans again, grinding into your ass to ease the pain from being so hard. “Baby, if you want to scratch my back that badly just say it.” There’s something hiding behind his words which makes you shut your eyes from the pleasure he’s causing, your hands flying on the counter for support. “I kind of…wanted to..” Your breath hitches, cutting off your sentence when Chan flips your nightgown upwards to expose your wet pussy, your naked ass on display in front of him as he takes his hand away from your breast and caresses one of your cheeks. “You wanted what? Do you need some help darling?” He grunts under his breath when he feels you clench around his fingers, plugging it in and out to take your breath away. You moan out when you feel his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your back arch. 

But Chan doesn’t give in that easily. 

You suddenly feel a stinging pain on one of your cheeks, moaning out shamelessly from the sensation he just caused with his hand. When you pick your head up you see Chan already looking at you through the mirror, lust filled eyes raking over your already fucked out face. “Say it baby.” 

You can feel his hand smoothing over the place he just spanked, the air in the bathroom so humid you can feel yourself getting sweaty again. His finger never stopped working inside you, with that spank almost knocking you over the edge. 

When Chan doesn’t see you changing your mind and aófinally answers him, he only clicks his tongue and tilts his head to the side. Without a second thought, he slaps your ass again, his finger circling around your clit rapidly when he hears your pornographic moans echoing in the bathroom.

“I–I wanted to mark you!” 

And there it is. 

As you practically moan out the words, Chan’s finger is coated thickly with your cum as his words made you tip over the edge. Your whole body shaking in his arms as you come down your high slowly, trying to gather your thoughts and realizing what you just said.

When the words finally leave your mouth he can’t help but smirk, the possessive side of you finally showing for the first time in your relationship. “And why is that honey?” Chan teases you, seeing your ears red from the sudden confession you just made. 

“Just so everyone knows that you’re mine..” You mumble quietly, shame overcoming you as it paints your cheeks deep red. 

Something snaps inside Chan. He can’t help but groan out, his cock painfully hard against his pants as he turns you around and places his hands on your throat, slightly adding pressure on it. Before you know it, you’re pressed up against the wall, his lips already chasing yours. 

“Do it baby.” He kisses you, his tongue sneaks through his lips to taste your lip balm you applied earlier he loves so much. “I want you to do your worst on me,” He whispers between kisses, his hand suddenly picking you up to put your legs around his waist. Your whole body welcomes him, your mouth opens as he slides his tongue inside once again, and your fingers landing into his freshly washed hair as he devours your lips. His hand scrunches up your gown once again before he presses his hardness into your slick core. 

At the contact you moan out loudly, already wanting him inside you, to ease your pain that he caused. 

“Feel that baby? It’s all yours. Nobody else has that but you.” 

With a whine you throw your head on the wall, Chan’s lips continuing to leaves red splotches on your sensitive skin as he takes his hand and pushes down his boxers, hissing out the minute the air hits his precum covered cock, tip red from all the waiting and veins bulging with excitement. 

He drags his wet tip over your puffy lips, spreading them open more to make room for himself when he circles around your clit. As he slides his length between your folds, you feel all emotions gather up inside you, the feeling too hazy as your vision becomes blurry from the need. “Channie,,please..” 

“‘s okay baby,I’ll give it to you.” He chants when he finally pushes his tip inside you, groaning out from you uncontrollably clenching around his cock when he nearly settles halfway in. “You have to relax,angel. You make it impossible for me to–”

“Chan — I’m so sorry, I–” He hears you gasp out, your body all tensed up, your eyes wide open as you look into the mirror across you. He looks swiftly behind him to see your naked bodies melted into one, and then it catches his eye. 

With one thrust he settles fully inside you, moaning from how incredibly tight you are around his length, keeping himself back to not buckle into you rapidly. He puts his hand on your chin, making you look into his eyes and not on his blood covered back. “I asked you to do this, right?” With a softened gaze, he makes sure you understand what he’s saying, not taking his eyes off of you until he sees your lust filled expression again instead of worry ones. “Right baby?”

“Y-yes..” You gulp when you see your fingers slightly covered in red around his neck. “But I didn’t want to-”

“It’s fucking hot.” He hisses, his voice whinier than usual as he puts his forehead on your chest, his hips starting to move. “You did such a great job sweetheart.” He pulls completely out before thrusting into you again, this time harsher as he hears your cries next to his ears. 

When you take another look in the mirror, you see what you just caused. The moment you felt his cock hitting you so deeply you couldn't help but deepen your nails into his skin on his broad back, now covered with blood here and there. It softly dribbles down his defined muscles, and Chan is right. It is fucking hot. 

So you clench around him again when you feel his fingers circling around your clit, his cock hitting the perfect spot as he moans out your name. “Do it again.” He demands, his hand flying on the wall next to your head to thrust up harder into you, making you roll your eyes. As you see Chan so deeply in emotions you scratch his back again, now only deep redness showing on his pale skin. 

The pain on his skin makes him inch closer to his release. The jerks of his hips, slamming against your hips are quickening, becoming more erratic, intense and desperate. You cry out his name nonstop, feeling him twitching inside you. 

“Give it to me.” He’s breathless as he chants into the side of your neck. “I need you to come around my cock baby.” 

His demand tips you over the edge again, moaning out his name as you feel him curl against you, his shoulders on display for you to see what you painted on his back. His grunts are vibrating through your body, the pain melting into pleasure as he paints your insides with his thick cum, feeling so full of him, feeling him everywhere. Chan bites down softly on your skin,kissing the pain away quickly as you both come down from this high. 

You are his. He made sure a long time ago, but now, you made sure he was yours too as you watch the crimson red blood slowly sliding down his back, gathering it on your fingers.

“It took a solo stage for you to claim me as yours?” Chan asks when he softly puts you down on the bathroom counter, a bright smile painting his face once again.

like and reblog is much appreciated! ♡

divider by:@enchanthings

[senseichaos]

"PATHETIC"

SUMMARY: Don't go into Alastor's studio if he's on air. It was that simple. But sometimes you like to be bad. (In which Alastor broadcasts your moans live as a punishment)

GENRE: PWP, Smut, small amount of angst, a lil fluff

WARNINGS: Psychopathic Alastor, sadism, masochism, bratty reader, unprotected sex (don't!), collar, handcuffs, chains, degradation, exhibitionism, implied aftercare, humiliation, finger sucking, dub-con/non-con depending on how you see it, orgasm denial, leash, praise, let me know if there are any more!

PART 2 (aftercare)

NOT PROOF READ (YET)

____

Don't go into Alastor's studio if he's on air, it was that simple.

But you do it anyway. Out of pure bratty desires you defy Alastor because.. why not? What's the worst that could happen? Actually.. there is a lot of 'worst' that could in fact happen but I mean, he's not all bad.. is he?

With a small grin on your face you lay your hand against the door swiftly, knocking loudly to make sure you are alerting Alastor of a visitor. The anxiety you feel when you do this is far too real, from the clammy fingers to the feeling that this whole idea is a horrible mistake. You almost feel as if you could fall to the floor beneath you.

Yet it's so exhilarating.

"I'm afraid I'm busy!" You hear Alastor holler from beyond the door, his slightly fake kind tone obvious. He hates it when people interrupt his work. You almost giggle, feeling an odd nervous giddiness going through yourself at the prospect of opening this door.

With a sharp intake of breath, you swing open the door and close it softly behind yourself. Though behind him you can see Alastor pinch the space between his eyebrows with an annoyed smile.

He turns his head to look over at you, giving you an annoyed smile that makes you bite your lower lip.

"What is it you need, dear?" Alastor asks, adjusting one of the nobs on the recording equipment in front of him. "I am very sure I said I was busy," He sighs, looking over at you again with even more annoyance visible on his face.

"I just wanted to hangout,"

Alastor stands, horns growing with his annoyance as he takes a warning step towards you. You take a meek step back and gulp down a nervous glob of saliva.

"So you come into my studio, interrupting my broadcast-" he turns shifts into his full demon form as he moves towards you, until his face is completely in front of your face. An angry smile on his features. "All because you wanted to hang out?" He pulls you closer by a metal collar of his energy, his nose against your own as his hand clutch tightly onto the chain.

"What a bad pet you are.." He says darkly, pulling you harshly so you choke and fall to the ground on your hands and knees. For a couple moments he just pulls you with the leash, walking you towards the chair until he sits on it. He swivels it around to look at you, your own large and nervous ones looking into his.

He pushes your head up to look straight at him by the toe of his shoe, the coldness making your skin burn. You can't help but lean even closer towards him, so the toe of his show just barely digs into the skin there.

"Fawn, you were just here for my attention, weren't you?"

You consider lying to him, making yourself out to be more of a brat and possibly get a worse outcome than you're already gonna get.. but from the position you're in it's probably a bad idea. So with a sharp gulp and a blush across your cheeks you nod, biting your lower lip. Alastor grins, leaning down and taking his foot from your chin.

His gaze is rather soft, almost adoring as he tugs you closer by your chain leash. Slowly and intimately he pushes his thumb into your mouth, pointing finger making you look into his lidded eyes. With a burst of passion you suck onto his thumb, swirling your tongue against the red claw as he watches with amused eyes.

"My lovely fawn, perhaps you just need to be reminded who owns you," He purrs, pulling his thumb from your mouth (much to your dismay). With a sharp motion Alastor tangles his fingers into your hair, manhandling you face first into his desk so your ass faces him. You cry out at this movement, the roughness of his movements contrasting wildly to the care he gave you just moments before.

"Lovely. I'm afraid this punishment is not going to be pleasant, but you must learn from your mistakes," Alastor sighs, and with a swift motion of his hands bounding your wrists with cuffs of his magic. He keeps them bound onto the table so you are unable to move, causing a pain to go through your wrists when you flinch at Alastor's movements. Roughly, he pulls down your skirt and discards it across the room, leaving you bare besides from your thin pink panties.

"What a pretty color, they must be a favorite pair of yours.." you blush, trying to tilt your head to see him behind you; only for the collar to keep you from doing so. You feel his claws drag up the sides of your thighs until they meet the fabric of your panties, clawing rather dangerously at it.

"Yeah, i-i wore them for you.." You whimper with a stutter, wiggling your but at him to appear enticing. He chuckles, hooking his pointer fingers into your panties at each side.

"How lovely,"

With a harsh pull, he rips either side of your panties in half. You gasp at this, trying to stand up only for the cuffs around your hands and the collar around your neck to tighten. This causes you to bruise and cry out in pain.

"Alastor! I liked that pair.." You complain, kicking your legs in a sort of tantrum that Alastor tuts. With a sudden thrash Alastor aggressively pulls at your chain leash, making your head move up with a strain that is horribly painful.

"Bad fawns don't get treated with propriety, my dear," Alastor explains, twisting his hand so the chain slowly wraps around his hand. You can see his shadow loom closer and closer over your own figure.

"And bad fawns especially don't get any foreplay.."

What? No foreplay? He can't be serious..

Let's just say.. Alastor is rather large in the nether regions. And he knows this. Every single time you've ever fornicated he'd always done foreplay- just to open you up enough that you wouldn't be in horrid paid every time he stuck his cock in you. You can already feel the pain inside of you and he hasn't even pushed his tip to you.

"Alastor, no- I can't.."

"Don't forget my fawn.." He hooks his fingers into your hair again, forcing you to tilt your head as he whispers into your ear. His horns are larger than earlier, and his entire build in general is a lot more.. demonic.

"You wanted this.."

You don't want this anymore.

Tantalizing slow, Alastor drags his claws up your spine, taking in every shiver and whimper that you give him in turn. How dominating he feels, it's like nothing else to him he can tear as many people's souls to shreds but nothing will be the same as fucking you to pliancy. He can do horrid things to you, and you still come back for more.

He loves that in you, in his own way.

You feel his tip just barely twitch against your entrance, one hand holding your chain and his staff whilst the other presses harshly against your thigh. Wait. Why is he holding his staff.. that doesn't make any sense unless-

Fuck. He can't be serious, can he?

"Salutations dear listeners, ever so sorry for my break. But I have a treat just for you!" He says, his voice strong with the confidence of a person who has done this millions of times before. Shivering you let out a small whimper, he's really going to do this, isn't he? He's going to fuck you on air. You want to disappear. This is humiliating! This is.. humiliating. He can't be serious! You though he was better than this..

Shows you to think more of the radio demon.

In a swift movement you scream out, Alastor's entire length being shoved into you with a single thrust. You see stars of red, the area around you glowing a green that makes your head just slightly throb in pain. With another harsh thrust Alastor pulls in your leash, forcing you to look out the window.

He leans down and growls condescendingly.

"Watch the entirety of the pride ring as they hear me break you," he says and you cry out. He is. He is breaking you from the inside out, you can feel every thrust of his cock through your entire body with a painful wave. You can hardly see anymore. Everything is blurred with a wall of tears that fall down your cheeks.

"Fuck!" You cry in a distressful pleasure. You hate that this feels good. Why do you want him to break you? Why do you want him to fuck you from the inside out until all you can do is sit there and listen to him speak. You hate that you love this.

"That's it, little fawn. Let me break your whorish body.." He laughs, the hold on your chain leash making you lose a very small amount of air. You try to clutch at something, anything to ground you, but all you can feel is the warm chains bounding you to the desk beneath you, the chains bounding you to this terrible pleasure.

You can't describe it. Every thrust of his cock makes you moan, in an ashamed yet purely entangled tone. You can hear the passion in your voice as Alastor digs his claws so hard into you you bleed. Yet you can definitely hear the pain in your voice when the tip of his cock just barely hits your cervix.

"Such a pathetic thing, letting me take you like this.. you didn't even put up a fight,"

You see red, a weird loving anger.

"I fucking HATE you.."

Alastor laughs, and you can practically smell that shit-eating grin on his face.

"No," he thrusts "You," he thrusts "Dont~" he thrusts, punctuating his words and his teasing tone. You claw at the chains, wishing to rip their bounds so you can spit in his stupid beautiful face. Fuck. You can't stop this pleasure.

With every thrust comes another build of an orgasm inside of you, every thrust making that knot pull tighter and tighter. He isn't even doing anything to pleasure you, either- you just love this in a way you can't describe.

"Don't orgasm without my permission, dear," Alastor cackles, biting his lower lip "Or else..!" He teases, giving you a particularly harsh thrust as to solidify his words. You nod softly with a whimper, your neck aching from the way he's handling your leash.

You clench particularly hard, feeling that orgasm begging to be released.

"Alastor! Please let me cum.." You whimper, biting your lower lip as it trembles very slightly. He hums for a moment, as if to mock your display of obedience before clicking his tongue and leaning down.

"Beg for it," he says simply, thrusting even quicker making the urgency inside of you real. Crying, you babble for a moment, the pleasure inside of you becoming to much.

"Fuck! Please let me cum, I'll do anything, I'll listen to everything you say, please! Please..." You don't think you've felt more desperate your whole entire time in hell, which is even more pathetic, really. The most desperate you've felt isn't for your life, money, or soul. It's to come on the cock of a psychopathic sadist.

"Lovely. Come for me, my dear,"

You let go with an obnoxious wail, walls clenching around Alastor so tightly you could have sworn he grunted. It's like your whole body let go, your legs give out, your shoulders relax, and your eyes roll back.

"Good fawn, how good,"

With one last thrust, Alastor buries his cock deeply inside of you, emptying his seed to the point where your stomach begins to bloat. One thing you've learnt about Alastor, when he cums, he cums a lot.

"Now then," Alastor declares after a short moment, pulling his cock from your hole and stuffing it back into his pants. "Let's get you cleaned up!" Alastor says brightly, clicking his fingers so the bounds on your neck and hands release. Though this only makes your centre of gravity shift in such a way you almost fall to the ground, if it weren't for Alastor catching you and holding you bridal style. Holding you. This is a rare occurrence indeed.

"Thank you dear listeners and I'll see you next time! Perhaps you may even get another treat, Ha ha!"

Alastor turns back to you, looking at you deep in the eyes as his sclera turn a deep black.

"Will they, my dear..?"

You gulp, shrinking in his arms.

"No, Alastor,"

He turns back to normal, giving you an adoring look as he twirls on his foot, taking you from the room.

"Lovely, now let's get a bath running!"