#and my hands keep going in the wrong spots lmao

[imwritesometimes]

greetings from my new, non shitty laptop ✌️

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Beginning to really wonder how much of my financial concern is manufactured and handed to me as opposed to something I'm genuinely concerned by

[gyusrose]

➵ you’re so vain -> l.hs

⚠︎ smut (mdni)

✎ jock!heeseung x reader, enemies to ?????, heeseung is rlly annoying, hate sex ;), hair pulling, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation, backshots lmao. i think that’s it?

summary: attending a new school was supposed to be a fresh start for you, trying to be nice to everyone and have new friends, yet coming across lee heeseung threw all of that out the window.

(heeseung x fem.reader)

wc: 3.2k

your sweaty hands could not be gripping the steering wheel any harder. you wouldn’t call yourself “super shy” but when it comes to a whole new community of people, teenagers, hell yeah you are.

you had to move exactly at the middle of the year due to your mom’s work. they offered her double the salary at the other side of the city, who was she to say no to that? although you were going to miss your friends and the overall environment of your old home, you couldn’t just tell your mom ‘no’, either way her decisions are final.

you just got here two days ago, and to be honest, it wasn’t that bad. the worst thing so far is the fact that the nearest shopping center was 30 minutes away but you’ll live.

you didn’t except your first day of school to be so nerve-wracking. surely you’ll make some friends but who knows what people are like here. eventually, you saw the big navy blue sign with your school’s name on it. it was an averagely big school, bigger than your old one, which also meant more people.

the parking space alone was scary. it was huge yet already full even though it was still fairly early. you went around in circles around the parking lot, trying to find a vacant spot. fortunately you did at the second-to-last line.

as you tried to park, the limited space you had made it difficult to, having to back up and drive in constantly. as you reversed your car, you must have completely forgotten that you aren’t the only one there, feeling a small crash at the bumper of your car.

your eyes widened in panic. you looked back to see what you hit, and with your luck, it revealed at very nice black car, to which you’ve just hit. you tried to quickly get into your parking spot, hoping it was nothing serious, but then someone came walking up to you.

‘shit, that must be the owner’ you saw his red, rather handsome, fuming face.

you got out of your car to confront the first person interaction.

“hey look im so-“

“CANT YOU FUCKING DRIVE RIGHT? YOU HIT MY VERY EXPENSIVE CAR WITH YOUR THING, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”

oh he was an asshole. you almost scoffed in his face. who does he think he is.

“it was accident that’s all, it was barely a scratch calm down man.”

“IT WAS DEFINITELY A SCRATCH LOOK AT IT! JUST BECAUSE YOU KEEP YOUR CAR LOOKING ALL MISERABLE DOESNT MEAN I WILL, DO YOU EVEN HAVE A LICENSE?”

lord take me back. you were so close to just leaving him there arguing with himself. but you didn’t want to make him even angrier.

“look im sorry! i can pay for the fix up if that’s what you want, i dont know what else to do?”

the boy scoffed and rolled his eyes at your statement.

“you think i don’t have the money for it? please, it shows you’re a newbie around here.”

“i didn’t mean it like that-“

“yo heeseung!! come on bro!” another blonde boy called from afar, hopefully ending the argument y’all were having.

“ watch your back new girl.” with one last glare, he left to join his group of friends.

you rolled your eyes. shiver my fucking timbers, you thought.

you took a deep breath before grabbing your backpack and making your way into school , hoping to never see his face ever again.

>>

you thought that was going to be the end of it all. but oh boy were you wrong. soon you found out that heeseung is the captain of the football team, and pretty much the most popular boy in school. as cliche as it sounds, every girl would drop their panties if he asked them to.

people know he’s not the nicest person ( an asshole) yet they still look up to him. that’s angered you. how are all these people so dumb? just because he’s kinda good-looking? seriously?

over the course of a few weeks, you’ve managed to make some friends, your closest taehyun and Isa. although you tried to block the negativity, heeseung made it really hard. always giving you snarky comments when he saw you around, ridiculing you in front of other people. somehow always finding a way to run into you despite not having any classes together. except gym.

“ bro open your eyes, catch the damn ball!” he yelled from across from you.

you hated sports. even less could you play one, but you gotta do it for the grade.

“the ball was too high up dummy!” you retorted, rolling your eyes for maybe the 100th time in the class period.

if you hated gym before, you definitely hated it more now.

as the period ended, you decided to take a quick shower in the locker rooms since you couldn’t handle being all sweaty and gross throughout the day.

heeseung finished changing and was outside the locker room with his friends, chatting, waiting for the bell to ring. that’s when he may have accidentally eavesdropped the conversation between your two friends, he could barely the names of.

“where’s _____?” taehyun asked isa, noticing how you weren’t with her.

“she’s taking a shower right now, she told us to not wait for her.” Isa shrugged before taehyun nodded.

a beautiful idea popped in heeseung’s brain. it was too good.

he excused himself and sneakily waited by the girl’s locker room, waiting for everyone to come out. once he only heard the shower you were using running, he quietly entered the room. the bell had rang about a minute ago, so the gym was empty, only you and him. the gym teacher god knows where.

he saw his target and rapidly grabbed the pile of clothes sitting on the bench, a smirk evident in his face.

suddenly the shower stopped running, making heeseung hurry and exit the locker room.

the shower felt too good, you think you spent more time that you anticipated to. as you exited the shower tiles, you looked around for your clothes, which you remember clearly leaving them in the bench closest to the shower. you looked around the whole locker room, hoping you were wrong and placed them elsewhere. unfortunately, you couldn’t even find your damn socks.

your biggest fear has come true. you’re now naked, nothing but a towel covering you, this was more than just humiliating. you felt sad, mad, angry, embarrassed all at once. they’ve been stolen for sure, and you were more than sure on who did it.

grabbing your phone you called Isa, to see if she could help you somehow. and she indeed did. bringing you some spare clothes she had. thankfully, you always bring extra underwear since situations like these could happen. you just had to wait for isa for the clothes, yet the five minutes she took felt like five hours. unfortunately, passing period is over, meaning some students are coming in the locker room to change.

many of them just straight up stared at you. giving you weird looks as to why you were pretty much naked in the middle of the locker room, but none had the guts to ask you.

you wished the ground would just swallow you whole. lee heeseung won’t hear the end of it.

“LEE HEESEUNG!” you yelled across the field. he and his friends were siting down eating lunch outside when you spotted him after trying to find him after the stunt he just pulled.

heeseung knew it was coming, giggling with his friends as they heard you yell his name once again. “ oh she’s about to scold me now .” heeseung scoffed but still got up and went over to you.

“yes ma’am?” he said with a smile, you wish you could slap off but you’re better than that.

“YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID DO YOU KNOW HOW EMBARRASSING THAT WAS?”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about..” heeseung tried acting innocent but failed as he just burst out laughing. you groaned, how on earth is that funny?

“cute panties by the way” he continued to laugh, not sparing a glance at your mad expression on your face.

“you’re such an ass, i hate your guts.” you said leaving him alone, laughing to himself.

“yo bro i think she actually got mad this time.” his friend, jake came over.

heeseung shrugged. “she’s so sensitive, it wasn’t even that bad.”

“i can’t believe he did that…” taehyun said as you told them both what had happened. Isa knew a little bit but not who did it.

“that’s fucked up, what’s he got against you so much?”

you shrugged. “i guess because i gave his car a little scratch, but i guess he took it to heart since he hasn’t stopped bothering me since. he’s a jerk.”

“finally someone who thinks the same as me!” taehyun said making you chuckle.

“then get back at him! you know the one thing that makes him who he is is that damn football.” Isa said.

you tried to be the bigger person this whole time, not paying much mind to his little remarks or pranks he pulls, biting back a little wouldn’t hurt right?

“you know what, you’re right.”

“lee heeseung, mrs. park wants to speak to you.” mr.jung said calling heeseung.

heeseung who was barely paying attention heard his name. his frowned at this. what on earth could she want to talk about with him? either way, he went to her classroom.

he entered the empty classroom to find his coach and mrs.park, waiting for him. what the fuck? heeseung was more confused now. maybe they were going to congratulate him for the good work this semester? his coach’s face said otherwise though.

“there you are, you may be wondering why you’re here..” mrs.park started. heeseung nodded, feeling uneasy.

“a student came forward, showing how you copied word for word her whole assignment, the one i assigned a week ago. i didn’t notice it at first but it’s very clear now, you may know how cheating is unacceptable in my class, i’ve decided to fail you in this assignment, plus you’ll be serving detention this whole week..” she turned to the coach.

heeseung’s heart started beating at a rapid pace, he’s never been caught cheating, and being failed on the assignment that was a big part of his grade, it means he’s most likely failing the class now. the rules for football stated that all players should be passing all of their classes if not, they’ll be dropped….

no no no, the lee heeseung can’t be dropped. he’s the captain! the star player!

“since you’re failing this class heeseung, i think you know what’s about to happe-“

“please coach! don’t kick me out, i’m the captain! what would the team do without me? i’ll get my grade up as soon as possible im-“

“calm down calm down, i’m not going to kick you out, it’s the middle of the season, but unfortunately you won’t be playing the next three games. if your grade is not up by then, then i will drop you. understood?” his coach stated earning a sharp nod by heeseung.

he’s glad he’s still on the team but what’s the point if he can’t play? he’s going to become a joke. the captain that’s a bench warmer. how stupid.

he left the classroom enraged. he knows exactly who did this.

“bro what? what do you mean you ain’t gonna play ?” riki said in disbelief at what his captain just said.

“some snitch told mrs.park that i cheated on the last assignment and coach suspended me for the next three games, and i got detention all week!” sunghoon unknowingly chuckled. heeseung looked at him with a glare.

“what? she got you good, what did you expect hee?” sunghoon kept laughing, making some of the others also laugh silently.

heeseung had nothing to say back, he just rolled his eyes. “tch, whatever.”

nevertheless, you were overjoyed seeing heeseung slouching on the bench. you couldn’t miss this once in a lifetime scenario. obviously you were the cause for it. heeseung asks Isa almost all the time for her notes or to straight up copy her. she willingly let you rat him out after what he did to you.

he can sense how all eyes were on him, but he just tried to block everyone out a focus on the game. he had a poker face on, but deep inside he was irritated . he saw how you were smirking and laughing with your two little friends. you knew what you were doing.

>>

“ahh look who it is, the benchwarmer! “ you said chuckling as you made your way to heeseung.

after the team (barely) won, jake threw an ‘after party’ at his house. even though you don’t normally go to these parties, especially from those boys, you felt like a party would do good with your marvellous mood. something about seeing heeseung’s frowny face made feel over the moon.

“seems like cat got your tongue now huh? dont have anything to say-“

in a blink of an eye you were pulled into a room, heeseung’s fingers wrapped around your neck, pulling your face closer to his.

“what the fuck? heeseung-“

“shut the fuck up.” his hoarse voice caught you off guard. he was actually really mad.

“you think what you did it’s fucking funny? huh? almost getting me kicked out ? “ you’ve never seen him this enraged before. making you almost scared, yet….kinda turned on? no, you hate him, snap out of it! you told yourself yet the wetness in between your legs became hard to ignore.

you didn’t respond. “fuck, you’re so annoying, i can’t fucking stand you. i hate you.” he saw lowly. fuck that was hot.

you spoke before thinking. “then show me.”

not needing to tell him twice, heeseung pulled you completely in. your lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle, a fierce and consuming clash that spoke longing and raw need.

The kiss deepened, fueled by an unspoken urgency, their mouths exploring each other with a fervor that left y’all breathless. his grip on your neck becoming tighter.

“shit im gonna show you to fucking behave.” he said before pushing you into the bed forcefully. you may have discovered a new kink of yours. watching as he undressed himself and yourself rapidly. feeling his anger through every touch he gave you.

he rubbed through your folds before inserting two fingers aggressively. your body jolted at the sudden move.

“holy shit go softer dumbass.”

“aw you think i give a fuck? suck it up and take it since you think you’re all that.” his fingers pumped faster and faster making it hard for you to answer back to his stupid remarks.

“oh my god..” you tried to pull his hand away before you cum. not wanting to see you orgasm so easily yet.

“just fuck me already heeseung, or is your dick as tiny as your brain?”

heeseung looked darkly at you. that stupid mouth of yours can’t shut up will it?

he retracted his fingers put of you and took his boxers off. wanting nothing more than to prove you wrong.

shit. your eyes went wide at what stood in front of you. saying he was big was an understatement. it was like a zipper for your mouth. how was that thing going to fit inside of you?

“can’t say anything now, can you slut?” he pulled your legs down the mattress to have you at the perfect angle to ram into you.

heeseung ran his til over your folds, teasing his way in. making you aggrevated.

“just put it in for fucks sake!”

“tell me how bad you want it.” you shook your head, no way were you going to beg. no way.

“alright then, i guess im gonna go.” he said letting go of your waist, acting as if he was going to leave.

“okay okay! please fuck me, i want it so bad, i want your big cock so bad heeseung.” heeseung moaned at your words. he didn’t wait any longer and thrusted all of him in you.

you both moaned yet it was more painful for you. you’ve never had something so big inside you before.

“fuck yeah..” he said then grabbing your neck, slightly choking you. your hands went to his biceps, trying to find something to hold on to as the speed he was thrusting in became more hostile.

“fuck me harder, like the asshole you are.” you said in between breaths. heeseung took the challenge and thrusted violently. the skin slapping and wetness of your core could probably be heard in the party outside.

“of course a whore like you would like to be fucked like this.”

before you could respond he pulled out of you earning a desperate groan from you, but then your were flipped, now on all fours and before you knew it he was back in you again. gripping your hip with one hand while he pulled your hair on the other.

“such a tight pussy, you probably fantasized about this am i right?” he said in your ear. you shook your head through your moan.

“in your dreams lee, in your fucking dreams. fuck you.”

“i’m quite literally doing that.” chuckling, he let go of your hair and instead gripped your other hip, going in deeper, nudging your cervix literally driving you to an edge.

“fuck i’m cumming.” you cried out. never has an orgasm felt like this. heeseung was on edge as well, feeling you clench around his dick did it for him.

your climax rose over you, making you fall into the pillow while heeseung kept thrusting until his own organs came over him, pulling out and releasing his white ropes all over your back.

tiredly, he laid besides you in the strangers bed, not knowing what to say now.

you turned to him, smirking. “i think i may hate you even more now.”

[sjneater]

✧˖°.— EXTRA CREDIT.

⟡ pairing: dr ratio x fem!reader ⟡ cw: NSFW, spanking, dom!ratio, cockwarming, anal sex, desk sex, size kink, cream pie ⟡ word count: 2.3k ⟡ an: this fic really got away from me, i love him so much guess who my fave hsr character is really hard challenge LMAO i hope you enjoy and reblogs are appreciated as always!!!!!! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

“Wrong again.”

A resounding smack bounces off the walls of the room as he brings his hand down onto your ass sending vibrations through your skin.

“I thought you paid attention to my lecture yesterday?” he whispers into your ear before nibbling at the skin of your neck.

“I did! I did! ah- I just forgot-!” he cuts off your rambling with another harsh smack on your ass, your flesh hot and throbbing. You find yourself pushing back against his hand subconsciously asking him for more.

“Tut-tut now that just won’t do…” He coos condescending into your ear, his breath causing you to shiver. “You know how I despise idiocy hmm?”

As he speaks you hear the faint but unmistakable sound of clothes rustling causing you to crane your head to take a look.

“Eyes forward” he growls out as he roughly takes your chin and forces you to look at the pages of work in-front of you. You try your best to focus your eyes through bleary and unshed tears, the words and numbers jumbling and scrambling into one big mess of black ink.

“Veritas I can’t-“

“If you’re going to sit there and just complain at least make yourself useful” he breathes into your skin, his tone laced with desire as he roughly shoves his fingers into your mouth and tells you to suck.

You obey immediately to tired and pent-up to have the back and forth spat that usually occurs between the two of you.

You begin to lightly suck on his fingers tracing the ridges and marks on his skin formed by hours of research and working away into the small hours of the night.

“Look at you… So beautiful when you're not giving me attitude” he almost growls at you as he rips his fingers from your mouth, the gasp that follows is quickly swallowed by him smashing his lips against yours. Your moans are muffled against his mouth as he slides his fingers, cold and wet from your salvia, down your sides goosebumps forming in his wake.

“You want this?” he whispers into the skin of your neck fingers tracing shapes into your sides, you internally swoon at the question; always putting your comfort above all else.

“Please Veritas I need you”. He places his lips on top of yours as he pulls you onto his lap; you squeak as you feel his hardened bulge beneath you. His lips continue moving against yours devouring every sound you make, his skilled tongue and mouth distract you from his wandering hands travelling across your thighs.

The tip of his finger delicately traces the tightness of your hole spreading the wetness across your skin, you hadn’t realised it had been quite so long since he touched you- you felt your muscle twitch in response to his touches, the slow and agonising press of his digits inside you cause you to shift on top of his lap.

“Veritas- please…” you gasp at the feeling of being filled with him, “ah- another please”.

Surprisingly he did as he was told, inserting his digits into you in a swift glide your tight hole beginning to stretch around the intrusion. Your mind dizzy with pleasure, you unconsciously press back against him the movement causing his fingers to change angle and rub against that spot that causes stars to dance across your vision.

“That good?” You can feel the curve of his smirk pressed against your cheek.

Smug bastard.

“Shut up!” You grit out as he rubs against that spot again “Veritas I want more… please”.

As soon as the words have left your lips he wraps his fingers around your neck and shoves you back towards the desk, your arms bracing you against the wood.

“So demanding” he drags out in faux disappointment. “I shouldn’t keep you waiting then.”

You release a shaky breath as you feel the slow press of his cock against your rim, the pressure building and building until you gasp out at the feeling of his blunt head breaching you.

You both stay still for a moment the sounds of heavy breathing and panting fill the room, the heat of his body on top of yours, the thin layer of sweat clinging to your skin, it feels like time slows down to a snails pace.

You realise he isn’t moving.

“Veritas..?” You ask apprehensively “Is something the matter-!” He cuts you off by grabbing the scruff of your neck and focusing your attention back on the test sheet in-front of you.

Oh.

“You didn’t think I’d forget did you my love?” His voice sounding far too smug you decide. “You asked for help so let me give you some guidance”, he punctuates his words with a harsh roll of his hips. “Answer these questions and i will grant you your reward my love”.

With a pit in your stomach and unshed tears hanging from your eyelashes you return your attention to the paper in-front of you, the question is barely readable but you push through your lust-ridden haze and you pick up your long forgotten pencil and begin scribbling.

“Like this?” You question him with nervousness lacing your tone as you write down your answer onto the paper.

He peers over your shoulder to look at the question at hand and after a sound of a agreement he begins to lavish the skin of your neck with bites and harsh kisses.

“Very good my dear, that wasn’t so hard was it?” He questions condescendingly, his hands travel to your waist gripping the flesh there and pulling backwards onto his cock, he starts an agonisingly slow pace allowing you to feel every inch of him inside you.

“Veritas… faster please ah-!”

He instantly stills inside you as he takes your chin in between his thumb finger almost inspecting you, you feel an involuntary shiver race up your spine from being scrutinised under this scholars watchful eye.

“You want faster? But you haven’t done what I asked have you? You still have one question left…” He trails off in that annoyingly smug voice. You are almost brought to tears at his words but you decide to play along with his game to get what you want.

Painstakingly slowly, you pick up your pencil again returning what’s left of your rational thinking to the question at hand. The black symbols and shapes of the question swirl incoherently in your mind frustration racking through your body.

“Don’t play the fool. Think.” the deep timbre of his voice tickles the skin of your ears; he takes the pencil from your hand and scribbles down lines of numbers and symbols around the question. “Understand now?”

You glance back at the question trying your best to re-centre your thinking with his added notes now in the forefront of your mind, you pick up the pencil again and as you do so the previous equations are noticeably easier thanks to his help, you somehow manage to compose yourself long enough to write down your answers spurred on by Veritas lavishing the skin of your neck in a myriad of marks and bites.

Minutes feel like hours as Veritas drags out this torture, his fingers teasing the inside skin of your thighs and continuing to litter kisses and marks on any patch of your skin his lips can reach. Your mind fogs with lust but you are fuelled by your burning determination to prove to him you can do this, through your shaking limbs you force your eyes to focus on the equations in-front of you and almost like you were possessed by an aeon themselves you work your way through the question.

“There! I did it!” A bolt of satisfaction courses throughout your body and you crane your head around expecting to see surprise etched into Vertias’ unfairly handsome features, but what awaits you is a face clouded in lust his red eyes long gone dim, eyebrows set in concentration.

“Veritas?-“ He silences your words by devouring your lips with his own; he twists you against the desk, the wooden edge digging into your sides leaving a stinging pleasure in their wake. That’s when it hits you, the fact that you have been sat upon his cock for the better part of fifteen minutes subconsciously cockwarming him; a devious idea forms in your head as you clench around the length still buried in your heat and the reaction you get is divine.

A guttural moan is punched out of his lips, loud and with a slight whine at the end unfairly pretty you think with a pout. “What do you think you’re doing?” He tries to recover swiftly which is quickly ruined by you clenching around him again.

“Veritas please I need you… aah!” You let out a sharp gasp as he harshly thrusts his into you; your walls fluttering around his length and the force of his thrusts send the desk scraping across the floor.

“You did so well for me.” He breathes into your hairline still slowing grinding into your heat. You feverishly nod into his neck, tears still clinging to your eyelashes as you dig your fingers into the skin of his back no doubt leaving marks in their wake.

“Veritas” you whine as you shift your hips against him searching for that perfect angle.

He gets the hint and pushes your work off the desk, pencils and pens making a clattering sound on the floor. You have little time to protest about the work you just slaved over being unceremoniously thrown to the floor and he picks you up and slams you on top of the desk.

“Veritas hurry up fuck-!” without so much as a warning he slams his cock back into your still loose from your activities prior, his head sags and borrows itself into your neck as he sharply picks up rhythm.

Every thrust causes pathetic cries and mewls to be punched out from your lungs, you’re sure the other scholars in the building can hear you now but you can’t find the brain space to care.

“Fuck, you always feel so damn good for me.” He lets out a ragged curse into your ear, still driving his cock into the deepest parts of you, the indents of your nails on his back have more than definitely left crescent-shaped marks on his skin from how hard you are gripping onto him and you discover that some possessive part of you likes that idea. Spurred on by this revelation your mind demands to have him closer closer. You begin to roll your hips in time with his harsh thrusts, trying to fuck yourself back onto his cock while locking your ankles around him to force him even deeper inside you.

Veritas’ watchful gaze seems to pickup on your desire to be closer to him, as he moves his head from its resting place on your neck and takes in the sight of you, splayed out and disheveled on the desk. He turns his attention to where you are connected, his length almost fully disappearing inside you.

“Look at how well you take me… You made for this weren’t you, to be my little cocksleeve?” He spits out at you, his voice taking on a noticeably ragged tone. He languidly trails his fingers across your chest and down towards your stomach before he pushes down on stomach, “You feel me here don’t you?”

You don’t even think of trying to muffle the lewd moan that escapes your lips at his words, you risk a glance downwards finding yourself being unable to stop your eyes from staring at the place where the two of you are connected together; the base of his cock glistening with your slick.

Veritas grasps your hands in his and runs them across your stomach, you let out a soft gasp as he forces you to feel how deep he is inside of you, the tip of his cock creating a soft bump in your stomach. “Oh god- Veritas please! I wanna cum, please please please-!”

He cuts off your mindless babbling as he slowly, torturously, grinds into you as your hiccuping moans support his rhythmic thrusts in and out of your cunt; the pleasure he gives you is all encompassing and overwhelming, a tingling sensation from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, you feel the urge to hide your face from the clinical assessment of his gaze, your arms covering your face and muffling the long string of moans falling out of your mouth at every thrust.

“None of that,” he grunts as he removes your arms from your face and replacing them with his lips. “Don’t you dare hide yourself from me…” with an almost inhuman pace he continues fucking into you each thrust sending the desk slamming against the wall.

“Veri- Veritas please! I’m gonna-!” You throw your head back giving him access to the skin of your neck and he leaps at the opportunity to recover you in marks and bruises.

“Go ahead, show me how good I make you feel.” He grunts out, the timbre of his voice tickling the skin of your ears. He takes your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head as his other hand grips your chin and forces you to look downwards.

“Look at how well I’m fucking you.”

The dam within you breaks at his words, the intensity of your orgasm punching the air out of your lungs as you tighten around him milking his cock for all it’s worth. You feel him reach his peak as he spills inside of you panting like a wounded animal before dropping his head into your neck.

You huff a laugh and use your remaining energy to comb through his hair ‘probably the only time he’d let me do this’ you muse to yourself, eventually Veritas comes back to himself and props his head up on your chest staring at you with the same intensity from earlier.

“So, size kink? Dually noted.” He drawls into the skin of your shoulder.

“Agh-!, Clean me up asshole!” You gasp as Veritas’ low chuckle reaches your ears.

For some reason you wouldn’t mind needing tutoring again.

[borathae]

↳ Full Art

"You run in on Yoongi touching himself in the shower and he begs you to punish him because of it. Hard."

Pairing: Yoongi x n.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut

Warnings: sub!Yoongi, masochist!Yoongi, rough Dom!Reader, he is naked and wet, CBT, cock slapping, safe ball busting with a knee, leaky cocks, dirty talk, degradation, he wants to be called dirty/bad slut, hair pulling, subby boy tears, drool, praise, handjob, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), Yoongi has a kink for being manhandled, male masturbation in shower, nipple sucking, cuddly aftercare, he's just a cute lil masochist who wants his balls busted and get hugs after <3

Wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: okay so, I'm trying trying the new format. istfg besties, Patreon is so stressful I might actually cry. idk how to do it so I'll like it 😭 okay so, my idea is that i'll post the story and a very cropped art preview (as seen on the header) here on Tumblr and if anyone wants to check out the full art to the story, they have to go to my Patreon. Engagement as far as stories is concerened is very bad on Patreon *glares* and I really miss yelling about the stories with you guys. So for my own peace of mind, i'll keep the stories on Tumblr and give all my true connoisseurs something extra spicy to thirst over on Patreon hehe <3 thank you for being patient with me. I promise to keep drawing and improving and to feed y'all thirsty hoes (affectionately) as much as I can 💜 also lmao those are long a/n fjajsdf have fun besties sorry it took a lil longer today, i tried to figure out how i wanna do sexy art of the month from now on fajdjfs

The bathroom is fogged up and smells heavily like Yoongi’s soap. Masculine, clean and expensive. You find yourself hazy because of it. What truly seals the state of you, however, is the view. Mirrors misted up, air milky from steam and right there in his expensive walk-in shower, Yoongi is having his throbbing cock in his tight fist. The water is turned off right now, but his body is still wet. His dark hair is slicked back, his silky skin is glistening and his head is tilted back in bliss as soft sighs slip past his pouty lips. 

You walked in on him touching himself. You really didn’t plan on doing so, but can’t seem to get yourself to leave. Or to stop staring for that matter.

He has a languid rhythm going. Slow, but clearly skilled. His long fingers are wrapped tightly around his veiny cock. His thumb is drawing circles on his flushed tip and pretty frenulum. He is sensitive there, likes it especially when someone is being gentle with it. His dark nipples are hard and the pale skin around them is flushed as if he had played with them moments before. Knowing Yoongi, he did. He is such a slut for nipple play. He is so fucking tender there. 

“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out breathily, gliding his left hand up his own torso as he fucks his cock slowly. 

He is tensing and relaxing his stomach, broadening his stance as his knees wobble. He furrows his brows, biting down on his lower lip as small mewls leave him repeatedly. His long fingers close around his own biceps, giving it a needy squeeze. Look at the marks he leaves, look at how he is tensing his muscles.

You find yourself gulping and taking heavy breaths at the view.

What made him so goddamn needy? 

One thing Yoongi rarely does, is to jerk off. He sees it as something useless because if he gets horny, he has you to take the burden off his shoulders. He also rarely gets horny without you in the first place, so there is that. So to have him so incredibly lost in masturbation is rare and therefore insanely addicting.

What made him so needy? Was it a memory? A fantasy? A picture or video? Was it nothing of that sorts and he merely touched his cock wrong as he cleaned himself? Did the water hit the right spot and trap him in the delicious sensation of its wet massage? 

What did it to him?

“___”, Yoongi moans loudly, leaking onto the floor.

Your stomach clenches. Holy fuck. You did it to him. You did. The thought of you, the memory of your touch and the image of you did it to him. You let out a small gasp at the realisation.

Yoongi startles at the sound and opens his eyes. He stops, tenses up. You freeze, holding your breath. The air between you and him is tense and electric. He blinks at you, mouthing your name quietly.

“I uhm”, you begin, clearing your throat loudly.

He drops his hand from his biceps, tightening his fingers around his cock. He can’t seem to leave his trance of shock. The only indicator that the view of you is turning him on, is his increasing breathing and how needily his long fingers still hold his cock.

“I uhm, sorry. I wasn’t staring, I mean, I was but I- sorry, I uhm, I’m gonna leave now”, you stutter and turn to leave.

“Help me.” 

You halt, wobbling slightly because he is making your knees buckle. You turn around, dancing your eyes over his body.

“Sorry?” 

“Help me. Please”, he begs and tugs at his cock weakly, biting down on his lower lip as he does. Look at the needy kitten eyes he is making at you. 

“Really?” you get out, feeling dizzy at the view. You want to ruin this man. You really do.

He nods his head, lowering his eyes at you. He is taunting you as much as he is begging you.

You do not bother to take off your clothes, he only has to nod his head twice and then you are already in the shower, eating him up with just your eyes. 

Yoongi cups your face and kisses you. He mewls needily as he does it, sucking on your lips and tongue more than he actually kisses you. It is so lazy, so slow and yet so intensely passionate. He is so lost in you, so entirely addicted to your taste that he is solely running on it. Whatever he fantasised about before really did it to him. You feel up his torso hungrily, moaning at the delicious taste of him.

He is shivering with each touch, chasing the feeling of you with wiggles of his hips which force his cock to grind against your clothed stomach. The fabric of your hoodie feels rough against his sensitive tip. He craves the silkiness of your skin like plants crave sunlight.

He breaks the kiss with a sigh of your name, resting his forehead against yours. 

“I was bad”, he breathes.

“You were?” you are kneading his waist, staring at his flushed face with hazy eyes.

“Yeah. Thought of you ‘til I got needy”, he rasps and mewls quietly, mouthing at the tip of your nose, “touched myself to you.”

“Fuck, Yoongi.”

“Punish me.” 

“Punish you?” 

“Please.”

You step back and pick up his cock so you could slap his tip. Gently for now, to test the waters. 

Yoongi moans loudly, squeezing your cheeks softly. His knees buckle slightly.

“Like this, mhm?” you ask, slapping him again. Soft. Careful. Get him used to it. Or needy for more. You are fine with both options as long as it ends in your boyfriend panting and needy.

He scrunches his face in pleasure, letting out a shaky “mh-hm” before he follows it up with a breathy, “don’t stop please.” 

“Fuck Yoongi, you’re driving me insane. You’re so hot.”

“I’m a bad slut”, he croaks.

“Yeah, the fucking worst. Bad slut, such a bad slut”, you growl, giving him harsh spanks. Now that you know he wants it, you are so happy to give it to him.

He takes each of your spanks with a blissed moan and a twitch of his cock. His pink tip got so much pinker ever since you started playing with him. His chest is flushed as well, looking so untouched.

You take his heavy cock between your fingers and pick up his favourite rhythm. Then you step closer to litter his chest with kisses. Wet and sloppy. You need to mark his skin as yours and taste him in the process.

Yoongi arches his back, dropping his head against the glass behind him. Your name slips past his lips, his hands grab your waist and squeeze. 

“You’re a bad slut, Yoongi love, but you’re such a pretty slut at that”, you rasp and take his left nipple between your teeth. You tug on it, making him moan. You suck on it, making him mewl. You lick it, making him sigh your name.

He is tender there. Just as you said.

And as you give him heaven with just your mouth, your hands are busy feeling him up. Your right hand fucks his cock like it deserves to be fucked, while your left hand feels up his waist and hips. He fits so perfectly between your fingers. It is like he is made to be touched by you and only you. His skin is so soft and warm, leaving behind wetness on your fingertips from the previous shower. His cock is twitching so cutely in your hold.

You lift your lips from his right nipple after worshiping it as well, tilting your head so you are looking at his pretty face. You cup his pink cheek.

“Look at me.”

Yoongi obeys, fluttering his lashes at you. He is breathing so heavily, gazing at you as if you were his fucking everything.

“You’re a pretty slut. You know that, don’t you?”

He nods his head, choking out a shy “yeah.”

“You do. Good. Don’t forget it, kitten”, you order and slow your hand around his tip. It sits between your fingers. You increase the pressure slightly and move your hand again. Just a little, just enough that he’s getting fucked so good.

Yoongi gasps, widening his eyes for just a second before rolling them back.

“No, no look at me.”

Yoongi obeys with a mewl of your name.

“That’s better. I wanna look at your pretty eyes.”

“I have to cum”, he moans.

“Cause you’re looking at me?”

He nods his head, leaking all over your palm, “can’t hold it…like…this.”

“God, you lovedrunk slut, you”, you tease, giving his favourite spot a good rub.

“Please”, he begs, “please, can I cum?”

“Mhhm, don’t know. Do you deserve it?”

“Please I, mghm, I’ll give you head later”, he bargains with the prettiest kitten eyes.

“Obviously, you’re gonna do that anyways. Do better, Yoongi slut”, you warn, slowing down dangerously.

“Please”, he begs louder and thrusts his hips into your fist. 

It earns him a harsh spank, “behave.”

“Fuck please. I-I’ll cockwarm you, promise I, I won’t move. Please.” 

“But Yoongi, where is the fun in that? I’ll do that anyways. You know that bad, dirty jerk off sluts get cockwarmed”, you coo as your skilled fingers torture his flushed tip. He is burning up, smearing his precum all over your digits. 

“I have to cum so bad”, he croaks and spills tears, “please can I cum? I’ll be so good please.” 

“Fine. You can cum”, you say calmly even if your hand is giving his cock such a good fuck. He didn’t convince you, you just simply have a better way to ruin him how he so clearly craves.

“___”, he moans and closes his eyes sensually. Moments later, his swollen cock releases all over your hand. His knees buckle, he finds support by grabbing your shoulders and arching his back. His moan is loud and drawn-out.

“Look at you”, you moan with him, speeding up your hand now that he is giving you such a good show, “good slut, cum for me. That’s my good slut.”

Yoongi is shaking and trembling in bliss, but soon begins shaking and trembling for other reasons. You aren’t slowing down. His balls are empty, his cock so overstimulated, but you aren’t slowing down. You jerk off his cock as if it has a debt to pay, giving him burning heaven in the process. 

He finally realises what he signed up for and that your sweet words were nothing but deception. He didn’t convince you. You aren’t done with him. One wasn’t enough. 

“Please, please, pl-please”, he begs, trying to flee you as much as chases you. 

“One more, kitten. Give me one more.” 

“I can’t. Oh god, I can’t”, he mewls and stumbles as he tries to flee.

You grab him and pin him against the glass harshly, knocking a weak gasp out of him. His knees buckle, his teary eyes gaze at you with all the devotion he can muster. He loves when you’re rough with him, when you show him that he is yours to manhandle.

“Give me more”, you growl, speeding up around his cock.

“No please”, Yoongi mewls and tries to wiggle away just so you can put him back in his place. He parts his legs, hoping that you take the silent hint.

You do. Of course you do. You lift your knee against his balls hard enough that it hurts. Yoongi folds into himself with a pained moan, grabbing your waist. He is already so fucking hard again, throbbing in your hand as if he never released before. 

“Stop fleeing me”, you growl and knee him again, twisting your hand around his burning tip at the same time. 

Yoongi sobs, burying his face in your shoulder. It hurts so much. He has never been so fucking high on pleasure before. It feels so good. Yoongi swears every second is the best second he ever experienced.

“Understood? You do not flee me”, you give his tender balls one last harsh nudge with your knee, then grab his hair to pull his head back. 

He coughs out a sob, spilling tears and drool all down his pretty face. He can barely even keep his eyes open, let alone stop them from crossing. 

He is so pretty. 

“What’s with that pretty face?” you challenge, pumping his overstimulated cock quickly as you grind your knee against his balls at the same time. 

“Yours”, he croaks.

“That’s right. Mine. My pretty slut.”

“You’re making me cum.” 

“See? I knew you could give me more. Don’t hold back, slut.”

“Knee. Please.” 

You knee him a fourth time. Yoongi wails up, folding into himself in both pain and pleasure before spilling all over your hoodie and his stomach. So his balls weren’t empty yet. Of course they weren’t. You are proving to him how much of a slut he actually is.

He melts into you, shaking on your knee as your name leaves him like his prayer of bliss.

“Good slut, give me everything. Such a good slut. That’s so much better, I knew one wasn’t enough. Your pretty balls are never empty after only one. That’s it. Good slut”, you talk him through it, holding him safely as your hand milks him dry.

Soon Yoongi slacks into you, grabbing your wrist to stop your movements.

“No more.”

You don’t listen just to tease him, giving his burning tip a tight massage. He trembles and writhes, squeezing your wrist.

“Stop.”

You are going to stop, but first you need to tease him just a little more. A few more squeezes and rubs, a little pump and tug.

“Please”, he begs breathily, wiggling his hips away from you.

“You’re so cute”, you coo and finally drop his ruined cock.

“Thank you”, he sighs and sinks into you, hugging you tightly as he recovers.

You hug him back, tracing his spine.

“How was that, mhm?” you ask him, speaking in a soft voice.

He nods his head slowly, humming. 

“Yeah? Was it good for you?” 

“Was perfect”, he lulls and purrs contently, “thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Oh god, I need to lie down now”, he says and chuckles, “my balls are so fucking tender.”

“I can imagine. I kicked them really hard. Are you okay? Should I get something for the pain?”

He shakes his head, “you did it so right. Thank you so much.”

You smile, “that’s good to hear. You’re such a good boy.”

Yoongi nuzzles his nose against your neck and purrs softly, melting under your praise. You know exactly how to love him.

“I love you so much”, he mumbles.

“I love you too.”

“I actually wanna lie down though.”

You chuckle, “okay, okay let’s get you cleaned up and cozy. You’re gonna get back scratches in bed”, you say as you lead him to the shower head.

“And ear rubs.”

“And ear rubs. As my prince wishes”, you say and turn on the water to wash away the mess he left. Yes, you will change into different clothes, “how’s the temperature, love?”

“Good. Nice.”

“Yeah? Is it good how I’m touching you?” you ask as you clean his cock and balls with gentle fingers.

He nods his head, “hm.”

“Good. God, Yoongi love, you’re so handsome.” 

Yoongi blushes, lowering his eyes shyly. Yeah, you definitely know how to love him.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓮 - Aemond Targaryen

i got a job so now i don't have any time to write, but i'm still trying to find the time on my days off but all i wanna do is sleep lmao. But here's this, it turned out way longer than it was supposed to be lmao

Summary: After your father betroths you to another lord, your secret lover is livid when he finds out and decides to make you and everyone else see that you will always be his.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), arranged marriage (not to Aemond), possessive!Aemond, period typical misogyny, loss of virginity, slight innocence kink, breeding kink, not so dry humping, very slight dubcon, and noncon exhibitionism (reader is unaware, therefore not able to consent)

word count | 9.4k🤙🏻(oops)

You almost let out a scream when your father told you his “happy” news. You were stunned into silence, frozen in fear but boiling in rage beneath your skin.

Your father informed you that he had found you the perfect match, some old fat lord in the North that would strengthen the bond between your two houses. Of course, it wasn’t your perfect match. It was your father’s. He was always power hungry, but you never thought he’d give you up to a stranger for more wealth. You always thought you were his little girl, precious and untouchable, always the favorite. Oh, how wrong you were.

As fearful as you were for yourself, you couldn’t help but think how terribly your lover would react.

You had been secretly spending time with the second son of the King, prince Aemond. Your father had moved the two of you to King’s Landing after he managed to snag a spot as one of the Master of Coin’s advisors on the small council, allowing you to be in the vicinity of the royal children more often than not. You were quiet, kept to yourself, much like the young prince. You were intimidated by all the royals at first, but most of them welcomed you or were indifferent, which you didn’t mind. You met all the children when you first got to the Red Keep. You liked Helaena, she was kind and open minded, besides the ominous words she often spewed, you thought of her like a sister. Aegon was more so the indifferent one, and Aemond seemed to be as well. Aemond never showed any emotion on his face, so it was hard to get a read on him. When introducing yourself with a curtsy, all he did was nod and let out a hum of acknowledgement. It often felt like he only tolerated you, until he proved otherwise.

You were wandering the halls waiting for your father to get out of a meeting when the elder prince Aegon had cornered you, deep into his drinks and unable to control his urges, begging you to allow him to take you back to his chambers and show you “a good time.” You had always felt a sense of unease around the firstborn son of the king, especially after being warned by the servants that he had a tendency to get handsy, but you always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt, even living in the world you did. Prince Aegon had never tried to seduce you before, so you figured he respected you as the daughter of a member of the small council. Again, you had a habit of being wrong in your opinions.

Aegon had grabbed ahold of your hand and started placing wet kisses on the palm of your hand, trying to pull you with him. But before Aegon could go too far, his younger brother shoved him away from you, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Aegon immediately backed off, clearly in fear of his brother and drunkenly stumbled down the halls back to his quarters. “I apologize for my brother’s behavior, my lady. I will make sure he does not bother you again.” And that he did. After that day, prince Aegon never even looked in your direction, much less tried to seduce you again.  You found prince Aemond in the library the next couple days, thanking him for his help. “I couldn’t bear the thought of a lady as beautiful as yourself getting defiled by the halfwit I’m forced to call my sibling.” 

It made your heart flutter.

After that, you found yourself wanting to spend more time with prince Aemond. He was thoughtful, passionate, and surprisingly kind. He was everything the rumors had said he wasn’t. Aloof, bloodthirsty, and cruel, those were the rumors you had heard about the younger prince. Sure, he could be those things towards other people, but never towards people he cared about. You saw how he behaved around his mother, sister and her children, especially with the children. He let his niece and nephew play with his hair, his clothes, anything they could get their stubby little hands on, all while a content smile decorated his face. He was the only one who actually listened to his sister, the only one who treated his mother with the utmost respect. You even caught him joking around with Ser Criston Cole in the training yard one morning. And steadily over time, you become one of the people he cared about.

It was subtle things that made you realize prince Aemond started to care for you. Firstly, he saved you from being assaulted by his brother. Afterwards, he would start to exchange pleasantries whenever you’d see each other, something he did not do to anyone else. At first, you thought that maybe his mother forced him to seek out conversation with you, just out of politeness or for some sort of advantage. But what sort of advantage would the prince have if he befriended you? Over time, the prince would seek you out so often that he couldn’t have been forced to do so, and surely not being as gentlemanly as he was with you when he did. Spending a morning with princess Helaena and the children, your face heated up furiously when she told you in confidence that her brother had a soft spot for you. She had also told you that Aemond might’ve been too gentlemanly, not afraid, but cautious to make the first move.

Back then, you weren’t too worried about your father marrying you off that you felt you could explore a courtship on your own without disapproval. Plus, courting prince Aemond wouldn’t be the worst for your house, if you ever thought that way. You were still a naive girl, never been through many hardships or traumas, you had a rosy view of the world even with all your education. You were an optimist, the thought of taking a chance on prince Aemond didn’t frighten you as much as it should have. You didn’t think of what the repercussions could be if he didn’t reciprocate your attraction, and what his rejection could do to your father’s role on the small council. But it turned out to be the best decision you could ever make.

During a walk with prince Aemond around the Godswood, you decided to bring up your relationship with him. “Besides Helaena, I feel as though you’re my closest friend here.” Your direct statement had briefly taken him by surprise, no one had ever been bold enough to express sincere feelings towards him. Most were too intimidated by him to even look in his direction, but you never seemed scared of him, even when the two of you first met. It was awkward as any first meeting goes, but after that, you were never afraid to look him in the eye and speak freely, despite him being a son of the king. 

You were endearing to Aemond, a feeling he had only felt towards his sister and her children. But you were different, he felt a protectiveness over you much like his family, but jealousy had also come with it. Seeing you talk to any other lords or men at court made an uncomfortable pressure form in his chest, a weight that burned and he couldn’t get rid of it no matter how much he tried. That day when he found Aegon practically drooling over you, it took everything Aemond had to not bash his older brother’s face in. Aegon was lucky to get away with just a shove. It troubled Aemond that he yearned to do more, to his brother or any man that gazed upon you salaciously. He felt the need to protect that childlike innocence you still often displayed. When the feelings got too strong, he’d often seek out Helaena to vent and listen to her cryptic advice. Most times, she’ll just giggle, which wasn’t helpful but he was just thankful his frustrated venting didn’t disturb her.

So when you revealed that his sister may have fibbed about his secret affection for you, he had half a mind to storm into her chambers and tell her off angrily, even though he’d never do that to her. But he did feel embarrassed, his face flushing a dusty red. He froze when you took a step closer to him, your natural warmth radiating off your body and onto his, your eyes looking up at him with a familiar expression. He often saw a similar look on Aegon or the whores on the Street of Silk, but it didn’t disgust him now when that particular look was on your face. In fact, he couldn’t look away. You looked between his eye and his lips, wetting your own and raising yourself up on your toes so your face was level with his, a delicate hand holding onto his shoulder for support. He didn’t move, wanting to see how far you would take it, your behavior already proving unbecoming of a lady. Though, he couldn’t help the way his eyelid became heavy with lust as your lips got closer and closer to his.

Disappointment rushed through Aemond as you kissed his cheek, leaving his lips tingling and yearning for yours. Along with that disappointment, he also felt a surprising warmth. You had kissed him so gently, almost featherlight, and he’d never experienced that kind of affection from anyone, not even his mother. He was all sharp and rough edges, no one daring enough to risk being cut by his frightening figure. But you pulled away, unharmed, a shy smile on your face. Unfortunately, that was all you had done. “My prince,” You curtsied politely, and left a stunned Aemond in the Godswood nonchalantly, as if you hadn’t just triggered a part of him that he never thought he’d feel; desire. He had thought he wanted to protect your innocence, but now, all he could think about was ruining you.

The next morning, there was no place you could hide from prince Aemond. He found you almost immediately as the day started, dragging you to a secluded part of the Red Keep where he knew there would be no prying eyes. “Quite the display you made yesterday, care to enlighten me on the sudden…affection?” Aemond had asked.

You only smiled innocently, too innocently. “Whatever do you mean, my prince?”

Aemond reveled in the light gasp you made when he pressed you against the wall, his arm resting on the wall above your shoulder and the other on your waist, the slight pressure making you dazed. “You know very well what I mean, my lady. That kiss. Such a tease. You look so meek and innocent on the surface, but beneath all your polite smiles you’re just a little vixen, aren’t you? I’ve half the mind to take you right here right now, out in the open where any lord or lady could see.” The hand on your waist tightened, moving up your side but he froze when you placed your hand on his, a nervous expression on your face.

“Prince Aemond, I’ve never–I’m a maiden, my prince, I can assure you.” You stuttered uncharacteristically, making Aemond loosen the grip he had on you. “I never meant to make you think that…I was a woman of…loose morals.”

Aemond’s brows furrowed, one hidden beneath his eyepatch. “Then, yesterday? Why did you kiss me like that, just on the cheek, and leave?”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. “I didn’t want to just kiss you on the cheek, trust me. I almost really kissed you, but then a realization hit me right before I could. If someone were to see, report it to my father…he could lose his position because of me and I couldn’t do that to him. I’d be shamed, labeled a whore or worse.”

Aemond hummed, taking in your words, only a few really being comprehended more than the others. “If you had really kissed me…I would’ve kissed you back.”

You looked down at your feet, giggling shyly. “I assumed.”

Aemond lifted your chin with his hand gently, making sure your gaze stayed on him, your widened eyes making him force back a smirk. “You still could. Kiss me.” He stroked your cheek lightly, the peach fuzz of your face tickling his knuckles.

“B-But, my father-”

“Your father doesn’t have to know. I know the Red Keep like the back of my hand. I know the places that are scarcely visited, when others are devoid of servants or family, and there are secret passageways all over the Keep and there happens to be one that leads from your room,” He leans in close, his lips right next to your ear, “all the way to mine.”

You almost moaned, but pushed him away before your desires overcame you. “As delightful as that sounds…I don’t plan on giving away my maidenhead anytime soon. I can’t risk siring bastards, it would bring shame upon my family and my house. I’m sure that…you could understand.” 

He could, and he did. As much as he wanted you, he’d respect your decision. He understood being a woman in this world was much more dangerous and had stricter societal rules. Besides, he’d never want to have bastards, that would be hypocritical. Though, the vision of your belly swollen with his seed made him aroused more than he would ever admit. He’d keep it to himself. “Of course, my lady. I’m not attracted to you just because you’re a maiden, you know? But…there are other things we can do together.”

You smiled. “Like what?”

Aemond’s hand was back on your waist, sliding his body against yours until his warmth and scent encompassed you entirely, bringing back that same dazed feeling in your head. “I could teach you about the history of Old Valyria, our house, maybe even teach you some Valyrian if you’d like.” His hand ran up and down your side, when you think his hand will reach the underside of your breast, he’d go back down. A frustrating cycle, his tone of voice not helping either. It did not sound like he was talking about teaching you history, more like teaching you about more…intimate studies. “We could read together in the library, perhaps I could introduce you to Vhagar one day. But first, you could kiss me. No one is around, no one will be for a while. That’s not too dangerous, is it?”

Your face flushed with heat, your eyes growing heavy with lust, a similar position you had him in just yesterday. “No, I suppose not.” You breathed out, placing your hands on his leather covered chest, feeling the tight muscles beneath, making the sensitive apex of your thighs ache with want.

Aemond stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, taking his time and his eye running over every detail of your face he could find, finding the imperfections that endeared him to you even more. He placed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture making your heart thump even more rapidly in your chest, the anticipation almost making you lose your patience. Is this what you made him feel yesterday? But after what felt like an eternity, Aemond finally started to lean in, his breath fanning over your face, your own intermingling with his. 

It was featherlight at first, tickling, not enough pressure to even feel like a kiss. But after a few seconds of Aemond simply teasing and tracing his lips with yours, he finally pressed against you more firmly. His lips were soft against yours, not rushing and moving languidly, eliciting a small noise of contentment from you. As he opened his mouth to trace his tongue on your bottom lip, you could tell he had some practice. You both deepened the kiss, his hand on your waist tightening and pulling you forward against him until your back ached off the wall. His other hand cupped your jaw roughly as the kiss became more passionate and frenzied, his teeth nibbling the sensitive flesh of your bottom lip until you winced from the sting, but you found that you quite liked it. You reached one of your hands to the nape of his neck, tangling and tugging at the silvery white hair until he groaned, the both of you sighing into each other’s mouths as desire overtook you.

You finally realized, despite you being adamant about retaining your virtue, your body was moving on its own accord. You were pawing at Aemond like some lecherous woman on the Street Of Silk, soft moans and sighs leaving your mouth unabashedly. Only when your hips started canting up towards him you finally managed to stop yourself, pulling your lips away from his with wild panting breaths.

“You’re a fast learner, my lady.” Aemond panted, chuckling breathlessly, seemingly unwilling to let you go.

“I suppose I am.” You mirrored his shy smile, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace only to immediately yearn for his arms around you again. “Perhaps we could read together in the library tomorrow?” You asked hopefully.

Aemond smirked. “To read, or to repeat what we just did?”

You scoffed, lightly smacking his shoulder. “To read!” You giggled, making Aemond laugh in return. You felt yourself swell with pride. It was so rare to see the prince genuinely laugh, and to be the one to elicit such a reaction from him, it made you feel like you were on top of the world.

When you both met up in the library the next day, you didn’t do much reading like you had planned…

From that day to the present, that had been a lot of what your relationship with prince Aemond was like. You got to know each other, of course. You had deep conversations, shared secrets you never told another soul in the world, learned about each other’s cultures and traditions, and grew fond of one another as the days passed. You each both confided in one another, making your bond deep, spending every moment you could in the privacy of your own bedrooms. It was inevitable that you fell in love with each other. Aemond spoke of his feelings first, which surprised you, thinking that it would be you to tell him first.

It had been a normal day like any other. Aemond was trying to teach you some Valyrian, laughing harder than he’s ever laughed in his life at your gods awful pronunciation at most of the words, but you were trying so hard he almost felt bad for laughing at you. Almost. When you finally perfected the phrase he was trying to teach you, your whole face lit up with pride. He had found he had a habit of just staring at you, especially when you smiled. He thought you were one of the most beautiful sights the world had to offer and he realized he needed you like he needed oxygen, and that’s when he said it. “I fear I’ve fallen madly in love with you, my lady.”

It only took you a few seconds for it to register, the statement making you freeze, then overwhelming joy completely consuming you. “I love you too, my handsome prince.” You grinned brightly, taking Aemond’s breath away and forcing a surprised huff from his lips when you lunged towards him, accidently knocking him out of his chair and you with him, collapsing together on the floor of his bedroom. You would’ve been mortified if it weren’t for the dark, lustful look in his eye as you hovered above him, your legs naturally coming to straddle him, like you were made to be in this position with him. Your face flushed with heat as you could feel the evidence of Aemond’s arousal through his trousers, pressing against your own aching core. “I want you…I want you so badly, Aemond.” You spoke brittly, the throbbing between your legs getting harder to ignore. Aemond leaned up off the floor with his elbows, surging forward to kiss you before you stopped him. “But I can’t give up my maidenhead…”

Aemond deflated in disappointment, but a light shined in his eye suddenly, a soft smirk adorning his lips. “I know of a way we can without taking your virtue.”

You sighed. “I don’t know-”

“Do you trust me?” Aemond looked up at you with pure love and adoration, the intensity almost forcing you to look away. 

“With my life.”

Aemond situated himself on his bed, only in his smallclothes, making his erection even more prominent than before. He helped you undress down to your shift, with your permission, indulging in the feelings of your barely covered breasts as your gown was practically see through. You weren’t nervous or embarrassed like you thought you’d be, Aemond just made you feel so at ease and comfortable, looking at you like you were a goddess he worshiped that all insecurity fled your body in that moment. “Sit on my lap,” He instructed calmly, not giving away how eager he was to feel you against him. He had more self control than that, besides, he wanted this to be about you as much as himself.

You placed yourself in the position you were previously, just behind his arousal, waiting for his guidance. Aemond didn’t say anything as he took hold of your hips, bringing you forward until your aching cunt made contact with his cock through his smallclothes, the contact already making you both sigh out in pleasure. “Just rock yourself against me, sweetling.” He guided, helping you find your rhythm until you started to rock against him yourself, but his hands still stayed at your hips to ground himself.

This technically wasn’t losing your maidenhead, but it felt so good that it still made you guilty, but you were too aroused to care.

You moaned softly as you rubbed your slick folds against his clothed cock, your clit getting delicious stimulating pressure with every cant of your hips, all the while Aemond did not take his eye off you, his own groans of pleasure escaping his lips. “Does it feel good, my lady?” Aemond asked, almost smugly.

“Yes, my prince. So good.” You stuttered, finding it difficult to multitask…and breathe. You found yourself quickly getting overheated, your legs started to shake with your efforts. Aemond seemed to sense this, rolling you over on your back, a smile coming to his face when he saw the wet patch you already made on his smallclothes. “Did…I do that?” You asked in embarrassment.

Aemond smirked with pride. “It means you’re enjoying it, my lady. Now let me take over for a while, alright?” You nodded, your face heating up like a furnace as he hovered above. Even when making sure he wasn’t crushing you, you could still feel the power in his body, how easily he could force you into submission. But he wasn’t, he was letting you take the lead for the most part. But now, he was rutting against you, his clothed cock rubbing against your core just as perfectly as the previous position you were in. He was more confident and assured in his movements than you were, hitting your clit with more precision, making you cry out his name.

You clawed at his back, high pitched whines leaving your mouth, panting heavily. Aemond kissed all over your face, neck, and pulled down your shift until your breasts were freed from its confines to kiss them as well. Aemond’s breathless moans fanned against your ear, where he had tucked his face in the crook of your neck, the occasional soft whimper making you feel emboldened enough to roll him over to straddle him once again.

You braced your hands on his bare chest as you started to rock yourself faster, an unfamiliar pressure building in your lower stomach that threatened to burst if you kept going. It scared you, how could it get any better than this? You already felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, what would happen if that coil in you did burst? You thought you’d die on the spot, but Aemond kept giving you reassuring words and soothing your overheating body with his hands, encouraging you to keep going. “It’s alright, my lady. I’ve got you.” He cooed, one hand on your hip and the other taking hold of yours to kiss across the thin skin of your knuckles.

You felt the pressure building and building, like the whistling in a teapot getting louder as the water rose in temperature; until you came with a strangled cry, the feeling of euphoria overpowering your senses, your hips stuttering, tears coming to your eyes and falling down your cheeks in rivulets. Aemond’s grip on your hips returned, the force surely causing bruises to form as he continued to rock you against him, chasing his own end. You powered through the overstimulation, the sight of Aemond losing himself to his pleasure enough to make you want to do it all over again. He came with a loud grunt, his eye shutting tightly and bucking his hips up against you until he painted the inside of his smallclothes white, his spend mixing with yours. “You are truly magnificent, my lady.” 

You loved each other so much. You couldn’t imagine life without him, and he felt the same as well. You always imagined living the rest of your life with him, married someday, and a gaggle of white haired children running around the Red Keep. That was until your dreams were crushed when your father told you that you were to be wed to someone who wasn’t your handsome prince.

How were you going to break the news to Aemond? How badly would he react? You didn’t want to stop being with him, you cared for him more than anything. But you had a duty to fulfill, you had to listen to your father, you simply had no choice. Women never got a choice.

You entered prince Aemond’s chambers through the secret passageway that he had shown to you, your heart already dropping to your stomach as he looked up from a book he was reading, grinning ear to ear as he laid his eye on you. “My lady,” He rose to his feet, greeting you with a soft kiss. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Your expression must’ve given you away, for his grin fell, a look of concern replacing his joy. “What’s the matter, my love?”

You deflated, instinctually burrowing yourself into his chest with quiet sobs, his arms instantly wrapping around you. “My…my father…” You hiccupped, unable to get the words out for it was too painful.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Aemond cooed, rubbing his hands along your back to try and comfort you. “Take deep breaths, love. Take your time.”

“My father has betrothed me to someone else.” You cried, your tears falling freely off your face, staining your cheeks and creating a dark patch on Aemond’s white tunic.

Aemond froze, his heart starting to beat rapidly in his chest, anger threatening to take over his entire being. “What?” He spoke darkly, his voice dropping several octaves. “No. No, you can’t.”

You pulled away, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand angrily. “I have no choice, Aemond. Father has already set up a meeting with the lord. No matter what, I’m expected to marry him…bed him and bear his children.” You spat, your fate making you wish you were never born.

Aemond grabbed your shoulders tightly, a wild, dangerous look in his eye. “No. I won’t let this happen.”

You sighed in defeat. “Unfortunately, my love…it’s not up to you.”

You left his chambers feeling worse than you had felt before. Usually, you always left him beaming and weightless, like you could conquer the world as long as he was by your side. But now, you were going to be forced to leave him. You didn’t want to marry someone lord from the North. All your life, you’ve heard how hard living in the North was, how the citizens and even lords lived more like Wildlings than actual people. You’re betrothed was rugged, hairy, loud, and plump, the total opposite of your Targaryen lover. The thought of having to lay with someone like that, especially for your first time, it never failed to bring you to tears. It made you want to run back to Aemond, just so your first time would be with someone you loved. But that would be a sin, and if found out, might get you killed. If you didn’t bleed on your wedding night, your virtue would be called into question and you’d be labeled a harlot and be discarded onto the streets or worse. Your father promised the Northern lord a virgin, so you had no choice but to remain chaste.

Over the next few weeks, the Northern lord visited King’s Landing to meet you. You tried your best to be polite, not act disgusted as you truly felt whenever you were forced to dine with him. You barely saw Aemond, and you couldn’t, lest you garner unwanted attention that would have rumors spread like wildfire. But that didn’t mean Aemond tried to stay away himself.

Every so often, you’d spot him in the corner of your eye, watching you intently. You were never afraid of him, but you now started to fear what he might do to keep you, not that you’d protest. You could feel the tension in the air constantly when he was around. There came a point where Aemond would interrupt every meeting you had with the Northern lord. Even though it was quite amusing to see your prince so jealous, you couldn’t help but worry what your father would do if he found out Aemond was trying to sabotage your courtship. You could tell the lord was getting annoyed with all the interruption, but unfortunately, that made him all the more determined to wed you. Aemond wasn’t helping, at all. And he could tell. The night before your final meeting with the Northern lord to determine if you’d make a good match, Aemond came to your chambers through the secret passageway.

“Aemond? The hour is late, what are you doing here?” You asked with a bashful smile, standing up from your bed in nothing but your nightgown, not leaving much to the imagination.

Aemond smirked, sauntering towards you and placing his hands on your waist, pulling you flush against him. “What? I’m not allowed to see my lady?”

Your face grew hot at the possessiveness of his words, a pang of arousal shooting through your core. “No, my prince, you are not. Because if you recall, we’re not wed.” You sighed sadly. “...and never will be.”

Aemond tsked in annoyance, his grip on your hips tightening almost painfully. “You say that like it is a sure thing.”

You frowned. “Is it not?”

Aemond tilted his head as he gazed upon your face, running his pointer finger down your cheek, then along your jaw, gently lifting your chin up so your lips met his. “I will not let this happen to you, love. You. Are mine. Not some Northern dog…do you trust me?”

“Of course.” You asked immediately, melting against his touch, like his skin was a balm against yours.

“Then let me take care of it. Of you.”

“You already take care of me, my handsome prince.” And with that, his lips were back on yours in an instant, possessive and more aggressively, making you whimper. His hands caressed your body, running along your sides, grazing the underside of your breast until they traveled down to grab handfuls of the fatty flesh of your ass, eliciting a squeal from you. “Aemond,” You chuckled breathlessly between kisses, “I have to wake in the early morning.” You sighed out as he attached his lips to your neck, sucking harshly. “Aemond, no marks tonight.” But he paid you no mind. Then, you felt his fingers brush against your clothed core, and you had to push him away. “Are you trying to…bed me?” You asked nervously.

Aemond smirked. “I am.” 

Your eyes widened, taking a step away from him, causing him to frown. “Why can’t we do what we normally do? The way without taking my virginity?”

“Do you not want me, my lady?” He asks, desperate to get his hands on you again.

“Of course I do, my prince. But to bed each other now, while I’m betrothed to another; it is a sin against the Seven. You know this.”

“What did I say? I will take care of it. But first, let me take care of you. I want you so badly. I’ve wanted to be buried inside you since I first laid my eye on you. Please, my love, I need more than just rubbing myself against you.” You gasped as he took hold of your hand and guided it to palm his already hardened cock, “Feel how I yearn for you?”

“I yearn for you too…” You stuttered, running your slightly trembling hand over one of his biceps while you experimentally squeezed his hardened length, causing him to let out a soft growl.

Aemond caught your lips with his once more, his breathing quickening as he felt his desire grow. “Then say yes.”

Then with a hesitant breath, you spoke, “Yes.” 

As soon as the word left your lips, Aemond found yours with a vigor you hadn’t experienced from him so far into the relationship. He was desperate, and so were you. Your shaking frame gave away how nervous you truly were, but he soothed you with his hands, running them along your uncovered skin until you relaxed for him.

Aemond kissed and nipped at your neck as he led you to your bed, slowly undoing the various buckles and laces that held his clothing together. He smiled shyly as you raked your eyes over his now naked form. Even though you’ve seen him like this before, there was a whole new element involved, knowing that you two were going to be the closest two humans could possibly be. You lifted up your hand to reach for his eyepatch, noticing his body tense but allowing you to remove it. This wasn’t new either, but it still took Aemond some getting used to being so vulnerable with someone, that little boy in him still scared that you’d be disgusted by his scar; but as you removed the piece of leather for the umpteenth time, you smiled lovingly as his sapphire glimmered in the light from your fireplace. “My beautiful prince.”

You shivered as Aemond slowly pulled your nightgown down your body, goosebumps rising all over your skin at his featherlight touches. “My beautiful lady.” He replied with a smirk, allowing his hand to lower further down until he reached the slickness that spread over your folds. “So wet for me already, darling.” He chuckled.

“It’s easy when you treat me the way that you do, my love.”

“Yes? And how do I treat you exactly?”

“...like a princess.”

Aemond gripped both of your hips tightly, pulling your body flush against his, feeling his erection prodding against your inner thigh, his eye staring down at you with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “If all goes according to plan, you will be…” He spoke ominously.

You furrowed your brows, tilting your head in confusion. “What do you-?” You squeaked as Aemond pushed his lips against yours roughly, interrupting your question and replacing any thought you may have had with pure desire. He had such power over you, you couldn’t even fight it, not that you'd want to. He moved up your body, leaving sparks in their wake, trapping your face in between them as his mouth devoured yours desperately. You moaned at his passion, feeling completely wanted and cherished and he hadn’t even done much to you yet.

You gasped as Aemond guided his throbbing length to glide against your folds, your slick creating a pleasant friction that had your prince groaning at the feeling. You held onto him tightly as he rutted against you, his cock nudging your clit with every thrust. “I-I thought…you were going t-to bed me?” You babbled mindlessly, the minute pleasure you were feeling already throwing you for a loop.

“I am, my sweet lady. I need to get you warmed up first, understand? Patience.” He lightly scolded, his tone only making you more impatient. “On the bed.” He ordered, and you obeyed diligently. You tried not to shiver as he stalked above you, like a predator cornering his prey, making you feel even more vulnerable than you already were, his one remaining eye making his gaze more intense somehow. “Spread your legs for me.” You shivered then, the slight chill in the air grazing your cunt unpleasant, but it was worth it to see Aemond’s lips twist into a proud smirk. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you, my lady?”

You watched with heavy lidded eyes as Aemond sloppily kissed up your legs and inner thighs, his long silver hair tickling your skin and the slight sandpapery feel of his chin surprising in how much you liked the sensation. Then, you felt his panting breaths on your core, jolting as he licked one long stripe along your folds. “What are you doing?” You asked in a gasp.

“I’ve read about this before. It is supposed to be pleasurable for you, my lady. Would you like me to stop?”

You shook your head. “No…please, keep going.” He smiled and dove in, using the tip of his tongue to run through your folds teasingly, barely stimulating your clit, making you whine.

“You taste divine.” Aemond moaned like he was the one being pleasured, making your face heat up. The bed shook lightly as he gently rutted into the sheets, hearing your whines and whimpers making his cock ache for attention. You let out a breathy moan as Aemond suckled at your clit, the feeling making your eyes roll to the back of your skull briefly. You couldn't stop your hips from jerking up against his mouth, but he placed his hands there to hold you down.

“Oh, gods, Aemond. Right there, please, please…” You whined, his tongue plucking your strings to perfection, making you near that euphoric crescendo way too quickly. “So close…” You babbled, unable to form a word as you neared your peak.

“Come.” Aemond ordered gruffly. “Come for me, my lady.” And with a loud, sharp cry, you came on his tongue, your senses bubbling over like boiling water. “Good girl. That’s my good girl.” He praised, soothing your overheated skin with his rough hands, pinching your pebbled nipples in fascination. He kissed your tears from your cheeks, gazing down at you in adoration, the expression directed at you almost as good as reaching a climax. “Think you’re ready for me, my love?” He asked softly, and you didn’t care how much it would hurt, you wanted him badly.

“Please…I need you, Aemond.”

You started to notice how anxious Aemond must’ve been, the way his hands trembled as he ran them over your soft skin, the way he took his breaths like he was frightened. He didn’t want to hurt you. He wanted to make your first time as painless as possible if he could, but his body was so aching and ready to take you just the way he wanted. But he restrained himself for you. He could be rough with you another time. “Tell me if it gets to be too much.” All you could do was nod.

Your own cum slick entrance wasn’t enough to prepare for how much you’d have to fit inside. You knew Aemond was well endowed, but you didn’t think you’d ever have to worry about it actually fitting inside you. You had to hold in your cries as he pushed the tip of his cock past your entrance, a heated sharp pressure building in intensity the more he pushed in. He groaned above you as you pulsed at the intrusion, but you wouldn’t dare to tell him how much it actually hurt, not when he looked so pretty like this. The pain was worth it. But after he finally bottomed out, he gave you a well needed break and the pain slowly morphed into something more. It still hurt a bit, but now you needed him to move, like you’d die if he didn’t.

Aemond gasped silently as you started to gyrate your hips, encouraging him to start moving. He started off slow at first, still worried about hurting you. But as he noticed your pained whines turning into moans of pleasure, he sped up his thrusts a bit more. He couldn’t stop the smirk that worked his way onto his features as your breasts bounced with every cant of his hips, his hand reaching out to grope them roughly. “Fuck, my love. You feel so amazing.” He panted, his skin starting to glimmer with a thin sheen of sweat.

WIth how much slick you were producing, you wouldn’t be surprised if your bed linens were ruined. You could hear yourself, you could hear where Aemond’s body met yours with each thrust. With his cockhead hitting a place deep inside you paired with the sound of the splash of your wet skin violently meeting his, you could feel that intense building sensation that you had grown so accustomed to thanks to Aemond, but it was different. You could almost feel him in your chest, he was so deep. 

You moaned and sobbed uncontrollably, your velvety walls clenching tightly around his cock, making him grunt loudly. “Oh, gods, Aemond!” You cried, almost hyperventilating due to the overwhelming pleasure. You didn’t even realize you were clawing into his shoulders until he pinned them to the mattress, forcing you still as he plowed into you, but still unable to stop the rest of your body writhing in oversensitivity. “Aemond, Aemond…” You whined, practically shaking underneath him.

Sweat dripped down Aemond’s forehead and off his nose, the fireplace roaring not helping with how much warmth the two of you were creating between your bodies. Your sweat covered bodies clung to one another, sticking you together, the filthiness of it all making it all the more passionate. “I know, my love. Hold on, I’m so close.” He panted, his thrusts becoming sloppy and erratic as he chased his end. His eye rolled to the back of his head as he was right on that edge, just one more thrust could do it, but instead he pulled out, making you whine. Aemond stroked himself quickly until he came on your stomach with a loud groan, shuddering as goosebumps rose along his skin. “Fuck…” With one final kiss to your swollen lips, he collapsed beside you, his chest rising and falling deeply in exhaustion.

You both turned towards one another as you caught your breath, a small smirk playing at the corner of Aemond’s lips. You hummed contently as he ran one of his hands up and down your upper arm, leaning into his touch like a kitten. “Are you alright, my lady?” He asked sweetly.

You nodded bashfully, teeth showing in a bright smile. “It was everything I ever dreamed of.”

Aemond leaned forward to kiss your forehead, bringing you close to his chest. “I’m glad I could be the first one to give this to you.” But the comment only made you frown.

“What happens now?”

Aemond looked down at you burrowed in his chest, an aura of confidence buried just beneath the surface of his thoughtful expression. “Let me worry about that, my love. You just sleep now. Sleep.” He cooed, and being as exhausted as you were, you had no trouble obeying him like you always had.

By the time you awoke, Aemond had already left, but not before leaving you a note saying something about his princely duties but he also took the time to remind you how much he loved you. It satisfied you anyway as you also had duties to attend to, and you could only pray to the Seven that no one important noticed your slight limp.

Meanwhile, all Aemond could think about was the night you shared together. Training was a bit more difficult in that respect, even gaining Ser Criston’s curiosity about where his head was at. He just blamed it on a restless night, which…wasn’t false. But his thoughts were also occupied by a plan that formed in his mind. This day would require luck on Aemond’s part, if he were to do this correctly. Being a son of a king, he had his ways of knowing where anyone was at any time. What he hadn’t expected, however, was his target making his way towards Aemond himself. “Lord Umber, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Aemond greeted coldly, not shying away from the lord’s attempts to appear intimidating. It was amusing, if anything. Pathetic, more like.

“I don’t know what your intentions are with my betrothed, but I would advise you stay away from her. I don’t care if you’re a prince. She’s mine, or will be very soon.”

Aemond couldn’t help but smirk, his mind conjuring up all the ways he had already made you his, right underneath this hairy oaf’s nose. “My lady does not belong to anyone but me, lord Umber.”

The larger man laughed, amused like Aemond was a child who had just told a joke. “She’s yours, is she? Sounds to me like your royal highness is jealous.” Aemond narrowed his eye. “Yes, I’ve seen you with her. The way you cling to her side like a lost pup. You just can’t imagine her being with someone else, can you? Well, don’t worry, prince Aemond. Once she’s my wife, I’ll treat her kindly on our wedding night; but just the first time. By dawn, her voice will be sore from screaming my name. She’ll have sired me an heir by the time I’m done with her.” Aemond had half a mind to slit this stupid man’s throat right then and there. How dare he speak of you that way? And as if the man couldn’t get any dumber, he continued on. “She seems so innocent, doesn’t she? I bet she’s never even tried pleasuring herself. Imagine how tight her-”

And with a swift pommel to the temple, the Northern lord was finally interrupted from his perverse rant and knocked unconscious.

Aemond hummed, staring down at the man with a certain morbid curiosity. How strange a man that burly could be rendered completely useless by just one blow to the head. It just hammered in the thought in his mind that this lord was not worthy of you. Not one bit. He’d deal with the consequences later. Right now, he needed to find you before the lord came to. And he found you fairly quickly.

“What are you doing?” You giggled nervously as Aemond dragged you to a certain part of the Keep, gasping as he pushed you up against the brick wall, the memory of being in a similar position not that long ago flashing in your mind. You hummed as he kissed you lovingly, leaving your eyes heavy lidded and pupils lust blown as he pulled away.

Aemond held up his index finger, motioning for you to wait. He looked around the corner of the somewhat secluded area of the Rep Keep, smirking furiously when he saw the Northern lord still laying in the hall right where he left him. He could wake at any moment, Aemond would have to start now. “I started to miss you as soon as I left, my love.” Aemond spoke as he found his way back to you, running his calloused hands along your sides. “Couldn’t stop picturing you split open on my cock. Need to see it again, need to feel you.”

As Aemond tried to lift up your skirts, you made a feeble attempt to stop him. “But, what if someone were to walk past? Anyone could see us?” You whisper yelled. Aemond restrained himself from rolling his eye. That’s quite the point.

“That’s why I checked if anyone was near, my love. Please, my cock aches for you.”

Oh, how could you refuse when he begged so prettily like that?

Aemond lifted up your skirts, feeling a wetness gathered at the apex of your thighs. “Do you just get wet at the sight of me, my lady?”

Your face burned like a furnace, a bashful smile on your lips. “Maybe.”

Aemond grinned, turning you so your front was pressed against the wall. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, my prince. Please, fuck me.” You whined, and he couldn’t hide his expression of pride and shock.

“Oh, you want me to fuck you, hm? Not make love to you?” He teased, talking in your ear as he undid his trousers.

You shivered, feeling the blunt tip of his cock prod at your entrance. “Yes.”

Aemond heard the faintest shuffling from the hall, halting his movements briefly. He turned to see in the corner of his eye the silhouette of lord Umber, frozen as he stared at the shocking scene before him. Aemond could only laugh under his breath as he pushed into you, smiling genuinely when you couldn’t bite back your moan. “Fuck, my love. Still just as tight as you were last night.”

You cried out as Aemond’s thrusts speed up in their pace and roughness immediately, the force jolting your whole body in place, making your breasts push against the brick wall. “Who do you belong to, my lady?” Aemond growled suddenly, marking up the skin of your neck with his teeth. “Say it! Who do you belong to, jorrāelagon?”

“You, Aemond!” You stuttered, losing yourself in the pleasure he was giving you.

“You’re mine, are you not?”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours. Only yours, my love!”

“Not that idiot Northern lord Umber?”

“No, I belong to you. I don’t want anyone else, my prince.”  You babbled, almost unable to form full sentences.

“Think he could make you feel the way I can?” Aemond hummed with a dark smirk, knowing fully well the lord could hear them. He hadn’t looked towards the burly man in a while, focusing on making you fully relent to him, forcing you to scream exactly how he’s made you his. If he could guess, the lord was probably red with rage, the thought making him pound into you faster. “Hmm? Can you not answer me, my lady? Is my cock making you feel that good?” He asked condescendingly.

“So…so good…” You moaned, peaking without any stimulation to your clit.

Aemond grunted. “You want my cum, love? You want me to fill you up?” You must’ve been out of it, because you begged him to. “Good girl. ‘M gonna give you my cum. Fuck, you’d look so beautiful carrying my child if my seed takes, wouldn’t you agree?” By that time, lord Umber was long gone, and Aemond could sense it. Now, he was just saying whatever he felt like saying for himself. The image of you married to him, carrying his Targaryen babe, made him finally let go. 

Aemond’s chest heaved against your back, sweat making your clothes stick to your bodies. “Avy jorrāelan…” He grinned at your attempt, your pronunciation was a bit off, but he couldn’t say anything when you spoke the words so sweetly.

“I love you, my lady.” He nuzzled into the back of your neck, inhaling the scent of your hair. “Mine…all mine.”

What came after that was par for the course.

Lord Umber, enraged and embarrassed, went to your father to tell him what he had seen. The Northern lord demanded a virgin, but in his eyes, what he got was a whore. It was his word against yours, a woman, so you obviously wouldn’t have been believed even if you were telling the truth. But out of pure survival instinct, you lied and denied. You would never give away your body like that, even to a prince. Your one saving grace from being scalped publicly, was prince Aemond. To get his side of the story.

“Lord Umber said that he saw you and my daughter…engaging in premarital activities.” Your father spoke, his voice unsteady in his rage.

Aemond, as calm as you ever saw him, spoke, “That is an outrageous lie. I would never defile a lady such as her.”

Lord Umber guffawed. “You lying prick. I saw you, balls deep into this whore.”

Aemond’s eye darkened, taking a step closer to the three of you. “You are a guest here, lord Umber, but you forget yourself. To spread such vile rumors against the son of the king, is treason.” And with that one word, the warmth in the air depleted, leaving a cold eerie silence in the room. “Do you know what happens to people that commit treason against the crown?” Lord Umber was uncharacteristically silent now. “On your way in from the middle of nowhere, you did notice all the heads that were stacked neatly on pikes, correct? Those were all men and women who spoke lies about us. Would you like your head to join them as well?”

The Northern lord was finally frightened into submission, but Aemond didn’t stop there.

“I shall have my grandsire arrest you and behead you on the morrow.”

“Wait, my prince!” Lord Umber called out desperately. Aemond smirked, how the big strong men fall when they’re faced with death. “Please, I take back what I said. I didn’t see anything! It must’ve been someone else. I sincerely apologize for being so quick to anger and place blame on the wrong person. Please, forgive me.” He begged.

Aemond pretended to consider the apology, but he knew what he wanted from the moment they sought him out. “I will pardon this indiscretion…but for a price.”

“Whatever it is, my prince, it shall be yours.”

“Your betrothed.”

“What?” You, your father, and lord Umber spoke at the same time.

“I will let you keep your head if you give me her. Seems to be a small price to pay, wouldn’t you agree?”

Your father and lord Umber shared looks, while you and Aemond did the same. Theirs were filled with fear and uncertainty, but yours with Aemond…pure love and respect. You didn’t even think of the means he was able to make this happen. But now, you wouldn’t have to leave for the North with a man who would never see you as his equal. Now, you have the chance to live with the love of your life for the rest of your days.

“She’s yours, my prince.” Your father announced, and you had to stop yourself from jumping with joy.

“You made the right choice. As for you, lord Umber, I want you out of King’s Landing by daybreak. If any of our guards find you after then, I’ll bring you back here and behead you myself. Are we at an understanding?”

“Yes, prince Aemond.” Lord Umber spoke, excusing himself and running with his tail between his legs. No amount of chains could hold a dragon down.

For the first time in Aemond’s life, he didn’t care that he disappointed his mother and grandsire. He gained his father’s permission and that’s all that mattered to him. Although, it wasn’t too difficult to convince a man addled on Milk of the Poppy.

That same night, Aemond came to your chambers, immediately captured in an embrace. “How?” Was all you asked.

“You know how people say Targaryens are closer to gods than men? Well, I just used some of my godly powers.” He grinned, kissing you like his life depended on it. “I hope you aren’t upset with me.”

You huffed incredulously. “Why would I be? Aemond, you save me from a miserable existence in the North. I can’t thank you enough. If you hadn’t done what you did, I’m sure my father would’ve found me another lord so he could fill his pockets.” 

Aemond lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his bright eye. “You won’t have to deal with your father any more, my love. I’ll take care of you. And I will not let anything or anyone come between us. I swear it.”

Finally, Aemond was all yours, and you were his; now and forever.

yeah, i rushed the ending so i could finally finish this. WHAT OF IT???

[hoshigray]

i imagine getting all drunk and fucked out just by making out with toji 😩

ANOOOOON, how'd you know I'm a sucker for kisses/makeout sessions >:00 I immediately thought of a scenario like coming back from a date with him and then just.....this has me so flustered LMAO just read!! Also, the first thirst to write for, let's goooo!! Hope you like this one *sweats* Cw: Toji x reader - kissing - ass grabbing (we all know this mf is handsy) - grinding - heavy explicit descriptions of kissing (tongue, sucking, etc.) - PDA/makeout in public (??) - pet names (baby, pumpkin, sweetheart, sweetie, sweet thing) - Toji being soft yet he's still a menace - mention of drool/saliva. Wc: 989

When is it the right time to kiss?

It's a question that's bothered you since the car ride home. Even now, when walking up the steps to your apartment door with Toji following you after a lovely date.

If this were like any ordinary date, the person you're with would expect something in return, right? You can't quite say the same for Toji; even when you spot his eyes peering into you as if he's ready to pin you down somewhere, he still respects your space as the date continues.

This still brings you back to questioning if you should be the one to initiate or not. Will there be a perfect moment? But what if—

"Hey. Isn't your door right here?"

You stop walking and turn behind to see Toji standing beside your apartment door, too deep in your thoughts to realize you had walked past it. You laugh at yourself. "Yes, that would be mine."

Toji scoffs with a smirk. "Silly thing." He watches you sheepishly walk back to the front of your door, stopping between the hard surface and the tall man behind you to unlock the doorknob. "Had a good time, sweetheart?"

"I had a great time." You reply. "Did you?"

"Always havin' a good time when I'm with you, sweet thing." He smiles when you giggle. "You looked so good, ya know. So fuckin' pretty."

It's hard to look at him, so your eyes dart down to the ground to calm the heat growing in your cheeks. "Thanks." You mumble modestly.

Toji lets out a hearty laugh. "Whatcha shy for?" He brings a big hand to your chin and pulls you back to his face. "Gotta let my sweetie know they're lookin' good."

Your chuckle is nervous, but your eyes show gratitude. His hand slides to your cheek, and yours comes up to place on top of his. "Thank you, Toji."

"No need, baby."

Silence fills the air between you. His forest-green eyes hone in on your face. Your lips.

Wait. Is...this happening right now?

You see him lean forward to you, and your breath is hitched.

Oh fuck, this is really happening!

You quickly closed your eyes before his lips pressed into yours, body staying still for the moment. Oh, you were not prepared for this. It's only for a few seconds before Toji lifts his head away do you open your eyes again.

"Heh, did I make the wrong move?" His words were meant to light up the tension, along with the thumb that strokes your cheek. You shake your head. His eyes narrow with a raised brow. "Mind I do it again, baby?" His voice goes down a whisper, but the husky tone makes you faintly bite your lip.

You nod slowly. Upon closing your eyes once more, Toji grins, inclining back on your soft lips. You moan when he draws his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in with your hands to his shoulders to keep you steady.

With your back on the door, Toji brings a leg between yours, keeping you posted against him with his free hand reeling you from the back. Your lips slip away from him, calling out to him in a whimper, and the older man's resistance withers away.

Hungry lips ravage your tender ones, and your legs almost lose balance. Your moans only fuel him to deepen the kiss, tilting his head for a better angle. "Mmmph, taste s' good, sweet thing," Toji soothed between smooches, lightly sucking your tongue before shoving his back inside.

Your mind starts to go fuzzy, your limbs trembling like jelly under his bow, and your eyes begin to water with how hard you've kept them shut. Your hands shift to his back, gripping the black dress shirt that covers his well-sculpted muscles.

And it doesn't help that his leg is between yours; your core forced to grind on his sturdy thigh, rocking with your humps to further the heat drawing south. His big hands roam down and grope your behind. The suggestive moans and groans fill the open space, and you hope your neighbors aren't listening to you becoming a mewling mess in this messy makeout session.

But it feels way too good to stop. Being close and exchanging tongues with the man you're attracted to has you drunk on this euphoric feeling, and the arousing throbbing sensation keeps growing. It all feels too exhilarating. Too ecstatic. Too fucking good.

On Toji's end, he doesn't give a shit if the other residents listen to you two. All that matters now is having you in his hold like this, turning you into mush under him and only for him. Kneading your ass with his skillful hands, your wails are taken by his mouth. He has no plan to let this moment end and no care for anyone.

Well, minus you when he feels you tap at his back frantically, realizing he hasn't let you take a proper breath in almost a minute. Oh shit. When he finally breaks the kiss, you're gasping heavily for air around you, watery eyes shot open. A string of saliva snaps to remove the connection between the pairs of lips.

Your wet eyes are half-hooded with scrunched brows, a trail of drool evident from your panting mouth, and your face so hot casting a dazed expression. The grin on Toji's face gets broader from your intoxicating display.

"Sorry 'bout that, baby." He kisses your forehead and massages your rear.

"What? For trying to kill me with a kiss?" You joke under breathless giggles while wiping the saliva off. Toji snickers and places your head on his chest, resting his chin atop your head.

"Death by my lips, huh? Hmph, you'd have it way easier than most people I deal with." The two of you sway side to side. "And I wouldn't mind getting lost in your cute lips again sometime, pumpkin."

omfg, I could write more of this all day, but we'd be here for too long LOL

[grippingbeskar]

duality

: ̗̀➛ joel miller x fem!reader

warnings: explicit content 18+ (mxf, f receiving, dirty talk, joel being a king as per usual) swearing, mentions of death, mentions of canon typical violence!

a/n: hii! this was based on this request right here - oh my god. i am obsessed with this, i really hope i did this justice! i kind of just started writing and went where it took me lmao. its all just smut at this point so like don't look to hard. also thank you to @everybirdfellsilent for the title name and answering my question "how do i write this?" with a simple "why not write both?!" you are a queen.

✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩‧₊ ₊‧ ✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩‧₊ ₊‧ ✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩

“Joel… what time is it?” You keep your eyes screwed shut when you begin to fight the muddiness of deep sleep away, but the early morning sunlight in Jackson always sneaks it’s way through. You stretch out, reaching for him in a natural reflex, and instead of answering you he just presses closer. You keep your eyes shut, letting your other senses guide your hands to his shoulders, enjoying the feeling of him under your palms.

You could hardly open your eyes right now, but you could do this. Lay here with him— you could do that easily. You and Joel had a string of long days recently, and you’d hoped, or at the very least expected that he’d be so tired he’d sleep up until the last possible second.

Apparently you were wrong, as you feel him shift under your hands to the point you lose your hold on him. He kisses you once on the lips, light and feather soft, and you smile sleepily, toes curling at the gentle touch.

“Mornin’.” His voice rumbles through you, low and brassy, waking your bones before your brain could catch up. As his hair tickles the skin of your neck, you can feel him moving lower, the warmth of his body leaving your chest and hovering over your stomach.

You reach for him blindly, and he guides you back even when you sit up on your elbows and peak one eye at him. You watch him move, his own eyes still half lidded, but his hands more awake than ever. They slowly slide over your hips, drawing faint patterns with his fingertips. The warmth of his rough palms move further up over your tummy, pawing at you to lay down on your back. ‘Relax’, he whispers, and your chest tightens. He moves you languidly, using your half conscious state to mould you where he wants to put you, and you let him, no resistance in your muscles.

With a hand still sliding up and down your bare skin, he leans down close enough you can feel the touch of his nose on your cheek. Before you can move to take control, he dips his head. First down to your jaw, the heat of his mouth making you shiver when he kisses along all the sensitive spots. He’s light and quick, your delayed reactions making it easy for him to move without interruption. You wonder how long he’d been awake. Waiting for you to stir, just so he could see you squirm.

His tongue licks indulgent lines further down your body, teasing your skin with his lips following suit. He starts at your collarbone, then tucks the fabric of your shirt higher so he can see you bare below him. The blanket covers over his head, but the light is strong enough that you can see his eyes watching your reaction as he plants soft kisses down your chest. You swear he smirks when you arch your back, nearly groaning at the light but not nearly enough pressure.

Your hands finally wake themselves when he mouths at the skin of your lower stomach, brushing through the soft curls on the top of his head. He hums against you, eyes flicking up with warmth lining them, and smiles slightly. The sight tugs at a string of your racing heart, and you keep your voice low when you manage to speak.

“Joel, let me…” You fade off, eyes fluttering as you attempt to bring him back up to you. You want him to feel good too— so as much as you love where this is going, you know the two of you can’t have very long this morning, and you want to make the most of it. “C’mere.”

He shakes his head, mouth too busy to reply as it dives into the newly exposed skin of your thighs. At some point he’d taken your underwear off— or maybe he’d done it in your sleep, making sure you were ready for him in the morning.

You’d both been exhausted last night, so as badly as you’d wanted him, you knew neither of you could keep your eyes open for more than twenty seconds. Joel had grumbled a few curse words at how he couldn’t even hold himself up, and as soon as your heads hit the pillow, and you curled in on his chest light a weighted blanket, you were both out like a light.

Joel was clearly making up for lost time. Slowly, he spreads your legs, his hot breath fanning against your core. The feeling makes you unconsciously try to close yourself from him— the feeling and the way his eyes were staring so intensely at the most intimate part of you.

“Joel, come here—“ You try again, and his hair brushes the inside of your thighs when his head shakes again. His eyes look to you, and they almost look… pleading.

“Please, baby. I need this. Let me.” He sounds half broken— his voice cracking and hands gripping your hips. His hold wasn’t harsh, still keeping those gentle, sweet touches he’d started with, but it was enough to hold you down and keep you right where he had you. “I’ll make you feel so good, I swear. So… so fuckin’ good. Don’t I always?”

His shoulders press you open wider, leaving no room for insecurity. You just nod your head as he stares up at you, wide eyed, waiting for permission. The lines of concern in his forehead disappear when he sees you agree, chest deflating like he was relieved.

He drags the tip of his nose lightly along your inner thigh, and you can feel your legs already shaking in anticipation. It was one thing Joel did so well; he almost didn’t know he did it. Making you wait. All day, he would work you up so subtly— soft touches, intense stares across the field. Words whispered only to you, so any reaction you had would seem out of line. And then here… indulging his every want and need while you sat patiently, waiting for him to decide when, and where, and how.

You’d do it over and over again, because you knew what came of it. What came when you did exactly what he wanted. Sometimes it was fun to fight him back, be a bit of a brat about it, but right here, when he was working you up so nice and asking so desperately— there wasn’t a damn thing in the world worth that.

“Fuck, baby you’re so pretty.” His teeth replace his nose, tracing the same line along the opposite thigh. His fingers massage circles into your hips as he feels you fidget and shake, the world still spinning slowly above you. “You’re gonna take it so well for me this mornin’, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah. A-anything you want. I just—“ Your breath hitches when he kisses closer to where you’re all but aching for him, right in the join between your leg and pussy. “I need—“

He groans into you, never giving you a chance to finish your sentence as he buries his tongue between your legs. You cry out louder than you mean to, the hand not buried in Joel’s messy hair slapping over your open mouth. Joel smiles against you, tongue swirling around your clit in the way he knows makes you dizzy with pleasure.

Everything was too hot. It was winter in Jackson, snow falling gently onto the windowsill, but the blanket over you mixed with the heat Joel was spreading up your stomach was too much. Your back arched and he took the change in direction with eagerness. Groaning your name, he flattened his tongue and caught your eyes before they rolled back into your head, his eyebrows furrowed and concentrated.

“Oh, god… Joel. Joel, Joel—“ It was all you could think of to say, the pleasure shooting white hot sparks up your spine and sliding you further down the bed into Joel’s onslaught.

He was messy. Joel ate you out with an enthusiasm you never found anywhere else. Maybe it was the fact that there was nothing good outside the four walls you’d both found yourself in, the rest of the world cold compared to the warmth of your bed— or maybe he just fucking loved it as much as he always said.

Whether he did this for you or for himself, Joel knew exactly how to build you up; it was so quick you couldn’t prepare for it. His hands held your hips tight as you squirmed— grinding your hips forward to match his pace as he let you use him to chase your release. The sounds he was making were only spurring you closer— slurred words of praise hardly audible, his voice horse and breaking like he could hardly manage them.

“Good— fuck, you taste good.” Each word is muffled underneath you, but it hits you hard in the chest. Being praised by anyone made your heart flutter, but when it was Joel? Capable, stoic, hard-as-nails Joel? It was entirely different. A whole other ball game. And he fucking knew it. “You close, baby. Fuck, I know you gotta be. So tight…”

“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m so close…” You whimper and he hums in response, the vibrations pushing you over the edge. Your fingers gripped his hair harshly, his mouth only working harder to keep its lock on you. He wrapped his lips around your clit, eyes fluttering open halfway to watch you, and the sight is what undid you.

“That’s it. Fuck, there’s those eyes…” You hear Joel mutter but you can’t form words to reply. Everything was on fire, your stomach locking tight as the waves of pleasure wrapped you into a ball and burst over every inch of skin. It was cliche, but it felt like fucking fireworks went off in your chest, Joel’s hands an anchor keeping you from taking off with them.

He was halfway up your body when you came back to it, kissing and touching you so gently you could have cried if you had the energy. It was moments like these that he was the most vulnerable— where he couldn’t get enough of you, indulged himself in you, but did it with such sweetness and… well, love, that you knew the man he didn’t think he was anymore was still in there.

“So pretty. Sound so damn pretty when you cum for me.” He whispers against your mouth before kissing you hungrily. It’s teeth and tongue, a mix of you and him on your lips as he pulls away to look at you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth.

Your hands reach down to tug lightly at his boxers, and he huffs, shaking his head against your mouth.

“M’not done, baby.” His voice makes you shiver all over again, pleasure still stirring low and hot in your tummy. “S’fuckin’ good.”

“I can’t, Joel…” You whimper, his hand ever so slightly brushing between your legs. You jolt upwards, your body betraying your words.

“Yeah, you can. You can f’me, yeah?” He was already moving down, ignoring your whines as he made his way back to his favourite spot in this house. He was quicker this time, knowing you’d still be sensitive.

It was addicting. He couldn’t get enough of the sounds you made, the way you tasted— it was like the best game he’d ever played. Joel was an adrenaline junkie— he knew it. He was smart about it, but he longed for that rush of endorphins when he was winning a fight or putting bullets into bodies. Out of all the shit he’d done, though, nothing compared to this. The best adrenaline rush he’d ever felt was right here, hearing you scream his name as he tasted every fucking inch you of he could manage.

He was messier this time. Wrapping his mouth around you and swirling his tongue in quick, mind-numbing movements that had your fingers burying deeper into his hair. He nearly came at the feeling of it— you, trying your hardest not to hurt him but still yanking him into you, hardly giving him an inch to pull away. Not that he’d every fuckin’ dream of being dragged away from you now.

“Joel… too much. Fuck— I’m…I—“ He bucked his hips against the mattress, the way you whine his name is like a stab at his chest every time. His nose brushes against your clit again as he tastes you deeper, your voice broken and tapering off into barely there words.

He knows you’d stop him if it was really too much. He knows if he pulled away right now you’d drag him right back where he wants to be, where he knows he’s fucking good at being. Joel wants you closer— all day, he can’t fucking find it in himself to drag you under his arm or kiss you like he wants in front of all those people.

He was too possessive.

None of them get to see you like this, how your eyes get all soft when he kisses you, and how you sigh his name when your body moulds to his. No one else gets to see this. He’s the only one that can break you like this. So when he has you? He doesn’t stop until you make him.

“Just a little more f’me.” Joel’s low, cracking tone sends a violent wave of pleasure skittering across your stomach, butterflies erupting at the sound of him.

His movements weren’t timed anymore, still just as indulgent, but he was losing his control. His hands were tighter now, fighting against the surges of your body off the mattress. You hoped it would leave marks behind— proof of how badly he’d needed you this morning. How much he wanted you to Stay. Put.

“Baby, I can’t—“ You choke out, a hold on his hair so hard you swear you might rip it out.

“Mmhmm.” Is all he rumbles against you, and you think he speeds up, or does something different, or maybe he just looks at you again— because you drown in the onslaught of whatever it was as you feel the familiar rush of pleasure all over again.

This was something different. Everything tightened and released, and you could feel how wet you were— a damp mess underneath you only present when you could feel your heart begin to slow again. Joel doesn’t move from his spot, arms still wrapped around your thighs, fingers drawing slow circles into the shaking muscles.

“God, baby. Fuckin’… never get tired of seein’ that.” He wasn’t looking at you, at anything really. His eyes were shut, forehead pressed to your inner thigh as he tried and failed to catch his breath. “You feel good? You there?”

“Mm.” You push out, feeling the warmth of his laugh between your legs. “Can’t… can’t feel my legs.”

“S’okay. You’re not goin’ anywhere.” His eyes open again, half lidded, and he begins a slow descent, mouthing the bruises he’s left behind as he sinks down. Your back bends off the bed, but he presses you down with a gentle hand. “Lie back.”

“Joel… wait, I can’t. I—“ You can’t talk between small, shuddering breaths, and he just shakes his head, looking at the mess you’ve left behind.

“Keep sayin’ that, but here you are.” He stops, hovering over your stomach; waiting. Waiting for you to tell him to stop for real.

“Lemme keep goin’, darlin’. Just a little…” He groans at the way your hips shift lower, closer to his mouth despite your words. “Fuck. Little more. Need this.”

His nose brushes against your clit as he looks up, holding your eyes as he spits slowly down your centre.

“You like it, don’t you?” He says, a smile on his face even when his voice wavers. You whine, maybe in protest or impatience, but he coos at you either way. “I know. Shh. I know, baby. Just stay right…here.”

You think you black out when his mouth wraps around you again, sounds and colours all blending together in your mind in a way that nothing makes sense except for the way his tongue feels on you. Minutes or hours could go by— every responsibility you might have drifting to the back burner when he was here. Right here.

“M’right here. Never lettin’ you go.” He groans, his hips grinding into the soft covers, and you give in, knowing he’s got you.

✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩‧₊ ₊‧ ✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩‧₊ ₊‧ ✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩

It might of been a good morning, but it was another shitty day.

Winter in Jackson was good and bad. Good, because clickers and runners couldn’t make their way through the thick snow, and froze before they ever got close to the gates. It meant less patrols, less waste of resources, less need for supply runs; it was the closest to normal you got.

Bad, because while clickers weren’t made for the heavy fall of winter, neither were the fucking fences.

Everything broke down, cracked and froze during winter. There wasn’t a single area that didn’t need repairs, so while you weren’t needed on patrols, it meant you’d be out in the field, dragging plywood or banging nails into something. Even with all the hours you'd spent on your area, it felt like there was still miles to go, your hands aching by the time you found a minute to rest.

You could see Joel the entire day, too, which only made it worse for your wandering mind.

You could see him getting pissed off, ordering the young guys he’d been posted with around and up ladders. You know he’d want to relieve all that built up tension when he got home. Sometimes it was a matter of talking it out, listening in a way Joel wasn’t really used to before you. Other times you sat in silence, pressed up behind him in a steaming bath until you could hear his breath start to slow.

Today, you had a feeling it would be something a little different.

You hadn’t gotten to continue things at all this morning. By the time Joel dragged himself away from between your legs, he was already 45 minutes late to his post. Still, he walked you into the shower, holding you up on wobbly legs, trying his best not to get too distracted with how you kept kissing his jaw and looking up at him all innocent. He managed to get you dressed, too, and with no time to spare he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and all too suddenly you were standing out in the snow, alone.

So that, and the fact you could see, and sometimes even hear his low voice grumbling orders all day was doing nothing to help your focus.

When you finally saw the sun begin to go down, you didn’t spare a second before you all but sprinted off, bursting through the door of your shared home. You quickly shook off your clothes, the warmth of your house making you strip down to just one of Joel’s old t-shirts. Now, you waited.

When the door burst open a few hours later, you were like a dog hearing a lead. You jumped out of the bed, watching Joel from the top of the stairs as he carefully stepped through the threshold. He’d found the carpets laying on your floor for you a few months ago, and he knows how much you love them, so he balances on one leg as best he can to take his muddy, snow covered shoes off before he called out to you.

“You home, darlin’?” He kept his voice soft in case you were sleeping, but smiled when he caught you basically hanging over the stairs. “There she is.”

“You’re late.” You say, squinting down at him with a smile and your arms crossed.

“Didn’t realise I had a curfew.” He smirked, shaking off his jacket and abandoning it over the couch. Playful Joel was one of your favourites. It made you as warm as the crackling fire behind you.

“Well, you do. And you’re late, so better get moving.” He raises his eyebrows, a bigger smile playing on his face as he walks to the bottom of the stairs.

“You know, I was gonna cook you dinner and everythin'. Do a real nice thing here. How longs it been since we did that?” He walks slow, every step groaning under the weight of him. Your heart swells at the idea, and if you weren’t so hell bent on jumping on him, you’d take him up on it.

"That sounds n-nice." You take a step back as he gets closer, something about him still intimidating you- even when you knew the man underneath. “Plenty of time to eat tomorrow, though."

When he finally clears the stairs, you don’t have time to blink before he’s surging in front of you. His hands find their home on your hips, staying light when they pull you toward him and make up the rest of the small distance between you. He must remember how hard he held you down this morning.

“Is that my shirt?” He mumbles into your hair, already knowing the answer. He nudges your face to his own, smirking confidently. "You miss me that bad?"

“Nope. It’s Mark’s from today. I just got sooo hot lifting all those planks of wood I had to take all my clothes off, so he—“ You’re cut off by your own squeal when he lifts you up, hands gripping your ass tightly.

“Very fuckin’ funny.” Joel growls low in your ear, but you can feel him smiling against your skin as he walks you to your bedroom, kissing you dizzy.

It’s a little embarrassing how easily he drives you to the brink. All he has to do is say your name a few times, whisper it against your skin, and kiss you like this, and you’re gone again. His. You’re his to mould and bend, your arms lifting as he drags the fabric of his old shirt up your stomach and chest.

He watches with an intense stare, goosebumps rising where the fabric brushes lightly over your sensitive skin. When he finally slips the shirt over your head his control snaps and he’s on top of you, and he’s everywhere.

His hands slide up your sides, spanning the entire space of your waist and ribs, coming over your chest and cupping your breasts in his hands. You arch your back, chasing his mouth as it presses hungry, quick kisses between movements, his fingers catching over your nipples making you moan his name.

“Thought about you all day.” You confess, nipping the skin of his jaw. He huffs a breath, your hands tangling once again in his hair. It’s still slightly wet from the cold, curling around your fingers in something like ringlets. “Needed you so bad, Joel.”

“Greedy little thing. Didn’t get enough this morning?” He laughs, and it's almost mean- teasing. You roll your hips into him slowly. It wipes the smirk off his face, turning it into an almost painful scrunch of his brow. “Fuck.”

“You didn’t let me touch you.” You whine, rolling into him again. He drops to hold himself up on his forearms, hands touching you where they can reach. “Always want to touch you, Joel.”

“Shit, you gotta stop talking like that or…” You repeat the slow movement of your hips, and he runs out of words, practically whining into your mouth.

“It’s true.” You bite his bottom lip, a little harder than necessary. “Wanna fuck you all the time. It’s distracting. Always… always think about it.”

Joel moans your name brokenly, and you take your chance. A small push with your leg collapses him on his back next to you, only that easy because he wasn’t expecting it. He’s sitting with his back against the headboard, and before he can shuffle down you straddle him, locking him in place underneath you.

One of his hands grabs the back of your neck, hauling you to his mouth, and you let him take control. You might be sitting on top of him, fiddling with his belt and tugging his pants down, but he is still in control. You know he could flip the switch in a second, and he’s just indulging you, but you take what you can get.

It’s so rare he lets you take care of him. You could count on one hand how many times he’s really let you do the work, but when the opportunity comes, you were going to take it and run with it.

He was still searching your body, fanning out his fingers and running them down your spine, leaning you closer. He takes off his shirt so he can feel you against him, his tongue licking into your mouth like he needs to learn you inside and out. When you finally get his pants off, you don’t waste a second, both of you gasping when you feel the thick head of him against your heat.

“H-hold on, you gotta… Jesus Christ.” Joel curses, his forehead pressed to yours. “Let me get you ready for me.”

“Mm-mm. Ready. Please…need it.” You shake your head, angling your hips just right, and he slumps forward in something like defeat when your hand snakes down and presses him inside of you. “Oh, god.”

"Fuck. Slow down, baby. Nice and slow." He stutters out, his hands coming to your hips to try and hold you up. Joel was... big. Big enough to the point where you should of taken your time, worked yourself up a bit more, but you just wanted him so bad-- "Hey, look at me."

Your eyes flutter up to him, and he kisses you quickly, like its an apology. You stay there, feeling the slight sharp pain fade quickly with how desperate you want him, how fucking wet you were already. In a few seconds you try to move again, and Joel's hands tighten around you.

"You can stop, baby. It's okay, you--"

"No! Don't want to. Just... fuck me, Joel." You say a little harsher, shaking your head where its now tucked into the crook of his neck. You sink down further against the push of his hands, and he groans your name lowly as you feel him split you open, taking the last inch of him.

Your hands were still tangled in his hair, and where you were rendered speechless, he couldn't seem to shut himself up.

"Fuck. So fuckin' tight, Christ." You feel his palm on your ass, pushing you forward just slightly, creation a friction that has you whining. "Yeah, I know baby. Feels good. Fuck, you feel so good."

When you don't feel that pain anymore, you start to grow desperate for more. Joel was right. You were greedy tonight, and the friction of your hips against his just wasn't enough. You wrap your arms around his neck, shutting up his rambling with a lazy kiss, and use him to rise up just a little, before sinking down again.

He says something into your mouth, but the words are lost when you begin to repeat the same motion over and over again. Heat builds in waves, crashing higher and higher in your stomach until it makes your toes curl, your jaw dropping open to moan a broken version of Joel's name.

Your eyes roll back, head falling to the side, leaving you open to Joel's mouth who sucks harsh marks just below your jaw. You know you'll be covered in them tomorrow, but right now you don't care. You can't seem to care about anything else, except the way Joel is buried so deep inside you, you swear you can feel him everywhere.

"Focus on me. Need to see those pretty eyes, girl." He nudges you straight, your neck no longer able to support the weight of your head as it falls forward to rest on Joel. He groans again, matching your pace with his own movements, and you get louder with the added force. "Fuck, that's it. Let 'em hear you."

Everything turns molten inside of you, liquid heat spreading from the tips of your toes to your heavy head, and if Joel wasn't fucking you back so hard you don't think you'd be upright. As soon as he was inside you, you lost all sense of direction and control, like your body knew to trust him, to give yourself over to him.

His hands wrap tightly around your waist, bodies pressed together as he takes the work out of it for you. You move together— you’re so close you don’t have a choice, and when the hot, tingling feeling ripples up your spine you can only do exactly what he’s telling you.

“Take it, baby. Take it. Good— fuck, good girl.” His head drops from where it was pressed heavy against your forehead, dipping into the crook of your neck. Your palms can feel the release in his back, the way he relaxes as he finally gives himself to you. The noise he makes, and how he almost whines your name is a calling card, hauling you over the edge with him.

He rides it out. Makes it linger, all the pleasure and relief flooding your body in burning waves, and when his hips start to slow, his mouth trails kisses from your neck, all the way up your jaw and to your mouth. He breathes in when you breathe out, both of you wiped from exhaustion, but he can’t pull himself away.

It was like this morning, how even though his back was cramped and he was late as fuck to work, he couldn’t stop. At the expense of himself, he’d starve himself of everything if it meant being here with you.

“Christ, darlin’. Fuck, you’re so good t’me.” He says it like it’s a bad thing— words laced with an anxious wave, like you’d realise it wasn’t right, and leave. Even with him still buried inside of you. “Look at me.”

Your eyes blink open, hands still tangled in the curls of his hair. You can’t tell him all the things you want to— how he deserves this. How much you want to give him, and how if anything, you were the one who didn’t deserve this. Instead, you smile at him, and it seems to say everything all at once.

“You okay?" Joel's muffled voice asks, holding you tightly against him.

"Mhmm." You hum happily, a sleepy smile on your face as his hands cup your face. You feel his thumbs trace the high points of your cheeks, and his lips press to your nose before your eyes open.

You stay right there, his eyes watching you with no real purpose, just taking in the sight of you here with him. When the two of you finally muster the energy to go down stairs, Joel follows through with his promise to cook for you, and for this first time all day, your complete attention is captured.

[poisonous-honey]

Soul Crushing Guilt

(This is a re-upload: Originally posted to UniverseUchu on December 2nd, 2022)

You've treated them all like toys. In your defence this was just another video game to you a couple of weeks ago, but they're actually real with thoughts and feelings of their own. You don't know how to feel.

Who’s Here! Venti

Contains: isekai reader, Self Aware Genshin (not the Cult SAGAU), Insecurities (reader), Hurt/Comfort I guess it’s called

Note: I will say this takes place in the middle of a story, but it works on its own and I really liked how this turned out. I do have more written, but it's incomprehensible (even after a whole year it's still incomprehensible lmao)

Sitting on the cliffside of Starsnatch is not where you intended to be at this time, but your guilt and insecurities have led you here. You needed to be away from all the positivity from everyone in Mondstadt. Their kindness was only worsening your mood. Staring over the edge, lost deep inside your head, you almost miss the way the wind whirls around you before you hear the one person you wanted to avoid the most right now.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Why’d you leave without saying anything? Everyone back at Mond is worried, you know.”

You don’t say anything in response and let Venti walk up and sit next to you. You both stay silent and watch the waves crash onto the beach. Venti occasionally takes glances in your direction, but for the most part his eyes are on the scenery. After a few minutes, he tries asking you again.

“I know you told us that we aren’t overwhelming you, but please, if we actually are-”

“That’s not the reason I left Venti.”

“Then what is it?”

Silence is all that greets him. “Please, we just want you to be comfortable with us. We can’t help if we don’t know.”

Hearing him say that only makes you feel more guilty. They’re all so nice to you, and for what? The pressure and the guilt keeps building and building the more you stay here. Everyone’s been so understanding and kind, but all you’ve done before is use them any which way. You’ve judged them for superficial reasons and have even gotten them killed on numerous occasions. Venti showing up and putting the blame on himself and the others like they’re the reason you left just adds onto your shame as tears start to escape your eyes.

Upon seeing your eyes water, Venti slightly panics. “W-Wait, why are you crying!? I’m sorry for whatever-”

“Venti please stop.”

You turn to look Venti in the eyes, and see the panic and worry etched onto his face. It only makes you feel worse.

“Venti… Why are you here? Why do you keep following me?’ You look away from him, trying to keep from balling on the spot. ‘Why are you so nice to me?”

Hearing this, Venti’s face slowly scrunches in confusion. “What do you mean? Of course, I’m going to be nice to you. Where is this coming from?”

“You were conscious the entire time I was playing. I used you all like you were dolls for my amusement. After I got you, didn’t you feel like I was holding you captive or-or like some sort of toy forced to do my bidding? I don’t understand why no one hates me! I feel so guilty of everything I’ve said and done, but everyone’s apologizing to me like they’re in the wrong, and I don’t get it! Especially you! As the God of Freedom, don’t you hate me for taking away your own freedom from you? I just don’t understand… So why…” Unable to continue, you look away as you try to wipe your eyes and wait for Venti to finally tell you he hates you. That he’s going to stop pretending and get up and leave you alone. In your mind you know he would never, that's not who he is, but fear and anxiety is irrational.

Your breath hitches as you feel his hands land on your cheeks and turn your head to look at him. Instead of the disgust or apathy your heart was expecting, Venti’s face is filled with sorrow.

“I can’t believe you would think so low of me.’ He looks downwards and wipes away a few tears with his thumbs before looking back at you with nothing but care. ‘I guess from your point of view that’s a reasonable assumption to make, but you seem to be forgetting one key detail.”

You stare at him as he proceeds to give you the smuggest look you’ve ever seen on him. “I came home extremely early on my banner, didn’t I?”

What he’s saying doesn’t make any sense to you. He’s already treating you extremely differently than you anticipated, and now his question is putting your already malfunctioning brain into overdrive. What did his banner have to do with anything?

“What? Venti I-I don’t understand. What are you trying to…’ Finally, it all starts to click into place as your eyes widen, and his stupid grin gets larger. ‘You… Did you influence the banner wishes???”

Venti laughs joyously as he lets go of your face. His eyes sparkle like he’s recounting the best moment of his life.

“Why yes, I did! I actually got in a lot of trouble for that! It's part of the reason you lost the next 50/50, but I couldn’t miss the chance to join your team. I refused to wait another second.”

“But why? I still don’t under-”

“I have the freedom to make my own choices, do I not? I wanted to join your team, so I did.”

His expression changes from smug to such a soft look. You have a hard time believing it is being directed at you.

“Why, yes, I may be the God of Freedom, but I’m also simply one of the many characters this game has to offer. I’m one of your many characters in particular. And out of such a colourful cast of individuals, I was your favourite. To be the reason someone even downloaded our game in the first place sends me over the moon. For everyone else, you still give their lives a purpose and have earned everyone’s respect. Sure, you might be a bit crass, but even when you were rude or made a mistake, you still treated everyone with more care than necessary. I especially could feel and hear the level of adoration you had for me through the screen. To me, there’s nothing I want more than to travel by your side for as long as you’ll have me.”

Such a heartwarming and earnest speech from Venti has your eyes start to water again. Not all of your insecurities and guilt have been lifted, you don’t think that kind of guilt will be something you can get rid of, but with Venti here…

“You’re allowed to stay for as long as you want.”

He cups your cheeks again while looking straight into your eyes.

“Then till death do we part, my dear player.”

You break down and cry as Venti pulls you in for a hug. With Venti by your side, you know he’ll help you through your guilt with as much care and love as you’ve given him.

[back2bluesidex]

Your Lips, My Lips - Apocalypse - JHS (18+)

Pairing: Demi God!Hoseok X Fem!Reader

Theme: Angst, explicit SMUT, open ending, fantasy au

Wordcount: 2.0k

Summary: You are lonelier than anyone he has ever witnessed. Your loneliness comes with an intensity that matches his, maybe that’s why he is so attracted to you? Maybe that’s why he wants to give you his final moments of existence?

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, loneliness, kind of philosophical, explicit sex, unprotected sex (it's a no no), it's kind of sad. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: It's my man's birthday in less than 24 hours! Yoo-hoo! *sigh* only if he knew that I exist and I love him with my everything. *another sigh* but it's okay! Jung Hoseok, I love you regardless. And I hope you are happy and healthy.

and to my precious readers. hope you guys enjoy this short babie. let me know how is it, if you want! (also if you feel this is My Demon coded then that's right. But I haven't even watched the drama lmao!)

Hoseok can’t read humans’ minds and he thinks it's a handicap. 

No matter how much he loathes the fact, he, still, is a demi-god. One prefix in his title has pushed him down in the hierarchy, taken away his right of authority, his right of serving the verdict and he hates it all. 

But what he hates the most is that he is left with this half-assed power of sensing despair in humans but is totally unable to do anything about it. 

His hand itches to right all wrongs whenever he comes across something that should not be happening, that should be mended by the gods above. On those occasions, he curses those so-called gods a little more than usual. 

What did they say? That Hoseok meddles too much in human business? Just because he saved a 5 years old from a deadly accident? That he has no right to change their fate? That he is just a lowly god that is not even worshiped? That he is to be perished into ash as soon as he changes another human's life directly or indirectly? 

Huh! As if he cares. 

He actually does. Not that he is scared of turning into scattered dust and disappearing into air, but he wants to change someone’s life before he does. 

If he is going to disappear, then he might as well do something worthy of disappearing. 

Like getting to know you, offering you with his company and changing your fate of being alone even if it’s just for a night. 

It has been 2157 years since Hoseok has descended to earth and he has been keeping receipts of every single day. 

He has come across a lot of humans and their despair but he hasn’t done anything. He held himself back and waited for that one final occasion. 

He knew that final occasion was going to be you as soon as his eyes landed upon your figure a year ago. 

That day, he walked into this dimly lit pub to enjoy a glass of whiskey that he came to love so much and to observe some humans for his own record. 

That was then, you walked in. 

More beautiful than some of the goddesses they worship, more mysterious than those unearthly creatures and you made him more intrigued than he had been for 2156 years of his time on earth.  

And also, you are lonelier than anyone he has ever witnessed. Your loneliness comes with an intensity that matches his, maybe that’s why he is so attracted to you? Maybe that’s why he wants to give you his final moments of existence? 

Just like any other Friday night, you are sitting in your usual spot. Tonight you have chosen Gin and Lime to be your companion. 

You look as unapproachable as ever, so much so that even Hosekok feels weak on his knees while gliding smoothly towards you. 

Your eyes are trained on your smartphone when Hoseok slips beside you and heaves a little “hey” to grab your attention. 

You look up at him, your eyes meet him and he knows he is going to be one of those very few lucky men whom you don’t ignore.  

And then you smile, an unusual, non-formalitic and genuine one, and greet him back, “hi”. 

He is astonished to find you keep smiling at him, “Do you mind if I-” 

“Not at all. I have been waiting for you to approach me for a good 10 months now.” you cut him off. 

Hoseok is astonished yet again, or maybe shocked will be a better word. He knows not everyone can notice him. He is noticeable only when he actually wants to be, for instance by being noticeable to the bartenders, so that he can enjoy his drinks. 

But he never intentionally allowed himself to be noticed by you. Or maybe he did? Because all along that’s what he actually wanted? 

“Ah really? You noticed me then?” he breathes slowly, trying not to scare you away. 

“It’s impossible not to notice someone as good-looking as you. On top of that you are a regular here and you look as lonely as I am.” you voice fades by the time your sentence ends. You punctuate it with a sigh. 

He gives you a tainted smile. It’s the first time someone has caught upon his despair too. For the first time he doesn’t feel things are terribly one-sided. For the first time he is not pitying a human but resonating with her. For the first time he feels his ending inching closer. 

“I am Hoseok, by the way.” Hoseok introduces himself while ordering his usual.

“I am Y/N” you reply. Your name rings in his ears, even though he already knew who you were and what you do, but hearing you introducing yourself to him has some weird effects on him. 

“Do you always have the same thing?” you point towards his whiskey. 

“Yeah. I’m not a great fan of alcohol.” he replies calmly. 

“Oh. then what is it, you are a fan of?” 

“Humans.” 

You laugh at it. A clear, ringing laugh that sends tingles to every corner of his body. 

“As if you are not one of us.” you say breathlessly when you are done laughing. 

“Maybe I am not.” Hoseok adds quietly. 

You look intrigued now. Your eyes are filled with a playful glint that has replaced the hazy loneliness. 

“Good then. I hate human beings, even though I am one of them. Maybe I hate myself as well? Who knows.” and within an instant, your despair is back. It is now clouding above your head. Hoseok can see it clearly and he wants to blow the smoke away. 

“Why so?” He places his question delicately. 

“They have done nothing to be loved. At least not the ones I have shared or am sharing my time with.” you sigh. “Even though I am moving on with time, moving on from people and situations, I am going nowhere. It’s as if I am stuck in an endless loop of time and things keep repeating on their own accord.”

Hoseok feels your every word deep in his bones. He has been stuck in this limbo for a long time as well. Feeling people’s pain and being able to do nothing about it is even more painful. And he can’t take it anymore. But tonight he will end it all.. 

“Do you want me to change it? Do you want me to take away your despair?” he says finally, “just answer in yes or no.” his voice feels hoarse all of a sudden. 

You sit straight. It seems as if you can tell how serious he is being. And maybe that’s why you nod a yes. 

Hoseok’s nails dig into your naked waist. His lips trail down the path of your throat, painting bruises on your skin. 

You moan his name when he bites down on the crook of your neck. He feels alive after all these years. The beating of our heart, vibrates into his own chest making him want to be a human like you, for you. 

Your fingers are tangled on his jet black hair. The delicious friction of your nails on his scalp is everything. He works his way to unclasp your bra, throws it away somewhere in your dark room and sets his eyes on your chest. 

“Beautiful. So beautiful for me.” he murmurs as he takes a nipple in his mouth. One of his hands slips into your underwear and finds your sensitive bundle of nerves while the other one massages your unoccupied breast. 

“Oh Hoseok!” you sigh in containment. 

It’s been so long since anyone has called him by his name. Things feel unreal at this point.

Hoseok drives you towards your bed and gently lays you down without breaking the contact with your skin. 

Two of his fingers play with your clit while his mouth dives down the valley of your breast, reaches your naval, and heads towards you core. 

“Hoseok! Quit foreplay! I need you inside me.” You whine while tugging at his hair. Your fingers join his inside your underwear. You take his hand out, pull it towards your mouth and suck your juices from his fingers. 

Hoseok can clearly see his end approaching. But he doesn’t regret it. 

You are warm, slippery and incredibly addicting when he enters you. His cock glides smoothly through your entrance. He thrusts with a force that will satisfy you but won’t break you, reaping out melodic moans from your mouth. 

“Fuc-fuck Hoseok! You feel so-so good! I can’t- ngh” and you cum on his godly cock.

Hoseok sees stars at this point. How can a human being be this addictive? How is he supposed to leave you behind if you keep holding him back like this? How? 

He spills inside you, ropes after ropes of cum shoots inside your pussy, some even leak out and drips down your inner thigh to your bed sheet. 

Both of you are trying to catch your breath but it’s time he ends both of your sufferings. So he climbs on your bed and hovers above your freshly fucked body. Your body glistens with a sheen of sweat, he can’t get enough of you. 

“Y/N” he calls your name and you open your eyes, look directly into his eyes and offer him a weak but genuine smile. 

“I am going to kiss you now. After the kiss, I will disappear, but so does your loneliness, you despair. I will take away the pain you suffer from.” he says in a breath. 

“Hoseok..” you murmur weakly, but before you can say anything any further, Hoseok is kissing you. He cups your face and dives into the kiss. 

The kiss is full of passion and pain, rainbow and rain.. 

Two pairs of your lips mold perfectly with each other, tasting every ounce of your mouth, your life, your soul.

But Hoseok feels it. His legs are not on your bed anymore, those have started to dissipate into air in the form of fine ash. It reaches to his torso, his chest and then his face. A single tear leaves his eyes before he fades away completely. 

And all of a sudden everything is blank. 

It’s been two weeks since you had that weirdly realistic dream. You can still remember his face, his voice but somehow his name has slipped out of your memory. As if he himself doesn’t want you to remember what he was called. 

Or is it just you? Is it because your loneliness has become way too overbearing for you now that you are making up sex scenarios with non-existent perfect men and hallucinating them everywhere? 

You should book an appointment with a therapist. You need it. 

“Excuse me, Ms. Y/N?” the voice comes from right beside you. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice that the bus stop wasn't empty anymore. 

“You dropped your employee ID on the way” the voice speaks again as the man comes to stand before you. 

“Oh shoot! Thanks a lot.” you take your ID from him and look up with a smile. 

But it vanishes and you are shocked to find out that the man of your dream is standing right before you. 

The voice, too, is similar. The only difference you can find is that this guy is filled with boisterous energy, he is less dark than the man in your dream. 

“Did I scare you? You look like you have seen a ghost?” the man laughs. 

“I- I ah..” you fumble with your words, “you look like someone I knew.” you laugh back awkwardly. 

“Oh I see.” he pauses for a bit, “I am Hoseok, By the way.” he continues, extending a hand towards you. 

“Hi Hoseok. I am Y/N” You wrap your palm around his. 

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie @violetsiren90

[ilys00ga]

𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀, 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀.

➞ pair: yoongi x reader.

➞ genre: hurt/comfort (why do I keep making these lmao), established relationships, I'm so bad at tagging sorry.

➞ warnings: angst and fluff cuz we all need that (we really do). reader has anxiety and abandonment issues, yoongi is trying his best for the sake of both of them, just relationship things.

➞ A/N: requested by @parkjennykim, this was very fun to write! thanks for yet another idea <3 I hope u like it. I'm organizing this blog/post (?) while listening to mono, and let me tell yall, it's such a vibe omg. I think you should read this while listening to that album, I love it sm, I can't even begin to explain UGH- if namjoon ever goes on a world tour, he better perform every single song in that album, cuz imma be losing my mind in the crowd, esp during moonchild. my vocal cords are already getting sore. yeah. if u want this to hit that spot, maybe u should do what I said (this is a friendly order, if u will). if not, just enjoy and pls ignore any mistakes, english has been challenging me recently (for the last 10 years lmao)

ps. I am in a dire need of a yoongi in my life. specifically the one I wrote in this one. oh how I love being a lonely fanfic writer <33

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ �� ♡₊˚��

God knows how long it had been after it hit midnight when Yoongi stood in the kitchen. His eyes were red and heavy with drowsiness, but he couldn't sleep that night.

How does one sleep through a restless, biting night?

Surely not with a bad headache, or overflowing thoughts, and especially not with guilt chewing on his core.

He gulped, throat begging to be quenched as it held onto a slight, delicious, yet bothersome burning sensation. He opened the fridge and filled a glass with some water, raising it to his lips when loud a cry of his name, followed with a thud and a number of sobs, disturbed the quiet of the night and made him jump, startled.

His limbs froze in their place, glass almost slipping his hand and crashing on the floor when his sleep deprived brain realized that the muffled cries were yours.

Wide awake, he dashed after the sound. Thirst and sleep no longer occupied his mind, all he could think of was holding you in his arms.

He found you on the stairs, trembling as you wailed into your hands.

He hated it so much: seeing you in pain. He wanted nothing more than to shield you from the rainfall of your gloomy sky, from his own rainfall, from the world. How could one be an umbrella and the rain at once?

He blinked, once, twice, then gulped and heaved a deep, tired breath.

One storm doesn’t require another storm to be calmed down, that he knew. One needs to be composed and collected to stand still during a storm, that he knew as well.

With worried eyes, he gently called out your name and walked up to you, “darling, what’s wrong?”

You looked up as soon as you heard his worried voice, some tiny sense of relief washed over you when you saw him right there. A hundred daggers digged so deep into his heart and bones, aching, the moment a broken whimper of his name fell from your lips.

Without a second thought, Yoongi hugged your face to his chest. One of his hands was patting your back and the other affectionately caressed your head.

As he listened to his name that never left your lips, Yoongi held you there on the cold of the stairs with nothing but sweet nothings whispered back to your ears.

Everything he did and said was so gentle and soft, like he was so afraid you'd crack and come to tiny bits and pieces at any given moment. It all made you want to cry even harder, to hold him so tight and never let go.

Soon, when your tears started winding down, pulled away and cradled your face with his hands, palms faintly pressing on your cheeks as if he hoped to share their warmth with you.

Tender eyes met your wet ones and stared as their owner’s voice made its way through the noise of your sniffles and hiccups. He said, “It’s alright. I'm here. Talk to me, hmm?”

You answered his plea with a small nod, before wiping your tear stained skin and hugging him again. He smelt like home. You took a deep breath, greedily feeding your lungs with his lovely scent.

He hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. He pressed light kisses on your temple, patiently waiting for you to talk.

“I had a really scary nightmare. so, so scary- I woke up, didn’t find you there- then…then I remembered the fight we had earlier. I…I thought I lost you- I'm sorry. sorry for the stupid things I said earlier. I love you so much! please don’t leave. please..”

Your voice quivered with fresh tears ready to be spilled again. Yoongi started hushing you as soon as he noticed that you were working yourself up.

Squeezing you in his arms, he whispered “I never left, and I never will.”

“I’m all right, nothing happened to me, see?” he leaned away just enough to allow you to take a quick look at his body, then added, “a stupid fight is not going to make me leave. I love you way too much for that, and I'm sorry for hurting you too.”

He could still read fear and uncertainty all over your face, and he didn't like that. He knew that you trusted him, and he didn't doubt your love for him.

At first, he didn't get it. He didn't understand the insecurities, the anxiety and the nightmares you suffered from especially after the inevitably worst of arguments that happened between you and him. But after longer and deeper talks, with you expressing your feelings and him listening with careful ears, it made much more sense to him.

Sometimes he hated himself for triggering your alarms and making it harder for you, but he knew it was neither his fault nor was it yours.

Growth and pain are two key elements that come arm in arm with love, and fights are an unpreventable part of any kind of relationship. For all that, he always ended up blaming himself for making you question your worth to him when he can't even sleep without you happily cuddling his side.

Softly, lovingly, he started prepping tender kisses over your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, temples, all over your flushed face.

It worked like watching waving fields of green wheat dancing with the wind, your storm started to slowly die down and your heart felt at ease again. slowly, but definitely.

Smiling ever so affectionately, Yoongi sealed his reassurance with a loving kiss that consumed you whole, and it left the corners of your mouth curving up in a dazzling smile. You nuzzled his chest and sighed.

“I really hate fighting with you.” you mumbled into his clothed chest, drained and light headed from all the crying and nearly-a-panic-attack you went through.

“I know, I'm sorry. I hate it too." he whispered back.

There was a pause of comfortable silence, with both of you breathing each other in, before he wondered aloud: “did you fall down the stairs? are you okay?”

You chuckled breathily at his question, recalling the hysteria he had to deal with just a few minutes ago. But Yoongi was there, right beside you. your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, right by your side.

He had some kind of exceptionally irrepressible magic in those fierce eyes and that gummy smile of his, you inarguably couldn’t be more grateful for that.

“I'm alright. Was too busy crying, I didn’t even feel a thing to be honest.” you said, and he giggled.

“I love when you’re clumsy like that, but please be more careful, muffin. Can’t have you hurting yourself because of me even more." Even with your face buried into the crook of his neck, you could feel and hear the heavy pout in that comment.

Huffing, you leaned away with furrowed brows and a strict gaze. Yoongi gulped. Hesitation took over him, yet he knew that honesty is the only thing that must be present to drive this conversation to an end.

Honestly brings clarity, he found himself reminding himself of that very often.

"as long as we take care of each other, it's okay. I love you." you affirmed, and perhaps Yoongi almost teared up because of the way you looked at him right then and there. He wouldn't utter a word to spoil that information out loud, though.

The shy grin and the flushed cheeks you were met with were worth risking the entire world and its eight billion residents. You couldn't help but smile and pull him into another hug.

"This is great and all, but my butt is numbed. I think there's no blood flowing down there anymore," he said, his heart swooning when you giggled at his humorous change of topic, so relieved that he was finally able to hear your brightness again.

"Let's go back to rest, darling." He stood up, grabbed your hand and squeezed it in his, then gently pulled your body up and dragged you to your shared bedroom, where everything and everyone else meant little to nothing at all as you laid in each other's arms.

[moxfirefly]

I love your writing so much and how you write the turtle just ugh ♥️ So I’ve been in my very angsty mood lately so I’m thinking of Raphael x F!reader? If you don’t mind?

The reader is a anti-hero type of character doesn’t feel like a good influence on Raph who is more of the hero type. Especially since his family are against the relationship because of the reader’s morals so they have her second guessing herself. Raphael disagrees with his family and is a stubborn mofo as usual. Lmao

"Why are you running? Why is it that every time I get close to you, you take off? What are you so scared of?"

"I'm going to kiss you. Okay? Just...just let me kiss you."

Listen I’m having a heart attack at having you in my inbox because I’m a HUGE HUGE fan of yours and like yeah, no pressure, I’m fine, I’m alright,

Rated Mature (suggestive themes)

There were many instances where you could feel Leo burning a hole through the back of your head, the grimace he sported the second he could spot you out on the open was enough to make your eyes roll. You knew having him be anything but pissy wasn’t going to be an option when Raph had told you about him.

The tallest one wasn’t any different, he was subtle sure but you’ve changed enough cellphones in 3 months just paranoid over being tapped. He observed, calculated, probably thought up of ways of his own to sabotage.

The youngest seemed stuck between feeling joy for his older brother but the worry was there, the second guessing resonated in his blue eyes whenever you rode up in your motorcycle looking a little worse for wear. What had you been doing the week you’d gone radio silent? Why could he smell blood on you? Why were your knuckles so bruised?

It was natural for Raphael’s family to want to shield him, Splinter especially, it was normal that you came from the proverbial wrong side of the tracks.

But couldn’t they see?

You cared for him, deeply. Wanted him, desired him, he made the bullshit somehow fade away.

But those cold gazes, the ironic judgment they held the second Raph ran off towards you, you could picture it.

So when Raph ran, so did you.

Somehow keeping a step away to his forward steps.

Because now whenever he reached out you felt a twinge of unworthiness at his touch.

Because maybe you were as bad as they thought you were, maybe you were a bad influence, something sent to break him apart and condemn.

You wrist hurt from holding onto the throttle, the ride back into the city an all too familiar one. You could feel your phone vibrate in the inside pocket of your jacket and while could guess, you tried to ignore it.

Maybe it due time to quietly slip away, Raph was good, he was a genuinely good man who stood for what he did. Why corrupted him (were you?) why give this a death sentence? (Was it?) why hurt yourself more? (Will it hurt more when you leave?)

You pulled into the subterranean garage of the apartment building you’d taken up residence in. You walked the bike towards the spot and sighed. Your hands were shaking, vibrating from the buzzing of the night ride.

“Ya planning on just never answering?” It came from the shadows, the deep baritone you often heard in your brain at all hours of the day.

Raph stepped out of the dark corner of the garage with a tension in his shoulders that must’ve ached. Taking off your helmet and setting it on the bike, you watched from your tousled locks at a man you found peace in.

Leaving peace behind wouldn’t be easy.

“It was a busy night, came back into the city just now.” You kept your gaze adverted, anywhere where it wouldn’t hurt to see worries green eyes staring back.

“It’s been a week, kid…what’s going on?” What did I do?

Was all you could hear deep within the swallowing of his throat.

“Nothing, had a job, did the job, took longer.” You hated how dry you sounded, sandpaper words that could damage those scales of his.

When Raph took a step to greet you, touch you, you took a small one back.

When you chanced a look at him, well it was easier to eat glass than watch that look.

“Raph—“

“Why are you running? Why is it that every time I get close to you, you take off? What are you so scared of?” He was close now, a large mitt reaching for your chin, gently oh so painfully gently caressing the outline of your jaw. You looked up, eyes shaky from finding any way to let him go, to push him away.

“You know why—“

He didn’t let you finish again.

“I don’t fucking care, this is what I want, you, I want you.” He cupped your cheek, small and vulnerable against his large palm.

You drowned in the possibility of leaving him, so when you remained silent, didn’t say anything, Raph leaned down.

“I’m going to kiss you. Okay? Just…Just let me kiss you.” The need in his voice, the want so visceral it made you feel it all the same.

When Raph’s lips met yours, for those little moments you allowed yourself the luxury of greed.

[shellforbrains]

okay, strap in, here we go.

i think i & a lot of other people went into Apology Tour expecting Stolas to be at different point in his character development then he actually is. but that development is definitely still coming!

a deep dive into where Stolas currently is at character wise with insights from my own personal life experience.

in this deep dive into where he currently is, i want to use what i personally have experienced & witnessed in my own life as a guide. bc if i'm being honest, after i had time to mull it over, looking at Stolas in this episode was both like looking in a mirror & also like looking at some of my own family members who i have tried to correct on their own microaggresions in the past.

now i want to preface this by saying that i am white. i will not be speaking on this from the perspective of a POC. i am speaking on this from the perspective of someone who has had to go on a similar (but obvs not as extreme) journey that Stolas is on, and as someone who has seen people i love vehemently deny their problematic actions when i have tried to tell them how harmful they are & how hard it is to actually argue with them about it.

and i'd also like to add that i am not trying to shit on Stolas with this & say that Blitzø did nothing wrong in their arrangement ever or in Apology Tour. Blitzø is also on a character arc of his own & growing as a character.

both he AND Stolas continued to suck at communicating this episode, & it wasn't anyone's sole fault there. i'm focusing less on their conflict (though of course i will make reference to it) & more focusing on where Stolas currently is in his journey & how him acting the way he does in AT is... not far off from reality, honestly.

even if it's painful to watch at times, i do have to commend the writing there haha. bc it's pretty fuckin' spot on.

okay with all that out of the way, let's get our hands dirty:

the description of the episode itself confirms that Stolas is "still not quite being self-aware enough at times" & boy did they hit the nail on the head here lmao.

i think most people will agree that Stolas still has a LOT to learn about the race/class difference & the power imbalance between he & Blitzø, but even still, some were expecting better out of him in AT than what we got. myself included.

but let's look at FM from his perspective:

he's off his meds & obviously went into that night with a very black & white view of the possible outcomes: either Blitzø returns his feelings & they'll be dating by the end of the night, or he's been keeping Blitzø against his will & is a monster. no room for shades of grey.

and when Blitzø (understandably for multiple reasons) mistakes this basically out of nowhere declaration of feelings as a form of rp, Stolas (very understandably) gets his feelings hurt. he shuts down & stonewalls.

he doesn't see any shades of grey when Blitzø chases after him, says he needs a minute to think, makes reference to his feelings being played with, or the fact that, while aggressive, Blitzø was trying to talk things out with him. Stolas only hears the yelling and (again, understandably) gets triggered.

ALONG WITH, it seems, only hearing the "everything you've put me through, you rich, privileged asshole" comment & the "treat me like one of your butler imps" comment. which, if i'm being honest, i think ALSO really hurt his feelings, based on how he ends up acting the next day in AT.

here's where my personal experience comes in, so let's tldr my story real fast:

i was raised in a fairly privileged position & was basically brainwashed into far right ideology from a young age at the private school i attended. trust me, i went on a WILDASS journey to unlearn some of the craziest & most vile shit that had been hammered into my head since i was a little tiny child. it's a tough journey, too, that's filled with a lot of ups & downs.

part of what makes Stolas such a special character to me is seeing that journey reflected on screen with the good, the bad, & the ugly. which is also why i get very frustrated with fans that want to ignore the bad & the ugly parts of Stolas' character & journey.

bc, yes, while he is a fictional character, it is always important to hold oneself accountable. even though i am a completely changed person from who i was all those years ago, i know that even at 33 there are probably things i still need to unlearn that i just haven't stumbled upon to challenge me yet.

the journey that Stolas is on is not a single switch flip or a short, easy one. nor should it be treated as one. however, i think it's important to dive into these things and see where it's coming from, even if it shines light on the bad & the ugly in a way that some people may not like.

now with my personal experience in mind, & how Full Moon went from Stolas' perspective, let's finally address that painful exchange that happens the morning after Full Moon.

emotions are still high, neither of them has had time to really process, Stolas is still very deep in his own feefees, and those feefees are HURT.

Blitzø, in his mind, has rejected a relationship with him. as well as accused him of being a racist/classist, something that Stolas does NOT see himself as. and, like ANY privileged person mostly oblivious to their own behavior, he gets his feefees hurt over this as well as getting very defensive about it.

while the bar is quite literally in hell, Stolas DOES treat imps... better than other Goetia. that doesn't mean he treats them WELL, bc he DOESN'T, but to Stolas himself, he sees other goetia carry imps around in purses like animals or throw them around like objects like Stella did. in his mind, he's treating imps very well! so he must think, "so why would Blitzø or that Stiker guy even say anything like that?! that's ridiculous & hurtful!"

enter stage left Blitzø, who starts off with his typical sexy talk which then turns into needling/arguing. (once again, oof. they both continue to suck at communicating this ep so hard.)

and when this exchange happens, it is... it is so quintessential oblivious privileged person getting defensive.

"i'm not racist/classist! when have i EVER done something like that? you talk just like those people that hate all white/rich people!"

i have literally heard basically those exact words, and ones similar to what Stolas says later, from family that i have tried to point out microaggresions to before.

microaggresions are called microaggresions for a reason & are obviously not considered the same as the more outwardly hateful shit for a reason. they are harder for people to realize that they are doing/participating in and therefore very easy to get their feefees hurt over & defensive about.

bc the ppl committing microaggresions hear the big, ""scary"" words like "racism" or "classism" & think of the most extreme examples, not the ""mundane"" shit that THEY do. so if someone says they're being racist/classist, they think they're being accused of the extreme shit & think people are being absolutely ridiculous.

bc OBVIOUSLY Stolas isn't carrying an imp around in a purse or yeeting them like Stella does so what's the big deal, right? /s

moving forward in their exchange, we come to these lines. and here's where, if i haven't ruffled feathers already, i'm probably going to ruffle them now.

by saying this, Stolas DOES make a point but also... DOESN'T at the same time, ending up only reinforcing his own ignorance & lack of self-awareness. but before anyone starts furiously typing to me, let me explain.

Blitzø DOES need to hear this to begin to understand how Stolas has been making attempts & does care in his own way, just like how Blitzø also needed to hear what Fizz said in Oops for the same reason.

HOWEVER, just like how Fizz said what he said in Oops without full context of the arrangement that Blitzø & Stolas had, Stolas says what he says here without the full context of his actions & how they actually read to Blitzø, especially in the context of the deal they had.

he is genuine about his attempt to make Blitzø understand he cares, but just like before, this is ALSO quintessential privileged person being defensive.

"if i were racist/classist why would i want to date a POC/a poor person? if i were racist/classist why would i want to be seen with a POC/a poor person? if i were racist/classist why would i want to spend time with a POC/a poor person or support them?"

yes, Stolas cares about Blitzø. but this is called being seen as an Exception or One Of The Good Ones. Stolas doesn't look down on Blitzø as much as he does other imps, but that doesn't make Blitzø feel any better. and even still, while Blitzø is the Exception, it still doesn't mean that he isn't still looked down on or been the victim of microaggresions from Stolas.

and honestly, some of the talk i've seen these past few days around the fandom regarding this has been... very fucking exhausting.

yes, i more than anyone understand that Stolas is not self-aware enough to fully realize his own behaviors yet. but everyone seems to be putting this entirely on Blitzø's shoulders to fix & educate Stolas on this despite the fact that Blitzø is also hurting & neck deep in his emotions as well.

Stolas gets a pass for being ignorant & uneducated & neck deep in his feelings but Blitzø is apparently supposed to be able to articulate perfectly to Stolas every microaggresion he's suffered & be able to sit him down & give him a lecture on Hell's Racism & Classism.

just like how it is not the job of POC to educate white people, or any other underprivileged group to educate a privileged one, it is NOT entirely on Blitzø's shoulders to educate Stolas.

Stolas is approx. 36 years old & has a smartphone. Google (or i guess it's gaggle in hell) exists & Stolas shows later on in AT that he DOES indeed have tiny blips of self-awareness, little nagging feelings that he's missing something.

yes, it would definitely HELP to have Blitzø explain his own perspective to Stolas, as i'm sure Stolas would be willing to listen if Blitzø can find a way to properly elaborate. and i do think Blitzø WILL at some point in the future do that!

BUT. confronting or educating loved ones is SO much harder than anyone else. i think part of the reason WHY Blitzø has a hard time saying specifics to Stolas (besides his own self-hatred & communication issues) is BECAUSE he cares about him so much.

it was not easy at ALL for me to try to confront loved ones in my life about their behavior, & being met with the defensive reactions only made it more painful on top of that. it is not uncommon at all for ppl to let a privileged loved one get away with things that they would NEVER let someone else get away with.

this leads into where i basically want to say... if you're having any worry or doubts about Stolas' character arc right now, don't worry. we've gotten some pretty clear signs from AT that there's still plenty to be addressed on Stolas' side & that it WILL be coming.

he simply is just not as far along in the journey as some of us thought he was, & that's okay. he'll get there, even if it is painful right now.

personally, my biggest theory on HOW he'll get there is the whole "Stolas is stripped of his title & everything he owns" theory that's been circulating around the fandom. something that drastic happening to him, leaving him with nothing, & forcing him to see what Hell is actually like for the lower class outside of his gilded cage would be one hell of a wake up call for him.

but even if that theory isn't correct, i still believe that it will not just be solely Blitzø or others around him showing Stolas the error of his ways.

i am of the opinion that something drastic will happen that will also help shift his view much more into focus & make him even more receptive to what he's being told about the racism & classism of Hell.

bc oftentimes, it DOES take something drastic in a journey like this one to actually light a fire under one's ass. what that will be for Stolas...? well, i guess we'll just have to wait & see!

[hrryshoney]

soon you will be mine, but i want you now

A/N: the picture? i’m just a sleaze, sorry! yeah this is part 2 to my previous matty fic! again, i apologize for any switching perspectives. lmk if i’m bad at writing smut.. honest reviews pls!

warnings: smut, literally sex lmao. idiots in love, are they gonna fuck while he’s sick? …sorry, but it wasn’t that bad in the first place! the drama queen likes to play it up. very wordy. bad writing..?😕

You and Matty were friends. Best friends. Well, maybe more than that now. Because you didn’t know any friends who did this with each other, best or not.

Matty’s lips were on yours. Moving firmly against one another. You were in a daze, it seems, because you don’t know how or when you began straddling his lap. Or maybe he put you there? Either way.

He was kissing you with such fervor that it made your whole body hot. He bit down on your lip, and you let out a truly pathetic gasp. This gave him an opening, and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. You could feel his smile against your lips.

Matty Healy was going to drive you insane, if he hadn’t already.

You pulled back and put your hands on his chest, breathing heavily. “Need air, Matty. Jesus, you got the lungs of a swimmer or some shit?” You move your neck back farther.

His lips chase yours. He pants, “Just got a lot of practice.” He attaches his lips to your neck. “Wanna practice on you, now.” You feel his teeth sink in, a little above your collarbone. His mouth sucks on the spot.

“You’re- you’re gonna leave a mark.” Your sentence is finished off with a half whimper/half pant. He’s really affecting you. Who knew suppressing emotions for your best friend would lead to tension filled foreplay?

“Mhm, good. Show ‘em all.” He licks over the spot he just sucked. “Can’t wait to see the mark, been wanting you like this for too long.” This is a Matty you’ve never seen before. Eyes dark, ravenous. His hair is messy atop his head, his chest is rising and falling rapidly. You think you want to become accustomed to this Matty.

“You have?” It’s a genuine question, although a stupid one. He just gave you a hickey and you’re asking if he wants you? Maybe it’s an ego thing, but you just want confirmation. You’ve been pining after him for far too long, and now that you have him.. it’s safe to say you want to keep him.

“You’re an oblivious little thing. I’ve always fancied you. Thought for sure ya noticed. Doesn’t matter, though. Have ya now.” Matty continues his assault on your neck, moving lower and lower now. The neck of his your oversized tee is moving lower with each kiss. “Can I take this off you, darling?” His eyes search yours for consent.

You barely get to finish your nod as he yanks the shirt over your head. You had forgone a bra today. Thinking you were only taking care of Matty, and that the tee covered your nipples, you didn’t see the point. Now though, on Matty’s lap, you feel all too exposed.

His eyes are glued to your chest, hands resting on your waist and squeezing the skin every so often. That look in his eyes is going to kill you. But what really does it is the small fuck me that’s whispered under his breath. Your hips give an involuntary roll against his own.

Your whimper makes him look up, you roll your hips again. Matty’s groan sounds too good coming out of his mouth. He tightens his hold on your hips. “Stop moving, yeah? Gonna be a good girl tonight and listen to me?”

Now that, you were not expecting. The moan that rips from your chest is something new. That was uncharted territory, something your old flings had never dabbled into. You didn’t think you were getting dirty talk with Matty. Oh, you were terribly wrong.

“Matty, shit. Please, yes, I’m good.” You didn’t know you had a big submissive side inside of you, but Matty is definitely bringing it out. He rolls his hips up into yours, but his hands restrain you from doing the same.

“Awe, you’re adorable, aren’t you? Just wanna be my good girl? That’s alright, love. You will be.” The snicker that comes along with his smirk is another thing you’re not accustomed to. The condescending tone. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

He picks you up from his lap and lays you back on the bed, into his previous spot. Matty had forgone a shirt, something about how hot he was with the ‘fever’. He was only in some sweats, and he looked good. You were aware of your best friends body, but seeing it this way was something else. His muscles and tattoos made your mouth water.

“Eyes are up here, babe.” He laughs at your awed state. His fingers are gilding up and down your leg, toying with the hem of your shorts. “I can take these off?” He asks for confirmation again, ever the gentleman. You nod.

“No, words. Use your words, please.” He smiles, he really is sick, you think.

“Yes, Matty, please.” Your hips buck up as he fiddles with the hem. Goosebumps have risen on your thigh from his touch.

“Good manners too, aren’t you sweet?” He grabs the waistband of your shorts and begins to pull them down. Slowly. Hauntingly slow. He knows what he’s doing, and you hate it.

You’re left in just your light blue underwear, you think it’s only fair if he strips too. “Can you take your pants off, please? Then we’ll be even.”

He simply does as he’s told, and tugs the gray sweatpants down his leg. He kicks them off to somewhere in the room, but your eyes are glued to his briefs.

Without giving you too much time to ogle, his mouth is glued to your chest. Kissing and touching your breasts. “Feel what you do to me?”

He pushed his bulge into your leg as he continues kissing your chest. “Got me so fuckin’ hard from nothing, like a bloody teenager. You always make me this hard.” He groans into your breast.

“Oh, Matty.” Your response is weak, but it’s the only coherent thing that will come out of your mouth.

“Yeah, love when you say my name. Would fuck my fist and think about ya. Moaning, making those pretty noises for me.” You gasp at that, you didn’t think he thought about you in that way.

You knew you’d done it before, but you would never tell. Those nights where you were aching, and desperately needed relief. Where you would slide your hand between your thighs and pretend it was Matty’s. You never knew the feeling was reciprocated.

“Taste so fucking good. Need a real taste. Can I, love? Can I eat ya?” You knew what he was asking, but you were apprehensive. Every time a guy went down on you, you never came. It was nothing personal, you guessed it just wasn’t your cup of tea.

“Yeah, you- you can, Matty. But if I don’t come, don’t feel some way. Never come when guys eat me out.” You shrugged, though you feel your body ignite from the way he looked at you.

“Shame. Guess they weren’t doin’ it right, darling.” He moves down your body and plants kisses on your stomach as he does so. He keeps going when he reaches the waistband of your panties. He kisses you over them.

Matty sits back on his knees and sees the prominent wet spot on your underwear. He puts his thumb atop it and pushes. You gasp, “Fuck, Matty!” clearly not ready for the stimulation.

“All that for me?” And though it’s a rhetorical question, you still nod. “So nice and wet, perfect for me.” He gives you mercy and slides your panties down your legs.

He’s at the edge of the bed now, just laying and staring at your pussy. You almost close your legs out of humiliation, but his strong hands rest on your thighs to pry them open. “Don’t run from me, darling. It’s really a sin to hide this pretty cunt. Really a shame no one’s taken care of her properly.” He runs his finger up your slit, collecting your wetness and pressing on your clit.

Your face heats from his vulgar words, and you let out a whine. Your hands cover your face. “Matty… please.”

“Aw, c’mon. Don’t be shy, ‘m just being honest.” His face gets close to your pussy and you feel his breath against it. The whine you let out is music to his ears. Matty licks a thick stripe, and you let out a guttural moan.

His tongue is all over in the best way possible. He’s sucking on your clit and it’s making you see stars. Your hands fly to his hair and you tug. “Mm, sorry. Don’t wanna hurt ya, just feels good.” You rub his head after your apology.

He speaks, and the vibrations against your cunt are sending you over the edge. “Tug all you want, don’t mind.” You let out a loud moan, and he laughs.

He moves his hand from holding your thigh and sticks one finger in your hole, continuing to suck your clit. Your hips buck from the internal stimulation. His finger moving in and out of you, and his lips around your clit is.. very pleasant, to say the least. Even more so when he adds a second finger.

You let out a sigh of pleasure. Matty curls his fingers. His are so big, yours just don’t compare. 2 of his feels like 3 of yours. He detached his lips from your clit and lays his tongue flat on it. You feel a jolt through your body, the pressure is building.

“Oh! Hm, Matty, I’m-‘m gonna…” You pant out and close your eyes tight, preparing for your orgasm. But it doesn’t come. You don’t cum. That’s because Matty has ceased all movements, moved away from your pussy entirely and is staring at you with a smile on his face.

“Matty! What the fuck, I was just about to cum. Are you serious?” You’re looking at him and pouting, a crease in your brow. He thinks you look positively adorable.

“Terribly sorry, darling.” He pouts back in faux sympathy. “But if you’re gonna cum, it’ll be ‘round my cock, yeah?” He moves to slide his briefs down his legs.

I feel myself nodding absentmindedly. Agreeing, or ready to agree with him. Ready to be compliant for him. And when he takes off his briefs… it really is a sight to see.

Matty’s cock is pretty. Of course it is, just like everything else about Matty. And right now, the tip is red and leaking pre-cum. He’s hard, long and thick. You can see veins popping out, it looks like it hurts.

Your mouth moves before you have chance to think about what your saying, “Want me to suck you off?” and your eyes widen as the words spill out.

“Jesus, what am I gonna do with you?” He asks, and smiles as he looks down at you. Kneeling on the bed, now. Slotted between your thighs. Almost where you need him. “Not today, darling. But thank you for the offer, ‘m sure your mouth feels amazing.”

‘Not today’, the phrase gives you even more hope that this is not a one off thing. That you and your best friend will progress together, and this isn’t just a hookup that will be brushed under the rug.

“I’m gonna go slow, okay? Tell me what you like and what you don’t.” He grabs onto your hands, and it all feels so tender. You’re glad Matty’s in your life.

When he thrusts in, you can’t hold the moan. He can’t hold his either. Matty’s noises are heaven sent. He sounds so good. Gravelly and whiny, but domineering. And with your whining in the back, it all sounds like the perfect soundtrack.

“You- you’re so big, Matty. Don’t know how it fits.” If you were in your right mindset, you would never inflate his ego like this. You know it’s big enough as it is. Oh, well. At least he’s endowed enough to back it up.

His smirk says enough. “Yeah? Filling you up good? This tight cunt? So good f’me. Perfect, like you were made for me.” He continues to pull in and out of you at an unrelenting pattern.

“Oh, God! Mhm, right there, please.” You can’t do much of anything else than cry out for him.

“Not God, just me.” He grins as he keeps thrusting into you, the sound of skin slapping fills the room. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” His mouth is right by your ear, you feel feral.

You clench around him. Hearing him pant your name is just the cherry on top. You feel the pressure building again. “Matty, so so close. Please.” Your whimpers and pleas don’t fall on deaf ears. Especially not when Matty brings his thumb around to press on your clit.

“Oh, Matty! Yes, yes please!”

“That’s right. My fucking girl. C’mon, be good for me. Cum. Cum all over my cock, angel. You can do it.”

All you can do is yell Matty’s name. You finally feel that release. Your vision goes white and Matty brings his hand to rest loosely on your neck. He’s still pounding into you, and you’re getting very overstimulated very fast.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot. So good for me, whole time. My good little girl, I’m close, shit.” Matty is groaning and panting in your ear, his pace never wavering. You think he has too much stamina. Then, you think that’s a good thing, a really good thing.

“Matty, please. Cum for me, please.” And you don’t care how pathetic you sound, begging for him to finish. You need him that bad.

“Where- where do ya want it?”

You don’t even have to think, “In-inside me, on the pill. Please, cum inside me?”

And Matty’s guttural groan is worth it. “Fuck, gonna be the death of me. Cum inside ya, fill you up real nice. That’s what you want, right babe?”

You nod your head so much that it could fall off your shoulders, and Matty’s thrusts are slowing down. You feel his dick twitch inside of you. You feel his cum dripping down your thighs. Matty pulls out, and you know you’re gonna be sore tomorrow morning.

He’s just staring between your legs, and then, “So pretty, should keep you like this all the time.” he takes two fingers and shoves them inside of you, pushing his cum back in.

Your back arches off the bed, “Fuck me, Matty.”

He collapses into the spot next to me, and pulls me into his chest. “Already did that one, love.” We both let out a giggle.

You two lay there in comfortable silence for a couple moments. His arm is around your body, fingers drawing circles on your bicep. Your hand falls to his chest, tracing his tattoos.

You figure you have to break the silence first. “So… can I be incredibly cliche with the ‘what are we?’ line, or do I need new material?”

Matty let’s out a loud laugh at that. He plants a kiss to the top of your forehead. “Y/N, honestly I’ve liked you for the better half of 8 years. If you want to be my girlfriend, then I’d be happy to be your boyfriend.” The words boyfriend and girlfriend make you giddy. You feel like a schoolgirl on her first date.

“‘Course I’d be your girlfriend, Matty. Don’t know if you could tell, but I’ve liked you too. Obviously.” You giggle a little. There’s a light and airy feeling in your chest. This is good.

“Mhm, take you out on a proper date after this. Dinner, movie, wherever you want to go. Whatever you want to do. Suppose I did it out of order. Fucked ya first, then wooing you on a date, yeah?” Matty chuckles a little, rubbing your arm. You laugh, too.

“You woo me everyday, Matty.”

“Careful, flattery gets you everywhere with me. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You smile. Matty smiles. You’re both glowing with happiness. This time, you lean in.

[ponytailzuko]

my miraculous "enemies" au

i wanted to post something to give context to art i post so here it is! i think you can consider this my "miraculous rewrite" if you want to call it that...? but its just me wanting everyone trying to steal each others miraculous. that's literally it. i love drama. details under the cut:

The Premise:

When Fu was a child training with the Order, they left him to guard a Miracle Box for as long as possible without food or water. Eventually, Fu got curious - he opened the box and a beautiful array of animals spilled out. Tikki and Plagg act like the angel and devil on Fu's shoulder: Plagg, along with many of the other kwamis, urge Fu to use his Miraculous to transform in order to get food from the kitchens. Tikki warns him otherwise, but Fu transforms with the Peacock and the Black Cat, and the destructive power of his emotions go on a rampage, destroying the Order.

In the destruction, Fu loses most of the miraculous and the grimoire. They're scattered all across the world, falling into different people's hands. Tikki vows to help Fu rectify his mistake of trusting Plagg and help recover the lost miraculous.

What Does This Change?

Miraculouses and grimoire pages are spread around the world, so magic is pretty commonplace. Superheroes and supervillains have existed in Paris before "canon."

Adrien finds the Black Cat independently from the Guardian. He makes a deal with Plagg - freedom for freedom. Plagg gives Adrien powers that allow Adrien to get out of the house, and Adrien lets Plagg do whatever otherwise - no commands, unlike his past holders.

Hints of the Black Cat hit the news and Fu sees it. Fu is out of shape, and the Black Cat holder looks young. Tikki goes out to choose a new holder - Marinette. Marinette is mostly the same in this; she uses the Ladybug for stopping supervillains, but this time she doesn't have a partner.

The Black Cat has a terrible reputation... After all, Plagg was locked up in the Miracle Box and never used for a reason. Ever since its been out, people have used it for horrific purposes. Fu and TIkki are sure that Chat Noir must be up to something. If he's not, then it'd still be safer to keep Plagg in the box. Marinette, with no experience, takes their advice to heart.

Instead, she and CN are 'frenemies.' They end up working together to defeat supervillains, but before Ladybug gets the chance to take his Miraculous, something always goes wrong!

Chat Noir is unaware that Ladybug is working for the Guardian. He assumes she also gained her miraculous independently and he wants to be friends! He's never made friends before, though... why do his attempts keep going so poorly!?

When Chat Noir does figure out what Ladybug is trying to do, it turns into a competition on who can steal one another's Miraculous first. Plagg is adamant to never be put back in the box again.

When Chat Noir is first spotted in Paris, Hawkmoth doesn't reveal himself at all. Instead, he akumatizes people to try and lure CN (+LB) out and assess them. LB + CN are both unaware that the supervillains they put behind bars are actually akumatized. He tries to pit them against each other until the two accidentally break an object and discover an akuma. Oops :/

Eventually, after discovering Hawkmoth's existence, Ladybug and Chat Noir make a "truce" to work together to defeat him before getting back to their business (trying to take each other's miraculous lmao).

i have so many little things in this au and a bunch of doodles that i'll finish one day, but that's the general gist. later on, other characters get miraculous (also independently) which you know... it adds to it. writing isn't my personal forte and this is too much for more than the occasional comic from me. so i might write an outline for how i'd write the full thing at some point. (shrug)

TLDR: Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Hawkmoth all want each other's miraculous and team up and break up in different combos until eventually Ladybug and Chat Noir team up like in canon.

edit:

[imagine-darksiders]

Okay, so, sad girl hours right now.

Y/N has been a lot quieter than usual, and when asked “what’s wrong?” they immediately break down crying because they were having a shit day where EVERYTHING was going wrong, but didn’t want to bother anyone with their stupid human problems (there’s far greater things to worry about in the heat of the apocalypse), so they kept it bottled up only for that one simple question to shatter the dam holding them together. The four horsemen + my comfort giant ™ Ulthane.

Also if you’re having a bad day like me: one bad day doesn’t equal a bad life. You’ve made it this far; surely you can make it to wherever you want to go next! You are loved and you are valid. Don’t give up just yet. ❤️

Hey, I'm really sorry, I know you requested the Horsemen too but I got way too carried away with Ulthane, and wrote an 8000 word response to this ask lmao, and by then I thought it might be getting too long.

Content warning: This gets quite existential. Allusions to suicidal thoughts, talks about death and the inevitability of death. Depression. The end of the world. The Apocalypse, nihilism. Crying, smoking, cigarettes, emotional outbursts. Ulthane is trying his best to raise this tree full of sad, unpredictable kids.

---------------------------------------------------------------

This was always bound to happen…

Ulthane’s chest swells and sags in the wake of a mammoth sigh, like a wave kissing the shoreline before it retreats back into the tumultuous sea.

A tall, arched hollow carved out of the trunk of the Maker Tree allows him a limited glimpse of the city beyond this inner sanctum. Through the fragmented shadows of a thousand, whispering leaves, the night sky peeks back in at him, a vast, endless beast of shimmering obsidian, crushed velvet strewn above the Earth.

It’s dark out there, immeasurably so without the lights and sounds of a population that had once been two million strong.

He would have liked to have seen it….

From his usual post at the anvil nestled deep inside the cavity of the great tree, Ulthane’s gaze calmly trails after a tiny, tiptoeing shape that hugs the wooden walls, a dark silhouette creeping through the hollow and out onto the plateau overlooking Haven City.

Again, the brawny maker exhales a long, gentle breath as he lowers his hammer to the anvil and drapes a burly forearm across the cool, flat surface, ears tipped towards the ground in unhappy contemplation.

He recognises the silhouette.

It can only be one human.

You. Your stature, your gait. Not to mention that this is the third time in as many days that he’s spotted you leaving the safety of the sleeping nook to venture outside and into the wild, chilly night.

The first time, he’d merely turned you right back around at the entrance, giving you a gentle nudge with his fingertips and a disgruntled reprimand about not leaving the tree after dark… Or at all for that matter.

Your face was tilted down then - he assumed in embarrassment – as you slumped your way back up to the nook, never letting him catch a glimpse of your expression, and never speaking a word to the huge, hovering maker.

That alone had stirred a modicum of unrest in the back of his mind.

Typically, he’d had very little trouble getting a conversation out of you. But that night, he brushed your unusual silence aside, chalking it up to fatigue, or perhaps that strange habit some humans have of walking around in their sleep.

They even have a sleepwalker in their midst… Damn near gave Ulthane a heart attack when he turned around one night to find the little blighter standing motionlessly just behind his boots, their mouth slightly ajar and their eyes lidded full of sleep, staring past him at nothing.

The phenomenon is yet another curious facet of human biology he wishes he could share with an old friend of his.

Alas…

Ulthane had elected to keep a closer eye on you during the nights, even warned Elanya and Yarin that they might have another walking sleeper on their hands.

He’d hoped, perhaps naively, that it might have just been a one-time occurrence.

His hopes were dashed when it happened again.

Ulthane had never had his own younglings. Never really gave it much thought beyond his brother’s teasing.

‘You sure you don’t plan on havin’ yer own?’ Thane guffawed unhelpfully as he watched his disgruntled brother fish a tiny, spluttering Karn out of the aqueduct that runs adjacent to Muria’s garden. ‘You’d make a good sire.’

‘Not until you have some first,’ Ulthane groused back as a way to escape answering, settling the boy on his knee with a fist clenched around his overall straps, like scruffing a pup. Ulthane had made a mental note then and there to teach Karn how to swim the very next morning. Preferably in the Fjord, and not in their sacred waterways.

Helping Eideard raise Alya and Valus was preoccupying enough, and then Karn was born a few centuries after the twins hit their adolescence. The boy lost his dam, and thus it fell to the other makers in Tri Stone to keep their littlest tyke out of danger as best they could.

In hindsight, Ulthane is grateful that he had any experience with younglings at all, because sometimes, taking care of a tree-full of humans feels a bit like wrangling toddlers who won’t do as they’re damn well told. Oh, they used to, back when they first met the giant and were utterly petrified of him. He didn’t like that much, but at least when they feared repercussions, they actually listened if he told them not to go outside, not to talk to the demon lurking on the plateau, not to climb the upper branches, not to drink the rubbing alcohol, not to sleep in their bedrolls with their boots on, and…

Ulthane wrinkles his nose and groans as he scrubs a rough hand down his face. Stone be damned, maybe he would have made a good sire after all.

The second night, you’d managed to slip past the vigilant maker without detection. He only realised something was amiss when, from the corner of an eye, he’d caught a tiny, orange glow blooming to life in the pitch-black dark beyond the hollow.

Immediately alert, he’d lifted his head from his work at the anvil to look properly, and found his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. There was a soft glow, small and round hovering in the darkness outside, several feet above the ground.

He squinted at it, watched it flare brightly for a moment before it receded to a softer burn once more.

….

“I’m just having a smoke,” you’d uttered tonelessly as he tromped through the hollow to find you leaning on the wooden ridge that separates you from a nasty, two-hundred-foot plummet to the city square below.

You didn’t turn around as you spoke. You didn’t need to. You could have heard the giant coming from a mile away.

Stealth isn’t something makers usually bother with…

Ulthane almost thought he should be angry. You’re a smart human. You should have known better than to leave the safety of the tree. But all he found when he loomed close enough to actually peer down and sideways at your face was something that took his great, thumping heart in a fist and wrung it dry.

Sad… is too gentle a word for it.

What he saw in your face at that moment, peering out over the city, shrouded by night’s enigmatic hue, was far more alarming to the burly maker than he’d ever admit to you aloud.

Oh, there was sadness there, certainly. But it was also so much worse than that.

With humans, it’s all in the eyes, he’s found. Humans have such astoundingly expressive eyes.

Dark pupils that expand and contract. Sclera that turns red from fatigue or anguish. Lashes that glisten like jewels when tears escape the confines of their eyelids.

Ulthane might be reduced to a soft-hearted fool whenever one of his – the - humans cries, yet he can’t stop himself from finding the act ethereally beautiful, in a way.

Tears are rare in other species, even among the younglings. In his own village, the river that brings them water is referred to colloquially as the Tears of the Mountain, a name steeped in reverence, life-bringing water.

There were tears on your lashes that night, he recalls.

They sparkled in the gentle glow cast by a thin, white stick that dangled loosely between your parted lips.

As the maker stared down at you, trying to decide whether he should be relieved you hadn’t ventured any further than that, or livid that you were out there at all, you raised your hand to your mouth and held the stick steady between two fingers, drawing in a slow, uneven breath. Ulthane watched on, captivated by the end of the stick burning even hotter in the deep, blue twilight.

Plucking it from your mouth entirely, you’d exhaled, and he was even more amazed to see you breathing out smoke, like dragon-fire. Ulthane could do little else but gawk down at the elegant cloud of white as it billowed through your lips and drifted up towards the sky. It’d been a long time since he’d seen a dragon… Looking at you then, he couldn’t shake the image of a poor, lonely beast gazing forlornly over a home it would never get back.

Ulthane had seen such looks before, on the faces of his fellow makers when their home fell prey to Corruption. The foul plague drove them further into the outer reaches of their own realm, trapping and isolating them, stealing their bodies and using their own people as puppets against the survivors.

One by one, the makers fell, those who were brave or foolish enough to try and fight back.

He’d watched the younglings lose their hope, their wonder at an infinite Universe. With each maker felled by the vile darkness spreading its tendrils across their land, the resolve of those that were left started to waver.

There was a pattern, Ulthane noticed, in those who were closest to death. They stopped being scared. They stopped being outraged and desperate to save their homes and themselves. Resignation became an entirely new plague, killing off the once bustling village of Tri Stone until only he and a few others remained. Apathy grew like a tumorous thing, deadening the eyes of all but the stoutest hearts and minds.

That’s what you looked like, he’d realised with the lurching, ominous chill of dread creeping up his stomach walls.

Resigned.

Hardly alive, just existing. Existing until the inevitable, as if you were already hand in hand with Death just waiting for the nod.

This was always bound to happen…

“Thought I told you to stop sneakin’ out here,” he’d eventually rumbled, his tone gruff and guarded, but his intentions couldn’t be softer.

You didn’t react to the maker’s words, merely continued to gaze out at the skyscrapers reaching up towards the stars. “Didn’t want to smoke inside,” you said quietly, “The others shouldn’t have to breathe this shit.”

All that did was set alarm bells blaring in Ulthane’s skull.

Pale, blue eyes turned to glare sharply at the innocuous stick poking through your teeth.

“And, er… Should you be breathin’ it?” His loaded question held a merit of danger to it, like the hammer of a gun, cocked and ready to fall at a moment’s notice if he doesn’t hear what he wants to.

Which made it all the more surprising that you didn’t immediately try to ease the maker’s nerves as you usually would. Instead, you raised your shoulders in a lazy shrug and hummed, “Either the demons kill me, or this cig will. Doesn’t really matter at this point, does it? Who gives a shit?”

Another odd, human colloquialism, but he got the gist.

Ulthane still isn’t particularly proud of what he did then.

Maybe it was the blasé reference to your own mortality or the blunt ultimatum, or even the suggestion that your life isn’t cared about. Something struck a nerve, and Ulthane wasted no time in reaching down and using the very tips of his thumb and forefinger to pinch the burning end of the ‘cig’ and pluck it out from between your teeth, unaffected by the tiny fire singing his calloused skin.

And then came the most egregious act.

He tossed it, flicked the tiny thing from his fingers and sent it sailing over the wooden ledge where it fell, down, down and further down until its glowing ember disappeared in the darkness dozens of feet below, extinguished by the rush of wind hitting its stub.

Ulthane fully expected some sort of retaliation. He even hoped for it. Anger, indignation, frustration. Hell, he half wanted you to round on him, all fire and brimstone and spewing venom, demanding that he go down there and retrieve your stolen treasure.

Anything. Anything at all that would have returned a little life to your lustreless eyes.

What he got instead was a deathly-quiet voice that cracked at the end of its sentence. “That was the only one I had left…”

Ulthane thought it might have hurt less if Yarin slugged him in the gut.

Looking back on it now, as he stands at his anvil watching you traipse aimlessly into the dark for the third time, Ulthane finds he can hardly blame you for resenting him.

You and the other humans… You don’t have much left anymore. And what little you do have is cherished with fierce devotion. Even the most mundane things. He can still recall the ghoulish howl one of the women emitted after her bracelet’s string snapped, spilling colourful beads across the floor of the tree, her desperation as she clawed after them, wailing. You were among the first to drop down and search with her. “We’ll get them all back, Sam,” you soothed as she clutched the broken elastic to her breast with one hand, knuckles bone-white, “We’ll find them, it’s alright. You’ll be alright.”

It was never just a bracelet.

And that tiny, little stick you called a ‘cig’ probably meant more to you than the old maker could ever comprehend.

A low, resonant hum starts up deep in the base of Ulthane’s throat as he tracks your silhouette across the hollow until you vanish out onto the gloomy plateau. Perhaps he should leave you be tonight…

With a grunt, the maker focuses back on the little talisman sitting on his anvil – a gift for the Horsman, whose efforts to recover more survivors from the crumbling city haven’t gone unnoticed.

Readjusting his grip on the hammer, he taps it half-heartedly on the metal casing, ears pinned back as he tries to quell the nagging thoughts scurrying about in his skull.

Suppose you fell off the plateau… Suppose you were spotted by a dusk-wing flying by overhead…

Ulthane manages to restrain himself for all of five minutes before he frustratedly tosses his hammer down onto the anvil’s surface with a resounding ‘clang,’ and shoves himself away from the workstation, stomping off towards the tree’s hollow, his brother’s laughter ringing in his ears.

In his haste not to hurry, he fails miserably, and at last comes bursting out onto the wooden plateau, eyes zeroing in on the small shape ahead of him.

It’s more of a relief than he’ll ever admit to find you leaning on the ridge, just as you had the previous two instances, arms draped across the top, shoulders hunched, your head ducked into the collar of a light, grey jacket.

Holding a breath in his lungs until he’s confident he can let it go quietly, Ulthane draws closer.

As he does, a sudden white cloud billows from your mouth, and the maker almost thinks you’ve managed to scrounge up another of those ‘cigs.’ But when he comes to a slow, heavy halt beside you and glances down, he can’t spot anything of its likeness hanging between your lips.

Belatedly, he finally realises what’s wrong.

It’s cold out here. At least it must be for a human with parchment-thin skin.

You barely acknowledge his presence as he reaches for the blue, well-worn cowl wrapped around his neck. Ulthane makes sure to grumble aloud as he pulls it over his head. “Hmph…catch yer damn death…” he mutters grumpily, pretending that the mere act of draping it over your shoulders and using the pads of his fingers to wrap swathes of warm fabric around you is a terrible inconvenience. He also tries hard not to fixate on the way his cowl spills down your back to pool at your feet.

Maker’s bones… You’re so tiny.

Sluggishly, you roll your head sideways to peer at the makeshift blanket, giving Ulthane a proper glimpse of your flat, unreadable expression lit by the luminous moon hanging overhead in a star-spattered sky.

Something ancient and primitive inside him is immensely pleased when you don’t reject the offer of warmth. It settles him, leaves his restless soul satisfied, though only by a small margin. You’re still out of the safe confines of the tree, in the dark, after all.

Everything else about the maker’s nature still urges him to get you out of the open.

But Ulthane has been around long enough to recognise a pattern when he sees it.

This is the third time he’s found you out here, alone.

Twice was a coincidence. But three times?

Deliberate.

He needs to get to the bottom of this now.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he mutters, withdrawing his hands but lowering his hefty bulk onto one knee to be closer to your height. It’s only after he says it out loud that he realises, he’s right. You have been quiet lately. Moreso than usual.

For several, long moments, you remain inert, blankly staring down at the fabric cocoon you’ve found yourself in. “Have I?” you ask in a whisper, brows twitching as if they want to furrow but can’t muster up the energy to.

Humming pensively, the maker raises his head, keeping you in the corner of his watchful eye. “Been missin’ you at the anvil…” he admits, shrugging a massive shoulder to try and retain a modicum of indifference. If you only knew how much he looks forward to your company, he’d never be able to look you in the eye.

“In fact,” he adds, adjusting his weight, “Only time I seem to catch you nowadays s’when I find you out here. Where you aren’t s’posed to be.”

There might have once been a time when merely adding a stern inflection to his voice would send you cowering away from him. Some of the humans who are newer to the tree still do it. But you, over time, had stopped, realising that Ulthane was as likely to hurt you as he was to fly to the moon.

But it wasn’t often that he had to add those inflections. And if ever he did, it was usually because you or one of the others was doing something you really shouldn’t have been doing. Even then, you may not have cowered, but you’d certainly have the decency to look admonished, apologetic even. You’d offer the maker a quick, sheepish smile that worked wonders to appease him and earned him hours of teasing from Elanya and Yarin.

Now, however, he gets nothing. Not a flinch, nor a quibble. No sheepish yet disarming smile that puts a youthful quiver back into his heart. What he gets instead is a weary sigh, followed by a decidedly bitter, “Maybe I just want to be left alone, huh?”

A disconcerting pang hits him right in the pit of his stomach… Something is definitely wrong.

Perhaps it’s narcissistic of him to presume, but that one, barbed request from you is enough to set off a needling voice at the back of his mind, one that callously plants the seed that all of this - your behaviour, your apathy, your twilight excursions – somehow, it’s all his fault. Casting his brain about, he tries to think of something in particular he’d done that would cause you to seek distance from him, all the while pretending it doesn’t bother him nearly as much as it does. Aside from tossing your last ‘cig,’ he doesn’t land on anything that sticks out. But you’d fallen quiet and withdrawn long before that incident occurred.

Then again, he is still trying to wrap his head around all the complexities of the human social structure… As he considers it, he realises with a sinking feeling that it’s highly likely he’s committed some sort of faux-pas and never even noticed…

Shit.

Scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he untucks his braid from the confines of his tunic and exhales roughly, nostrils flared in agitation.

“Look…” he sighs, roving his gaze out to look at the silhouettes of a dozen, towering skyscrapers, “M’not… V’e always been more for brawn than brain, mm?” Pausing, he raps at his skull with a solid knuckle. “So… If I… said somethin’ I shouldn’t have… and it… changed the way you see me-…”

Again, his voice trails off, and he returns his eyes to you, finding you tilting your face up towards him with the tiniest crease sitting between your eyebrows.

Are you angry at him? Confused?

It’s so hard to tell sometimes. A human’s face can tell a thousand little stories with one twitch of the muscles, fluid in a way makers and other species could never hope to be.

Ulthane’s chest gives a rumble, like something massive and subterranean passing far beneath the Earth’s crust. He truly hopes you aren’t angry at him.

“Just…” A pair of immense shoulders sag dejectedly as the maker squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself before he pries them open again, peering down at you from underneath his crumpled brow. “Just tell me what I said,” he finally croaks, “And I’ll never say it again.” He never intended for it to sound so much like a wounded plea, wants to weld his mouth shut when his voice breaks unexpectedly.

Son of a bitch. These humans must be starting to rub off on him.

Deafening silence chases the end of his sentence, and for a time, he’s stuck observing your face fall gradually from a nearly imperceptible frown to a solemn, sympathetic wince.

“Ulthane… It… Hhh.” A rush of air bursts out of your parted lips, harder than a sigh. You’ve been doing that a lot lately, he realises. Dragging your eyes over towards the distant city, you gaze out at it for a second before returning them to the underside of Ulthane’s chin, your lips tilted down at the ground. “Listen. I’m not trying to be a dick, a-and I mean this in the best possible way… but it isn’t about you, I promise… You haven’t done anything wrong.” It’s the firmest voice you’ve used yet.

Glancing down, you blink miserably at the toes of your shoes poking out from under his oversized cowl. “I’m sorry,” you add, this time in a far gentler, wobbly lilt, “I’m sorry I told you I wanted to be left alone. It isn’t your fault.”

Oh… that’s… actually a lot more relieving than he’d care to admit out loud.

The speck of lightness that lifts his chest doesn’t last for long, however.

There still begs another question, one he’s hardly qualified to be asking… If your issue isn’t with something he’s said or done… then…

The notion suddenly occurs to him that you might be getting grief from someone else. One of your fellow humans, perhaps?

Before he can wrestle it down, a hot burst of protective indignation flares up in his chest. He’d have noticed, surely. Wouldn’t he? He’d know if one of his charges was being upset by someone while under his roof… Right?

Griping unhappily, Ulthane reminds himself that he’s nothing if not a persistent old bastard. And when he’d made his quiet, private oath to protect what remains of a species he inadvertently helped to eradicate, he didn’t just pledge his protection to their physical wellbeing.

The tremendous breath he exhales through his nostrils is strong enough to disturb the hairs on top of your head, a fleeting reminder of how even the smallest gesture from a man his size can affect you in some way…

“Right then,” he rumbles with a deliberate edge to his tone that sets your shoulders tensing under the soft weight of his cowl, “But there is somethin’ botherin’ you, aye?”

He sees you stiffen, watches the flicker of something raw and frantic pass over your dainty face. Then, he sees that mask of apathy fall back into place, hiding yourself away from him once more.

“Nothing’s bothering me, really,” you deflect, shrugging one shoulder as nonchalance might throw him off the scent.

Ulthane’s bushy eyebrows dip at the centre of his forehead. ‘Not having that...’

The sound of creaking leather and clanking metal fills the air as Ulthane adjusts himself onto two knees at your side, resting back on his hindquarters.

You actively jump at the sensation of a colossal palm cupping around your back, almost leaping away entirely before you realise what it is and force yourself to go still again, allowing the maker behind you to push warmth and sincerity into your windchilled bones.

As he covers your fragile spine with his hand, Ulthane’s instincts lay their rearing heads back down, appeased to have a physical wall of muscle and flesh standing between you and the outside world.

“Reckon I’d know if somethin’ was wrong with my favourite human,” he says, only half-joking, regarding you closely to gauge your reaction.

“Favourite?” you scoff wetly, “Now you’re just trying to butter me up.”

Giving a chuckle, he replies, “Maybe…” A heavy pause, then… “S’it workin’?”

Instead of a response, you suck down a lungful of cold air, letting it all go again in a slow, shaky breath. “You should go inside, Big Guy,” you whisper, turning to lean your weight against the wooden ridge again, “I’ll be fine in a minute. Just need a little more fresh air.”

Would it be hypocritical of him to call you a liar?

Shifting his weight, he hums - a tectonic, mellow sound coming from deep in the cavern of his chest. “Nah,” he decides quietly, “Reckon I’d rather stay out here with you till you tell me what’s wrong…”

He doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t feel he needs to.

“Oh…” Your breath hitches. Already, you’ve started to tremble beneath his palm, and he’s fairly confident you can’t accredit it to the cold.

Persistent as he is, the Old One is also a patient maker. And while he doesn’t especially like the idea of letting you stay out here all night, if it gets him to the bottom of this silent state of mind you’re in, then it’s a bullet he’s happy to bite. Besides, he’s quick to remind himself that he’s here with you.

The other humans are safe inside, carefully watched over by the ever-attentive Yarin and a devoted Elanya. The pair have taken to guarding the upper nook where their charges slumber at night.

Which leaves Ulthane free to guard this wayward soul. He’s glad to. Outwardly, he wouldn’t usually even allude to keeping favourites. After all, it’s a badly kept secret that he has a soft spot for all the humans he’s brought here, even the elusive and ungovernable Jones who leaves the tree so frequently, Ulthane is convinced the man is trying to send him to an early grave.

But you… The soft spot he has for you is especially tender.

There in the darkness, he waits, silent and still, an unmoving sentry at your back.

Minutes pass, and only the hushed whispering of ten million leaves breaks the spell of quiet settled around you.

And then, an entirely different sound disturbs the peace. One that’s much closer to home.

That first wet, convulsing sob tugs the maker’s ears down a fraction, but he lets out a sigh, giving your back the gentlest of pats, encouraging another bleat of misery to jump out of you before you can stuff it back down your throat.

There you go…

Once the first few cries are shaken are loose, there’s no damming the flow.

Hands fly up to crush against your mouth as you lurch forwards into another sob, burying your face inside the relative privacy of your palms.

Before Ulthane can adjust his hand to catch you, your legs promptly buckle and give way under you, sending you crashing to your knees in front of the ridge and collapsing against it, turning sideways away from him, shoulder pressed to the wood.

All the while, his hand remains adhered to you.

Your back jumps up and down beneath his palm, broken sounds squeak out through the miniscule gaps between your fingers, and a confusing jumble of guilt and relief mingles together in the maker’s chest.

Crying isn’t something exclusive to humans, but they’re by far the most prone to it.

Ulthane tries not to dwell on the fact that he’s pushed you to this, like some, tenacious bully. His old soul yearns to extinguish any source of distress you might face. You’ve had enough anguish to last you a lifetime, after all. But the guilt he feels is buried well beneath a much more potent relief.

This had to happen.

‘This is good,’ he tells himself staunchly, trying in vain to steel his ancient heart against your soul-crushing cries, ‘This is better than the emotionless vacuum you were floating in before.’

Your body jerks viciously with each, strangled sob, teeth pressed against the skin of your palms to muffle each sound you emit.

You’re trying your best to be quiet. Subdued and secretive in your unravelling.

He knows he’s the one who wanted this to happen, but that doesn’t make it any less jarring to see you cry.

A century ago, if anyone were to ask Ulthane if he’d describe himself as a comforting maker, he’d have laughed himself hoarse. A bruiser like him? Comforting? He supposes it’s still laughable today.

Sometimes, he catches himself wishing he knew where Azrael had disappeared off to after the seals were broken. The angel would know what to say to you, no doubt. Daft bird is even more of a sap than Ulthane where humans are concerned, and ferociously intelligent to boot, even among Heaven’s scribes and scholars.

Why the White City’s brightest mage had decided that Ulthane was a maker to befriend, is a mystery that would have any sage scratching their heads and offering a helpless shrug.

‘Still,’ he muses, frowning gently down at the human quivering beneath his fingers, ‘You haven’t pulled away entirely yet.’

So perhaps, despite all of his clumsy, heavy-handedness, he might not be doing as terribly as he thinks he is…

Absently, Ulthane smooths his calloused thumb up and down your back, hyper-aware of the notches in your delicate spine. He’s glad he opted not to don his thick, leather gloves this evening. He feels gentler without them…

The cowl, however, has begun to slip off your shoulders, dislodged a little further with every breath you choke on.

Just as Ulthane withdraws his hand from your back and pinches the fabric to readjust it, his ears register a broken whisper drifting through the air.

“It’s all gone, Ulthane,” you squeeze out at last, hands cupped pitiably over your mouth so you can drag in a shuddering breath, “Everything’s gone. God – fuck!”

All at once, the cowl slips from his fingers and falls around you once more as the maker goes very still, his gigantic hand hovering stiffly above you. Slowly, a pair of pointed ears pin themselves against the sides of his skull, and a cold splash of realisation douses his chest in ice.

If he weren’t worried about startling you, he’d smack a palm over his forehead as comprehension ploughs into him like a runaway stone rolling down a hillside.

Of course…

How could he be so blind? Oh, he’s such a fool!

The most obvious reason is literally sitting in plain sight all around him, yet somehow, he didn’t see the woods for the bloody great tree slapped bang in the centre. He assumed your troubles were smaller, simpler. It feels like an insult to you, deducing that your despair was due to something so trivial as an untoward comment.

Hanging his head, Ulthane’s face twists up in shame.

Trembling like the leaves overhead, you clutch desperately to your own shoulders, fingertips bunching into the blue fabric draped over them. “What the Hell are we even doing?” you blurt out, ripping your hands away from your face and wringing them in front of you, “The world just fucking ended! It’s over, a-and we’re just sitting up here like… like fucking rats in a sinking ship!”

By now, you’re almost shouting, losing control of your own voice without any residual strength left to keep the emotions you’ve buried so deep from rising to the surface and bursting like pustules on your tongue.

It must hurt you to bare yourself like this, it is hurting you. The sudden change in your demeanour freezes Ulthane solid for a few, uncertain seconds, though he doesn’t stay motionless for long.

When you rush to swallow another breath, he stretches out an arm and envelopes you in his hand once more as if the weight of it might keep you from springing to your feet and fleeing at the slightest provocation.

You buckle under the appendage, leaning forwards to gulp in another lungful of air that collapses into a heart-wrenching sob. “I-I just-!” But you stuff your lips together to trap the rest of the words.

Ulthane latches onto your reluctance with a discontented hum. “Come on now,” he utters, wrapping large but cautious fingertips around your shoulder and trying to coax you into turning to face him, “Won’t do you no good keepin’ it all in now, eh?”

Your only response is to give your head a rapid shake, digging your fingernails into the cowl as you resist the giant’s gentle tugging. “I can’t,” you croak, voice hoarse.

“Yes,” the maker argues, “You can.”

It’s so matter of fact, you almost believe him.

For several, unpleasant moments, your breath continues to catch in your chest as your shoulders hitch up and down, and still you refuse to turn around and face the giant looming behind you.

Then all at once, like a flipped switch, the tension in your body disappears and you deflate like a ruptured lung, sagging in on yourself so abruptly, Ulthane jerks forwards, assuming you’ve passed out on him.

Before he can scoop you into his hand however, you shift, using your shoulder to shove away from the ridge and arduously manoeuvring yourself around until you’re leaning back against the solid wood. Reluctantly, Ulthane allows his hand to slide off your spine and it flops dejectedly into his lap.

You still won’t meet his gaze.

At least he can see your face though.

He always thought he had a heart of steel before he came to Earth, even liked to think that millennia of experience and trials would have left him immoveable and stoic like the maker heroes in Eideard’s stories.

It’s remarkably humbling to gaze down into the face of a human and realise he doesn’t know himself nearly as well as he likes to think he does. Because one glimpse of the wetness shining off your cheeks and the rivulets cutting glistening tracks down to your chin has Ulthane Blackhammer fighting back the urge to press a hand over his lurching heart.

He draws back a little with a soft intake of breath, gathering his thoughts before he presses his lips together into a resolute frown and leans towards you once more, his monstrous fingers shuddering with the effort of moving slowly and carefully enough to brush the pad of his thumb across your cheek.

That’s when you finally look at him.

Dazzling eyes shine with tears as they venture up to meet his own.

Your mouth opens, and in reverent anticipation, Ulthane pulls his hand away from your face, ears tipped forwards to listen.

“I just want it to be over,” you utter, so softly that he has to strain to hear you, “I can’t stand it… I can’t stand just waiting around to die…”

Ulthane’s jaw clenches firmly shut.

“Who says you’re dyin’?” he retorts, perhaps a bit more sharply than he intended, “Yer not goin’ to die.”

This time, your shoulders jump with humourless laugh instead of a sob.

“Look around you, Ulthane,” you hiccough, gesturing a floppy hand at the city to your back, “Every day could be the day those demons decide to climb up here and finish what they started. We all know it’s bound to happen. I wish they’d just… get it over with!”

The maker opens his mouth to argue, to gruffly retort that he’d never let the bastards get within a metre of you without having to go through him first, but you’re already carrying on.

“We’re all just living on borrowed time! And I can’t-!”

One again, your voice falters and fades, dying in your throat.

Swallowing audibly, you let your head fall forwards until your chin almost rests on your chest.

Ulthane works his clenched jaws apart, watching from beneath heavily furrowed brows as you lift your hands up in front of your face and stare down at your palms as if there’s an answer in them somewhere, if only you could see it.

“I just can’t keep doing this…” you finally murmur, letting your arms fall into your lap.

Apprehensive, Ulthane prompts, “Doing what?”

You don’t reply right away, and his heart is steadily making its way up into his throat by the time you pose a question, disregarding his own. “You ever think… it might be better to just… like… get it over with?” you ask, eyes pinched in tormented thought, “Instead of waiting for something even worse to happen?”

Suddenly, Ulthane hates the idea of you being so close to that two-hundred-foot drop.

The hand he’s braced on the ground to keep himself steady curls into a fist until his knuckles dig achingly into the wood underneath him. “No,” he all but growls in response, curling his lips back at an unseen threat, “It wouldn’t be better.”

“God…” Your head tips back, the base of your skull clunking against the ridge behind you as you squint tearfully up at the maker. If he looks closely, he almost imagines he can see the full moon reflected in your eyes. “There’s no future for us… We have nothing left. Everything humanity has ever worked for… millions of years of history… it’s gone, Ulthane. It’s just gone.” Another couple of tears slip past your lashes and dribble down your cheeks. Your bottom lip quivers. “There’s no coming back from this… is there? So why are we still bothering?”

Suddenly, the maker hauls himself to his boots – and he’ll be damned if he acknowledges the spike of real, unfamiliar fear that jabs him through the ribs. “Stop it,” he warns… Begs…

For a moment longer, you just look at him with that tired, beaten frown, then you lower your eyes and the moonlight disappears from them, leaving them dark and shadowed by your eyelashes.

“Yeah,” you sniff, “That’s why I’ve been quiet lately…”

Ulthane’s blood rushes through his ears and he’s struck with the urge to start pacing up and down along the tree’s outer path. Later, he’ll recognise it as adrenaline.

“Stone’s breath…” he huffs mindlessly, scrubbing a hand down over his beard. He’s bristling against an enemy he can’t put his fist through, and it wars with the maker’s reflex.

This is… this is so much bigger than he is… and that’s saying something.

He thought he’d be prepared for this if it happened. But all he’s been doing is burying his head in the sand, hoping that optimism and a steady, day to day routine of survival would keep the humans from losing their last dregs of hope.

The surrender in your voice, your eyes, your words… It’s like you’re there already.

What if he says the wrong thing? What if he can’t pull your toes back off the ledge?

What would Azrael say? What would Eideard say?

Something poignant, no doubt. About how hope is never lost so long as you’re still alive to fight for it.

But Ulthane is a defender, not a sage. His priority is your safety.

In a moment of clarity, he clings to that one fact, pushing for reassurance above all else.

Rattled, though not quite ready to face why, the Old one levels a finger at you, pointing it determinedly down at your face. “Now, you listen to me,” he starts, “I won’t hear no talk about how you’re not comin’ back from this. Moment you start thinkin’ like that, it’s really over. And I’ll certainly not be lettin’ you think those demon’s’ll be the end of you. Alright? You’re livin’ to the end of a long, safe life, so help me Stonefather.”

At the end of his reprimand, you try to smile up at him, a pitying thing that tells him everything he needs to know.

You don’t believe him.

“You have a future,” he continues, steadfast, “I’ll give you a future. I’ll make one for you, carve it out with my bare hands if I have to.”

He’d drag you kicking and screaming to the life you deserve if it comes down to it.

Eyes drooping heavily, you start to look down again.

“M’not lettin’ you lose hope,” Ulthane growls in response, and this time, he can’t stop himself from reaching down and curling a fist around you, gathering you up into his palm until you sit small and vulnerable at its centre.

You look a little surprised by the motion, blinking wetly into the old smith’s scowl as he raises you to his face and levels you with a look so full of conviction, you recoil from it, as if pushed by his sheer force of will. “You’re makin’ it through this,” he tells you unwaveringly, warm breath brushing against your collarbones. “You have to see how it turns out.”

“Even if it hurts?” you ask in a wobbly voice.

He stops just short of saying that he wouldn’t let anything hurt you. But that isn’t what you need to hear. He’ll prove it to you through action.

“Even then,” he relents instead.

Resignation settles across your face then, but it isn’t the same as it was before. It’s a kind of acceptance of the inevitable, but the inevitable isn’t death.

It’s Ulthane Blackhammer.

“But…” Still, you protest. “But I’m so fucking tired, Ulthane.”

Without hesitation, he shrugs a shoulder and says, “I’ll carry you.”

“That’s not what I-“

“- I know what you meant,” the maker cuts you off, fixing you with a sharp eye, “F’you’re tired. I’ll carry you. I’m a fair bit strong, case you hadn’t noticed. But don’t go forgettin’; you’re a fighter.”

You try to shake your head with a weak laugh, but he catches your chin with a crooked forefinger and tilts your face back towards him. “You are,” he insists, meeting your owlish gaze, “Been fightin’ to keep goin’ since day one. I… can see that now.”

He really can. He’s just sorry he never told you he noticed before.

“You think you can’t come back from this? You’re wrong. You won’t know unless you try. N’those other humans in there-“ He jerks his head backwards towards the tree. “-They’re gonna need all the help they can get to rebuild. You think Jones’d remember to feed himself without you remindin’ him?

There! At last, the minutest wobble of your lips as they twitch upwards at their corners.

Chest swelling with a modest injection of triumph, Ulthane cocks his own grin at you whilst you wipe your eyes on the sleeve of your jacket.

“Now, you just let ol’ Ulthane worry about those demons,” he announces, “You worry about gettin’ some proper shuteye. Can’t teach Elanya to play cards if you’re noddin’ off every five minutes, ey?”

A laugh this time. It’s a soft, warped thing with too much moisture, but it’s still a laugh. He counts that as a win.

There’s still the same, bone-deep languor clinging to your face, yet even that is a vast improvement to the indifference you’ve been displaying of late. Quirking your head to one side, you regard the maker ponderously for a minute, brows knitting across your forehead.

Then, “You really care about us, don’t you?”

Caught off guard, Ulthane’s ears tip down, and he instinctively glances over his shoulder at the hollow to check that nobody is lurking there before returning his attention to you, lifting one shoulder in a bashful shrug.

“Well… I, erm…” Clearing his throat, he lowers his voice and shoots you a gruff look. “Don’t you go spreadin’ that around…”

As if it wasn’t as plain as the nose on his face.

Eager to change the subject, though not so eager to be rid of that fond, sombre look he's receiving, the maker twists his head around and bobs it towards the tree's entrance. "Ready to head back in?" he broaches, "You can sleep down by the anvil on my cowl, if you want." One of the beds would be better for you, but... selfishly perhaps, he wants you close tonight.

You seem to agree, offering the maker a shy nod in return.

"Yeah," you acquiesce, leaning back into the pads of his fingers that curve up behind you, providing support when your jaws part with a wide yawn.

Trying not to smile fondly at the sight, Ulthane begins tromping steadily back inside the tree, his nerves settling down as he carries you nearer to the light and warmth.

"Ulthane?"

"Mm?" he rumbles in response.

"Thanks... for caring, I mean. I owe you one."

His footsteps falter just for a second. Abaddon's face springs unbidden into his mind's eye. A golden sword and a promise that all would be well...

Swallowing hard, Ulthane wafts the memories away like a bad smell and offers his dour response.

"You don't owe me a thing."