#he never wore the maid dress

[evrensadwrn]

he is a LIAR. he never WORE it

(blood attempt under the cut :3)

[venmondiese]

LITTLE BOX FULL OF SURPRISES

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

based on this request⭑.ᐟ

-ˋˏsummary: The maimed one-eyed prince marries the most beautiful woman on earth. She is dutiful, beautiful and perfect, but Aemond can't stand when someone, specially his uncle, look with desire at what it is his. ✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tully!Original Female Character ✧word count: 3.1k ✧Warnings: : MDNI 18+, p in v sex, dom/sub undertones, face slapping, spitting on the mouth, degradation kink, possesive Aemond, Aemond is WHIPPED by his wife.

Every time his grandsire and his mother spoke of a Lady of great beauty coming to King’s landing, he rolled his eye. 

Even when they present a small portrait, small to fit his palm, he does not seem impressed. Perhaps it is too small, perhaps it is too pretentious. Either the painter exaggerated your features or he couldn’t properly paint a small portrait. But he was curious, after all. Named the most beautiful woman on earth, blessed by the Gods. 

He doesn’t doubt that Lady Tully was beautiful. Perhaps she was truly a beautiful woman, with her long red hair, ‘like fire’ said the letter. But being called The Maiden on Earth seems exaggerated to him.

His grandsire had told them about the implications of his betrothal, about how important it was to have secured the Riverlands, since Grover Tully was an old lord, and will not understand reason. To have his most beloved granddaughter as a princess, was the only way to win his approval, and support. 

Aemond finally meets her on the little garden near the Weirwood tree. They had been serving little cakes, as some lords and ladies talked nearby, not even half of court was here, and he liked the quietness. That made him less self-conscious.

She was near the table, her hand hovering above all the treats she could get, smiling as she watches them with interest. She is expressive, he realises. He hasn’t seen her face, only her back and the day her hand moves and her head is tilted, curious about the southern gastronomy.

 “My lady” Aemond says softly. 

She turns so gracefully, and she is surprised to see him. Her hand still extended, and she quickly moves it to grab her skirts, and do a courtesy to him. She has a sweet smile, and she speaks. 

 “My prince” she says, a bit surprised. “I… I didn’t expect you.”

“I must admit I came a bit earlier than agreed…” he murmurs, looking behind him and then back to her.

The most beautiful maiden on earth fell short to her. She was… something else, in the best way possible. She had that curiosity, that life in her eyes, as she smiles at him, her lips are perfect, and he could see that her maids probably used those Myrish lip taints, for they were a very natural red colour, almost matching with her hair. Her dress was magnificent, wearing the colour of her house, red and blue decorating everything. Even her eyes, blue like the opaque blue rivers in the Riverlands, and her hair, red like flames, matched with her house colours. She wore fish details, her earrings and in her dress pattern. But she was wearing a collar with a seven pointed star in it, and he sighed at her beauty. She was breathtaking.

“Oh, well, so it seems…” she says as she smiles a bit sheepishly, looking at him. “It’s a fine castle, my prince. It does have its own beauty.” 

Aemond has never thought of the red Keep as something beautiful, at all. He always wanted to live in Dragonstone, but his wish was not granted.  But, if she says so, it must be true, and with good reason.

“You think so?” 

She grabs a lemon cake, and eats it carefully as she nods. “Yes! And you also have a Weirwood tree here. When we made our trip here, we passed through Raventree, and their Weirwood was a bit… depressing…” she says, smiling sweetly. “But here it’s very beautiful. More… alive”

As she talks, he watches her closely. Even when his mother, his sickly father and his siblings arrive, when his mother gives him a scolding look for arriving earlier, he sort of watches you in silence, his chest swelling with an air of mystery. 

“You are not what I expected” he admits, quietly between the two of them as their parents talked about the betrothal.

“No?” She asks smiling, licking her finger from the cream of the lemon cakes. “You’ll see I’m a little box full of surprises” 

That’s the beginning.

A ceremony on the Sept, as she stood next to him, reciting vows and the cloak with dragon sigils is on her shoulders, left behind the fish one. Aemond has never looked so smug and proud. The bedding ceremony was… traditional. Having a crowd was awkward for both, surely, but Aemond made it all more comfortable for her, covering her body with his, and not exposing her, at his own expense.

“Just focus on me” He murmurs closely to her face, as she looks at him with wide eyes. He was between her open legs, and he insisted for her to keep her chemise on, while he had no problem in nudity “Your septa and mother could have told you…”

“Not much” She whispers back.

“Not much” he repeats, moving a strand of hair out other face, tenderly watching her face for discomfort. “But I will be gentle, and… we’ll learn together. Yes?”

“Yes. Thank you…, husband” she says, and he feels a prideful pressure on his chest. He was her husband. The most beautiful woman’s husband. 

And she was always thankful for his patience and gentleness towards her, and she stuck to him to all times, even when she was in court, charming everyone around. Her arm was always interlocked with his, and referred to him as ‘her sweet husband’. 

Love came quieter than expected, as they laughed on their bed at nights, having picnics in the gardens or going to the Riverlands in Vhagar together, swimming on Riverrun’s rivers, and just… enjoying each other. It was more than love when they had their first son, a lovely and happy baby, mismatched eyes, with both purple and a deep blue. Aemond adored his son, his little Daerion, and he adored you more.

“Black looks well on you” Aemond comments. 

Daerion’s blabbing was a way to agree with Aemond’s statement as the maid finished putting on her headband, the same tone of her dress. Her orange hair is in braids, two simple ones with some gold details on them, and some dragon earrings that he gifted her. She was gorgeous, and all his. 

“Your wardrobe hasn’t changed” she states looking at him. “Went from velvet black to dark black” 

Aemond walks over to his wife, watching her being just so beautiful like that, sitting, waiting peacefully like a porcelain doll.

“Mhm... As if changing colours would make everything amicable…” Aemond murmurs, taking Daerion in his arms, and he allows him to play with his hair. “Does father know it’s useless? Rhaenyra wearing green won’t change anything, nor will my mother wearing black. HIs voice comes as a grunt as he bounces their baby. 

“It’s foolish when you put it that way” her voice is tender, sweet, and somewhat like velvet. He is still besotted by her, as maidens do with knights. He watches the shape of her breasts on that dress, how the cleavage is so delightful for his eyes and the roundness of her tits that make the fabric around stretch a bit. As if the tailor always got the measurement of her chest wrong on purpose, which he won’t complain about. 

Her bright red hair contrasts with how the black makes her skin look paler, and her eye colour deeper.

“They shouldn’t call you the Maiden herself anymore” Aemond murmurs softly, walking closer to her, still holding Daerion in his arms. “You are like the mother herself. Like the Goddess Syrax of Old Valyria. Beautiful, strong… so alluring…”

“You never seem to run out of compliments” her hands move to grab her rings, and the one he likes the most is the sapphire one, just to symbolise her marriage to him. 

“Never, more so if a goddess like you is my wife. All mine…”

“My prince, my lady.” It’s a Kings guard who interrupts. “Supper is ready, and Queen Alicent asks for you both to arrive earlier…”

“Hm” Aemond says, leaving Daerion in the wet nurse’s arms.

“Thank you, ser Willis” the knight smiles at his wife before walking to wait outside the door.

He rolls his eye as he leans to kiss his son’s forehead, caressing his chubby cheek and he smiles fondly at his sight. The little freckles he has that he inherited from his mother, something that Aemond loved. Yet remembering how unnecessary kind his wife is… annoys him.

Kindness and sweetness only helped to enhance her beauty and popularity, and he also loved that. She was beautiful, perfect in any way, tied to a One-Eyed maimed monster, like him. All he could offer to you, that it was worthy, was the luxuries of the royalty, all the kids you want and his unconditional love. He was at your mercy.

He has one eye, but he is not blind. Any man here on the keep, would pull their breeches down if his wife asked so. They would even cut their own throats for her mere delight, and Aemond would be one of them. 

“Goodbye, my sweet love” the sweet motherly tone makes little Daerion squeal happily, extending his little arms for his mother. She kisses both his hands, later to wave to him as they leave the room, arms interlocked.

Aemond always bites his tongue when his lady wife is kind to men. He hates it, yet he knows she does it for the kindness of her heart, and not any ulterior motives.

He was smitten for her, moving the chair for her to sit, and helping her, her dress not getting stuck anywhere or her headpiece, and only then, he sat on his own seat at peace.

“I heard they might have some goose” she murmurs to him, as the room fills. Her fingers caress his arm, and he hears her every word. “I’d eat it all if I could, you know” she teases.

“Mhm.” Aemond murmurs. Even if he is besotted, his facade is still the same; stoic, cold, distant. Yet to her, his gaze was always loving.

“I would only share it with you” she states proudly, leaning to give him a peck on the lips, before standing up once the King is brought to the room.

As he stands, he doesn’t miss how his uncle watches her. Aemond might not know the man personally, but he knew the look of desire in a man’s face. Much more when they looked at her 

The supper is mostly… tense, and awkward. But Lady Tully is charming to everyone and even toasts as well for Baela and Rhaena in their betrothal, congratulating them and speaking nothing but wonders about her own married life, making Aemond wear the slightest, yet most smug smirk on his face.

“Amazing” she says, with her mouth full as she eats the goose, and Aemond nods, a hand rubbing her back so she doesn’t choke for eating so quickly. “Here, my love” she says, extending the fork with a bit of the goose that she adores so much. 

Aemond eats shamelessly, enjoying the taste as he nods softly, approving, which makes her smile. His hand resting on the back of her chair, as he drank his wine quietly, watching his sister and nephew go to dance together. He is highly unaware of the prying eyes that watch them both.

Helaena and Jacaerys’ giggles and the movement of her dress is enough for lady Tully to watch curiously. Her husband was not one for dances, as he had not a good perception of objects with one eye. She never pressured him, and accepted the fact. 

She always would say how Daerion once he would be tall enough to walk, she’d dance with her son all the songs and dances, and Aemond approved that idea. 

“Lady Tully” It was Daemon Targaryen’s deep voice, and she looks at him a bit surprised, leaving her fork on the table as she covers her mouth, her hand unconsciously fetching wine, which Aemond hands her his. 

“Prince Daemon” her melodic voice is a bit confused, and more so when the uncle of her husband extends his hand. The green fabrics from his suit are deep, yet he still wore dragon details on it, and he looked smug about it.

She turns to watch Aemond, his jaw tensing as he looks at Daemon. And he has to physically stop himself from cutting his uncle’s throat when his wife walks with him to join Helaena and the bastard. Aegon and he share a look, both upset and annoyed, as their wives are so freely dancing with other men. 

Aemond watches her beautiful face, frowning as Daemon talks about something, whispering it closely so no one else hears it. His grip on the edge of his seat is strong; knuckles’ turning white as his jaw is tense, not looking pleased at all. And then, he hears her warm laugh, giggling at what he said, as her whole face brightened up.

Once they serve the pig in front of him and hear the little bastard giggles, it is enough to send him through a fit of rage. 

He literally drags his wife by the arm after everything went downhill, after saying that stupid toast, after the Velaryon’s boys attempt to defend themselves (very badly) and both her husband and her good brother humiliate them.

“Dancing with him” Aemond murmurs, walking to their shared chambers, not minding seeing the servants stop and look at them both. “Accepting it, and giggling to his jokes as he shamelessly flirts with you” 

“It was politeness...” her voice is weak when protesting.

“Did he mocked me for having only one eye?” He asks roughly. “Did he told you how beautiful your are and how full your breasts are?”

She opens her mouth a bit taken aback by his lewds remarks. “I am dutiful to what it’s expected of me. I wouldn't have allowed him to mock you”

“You should…”

“My family’s words are Family. Duty. Honour. And you know I care for that very deeply.” she says as she tries to keep up with his long steps “And I did just what was asked…”

“You are mine” he states, walking inside his chambers as his grip does nothing but become stronger. “My wife and you are… putting yourself in display for my uncle, laughing at his flirting. I know your family words are important for you, but this is… beyond that”

Perhaps it was her confused eyes or her angelic face, but he loosened up his grip yet he kept talking. 

“He wanted you! To have you below him and fuck you like a… wench or… or some kind of…”

“I know” 

Aemond turns drastically, eye twitching at his wife's words.

“You knew?”

“It was being cordial. It was duty. To amend broken ties…”

“I will break and burn and turn into ashes any ties from you to him” he says exasperated, insane with jealousy. His eye is wide, twitching in rage as he cannot believe this. She was his wife. 

Seeing Daemon’s hand grip on her hip, almost groping her, made him insane. Because he knew that Lady Tully, beautiful as the Maiden, a beloved goddess amongst the poor and rich, could do so much better than him. Yet, she still chooses him.

“Get naked” he says simply.

“What?”

“You heard me just right. Get. Naked.” He says again, not wanting a negative. 

Her whine is endearing, as she starts taking off little by little. Her gown, the diminutive buttons at the back, her collar, and her hellish headpiece.

“Let me” he grumbles as he helps her take off the headpiece, tossing it aside more carefully.

She is possibly the most beautiful when she is naked. Round breasts, even fuller thanks to lactating, and her body was tempting enough to anyone. 

“Undress me” he says instead. He took delight when she was the one serving him, in this way. He loved to see her desperation, her eagerness for him. His jerkin is out in no time, and she kneels to undo his breeches.

Because she had an angelic face, but it was only he who knew how obsessed she was with his cock. She could spend hours lying on the bed, sucking his cock as she rested her head on his abdomen as Aemond read. She wouldn’t even suck him off properly, his wife would only suck the tip, give kitten licks, and lazily press some kisses. During hours and hours. 

“I forbid you to speak to any one of them. Ever again” 

Confused eyes turned up to look at him, as the careful hands undid his breeches, almost a bit eagerly. “Forbid?”

“Hm. It’s what I said, is it not?” He says, narrowing his eye as if asking to be defied. 

“But it’s mad” she protests, frowning. “I promised Jace and Baela a tour in the gardens, and it would be impolite if I didn’t spoke-”

“Too bad” his voice cuts the conversation, and he is not leaving it up for conversation. 

“You are being irrational...”

“And you are being a fucking brat” he spats, grabbing her chin as he bites his lower lip. “I’ll show you how irrational I can get”

Her eyes watched him, almost too innocent for her own good. It made him hard; he could feel his cock stirring on his untied breeches. 

“Fucking slut, giving yourself to other men” his tone is harsh, but by the way her knees move, to accommodate the weight as he grips her chin, he knows that she is aroused. So is he.

Lady Tully was beautiful, and a box of surprises with everything, he realised with time. He had everyone trapped under her charms, and kept her secrets very private. And he loved it.

“Whore.”  His hand leaves her chin, only to move it to slap her across the face. 

She gasps, her face turned. It wasn’t harsh, yet the sting was burning on her skin, as she placed a hand on her cheek. To foreign eyes, he just slapped his wife. But he has done it before, to her request. Aemond knew that if his wife was enraged by that, he would have been beaten over and over, because she was kind, but didn’t stand for people dishonouring her. 

Aemond, more gently places his hand back on her chin, pulling it so she can look at him. “You will learn your place” Aemond says, as she looks up at him, with those meek eyes of hers. He loved her eyes. “Open your mouth”

 He leaned down, his mouth opening over hers, so near that she could feel his hot breath. His hand goes to wrap the bright red hair of hers, and his firm grip got her head secured. 

Perhaps Aemond would kiss those perfect lips, yet he pulled back and released a strand of saliva directly into her waiting mouth. Aemond’s fingers tightened the grip in her hair, as his other hand came up to wipe away the excess of spit. 

“There is my good girl” he murmurs, looking at her. “Mhm. I’m going to teach you a lesson” 

Aemond lifts his wife to her feet as if she weighs nothing, his grip on her hair almost dragging her to the bed, forcefully as he heard her little whines. He had a moment or two to decide which position suited best, for then to grab her hips and guide her to be on her hands and knees. He grabs the long red hair once again, angling her head to the side, because Aemond needed to see her face the same way he needed air.

She was soaking wet, and that is a satisfaction for her husband. Aemond accommodated behind her, watching her body as he positioned his cock at her entrance.

 “Such a sweet little cunt” he growls, his eye flashing with lust and desire as he thrusts into her from behind, in one swift motion. 

Her whimpers and pants are loud, as she grips on the sheets as her back is arched. She was desperate to be filled and fucked, not something unusual. The unusual thing was that… nothing happened.

“Aemond” She whines, moving her head to watch him from above her shoulder. She had that desperate, pitiful appearance that he loved.

“Yes, my love?” He asks almost nonchalantly, watching her ass, and how his cock is fully sank inside her 

She can barely think straight as his dick is deep inside her, throbbing in her walls as she just needs him to start fucking her. “Eh… move?”

“I don’t think so” he murmurs, his hand moving to caress her ass to his liking. “You’ll have to fuck yourself on my cock” His wife opens her mouth, confused as her eyebrows frown in hesitation. “Show me how much you need me” he says simply, he was fucking teasing her. “How much you need my cock”

Feeling the thick length of Aemond’s cock inside her, she accommodates on her hands, slowly moving away just to sink down onto his cock again. Her slick walls gripping him tightly as she impales herself on his thick cock. 

“Aemond… Fu-uck, you feel… oh, yes…” She whimpers, and her voice is filled with pleasure as her pussy starts getting pounded as she liked so much. If Lady Tully liked something in life, was probably getting fucked until her mind is mush.  

Her hips start moving on their own accord, as she grips on the sheets, trying to keep a stable posture to move her hips better, as her moans are obscenely loud, trying to get his cock deeper and deeper. Aemond leaves a groan, watching how she sinks down on his cock, and it is an image that would make any man cum in seconds. He truly was the luckiest man ever. 

He feels the fire in his stomach tighten, as her moans grew more and more delighted to the feeling of his cock pounding into her. At first, she had thought of it as promiscuous, and asked the maiden for forgiveness, but gods damn her if it wasn’t the best thing in life to get a good fuck from the love of her life.

“So responsive when getting a cock in your needy pussy” Aemond mutters, as one of his hands raises to spank her ass, the sharp slap only serves for the sounds coming out of her mouth to increase, and he spanks her again, and again, and again, to his own amusement and delight. 

“Please, Aemond…” 

“You just love misbehaving with me, because you know I will put you in your place” he says, moving forward to her body to grip his hair with his right hand, his left goes right next to her hand gripping the sheets to hold his weight. “Because you are a needy whore” he states, gripping her hair as she nods forcefully. 

“Yes” she says, in that whiny tone of hers. He knows her reactions yet every time they aroused him even more. “Yes, please”

The grip on her hair only serves to help him push her back against his cock, his hips now making the effort to start properly pounding into her cunt as she loved; hard, rough and at a deliciously good pace. Her body is practically numb as he starts to use her body for his own pleasure, just as she loved.

Who would have said that the most beautiful woman on earth loved being used by her husband? Definitely not him. She was the most perfect creature, in any way. Smart, funny, pretty, a good wife and mother. And yet she always craved his cock, like the filthiest whores of Flea Bottom. 

“Let those bastards hear you, hm?” He asks, as he leans to speak lowly near her ear. “How it’s your husband who pleases you. Perhaps my uncle will get the notion that you are mine. Only mine. Fucking mine. That fucking dodderer will die by my hand if he ever dares to lay his eyes on you” 

The mere thought infuriates him, making his hips slam into her harder and more feral. Rutting into her cunt in an animalistic pace as he has to clench his jaw in rage. His hand on her hair and the other on her waist, he groans at the feeling of her soaking cunt. 

The sobs he hears as his cock keeps on pounding into her sweet spot, makes him smug enough, and even more aroused. His sweet lady wife, so prone to cry when she had too much pleasure when she got overwhelmed with lust. 

“Please, please…” the round of pleas comes up with her tears, and Aemond moans, shamelessly, as he was so close. “I can’t t-take i-it… anymo-ore” 

“Oh, you will” he says through gritted teeth as he lets go of her hair, only for his other hand to go to her shoulder to help her get his dick deeper. “I will breed you. Cum so deep that my seed takes root, and everyone will know who you belong to.” 

Her nods between sobs, pleas and trembling legs help him pound in feral thrusts into her, feeling her cunt already milking him, inner walls attempting to squeeze his dick inside and never let it go.

“Cum for me, my love” he murmurs, still fucking her deep and nice how she likes it. “My beautiful wife” he murmurs, besotted by her as she cries, her tears rolling down her rosy cheeks with little freckles that he adored. 

The little spasms of her body, her wails and the way her cunt squeezes him, it’s enough to drive him to the edge, holding her body down into his cock as he moans loudly, rolling his eye back in pleasure as he cums hard. She whimpers, whining a bit as his seed just keeps on filling her, his balls tensing up as his grip will probably leave her delicate skin with red marks.

He is caring afterwards, as he cleans her with a towel, or when he places her in bed and covers her, lying by her side each time as she snuggles to him.

“You have to know–” she says softly, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. “You are hot when jealous”

Aemond huffs, grumbling about it a bit as he seems reluctant. It amuses her.

“You always find me hot, I could be… Killing a chicken and you would be leaking”

“Get on my place for a moment, please, just imagine how your muscles would flex” she says dead serious and he rolls his eye amused, as the corners of his lips gives him away.

The fixation on his hair would be a problem if he didn’t love her so much. Aemond allows his lady Tully to braid it as they talk in bed. 

“I didn’t really mean it” he says softly. 

“Hm?” She asks curious, her fingers working on a single small braid on his hair.

“You can talk to them” he says through gritted teeth. “Just-... not too much”

Her little laugh warms his heart. “Very well” she says amused. “For each sentence I say to them, I will suck you”

“I retract myself, talk to them very much, all you like” he says, and it has her giggling. “You know I love you…” he says; as it comes into his view her concentrated face, her tongue coming out of her pink lips as she was focused. He could see the freckles that he so adored, and her pretty eyes. How he loved her.

“You know I love you more…” she says fixing his braid to stick to his hair. Her mouth forms a pleased smile as she sits, as she inspects her work. “Yes. Seems pretty nice”

He could feel the hair strand tight, and he moved his hand to touch his head. “What in the Seven Hells you did to my hair, woman?” 

She looks very pleased as she giggles, her body accommodating against his chest as she shrugs innocently, as he keeps on playfully trying to decipher what his wife did to his hair. 

[hyunsvngs]

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! - stepdad!bang chan x fem!reader

wc: 10.2k

cw: chan is your mother's boyfriend and you want to fuck him, chan is 30 and reader is described to be younger & in college, lix is a menace, changbin is a moral compass, you do not care about morals, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: you're home for the holidays, and your mother - who you can't stand - has a new, young, hot boyfriend. it's such a good idea trying to seduce him.. right?

a/n: it's so here <3 my first commission! i hope u all love it <3 smut warnings under the cut ofc. i also tried a new format with this fic so pls let me know what u think?!?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: dirty talk, breeding kink, mutual masturbation, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampies, degradation, cumplay if u squint?, humiliation if u squint?, anal fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), edging maybe briefly, sex with feelings

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You hated going home for the holidays.

You were a rich kid, to put it simply. Your mother loved to leech off the men that she was with, marrying them quickly and trying to suck as much money as she could out of them in gifts and straight up cash before they eventually clued on and left her. It had been why your father had left when you were a mere infant, but you’d always lived in luxury due to the incessant payments that he was forced to give. You’d never met him, but there was a plus side - he was paying your college tuition, where you met your best friends.

Perhaps if you thought about it a bit more you’d realise that the only reason you went to college was to get away from your mother. She pissed you off, sauntering around the house in silk kimonos with a maid trailing behind her, pausing to look in mirrors so that she could choose where her next round of botox would hit. She frustrated you beyond belief, but you still had to go home for Christmas. Annoyingly early, too, because she had a surprise for you.

Okay, well, it wasn’t a surprise. She’d FaceTimed you a week earlier, an irritatingly wrinkle-free face popping up on the screen as she sipped mulled wine and revelled in your absence. She had a new boyfriend, she said. You’d love him, she said. Your opinion matters most to me, she said. The last one you knew to be a lie. God, you hated her. 

Still, you lugged your suitcase through the front door and huffed, booting the side with your foot to try and shake some of the snow off. No surprise, she hadn’t helped you in from your taxi. She hadn’t even come to get you from the airport a mere twenty minute drive away. You dropped the suitcase on the floor, giving it another kick just for good measure, and then you were trudging into the kitchen. You’d heard voices from there, so it had to be them.

“Oh, honey!” Your mother chirped upon seeing you. You couldn’t see the face of the man washing dishes behind her, his white shirt sleeves rolled up and back facing you. You didn’t care anyway. “You made it home safe, then.”

“Yeah. The taxi driver was super nice and let me call him mum,” You quipped. She furrowed her eyebrows, lips pursed. 

“Okay, you’re being weird already,” She mumbled, and then shook her head, shrugging it off. She walked to the man by the sink, spinning him around by his slender waist to display him to you. “This is Chan!”

You felt silly, stood in the kitchen doorway in oversized clothes and covered in ivory snow. The man’s eyes found you, shocked by your mother’s harsh manoeuvring, and he blinked with surprise at your figure. You blinked with surprise, too.

Chan was hot. Incredibly so, actually, and he looked young. Younger than your mother, with a big nose you wanted to ride and plush lips parting as he raised one hand to wave at you, still wet with soapy dishwasher. You wanted to lick him clean. The white shirt he wore stretched across broad shoulders, and the sleeves were fit to burst around incredibly toned biceps. You allowed your gaze to wander down, eyes focusing on the thick thighs in the black dress trousers he wore. 

There was no way this was real. “Okay,” You burst out laughing, eyes darting between Chan and your mother. “And, who is Chan? A friend? A colleague? He’s not your boyfriend.”

Chan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “No, I am. I’m your mother’s boyfriend, sweetheart.”

His voice was deep - too deep, deep enough to haunt your dreams and those late night sessions you had in your bed with your trusty vibrator. This was going to be trouble. You were going to be trouble.

“You’re shitting me,” You couldn’t get the amused smile off of your face. No fucking way. Your mother hadn’t bagged that. “You’re fucking with me. You have to be. Mum, he’s closer to my age than he is to yours.”

“I’m thirty, actually,” He mumbled, looking sheepish. Your mother stared at you in shock, jaw dropped at your brazenness. 

“I rest my case,” You concluded, nodding decisively. When the two of them just continued to stare, you bristled slightly, starting to hop from one foot to the other. Awkward. “You… are you actually together?”

“Yes, honey,” Your mother confirmed, still looking shocked. You scoffed.

“Okay, I really need to go, actually,” You gushed, turning around to leave the kitchen. “I’m- I’m going to my room. Really nice to meet you, Chan, really.” 

Shooting upstairs, you completely ignored your suitcase still leaking snow all over the hardwood floors and darted into your bedroom. It still looked exactly how you’d left it, band posters all over the walls and teddies littering the end of your bed. You threw yourself on top of the mattress, fingers yanking your phone out of your pocket and clicking the button on the most recent group call on FaceTime. Immediately, your college best friends picked up.

“There’s already a problem?” Felix scrunched his nose up, face way too close to the camera. Changbin was on the other side, face looking confused in the little square designated to him on your phone screen.

“I just met my mother’s boyfriend.”

“Oh, right, how did that go?” Changbin questioned, tilting his head to the side. You caught sight of your face in your own little square, flushed and appalled.

“He is thirty years of age, Changbin,” You began. Felix gasped, tiny hand moving to cover his mouth. “He is thirty years of age, and he is really fucking hot.”

“Oh my god,” Felix mumbled, muffled behind his hand. “Oh my god, you have to fuck him.”

Changbin choked on air. “She has to- No, Felix, no!”

“No, I can’t do that. It would be fucked up,” You mused. Or.. “Wait, would it even be that fucked up? He is closer to my age. I hate my mother.”

Felix’s hand fell, and he giggled before speaking in his trademark goblin voice - “Fuck him.”

“Don’t!” Changbin shrieked, his phone shaking in his hand. “I really think this is a bad idea.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Felix grinned, looking smug. “I’d do it.”

“There’s not a lot you wouldn’t do,” Changbin retorted. Felix stuck his tongue out at him. You, however, were silent, musing on the situation and staring at your wall. Could you do it? Changbin noticed, sighing. “Baby, please no.”

You licked your lips, nodding. You could do it. You wanted to do it - needed it, even. Those biceps were going to plague your life forever otherwise. “Operation fuck my mother’s boyfriend is a go.”

Felix screamed in delight. Changbin ended the call.

SATURDAY

It was time. Your mother was out at brunch with some friends, and you had plans to invade Chan’s personal space because you had a feeling he’d be too polite to tell you otherwise. You knew he’d set up the spare room as his own home studio, because your mother had delighted in telling you how Chan was a super successful music producer and was often tinkering away in there these days. You were going to let yourself in, try to get to know him a bit.

The knock you landed on the door was anything but subtle. Your fist rapped on the door and you heard a little hum in response, so you swung open the door, eyes landing on Chan hunched over his desk. He looked even younger like this, beanie pulled down over dark curls and headphones positioned on his head. He continued to stare at the file on his computer, head bobbing absentmindedly, so you strode up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

He spun around on his computer chair, blinking confusedly at you. “Oh, hello.”

“Hi,” You beamed. “Sorry about last night. I was rude. I was feeling kinda weird, y’know, with the travelling.”

“No, I completely get it,” Chan put his hands up as if to diffuse the atmosphere. You nodded, still smiling. Chan stared at you when you didn’t respond instantly, and you crossed your hands behind your back, pressing against the plaid pattern of the dress you’d chosen for today. It was all part of the plan - the tight, short dress was perfect for seduction. He looked down at your chest, before clearing his throat, reverting his gaze to your eyes. “Um… did you need something, by the way?”

You gasped, as if remembering. “Oh, yeah! I did. My mother told me you were a music producer, and I was really curious. I was wondering if you’d show me some stuff…?”

It was Chan’s turn to smile, nodding excitedly. “Of course. Here, put these on.”

He linked two fingers around his headphones and handed them to you, to which you obediently put them over your ears. He was quieter now, but you could still slightly hear him mumbling as he found a spare chair for you to sit on. Your eyes scanned the files, eventually fixating on a file titled Drive. That one had to be dirty.

“Okay, so. I have this one, it’s my most recent one, and-”

“I want to listen to that one,” You cut him off, pointing at the song. When you turned to look at him, he was biting his lip nervously, pink tinting the ends of his ears and his cheeks. “What is it, Chan?”

“You- that one is a little, uh… heh. A little inappropriate.”

Unsurprisingly, you darted over his desk to grab the computer mouse and double click on the file. Chan squealed, but you ignored him, listening to the song. You were right. It was dirty, the two singers crooning about something that was a thinly-veiled innuendo about driving. It took you a second and then you clicked. One of them was Chan. This was Chan singing, on a song about sex. God, could he get any hotter?

You slid one of the ear cups off of your ear, turning to Chan with a shit eating grin. “This is you singing? You’re really good, Chan.” You weren’t lying. He was really good, and it had you wondering why he was a producer and not singing.

“Yeah, well, it was just an experimental track. Me and my mate were just messing around,” Chan mumbled shyly, hand scratching the back of his neck. You tried to avoid staring at the way his biceps tensed in his tight t-shirt at the movement. He was still blushing, but you had to kick it up a notch.

“It is kinda inappropriate, though, isn’t it?” You chirped excitedly. Chan’s lips parted, as if he was looking for something to say. His eyes stared into your own, piercing and dark and all-consuming. “I think you’re a little dirty, Channie.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed at your use of the nickname. “That’s- you can’t say that. That’s inappropriate.”

“What?” You feigned shock-horror. Play dumb. “I can’t call you Channie? Why not?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Chan groaned, pointing an accusing finger at you. You giggled anyway, jumping up and slipping the headphones back onto his head. You made sure to trail your fingertips down his neck after doing so. He shivered noticeably. You smiled.

“That was super good, Channie, thank you.”

You didn’t miss his groan of disbelief as you bounded out of the room. You had him, and it was easier than you’d expected it to be.

SUNDAY

Something was happening. You weren’t sure what, just yet, but something was happening. Chan was acting a little weird after what happened the day before, and you’d already caught Felix and Changbin up on the nonsense plan you had. 

“I think you need to accept that this is just down to you having a fat crush on him and severe daddy issues,” Changbin mused, and you gasped. He was right though. This wasn’t completely about getting back at your mother in a sick, twisted way. You wanted him.

Phase two of your plan was underway as soon as you caught sight of him on the sofa. He was watching some cheesy Christmas movie, your mother tinkering away in the kitchen - when had she ever cooked? - so it was prime seducing time. He had one of the thick throw blankets over his lap, fingers playing with the fluffy fabric absentmindedly. You hopped into the living room in your short pyjamas, frowning at Chan when you felt the goosebumps on your legs.

“Whatcha watching?” You asked, making him jump when he realised your presence. He smiled nonetheless, motioning to the seat next to him, and you took it. You perched and ensured that you left no room between you both.

“Some cheesy film. The woman’s marrying a prince, I think.”

“Sounds awful. I can’t wait to watch it,” You smiled, and Chan chuckled, relaxing on the sofa. You managed to make it five whole minutes before you were rubbing your hands up your legs, trying to create a semblance of warmth. 

Chan turned to you, frowning. “Are you cold, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” You whined, pulling your legs up into your chest. “‘S cold in here, right?”

“C’mere,” He mumbled, reaching for the end of the blanket and throwing it over your lap. You hummed contentedly, inching a little closer under the guise of the cold weather. The blanket was warm. You were kind of jealous he’d been in such comfort this whole time while you’d been thinking of ways to get his cock inside your mouth. 

“Thanks, Channie,” Chan only nodded, continuing to watch the film. You had a feeling he was pretending to be so focused on it, given you weren’t sure he even knew the plot before your arrival. 

You squirmed on your seat, thrashing each way until you found yourself comfortable, hand splayed over Chan’s knee. He tensed under your touch. 

“You’re touching me, sweetheart,” He warned, his voice low and deep. You shivered, turning to him.

“Am I?”

“You are. You’re touching my leg underneath the blanket, aren’t you?”

You hummed. “Is that okay, Chan?”

Chan turned to you, his eyes not even holding any sign of shock. He knew what game you were playing, you realised, and maybe he was playing along. He licked his lips, head back against the sofa, and then he shrugged dismissively. 

“It doesn’t bother me.”

You left your hand there for the whole film. 

MONDAY

The showers at home were something you’d missed. The ones in college didn’t quite cut it - not even now that you lived with Changbin and Felix in your own student home. All three of you were young adults, after all, and that came with you being a little too messy.

At home, you didn’t have to worry about mess. Your mother had cleaners employed with your dad’s money anyway. Admittedly, you realised you were being a little spoiled, so you’d learned to clean up after yourself. The showers were still better, though. Bigger, and the water pressure hit you just right. 

Especially when you detached the shower head and pressed it to your clit. You felt pathetic. You’d only tried to seduce Chan for two fucking days, and there you were, legs shaking at the thought of him. Maybe it was the chase that got you feeling hot, or maybe it was the fact that you might actually be getting somewhere - you might actually be getting close to fucking him, muscles bulging as he ploughed into you. 

It had you pressing the shower head harder, your spare hand coming up to pinch your nipple. You whined, bucking your hips into the water stream. The steam was all over the bathroom by now, staining the shower with condensation and making your skin feel pruned and flushed. Or did you feel flushed from the thoughts of Chan? Maybe he’d fuck you the way you liked. He must have experience, you assumed, being a few years older than you. You thought about how he’d make you feel, how he’d touch you, and how you’d feel in his arms. You thought about how you’d feel when you came, and what it would be like to be with him. You wanted to feel him so badly.

Was he as big down there as he was everywhere else? Sure, he’s not too tall, but he’s every part a man. That much was clear. Would he bend you in half, pushing you into a mating press and fuck you raw the way you liked, cumming inside and letting you call him daddy and-

You wailed, legs trembling with one last buckle before you were cumming. You felt wet, too wet even just from the shower, and you belatedly realised you’d have to wash again. Ugh. This plan needed to end, like… yesterday. 

Coming out of the shower freshly washed, you wrapped a towel around your figure and checked the time on your phone. Your thumb slipped around the screen from the condensation in the bathroom, but the plan was going well. If you left the bathroom now, then hopefully Chan would be heading to bed, and he’d catch you in your towel. Ideally, he’d be so hot for you that he’d just have to have you, and then you could get the thoughts of him out of your head.

You burst out of the room in a flurry of steam and movement, almost tripping over your own feet when you noticed that it had actually fucking worked. Chan stood stock still at the other end of the hallway, his eyes fixated on the way the towel wrapped tightly around your chest, at risk of falling. You smiled, waving innocently, and he stalked towards you. He was seeing red. You could tell from the way he cornered you, crowding around you with the small advantage he had on your height.

“You need to stop this,” He mumbled, eyes looking at your mother’s bedroom door. He was playing a dangerous game. You were, too, and you both knew it. “I’m dating your mother. You need to stop this, sweetheart.”

“Stop what?” You tilted your head, acting confused. “I just had a shower.”

Chan scoffed, shaking his head. “I fucking heard you in there.”

Oh. You couldn’t hide your smirk that time. “Yeah, I missed that shower head. Why were you perving on me, Chan?”

Chan rubbed his temples. He wasn’t wearing a beanie today, only a hoodie and baggy joggers. You liked it. You could see his hair like this, dark and curly and frizzy on his head. He looked cute. Wait, what?

He took a deep breath. His eyes moved to fixate on you, tongue running over his teeth. “Why would I be perving on you?”

“Oh, don’t lie,” You crossed your arms over your chest. Chan’s eyes moved down to stare at where your tits bulged over the towel. “I bet you stood there for ages, cock hard in your cute joggers, listening to me moan in the shower. That’s a little fucked up, no? Thinking about your girlfriend’s daughter like that-”

You were cut off by him pushing you to the wall, lips slamming into yours. He bit into your mouth instantly, letting out a deep groan and hands moving to grab your ass through the towel. You let your lips part in a whimper, pushing your tongue into his mouth and running your hands through his hair. It was a filthy exchange of tongue and teeth, and by the end of it, you were gasping, grabbing him by the waist and trying to pull him closer. You pulled away, breathing heavily and your eyes still locked on each other. You both stood there, not speaking, as you both processed what you had just done. You both knew it was wrong, but you wanted it so bad.

Chan stepped back, breathing out a heavy sigh. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You watched in shock as he turned around, walking into your mother’s bedroom and leaving you there. You were wet again. This was getting ridiculous now. 

In your room, Felix screamed so loud you had to turn the volume down on your phone. Changbin choked on air again. 

TUESDAY

You hadn’t seen Chan all day. You presumed he was in his studio, working away on another track while your mother was in work. You were bored. Felix had been spending time with his family, and Changbin was out doing rich kid things that you could sympathise with. Thrashing around on your bed, annoyed and huffing, you decided you were just going to go and annoy Chan. It was your newly favourite pastime to get under his skin.

Stalking down the stairs to his studio, you paused when you heard a voice. Not just one voice, two voices. Was your mother there? No, no way. She never goes into that room, it’s his work room. You’d been in there though. You tried to suppress a grin at that realisation. 

The other voice was a man’s. Chan had a call on speakerphone, judging by the tinny effect covering the unknown male’s voice and Chan humming every so often. Who was the other man? A colleague, or just a friend?

“It’s fucking ridiculous, mate,” Chan groaned. You could barely hear him, and you held your breath, coming closer to the closed door. “I want her so bad, and it’s so wrong. I- I kissed her last night, Minho.”

There were a few yells from the other end of the phone. “You kissed her?! Chan, you fucking animal. You want her so bad, just fuck her. She’s clearly hoping that’s the outcome here.”

You grinned. You were.

“She’s- it’s outrageous. She walks around in practically nothing, and she’s got such a tight fucking body, man. She makes my dick so fucking hard, I’ve never felt anything like it before. Even when I met her, in the kitchen, she was-”

Chan cut himself off with a sigh. ‘Minho’ hummed, waiting for him to continue.

“She’s so bratty. She’s exactly the type of girl I would’ve gone for, before I met her mother.”

“Seriously?” Minho questioned, and Chan agreed. “You have to do it.”

“Minho-”

“No, Chan. I’m serious,” Minho’s voice was firm. “If she’s fucking you up this bad, you can’t have liked her mother that much, yeah? Just do it. You know it’s going to happen anyway.”

“It’s-” Chan began. You could imagine him rubbing his temples in distress behind the door. “She’s younger than me. I don’t want her to feel as though I’m taking advantage, y’know? The ball’s in her court.”

The ball has always been in your court.

“It sounds like she wants you to take advantage, to be honest,” Minho erupted in a fit of giggles, and you found yourself almost laughing along. Minho was annoyingly right. You only hoped he could get rid of that stick up Chan’s ass and get you a good dicking down.

It meant it was time for the next phase of your plan. You assumed Chan had wanted you, embarrassingly so, but you weren’t quite sure until he’d kissed you the day before. After hearing this conversation? Well, you had to do it.

You returned to your room, scribbling a quick note on a piece of paper. If Chan found this, which he would, it meant that he’d come to your room tomorrow night and you could maybe talk about what the fuck was going on. The sexual tension was too much for you, and now you knew he felt the same. Why were you beating around the bush? You had to make something out of this.

You ignored the stuttering of breath you heard when you slid the note under his door, and returned back to your room with a cocky grin.

WEDNESDAY

Chan hadn’t mentioned the note. You didn’t think he would, but you felt disappointed nonetheless. You’d woken up in the morning, eaten breakfast with him and your mother - cringing when he kissed her on the cheek when she left for work - and you’d even done the dishes yourself, letting him slip off to do some work in the studio. It was prime time for him to mention what you’d written, and he hadn’t. It was pissing you off.

Still, good things come to those who wait. You were confident. Felix had been egging you on all day over text, Changbin had been sending random upset emojis. It was perfect. 

Settling on your sheets at night, you felt a little pathetic. You’d lit a few candles, left the curtains just right on the window so that the moonlight billowed in, and Chan hadn’t arrived. Maybe he hadn’t received your note. No, there was no way - you practically heard his response through the door when he saw it slid under. He got the note. Perhaps you’d made him uncomfortable, made him withdraw from you despite all the progress you’d made. Why had you put in so much effort? You didn’t like him, not like that. Or did you? You felt ridiculous, almost like a child waiting for-

A knock on the door brought you out of your self-loathing thoughts, and you jumped up, swinging the bedroom door open. Chan immediately crowded inside of your bedroom, pressing the door shut softly. You stood there in silence, taking him in. He looked cosy, in a baggy hoodie and plaid pyjama bottoms. It was hard to believe he was dating your mother, especially when he looked so vulnerable like this - dark, curly hair still slightly wet from his shower, and his eyes blown wide with an unreadable emotion while he looked at you.

Chan sighed. “You’re really playing with fire. Do you know how this could look, me coming into your room at night? Do you know how wrong this is?”

You faltered. For the first time since meeting Chan, you felt as though he was angry at you. “I- I heard you on the phone, Channie. I thought you wanted me too.”

You watched in awe as Chan crossed your bedroom, groaning and throwing himself onto the bed. He was hard, erect in his bottoms. You blinked confusedly. He was hard just from being in here?

“I do want you,” Chan said, but it was muffled, hidden behind his hands that he had placed over his face in distress. He let them fall to his sides, staring up at the ceiling. “I want you so bad that it’s pissing me off beyond belief. I know what you’ve been doing too, trying to seduce me. It’s so pathetic it makes me feel hot, y’know?”

You giggled, following his journey across the room and settling next to him on the bed. You sat cross legged, comfortable in your long pyjamas. The candlelight flickered, casting a glow over his face, and he turned to look at you. He licked his lips, and then he let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

“This is ridiculous-”

“It’s ridiculous that you haven’t fucked me yet,” You responded, quick as a flash. Chan leaned up on his forearms, raising an eyebrow at you. Now was the time. You had to say it. “You know how bad I want you. I touched you up on the sofa, and you let me. You wanted me to, I think. Correct me if I’m wrong, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but-”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, and you’re not wrong,” Chan admitted. You could see the blush on his cheeks despite the dimly lit room.  He took a deep breath before continuing. “I want you, too.” 

Chan shot across the bed, leaning in and kissing you deeply, his hands tangling in your hair. It made you wet beyond belief that he just felt like he knew what he was doing, hands travelling down to your waist to softly press you into the sheets. His tongue swept into your mouth, pressing against yours and you whimpered, making him groan into the kiss. When his hands went up to your hair, he intertwined his fingers in the strands and pulled, making you gasp and let out a heady, hot breath. He pulled away, lips parted when he stared at you. 

“You are such a horny little thing, it’s so hot,” He mumbled, lips pressing to your neck. He bit your skin sharply, making you keen and spread your legs, allowing him to position his hips between your thighs. The movement pressed his bulge into your core, and you tried not to shift and move your hips in a rhythm of pleasure. His fingers traced over your skin, and he chuckled, a low, sexy sound that made your heart race. He pulled back, leaning back on his legs and staring at you, eyes blown wide with lust. “I want to see you touch yourself.”

You paused. “What?”

“I want to know what you like. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow night. How’s that sound?” He was propositioning you, teasing you, and you were falling for it - hook, line and sinker. 

You gave him a nod. Right. Touching yourself for him - that was something you could do. This was just another Wednesday for you, you loved putting on a show, especially for a man who was rock hard and obviously desperate for you. But with Chan… why did you feel so fucking nervous all of a sudden? You'd spent your whole day waiting to fuck him, and he’d taken back the power, thrown a wrench into your plans.

You leaned back on your bed. How did you sit sexily? You were stuck in your own head.

Chan moved backwards, hand moving over his clothed erection. He’d spread his legs, thick thighs parted for you to see the promising bulge between them. "Pretend I'm not even here, sweetheart," he said, eyes blown wide with lust. You almost rolled your eyes. Easier said than done, when he was sitting there with his dark curls and his thick, kissable lips and his impossibly huge bulge. “Touch yourself like you’ve done before. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow, I promise.”

Fuck it. You'd never let an attractive man break you down yet, and that wasn't going to change. You nodded timidly, hands moving to grip your breasts through your shirt. It made you sigh, and Chan responded with a noise of his own when you impatiently rucked the fabric up to above your chest. Sucking two fingers into your mouth, you whined when you traced the wet digits around your pebbled peak teasingly. 

“Ah, ‘s- I’m sensitive there, Channie,” You mumbled, and he nodded as if he was making a note for it for later. You trailed your fingertips across your nipples, pinching and twisting them almost painfully just to make your hips cant up into thin air. You were too impatient to do this how you normally would, so you scratched your fingernails down your tummy and shoved a hand in your pyjama bottoms. You were met with slick, wet folds, fingers sliding around in the mess you made. 

“Show me,” Chan said, eyes trained on where your hand disappeared beneath the fabric. “Show me that pussy. You’re meant to be showing me everything, remember?”

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” You huffed, and Chan shook his head in disbelief, grinning. You were shocked to see he actually listened, though, pushing his joggers down to his thighs and letting his erection spring out. It was impossibly hard, pearlescent drops accumulating on his cockhead and you licked your lips subconsciously. “I wanna-”

“No,” Chan cut you off, hand moving to wrap around his cock in a tight fist. He was long, thick and heavy between his thighs and you felt your pussy clench sadly around nothing. “Show me your pussy. I’m not asking again, let me take a look at it.”

You whined, pushing your pyjama bottoms down to reveal your slick core. Your clit was swollen, throbbing with need just from a few kisses and Chan’s general presence, and you could feel a rivulet of wetness sliding down between your lips. Chan groaned in approval, hand quickening on his cock just slightly.

“Spread it, show me your hole,” Chan said, and you moved your thighs further apart for him. Reaching down with two fingers, you moved them into a v-shape and spread your folds for him. Your hole quivered under the inspection, leaking more wetness and Chan’s eyes were hyper fixated on it. “Oh, baby. That looks tight. Has no one ever fucked that little pussy right, huh? Tell me.”

“N-No,” You shook your head, thighs quivering when you finally let two fingers rub over your clit. You started with a blistering pace immediately, making your toes curl into the sheets and your back arch upwards. “No, I- it’s only boys from college, I don’t-”

“Ah, I see. You need someone older, yeah? More experienced?” Chan questioned, his breath coming out heavy with every tightly fisted movement on his cock. You whined, nodding, and then you were breaching your hole with two fingers immediately. The stretch made you groan, head falling back against the pillow. “Is that why you tried to seduce me, yeah? Wanted to have my cock stretching you out just right, wanted to call me daddy while I made you cry?”

God, he’d got it. He was right on the mark. “Yes, y-yes, I- I wanted to, oh, I wanted to call you daddy, and- and feel you inside me, and oh, Channie, please-” You cut yourself off with a moan, perhaps too loud as you curled your fingertips up against your g-spot. Chan threw his head back, letting out a grunt as he pinched his cockhead almost painfully. 

“Say it then, baby. What’s stopping you?” He polished the head of his cock, moaning before he took it into his tight grip again. His precum served as lubrication, his hand now making wet slick sounds on his thick length. You gasped when he moved his free hand to his balls, rubbing calloused fingertips over them and letting out his own gasp. “Beg me for my cock. I know you want it, look at you. Fuckin’ desperate, yeah? Beg daddy for his big cock.”

“Oh, daddy,” You whined, moving your free hand to rub over your clit. Everything was so wet, sliding around your pussy and you were honestly surprised you could feel anything - but it felt so fucking good, having him watch you like this, learning what you liked so he could replicate it. “Fuckin’- daddy, daddy, please, can I have it? Been good, doin’ what you asked, I- hnnng, daddy, oh my god-”

“No,” He smiled, a cocky grin while he rubbed one hand over his cock and the other over his heavy balls. “No, baby. Not tonight. Make yourself cum tonight, and daddy will help you tomorrow.”

“I- need more, need more, I-'' Chan surged over the bed, leaning over your figure to press his lips against yours. His tongue dominated your mouth again, and you could feel his closed fist hitting your stomach as he worked himself to his orgasm. The sensation had you whining against his plush lips, fingers thrusting quicker into your pussy and your other hand sliding around your clit messily. When he pulled away, lips digging into your bottom lip teasingly, his lips were quick to move to your neck to suck some dark purple marks into the skin. You felt yourself trembling, your body tense as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. Your fingers stroked your walls faster, pussy fluttering around your digits in delight, and your mouth opened in a gasp as you felt your body tense and tremble with pleasure. “I’m g’na- g’na cum, gonna cum, please, can I? Can I, daddy? Can I cum for you, please?”

“Yeah, baby,” He huffed, eyes rolling back into his head. He was practically drooling onto your skin, lips parted against your neck as you whined and thrashed on your bedsheets. “Cum for me. Been good for daddy, haven’t you? You can cum, baby, c’mon. Show me how pretty you are when you cum.”

You fell apart around your own fingers, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. Your thighs tensed with your orgasm, your pussy clenching down impossibly tighter around your hand and flooding down to your knuckles with your cum. You begged and pleaded, your voice a barely audible babble as your body shook with the sensation. 

Finally, when you’d just felt like you were coming down, Chan pulled your wrist away from your pussy. The movement left you empty, your walls still clenching down except now it was around nothing, and you whined, bottom lip quivering in need. 

“Hands off,” He sighed, hand slowing down on his cock. He was trying to last longer for something - you weren’t sure what, but you let your other hand drop from your clit obediently. “Daddy’s gonna cum on this wet little hole, baby, okay? You gonna let me cum here, mark you as mine?”

“Yes,” You moaned, nodding. You couldn’t think of anything better, actually. “‘M yours, I’m yours, daddy, gimme.”

“Dirty thing, perfect little girl,” He grunted, and then he was positioning his cockhead at your hole. With a few more movements, increasing in speed, you watched as his face screwed up in pleasure. His hips bucked, and with a final thrust, he came. You felt his cum drip down your hole as he groaned through his orgasm, thick white cum plastering your pussy. It was definitely the sexiest thing you’d experienced, but you still felt a little disappointed - why couldn’t he have just done it inside you?

“Wan’it,” You whined, pulling your legs back. Chan chuckled upon seeing the pout on your lips. “Why couldn’t you- in me, wanted it in me, daddy.” 

“Greedy bitch,” He mused, and then he was delving down to your core. Your mind went blank when his tongue licked fat stripes up your folds, collecting all of his cum and your wetness in his mouth. You briefly thought you could cum from this, very quickly judging by the way he knew what he was doing, but he simply leaned over you and grabbed your jaw. 

Oh. You let your lips part, tongue lolling out of your mouth obediently, and he spat the mixture of your cum into your mouth. You felt him lick into your mouth again, groaning at the taste of your pussy and his load. He smiled against your lips and pulled away, your eyes wide as you tried to process what had just happened. 

Chan’s lips curved in satisfaction at your state, your chest still heaving with a blotchy rash that bore the truth of what you’d been up to. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, and then he was standing up and leaving the room, bottoms barely pulled over his hips. You laid there, feeling an intense mix of pleasure and confusion.

What the fuck just happened?

THURSDAY

You hadn’t even processed what had happened last night. In all honesty, you’d run out of the house in the morning under the premise of a coffee date with friends you didn’t even have. You just sat in the cafe on call with Changbin and Felix and screamed way too loudly for a public area. The whole cafe knew of your predicament by the end of it.

Upon your return home, you’d beelined to your room and kicked the door shut as quietly as you could. Unfortunately, your foot slipped on the floor and you’d ended up face down with a groan.

Turning over onto your back, you huffed at the offending item that had caused your decline to the ground. A piece of paper met your eyes, neatly folded and written on with what looked like black Sharpie when you’d finally unravelled it.

Three words. Three words that changed your life and let you know that what occurred the night before had really happened. No, not ‘I love you’ - it was simple, a scrawled ‘your room, tonight’. It did happen. You touched yourself in front of Chan, and he was planning on coming back to your room to continue what you’d discussed.

You wanted to squeal and kick your feet, but beneath it all, you felt panicked. This plan had gone too far, and you’d perhaps started to think about spending time with your mother’s boyfriend - actual time, not just sexually charged meetings. It hurt a little bit, a pang in your chest when you remembered that what was happening really was just sexual. Your little arrangement being anything else just wasn’t fathomable.

Chan was interesting. He was a fucking music producer, for god’s sake. That was just straight up cool. That, and he was older than you - you did have raging daddy issues like your friends had said, after all. His friend had sounded funny on the phone, which meant he had to be funny, too. 

All things serious, you didn’t really know much about him, but you wanted to know. Felix had encouraged you to find out, and you felt like you owed it to him - or yourself, you weren’t sure. 

The knock on your door once the evening fell brought you out of your reverie. Chan didn’t wait for a response, swinging your bedroom door open and walking straight in as if he owned the house. You huffed at his demeanour, yet your eyes were still fixated on the way he walked over to your bed with intent. You threw your phone to the side. Felix would have to wait for your half-typed text message. 

“Back again so soon?” You quipped, and he raised an eyebrow. He was only in grey joggers, the thin material highlighting his thick dick imprint between his legs. The fabric hung low, showing off the body that you knew he worked so hard for. His chest was honey toned, yet covered in light, sparse freckles - you wanted to make yourself acquainted with every single one. You felt a little overdressed in just an oversized t-shirt and shorts.

Seeing the frustrated expression on your face, Chan’s own face fell. “Do you not want me here?” He said, voice no more than a whisper. “I can go, if you don’t want to see me tonight. I just thought-”

“I do,” You nodded, finally raising yourself from your position lying down to sitting up cross legged. Chan laid on the bed in front of you, one arm propping his head up. He gazed at you for a few moments, and you could see the relief in his eyes at your words. “I do want to see you tonight. I want to see you like… a lot. Don’t you think it’s weird though? I’m your girlfriend’s daughter, Chan, and we’ve kissed and- and done other stuff, and-”

He scooted over so that he was next to you, and you leaned into him subconsciously. He pulled you in with his arm around your shoulders, broad and muscled. You felt content, comfortable and most of all safe. It was a feeling you’d never felt before.

“I don’t think it’s weird,” Chan hummed, his chest vibrating beneath where you’d landed when he pulled you in. He chuckled, then, his hand moving to your hair comfortingly. “Okay, maybe it is a little weird. I’m just very interested in you. I know you heard me on the phone to Minho, and yes, you are my type - I want to know more about you. Like, even beneath the sexually charged tension, heh.”

Oh. You licked your lips, eyes fixated on a random spot in your wall. “You do?”

He nodded. “I do.”

You couldn’t help yourself. You raised your head, surging over Chan’s body to press a kiss to his lips. His hair was soft when you ran your hands through it, despite random curls getting caught in your nails and causing him to groan at the pain flooding through his scalp. His hands went to your waist, licking into your mouth while he effortlessly pulled you on top of him. The show of strength had you whimpering into the kiss, hands moving down to his jaw. It clenched and unclenched while he had full control over your mouth despite you being on top. 

You pulled away with a wet sigh, moving downwards to kiss at his neck. He groaned underneath his breath at the sensation of your lips on his skin. Your bed squeaked awkwardly as you moved down it, too quick for the old springs to handle. It felt naughty, kissing him like this in your childhood room - it felt even dirtier than the night before had, and you hadn’t done anything yet.

“I need you, Chan,” You whispered, nipping at his collarbone. “Need you. Please.” 

He gasped as he felt your tongue trace the outline of his collarbone. He flung one bicep over his dark eyes with a deep sigh, allowing you to kiss and bite all over his skin. He looked like he was trying to control himself. You didn’t want him to.

Your hips started to grind against him, and you placed your palms flat on his chest. Both of Chan’s hands moved back to your hips with a surprised noise, but he didn’t stop you. His dick was hardening in his joggers, and it was providing the best clothed friction to your aching, needy clit below your pyjama shorts. You saw how big it was before, yet the length of it still shocked you when you slid your clothed core up and down the shaft.

“Daddy,” You whined, hips starting to buck frantically. You were sure that you had never felt this needy in your life. “Daddy, daddy, I want you so bad. You turn me on so bad, make me feel so hot, please-”

“Baby,” Chan groaned, his head falling back against your pillows. The soft pink bed sheets juxtaposed completely with what you were doing, and juxtaposed completely with him - Chan, the muscled man with dark hair who wore black and grey clothes constantly. It was as if he was corrupting you, and he was in a sense, being so much older. “Baby, c’mere, come and lay on the bed. Let daddy eat you out, yeah?”

“No,” You shook your head, hips still moving on his erection. Chan’s chest had started to accumulate a thin layer of dewy sweat, slick on his skin and making you want to lick it off. “I want your cock. I don’t wanna wait, I don’t wanna wait, please, just put it in, I’m wet enough, I promise.”

He knew you were babbling, incoherent in your haze of lust, but he still entertained you enough anyway. You spread your legs wider when his hand met your thigh, and then he was pushing two fingers beneath your shorts. He was met with your slick folds, and you gasped at feeling the touch of his fingertips, calloused from years of working with music.

“Oh, fucking hell. Dirty girl, dirty fuckin’ girl,” Chan moaned, his eyes almost rolling back into his head. “This pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, baby. All we did was kiss. Are you that much of a slut for me? Are you that much of a slut for your mother’s boyfriend? That’s filthy.”

“Yes!” You wailed, nodding. You reached down, canting your hips backwards a little bit so you could spread your thighs wider before hooking your fingers in your shorts and pulling them to the side. The movement revealed your pussy, clit swollen at the top of soaking wet folds, covering your drippy hole. “I wan’it so bad, so bad, so bad, please, please. Just push it in, make it hurt, I don’t care-”

Chan shoved the fingers of his spare hand between your parted lips, effectively shutting you up. “Shut up. You’ve got to prove to me you deserve it, baby.”

With those words, he was pushing a finger past your entrance. It breached your hole easily, the digit sliding through your wetness and curving up past your g-spot. Chan shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and shock, and then he was pulling his finger out. With a quick movement, he’d yanked his joggers down and let his cock spring out. The coarse hair was trimmed above his long, thick shaft and you couldn’t help but imagine the type of friction that would give your clit - you couldn’t wait.

“You were right. That slutty pussy is wet enough,” He mused, pulling your hips over his bare cock. Your pyjama shorts were slightly in the way, and you pulled them aside even more, letting your folds leave wetness over his shaft. “Lower yourself on it. Stretch yourself out. Slowly.”

You did as he asked, lowering your body onto his length. You felt the stretch immediately. You moaned, loud and ringing off of your walls. You didn’t give a shit if your mother heard. Fuck, you needed this. You wanted to bounce all over his cock until there was nothing left and your hole could do nothing but remember the tight fit. Trying to sit down quicker, Chan grabbed your hips, stopping you while only half his length was in you.

“You're gonna hurt yourself like that, sweetheart. That hole is so tight around me.”

“Please, daddy,” Your head fell into the nape of his neck. You wriggled yourself in his tight hold, trying to get more of his length in your pussy. He shook his head against you, chuckling.

“You want it? Fine, but don't fucking cry to me when it hurts,” Chan said, letting go of your ass. You realised he'd been holding you up, and within a millisecond you'd slammed down onto him. You wanted to scream, the stretch more than you could take. He laughed again, raising his eyebrows at you mockingly. “Too big?”

"N-No, perfect," You retorted. He moaned, spreading his legs and placing his feet flat on the mattress. More. More. Fucking more. You began to raise on him, expecting to ride that perfect cock, but he started to thrust up into you at an unrelenting place straight away, his balls slapping against your ass. You moaned incoherently, almost babbling, hands digging into his toned biceps. He leaned up to nip at your neck, and then he was pulling your t-shirt off of your body.

“No fucking bra?” Chan laughed in disbelief. His mouth went straight to your nipples, biting and sucking on the hard peaks. You jostled on his lap with his thrusts. You wanted to rub your clit, but you felt like he probably wouldn't let you. “Knew you were fucking filthy, sweetheart. You didn't even care about me going raw, did you? You want my load in that dirty hole. And now I find out these pretty tits were only one layer away from me…”

His voice trailed off. You whined, leaning down to try and kiss him again. He shoved his two fingers back in your mouth, making you suck on them. His bruising sucks caused your nipples to hurt, and you fucking loved it. You knew he was marking you up and you'd just have to deal with it.

You tried to start riding him. He didn't let you, manhandling you off of his cock.

“Daddy!” You whined in protest. Chan chuckled. He lifted you and manhandled you so your back was facing him on your bed, and you immediately repositioned yourself so you were face down, ass up. He reentered you in one swift thrust, causing you to jolt in surprise.

“Fucking tight pussy,” He groaned, thrusting into you with the same vigor as before. You almost screamed, but managed to just moan incoherently. The mattress creaked, the sound of old springs ringing around the room. “Fucking dirty hole. Listen to that, sweetheart. Can you hear how wet your cunt is for daddy's cock? For your mother’s boyfriend’s cock?”

You tried to stop whining and moaning to hear what he was pointing out to you, hearing wet slaps. Your cheeks burned with humiliation, fingernails digging into the mattress. You knew you were dripping for a fact now. You could hear it, you could hear everything, his balls slapping against your clit as well as the wet noise of his heavy cock reentering you. 

You threw your ass back against him, trying to get the tip to hit that special spot inside of you. 

“I think that asshole needs me too, sweetheart,” Chan laughed mirthlessly, his hands resting firmly on your ass, encouraging your bouncing. You moaned in response, clenching your pussy tight. He was going to ruin you for everyone. You'd have to just keep coming back for more. “You want daddy's finger in there? You want me to finger your asshole?”

Oh, yes. “Please, daddy, need to be full,” You said, wiggling your hips against him. You vaguely registered him reaching around you and making you suck on the fingers that had previously been in your mouth. He was going to fill both of your holes, and he moaned loudly at the sight of you sucking his fingers. There was no way that the whole house hadn’t heard you both by now. You hoped they were sleeping.

You sighed in ecstasy, feeling the fingers begin to move inside your ass. His thrusting was now hitting your g-spot in your pussy, given the added pressure from being full in both holes. You felt the orgasm finally begin to build. You liked the way he wasn't rushing you to cum, not like those younger college boys. He was taking care of you and just having good fucking sex. “Feels so fucking good, daddy. Feels so good.”

You were now semi-incoherent, your words all joining together in one long moan. Chan loved it, judging by his moans. His cock was pulsing inside you. You wondered if he was close. You wanted him to fill you up to the point where it was dripping out of you. 

He pulled out of you again, grabbing your leg with one strong hand and flipping you onto your back. You were out of breath from the exertion, despite him doing all the work, and he looked fully composed save for the thin sheen of sweat on his body.

“Feels good, baby?” He asked, looming above you. You squirmed feeling your sweaty back rubbing against the blanket uncomfortably, but you nodded anyway. You wanted to please him. He looked down at your writhing body, letting out another groan. “So fucking sexy. You don’t know how much you fucking killed me, teasing me like that. Touch that pussy for me again, show me.”

He started pumping his shaft quickly, still staring down at you. You reached down with one hand and immediately pressed two fingers against your entrance, collecting the slick gathering outside before diving straight in. You curled your fingers against that spot inside of you, whining out. It wasn't enough. Not after having that fat cock in you. He definitely had ruined you for everyone else, including yourself. Nothing was ever going to feel the same again. 

“Mmm. Looks so wet, sweetheart. Daddy wants a taste, is that okay?” Chan questioned, moving back onto his knees. You pulled your fingers out and tried not to cry at the loss.

“Please, daddy. Wanna cum in your mouth,” You slurred out, pushing his head towards you. He moaned into your pussy, taking his fat tongue and licking one wet stripe up your slit. He pulled your pussy back, exposing that throbbing clit to him, and placed one lick directly onto your button. "Fuck, daddy, feels so good! Suck it, please, suck it. I - please - need to cum so bad!"

“Need to cum, huh, sweetheart? I'll make your little pussy throb for me and then I'm putting my cock right back in that tight hole, where it belongs,” He spoke. He thrust two fingers into your slit, much thicker and longer than yours. You spread your legs, holding them up against your chest. You literally almost purred when he started moving his fingers, curling them up into that spot and sucking on your clit whilst he did so. It wasn't going to take long. The man was clearly amazing at every part of sex. 

You focused on the feeling of his wet tongue rubbing up against your clit and writhed, feeling closer and closer to the edge. He knew what he was fucking doing. Your thighs started to shake, taking everything in you not to just let them go from your hold and clutch around Chan’s head. You wanted him to permanently live between your thighs. Your eyes clenched shut, a deep sigh leaving you. 

“Fuck, I'm g’na cum,” You mumbled out, chest heaving and flushed a shade of crimson. Chan pulled away, causing you to whine. You pouted, reaching up to grab his shoulders. "No, no! You said I could. You said you would help me.”

“What I said was that I'd make it throb for you and then I'm sliding back right in here, sweetheart. Be good for daddy, you'll get to cum,” He positioned his length at your core again, sliding right back into home. You both moaned, and he was fucking you in a mating press this time, almost as if you were a couple in love. You wished you were, and realised this was definitely your favourite position so far. The man fucked like an animal and now he was fucking you like he was going to breed you, and you loved it. He reached down with one hand to rub your clit rapidly, trying to bring you to the edge. “This is my fucking pussy. My favourite fucking pussy, my only girl, the only pussy for me, okay?”

“Fuck!” You cried of overstimulation, hands still wrapped around your legs. “G’na... getting close again, gonna-”

“Cum then, sweetheart, flood my cock. Make a mess for me, come on, do it," Chris encouraged, breathing heavily next to your ear. His eyes were focused on where he was entering you over and over again, taking note of the white ring of slick that had formed around the base of his cock, soaking the hair that rested there. You scrunched your eyes shut, feeling overwhelmed with bliss. “That's it. That's my good girl.”

White hot ecstasy overtook your body. You wanted to squirm, but with the pressure of the muscular man on top of your body, you had nowhere to go. You focused on the feeling of his slick chest rubbing against your sensitive nipples, whining and moaning as the orgasm coursed through your body and made it feel like you were being electrocuted. 

“Fucking clenching on my cock, shit,” Chan groaned, his hand falling away from your clit once your breathing had began to calm slightly. His hands went down to grab your hips, and before you knew it, he was lifting your hips up and fucking you senseless, treating you like a toy. “W-Wanted to be soft with you for our first time, sweetheart. I'm not normally like this, not at all, but this fucking pussy is driving me insane, fuck... I need to fill you up. Will you let daddy fill that pussy with my cum, sweetheart? Let me breed you, make you mine?”

You nodded quickly, unable to speak at this point. Your hole felt raw, sensitive and fucked open, but you needed his cum in you. You thought you might die if you didn't get it soon. His tip jabbed into your g spot incessantly, almost causing you to cum again, but you subconsciously knew you couldn't take another orgasm at the same level as the previous one. You might die. 

“Fucking- g’na breed you, sweetheart. Gonna make you mine. G-Gonna give you a baby, g’na fill you up, fuck!”

With an animalistic growl, Chan’s head dropped to your neck, biting into the skin there and definitely leaving a mark. You felt his hips still and cum flooded out of the tip of his length, flooding your hole with a new sense of wetness. You sighed with content and laid there until Chan’s breathing calmed, his body weight fully on top of you and yet not uncomfortable. 

“I have to be honest about something,” Chan sighed. You looked up at him from your position on his chest, and he looked down at you with an apprehensive look. He looked a lot shyer than he did moments before, when he was fucking you senseless and calling you a slut - he was blushing now, embarrassed. You were sure that’s what you liked about him. “You’re- it’s like you were made for me. I don’t know what the fuck to do, heh. I’m falling for you, I think.”

You blinked, leaning up to rest inches away from his face. Got him. You’d got him. “Well, that’s okay, Chan. You’re closer to my age anyway, right?”

[allurilove]

Yandere Boyfriend x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: He cries, begging, use him!, gender neutral reader, he slips you some viagra, he becomes your maid—trying to get on your good graces, tie him up and blindfold him, doggystyle, he eats you out.

*Incase yall were wondering.. this is lol what I imagine yandere classmate/boyfriend looks like in his little uniform. This is the third post! And check out the first and second when you can! He is referred to as “your boyfriend” and this is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: He comes clean about his yandere tendencies, and how he lied about pretty much everything. Your boyfriend will do anything for you to take him back again.

He always dreaded this moment. The moment when he had to tell you the truth, and he hoped you wouldn’t look at him any differently.

He told you about how much of a sexual deviant he is, and how he never got accepted into the university, and how he got you to live with him.

You kicked out your boyfriend when he came clean. You wanted space from him, but he took it as a break up and he started to panic as a jerk reaction. He came by to your door everyday, and you only gave him five minutes to explain himself, and then you shut the door in his face. And like clockwork, he came again. Over time, you were slowly getting the full picture.

He liked you since highschool, followed you around, sniffed your locker when he missed you, befriended your siblings to see your room, and he often jerked himself off when he thought about you.

He showed up with flowers, chocolates, chips, your favorite food from the nicest restaurants, and even stuffed animals that could sing. He then slid letters underneath your door, and then he slid pictures of him incase you werent understanding how much he needed you. He would send his nudes through the phone, but you blocked him.

He did not get what a break meant. He hated that you wanted zero contact, and that you did not want to meet with him until you were ready to talk again. So, one last time he approached your door again. He knocked on the door, you peeked through the peephole, and saw he wasn’t holding anything this time. He was just wearing a dark hoodie, sweats, and his airpods shoved into his ears.

You opened the door just enough to get a good look at him. He…looked embarrassed? His face pink and he nervously fiddled with his hair.

“Can I come in..?” Your boyfriend asked. You slowly let him inside and your eyes widens as he pulled off his clothes. “Just hear me out-“

When he got his joggers pulled off, he revealed a little maid outfit. He wore this black and white skirt or dress, some white sheer tights, and had some bows in his hair.

“I’ll become your maid! I’ll clean, cook, and… sleep with you heh, if t-that’s just what you want!” He stuttered in the end to cover up the fact that he’s been so pent up. He didn’t want you to think that he’s still a sexual deviant (you so nicely called him).

So, over the next couple of weeks he would come over and clean your apartment. He would whistle some sweet tunes, vacuum the place, and he would occasionally flash a bit more leg at you. You found it humorous that he was trying to seduce you. The skirt of his dress would accidentally would be a bit too high up, and you caught sight of his erection. And he would try to be too helpful. If you were stressed out, he told you that you could hop on his cock.

He was becoming desperate for attention, and paranoid that you would find someone else during this “break.” He came around more often to clean your house, and he would sneak into your bedroom to snoop in your drawers. When you two were still dating, you had some scandalous intimates, and he audibly sighed when he saw none of those.

So, you weren’t seeing anyone new. He smiled as he chopped up some carrots for the stew he was cooking, he wanted to feed you well and make you happy. He snuck some viagra into your drink, and he handed it to you.

If you were being honest… you didn’t think that your boyfriend was capable of all of those things he was confessing to. You weren’t going to say that he’s dumb… but he definitely tended to act like he needed your attention and help 24/7. So, it was a surprise to hear that he was actually a massive pervert and manipulator. You continue to sit there with an impassive look on your face, your arms crossed, and you watch as he cried and sobbed. The viagra hasn’t kicked in yet, and he was cursing at himself for not giving you more. He tried to plead his case and get you to change your mind about him.

“I didn’t mean too!” He wailed. “It just happened so suddenly! I-It was like my feelings for you appeared overnight!” That was technically half true.

You did wish on a shooting star for a boyfriend, and the universe provided. But it turned into an unhealthy obsession, it turned an innocent man to start stalking you, and craving to be yours.

He could not stop, the tears in his eyes kept coming and he was on his knees. He knew any sane person would leave him in a heartbeat, they would dump his ass, and maybe even get a restraining order on him.

“You’re just so amazing! I fell in love with you immediately. It was like an instant connection..!” He pouted, and he crawled over to you. “Are you going to leave me?”

You heavily debated on it. He’s insane, that was pretty clear, and you also took a note that you should probably clean your sheets… and lock your room just in case. Your head still tried to wrap around the fact that he bought a plane ticket, and up-rooted his whole life…for you.

You sighed, “I might-“

“Don’t.” He quickly said, his eyes darkening and they narrow at you briefly. All before he nervously chuckles when you didn’t like his tone, and he reached for you, “W-What I meant was—“

“You can’t tell me what to do.” You scoffed and you took a step back. His hand falling down after you rejected his touch.

His lip started to quiver, and he bends down to kiss at your feet. “What can I do, my love?”

“You know I’ll do anything.”

You don’t know why, but you started to feel your body heat up. His lips looked so kissable and soft, his cheeks pink and tear-stained. You eventually gave in. You didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of seeing your body, so you unravel the ribbons in his hair, and cover his eyes. You used the other ribbons to tie his hands back.

He had to rely on his other senses to understand what you were doing. All he hears is a rustle of your clothes falling down to the floor, and you got him to lay on his back. You instructed him to open his mouth and he does so, his tongue sticking out in anticipation. He felt a presence nearby and he immediately tried to lick at it. His tongue feeling something warm and slick. He lifted his head up and buried himself into it, his tongue slipping inside to your core, and he probed for your g-spot. He pushed himself deeper, his neck straining to force his tongue deeper.

He wanted to use his hands to spread your legs further for him. He wanted to rip the blindfold off so he could see what he was doing, and make you feel better. He felt you pull away, and he latched his lips onto your heat to convince you to stay on his face. Your boyfriend huffed when his head fell back onto the floor, he licked his lips, and he felt you pull his boxers down. His cock sprung out— so eager for you to do whatever to it. A little dribble of cum spills out of his tip, and trailing down his shaft.

“fuhhhhck!” He let out a deep groan, your hand moving up and down his length as you put the condom on him. He wiggled his hips, imaging that it would be buried deep inside you. He could get off at the thought of you riding him.

You straddled his hips, his tip poking at your heat before you finally sank down on him. He bit his lip, his brows furrowed as you bounced up and down.

He still didn’t get to have sight privileges as you change positions. There was a ring of cum around his dick, and he began to harden again at your admiration. You praised him for doing so well, and you got onto all fours. He reached out for your hips, using his hands to guide himself behind you. He gently spreads your cheeks apart, and he glides right into you again.

He’s never heard of stopping at one time.

Once just wasn’t enough.

You let your boyfriend have a taste of you after months of shunning him. You had let him come to your graduation, but he had to stand from the distance, and he held a sign saying he “loves you.”

You were finally done with college and you were taking a right step in the direction, finding your own peace, and growing as a person.

But you just had to let him in.

Your boyfriend let out one final devastatingly brutal thrust—a sadistic smile tugging at his lips—and he knew he won you over when he heard you scream out his name.

Allure: Anywaaaaay! Idk if this will be the final, there might be another one where reader and him are engaged?? IDK don’t quote me.

[maidragoste]

The Portrait

Princess Rhaenyra's naming day was approaching, so King Viserys and Queen Aemma asked her beloved daughter what she wanted as a gift this year. The king expected the princess to ask for something like a new horse or new fabrics so that her maids could make her new dresses, but Rhaenyra surprised him by asking him to hire a painter because she wanted to have a portrait with you, her dearest friend. The king soon granted the princess's wish and a few weeks later you and Rhaenyra found themselves in her chambers dressed in white with a painter.

The painter had to make many drafts because you and Rhaenyra first tried to make serious poses like the both had seen in the portraits of Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters, but the two of you always ended up laughing when your eyes met each other. In the end, you ended up posing sitting looking at the princess while she was standing behind you resting her hand on your shoulder while you caressed her hand. The poor painter had to improvise a little since neither the princess nor you could stop talking but anyway, he ended up painting them both with a smile and Rhaenyra with a blush on her cheeks.

Years later, when the celebration of your wedding with Harwin ends, the first thing Rhaenyra does, when she returns to her chambers, is look for that portrait and while her eyes fill with tears she can't help but think that she liked that white dress you wore better with her than the one you wore at your wedding. If she were just a man, then nothing would stop her from taking you as her wife and reigning over the Seven Kingdoms together. She would give you everything, her heart, her soul, her power and she would make you the happiest woman in the kingdom. But she can never have you because she is a woman and you chose Harwin.

[l-uminescent]

˚⁀➷｡˚GOD OF OLD VALYRIA ━━━ DAERON TARGARYEN X FEM! READER

synopsis: cregan stark's sister (reader) is sent to king's landing in order to find a suitable marriage arrangement. after a year however, you start to lose hope at finding a betrothed. that is, until the king announces the arrival of his youngest son daeron targaryen.

notes: hello! i have yet to see many daeron one shots or fics so i’ve decided to try. and as usual, i have aged him up to about 19/20. requests are also welcome bc i’m running out of ideas 😭

warnings: don’t think there is any apart from my rusty writing bc i have not written anything in years and most likely some spelling mistakes

word count: 1.8k

BEING CREGAN STARK'S YOUNGER SISTER PROVED ITSELF TO BE BOTH A BLESSING AND A CURSE. with the death of his wife arra, and being left with a son to raise by himself cregan struggled to find the time to find a suitable suitor to have as your lord husband as you came of age. the result of this, meant you being sent off to king's landing in hopes that the queen  consort, could provide help with finding you a husband. it's not like you minded being sent off to the capital, you were keen to explore the south after having lived in the north for the entirety of your life. but after being in the red keep for almost a year, you were becoming less and less confident at the queen's promise to your brother that she would find you a betrothed.

however, that was all soon to change with the arrival of daeron targaryen from oldtown.

it was his elder brother aemond, who informed you of daeron's arrival from oldtown after having been sent away years ago to squire for the hightower family. despite aemond's  intimidating aura and the obvious anger he holds within, you two often found solace with each other in the library as it appeared neither of you had many friends around the castle. tucked away, reading books on the history of the north, and that of the previous targaryen kings and queens, aemond often sat near, as he too enjoyed your presence as much you he.

today, he explained that there was to be a feast held in the throne room, at daeron's arrival as he had not been in the red keep for quite some time. your presence was to be required at the feast for some reason unbeknownst to you (but not to aemond's, who was aware of his mother's plotting).

rushing back to your chambers after waving your friend goodbye and thanking him for the information he told, your stomach began to knot as the feeling of nervousness took hold. you had heard stories of the youngest targaryen, of his beauty, how his silver hair fell shorter than his brothers, barely covering his eyes. you often heard gossip that the price frequently made the girls of the realm swoon if they were to ever encounter the boy in oldtown. if the rumours that circled around the red keep were to be believed, than it was also said that daeron targaryen was the most popular of the king and queen's sons. as well as his beauty, you had heard that he was an outspoken and witty boy, a skilled swordsman and returned the kindness that was given to him.

brushing away these thoughts, you began to wash  and paint you face with many creams and serums, until doting yourself as presentable to the targaryen family. you called on a maid to help you with your hair and dress. no matter the time you spent in the south, you were never one to forget your northern roots which often reflected in the clothes you wore and the hairstyle that adorned your head. black dire wolves, were subtly sewn onto your grey dress, a direct nod at your stark lineage, showing how proud you were of it and your hair was twisted and braided until it reflected that of what you so commonly wore in winterfell.

as the maid finished helping you ready, the nervous feeling once again made home in the pit of your stomach. deciding it was time to make your  way to the feast, your hands found themselves fidgeting with the rings on your fingers that were lovingly gifted to you by your mother father and brother, (family heirlooms that once again showed your pride of the north) in an attempt to calm your anxiety.

you still could not fathom where this sudden wave of nervousness came from. you had met the other two targaryen boys, even the three velayrons that had moved away to dragonstone a mere week after your arrival,  and this skittish demeanour was nowhere to be found back then.

taking a deep shaky breath and swallowing, willing your hands to stop fidgeting you walked through the doors to where the feast was to be held, making a beeline straight to where you usually sat. ignoring the piercing glare of a pair of indigo eyes that you were unused to, you bowed to the king and queen before taking your seat, still refusing to meet  the eyes that looked upon you intently.

"it is my greatest pleasure to announce the return of my youngest son daeron" king viserys announced. even in his sickly state the pride he had for his youngest son was not mistaken, making it painstakingly obvious who the favourite child was (second to rhaeynra of course.)

as he continued, you could not help but notice the soft look alicent had gave you. you had heard the rumours of how unkind the woman was before your arrival yet, she did everything in her power to make you feel comfortable during your stay. almost as if this was her second shot at motherhood.

you did not need to wonder for long what she had meant by the look this time before viserys continued his speech. "and to announce his betrothal to the lady of house stark."

at that moment you did not care if the shock in your face was evident  as your mind raced at a hundred miles an hour at the news. feeling your heart pump faster, a bright crimson appear on your cheeks as the entire table had turned to look at you. the  embarrassment at the attention you faced had soon turned to rage at the thought of your brother cregan not warning you of the news to have allowed yourself to mentally prepare. you cursed your brother for that. yet it soon faded and was once again replaced with anxiety as you remembered the boy beside you was the man you were now betrothed to.

you could not help the thought of this being failing marriage, one that was doomed from the start. your northern customs differed heavily from that of the royals in the south and you were afraid that it would offend your betrothed. you barely knew the man, there was no telling that he was as kind as you had heard, for all you knew one simple argument and he could feed you to his beloved dragon tessarion.

willing yourself to calm down, you took a shaky breathe before twisting your head to the side, finally allowing yourself to look at the boy that had been the cause for your nerves the past few hours. you had to hand it to the gossips of the court, the boy was handsome. with a sharp jawline and piercing indigo eyes staring into your plain ones you felt your face heat as his eyes continued to hold yours. taking in his features you noted that his hair, fell perfectly to his eyebrows, and a small scar ran down the left side of his lip. he was absolutely mesmerising. you had always been skeptical at the idea of targaryen's being closer to gods than men, but in that moment you believed.

daeron targaryen looked as if he was a god from old, straight from valyria.

you found the knot in your stomach grow and tension find it's home in your shoulders at this revelation as you struggled for words to say to your betrothed,  feeling unworthy in the presence of true targaryen beauty. your belief of the old gods wavering in favour of the valyrian ones, every time your eyes caught his.

you only prayed he was as kind as he was good looking.

━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━

"mother, i will accompany lady stark back to her room." it wasn't until the meal had ended when you had heard his voice for the first time. if you weren't nervous before than by the  gods you were now. with your heart rate elevated your fingers found the rings adorning your hands again, fiddling with them as you stood to be guided back to your chambers by the youngest prince. his voice perfectly matching the god like features of his face, melting like honey as every syllable reached you ear. you were truly enamoured with the targaryen boy.

with a bow to both the king and queen you and daeron had left, an awkward silence following as the words you wanted to say dying on your tongue every time you glanced out the corner of your eye at him. once again, blood rushed to your cheeks as the boy turned to you. "you don't have to be scared of me you know, my lady." he smirked. by the love of the gods, you prayed the answer that left your mouth did not make the embarrassment you felt worsen.

"i believe i have a right to my fear, my prince, seeing as your dragon lays only a hill away from where we stand."

at this, daeron let out a laugh, wondering where the shyness from the feast had gone. "well my lady, tessarion isn't as scary as she seems. maybe one day we shall go out riding."

"i would like that indeed my prince." you returned, smiling at the thought of him allowing you to meet his most precious creature. you had always wondered what a dragon had looked like up close, let alone to ride. the mere suggestion of it showed that maybe this marriage wasn't doomed after all. "well here is my chambers. thank you for walking me back."

the two of you turned to face each other now, allowing you to take in the entirety of his face. and by gods you were even more starstruck than before. in the torch lit corridor of the red keep, he seemed even prettier — truly a god of old valyria.

"goodnight my lady." daeron breathed out, seemingly as entranced as you were with him. the piercing indigo roaming about your entire face as he believed you would disappear if he even for a moment looks away. he had encountered many beautiful strangers in his time at oldtown, had read many history books that described creatures as beautiful as gods and angels. yet no matter how many detailed accounts he had read of valyria, how enchanting those who had lived before the doom were, and how he had inherited this fairness from his ancestors , in that moment he swore he had never met anyone as more beautiful as you. how you took pride in where you came from with the northern rings and stitching on your dress. how your hair was held with clips that were clearly heirlooms of the stark family. he was in awe.

"goodnight my prince." you whispered, pressing a small tender kiss to the side of his porcelain skin before turning to your chambers.

to daeron targaryen, you too were a god of old valyria

[queers-gambit]

Give Every Man Thy Ear, But Few Thy Voice

title citation: Hamlet

prompt: similar to Penelope Featherington, you overhear your best mate's choice words about you after dancing at a ball.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!Tyrell!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

collection masterlist: The Truth Will Out - coming soon collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 18.3k+

note: SLUTTY ANGST CLUB, COME GET Y'ALL JUICE!

warnings: not edited. heapings of angst, hurt and no comfort, fuck your feelings. tweaked timeline, cursing, Bridgerton influenced, Aemond's both a bestie and an outstanding, fucking asshole - so is this vilified Aemond? eavesdropping trope, nicknamed reader, insecurity, insults, betrayl, abundance of ye ol' misogyny, self destructive tendencies; a single, non-graphic line that alludes suicide as an unserious threat to convey displeasure. there's men being men, men being gossipy little bitches, and the most random Lord of the Rings quote that kinda breaks the fourth wall?

Bridgerton - available to watch on Netflix 🍒 this fic was written before season three premiered

Jacaerys Velaryon version: coming soon

Tonight was a celebration that echoed across the entire Realm. Lords and Ladies alike with their service maids, House guards, any available singletons flocked to King's Landing for the courting season. They did this annually. Three solid months for eligible singles to make a match and attempt to secure their bond in matrimony.

Ladies wore layers of multicolored fabrics. Lords dressed in embellished tunics. Ladies tied on tight corsets to push their breasts to their necks. Lords shaved their facial hair, appearing "cleaned up". Ladies smelt of exotic perfume and Lords stood in shiny boots. All wore sparkling, gaudy jewelry.

While the Starks of Winterfell and the Umbers of Last Hearth traveled over a month to reach the capital, your family, the Tyrells from Highgarden, had a much more comfortable commute. Greyjoys and Mormonts sailed in from the Iron Islands and Bear Island, Tullys from Riverrun, Royces and Arryns from the Eyrie. Single, available, eligible Hightowers returned under Queen Alicent's sponsorship, Lannisters prowled in from Lannisport, and select few Martells arrived in gorgeous, gloriously golden carriages from Dorne.

Everyone who was anyone descended onto the Red Keep, eager to earn King Viserys' stamp of approval - being that he only granted one couple his presence at their ceremony. It was the highest of honors, a prize to be won, a chance to show off and show out; giving the two bonded families bragging rights until the next season. Plus there's a superstition that all weddings the King attended were prosperous, healthy, and long lasting marriages. There was a buzz in the air, a static of excitement and mystery; tension brewing when the members of court arrived and sized each other up for that first week. You thought they were silly for this energy, akin to strutting peacocks, treating their own like competition, treating bloodlines like currency.

You never realized how many purists there were.

While the other Houses had to travel, you were most lucky to already host residence in the Red Keep. Your uncle, Evin Tyrell, had once been in line to assume lordship over Highgarden, but after losing his son to the War of the Stepstones, Evin turned away from his inherited responsibilities; forcing it onto your father's shoulders. You had several siblings, both younger and older, and eventually got lost in your bustling, busy, arguably large family. Evin had no more children, wife long departed from this life, and was excited by the prospect of being a guardian; insisting you come with him to King's Landing, where he accepted a tutoring position for the King's children and grandchildren.

You were absolutely romanced by the idea of existing among the royal family, telling your father it was your one chance at a decent, higher education - an opportunity to study under the Targaryens being once in a lifetime. Truth be told, you're not entirely sure Lord Tyrell even processed your words, approving with a distracted grunt and a wave; gone by the next morning without even breaking your fast with your family. Evin hooked both your beloved horse and one of your father's young stallions to a wooden cart you shared, using the journey to King's Landing to prepare you for the life you were soon to live.

You had always been a little wild child, so, Evin felt it necessary to remind you of your manners; brushing up on your etiquette, quizzing you on members of the Royal Family, explaining what would be expected of you now that you were a guest to the royals.

For well over a decade, you were the single wildflower blooming through dragon fire, earning the moniker Rose of the Realm; living under Queen Alicent's good grace. She seemed to like you well enough, going as far as to invite you to family events after noticing the bond between you and her openly favorite son, Prince Aemond. Years ago, when you were fresh and new to the Capital City, your uncle brought you to attend Lady Laena Velaryon's funeral on Driftmark at the King's invitation. You already had a friendship with the young royals; keeping Helaena company, trying to sneak Aegon's chalices of wine out of his grip, and when the time came, rushed off over the sandy dunes with your best mate after he told you his plan to lay claim on Lady Laena's dragon, Vhagar.

After the King's heir, Princess Rhaenyra's (rumored) bastard son, Lucerys, slashed Aemond's eye from his socket, you became incredibly close. Impossible close. Like unbelievably close; being thick as thieves, joined at the hip, magnetically pulled towards one another before clicking into tight place. You were his pillar of support, his anchor to reality; and he was your salvation.

You realized you were in love with him when you turned ten-and-six. It was something strange, the two of you studying together in the library and when you looked up from your book to meet his eyes, you just understood. Something in your brain clicked, heart cemented in knowing, guts twisting in sudden realization, words caught in your throat and only letting out an inaudible gasp. Ever since that day, you were acutely aware of anything the Prince did; from the way he would caress the back of your head at each embrace, to his eye darting to look at your lips during conversations. From how he took almost every meal with you, to the way he insisted upon your invitation to family, public, and / or royal events. From the way he absorbed your secrets and opinions, to the way he shared his own - getting back what you put forth, forever mutual.

Being friends - best mates, even - with Aemond was easy. So easy, in fact, that nobody ever batted an eye when they saw the two of you unchaperoned. Your friendship was wholesome, endearing, supportive, enlightening, and pleasurably challenging in the sense that Aemond liked pushing your envelope; testing your boundaries. He set new standards and helped lift you to meet those goals, made you think harder, consider new points of view, expand your humanity.

What more could anyone ask for?

About half way through the current season, your uncle sent for you to join him for afternoon tea in the gardens. "Do you recognize these?" He asked when you arrived at the pavilion he sought shade under, admiring the bushes of florals surrounding the bannister.

"Of course," you smirked, hands behind your back as you stood at his shoulder, "they're honeysuckle."

"Native to only Highgarden, just like I called you in your youth," Evin added, plucking a bloom to admire. "Do you know why they're planted here?"

"I imagine through pollination?"

"A sound guess, but no," your uncle handed you the flower. "These were imported years ago, but have only bloomed now."

You nodded, sucking the bud to extract its honey-sweet taste, asking through puckered lips, "Imported by whom?"

"Do you remember your 17th nameday?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess, it was only a few years ago. You weren't here, you were on some diplomatic matter, right?"

"Inna way. After I concluded my affairs, I returned to Highgarden. You see, Prince Aemond confided in me how he wished to do something special for your birthday and knew you missed home. He asked me to bring these seeds back."

"Aemond asked you to plant honeysuckle?"

"Specifically here," Elvin grinned, "so they were within easy reach."

"So why have they only just now bloomed?" You tried to keep the jittery excitement out of your voice; baffled yet giddy from hearing about Aemond's kind gesture.

"There's an old legend," Evin gestured you to the patio table and chairs that was dressed for your social visit. "It's said, when the honeysuckle is gifted from lover to lover, they will only bloom when love surrounds them. I believe they have come to life this season as a portent to an impending match to be made."

"You spend too much time with Otto, Uncle, you're starting to sound like him - veiling your words and talking in riddles. Tell me why you called me here, Uncle, I know it's not for a botany lesson. Out with it, please, for the sake of my sanity."

Evin chuckled, watching you lean forward to pour two mugs of tea. "I was wondering, sweet niece, what the nature of your relationship is to the Prince Aemond?"

"Oh," you blinked, adding a sugar cube to your brew before stirring in a bit of milk, "well, I hate to disappoint, but I don't know what to tell you, Uncle. We're friends, nothing more or less."

"You seem real chummy."

"We're close, yes."

"Romantic?"

You scoffed, "Uncle, please - "

"Tell me the truth of it."

"Nothing inappropriate or unseemly nor nefarious has occurred between us, Uncle, I promise you. The Prince and I are just friends."

Evin sipped his tea, nodding slowly, "Well, humor me. If I asked who you would marry, who would you choose?"

"Well, as of right now, I'd choose myself since I don't know the men at court yet, only rumors and whispers."

"And if the offer of marriage presented itself, would you marry the Prince?"

"I would do my duty to our House, no matter the suitor."

Evin nodded slowly, "If I said I had struck a pact with the Queen and Hand, what would you say?"

"That despite what I've just said, if you marry me off to Aegon, I'll pitch myself from a window."

Your uncle's head tilted back as he belted short laughter. "I would never condemn you to such a fate, honey girl! Have more faith in me. I speak of Prince Aemond - it's why I asked about him."

"Uncle, speak plainly. Have you attempted to make such a match between the Prince and I?"

"Pending a few logistics, the Crown's interested in the match."

The words echoed in your mind on an obnoxious repeat for the weeks to come, surely living a dream. The longer you dwelled on the impending match, the giddier you felt; a secret smile brightening your features, small spring in your step, an air of positivity hanging around you that even the tiresome Rogue Prince wouldn't be able to taint. The One-Eyed Prince has long been your best mate for a decade, surely, this match would've been offered sooner or later; it was a smart choice, the definition of compatibility.

Some might've referred to this elation as "cloud nine", though you'd say it was cloud 10, 11, 12, 100! You were flying high, feeling good, and mistakenly allowing your hopes to heighten while imagining what marrying your best friend would be like.

You prepared for that evening's courting session with a dreamy, dazed look in your eyes. Even your ladies-maid picked up on your joyful spirit; questioning through her smile, "What's got you so distracted, my Lady? You've been staring off into nothing with that smile for an hour now."

"Huh?" You met her eyes through the vanity mirror, the woman standing behind you to intricately braid your hair. "Oh, no, no, nothing, I'm only lost in thought."

"Which thought?"

"It doesn't matter, it's just a thought. When it becomes a notion, I'll tell you, my friend."

She repeated with a grin, "'Yeah? When's that? Are you expecting good news?"

"Perhaps."

"Fine, fine, keep your secrets," she playfully tugged your hair. "Do you know which dress you'd like to wear tonight?"

"The lilac one," you answered, lips stretching your smile.

"You mean the dress that matches Prince Aemond's eye perfectly?"

You both giggled girlishly.

When you arrived at the Throne Room, there was already more than 75% of guests in attendance; getting a jump on their mingling. You greeted several familiar faces, locating your best mate standing at the side with his arms crossed and shoulder leaning on a pillar. "Well, you certainly look happy to be here," you teased when at his side, leaning on the other side of the intricate column.

"It was Mother's idea, Rosie, you know I do not dance," he frowned. "She's not given up the hunt to make me a match. She's adamant this is the year."

"Perhaps if you participate, you could organically meet your future wife."

"Hmm," his eye rolled, thin lips quirking in a smirk; gaze turned on you, watching you scan the room.

There was another 20 minutes of mingling before dinner was called, laid out on tables that stretched the entire length of the Throne Room. Naturally, like every single day, you and Aemond took side-by-side seats together at a risen table that hosted the royal family which provided an incredible view of those in attendance this eve. With your elbow, you nudged Aemond's bicep, making him lean over instantly so you could speak in his ear quietly. "Looks like Lady Fell and Lord Blackwood are gonna jump each other's bones," you mused, smirking, adding, "though I heard she's already hiding a growing belly and is trying to nab herself someone more mature in age with the intent to trick the Lord into thinking she's having his baby."

"No," he scoffed in amusement.

"Yes!"

"That's diabolical. Blackwood's the father? Truly?"

"I'm pretty sure."

"Good for him, good for Blackwood - didn't know he had it in him." He paused to take a pull from his goblet of wine, continuing, "Hm! Look, look," he grinned coyly, "do you see what I see?"

"It's packed in here, so... No, I don't see whatever you're seeing."

He snickered, "Lady Mormont looks smitten with Lord Greyjoy, looks like she wants to eat him."

"I thought he was romancing Lady Redwyne?"

Aemond hummed in amusement, "Perhaps he is considering options, courting more than one lady. Are we taking bets this season, again?"

You grinned, "Of course."

"Lay out the criteria, what're the parameters?"

After thinking a moment, you answered, "The pairing and timeline of impending weddings?"

"The stakes?"

You just shrugged, "Bragging rights?"

"Oh, c'mon, Rosie," he tisked.

"Fine, uh, how about... 10 Gold Dragons?"

"Both our families have enough money."

"Then you decide the rewards."

He lowered his voice, ensuring his family couldn't eavesdrop, "If you win, I'll go to Highgarden with you next time you visit. But if I win, you have to come flying with me on Vha - "

"No," you snapped instantly.

Aemond smirked, "Those are the terms, my Lady. Do you accept? Or will the Rose of the Realm shy away from challenge?"

Well, when you put it that way...

"Fine," you relented. "You're eager to lose so bad, let's do it. Who do you think will couple first?"

"Does it count if I get at least one correct? Such as, if I predict Lord Umber and Lady Lannister, but Umber marries Lady Tully, does it count that I still predicted Umber?"

You mulled his idea over, humming, stabbing a piece of roast goose from your plate to place in your mouth and chew thoughtfully. "Hmm, no, no, you gotta get the couple completely correct."

Aemond nodded, accepting your terms, "You really don't wish to go flying, do you?"

"What gave me away?"

Sharing a chuckle, Aemond finished, "All right, Rosie, bring it on."

When dinner concluded, once more, patrons were allowed to mix and mingle; dancing to the live band, drink spiced wine to their heart's desires. Like the common wallflowers you were, you posted at the side of the room with Aemond, content to watch the sea of vying adults trying to establish and rush courtship. It was the most comfortable you could be at these events, being anxious in judgmental crowds and seeking salvation from Aemond's domineering aura.

"Lady Tyrell," Jason Lannister purred as he approached you with his chest puffed out, "I was hoping to hold your ear tonight. Your father was telling me about your love to ride horses."

"Oh, my father said that?"

"That's who he said he was - "

"My father's in Highgarden, my Lord," you corrected, knowing for fact that Evin always described himself as your uncle.

"Ah, well, right," Jason cleared his throat in embarrassment. Did this pompous arsehole just lie about talking to your father to give the illusion he was an honorable man? That your father approved of the golden headed Lannister? "Perhaps you would honor me with a dance?"

"Perhaps not," Aemond cut in sharply, bringing the tension to focus.

"My Lord," you distracted, on behalf of Aemond's anger, "uh, thank you for asking, that's very kind of you. Though I'm afraid, I'm all, uh, danced out. I won't be on my feet much longer."

"Means fuck off, Lannister," Aemond growled, appearing positively murderous at the honey blonde's audacity.

Jason eyed Aemond, stiffly bidding, "I see. My Prince, my Lady, enjoy your evening."

You bid the older widower the same, Aemond chuckling the moment the lion was swallowed by the crowd. "As if you'd ever dance with a Lannister, let alone court him," he mused, looking down at you. "But he had the right idea, you need to dance at least once. Shouldn't waste this dress standing on the side with me."

"I'm quite comfortable here with you," you shrugged off, seeing your uncle at the royal banquet table exchanging hushed words with King Viserys and his Queen, Alicent.

"C'mon," he held his hand in offer, palm up.

"What? No, no, Aemond, I'm not dancing - I've two left feet!"

"You can break every toe on my feet and I'd still ask you. Just one dance. With me, Lady Tyrell."

"You don't dance!"

"Perhaps the mood has taken me. C'mon, petal."

Your head turned from left to right as if looking for someone spying on you. The moment your hand laid daintily in his, you melted right there on the spot, not having any coherent recollection about how you ended up in the middle of the overzealous contenders. You realized you'd follow this man anywhere.

Beating off your immense anticipation and overwhelming excitement to join The One-Eyed Prince for an intimate activity, you kept your composure amongst everyone else. But, my Gods, did you want to scream in delight the moment he placed one hand on your waist and the other clasping yours to raise in the air at your side. But in this position, you could feel the ridges of his stomach - making you briefly feel embarrassed, wondering how you must've looked to the members of court.

"You sure about this?" You whispered nervously, but you had a feeling that was due to the intense concentration he pinned you with.

"We'll be fine, Rosie, just breathe and follow my lead. I got you."

So launched your dance with Prince Aemond Trgaryen, second son of King Viserys. You couldn't divert your gaze from his porcelain, angled face to save you from overthinking your dancing skill - or lack there of. A few times, he'd smirk and whisper how good you were doing, mind flashing to an image of you and he, married, tumbling in bed sheets together while he praises you. Everything he did became sinful to you; every touch, every glance, every smile, every private studying session setting your skin on fire and heart to beat rapidly.

It was a longer song, string instruments creating a pleasant, ideal, slow-paced, soft environment. Yet you couldn't hear the music, too focused on Aemond's single piercing eye and quirked lips. It was as if the two of you existed outside of time and reality, forgetting the people packed in the stuffy room. Aemond told you softly, "See? You're not so bad at dancing - you just need the right partner."

You wanted to be partnered every single dance from now until your death with Aemond.

"I thought you couldn't dance?" You coyly questioned.

"I said I don't dance, not that I couldn't."

To your idle shock, Aemond gave you a few twirls that made your hair and dress fan around you in an angelic motion. Dare you say it, you even laughed with mirth when you found yourself enjoying the courting season more than ever before - all thanks to your best friend and hopefully, soon-to-be intended. You were acutely aware of his hot and heavy hands holding your flesh, knowing this feeling would burn into your skin to remind you of his closer-than-close proximity. To remind you of his gentleness, to remind you of this dance and the way he gave you his complete and undivided attention.

When the musicians concluded the song, you were grinning authentically while joining in the applause to show appreciation towards the artists.

"Gods," you panted, "that nearly winded me. Think I'm out of shape."

"And you said you had two left feet," he mocked with a scoff, head shaking, but the smirk on his lips told you he wasn't serious. "You're a natural, Rosie."

"You're not such a bad dancer yourself, my Prince," you complimented, the applause subsiding as a new song began. "Though you'll have to excuse me while I get a drink."

You parted way in search of two empty goblets and one of the servants carrying decanters of spiced wine. After being served, you rocked on your toes to try and gaze over the heads populating the room. You were unsuccessful, so, you backed up to the edge of the crowd and moved around the involuntary empty loop along the wall, behind the pillars. There was no reason finding the white haired prince with an eyepatch would be this difficult, yet, you got more than halfway around the room before finally locating him.

Once again, he was leaning on a column, but he wasn't alone. No, there was a gaggle of Lords around him, all exchanging chatter about the Ladies they had to choose from this season.

"Well, c'mon, what about you, Aemond?" Cregan Stark pondered. "Things with The Rose look like they're escalating - congrats. Are wedding bells on the horizon?"

Hearing your name, you quickly scurried behind the same pillar, just out of sight but able to still listen. Look, eavesdropping was highly frowned upon, you knew it was bad manners, but if you heard men gossiping about your name, you would've done the exact same!

Aemond scoffed in pure amusement, "Come off it, Stark."

"No, c'mon, mate, I saw you two," Cregan continued, "dancing together, pressed all close."

"You two make a handsome match, logistically speaking," Paxtan Florant labeled. "Could marry someone abundantly worse, I think you two are quite the pair."

"Handsome and logical as it may look, there's no possibility I'd court the Lady Tyrell, let alone marry her," Aemond declared with a chuckle, your heart stalling and brows wrinkling together. "The Tyrells only just obtained their name in court, they're still too low born for a prince to entertain. Peasants like that are uneducated, prominently not intelligent enough to be my counterpart; uncultured, unwise, unable to retain most information we study during lessons."

You blinked in shock. If anything, you were Aemond's ONLY intellectual counterpart!

"So, she's not as smart as you, mate, so what?" Cregan cocked his head. "You don't need smart, you need fertile and capable."

Though he was attempting to defend you, Cregan's words made your skin prickle. How could they think you weren't intellectually on their level? Was it because you were a woman? You read the same books, attended the same tutoring sessions, was questioned on the same material they were and hardly ever answering incorrectly! And yet now you're reduced to your reproduction system?

The Prince scoffed, "Think about it, if I married a Tyrell, their lowly standing would taint the Targaryen bloodline."

"So, it was all an act?" Paxtan snickered, "C'mon, mate, you two looked dazed, all enamored with each other. Can't convince us there's nothing there, not after that."

Aemond chuckled, "You want the truth?"

"Lay it on us."

"I shared a single dance with her because I pity her. Don't any of you? The way she all but repels suitors? Surely, you've noted her dresses as well? They're terribly revealing, unlike anything a proper lady would don. No self respecting woman nor future princess of mine would wear something like that. It's as if she's so desperate for attention that she has to flaunt her flesh just to get a man to look at her since her personality surely doesn't reel suitors to her."

The men laughed, your mouth dropping open in offense. You're not chasing men away - look what happened with Jason Lannister! It was Aemond who told him to fuck off! After years of friendship, was this truly what Aemond thought of you? How did it come to this - the man you loved, the man you considered your best mate, slandering your name to any able ear willing to listen? How could he speak such calamities about you? Was this entire friendship a folly, just a cover for his pity? Was he only your 'friend' to entertain his own selfish boredom?

Was everything just in your head?

"I don't know, I like how she dresses," Tyler Lannister mused, the teenaged son of Tyland Lannister, Jason's twin brother.

"None the less, I find desperation unattractive in a woman," Aemond rejected, tears gathering in your eyes to silently stream down your cheeks. "Besides, Lady Tyrell isn't my type, she talks far too much. Truly, there's never a moment of silence, I cannot even hear my own thoughts when she's prattling - and it's never anything of substance, just useless nonsense. It's as I said, it was a pity dance, I felt sorry that she has little to no suitors."

"Seriously, mate, have you considered the reason she has no suitors might be because of her proximity to you? They might stay away because they feel threatened by your friendship, thinking she's spoken for - and trust me, no man here would dare compete against a prince for a lady's affection," Cregan scoffed, mildly disgusted by Aemond's choice words.

"The courts know there's no affection shared between Lady Tyrell and I. We are simply friends - no more or less - and that's as far as our relationship will ever progress."

Cregan hummed, nodding his head sarcastically. Then his curiosity questioned, "Answer this: are you attracted to her?"

"Truthfully, I just don't think she's... Attractive enough to be my wife. She's a pretty lass, I'll admit, but if she's called the Rose of the Realm, I fear to learn the appearance of other ladies from Highgarden." A few lads chuckled. "Additionally, there will be public outings I must attend, and as my wife, the people will expect to see someone alluring - someone qualified and fit for the position as a princess of the Realm. Someone stunning and worthy of the title, able to fulfill royal responsibilities."

"Gods, why're you so against this match? You're being terribly superficial, judgmental, and defensive - she's your friend, after all. Wouldn't this be a love-match? Do you know how rare those are?" Luras Arryn snarled, sounding genuinely distraught and jealous.

"And if you're so against her, why do you constantly escort her to formal events?" Arnas Blackwood tacked on. "It creates the illusion that you're courting, my Prince, surely you're aware of that."

"As I stated, her blood isn't pure, but she's also criminally clingy. She's always lingering around and I feel awkward not inviting her to royal events - since she's right there, all alone, in front of me. I only invite her out of obligation. Again, I take pity on the girl, knowing when she leaves the Red Keep, she'll never experience this life again."

"Well, if not the Rose of the Realm, who do you have your sights on?" Luras Arryn asked stiffly.

Aemond's smirk was clear as day, answering swiftly, "The Lady Floris Baratheon is appealing enough."

The lads obnoxiously cheered in supportive approval, directing the conversation in a new direction about how bloody gorgeous Floris was - one of them even mentioning she deserved the nickname, Rose of the Realm.

You heard enough, more than enough, more than you ever wanted to know in an entire lifetime; rightfully insulted past belief and violently nauseated, feeling cold and mechanical. As swiftly as you could, you rushed to set the goblets down and speed walk towards the doors, shoving past both individuals and couples; not wanting to linger where you're clearly not wanted. Where you were apparently not welcome. After making your inconspicuous getaway, tears fell faster than earlier, mind replaying Aemond's words while sprinting to your chambers.

Describing you as clingy, desperate, unattractive, not his type. Dubbing you an improper lady who lacked self respect. Thinking you talk too much - that you prattle nonsense. Labeling you unworthy and unqualified to be his wife or assume the title princess with all the relating responsibilities. How he pities you and doesn't ever want to be more than your friend; thinking you're uneducated, uncultured, unwise. Declaring House Tyrell peasants who would taint his family's pure bloodline. How you 'have' to flaunt your flesh to attract suitors - since your personality did you no favors. Marking you a friend out of obligation...

Were you even friends? Did you even understand the definition of a friend? Have you been operating in a delusion this whole time?

In the words of King Théoden: how did it come to this?

Feeling utterly humiliated, you ran away from your peers; lungs heaving, huffing and puffing, panic ready to overflow. You burst through the wooden door, fully sobbing by now, engaging the iron lock and dropping to lean your weight against it.

Most, if not all, of your insecurities were aired out like soiled bedsheets for all eligible bachelors to know. Aemond might as well have hung a painted wooden sign around your neck: DESPERATE AND CLINGY LOSER - DO NOT ENGAGE.

Nothing about this situation felt normal, it all felt terribly impossible; absolutely heartbreaking and vile, like it was some kind of bad dream. But everyone woke up from dreams. You'd never wake up from this, you'd be forced to remember and relive it day after day. Tonight would haunt you, cast a dark shadow around you as if a thick, temperamental, torrential storm. Yet every storm eventually breaks, but tonight, there was no remedy, no shelter, no protection - you had to weather this alone.

It felt foreign, enduring anything by yourself. For years, Aemond was your partner, always at your side, level headed, insightful and wise; supportive, protective, calming, and something like a safety net when you faced trouble. Now, he's left you devastatingly alone; where after tonight, the very idea of being in the same room as him made you nauseated and anxious, fearful and small.

In that moment, your brain screamed that you were no longer welcome in the Red Keep - Uncle Evin's position be damned.

You sat on the stone cold floor for the better part of half an hour before your bottom turned painfully numb. After sluggishly hiking up your dress skirt, you removed your shoes and tossed them aside, standing to swollen feet to unhook your jewelry and place everything in their safe and proper place. Then, a particular necklace made of red rubies set in a thinly crafted Valyrian Steel chain caught your eye and mocked you. It was Aemond's gift on your ten-and-eighth nameday, laid in a plush velvet case for adequate preservation. This simple piece of jewelry was your absolute favorite in your collection, a treasure beyond words of appreciation that you greatly admired, now rusting in salty tears.

Being gifted this necklace had once convinced you Aemond might've felt the same for you as you do him. You remember even trying to rationalize it as a sign that the One-Eyed Prince was at a loss and didn't know how to confess his feelings. That he was shy, perhaps afraid to ruin your friendship if you didn't feel the same.

Angry tears of betrayal fell like acid over your cheeks, gritting your teeth, clenching your jaw as you snapped the velvet box closed and with a barbaric grunt, hurled it (with impressive strength) across the room. You felt so confused, so lost; deceived, lied to, and puppeted - and then the anger flared again when you realized what family you were angry with.

Why bother being upset, emotional, distressed? You had no right because your feelings truly didn't matter - not in the grand scheme of things. Nobody cared about your trivial feelings! You were just a Tyrell and by comparison, a peasant nobody who never deserved, earned, warranted, or was bestowed respect. In fact, to the Targaryens up on their mounted pedestals, none of you mattered - not a citizen in all Seven Kingdoms.

In fact, it was almost treated as a curse to not be a Targaryen. Some kind of punishment for daring to exist amongst the privileged royals as a lowborn - which, despite your family's newly established status in court, you were still characterized as. In their eyes, anyone NOT a Targaryen was lowborn; deemed unworthy to the white haired bloodline, being merely tolerated for the sake of politics, strategy, and reproduction. It was a sick game, and the Targaryens always won.

They do what they want, when they want, with no consideration towards other people's safety, emotions, wellbeing, stability, or comfort. The Targaryens were always stationed above everyone because, after all, they were closer to Gods than men; entire family spoiled, entitled, narcissistic, holier than thou, avoidant of any and all consequence.

They're legendary. Untouchable and worshipped.

And you? You're just a Tyrell, the tiny beetle trampled under the God's boot. Beetles were essential to any ecosystem, similar to the Tyrell's providing to the Realm productions of wheat, grain, barley, and corn. Similar to your family, beetles are also disposable - meaning the Targaryens might tolerate you, but they never need respect you. They could stomp you into the ground whenever they wanted because where one beetle died, three more takes place. Where one House might falter and fall, become doomed, eradicated, or subcomes to tragedy, others step up in an effort to establish their usefulness; prove their House's necessity to the Realm's ecosystem, attempt to diminish the threat of being razed to the ground by dragon fire.

Why be so upset with the Targaryens when they can do no wrong? What right did you have? And how could you ever think a Prince of the Realm would remotely be romantically interested in you?

You felt delusional and pathetic, crying over a man who was never in your league. Yet betrayal gutted you like a fish, a bright reminder that your friend would expose you like that; offer loud disrespect, speaking hatefully, to finally voice hidden malcontent. It felt impossible to stomach that your first friend, your favorite person, secretly hated you.

Because how could he not? You did not love anyone you could speak so lowly of.

Sobbing harder, you yanked pins out of your hair, working at break-neck speed to strip from your gown, then freezing when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the vanity mirror. The reflection looked distraught with exhausted red eyes; glowing in defeat, in a desperate need for a long, hot soak in the washtub. With shaking hands, you tossed a spare blanket over the mirror, despising the sight of yourself as Aemond's words continued to ring on a loop in your ears.

Clingy, desperate, unattractive, not his type. Improper, lacks self respect, talks too much, lacks suitors. Unworthy, unqualified, pitiful, never desiring to bloom past friendship - which is constructed around obligation. Uneducated, uncultured, unwise. Unfit, tainted, lowborn blood with a lowly personality. Revealing, tempting dresses.

Your mind, heart, and head screamed that no matter how hard you hoped, prayed, and tried, you'd never have a place among the Targaryens. Yelled that Aemond's right: you're ugly on the inside and out; damaged goods, undesirable - all because you were not born amongst fire and blood. Bellowed about your lack of quality, purpose, contribution. Reminded you that the one person you trusted unconditionally never truly wanted to be your friend; that he spoke horrendously on your name when absent, didn't value who you were - and never did.

He took every insecurity you confided in him and weaponized it; used it against you, made it into a joke with people you didn't trust nor want to know about you...

You sunk into the bath water, submerging as if to hide from your own thoughts.

The knock at your chamber door didn't surprise you. Servants and your uncle had been coming and going since you first refused to leave the morning after the ball. You figured Aemond would come around eventually, too curious for his own good and still under the impression he had to play "friend", thinking his deceit was unknown to you.

Aemond called your name through the door, asking, "You awake? Could I come in?"

You didn't answer.

He sighed, "C'mon, I know you're there. You haven't been seen in four days, you have to eat. You should get some air, feel the sunshine."

Silence.

Aemond frowned, "When you're ready, come find me, petal. I'm worried about you."

You wiped the tears off your cheeks, pulling your knees to your chest. For four days, you couldn't stomach the idea of running into the Prince, just wanting to avoid anyone or anything that would remind you of what Aemond said. You understood there were several decisions left to be settled, lost in an endless rampage of confusing emotions, maids bring you full trays of food and removing them with more than half still left.

Humiliation knotted in your chest, the harrowing thought of punishing yourself for being so stupid something you couldn't fight. All you registered was the feeling of betrayal, something that inked into every single thought you had, but with it came sinking realization that you were done. Simple as that.

On the sixth night, you sat with Uncle Evin, forking through your full plate and blurting, "Don't do it."

He paused to finish the bite in his mouth, "Do what, honey girl?"

"Don't - Don't make a match with Alicent and Otto. Don't make the arrangement with Prince Aemond."

Evin nodded slowly, washing his bite down with a mouthful of wine. "There a reason for your change of heart, love? The Queen thinks it's a handsome pairing. Just before, you seemed content with the match - dare I say, you seemed pleased?"

"Things change, Uncle," you spoke evenly, "and I can't shoulder this responsibility. In fact, I... I do not think I'm capable of making my own match. I will be stepping away from courting for the time being."

Your eyes seemed distant and dark, proving serious. So Elvin agreed easily, allowing you to withdrawal from the current season officially. He understood something was deeply amiss and didn't want to make worse whatever turmoil you teetered in. He didn't want to upset you and make things worse - you obviously had enough going on.

Aemond knocked again the next day, "Petal? You awake?" But you didn't answer. He sighed, "You've been missing lessons, love, and I just... I brought you some books. Thought maybe you'd like to catch up?" When there was no answer, he ended, "I'll just leave them here for you, petal... I'm not sure what's wrong, but I hope you're all right in there... I miss you."

You scoffed quietly, wiping your tears.

Ten days after withdrawing from the courting season, you left your chambers for the first time. But it wasn't like anything changed - it was still as if you were invisible, like a ghost. Losing your best mate turned you silent, refusing to attend lessons and since Aemond was your source for solace, had turned to seeking shelter at the Sept. It was the easiest way to avoid everyone - mostly Aemond.

He had shunned the religion the older he got, though respected his mother's devotion to it in trying times. He couldn't remember the last time he was in the Sept... So, it was perfect for you; a safe space.

You were no longer seen in the library - a once daily occurrence. If you ever wanted to read, you sent your ladies maid to collect content for you; but the drive to learn and read had abandoned you as swiftly as Aemond's loyalty. The stables grew cold in your absence, refusing to ride; something that troubled your uncle gravely. No longer did you take meals with family or Aemond, always seeking solitude to eat alone in your room or the physical kitchens; the Red Keep growing dark over your lack of sunshine - that had shone so brightly in the previous weeks. Even then, when you ate, it was in small quantities to only sustain yourself; mostly feeling nauseous when food was put on your stomach.

The first time Aemond saw you, you were returning from the Sept in a dress that reached close to your pulse point of your neck. He tried to get to you, but you slipped through the cracks of the Keep and disappeared when he dodged around a set of Kingsguard. Yet it was still a comfort to him to know you had left your room finally.

He knocked on your door about half an hour later, but like usual, you didn't answer.

"Rosie?" Aemond called, sighing. "I know you've not been feeling yourself, but, uh, tomorrow's Helaena's nameday. We're having dinner for her on the terrace..." He waisted, not hearing a single thing from within your chamber. "You're invited, as usual, petal. Your uncle said he'd attend, wanted you to know you're always welcome at our table."

But you didn't show up, you couldn't bear to see any of them.

You didn't eat that night, you were far too anxious and spiteful against yourself that you refused to allow yourself to indulge in celebrating your companion.

Despite withdrawing, you still heard rumor of all the matches being made and the courtships established through your ladies maid. A cord struck in your gut when you heard the couples you had bet upon were public and engaged, but so were Aemonds... Which meant you both won; and if things were different, would mean a flight on Vhagar to visit Highgarden. On nights of merriment, you would sit alone in the Godswood sometimes; attempting to connect to the Old Gods, but they never spoke back. They never connected with you.

Tonight, you were under the blood red leaves in earnest curiosity; quiet, just as you had been since the day you found out Aemond's betrayal and discouraged your uncle from making a match. It was there Elvin found you, frowning as he took a seat beside you in the grass.

"The Old Gods do not speak to me," Elvin offered softly.

"Nor I," you whispered.

"Yet I always feel at peace here," he nodded, sighing deeply. "I must ask you something, honey girl."

"Hmm?"

"Do you... Do you wish to depart? From King's Landing, I mean?" He questioned. "I ask because I intend to ride for Highgarden, your father's nameday nears. Your mother intends to throw him a grand celebration, since turning 50 seems such a milestone."

"You ride for home?"

"Tomorrow morning."

You paused, then answered, "I would like that... There's nothing left for me here."

Aemond's words had done irreparable damage, making you feel worthless and alone. Bitter. Damaged and unworthy of any such match; forever worrying if your best friend could harbor such ill will and hatred for you, surely, a husband would as well. Yet you were not new to being a woman; you knew the role you were to play, how marriage was strategic and calculated. Political. You could be a wife, you were so sure of it; but would you ever feel worthy of love? You feared you never would.

"We will stay a few weeks."

"I don't know if I would like to return, Uncle."

He offered a sad smile, "I figured as much. But should you want to, feel able to, you may return. You, my sweetling, are always welcome at my side."

You leaned into his shoulder, sighing softly. "I should thank you," you whispered in the wind.

"For what?"

"For taking care of me all these years," you lifted off him to meet his eyes. "You didn't have to, but you wanted to... And you've shown me a father's love when I thought it gone from my life. Thank you, Uncle."

He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, humming, "Don't tell the others but you were always my favorite. I consider it a great pleasure to raise such a gorgeous young lady - and I mean that, honey girl. Inside and out. Now," he pulled back and found his feet, offering his hand to you, "come, we've packing to complete."

"Of course."

However, while in the midst of packing, you felt a jolt in your heart. This had been your home of a decade or more; these people were who you grew and learned with. Who influenced your life in the best and worst of ways; they did not deserve to read your praise and thanks for friendship in a letter... So, you swung a cloak on and ventured out of your room.

Otto was first since he was the easiest to say goodbye to. He was gracious of your parting words of thanks; telling him how much you appreciated his wisdom and riddles.

Aegon was next. He insisted you share a last goblet of wine together - since you did not intend to delay your parting. It turned into a bit of a drinking game with his mates, but you didn't mind; far too used to the company of these debaucherous lechers. Dare you say, you enjoyed yourself.

Helaena was after, your words harder to say as your emotions strangled you. She was a sweet girl, an endearing companion, constant and dependable, albeit a bit strange and unorthodox. But you loved her all the same and cried tears of sadness when hugging her tightly as a last ditch effort to convey your gratitude for her authentic and generous friendship.

You only offered Ser Criston Cole a soft, "Farewell."

Alicent was perhaps hardest to say goodbye to. After Aemond, you were probably closest with the matriarch and found her wisdom and lessons a privilege to learn. She was kind to you; usually with a stern hand, but that was because she could recognize the little girl you once were who missed her mother tremendously. She introduced you to religion, another common bond. She encouraged you, supportive and curious; sharing affinity for the histories, often reading to one another for moments of peace.

Saying goodbye to Alicent hurt. You both shed tears of sorrow, the Queen wishing you the very best and insisting you return for her nameday and other celebratory events. She told you to write, told you to keep in touch; insisting if and when a match was made, to invite her since she would love to attend your wedding. Truly, Alicent considered you one of her own and to know you were departing in pain wounded her.

King Viserys was last. He was already in bed, half-asleep, a Maester at his side; but still, he accepted your audience. You thanked him for his hospitality and kindness - especially to your uncle. You thanked him for hosting you, for allowing you residence at the Keep and the for the years living under royal privilege. You told him you'd not forget his generosity.

You returned to your chambers after that and finished packing. You didn't sleep.

When morning broke, you stood in the courtyard with Elvin; packing the wagon you would use, your horse tacked and waiting as you both intended to ride. Alicent and Helaena came to see you off, hugging you tightly one last time before the Queen offered you a handheld velveteen case. "Just a little something to remember us by," she smiled lightly.

"Oh, as if I'm in a hurry to forget you?" You mused. "My Queen, this is too much, I cannot accept."

"You have not opened it."

"I do not need to, I know you," you smirked. "Your leadership these years is enough gift, my Queen."

"I'm not taking it back, you might as well accept it," she insisted. "Helaena and I picked it out together..."

You lifted the case lid, blinking in shock and gasping lightly. There laid a gorgeous chain necklace of Valyrian Steel, a dragon pendant dangling from front with gems of bright emerald - surely a representation of the Hightower side.

"Thank you, Your Grace, my Princess," you breathed, closing the case and caressing it to your chest. "It's more generous than I deserve but will treasure for the decades to come."

Queen Alicent nodded and pecked your forehead, leaving you alone with Helaena to speak with Elvin. The moment her mother was gone, the Princess asked, "Did you say goodbye to Aemond? I'm surprised he's not here."

"No," you spoke softly, "I cannot, Helaena, it is too painful to even look at him - let alone share words of parting. I have nothing left to say, no more words for him."

She frowned, "You know... I don't think he meant what he said. He says things he does not mean when anxious or feeling as if he's cornered."

Your head cocked, "What? H-How do you know what's been said?"

"I saw it - in one of my dreams."

You sighed, "I know you mean well - "

"I just do not wish for you to think that is his honest opinion about you."

"If it wasn't, he would not have spoken so loudly for so many to hear. Your brother has never sounded so sure, Helaena, I do not wish to relive it."

She sighed and nodded, "Will you write?"

"Every week," you promised, the two of you meeting foreheads and breathing as one. "Take care of yourself, Helaena."

"You, too, Rosie," she smiled, letting you depart. Alicent clipped your new necklace in place and gvae you a final hug, watching you mount your horse, stare at the pair for a moment longer, then follow your Uncle Elvin out of the courtyard.

As you rode down the streets, Aemond came sprinting out of the Keep in a blind panic after running into Aegon in the hall. Normally, Aemond wouldn't have bat an eye at his hungover brother, but he had said something about you drinking him under the table and demanded to know what Aegon meant. Upon hearing you had "left", Aemond sprinted to your bed chambers and didn't even knock - just burst in.

Never before had the Prince felt such anger as when he learned you had left King's Landing without saying goodbye. Without a single word to him - as if the past decade+ hadn't meant anything! He needed to know, Aemond needed to see for himself the truth because surely, someone was mistaken. His brother, surely still drunk and misremembering because there was no possible way you could've left! Not without Aemond! Not without a word! He refused to believe it.

He panted, tears gathering in his eye, finding your room bare and stripped. Aemond's breathing picked up in panic, hands shaking as he stepped into your room; looking, desperately, for any sign of life. But there was nothing... Nothing, save for a letter addressed to him left on your table with the ruby necklace he gifted you for your 18th nameday.

Gingerly, Aemond reached out and plucked up the necklace. He frowned, petting the jewels in disbelief; noting the way a few were missing, some loose - evidence of your anger. Slowly, Aemond sunk into a chair and with the necklace still in hand and his heart hammering in his chest in a rattle, opened your letter.

Aemond ― I know you'll be the one to find this, of that, there's no doubt. Sooner or later, you will learn of my departure and come looking, and for that, for being unable to say anything in person, I am sorry. Though this might come as a shock, it shouldn't as I would hate to give you the satisfaction of being right by burdening you with a desperate goodbye. I would hate for you to think I am clingy, even after our friendship died. So, I figure a letter is better than nothing. Goodbye, Aemond. Though all a lie and dedicated ruse, thank you for the years of friendship. You made time in the Red Keep pleasant enough. ― Rosie

Aemond sprinted to the courtyard, flinging open doors and shoving past patrons; desperate to find you, understanding you overheard him all those weeks ago and needing to apologize. He needed to explain himself, the confirmation now that Aemond was the cause of your pain and reclusion? His heart was about to burst. He skidded to a halt in the dirt, turning left and right and in a circle as he realized the gates were open and you were not in sight.

"Aemond?" Helaena questioned softly, Alicent taking to her side. "Brother?"

"Wh-Where is she?" He panted. "Rose - Rose - Rosie, where is she? Where is she!?"

"She's gone, Aemond," Alicent frowned, shaking her head slowly; startled by his desperate tone, "gone with her uncle back to Highgarden."

"When? When? When did they leave!?"

"She's gone, brother," Helaena snipped, sending him a look of disappointment; ears ringing from her dream, repeating what he had said to you.

Aemond swallowed harshly, asking his sister, "She heard me, didn't she? I know you know, Helaena, please, tell me. She heard me?"

The Princess nodded and walked away, the One Eyed Prince turning to his mother in desperation and for the first time in 10 years, perhaps more, he collapsed in her arms. Emotion clawed at his chest and into his throat, starting to tremble, sniffing heatedly; his mother's arms tight and comforting.

"I love her," he whispered.

"I know," Alicent answered, "but she should've been the one you told." A pause and her hand lifted to caress the back of his head, just like when he was a child. "It's too late now, Aemond. She's gone."

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

does this count towards the Clingy Baby collection? since Aemond technically calls her clingy amongst other things?

[raven-dor]

come back to me

In which gwayne hightower leaves his wife asleep before the battle, and she worries over his return

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader, alicent hightower x PLATONIC!reader, rhaenyra targaryen x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: allusions to nsfw, angst, old friends, hurt/comfort, arguing (not actual arguing, just reader letting out her worry), fluffy ending

WORD COUNT: 2,994

Her emerald green dress flowed with the wind as she stood on their shared balcony, staring at the town below. He always admired her from afar, she was angelic, Gwayne had come to realize over the years. He walked behind her, his arms snaking around her waist, a gentle touch that spoke volumes as to how much he treasured her. “Come to bed, my love.” 

She hummed, leaning her head back into his chest. “If I come to bed, this night will end, and that will mean you are leaving.” She shook her head, her resistance palpable in the air. “So I will not.” 

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Will you deny your lord husband the pleasure of your company before he goes into battle?” 

She laughed, twisting in his hold. “Is this a request or a demand?” 

“It is a plea.” He leaned down, inches away from her lips. “I do not wish to leave on bad terms. This battle will be one for the histories.” He shivered, pulling her closer. “Indulge me.” 

She leaned forward, cruelly teasing him. Quickly, she pulled back, escaping his hold easily. She walked past him, smirking. “If we must.” 

He grabbed her wrist, spinning her back to him. She gasped, her knees weakening under his piercing gaze. Gwayne had always had a hold on her, even long before they were promised to each other, and she was just the Dowager Queen’s childhood friend. He was a good man; he always had been. “You know I would never force myself on you, my lady. But I must confess…” He leaned down, whispering. “If I do not kiss you, I will surely die.”

She giggled, reaching for his lips. “We cannot have that, can we?” 

He collided her lips with his, groaning. “My darling girl…” 

“Take me to bed, Gwayne.” She murmured, linking her lips with his once more. “Please.” 

“Whatever you wish, my love.” He grabbed her thighs, wrapping her legs around him with ease. “Whatever you wish.” 

 

The sun peaked through their wide-open curtains, stirring her from her otherwise peaceful sleep. She rolled over, reaching out for her husband. Her reach came up empty, his side of the bed still warm. She gasped, realizing what he had done. She sat up quickly, calling for her maid. “Help me dress.” 

The young girl nodded. “Which dress would you-” 

“It does not matter!” She snapped. “I am sorry, truly. Any dress, just do it quickly.” 

The maid threw on her frock, a simple green velvet slip that she typically wore when exploring the woods surrounding Old Town. Smiling gratefully, she raced through the halls, not caring for the looks that followed her. The doors to the courtyard burst open, and she scanned quickly for her husband. The Dowager Queen stood alone in the center, staring at the gate. Gathering herself, she approached, curtsying. “My Queen.” 

Alicent smiled lightly. “No need for such formalities. We were once friends, Y/N.” 

She ignored the request. “Has your brother-” 

The queen nodded knowingly. “He just left, I’m afraid.” She put a comforting hand on her sister-in-law’s shoulder. “He did not want to wake you.” 

“I-” Tears began to well, and she coughed. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

“Y/N, wait!” 

She had already dashed up the stairs, her tears now fully streaming down her cheeks. 

It had been over a month before she’d received word that the battle was over and the surviving soldiers would be returning home. In that month, not one letter from Gwayne had graced her room or, more accurately, her cell. The Red Keep was a prison now, though if Gwayne came back, she would not tell him. He loved his family dearly, especially his sister and learning of his wife’s distaste for them would surely cause a rift. 

She closed her eyes, trying to remember what had only been twenty years ago, when she, Alicent, and Rhaenyra would sit in the gardens, jesting about tutors and gossiping about knights of the realm. When Alicent left to attend to her father, Rhaenyra would look over at Y/N, teasing her about her budding crush on Alicent’s brother. 

She had not seen Rhaenyra in years. Now, her nephew by law had usurped her throne, and there was nothing Y/N could do but watch. She had no dragon, no power of her own. Which she had been contempt of before her husband had been dragged into this whole mess. Thanks to her nephew, he might never return to her. All she could do now was count down the days until the horns blew, and she stood in the courtyard, raking over the faces in the crowd until she found Gwaynes. 

A knock rang through her chambers, her guard's voice coming through the door. “My lady, the Dowager Queen, would like to see you.” 

She sighed, taking a deep breath. “I will be out in a moment.” 

Alicent rarely called for her anymore. The last time had been when Viserys had died, a letter arrived to Old Town not for her brother, the Lord Paramount, but for you. For you to come.

You had not; after all, you had just given birth to your second child, and you were too frail to walk. Gwayne had refused to even let you entertain the notion, insisting that your health came before his sister, even if she was the queen. 

Her chamber doors were wide open, and Alicent sat at her table, tea and two glasses in front of her. The Queen smiled, waving away her servants and guard. “Leave us.” 

“But my lady…” 

“My sister-in-law is no threat, Sir Rickard.” The older man nodded, ushering the servants out of her chambers and closing the doors soundly behind him. “Are you well?” 

“As well as I can be, my lady.” Y/N smiled. “And yourself?” 

“As well as one can be, I suppose.” The two former friends sat in silence, sipping their tea. The fire crackled behind them, and Y/N began to wonder what exact moment had caused a rift in their friendship. 

“I must tell you something.” Alicent looked torn like she was fighting herself to stay silent. “You must not tell anyone, not even my brother.” 

“Of course.” She nodded quickly. “Of course, Alicent.” 

“I made a mistake.” Her face was ghostly white. “Aegon–” She gasped, a sob wrecking through her body. Y/N froze, unsure of what to do. “He was never supposed to be king. I misunderstood.” 

“Misunderstood?” 

“Viserys, he was spouting nonsense about Aegon the Conquerer, and I thought-” She scoffed. “I misunderstood.” 

Y/N sat back in her chair, staring at the fire. “You mean to tell me that this entire war started because of a misunderstanding?” Alicent remained silent. “Alicent, you must tell Rhaenyra. Before it’s too late.” 

The queen laughed. “It’s already too late. Her son is dead; my grandson was viciously murdered in his own bed. She would not see me. You remember how stubborn she is.” 

Y/N knelt in front of Alicent, taking her hands in hers. “Alicent, for the good of the realm, you must meet with Rhaenyra and come to an agreement. Atrocities have been dealt by both sides, but if you tell her this…” She shivered. “It would save thousands. It would save your brother, Helaena, your…guard.” She tightened her hold on her old friend's hands. “Please.” 

“I-” She nodded, not trusting her voice to stay collected. Y/N stood, dusting off her dress and sitting back down. 

“Have you heard any word of your brother?” 

“None.” It was Alicent’s turn to hold her hand. “He will return to you, I am sure. He is a great knight.” 

She nodded. “He is; that is what worries me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He would never leave his men behind. Even if that meant…” She trailed off, sighing. “You understand.” 

Alicent nodded, her heart at the bottom of her stomach. Her old friend had always been melancholy since childhood. Her parents had perished in a horrible accident, and she had been a ward of the crown ever since. She could not bear to be the cause of her further grief. 

“How are the children?” 

“Well. Daeron writes that Arthur is practically as talented at the sword as he. Emma is still just a babe, but she grows larger by the day.” She murmured. “As far as I’ve heard.” 

“You will be back with them soon; I promise you that.” Alicent smiled. “I understand what it is like to miss a child.” 

Y/N nodded, but she knew Alicent could never understand. How could she? She had never been forced to leave her children to come and serve a usurper of a king. 

The horns had blown midday only two days later. Y/N’s worry for her husband had turned into anger over the past months, anger that he did not say goodbye to her before he went off to war. She’d been sitting on her balcony when the deep sound blared through the city, rousing her out of her stupor. Even if she was angry with her husband, that did not mean her heart did not yearn to be in his arms, to be kissed like it was the last moment they would ever live. Her dress billowed behind her as she ran, again not bothering to acknowledge the prying eyes that followed. She slowed, and two guards opened the doors slowly, slower than she would have liked. 

Walking down the staircase gracefully, she tried to keep her composure when she could not find Gwayne in the crowd below. Her heart dropped, and she clenched her fists, nausea bubbling in her stomach. She was too young to be a widow, too young to raise two children on her own, too young to- 

“My lady.” She turned around, almost sobbing at the sight. There stood her lord husband, in all his glory. His hair was dirty, his skin broken, but all Y/N saw was her love before her and alive. 

She bowed, making no movement to embrace him. 

“Lord Husband. I am most grateful for your return.” 

His eyebrows raised, a smirk gracing his delicate face. “How formal of you, my dear.” 

She huffed, turning on her heels and walking back into the castle. Gwayne followed behind swiftly, entirely confused as to why he did not have her in his arms. They walked in silence to their chambers, servants stilling at the sight of Gwayne. “Leave us.” He ordered, not sparing a second glance. They scurried out, the doors shutting loudly.

He stared at her curiously. “My Love-” 

“Let me dress your wounds.” She sighed, walking over to their wardrobe. “It seems you have many.” 

He nodded but made no movement to sit or remove his armour. “Darling-” 

“Turn for me, my lord. I need to remove your armour.” 

He nodded once more, turning as requested. The tension was palpable, but neither of them made any effort to break it. She quickly removed his armour, setting it delicately on the table. “Sit.”

She stood in front of him, leaning down to dress his wounds. His hands ached to reach out and pull her into his lap, but he made no effort; he simply stared at her. “Was the battle difficult?” 

He nodded, hissing as she disinfected a cut. She mumbled apologies. “It was quite the scene. A dragon’s fight is something I hope you never witness.” Y/N simply hummed, concentrating on the cut. “Did you fare well while I was away?” 

She tensed, nodding quickly. “As well as one can do when their husband leaves without a word.” 

Ah. So that is why she had not jumped into his arms when he arrived. Gwayne had wondered why he had not been making his wife sigh and gasp from his tender touch. “I thought it was best if-” 

“You thought wrong.” She murmured, walking over to the bowl of clean water. He couldn’t fight it anymore, reaching out to grab her hips. She gasped but made no effort to look down. 

“Please forgive me.” He tightened his hold, dropping his head against her stomach. “I did not want to wake you.” 

“So I was told.” He looked up, and she sighed. “Your sister.” 

“You looked so peaceful; I did not wish to see you cry.” 

She laughed humourlessly. “Who said I would waste any tears on you?”

He sat back, clutching his chest playfully. “You wound me, wife.” 

She scoffed, squirming in his hold. “You cannot charm me into forgiving you.” 

“I made no such claim.” 

“Yes, well.” She sighed, pulling out of his arms and rinsing the rag. “You thought it. Of that, I am sure.” 

He smiled. Her spirit had always drawn him in. From the first day they had met, she had not withered at the sight of a lord. She held her ground, staying as strong as she was. “Withering is for flowers,” she told him. “I am no flower.” He laughed, placing a daisy behind her ear. “No. But you are as pretty as one.” That had made her blush. How he wished they could go back to then when everything was much simpler. When the thought of dragon fire didn’t threaten their very lives, their children’s lives. 

She stood back in front of him, but this time, he put his hands on her hips, pulling her into his lap. Her cheeks grew red, and she looked down at his neck, tending to a rather nasty bruise. “My love, please look at me.” 

“I can’t look at you.” She shook her head defiantly. “I am angry at you.” 

“Y/N-” He cupped her cheek with his hand, caressing it with his thumb.

“Don't!” She yelped like she’d been burned, jumping up. “You left me. I woke up, and you were gone. No note, no kiss goodbye. What if you had died?” She scoffed. “But no, ‘I looked too peaceful to wake.’ That is a horrid excuse. You’re a coward, Gwayne Hightower. A coward.” 

Gwayne stood up, his eyebrows furrowed. “Now, wait just a moment-” She hit his chest, tears streaming down her face. “How could you? Do you know how worried sick I was? Do you?” 

“Stop this.” 

She shook her head, continuing to beat at his chest. “Don’t ever do-” 

He grabbed her wrists delicately, stopping her. “Stop this madness.” His voice was gentle, not a trace of anger or annoyance found.

She sobbed. “You mongral. Let me-” 

“I understand that you are upset, my darling. But surely you realize this is not the solution.” He lowered his head, their lips inches apart. “I wanted to remember my happy girl. No tears.” 

“I wouldn’t have cried.” She murmured, still fighting against his hold. 

“As opposed to what you are doing now?” 

She glared at his chest. “You are without a doubt the most-” Releasing one of her wrists, he brought his hand to her chin, raising her head gently. When she still refused to look at him, he leaned down, kissing her nose, cheeks, and forehead until she finally gave in to his love.

“I have to admit, I was rather disappointed at the reception I received.” 

“If only you had left a note.” She mumbled. “Never do that to me again. Promise me, Gwayne.” 

He nodded, kissing each knuckle gently. “I swear to you.”

She wanted to take him to bed, admire his form, and thank the gods old and new that he was with her and not dead on a battlefield, but the reality was he still had many cuts that needed to be tended to, and he desperately needed get the stench of battle off his skin. 

“You need a bath.” 

“Are you insinuating that I smell?” Gwayne tilted his head, a jesting look on his face. She nodded, giggling. 

“Terribly.”

He groaned, letting her out of his hold. “Very well.” 

Y/N couldn’t help but wince as she watched him peeled off his shirt. “Let me help you.” 

“I can do it-” She glared, and he gave in immediately. “Fine, fine.” 

She nodded, carefully untying the top before lifting his shirt. Her cheeks grew bright red, his torso still as muscular as the day they were married. Throwing his shirt on the ground, her breath caught. His eyes were piercing hers once more, drawing her in. She smiled, kissing a cut on his chest gently. “Does this hurt?” 

It was his turn for his breath to catch. He shook his head, words failing. Another cut, another bruise; she followed the trail until it stopped at a cut on his lower lip. 

“My noble boy.” She kissed his lip lightly, sending shivers down the brave knight’s spine. This time, when he gave her that look, she couldn’t resist it. She placed her arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to hers. “I missed you so.” 

He groaned, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “I’m so sorry, my darling. Please forgive me.” 

“There is nothing to forgive. I was acting a fool.” She sighed as he nipped down her neck. “Gwayne, the bath…”

“I promise you I will bathe, but if I do not have you this instant, I will simply combust.” 

They stumbled over to the door, locking it haphazardly. “Take me to bed.” 

“I will, I will, but first…” He turned her around, undoing her laces quickly. He groaned. “Good god, woman, how many laces can a dress have?” 

She laughed, throwing her head back. “Woman?” 

“Forgive me. My lady, light of my life, darling, love-” 

Now she was fully cackling, and turned around, smothering his face his affection. “Let us retire, please.” 

He nodded, the laces finally coming undone. She stumbled backward, drawing him in with her spell. He tapped his chin, tilting his head. “I was about to do something.” 

She raised her eyebrows. “I believe, lord husband, you were about to ravish me.” 

He grinned, stalking towards her. “Thank you, my lady, for reminding me.” 

[ghostfacd]

you’ll see my face in every place (but you can’t catch me now)

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!capitol!reader

summary: you were finally dead, so why did you show up everyday in Coriolanus’s life?

warnings: coriolanus is a sick motherf, seriously sick. mentions of sex, mentions of killing & snakes, reader finally getting justice in end (sorta?)

part 1 | can be read off as standalone but recommend reading for context

Coriolanus Snow was utterly and undeniably fucked. He absolutely was.

He was sure when he had gotten rid of Sejanus, Lucy Gray, and you—that that was the end of it, and no one would hear about it again. After all, the Plinths and Ciceros took in Coriolanus like a son, thanking them for taking such good care of their son and daughter when they couldn’t.

And it wasn’t like Coriolanus Snow was some idiot. He knew how to cover up his tracks, and he knew how to do it good. If there’s one thing about him, it’s that he believes if one truly wants to get rid of something, one should do all in his power to make it happen. And that’s what Coriolanus did. He erased every trace of Lucy Gray Baird and Sejanus, and hopefully, you.

Coriolanus woke up one morning in the Cicero estate feeling extremely cold. He looked outside to see snow, which made his lips quirk up in a sly smile. Your parents were devastated over your death, Mrs. Cicero automatically offering Coriolanus your bedroom because she couldn’t stand her only daughter being gone.

- - -

Coriolanus opens your closet, a walk-in closet that not even the whole District 1 would be able to afford. Gosh, he remembered the first time he was here and you were showing him a pretty short dress that covered nothing, and how he wanted to take you right then and there. He did minutes after, and that short dress was long discarded on the floor.

But now your presence was gone, just your clothes that were still there. Mr. Cicero refused for the maids to get rid of it; he said he wanted to remember his daughter for the lovely fashionable girl she was. Coriolanus looked through your sweaters, much were pink or white, but Corio found a dark blue one that was gender neutral that he liked.

Although it was just polyester, Coriolanus felt chills as he wore it. He swore he took in a whiff of your perfume. How could that have been possible? It was weeks after yours and Sejanus’s death, weeks after he went back to the Capitol with a fake sob story and bloodshot eyes. There was no way—just absolutely no way that your perfume could still be lingering on this old polyester sweater.

Snow gasps. A loud sound hits your window, a bird, he assumes. And as he gets closer, his suspicions are confirmed when he sees a unconscious bird on the floor, with snow melting around it.

Snow melting. Snow. Melting.

Coriolanus needed to get out of his own head. It wasn’t healthy.

He was now an apprentice to Dr. Gaul, a spot that brought him enormous pride. Soon, he’ll take over all of Panem, and make sure any remaining rebels would be expelled, or better yet, executed.

“Hey,”

Was Coriolanus going crazy? He was so sure he heard your voice in the trees, just right outside your estate. Mrs. Cicero, your mother, had expressed how much you liked planting, and it was evident from the amount of tall bark trees littering around the entire home.

In the lab, Dr. Gaul was teaching Coriolanus how to be gentle with the snakes so he wouldn’t get bitten like poor Clemensia had before the 10th Hunger Games even started. He thought she was long dead by now, but she had came to him a few weeks prior yelling about how she can’t believe he never visited her in the hospital. Coriolanus didn’t outright tell her—but he saw fading scales all over her neck. The turtleneck wasn’t doing her any good.

“Alright, here you go,” Dr. Gaul says gently, handing Coriolanus one of the longer snakes. He looked into its eyes, and was horrified to see your eyes stare back at him. He shrieked, flapping the snake into the air and blinking a few times to make sure he wasn’t going crazy.

“What is wrong with you Mr. Snow?!” Dr. Gaul asks, astonished by her star pupil’s behavior.

He only gulps, excusing himself home early that day.

- - -

“Oh Corio, I wanted you to have this,” Mr. Cicero approached him as he sat in front of your giant vanity. He was holding a few printed photographs of you and Coriolanus, huddled up together, looking as cute of a couple as ever. He remembered those moments, where you were smiling like crazy as you looked up at him with the doe eyes he seem to have been missing lately. “You know my daughter really loved you. And I’m not a man of many words—but I want to thank you for being there for her. She loved you so much she begged me to let her go to district 12 to be with you and Sejanus again. I hate the way things happened, but at least I know she was loved by you.”

And slowly, Snow starts to crack.

When the Ciceros had fallen asleep, he lit the fireplace, watching as the fire slowly get taller. He takes one good look at the photographs, then throws them in with the flames. He gave his blood, sweat, and tears for this moment. To finally be in a huge estate, to be with loving parents, to be an apprentice to the most important doctor in the Capitol. He deserved this. He did. He gave up his best friend, he gave up his own tribute, Lucy Gray—not that she mattered or anything because Coriolanus established a clear line in his head that she was simply just a district scum who was lucky enough to win because of him. And lastly, he gave up his girlfriend, Y/N Cicero, you, for this.

Coriolanus Snow was not going to let anything get in the way of his goal.

- - -

The next week, Coriolanus suggests the Ciceros throw a party to memorialize you. Coriolanus thinks of this big, grand, emotional speech. He’ll tell everyone how much of a sweetheart you were, how much you two were inlove. Then he’d get stern—saying that he’ll make sure your death won’t be forgotten, especially when he plans on running for president soon.

Everyone claps, so infatuated with the way he speaks. It’s cause he lies; straight from his mouth.

“I know what you did.”

The trees speak to Coriolanus in hushed violent murmurs, almost as if they were mad at him. They spoke in riddles, but sometimes they’d just outright say what Coriolanus had done.

“You killed them. You killed them all.”

“Blood is on your hands.”

“Snow bleeds red.”

And it frustrates Snow. It’s something, for once, that he can’t control. It sickens him that he’s unable to anything about the trees.

- - -

Mr. and Mrs. Cicero die a year later. Rebel bombing, they assumed. But only Coriolanus knew that it wasn’t—that it was him, and because he was like a son to them for the past year, he was under their will, meaning he got the entire estate.

He ran for president with the Cicero family name, and with their money too.

Coriolanus marries Livia Cardew. He doesn’t like her, much less tolerate her, but she was a good asset. Just a trophy hanging from his arm.

And Livia didn’t mind, she knew Snow was incapable of loving her, and she had an itching feeling it had something to do with you.

But Livia loved you when she was friends with you at the Academy, so she doesn’t bat an eye when Coriolanus mumbles out your name while they’re having sex. In fact, Coriolanus refused to touch or look at Livia unless he was under enormous pressure and needed someone—no something—to get his anger out on. Livia always took the blows, but she was still grateful that she hadn’t married Fetus, because that—that wouldn’t have been pretty.

The first thing Snow does as president is cut down the trees. The forests and woods? Well he burned them all. He didn’t like the cat and mouse chase that Lucy Gray had played on him in the woods, so he figured getting rid of them was like finally erasing you from his brain. No more Sejanus Plinth, no more Lucy Gray Baird, and fucking finally, finally!—no more Y/N Cicero.

But Coriolanus made a slight error. Because 64 years later, his ex lover comes back to haunt him, only this time, in the form of a girl from District 12, Katniss Everdeen.

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (VIII)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,115

CW: MDI 18+, SMUT, p in v, loss of virginity, oral (f and m receving), fingering, possesivness, corruption kink, praise kink (use of good girl) toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, co-dependancy issues, not proofread!

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my Original characters

a/n sorry it took so long to update...but heres the wedding night!, next chapter will be a time skip!

(go to the divider by @zaldritzosrose, to skip the smut)

The feast passed over in the blink of an eye and before she knew it her and Aemond stood in his, or now their shared chambers.

Her belongings had been moved over during the ceremony, though they all seemed slightly out of place amongst his things.

Before, in the rare times she was in Aemond’s room, everything was always neat, nothing out of its designated spot, though his rooms lacked anything too personal, with no tapestries or rugs, nothing to permanent too show they were his.

Though it was no surprised that he seemed to have been own personal library in his rooms, with a whole wall dedicated to his collection.

Now the rooms seemed warmer, with his bookcase draped in her tapestries, the floor covered in her rugs. And his bed filled with her mountains for pillows and blankets. His room was bigger than hers, and it allowed everything, even her seemingly endless wardrobe to fit in effortlessly.  Though apart of it still felt strange. Perhaps it was how the furniture was so different from hers. Where her bed was carved with sea horses and dragons, his was bare, bar the one carving at the centre of his bed, a dragon, Vaghar.

Her vanity had been brought in, all her belongings placed perfectly, her new chemise placed carefully on the bed.

Her maid, Jeyne, had accompanied her. Taking of her dress and her jewels.

She already missed her gown, hating that she only got to where it for a few hours and would never be worn again.

“Would you like to keep it?” Jeyne asked softly, as she brushed through Aemma’s hair.

“yes” she nodded, it was such a beautiful dress, weeks and weeks had gone into the design alone. With its ivory coloured, laced with gold designs of dragons. The way the were sewn in away that they almost looked as if they were dancing, some beaded with emeralds, some with sapphires and the others beaded with black opal gems. “its too beautiful to be discarded off, may haps we could have the dress made into another gown.”

Jeyne smiled softly, “of course, princess”.

The door opened then, and Aemond entered.

Jeyne stepped back, curtsying before leaving the room.

They were alone, truly alone. It was different than all the times before, this time she stood before him, in a sheer chemise, that left almost nothing to the imagination.

“Aemond” she whispered as he stepped into the room.

He wore a rich red robe, where he had changed you did not know, but the sight of his bare chest peaking out from his robe, caused all thoughts to cease.

“Aemma,” he moved towards you, smiling, his eyes filled with something akin to a predator watching its prey. “you look stunning” he hummed, his hands coming up to play with the straps of your chemise.

You gave him a shy smile, “i-I so are you?” she said, nervously.

He hummed again, moving her strap to fall of her shoulders, “are you nervous?”                                

“yes”

He hummed, his hand reaching up to grab her breast, she gasped. “good” he whispered, “it will hurt, but only the first time, and then…then my sweet Aemma you will feel nothing but pleasure” he vowed, moving up to take her lips in his.

She moaned into his mouth, her feet stumbling backward until she landed on the bed. She gasped softly as she did. He leaned over her once they had reached the bed, his hand gasping her chin as he pulled her into another kiss, before pulling back and standing between her legs.

He kissed his thumb as he moved back to look at her, taking in her form. Her hair messed slightly, her chemise had fallen slightly, only one move away before falling off and revelling her breasts to him.

“off” he said, motioning her to stand up, nervously she did, her hands going to pull her chemises up, “no,” he said, stopping her, “I shall see all of you”

She looked down at the floor nervously, before reaching once again towards her straps.

As she pulled her chemise down, Aemond let out a loan groan.

“gods, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen” he said, causing her to blush.

“I want to see you to.”

Aemond smirked, reaching to pull of his robe, he bared himself to her. His full form, the muscles on his chest, his half erect cock.

She blushed even more taking him in. “I think you are most handsome, Aemond” causing him to smile, a true smile. “but I want to see all of you” she insisted, moving her hand towards his face. He grabbed her hand as she reached for his eye patch. “please” she asked.

He hesitated, “why?” he almost sneered, “tis your brothers fault I lost it”

“but its not mine.” She sighed, “please Aemond, I wish to see my husband, all of him”

He sighed, before letting go of her wrist allowing her to remove his eyepatch.

He had expected her gasp in fear, retreat away from him. Instead, though she gasped, it was more in awe than anything else.

“is that a sapphire?” she asked coming to caress his scar. He nodded. “its beautiful” she sighed, before placing a soft kiss below it.

She smiled softly, as she took a step back, “have you…?” she asked, shyly, she did not know much of what was to come, bar what her septa had told her, and though she grew jealous of the idea of Aemond lying with another woman, a apart of her hoped he had, hoped he could guide her and teach her. All she wanted was to please him, make him happy, and how could she if she didn’t have him to show her how?

He nodded, smirking slightly, “of course, wife” he nodded, moving to grasp her chin, “but worry not non of them shall ever compare to you” he said as he kissed her once more. He held her face to him, gripping the back of her neck, his tongue teasing entrance into her mouth before finally pushing his tongue into her mouth. And ever submissive, Aemma allowed him to dominate her mouth. She moaned softly into his mouth, as she once again laid back on the bed, his body effortless slotting over hers.

His mouth slowly left hers, moving to kiss the nape of her neck before slowly dropping to his knees.

He sent her a smirk, as he buried himself between her thighs.

He licked her folds teasingly at first, savouring the taste of her.

She was growing wetter and wetter with each motion of his tongue, moaning softly as he started to focus his ministration on her clit.

He gripped her hips as he gave fast and quick licks to her clit, his eyes meeting hers as she gripped the bedding in pleasure.

“Husband” she moaned, and it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, for so long he had worshiped the sound of his name on her lips, but hearing her call him her husband? The possessive in him became tenfold. She was his, in the eyes of the gods and the realm, she was his and he was hers and nothing could change that. And gods did he love it, love her.

His tongue moved faster, realising in her moans. His arm still griped her wait, stopping her from moving his hips, though his second arm left her waist, moving his fingers to tease her whole.

She was tight, completely untouched. She gasped as he entered her, her walls clenching his fingers as they entered her.

Groaning as he imagined how they would soon feel wrapped around his cock.

Pumping his fingers in and out of her at a leisurely pace, as he sucked at her clit.

“Aemond” she moaned this time, reaching her hand to grip his hair.

He groaned as she did, before reaching out to grip her hand alongside her waist.

His fingers clenched around him, her peak approaching.

Her moans came more present, getting louder and louder before she let out a high-pitched moan, her whole body reacting as she came.

Aemond moved back slowly, taking in her messy hair and bliss ridden face.

She was out of breath, collapsing fully on the bed.

“wife” he groaned, his body moving over hers.

She smiled softly as she looked up at him.

“is that what it always feels like?” she asked, breathless.

He smirked, “It can”

“I want to do the same to you?”

He looked unsure at her request, though he had imagined fucking her face countless times, he craved to feel her hot cunt wrapped around his cock.

But as she moved up to kiss him, her hand slowly reaching down to grab his cock. He groaned as she nervously touched his cock, her face determined to please him.

“Aemma.” He groaned, as his face buried himself into the nape of her neck.

He shoved himself off her, her hands slowly falling from his cock to her thighs as he moved.

“up” he demanded, as she nervously stood from the bed. ”kneel”. She did so hesitantly, looking up at him with nervous doe eyes.

The sight alone was enough for him to cum.

his hand gripped her jaw as she looked up at him, his thumb pushing into her mouth slowly. “suck” he demanded, as her reached to tuck her hair behind her ear.

She complied without complaint, gently sucking on his thumb as he pushed it into her mouth. He groaned as she did, moving his thumb out of his mouth.

“kiss it” he said, pushing his hips so his cock moved closer to her face.

She looked up at him unsure as she kissed his tip. Her lips were soft an gentle as they kissed the tip of his cock.

“again” he groaned, as she kissed it again, her hands laid pliantly on her knees , her hair now gripped between his hands as he made a makeshift bun as he held her head to his cock as she started to pepper kisses across his cock.

“fuck, Aemma” he moaned, “open” he said, and as she did, he slowly pushed his cock between her lips.

her mouth case warm, the feeling of her mouth felt almost as delightful as he imagined the walls of her cunt would feel like wrapped around his cock.

her hands slowly moved up from where they say on your knees. One hand gripped his waist, in an attempt to stabilise herself as Aemond moved her head to bob up and down his cock. the other went to reach for the base of his cock, he barley fit in her mouth, and as she gagged around his cock, causing him to groan and the eyes rolling back.

“fuck” he groaned again, “use your hand to grab what cannot fit” he moaned, moving your head faster, “move it up an- yes like that, good girl” he moaned as she started to motion her hand up and down on the part of her cock she couldn’t fit into her mouth.

He moved his hand to grip the back of her neck, his hips now thrusting forward as he slowly started to fuck her face. Though he didn’t for long as before he knew it he could feel his own peak approaching.

He tore himself from her mouth, causing her to groan at the loss of him in her mouth.

She looked up at him, bewildered, before reaching forward in an attempt to take him back in her mouth.

“no, Aemma” he laughed, pulling her body up from the floor. “on the bed.” He said, as he himself moved to lay back, patting the space beside him.

She crawled across the bed to him, stopping in front of him. His legs were spread, and she crawled into his lap, softly kissing his lips.

She could taste herself on his tongue and she was sure he could taste himself on her own tongue.

She could feel his cock between her thighs, edging closer to her cunt.

“lay back” he said against her lips.

Laying down on the bed, Aemond once again crawled on top of her. His hand moved down to her cunt, his finger gathering up her wetness as he once again teased her entrance, he pushed two fingers into her slowly, stretching her more so that he had before, preparing her for his cock.

She moaned as he did so, the stretch delightful as he pumped her full, but she still craved more, she craved his cock.

“please” she begged.

“please what?” he hummed, pumping her slowly.

“I want you” she moaned.

“you have me.” “no…I want your…your cock” she whispered the last word, feeling dirty from saying it .

“my cock?” he teased, as he removed his fingers from her.

“Yes!” she groaned, moving to grab him, “please”

He hummed, smiling softly as he positioned himself between her thighs.

He kissed her softly as he slowly pushed into her.

Her face scrunched discomfort as he stretch her and broke her maidenhead. He pushed into her slowly, allowing her to adjust to his length.

He moaned as he fully entered her, her tight walls encasing his cock in such a delightful way.

“gods, Aemma” he moaned, as he buried his head into the nape of her neck.

“move, please” she begged after a moment, her hands moving to grip his arms, as he slowly started to thrust his hips into her. He started of slowly, allowing her time to adjust, but as she started to roll her hips into his. He began to pick up his face, slowly setting a fast rhyme. His hand moving from her sides to grip the head board as he started to pound into her.

Her moans grew louder and more high pitched, her legs moving to wrap around his waist.

“keep your eyes on me” he groaned as she closed her eyes in pleasure, her legs fell from his hips, her eyes fully fixed on his as she started to reach her peak.

The eye contact was like nothing she had experienced before. His eyes were dark, possessive, and yet also filled with love. The pure amount of emotions in her eyes pushed her to competition, as she let out a high pitched squeal, her arms gripping his pack, living small scratches as she came.

Her cunt wrapped tightly around his cock, causing Aemond o let outa moan of his own as he worked her through her orgasm, before finally letting go himself, filling her with his cum.

They got little sleep that night, with scarce few minutes before being awoke once more to heated touches, her cunt stretches with his cock in more ways than she could count. She have never felt anything like it, the pleasure beyond imaginable.

As she awoke now she traced the lines of Aemond’s face gently, taking in his beauty. He was truly spectacular, all sharp lines and edges, his silver hair and purple eye.  She envied his beauty, how Valyrian he looked and how little she did.

She hoped there children would inherit his beauty and not hers. She adored the idea of carry a little Aemond.

She smiled softly as she played with his hair, only stopping when a knock was sounded on her door.

Grabbing her robe, and quickly brushing her hair she opened the door, only to face her mother.

She smiled softly as she greeted her, “mother” she said, motioning her to step inside, her mother grimacing slightly as she took in Aemond’s sleeping from. “what can I do for you?”

Her mother sighed, looking down in shame “ we are leaving…now”

“what?”

“I- we cannot be here much longer, the- we are unwelcome so we have decided it best to leave.”

“but I just got married, I thought you would stay at least a few more days”

“I know…im sorry”

Aemma scoffed, “sorry? You do not write me, show up for a few days and then leave again! You are not sorry! You just don’t want me! I doubt you ever did!” she cried in aguish.

“no.. no Aemma, dōna riña, that’s not true.” She moved towards, her reaching for her hands only to be met with Aemma’s rejection, nyke bardutan ao naenie letters, kīvin zijo.  nyke dōrī jiōraton aōhon se nyke pendagon bona se greens- alicent se aemond hid zirȳ hen ao naejot gūrogon ao hen nyke” her mother spoke, chaing to high valyrian as if to keep what she ahd to say a secret.

i wrote you many letters, i swear it. i never got yours and i think that the greens- Alicent and Aemond hid them from you to take you from me.

“daor daor, nyke ȳdra daor belive ao!”

No no, I don’t believe you!

“iksan telling se truth, ñuha jorrāelagon, emā issare torn hen nyke se kostan daor bare naejot ūndegon ziry.  eman issare vēttan ezīmagon iā issaros se kicked hen ñuha own lenton, istin henujagon”

i am telling the truth, my love, you have been torn from me and i can not bare to see it. i have been made into a stranger and kicked from my own home, i must leave.

Aemma scoffed, “nyke- nyke, aōha verdagon bē excuses muña! Aemond vestās ao would, skoro syt shouold nyke believe ao? especially skori īlē sīr adere naejot jikagon nyke qrīdrughagon?”

i-i, your making up excuses mother! Aemond said you would, why shouold i belive you? especially when you were so quick to send me away?

Her mother let out an irritated sound, “have I lost you complete, Aemma?” she asked sadly “I have been so blind, I should have come with you, should have stayed here-“ “then stay!”

“I can’t”

“I don’t understand! What have I done?” she asked, she was confused she didn’t know what she had done, why her own mother couldn’t stay, why she had left her.

“i- you have done nothing” her mother insisted.

“so you are leaving just because you do not like me? Or is it because of Aemond? You were always against our friendship, and yet you were the one who proposed we wed! you are so-“

She was cut off by Aemond, their shouting waking him from sleep, “get out!” he demanded, “all you do is upset my wife, I shall not have it!”

And her mother left, with no complaint only sad eyes and the word goodbye. The way she said it made her feel as if her mother felt like she had lost her forever, as if this was there final goodbye.

Next part

taglist

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to be added to taglist

[interstellarflare]

A Cinderella Story || Anthony Bridgerton

-PART ONE-

Summary: Have courage, and be kind. Words that you tried to live by ever since the passing of your parents. Though your step-mother and step-sisters did everything in their power to hide you and your status away from the rest of the Ton, you never expected to catch the eye of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton himself.

Authors Note: This is my first Bridgerton series! I had an absolute ball writing this, and I hope you enjoy it! There is a tag list open if anyone wishes to be kept updated for future parts. Gif by @greengableslover

‘The Prince smiled, extending his hand towards her with grace and ease.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” he asked lowly, his eyes meeting hers with a kind yet mischievous twinkle. There was something about the Prince that made her heart flutter, that made her place her hand into his and reply-‘

The sound of hurriedly approaching footsteps and a chorus of shouting caused you to stuff the book beneath your pillows, a small panic settling over you as you quickly jumped out of your rickety bed and threw the old sheets over the mattress to at least make it look as if you hadn’t been lying in it mere seconds ago.

The door to the attic swung open, violently ricochetting off the wall and with a loud ‘bang’. You flinched, a shaky breath escaping you as you turned your gaze towards the form of your stepmother, her piercing greyish-blue eyes staring intently at you as she entered. She held her head high, the permanent scowl on her features examining every little aspect of the small space with precision. Her eyes landed on the small wooden table beside your bed, narrowing on the melted candle with the wax spilling over the sides.

“You were reading again, weren’t you?” She growled, her lips pursing in annoyance. Fiddling with your hands in front of you, you shrugged your shoulders slightly. “It wasn’t all night, Lady Worthington, I swear-“

“Nonsense, I can see the candle clear as day girl!” She shouted, a look of disapproval forming on her features. You held her stare, a small sense of guilt settling in your stomach the longer your stepmother remained in the attic. With a long and annoyed huff, she brushed he black-greying hair from her shoulder, looking you up and down with a look of disgust. “Get yourself cleaned up, and once you’re done start with breakfast. My girls are hungry, we have a long day ahead of us” she ordered, gathering her deep purple skirts and storming out of the room.

Releasing a breath you weren’t aware you were holding, your shoulders slumped in relief. You looked down at yourself and sighed, Lady Worthington was right. The clothes you wore currently were nothing but rags, and your day clothes weren’t much better. They were either oversized or too small, but you made do with the worn black and white maids dresses you were given. After getting changed and tying your hair back with a small piece of ribbon, you quickly skipped downstairs and into the kitchen.

You could hear Lady Worthington and her daughters cackling manically in the dining room, discussing their plans for the day, and how excited they were to be invited to Lady Danbury’s ball. Lady Danbury’s ball was one of the highlights of the season, or…so you had heard anyway. It had been a long time since you had seen the dear woman, you believed the last time you held conversation with her was when you were but a child. Your father, just after the loss of your mother, had taken you to one of Lady Danbury’s balls after deciding that leaving you at home would have been unwise at this grief-stricken time.

You remembered the beautiful dresses, the beautiful debutants who smiled and waved at your curious gaze. The kind bachelors who greeted you with a dance. And a young boy, hiding behind his father’s legs, his eyes following you wherever you went. Lady Danbury had been most gracious, you remember. A close friend of your mothers, almost like an aunt to you. But when Lady Worthington came into the picture and had taken control of your father’s inheritance after his passing, you were practically forgotten and hidden away from the ton. A part of you missed it, though you weren’t envious of today’s debutants desperately seeking husbands. Lady Worthington was perhaps one of the most persistent mothers out there, aside from Lady Featherington you hear.

This would be the third season that your stepsisters, Elizabeth and Mary Worthington, would participate in. They very much enjoyed flaunting themselves before the ton, given the state of their rooms with delicate and luxurious dresses and jewellery thrown about. They did not hide their wealth, rather your father’s wealth, that their mother had inherited, and bought the fanciest dresses money could buy. It had almost worked one season, Colin Bridgerton had visited to call on Elizabeth. But upon seeing how lavishly she lived, and how horribly she had treated you upon her request for tea for the two of them, the third-eldest Bridgerton hadn’t called again.

She changed somewhat after that, you recalled. She didn’t find much enjoyment in gorgeous dresses or glittering diamonds. She didn’t speak much to you or her mother anymore either, but Mary was her confidant. Sometimes she would glance at you, a look of guilt on her face, but it briefly passed whenever her sister or mother made some snide comment about your presence.

Preparing breakfast was easily done. Keeping a portion for yourself on a separate plate, you carried the three other plates into the dining room with practiced ease. Mary squealed with delight, snatching one of the plates from your arm and almost knocking the others out of your grasp in the process. “Oh thank goodness, I’m starved!” she exclaimed, hastily digging in as if she hadn’t eaten in days. You handed a plate to Elizabeth, who seemed to nod slightly as you placed the plate before her. Lady Worthington however, merely sneered as you placed her plate on the table.

You excused yourself from the room and retreated into the kitchen, beginning to eat your portion of the remaining food whilst listening to their gossip quietly. They weren’t quiet by any means, though you supposed that it was in their nature to be loud and obnoxious.

“Mother, did you hear! I heard from Cressida that apparently Lord Bridgerton is looking for a wife this season!” Mary exclaimed, her words muffled likely by the food in her mouth. You heard Elizabeth sigh heavily “I won’t believe it until Lady Whisteldown writes about it-“

“Nonsense!” Lady Worthington cried, interrupting her daughter with a squeal, “If the rumour is true than we are going to take every advantage we can get. The two of you are going to do your damned best get his attention-“

“And what if we don’t, mother? What then?” Elizabeth spoke quietly, almost timidly. You heard Lady Worthington scoff “Oh, you will. We are going out as soon as possible to find you both new dresses for the ball tonight”.

“Oh mother, how exciting!” Mary cried, you could hear the chair scrape harshly against the wooden floorboards as she abruptly stood up from her seat, “We are going to be the most beautiful women at the Ball!”

“Y/N! Help my daughters get dressed! We will be heading out shortly, and make sure that the horses are prepared!” Lady Worthington shouted, the sound of her shrill cry causing a sense of panic to surge through you.

Coughing as you chocked on your food, you quickly wiped your mouth and fixed your skirts. “Yes, right away!” You called back, sighing heavily as you rushed back upstairs. Upon entering Mary’s room, your shoulders slumped in defeat. Clothes lay on almost every inch of the floor, dresses, undergarments, jewellery. This was going to be a tough morning.

Tag List:

@ladybirdbeetle7 @sweetsourpus @in-deans-arms @blackthorngirl @kee-0-kee

@sometimesminsan @prawntoastsworld @scoopsahoyspidey @darkness-falls-xo

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@esquivelbianca @fanfictioncafe @hjgdhghoe @sillynilly27

[garfunklefield]

What about a Gojo prince x a princess reader and its love at first sight? Then maybe they have some breeding-kink related sex, and perhaps they say I love you?

Whimper Like a Prince!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!princess!reader/prince!Satoru Gojo Warnings: perverted gojo, heavy breeding kink, arranged marriage, creampie, p in v sex, pussy eating, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, L bomb, gojo will whimper trust, love at first sight, porn with plot or should I say plot with porn :), bathroom masturbation, gojo cums in his pants Word count: 4591 DESC:You and your new husband procreate

Back at it again with the subby gojo

Satoru never thought of himself as a pervert. In fact, he considered himself basically asexual, from how no one had ever interested him. No woman or man ever caught his attention, not even a little bit. There had to be something wrong with him, his parents thought so. They deliberated for days before going to their son and telling him about you. You were supposed to be different. You were supposed to be the perfect woman to marry into the Gojo clan. And you were the one they had signed him off to be married to. 

“Seriously? Not even in a say in my own wedding?” The Prince groaned, throwing his head back and letting white locks flow across his forehead. It was a pain to have to share a room with someone. Become married. All of it. It was a pain! He didn’t want to know anyone, he didn’t want to know you. He couldn't care less if it offended his parents or hurt your feelings; He didn’t want to do it. 

His life was fine! He could do whatever he wanted without a woman bossing him around. This would ruin it. This would make everything all wrong. Satoru said nothing else as his parents continued to lecture about how this would be good for him, a change of pace. How you were calm and reserved and perfect. All that bullshit he was tired of hearing. He didn’t care how perfect or beautiful you were, he didn’t want you. So he declined to see your photos and got up, strolling out of the common room and into one of the hallways. 

What's worse is they didn’t tell him that when he woke up the next morning and got dressed in the white suit they had laid out for him, Satoru was going to be wed. It was a pure white suit, white coat, and white undershirt, paired with white shoes and pants. It was a bit weird, making him look paler than he actually was. He looked like a demon, staring at his own blue eyes in his reflection. Who was that man? Who was the beast before him who was watching with a hungry gaze? A beast who longed to be forever alone. Satoru wasn’t scared of intimacy but he sure as hell didn’t like it. Maybe he avoided it as much as possible, that wasn’t wrong, was it? He didn’t need to be intimate with anyone as long as he had a say in it. So safe to say, he was a virgin. Unless you count fooling around with his best friend, which he didn’t. 

One maid knocked on his door and spoke quietly, saying his parents requested to meet him in the outdoor corridor. Gojo nodded and silently rolled his eyes, praying it wasn’t for scheduling the wedding. What he didn’t know was he was walking into his own wedding. He didn’t pay attention to the loud fanfare outside, it was probably just one of his parent's parties he was being forced to make an appearance at. Whatever, it wasn’t like it affected him in any way to say hi to a few guests. Then he could retreat into his room and hide underneath a blanket until the world disappeared. 

“Toru, honey, in here!” His mother, the queen, called out from a column that lined the huge archway, leading outside. He perked up at the sound of his mother's voice and followed it closely. Although it was hard to hear from all the music and noise, he managed to find her. She was in a long white gown, which didn’t catch him off guard, it was the scene behind her. A wedding. His wedding. Half of the seats were people wearing white, signaling his side of the family. Then the other half wore red, signaling yours. It made sense, his kingdom's colors were blue and white to symbolize a Gojo’s typical eye and hair color. 

His mouth twitched on the edge and slowly hung open, gaping at the scene, “Mom… are you fucking with me right now?” Satoru turned to look at her, with his eyes widening in a newfound rage. He was getting married now!? Now!!! In front of all these people! Oh but the mysterious and perfect you was nowhere to be seen. 

“Now, now… don’t give me that. It’s for the better,” she smiled reassuringly and attempted to put a hand on her son's shoulder blade, to calm him. Instead, he shrugged out of her grasp with a grumble and straightened his suit jacket. There had to be a way to get out of this. There had to be a way to get out of all of this. 

“Introducing!!!” A loud man shouted from a balcony overtop Satoru and his mother, “The crowned prince, Satoru Gojo, and the Queen!” A large spotlight flickered over to the both of them, stopping him in his tracks as he attempted to leave. He stared into the light like a deer caught in headlights unsure what to do. He was fucked. He was totally and utterly fucked. 

He felt his mother nudge his side, with a tense and tight grin upon her frail lips, “You have five seconds to stand straight before I slap you Satoru,” she spoke between her smile. Her son did as he was told and straightened his posture, turning on the perfect mask of a prince who wanted to get married. His eyes turned kind and his smile flashed wide. He looked like the perfect prince about to be wed to some nobody. 

His mother grabbed his hand and pulled him down the aisle, smiling and waving to everyone as she did so. Satoru refused to truly make eye contact with anyone, he didn’t want to exist. He wanted to pretend this was all some fucked up dream he was going to awaken from at any moment. Just getting pinched and sent back into bed was all he wanted. The Queen let go of his hand and signaled him to go on further, standing on the pedestal designated for the two truly participating in this wedding. He didn’t look as the loud man cleared his throat and introduced you by your name, he didn’t care to learn it. But something took over Satoru, maybe it was curiosity or just pure boredom, but he looked over at you. 

And his … his heart stopped. 

You were purely and utterly perfect in every shape of the word. Your face was adorned with jewels and makeup from your homeland, all red. Your hair was the same fiery red, and put up into an intricate style. But he wasn’t looking at that. Your face, your beautiful face. It was unique and something he’d never seen before. Features, that were all different from those of him and his family. Fuck … he liked it a lot. The way your lips jutted out in a regular stance, painted with a deep crimson. Then his eyes trailed down to your chest. 

Satoru never thought of himself as a pervert … until he met you. Your breasts were thick and filled with fat, hanging perfectly against your body. They perked up against your dress in a way that couldn’t have been natural, maybe by a bra of some kind that he couldn’t see. Your dress collar went low, exposing the skin between your breasts. There was something about him he wanted to squeeze and palm until you couldn’t take it. He wanted to rip apart your dress and taste your sweet nipples, feeling you grow wet under his touch. This sudden lust was becoming too much and it didn’t help he took in the rest of your figure. Your stomach lightly jutted out against your tight dress, followed by thick love handles and hips. He caught himself salivating just at the thought of pressing you against the wall and becoming suffocated by the plush, soft skin of your thighs. 

He turned away from staring at you and instead began to worry about the problem brewing in his pants. A very apparent and very erect problem. He was straining against his tight boxers and even tighter slacks, desperately aching for release. He wanted to rip apart his pants and touch himself while watching you stare at him indifferently. He loved it, fuck, he loved you. Was that possible? Was he just so overcome with lust it was blurring the lines of love? Well, he had never felt love before, so maybe it was the same as lust!

You approached him, with an older man on your left. He let go of your hand and let you step onto the pedestal yourself, coming face to face with your future husband. He couldn’t even feign disinterest or boredom, being this close to you was agony. Satoru’s body was purely on fire and he needed you to put it out with your touch. He stared at you, waiting for something to happen. The officiant began to speak her speech, but he heard nothing. All he could do was stare into your wide eyes as you stared into his. Did you feel the same thing as him? Were your souls becoming intertwined with every passing second, or was it just him?

“...Do you take Satoru Gojo to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The officiant asked you, turning your attention away from your future husband. You looked at her, then at Satoru.

Biting your bottom lip, you nodded, “I do.” Your voice. Your fucking voice. He was going to cum in his pants. Your voice was angelic, pure gold sliding into his senses. It was beautiful, you were beautiful! Everything about you was absolutely beautiful.  

“Satoru Gojo do-” The officiant began but she was cut off by Satoru’s abrupt, “I do.” 

Your eyes widened at the sight. He couldn’t tell what you were thinking but he didn’t care about that. He wanted to touch you so bad it was starting to hurt him and his cock. He was throbbing and aching for release, aching for you to release him from these chains. All you had to do was just touch his hand or his arm, and he’d find peace. 

“By the power vested in me by the kingdom, I pronounce you two man and wife. You may now kiss the bride,” she cleared her throat, stepping back and motioning to the newlywed couple. Satoru’s heart jumped from his chest to his throat. Kissing? They were going to kiss? Oh no. That was bad. That was going to be very bad. 

He stared at the officiant to you, pressing his lips in a thin line. Well… she did say kiss. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Satoru quickly began to convince himself he’d be fine, which was a mistake. He stepped forward and put two hands against your cheeks, inhaling to take in your warmth. You were the living embodiment of perfection, the soul of beauty, and the goddess of his life. Who cares if you just met two minutes ago?! Love at first sight can exist! Without saying anything else, he gave you a look which you nodded to, signaling you were ready for the kiss. 

Then your two souls became one and your lips pressed together. Annddd he came in his pants. Satoru didn’t mean for it to happen but the pleasure of being so close to you, smelling your scent, and feeling your body warmth. It felt so good, he let himself slip and found himself cumming into his pants from the sensation. Your lips were so soft and glossed up, molding against his in a very G-rated kiss. Although, he wished for more. He wanted to taste your tongue so badly. You pulled away first, staring at him. His face was red with flushed bits of pink scattering his hazy cheeks. His lips were delicately traced with gloss, and his eyes were fogged over. Small panting breaths came out of him as you both looked at each other.

“Did you…” You mumbled, nodding your head in the direction of his pants. 

“...Nu-uh…” Satoru whispered back, pulling back completely and clearing his throat, “BRB for normal reasons now,” he flashed his mother a winning smile and then promptly walked off the podium. It didn’t really matter, as the families had begun to mingle. So no one noticed him slipping out and wandering back to one of the many guest bathrooms in the palace. You watched him walk away with a different look in your eye that he didn’t have time to dissect. 

Satoru had one goal in the bathroom: clean his underwear and not take too long. He dropped his pants and stared at himself in the mirror, he looked like a complete mess. Nothing had ever made him cum like that. Sure he never felt attraction to people but he was a guy! Morning wood is a real issue. He let out a sigh and assessed the damage, pulling off his pants and underwear to begin to properly clean it. But something else took over him as he pulled out a roll of toilet paper. He could just fuck himself to the thought of you in here and no one would know. He could touch himself and think about how you felt against his touch, your plump skin, and your warm lips. 

A hand trailed from the toilet paper down to his growing and twitching cock. It was aching to be touched. His palm covered the tip and then sank, snaking around the shaft. With a small and gentle motion, he began to rub himself off. His hand didn’t feel as good as he knew yours would. Something about your small hands against his cock, taking him and feeling him in the ways he liked. Then your pretty mouth, gagging on his dick. He could practically feel your lips sucking his tip, and your tongue trailing around his urethra hole. It was too much for him and he had just begun to jack off, quickly cumming into his hand. It was a quick wave of pleasure that ran up his length and shot out his tip, into his hand. Satoru let out a shaky moan and kept stroking himself, cumming against the pleasure. 

Fuck he needed you so bad. 

Satoru had no idea you’d be waiting in his room after he got out of the bathroom. His underwear was completely past saving and he needed to change into something less cum filled. When he saw you seated on his bed, two arms crossed against your breasts he gasped. Two brows raised in confusion furrowed a bit, “Wh… Why are you in here?” 

“Did you cum in your pants?” You raised an eyebrow at him, watching him with your same blank stare. He blinked a few times. Oh! So you did notice more than he thought! 

He let out a small laugh and closed the door behind him, locking it subtly as he did so, “Whaaat? Why’d you say that?” 

“I heard you moan when we kissed. You got all … flustered,” you explained, motioning with your hands. As you moved, your breasts bounced against your skin, exposing them to Satoru’s perverted gaze. He was half paying attention and mainly salivating. He wanted to rub his swollen cock on your nipple and feel it harden, then fuck your tits until he came all over them. Then he wanted to grab them until you couldn’t bear it from sensitivity. 

“Why are you in here?” He asked, a low tone taking hold of his voice. You both were married now. It wouldn’t hurt to get more acquainted, would it? And it wouldn’t hurt to be more bold now, would it? Satoru began to approach you, kicking off his shoes and pulling at his white tie, his eyes on you like a predator on his innocent prey. 

“I… wanted to ask if you were okay,” your eyes met his and you bit your bottom lip. Fuck… just like that. He wanted you to bite your lip as he went down on you and fucked your tight cunt with his tongue. He wanted you to cross your eyes as he pumped you full of his kids, of the next generation. God, just the thought began to make him hard all over again. 

“Then why’re you on my bed?” He tilted his head, shrugging off his suit jacket and letting it hit the ground. You swallowed and moved both hands from your sides to rest behind you, stretching yourself back a bit. All for him, huh? He didn’t know you were a little tease. 

“Satoru,” you began but your breath caught in your throat when he was too close. He stood between your slightly spread legs, using his own knee to spread yours a bit more. The tension was so thick he could practically cut it with a knife. He needed you so bad, to run his hands along your fat skin and taste the wetness leaking from your cunt. He knew you were wet, you had to be. There was no way you’d be in this position and not be even the littlest bit aroused. He was aroused, it was obvious from the boner in his pants. 

He breathed out your name and sunk onto his knees, “If you don’t stop me in five seconds, I’m continuing,” one hand ran up your thigh, up your stomach and grabbed hold of your panties, “One,” he pulled at the hem of your underwear, “Two,” he pulled it down your thighs with one hand, “Three” it was down to your ankles, “Four” your dress was pushed up past your hips, “Five,” his mouth was face to face with your soaked pussy. You were gorgeous, perfect flaps waiting to be spread open by his mouth. 

“Sa..” You went to begin but his mouth was on your spot. You weren’t going to stop him anyway. Two fists balled up against the sheets and you felt him press a hand on your stomach, signaling you should lay down. Your legs found themselves thrown up against his shoulders, so he could be even closer to your wetness. Two hands suctioned against your hips and he did his magic. For someone who had never eaten pussy he was surprisingly good at it, lapping at you like you were the best meal he’s ever had. You tasted like savory heaven, something he’d never want to give up. His tongue rolled around your cunt for a few moments before he latched onto your sweet cunt, sucking like he never had before. He felt you tense up, rolling your hips to the sensation, and he knew he had found the perfect spot to please you. 

“Pl.. f-f-fuck… pleas- hah.. Mmm… please,” you whimpered, gasping and arching your back to the sensation. He wanted you to cum just had he had several times before. Satoru pulled his face back from your pussy, his chin glistening with your wetness, and pulled one hand from your hip. He needed to make you cum any way he could, and he’d heard that fingering made women feel pretty good. With ease, he sunk digit after digit inside of you, filling you up with three fingers. You felt so warm and plush, sticky, and … fuck warm. 

“What a whore, huh? You take all my fingers…” Gojo mumbled, leaning forward and pressing his mouth on your clit. He pushed his fingers in then out, and in then out, in a rhythmic dance to stimulate your senses. He felt your spongey walls clench around him when he hit your perfect spot and kept going, making sure to abuse it as best he could. His mouth helped too, licking your juices up as if there was no tomorrow, in his mind there wouldn’t be. He had to make the best of here and now as if he’d never get this chance again. 

He could tell you were close when your noises got louder, and your voice reached a higher octave. You moaned and groaned his name, begging to release all over his face. And when you did, you did something a bit unexpected. You squirted. Your body tensed and you rolled your hips a few times, going silent before a loud moan escaped your lips. Satoru didn’t stop and didn’t stop when he felt you cum all over him. It sprayed over his face, just getting a bit of his chin and neck but he didn’t care. Fuck, he thought it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen! 

Satoru pulled back and grinned, “I’m gonna fuck you until I can’t cum anymore, kay?” He didn’t wait for an answer, bringing you up further on the bed by your arms then promptly pouncing on you. You gasped when his mouth assaulted yours in a sloppy R-rated kiss. His tongue lapped yours and tased your saliva, moaning for more. It felt so good, building a burning sensation deep in his stomach. He needed to get off, and he needed to get off now. You heard him moan and whine into the kiss as he did exactly what he wanted to and touched your full breasts. He squeezed and palmed the skin just to hear you moan and whimper that it was too sensitive. That’s what made him strain more against his pants. 

He sat up and took off his pants, well attempted to. Satoru struggled against his belt, to the point where you had to sit up and help him. You cleared your throat and pulled off the belt, beginning to unbutton his pants, “So… did you also learn about the marriage yesterday?”

The white-haired male let out a lust-filled laugh and nodded, “Didn’t know it was happening today, though.” Once his pants were unbuttoned he shimmied out of them and his boxers, kicking them to the side and getting right back on top of you, “Mm…” he moaned against your mouth as he brought you back into a kiss, “I’m gonna fuck you till you’re swelling with my kid,” you moaned into the kiss when he said that, joining him in filling the room with your joint noises. 

Satoru pulled back and looked down at his cock. He was throbbing and leaked precum onto the sheets, in between your spread legs. It didn’t take him long before he grabbed the base of his cock and stroked it a few times, “You wanna be bred?” He asked, his voice almost hoarse as he spoke. 

“Mhm,” you cried out, whining like a little sub bitch. You reached out to grab his hand, “Just fuck me already…” You didn’t have to tell him twice. He continued to slowly stroke his cock as he lined it up with your folds, pressing the tip into your cunt just to see your reaction. You were so warm he had to stop himself from cumming right away, but he stayed strong and pushed in. Fuck, a whimper escaped his mouth and he leaned down to kiss you again. The kiss was desperate and messy, just aching to relieve the burning desires swelling in his body. It was electric how he felt about you in that moment, he needed you so bad it hurt. He didn’t just want to fuck you, he wanted to live in your ribcage like a little parasite.

He pulled back, then thrust in again, “F-hah.. Shit.. mm-m fu..fuck,” he threw his head back at the pleasure rising up his cock. He’d never get this kind of sensation from just simply fucking himself. Sure, fucking himself to the thought of you felt good, but this was on a whole other level of pleasure. You were warm like a sauna and he wanted to just thrust in you until you couldn’t walk, until you were full of his cum. So he began, thrusting in you like you were nothing more than a sex object. You gasped and pressed yourself against the mattress, before arching your back and rolling your hips as you did when he reached your pleasurable spot. You both were so sensitive, Satoru more so from the fact he had already cum twice, that he came within seconds of penetrating you. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop when you cried out and came for the second time, or if he was feeling too stimulated, he wanted you full. He wanted to watch you bulge from his cum and carry his kids. 

“F-fuck… I’m gonna.. Mm- fill you.. Hah.. with my- mm.. Kids,” he groaned, looking down at your perfect form. Satoru buried his head in the crook of your neck and bit down as the pleasure was getting to be too much. It was all-consuming, filling his whole body and all of his senses. He could feel his body jerking and spontaneously moving with every jolt of ecstasy. You were the same, crying out and wrapping your arms around his neck. He was balls deep in your wetness, taking in your noises and the plapping from both of your bodies together in pure bliss. He felt himself spill over again into your pussy, cumming to the point where it was beginning to hurt. But he didn’t want to stop, even though his dick was starting to become numb. It almost tickled at first when he kept thrusting through the sensitivity, but then it started feeling good again. So good he couldn’t help but bite even harder on your neck. You were talking it like the good slut you were, soaking up his cum and begging mindlessly for more.

Satoru gasped and kept thrusting, even though he was beginning to realize you might’ve milked him dry. He let out a whimper and pulled his head back to look at your dazed expression. Your makeup was smeared, mascara pooling at your eyes and lipstick against your cheek. He didn’t care, you were still gorgeous. 

So he was surprised when he felt himself cum again and he blurted out, “I ..f- mmshit.. F-.. love… you.. Iloveyouiloveyou.” 

His dick was so tender he was beginning to lose feeling in every motion, so his thrusts began to slow to a stop. He pulled himself off of your sweet cunt and plopped down beside you, taking in gasps of air as if he was going to die at any minute. Now he knew why men were addicted to sex. Sex was amazing! Marriage was amazing! How could he have dismissed it so early on without even giving it a try? If this was how sex and marriage truly were, he would’ve done this such a long time ago! 

“You… love me?” You murmured, turning your head to look at your husband. Gojo looked back at you with wide eyes full of … well tiredness and confusion. He was so out of it that he didn’t even process he had said it until you pointed it out. A few silent moments passed as he tried to think of what to do. Well shit, now he might not have that amazing explosive sex anymore. 

“I love you too… I think. It’s weird, I felt like I did when I first saw you,” you continued, turning on your side to watch him with delicate eyes. You … also loved him? If he wasn’t sore and numb in his dick at the same time he would’ve fucked you again. 

Satoru let out a breathless laugh and outstretched one of his arms to rest on your waist, “Yeah, me too.”

[starlightdreaming]

100 FOLLOWER SPECIALL :DD (the voices won.)

Lucifer x Slime! Bunny! Reader! NSFW!!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel!

Content Warning: (SUPER LONG ASS SMUT) Heat cycles, Body worship, Biting, Slime(Everywhere), PredatorNPrey kink(?), Breeding kink, Belly bulge, Dacryphillia, Oral (received) (THE MF EATS U OUT), Overstimulation, Lucifer’s Tail (erm-), BDSM (like all of them? I dunno…), Corruption Kink. (I don’t know what all the kinks are spare ya gal.) (Nothing is proofread either.)

READER BASED OFF MY PERSONA

SO ITS SELF INSERT??? Yeah. I’m down bad for this man, no shame.

Synopsis: You were a maid that worked at Lucifer’s mansion, you were his favorite too! so what happens when you are in one of your heat cycles? >:]

this stories delusions is brought to you by:

(optional but not really recommended)

You were humming softly as you made breakfast for your majesty. It was a daily routine for you to bring him breakfast to his bed, his usual being pancakes with a touch of cinnamon and apples.

At first when you were accepted to his abode to work, all you did was clean, he never batted an eye at you as you wandered the halls to sweep off dust on every corner of his walls, you didn’t mind it since you got to mind your business all you wanted, no pressure applied, even when you had traded your soul to the king to even have this job, it was all the much better when he didn’t ask of anything from you.

One day, his butler was sick, leaving you to cooking, anyone could have done it but if it wasn’t to the kings liking, they could have lost their jobs- at least what the maids would say. So they threw the task at you, the newbie.

It wasn’t that worrying of a task since you were always cooking for your siblings when you were alive, you always made exquisite dishes for your brothers and sisters to enjoy, oh how you missed those days of making hearty meals for them. So when you had the chance to make something for someone now? You were going all out.

You were thrown into the kitchen by the other maids, you were more excited than bothered by their force, you began making the pancake batter, adding a bit of cinnamon and apples into the mix, you saw your king always wore an apple on his hat so you assumed he liked apples. You made a stack of four fluffy pancakes, adding syrup on it before exploring the kitchen, trying to find fruits and such to add onto the meal to make it more pleasing to enjoy, to eat and to look at.

When you finished, you made him morning coffee, since you didn’t know what his coffee preferences were, you hoped your favorite blend would better suffice than taking a wild guess. You put the meal and drink onto the tray table, leaving the kitchen to walk to your masters room, careful as to not drop the meal you had put your heart and ‘soul’ into. You were so focused into what you were making

Before you entered his room, you knocked, awaiting his “come in.” to enter his room. You saw he sat at his work desk, uninterested to turn and look at you, you weren’t sure what to do next, you never really ever got to see the king this close, nor enter his rooms for that fact. You were just tasked to clean the halls, thats it.

You nervously walk up to his side, putting down the plate and coffee on to his work desk, “Your meal, your majesty.” You bowed, awaiting for him to dismiss you but when he heard your unfamiliar voice, he turned to you, seeing your uniform was covered in pancake mix that had already dried on your maid dress, you smiled at him nervously as he looked at your semi-transparent slime body, “Where is my butler?” he asked, “he’s the one that’s supposed to make me breakfast.” Your heart seemed to chip away, sensing that he might not like the breakfast you made him, he didn’t even look at it, “He is sick, your highness,” you explained, gripping the tray tightly in more nervousness, “I was tasked to make your meals today.” you say, putting up a facade to hide how much you were internally screaming.

“I see,” He says, looking back to his work, “dismissed.” he says as he waved you off, making your heart chip again, you were hoping to see his reaction to how much effort you had just made into the meal but seeing as you’re just a lowly maid in his home, it made sense he didn’t expect much from you.

You left the room without a second glance, not seeing how he had looked at you before looking at the pancakes.

Through the rest of your day, it was all normal. Nothing was reported to you and you weren’t tasked with the rest of the days cooking which made you confirm in your head that maybe he wasn’t satisfied with your cooking skills. It hurt to accept but all that mattered was you got to keep your job at least.

It wasn’t until the next day that whilst you were wiping down windows in the hall, Lucifers personal butler had walked up to you, tasking you again to make the same breakfast you had done the day before, You smiled as you got up and went to the kitchen again, leaving your main duties behind, all your doubts from yesterday vanished as you replicated the meal, going back to his room with a smile, “Your meal, your majesty.” You bowed to him, before putting the meal on his desk once again.

He looked at you this time, making your heart stop for a moment, “Where did you get your cooking skills?” he asked, his attention completely on you, your ears lie back in shyness, “Oh- well, I was self taught.” You say as you held onto the tray, resting it under your fingers, “How come your skills have gone unnoticed?” He says, pulling the plate toward him, grabbing his silverware to cut through the ‘cake to take a bite, you smiled gently as your heart fluttered from joy, “I applied to just clean, there wasn’t any spot open for cooking.” you explained as you swayed side to side in one spot, you couldn’t contain your excitement and joy as he ate your meal, “How about you become one now? Would you like that?” He offered before taking another bite, making you bring the tray to your chest, “really? you mean that?” You smiled, your ears perking as they held up close together as you leaned toward his desk slightly, “of course, why wouldn’t I? You can start anytime you want.” He smiled at you, you jumping in joy, “thank you so much, your majesty! I can make lunch later today! you won’t be disappointed!” You say as you slightly began to run out of his room, forgetting your formality, “oh, uh-“ you realized, before quickly bowing to him and leaving his room, slightly embarrassed.

Ever since that day, you had always made his meals.

Over time, you had slowly made a bond with him, becoming his favorite maid and his favorite chef, it wasn’t long ‘til he made you his personal butler, you waking him up for the day and being at his side almost 24/7 practically.

You didn’t even need to knock anymore as you busted his door open everyday with passion and enthusiasm, “Rise and shine, Lulu!” You would call him, waking him from his slumber, unbothered from how much energy you radiated, he’d sit up as you placed a tray his bed, making your usual for him, he smiled every time you sat on his bed further from him, talking about how your day went or rambled on about your past life on earth, he had found out you ended up killing your parents from how they neglected and abused you and your siblings, you had told your siblings that they left for good, nothing else. It was a surprise to him but it was understandable from your living conditions, he loved just listening to you, day in and day out though, whatever topic it may have been, he wasn’t listening to what you would tell him but more focused on your voice, after six years of this daily routine, it wasn’t long until he would ponder what you would sound underneath him, how you would writhe and whimper to his touch.

He had shook the thoughts at first but the more he saw you in his day to day life, those thoughts always bubbled and spilled out the more he tried to bottle them up, they only got worse when you would be gone for two weeks or so, knowing you as a bunny hybrid, whenever you were having a heat cycle coming or running, your slime would often secrete more off your body, dripping. One time it had gotten so bad, a blob of your slime just went splat on the floor in Lucifer’s room, right in front of him.

You had cleaned it with a bunch of spewed apologies, your face flustered and gaze full of lust, you left the room in a hurry. Leaving Lucifer dumbfounded. To him, that gaze you gave him with lust and tears in your eyes, riled something in him. When you were gone for two weeks after that, his mind was just thinking about that moment and you and only you, those thoughts he tried so hard to brush off were flooding his mind during your absence, he knows he could just go see you and help you and he wanted to do just that more than anything, but he refused to, he didn’t want to take advantage of you in any sort of way, he’d rather fall from the Heavens a million times than ever force his way onto you, you meant too much to him, his heart couldn’t bare how much he loved you.

When you came back from your cycles, you were back with your usual bright, loud and enthusiastic demeanor, your slime body reduced back to normal to being jelly like than melting-ish, and droopy. Whenever you came back, his mind would never settle down, his eyes would always trail at every curve of your body when you weren’t looking, you were so mesmerizing in his eyes, every flaw was a grace of beauty to him, he loved every moment with you, even when you sat and did your own thing while he focused on his work, you just being there was just enough comfort for him to settle down in place and do his job before finishing for the day and spending it with you.

At that point, he saw you as your own person, not just some maid that wandered his ‘castle’. Sometimes when you look at him with doe eyes, he couldn’t help but look away, you had him under such a trance, you didn’t even know how much he was wrapped around your finger. Whenever you wanted or requested something, you’d get it instantly, no questions asked, whenever you smile at something or him, his heart flutters, craving more of that smile, he loved when you praised him, comforted him or was there for whatever reason at all, his stomach always felt butterflies, it was always bad whenever you accidentally brushed touches without you noticing, he craved your touches so much, he always tried to find ways to have contact with you, even if it meant asking you to groom his wings. Worst and best decision of his life.

This man was such a mess for you, he’d even wake up from dirty dreams about you, flustered and flushed, panting heavily as if he sat up quickly in the late nights or early mornings, the tent in his pants were always visible during these dream incidents, it was happening way more then often that when he woke up this morning, he woke up gripping and clawing the bed sheets, his horns and tail displayed as he growls lowly, he was panting heavily as he just began to cry in frustration, it wasn’t long until you busted the door open, making him jump out of his thoughts, “rise and shine- oh! you’re already awake.” you say before realizing he was out in his demon form, he looked away from you, noticing that your body was secreting slime again, knowing what time it was for you, “are you okay? what happened?” You ask with concern closing his door, expecting him to have another rant about his ‘nightmares’ he claims to have, more and more.

You sat his meal in front of him, you sitting close as he kept his gaze away fron you, hoping you didn’t notice the dry tears he tried to wipe away, “Oh, Lulu, are you crying?” You ask, knowing he only avoids your gaze when he doesn’t want you to something. He ignored you when you asked, making you slightly upset he won’t talk to you, you cupped his face, making him turn to you, “look at me, Lulu,” You said softly to him, “was it another nightmare?” you asked, his eyes widened as he blushed lightly from how close you were to him, he nodded quietly, feeling flustered from his thoughts of you, “Oh, Lulu.” You swooned, bringing his face to your chest, holding him lovingly, he only blushed harder as your body produced more, slime was now on his face, your scent not going unnoticed as you smelled like a mixture of sweets.

When you pulled away, you hands still holding his face, you saw your slime was now on his face and you back your hands away from him in shock, “oh my goodness I’m so sorry-“ you said, trying to sit up, only to somehow drop his tray of food onto the ground making you more embarrassed, “Oh- oh my stars, I’ll get something to clean that! I’ll be right back!” You stuttered, leaving the room quickly as Lucifer frog blinked, processing what just happened in the span of ten seconds.

He licked his face clean, forgetting it was your slime and not his food that was all over his face, he honestly expected to gag in distastes but his thoughts immediately ran wild again when he realized how fucking sweet your secretions were, it was one lick after another before his face was clean and he was craving more. Although you were bringing him more breakfast for him to eat, he didn’t want to eat what you had to offer, no. He wanted you. With a snap of his fingers, the mess you left was gone, the lights were off and he was missing from his bed.

You entered the room, cursing yourself under your breath for forgetting what time it was for you, “Lulu, I’m-“ you tried to apologize again, only to see the room was dark and he was gone, “Lulu?” you called for him again, trying to turn on the lights, only for it to not turn on, you put the new tray of food on his nightstand before looking around his room for him, noticing the mess you made was now gone.

“Lulu? Where’d you go?” You asked worriedly, before you felt something drop on your head, it felt like a droplet of water, you looked up to see Lucifer hanging upside down as he stared at you with eyes full of desperation and lust, “L-Lulu?” you asked, a little worry now in your voice as your legs clanged together from the heat in your core, seeing how hot he was upside down, his full demon form out and his tail swaying down towards you left and right.

“Do you know how sweet you taste, my dear?” Lucifer asked, tilting his head, “Wh-what?” You asked a little confused. “Your slime,” he says, jumping down from the ceiling as his eyes glowed in the dark, his eyes glinting like a wolf stalking its prey, you stepped back as he began to walk closer to you, you didn’t even realize you were walking back towards the bed as both of your eyes stayed locked with one another, “The slime you secrete is so fucking delicious,” he growls as he claws the bed with both hands, you in-between him.

Your legs closed together more as you rubbed them together for friction, your maid dress sticking to your slimy skin, you whimpered softly from desperation as he leaned closer to your face, eyes never adverting, “christ, you have no idea what you do to me, dearest.” he whispers, growling under his breath as he tried his best to resist ravishing you then and there.

“What do you mean, Lulu?” You whispered as well, leaning toward his face, lips brushing from the desire and cravings of one another, “I love you, Y/n, so so much,” he confesses desperately, his eyes gazing to your lips before looking back at you, “Please, let me taste you again, please, please.” he begs, leaning more into your touch, when you cupped his face again, you falling back into his bed, an arm keeping you up, “Luci..” You say softly, “I never thought would ever love me.” You confess as well, “Why is that?” He asks, his heart chipping that you think that, “well, I’m a maid, I thought that was all I was going to be.” you say, looking away from him, sadness pooling your eyes as he leaned more into you, “don’t say that, love,” he whisper shouts as he brings a finger under your chin to make you look back at him, “I love you so much, darling, please let me show you that I do.” He begs, your eyes looked into his, his eyes sparkling from genuine, both your heads leaning into to touch as you closed your eyes, “okay..” you smile before you both leaned in to each other, kissing slowly but passionately, he leaned into the kiss more desperately, you leaning into him as well, making the kiss deeper.

You moaned in the kiss, the feelings you hid away for your king, blossoming out your chest. You pulled away panting, breathing for air as Lucifer looks at you dazed, you smile before grabbing his collar with both your hands, bringing him down with you onto the bed, locking lips again but more desperately than the last. You trailed your hands to his hair, wrapping one arm around his neck as you intertwined your fingers into his locks, brushing them. You pulled away again, opening your mouth a gap to let Lucifer have a taste of you, he didn’t hesitate as he stuck his tongue into your cavern, exploring all of your mouth as he tasted you, a growl rumbled from his chest as he desperately kissed you roughly.

You moaned through the make out session as you felt his body push down between your legs, your layers of clothes not giving you the friction you desperately wanted, making you buck your hips up to his body as well, “ffuck- don’t do that, love.” he warned, pulling his lips away from yours as he whined desperately, a trail of saliva connecting you both.

You cupped his face as you brought him back to your lips again, tongues colliding and fighting for dominance, he tucked his hand behind your waist, grabbing the ribbon that kept your dress tight, yanking it harshly, making its ties go undone, making you breathe easily. You moaned again as he tasted your flavors, it was always changing for whatever reason, grape.. raspberry.. strawberry.. It was making him wild that you had tasted so divine all this time without his knowing.

He was getting desperate as he began to grind against your clothed core, you whimpered in desperation as you tried to close your legs with him between them. He pulled away from the kiss, licking his lips as he looked down at your submissive state with lust and desire, “You are so beautiful darling.” He says as wipes his chin with his thumb, licking slime off his wrist as he watched your reaction, you blushed as you looked away, embarrassed.

“You’re so divine.~” He says as he lays on top of you, locking your hands with his, pinning you down as his arms were keeping him up as he kissed your lips, your cheek, down to your neck, nibbling slime secretions before licking them up, off your chest, his kisses were making you writhe under him, squirming in desperation. He couldn’t help but laugh lightly before sucking softly on your jelly skin, slurping up your secretions like jelly candy.

His teasing while in your cycle was sending your body haywire, you needed friction and he was refusing to give you any, “please, please, Luci.” You begged, not knowing what you were really begging for, “Please what, darling?” He asks, moving away from your chest and tilting his head like he wasn’t depriving you of what you desperately wanted, “Please, please fuck me or something- I can’t- can’t take this any longer.” You cried as your body shivered from his touch, a finger trailing down from you neck to your chest, Lucifer scooping up a bit of your discharged slime like icing from a cake, licking his finger as you whimpered under him.

“Alright, I’ll give you what you deserve, dove.” He coo’d, kissing the side of your chin, before trailing down off the bed, his tail swaying side to side desperately as he lifted up your dress, you looked away embarrassed as he did, he sat on the floor as be shoved his head desperately between your legs, you yelped in surprise before you realized he pulled away, you look back at him, seeing your white panties torn against his bare teeth, you blushed furiously as you stared at him. He spat away your panties, discarding them to the floor before he leaned in in-between your legs again, clawing your jelly legs as he lifted then up for him to have more access to your core, you lifted your dress up with one hand, wanting to see what he was doing.

He snaked out his long forked tongue, looking at you teasingly before pushing himself into your core, tasting all of you now, you moaned in sudden pleasure, your body exuding more secretions, “ohh starss Lulu..” You moaned out, making him rile more as he stuck his tongue more deeply in you, tasting you more and more, shameless slurping noises coming from him.

You gripped the bed sheets, bucking your hips more desperately, “more, more luci..” you begged, as he shoved his face as deeply as he could but it wasn’t enough for you. You tried to grip his hair, making him more deeply but you were still desperate, you were bucking your hips into his face, practically face fucking him at that point but it wasn’t until you felt yourself nearing your limit, you then noticed his horns, if grabbing his hair wasn’t enough for you, his horns were.

You gripped his horns making him shiver and moan in surprise before you stroked them and used them against him, grinding yourself against his face as he growled from the sudden grip of yours. “Oh fuck, yes, that’s it Luci…” you moaned louder, making his tongue reach the furthest parts of you, thrusting his tongue in and out if you, “oh, fuck master~ just like that.” You teased, feeling yourself come undone, he clawed your legs harder, his sharp nails sinking into your skin, you moaned more as you rode your high on his tongue, making him lick and taste all your juices.

You panted as you kept using his horns to help you fuck yourself onto his face, “more, more Luci, taste me more!~” you begged as he obeyed, closing his eyes as his chest grumbled out a growl, he loved how sweet you were, body and voice. He couldn’t get enough of your flavor as you begged, he was so thankful he didn’t have nose as you rode his face, letting him taste more of you, he was so dazed by your juices, he kept eating you out like it was his last meal.

He removed one of his hands from your squishy thighs, he didn’t know he punctured your jelly skin as you oozed out more juices from where his sharp nails were, his hand then went to claw you inner thigh, pushing your leg up as he tried to get more access of your addicting flavors. “fuckfuck…” you whined, trying to lift your other leg up but it was held down by his strong grip, “Lucifer~ gonna come again~” you whimpered, as he growled, going more rougher with his tongue, making you lean your head back at you bucked your hips again, coming onto his face again, “ohhh~” you moaned as your body shook from the waves of ecstasy.

“Lucifer, Luci, fuck me please, please, need you ‘nside me.” you whimpered desperately, letting go of his horns as he licked up your juices before pulling away, “fuck you taste so amazing, love.” he says as he got up, his tail wagging again. You desperately latch onto him, sloppily trying to unbutton his shirt, “Luci, need you so bad..” you begged as he smirks, pushing you gently to the bed again, “wait honey bun,” He says, kissing your nose, “let me get you undressed first, okay?” he asks, seeming as he had an idea in mind.

He leaned in to kiss you desperately as you unbuttoned his vest, you then felt his hands trail behind your back, his claws sharpening as he pushed you up to lean on his chest, you began to hear tears and ripping, realizing he was removing your maid dress by shredding it apart, he dug his claws into the dress, ripping it opposite directions before you were completely free from it, you shuddered from the cold that suddenly touched your body as you tried to close your legs again, your core desperate to be filled again.

Lucifer laughed lightly before kissing your nose again before looking at your fully nude body, your jelly colors of purple blue and pink, “You’re so cute, ma chèrie.” He says lustfully under his breath, leaning close to your lips, kissing you gently before you cupped his face, kissing him harder and deeply, passionately and desperately. You grind your hips against his groin making him moan through the kiss, “Y/n, Y/n, calm down my dear.” he says, pulling away. “Need. please Luci…” you begged, making him give in, “I just want to know if you’re sure,” he says as he strokes your cheek, “is this your first time?” he asks, wanting to know what pace he should or could start at, “yes..” you admit, knowing all your life, you focused on your family than ever finding love before you died, especially in Hell now.

“If I hurt you or want me to stop, our safe word is ‘apple’, okay?” he smiles caring and lovingly as you look into his mesmerizing eyes, “okay..” you say with a nod, allowing him to continue and undo his trousers, you looked curiously at his as you felt your body secrete more slime, your core also spilling its own hormonal juices when you saw his length, now understanding where all his height went.

His tail wagged again as he gently wrapped his hands around your waist, teasing your clit as he rubbed his member against it, using your secretions as lube, you whimpered again from the stimulation, “please just put it in Luci, please!” you whined loudly, tired of waiting, “sorry, dearest.” he smiles apologetically, angling himself before pushing himself into you slowly, your body felt waves of pleasure, your sensitivity heightening, “faster, faster, fuck me, fuck me master, please.” You begged, calling him by one of his titles, making him thrust harshly into you, your body was so slimy and gooey, you didn’t need any adjustment, you only just felt waves of pleasure, “oh, yes!~” you shouted, mouth a gap.

You immediately bucked your hips, wrapping your arms around his neck as he claws into your waist, making you shiver more, he thrusted harshly into you, in and out as your slimy juices helped his thrusts, you mewled and moaned loudly, gasping as he kept using your waist to bring you back into him after thrusting out, creating a rhythm of pleasure for both side. You were so noisy you tried to use a pillow to hide your moans but he grabbed it and threw it across the room, “moan my name, darling, scream who you belong to.” He orders, thrusting hard than before as you gripped the sheets, shuddering as you felt yourself getting close again, “Oh! Lucifer! I’m so close!” you screamed as you obeyed his orders, he smirked as leaned down to your neck, “that’s it, almost there.” he says as he kissed your neck, biting down into your neck as you buck your hips into him again, coming all over him as he continued to thrust into you, “good girl.” he praised, your eyes rolling back as you felt your release cover his member as he kept pounding into you.

He sucked on your neck, drinking in your juices after piercing your jelly skin with his fangs, licking and kissing caringly. He kissed you passionately again as you gripped his hair harshly, feeling overstimulated but just craving more at the same time, he growled when you tugged his hair, making him pull away, “i’m close, dearest.” he says, making you wrap your legs around him, locking him in, “inside! inside! want all of you in me! mmmph!~” you screamed and moaned, making Lucifer kiss you again before biting to your neck harshly, thrusting his hips one last time into you deeply, your waist forced down to him, his claws baring into your skin.

You felt himself pour deeply into you, ropes of cum filling you whole, your eyes rolled back with your mouth wide open, your body trembling before he thrusted into you quickly again, shoving more of his fluids into you.

He pulled away from your neck, licking and kissing it lovingly, your skin oozing out more slime, “Fuck, I love you so much.” He pants heavily, keeping himself still as he kissed your body lovingly, he looked at your fucked out state, he smiled rather proudly as he continued to kiss your body, slowly pulling out of you.

You came back from your high, tears forming as you whimpered, your body feeling sore but your core still craving more, “Luci~” you say as you turn your body, your ass in the air for him now, his cum was dripping out of you as he watched you wiggle your ass, “fuck, Y/n..” He says as he felt himself get hard again, “you’re gonna be the death of me.” He tells you, pushing you further into the bed, climbing up onto it as well. He scooped up some of his cum that was spilling out before thrusting back into you, thrusting harshly again as you moaned loudly, he pinned your wrists down as he kissed your back, your sensitive body was shaking terribly but it was the most heavenly feeling of your entire existence.

“Yes, breed me Luci,” You begged as tears stained your face, making him thrust down into you, “knock me up… carry your children..~” you slurred, mind fucked from overstimulation and pleasure, you lost count of how many times you came but Lucifer was still going at it, your stomach bulged slightly from each deep thrust he did, you laid there limply as he bottomed out into you for the second time.

He pulled out as he flopped and fell to your side, his hair disheveled and your slime was practically all over the bed, He turned to you, “are you okay, honey bun?” He asks, seeing you still lost in your high, he kissed you softly before getting the pillow from the floor he threw earlier and putting it back on his bed, using it to lay back on, he closed his eyes as he sighed, only to open then widely when you jumped on top of him, “Luci, we aren’t done yet.~” you giggle, completely lost in pleasure, craving more, “Oh? still want more?” He smirked at you, trying to reach for your hips again only for them to be pinned above his head by you, “I get to have you my way now.” you smile darkly and lustfully, rubbing against him before sliding him into you, you leaned forward, your animal instincts of desperation made you hips smash down onto his member at an inhuman speed, “oh- fuck- wait! hah- slow down darling please-“ He begged before you kissed him, ignoring his plea.

He tried to struggle out of your grasp as you thrusted harshly into him, only making you push onto his chest, “this is for all the teasing, Luci, take it like you deserve it.” You glared at him as an order, “Please, you’re going to fast, if you keep this up, i’m gonna go insane.” he warned, you rolled your eyes as you ignored him again, “you can take it, Lulu.” you comfort as you kiss his cheek before kissing him passionately, tasting each other once again.

“mmmhhh, fuck, Y/n..” Lucifer moaned under his breath as you forced yourself onto him, seeming as he hasn’t said the safe word: he was enjoying this. You focused your strength on thrusting yourself into him, feeling him slide into your gooey insides quickly, “Fuck, take it, take all my cum, darling!” he says as he bucks his hips into you once more, deeply as he releases into you once again as you moaned softly, your exhaustion now kicking in.

You laid limp on Lucifer as you wiped your tears from sheer pleasure, tired and satisfied, “I’m sorry, Y/n,” Lucifer says as you felt something wrap around your waist, “just one more, okay, one more please, wanna make sure you’re knocked up, okay baby?” He says as his tail moved you up and down on his still hardened member, you whined in exhaustion but still let him to use your body for his pleasure, how could you say no to a desperate face like that?

He kissed you again, making out with you softly as he used his tail to thrust your tired body against his, pleased by how you whimpered in overstimulation, his cum was leaking out of you like crazy but it was all the more for him to give you last of his load before calling it for the day, his tail was slicked with your slime, sometimes when it picked you up, you’d slip from its grasp and fall straight down into him, making you moan and tremble, he only kept repeating this process, enjoying every whimper he could writhe out of you.

He kissed your tears away as he continued to make you ride him, he smiled at you lovingly as you shivered at every touch, noticing your tummy was slightly round from how much he had filled you, “gonna come again, okay?” He says as she whines, “fffu- ffuhhh..” you tried to speak, blissed out completely. He thrusted harshly a few times before his tail kept you in place, taking in his last load, making you feel tremble in pleasure. He kissed your chest, neck and face lovingly, his tail helping you move off him and next to him on his bed, he took the covers and placed them on you, rubbing your back, softly, watching you drift to sleep, his demon form going away.

He was going to give you all the aftercare you needed when you wake up, for now he wanted you to rest, seeing as that looked more important to you currently.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

Bonus:

“Hey, Y/n, did you know you taste like jolly ranchers?” Lucifer asked.

“I do?” You say, licking your arm for a taste test, “Oh shit, I do.”

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

the voices the fucking voices.

[reallyromealone]

Title: Oh Look a mate(s)

Chapter 3

Fandom: obey me

Pairing: demon brother's x male reader

Warnings: omega verse, nsfw, male reader, gay, smut, attempted assassination, drugging, biting, torture

Notes:

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

It was tomorrow.

The wedding was tomorrow.

(Name) Was quiet as he waited in the altar room, candles circling the room as marble carved murals surrounded him, the ceiling glass and the moon directly above him.

He sat in silence as the moon reached its peak before shadows flooded around him, a cold smoke that strangely didn't strike him with fear but instead filled him with warmth and safety. "Good Omega" one of the voices whispered as shadowy hands grabbed at him, gently touching and smoothing over the linen nightgown he wore before a long finger sliced it down the middle "Shhh" he could hear Satan's voice whisper in his ear as the seven men materialized and kissed various parts of his now exposed flesh "beautiful..." Mammon whispered breathlessly before biting into (name) 's flesh, the others doing the same.

Each scent gland was claimed as a tattoo manifested onto their soulmate tattoos, the demons licking and kissing their soulmate marks "You're bonded to us forever... Whenever you need us, call for us..." Beelzebub said as his blackened eyes gently kissed (name) 's lips as the fire of the candles burned brighter "Alphas...." (Name) Babbled as he leaned into someone's shoulders, Levi he believed... "So beautiful..." Asmodeus whispered as his hand crept down to the other's abdomen and began whispering enchantments, hand glowing as a tattoo formed on his stomach "Your first heat will be in less than 24 hours, this will help keep it from hurting so badly"

Never would he be denied a heat again.

The men scented and kissed (name), they could smell the slick flowing from him but knew better and to wait, wait till it was time.

When morning came, (name) was kept from his alphas all morning as he was polished to perfection, traditional white robes and gold accessories set aside as they painted swirls on his body, apparently matching the marks that would be on his alphas.

He looked at himself in the mirror, the makeup, the paint, and the clothes... He hardly recognized himself.

But it was him.

All him.

Lucifer made sure the guards were on high alert as he and his brothers got dressed, in their traditional robes that were the color of their omegas eyes, as is tradition in the kingdom, they already had two people sneak in after all.

"Your Majesty?" A meek voice spoke out as the demon turned to see an Omega maid look nervous, his eyes sharp and calculating "What is it?" He said simply and the maid straightened her back a bit before speaking once more "His Highness... He's extremely stressed and I thought it would be best if one of his--" Lucifer was already darting out of the room for his mate, he didn't care if he wasn't supposed to see him till the wedding.

His mate needed him.

(Name) Was freaking out as his omega decided Kw was an excellent time to freak out over the lack of alphas.

To be fair he got scented every morning but today, was a very high-stress day.

"My, aren't you beautiful" (name) snapped his head up as the maids left the room with haste and (name) whined and ran towards him, shoving his face into the alpha's chest and whining "My, can't go a day without your alphas?" He teased and lifted (name) 's face to look at it "None of that, you will ruin your pretty makeup" he was only soft for his omega, gentle kisses "We have a wedding, right? We will dance and party and then when the moon is high we will take you back here" he promised and kissed (name), scenting him lovingly.

"Now be good for alpha" he commanded, a slight alpha tone that they found calms (name). He liked not being in control all the time, instinctually.

"Ok alpha" he whispered hazily as the maids came back in and Lucifer left to finish getting ready, confident that he calmed his mate.

(Name) Looked nervous as he was ushered into a beautiful fabric and mahogany palanquin, the finest silks used for it "To walk you to the temple, your Highness" a soldier said calmly and (name) nodded as the soldiers in celebratory costume lifted it and (name) tried not to yelp.

He walked through the city, a grand parade to show the people the next queen, and (name) shyly waved at them as the people cheered in joy and some looked in envy at him. He could hear screaming in the distance, too focused on the slight shake with each step the guards took and the loud sounds around him to figure out what direction it came from exactly but the bullet that flew past his nose as a man was pinned down by guards have his answer, the omegas palanquin lowering as the guards checked on him "oh thank goodness... Are you alright your Highness?" The general that was a bit ahead rushed to check on him and (name) though stunned and Shellshocked, nodded slowly the Alpha nodded with a sigh of relief "We will get there soon your Highness"

The parade continued and (name) tried to regulate his breathing as he lifted his sleeves and took in the smell of Lucifer that clung to him, too close to his heat to be able to properly handle this.

God, he was so tired...

"We're here your Highness" Had that much time passed?

(Name) Was helped out by his maids, dressed in floral traditional outfits, darker colors as to highlight (name) 's snow white robes that dragged behind him, gold accents matching his accessories "You got this, your Highness" (name) 's closest maid, the one in charge of his maids smiled and (name) nodded before walking up the steps of the temple as people cheered.

Traditional fan dancers danced in front of him, a beautiful display as the guests of the wedding sat and watched in awe as (name) locked eyes with his alphas and had to suppress a chirp. The dancers moved their fans away to make an entrance for (name) to walk closer to them, Asmodeus taking his hands and kissing them gently as the others looked fond at the sight of their beloved, even Belphegor awake and focused on (name).

(Name) Looked at the guests, from countless kingdoms the Royals down to the mayors from cities including the village he was from, and looked in awe at the realization of how large this temple was, it seemed so small in the darkness.

(Name) Barely focused on the priestess as he looked at his mates, shadowy magic binding them together as (name) agreed to the contract of marriage "bound by the fates and the demon king himself, his Highness (name) Morningstar is granted a gift from his majesty of immortality, may his heart beat so long as his alphas" the demon king sat in the distance, watching his younger sons fondly, leaving hell to witness such an event as a red-haired demon stood beside him while staring intently.

(Name) Felt warm as he was brought close by his alphas and danced with them, a grand party that was sure to go on for the next week as guests watched and the city partied and after brought around to be introduced to guests "This is our elder brother, the next king" Lucifer introduced the Omega to his elder brother, next king of hell and intimidating to say the least but the large grin that broke out on his face said otherwise "my, a pleasure to meet you! My apologies that it took me so long to be able to meet you! Let me know if they act up all right. It will be nice to not have a little brother that will get on my nerves!" He teased as he hugged (name) and seemed so warm and understanding to him.

"My mate couldn't make it sadly, they're too far along to make the trip but hopefully after you two can meet!" Lucifer felt warm that his elder brother and a mate got along so well as the other brothers were dragged to talk to guests and eventually Lucifer and (name) went to speak to others, the Omega passed from alpha to alpha to not hog.

"An hour and you don't greet your parents?" (Name) Froze under Asmodeus' gentle hold as he turned to see the mayor of his village and his parents... And sister.

How did they get here?

"Not even an invite, thankfully our dear mayor invited us as his plus ones as his wife and sons couldn't make it," she said casually as his sister altered between glaring at him and swooning over Asmodeus, the beta looking flirty and showing her bust at him but the demon didn't even acknowledge her as he tilted his head at his mate's parents with a cold smile (name) didn't recognize but the gentle thumb rubbing his hip told him he was safe "my~ isn't this a surprise, (name) darling... Why don't you go make sure Beelzie doesn't eat everything, yes?" He urged his hesitant Omega who looked so precious and watched him walk away.

"E-excuse me!" The dad tried barking out and Asmodeus smiled coldly, a beta demanding not just an alpha but a supernatural alpha. Laughable really "I will allow you to continue to enjoy this celebration but if I hear even a whisper of my mate's name from any of your lips that isn't shining adoration I will remind you of your place," Asmodeus said barely above a whisper as he towered over the stumpy beta and his family, he read the letter.

All seven brothers read the letter.

And despite not being wrath, Asmodeus was the most upset.

No flirting, no banter.

Just a thinly veiled threat.

"Now you best behave"

You would think this Would deter (sister), make her behave... But no no.

She was hell-bent on having them.

Breaking this farce is a marriage.

It was expensive getting rut enhancer drugs but it was worth it in her eyes she looked around and saw that (name) was moved to Belphegor who sat in a corner quietly and (name) said worthless words to him and saw that Beelzebub was enjoying his food.

Perfect.

The drug was a fine powder, easy to mask on the powdered cream puffs that the demon was gorging on, slipping past when he went for some ribs and sprinkling on.

She just had to be available when the drugs kicked in.

It was not too long before the demon returned his attention to the cream puffs... But other people took them as well.

Like servants bringing them to their kings.

Oh well, she thought as she focused on Beelzebub and deemed everyone else as a stepping stone to her happiness.

Beelzebub froze after ten minutes, eyes dilating as he stood and looked around "Are you alright?" She tried to seduce the Alpha, pressing against him but like her brother, she didn't quite understand how mating worked and believed he would go to the first willing hole.

But in reality, he sought out (name) who was talking to Diavolos butler, the two fondly chatting about something or another.

"Move," he said coldly as he locked onto (name) marched to him, and lifted him, the other brothers looked concerned as Diavolo decided to start a ring dance and nodded at Lucifer, they all seemed to understand what was happening. (Name) Was confused as he was held close by his alpha who left the temple gardens and spread his wings before taking off, (name) shoving his face in Beelzebub's neck and that's when he smelt the rut. He couldn't help but whine, he was trying so hard not to go into heat but fuck...

He closed his eyes and felt himself sink further, sounds distorting and he felt his clothes removed carefully as voices spoke around him "he will be upset if we ruin this" Asmodeus...? Or is that Satan? "Alpha?" He slurred as the alphas kissed his flesh, cold to the touch and he felt something hard press against his back before he was pushed into his back, he couldn't even formulate a feeling of shame or worry as Belphegor traced the body paint that was on (name)s flesh "pretty..." The sleep demon murmured as he touched the womb tattoo a wave of pleasure washed through (name) and a low moan broke through him "Any pain he feels will feel like absolute pleasure... We may be dealing with a very horny Omega" Asmodeus teased, they didn't have an incantation to make him feel no pain during heat or pregnancy so it was the best option.

Especially because he kept moaning and crying, without it he would be writhing in pain.

"Why don't you spread your legs for us? Hmm? Show us how an Omega presents?" Lucifer spoke low and deep to the Omega who spread his legs on the bed and yelped when Beelzebub shoved his face between his legs and gave a long lick, pushing his legs over his shoulders as half his body was pulled nearly off the bed, Beelzebub on his knees before the bed. "O-oh! Alpha!" He cried out as Beelzebub ate his ass, licking around the rim before pushing in ever so slightly as the smell of slick was heavy in the room "wanna make alpha feel good? Why don't you show Levi here how much you want his cock?" Asmodeus took the initiative with getting (name) to pleasure them as they pleasured him, the Omega opening his mouth so prettily as the shy alpha fed him his cock, (name) licking the underside as he sucked. "H-how did he get so good?!" Levi gasped as he felt (name) hollow his cheeks with a vice force "I have been teaching him how to be a good little cock whore~" Asmodeus teased as Belphegor sucked on one of (name)s nipples as Asmodeus and Lucifer got hand jobs, the two assisting (name) a bit as his body shook.

Satan kissed his navel before moving to the omegas cock and sucking on it, the pre-cum leaking like crazy as (name) struggled to comprehend all the pleasure he felt, hips being held down as Beelzebub inserted a finger, curving it upwards against his prostate as he ate his ass like a final meal and added another finger "you're gonna be-- fuck! Taking a lot tonight baby ~" Asmodeus stammered as Levi came down (name)s throat, the Omega choking slightly but managing "fuck..? Shit.." Levi was already babbling as (name) 's body shook and a climax rolled through, Satan drinking it all "You want more?" Lucifer asked the Omega who whined "Nest!" Beelzebub wasting no time, feral and horny As the other alphas slowly went into a rut from being around a heat-stricken Omega, their demon forms were on full display. (Name) Was settled into his nest as they let Beelzebub enter first his large and heavy cock pressing against (name)s ass as (name) made out with Lucifer, pretty little sounds as Beelzebub pushed in slowly.

Each inch made for louder and prettier sounds from (name) as his body glistened with sweat, another climax rolling through him as Beelzebub was halfway through bottoming out before his hips snapped forward and his pelvic bone was pressed against (name)s ass cheeks "oh! Big...!" He cried out and pushed against him as Belphegor went behind him and held him up, kissing his neck as the others watched hungrily.

Beelzebub wasted no time pistoning his hips as (name) clawed at his skin, body shaking and writhing in pleasure as he poured slick "puppy up!" He cried out as he begged to be bread, owned and full... Belphegor moved around to Sroke (name)s cock and kiss his neck before biting into its neck watching (name) unfold as Beelzebub rolled his hips at the tightness and his grip so tight it was going to leave dark bruises on his hips come morning.

"Please please! Pup!" (Name) Begged for cum, pulling Beelzebub for a kiss and tasting his slick as the alpha's hips slammed one last time and cum poured into him, hot and sticky.

Beelzebub felt some sanity return to him as he looked at a fucked out (name) who couldn't even form words but babbled nonsense as Belphegor kissed him and coddled him "Let's get water and food into him then the next round starts" Lucifer instructed as they already prepared the necessary things that morning, food tested by the demons along with the water before feeding it to (name).

(Name) May have immortality but they still didn't want anything to happen to him.

Though poison pains right now would probably give him six earth-shattering orgasms.

No! No! Bad!

They washed the sweat and paint off his body as (name) recovered slightly but soon grew whiny as he was placed on top of Asmodeus, cock pushing in with ease and crying as Asmodeus gave harsh and slow thrusts.

"Come now, you got more to take ~"

Mammon was furious, absolutely livid as he slammed his fist against the assassin's skull, not wanting this vermin alive as his mate struggled with his heat and six cocks currently "You are taking my precious time with my mate, who the fuck sent you?" He was bordering feral as the assassin finally gave in "The sister! She wanted him dead!"

Oh?

Interesting.

Mammon left swiftly, telling the guards to find her, she couldn't have gotten far after all.

For now, the greedy demon needed to sink his cock into (name)s cute little ass.

And maybe bite it.

Bite it.

When he walked into the heated room, already nude he was met with (name) being railed by Asmodeus and Satan, cocks moving in his hole at vigorous paces as (name) sucked Lucifer's cock like he would die "(name), look whose here" Lucifer pulled him off his cock to look at mammon and the whine and moan that left his lips as he cried for the silver-haired demon, hands reaching for him, and who was mammon to deny something like this?

Mammon shoved his tongue in (name) 's mouth and relished as the Omega tugged at his hair "Wanna make me feel good?" He didn't even have to show his erect cock as (name) moved and took it in his mouth, mammon sighing at the tightness of his throat "he's a natural" Satan slapped (name)s ass as he pounded as Asmodeus sucked on his chest, the omegas hands going back to work as everyone slowly found a spot for them, the Omega cumming again in the process.

(Name) Was unconscious with Belphegor, needing a heavy rest before the next wave and thoroughly fucked out, the other alphas getting their turns after as Mammon reported findings and what the assassin admitted "She most definitely drugged Bee, our ruts not till winter" Asmodeus said thoughtfully, he should have just let Satan do what he originally wanted to do but that was (name)s choice, not theirs.

But now it was treason that they were talking about.

An attempted assassination against (name).

You see when Diavolo was the next king of hell, they were given rule of the overworld and essentially made (name) queen as they were to be overworld kings come coronation granted by their eldest brother.

And after this, (name) would be carrying their heir.

God, they were half erect at the thought of (name) pregnant.

"I have a manhunt for them, a bounty will be put up as well"

For now, they would care for (name).

When (name) woke, he couldn't feel his legs and his head felt foggy as he was placed into a warm bath "Good morning, lamb" Satan caressed his cheek "Alpha?" He said weakly, voice hoarse from their activities as Mammon gently massaged oils into him, the alphas already washing the cum and sweat off him "Hello pretty baby~ you took us so well, we are so proud of you" (name) chirped at the praise as he received loving kisses "after this was gonna feed you" Lucifer promised and (name) felt a slight sense of clarity "cuddle? Before heat comes back?" He asked as the others smiled, unable to resist the request.

(Name) Was naked and dried off as he cuddled the others who doted on him "You did so well, absolutely beautiful my love" Asmodeus cooed, and (name) let him kiss and love him "My garden?" He asked softly, why that was his worry beyond anyone but Lucifer eased his worries with the promise of the gardeners taking care of it.

For now, he was to relax.

[amorvincitomnia-claire]

"Forgotten Anniversary" – Diluc, Genshin Impact

Pairing/Characters: [ Diluc x GN!Reader ]

Tags: Angst, (married) established relationship, hurt/comfort, neglect, alcohol (slight)

Word Count: 1.3k words

Summary: “You forgot about our anniversary again, do we even matter to you anymore?” – Imagine Diluc as your husband of 4 years. He’s never failed to celebrate your anniversaries when you two started dating; always giving you gifts, doing anything to make you happy on your special day – But he hasn’t done any of that for the past two years, does it even matter to him anymore?

a/n: I'm sorry for taking so long to post! This is my very first posted fic so I'm a bit nervous but I had a lot of fun writing this <33 I'll be posting some prompts to better help some requests soon! I'll also post more works soon <33 (hopefully)

also i'm very much aware of the stark contrast of this post to my blog's aesthetic (and im sorry) but it's diluc so here we are

⊱┊ ·˚ ༘ ꒰ masterlist ꒱ + ꒰ request guide ꒱ !!

Imagine being married to the wealthiest man in Mondstadt, Diluc Ragnvindr. In the past, before your marriage, he would always celebrate your anniversary. You had always felt that it was a special day, and he made sure to pamper you with all his affection and love, and especially with gifts. He was a wealthy man, and he could afford to spoil you with numerous expensive gifts.

Thinking of anniversaries with Diluc always produced the same things in your mind: expensive jewelry, fine wine, beautiful roses, and the most affectionate man you’ve ever met. It was his way of celebrating the day, as it was another year added to your love for one another. He had always assured you that the day would always be special to him, and he would forever be grateful for the bond and love the two of you shared.

As time passed, a few years after the marriage, the two of you started to be more independent and occupied with your own lives, especially with Diluc and his busy winery. His business grew and required more of his time, stealing away the hours he could’ve shared with his spouse. He was often stressed and exhausted with work, so when he came back to his chambers where his wife waited, he had no energy for anything other than rest.

You noticed this early, two years into the marriage. His winery was growing, and he gradually became busier, spending less time with you at night and even less time with you during the day. On a good day, he might be able to eat breakfast with you. When you were lucky, he might even have the time to have dinner with you. But that was it, right? You couldn’t help but feel lonely, going to bed alone as he came home at later hours. When he was home early, he did nothing but sleep. And on your first, then second wedding anniversaries, his gifts and celebrations were significantly less than before. A flower bouquet left for you and given to you by the maid, or a few boxes of gifts left for you on the bed in the morning. At the time, you decided that it was better to understand him. You knew that he was a busy man, and you couldn’t blame him for the lack of thought. Still, you felt neglected.

Then the day of your third wedding anniversary came. It was clear now that he was a busy man, with very little time to spare for himself — so you were going to take things into your own hands. You wore the black dress he had bought for you a few years back, decorated the bedroom with flowers, and had written a love letter for him, sealed with an elegant red wax seal. Two wine bottles and two wine glasses were set out for the two of you. You had told him about your plans a few nights back, when you waited for him to come home. He had told you that he would surely be there, and promised to make time for his beloved wife. There you were, sitting patiently in the quiet confines of your shared bedroom, waiting for your husband to arrive. The clock went on and eventually ticked past midnight. He didn’t arrive. You tried to understand him, but the feeling of loneliness and neglect weighed heavily on you. Tears unknowingly streamed down your cheeks as you took off your makeup and jewelry. You took one bottle of wine, skipping the glass and drinking straight from it. One bottle of wine emptied within the hour, and then the next bottle.

You woke up to urgent apologies from Diluc, and he showered you with kisses and pleas of forgiveness. He muttered an excuse here and there, and told you that he would make up for it and never forget about your anniversary again. You tried to understand him. He was your husband, and you knew of his stress and hardships in his job, as well as his passion and determination to keep his business up and going. You forgave him now, but the bitter feeling of neglect still lingered.

The fourth wedding anniversary quickly came by. Even you had started to get used to the decline in celebration, and almost forgot as well. The bitter feelings remained, and you planned not to do anything for the special day. It was a petty retort, but it was all that you could do against your husband. After all these hardships, you still loved him, and he still loved you— at least that’s what you felt.

The fourth wedding anniversary arrived, and so far no sign of celebration nor gifts from your spouse. You looked around, almost desperately trying to find a sign that he had remembered at the very least. It was bad enough that you woke up alone on your anniversary. The day progressed to afternoon, then to dusk, then to night. You had given up on waiting for him. He forgot again, you were sure of it.

The rain poured heavily and loudly outside, drowning out the sounds of your sobbing. It was cold, and you wore one of his shirts as an attempt to comfort yourself. It was pathetic, you thought to yourself. The clock ticked past 9 pm, and yet there was still no sign of your husband. Several deafening thoughts circled through your head over and over again. Did he not promise? Was there something going on at work? Was his work more important than his spouse? Did the day not matter to him anymore?

You curled up on your bed with your head between your knees, letting the rain drown out the thoughts from your mind. You hadn’t noticed the creak of the door as it opened, as your husband came walking in.

As the door creaked open, Diluc stepped into the room, his expression a mix of guilt and concern. He rushed forward, his voice filled with apologies, but you couldn't bring yourself to listen. You were tired— tired of the excuses, tired of the neglect, tired of feeling like an afterthought in his busy life.

"You've forgotten about our anniversary again," you hissed, your voice trembling with pent-up frustration. "Do we even matter to you anymore?"

The words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the growing discord between you. Diluc's eyes widened in shock, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right words to say. But before he could respond, you continued.

"I've tried to be understanding, Diluc. I've tried to support you, to be patient. But how much longer am I supposed to wait? How much longer am I supposed to pretend like it's okay to be forgotten?"

Your chest tightened with emotion, tears threatening to spill as you poured out your frustrations. Diluc stood before you, his usual stoic demeanor crumbling under the weight of your words.

"I-I didn't mean to," he finally whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of rain against the windows. "Work has been overwhelming, and I lost track of time. But that's no excuse, I know." His admission only fueled your anger. "I'm tired, Diluc," you admitted, your voice breaking as you finally let down your walls. "I'm tired of feeling like I'm not enough. I'm tired of feeling like you don’t value our anniversary anymore. Like you don’t value our marriage!" For a moment, there was silence between you, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "I'm so sorry, my love. I know I've let you down, but please...please don't give up on us."

His words pierced through the haze of your anger, reaching deep into your heart. And in that moment, you knew that despite everything, despite the pain and the hurt, you still loved him.

"I won't give up on us," you whispered, your voice barely a whisper against the backdrop of the storm outside. "But we need to talk, Diluc. We need to figure this out together."

You wrapped your arms around each other. You knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. For in the midst of the storm, you found solace in each other's arms.

I hope I did well <33

Prompts list soon! Feel free to give some requests <3

⊱┊ ·˚ ༘ ꒰ masterlist ꒱ + ꒰ request guide ꒱ !!

[tinytennisskirt]

The Motions

Summary: Reader and Art go through the motions of love, a wedding, the honeymoon, and pregnancy.

Warnings: smut! AU where Tashi doesn’t exist, tipsy sex, unprotected sex, oral f!receiving, mentions of calories and weight gain, pregnancy, mentions of pregnant sex.

You were picking berries in Art’s grandma’s garden, putting them in his grandma’s basket lined with a pink checkered cloth that she held in her wrinkled hands. You were talking about something out of earshot, but he could hear his grandma’s laughter ring out through the backyard, hearty and loud. You were smiling, the evening sun hitting you just right. Art watched from the gazebo by the pool, his mom who took care of the house talking to him about something he wasn’t hearing.

He loved seeing his grandma come back to visit her home from the retirement home, but he loved seeing you make her laugh even more. Art leaned onto his hand, mouth just a little open watching you cheers over a blackberry and eat it the same time as his grandma. He knew it then, he loved you so much, he knew he had to marry you.

And he did a year later. Married at twenty-five. A young couple, married in his grandma’s garden with only friends and family around. You looked perfect, like an angel in white. Art would never forget how much he smiled that day, his cheeks hurting.

The after party was perfect as well. String lights over the walls, delicious food, and good music. You in a smaller white dress that enabled you to dance with him all night long. Bell sleeves you insisted on because of some Anne Hathaway musical that you were obsessed with. You only ever stopped to thank family for coming and giggle about the wedding with your best friend. Art took some time to talk to Patrick, but no matter what anyone, even Patrick said to him, his eyes were glued on his perfect new bride.

You looked at him from where you were and waved, holding up your ring finger and blowing him a kiss off of it. He loved you more than anything.

A few more drinks from the open bar that had been set up by the shed in the garden and you and Art were laughing, pictures being snapped every now and then. You danced with Art’s grandmother before she headed back to the retirement home, pretending like you hadn’t had too many margaritas and Art enjoyed the attempt, surprised at how well it went.

You said goodbyes to your guests and soon it was just you, Art, Patrick and your best friend and maid of honour. You enjoyed what was left of the bottled wine and talked, but as soon as they left, Art had you against the wall.

You had the house to yourself, you’d leave for your honeymoon tomorrow evening and you two stumbled drunk on love and wine into the house, your back against the wall, the pictures falling off the wall- thank god there was no glass in the frame.

Kissing passionately, his hands all over your body, your arms around his neck, hands in his hair. He cradled your head as you both rolled against the wall, trying to make it to the bed but it was so useless. The table against the wall in the hallway was going to have to do. Art shoved the tennis trophy off of it along with the basket of keys and the small crocheted flower pots his grandma collected. He picked you up and set you down on the surface and in seconds you were kissing again, his hands reaching around the back to unzip the dress but when it wouldn’t come down, other measures had to be taken.

You and Art both hiked your dress up, him desperately kissing down your neck, one hand sliding down over your waist to rest on your now-bare hip. It was the other hand that pulled down the white lingerie you wore under the dress, something meant to be seen in better lighting, on a better surface, but was now on the floor.

Perfect warm kisses down your collarbone, up your neck, behind your ear as your hands fumbled with pulling off his tie, unbuttoning the top of his white dress shirt, moaning quietly as he used his teeth on your earlobe. You gave up on the buttons halfway and started on the button of his dress pants, undoing them, undoing the zipper. He gripped your hip with the tips of his fingers, sliding his hands over the smooth skin of your thigh, reaching down between them, pushing fingers into you as you moaned into his ear. Your legs wrapped around him in his boxers as he pumped his fingers in and out at the pace he knew you loved.

You moaned out loudly into the empty of the house and it set his body on fire. Neither of you could take it, you tugged on the rim of his boxers and he obliged, taking them off in seconds, stepping out and away and coming to reconnect with your lips hungrily, perfectly, fingers continuing to fuck you just right. You needed him more than anything.

“Art, please,” you mumbled against his lips.

“Mhm?” He grinned, lifting you just slightly to reposition you. Your hand fell to his dick, gripping it and slowly moving your hand up and down. He groaned audibly and it fuelled your own flame. His fingers left you and gripped your hips again as he pulled you to the edge of the table, the perfect height to push himself into you. You both moaned loudly, feeling him fill you. “Fuck, I love you.” He groaned, the thousandth ‘I love you’ of the night, but the sexiest. You grinned as he began to thrust him and out, breathing hard and gripping his hair.

“I love-mmm- I love you too,” you hummed, tossing your head back as he fucked you as you sat on the table, your legs wrapping around his waist. He took the time to kiss your neck again, your collarbone, biting your ear again. “Fuck!” You moaned out.

Art only fucked you harder with every moan, fuelling him, keeping him going. That and all the love- so much love. It wasn’t even your honeymoon yet.

He finished and you both were left sweating by this table in the hallway. You wrapped your arms around his neck, foreheads resting against each other’s. You shared a smile and Art grinned his signature grin, kissing your nose. You cupped his face, kissing him gently on the lips.

You slept like babies that night.

When you got off the plane in Dominican Republic, you raised your hands over your head and kissed Art hard on the lips. He loved seeing you excited. You practically told every stranger who spoke to you that you were on your honeymoon, showing off the wedding ring that was of course, a travel dupe, but just as beautiful. Your real rings were at home on the kitchen table.

The house you rented was beautiful, by the water, full of sun, and very private.

“This is perfect,” you sighed happily, flopping down on the large patio couch that was just outside on the deck under the shade of an umbrellas.

“Not as perfect-“ he sat next to you, “-as my wife.” He grinned. You sat up just to kiss him.

“That was cheesy,” you told him. “But I love it. And you.” You kissed him again. You headed into town that day, a grocery trip. The locals were lovely and very nice. There were vendors selling fruits, vegetables, kids playing at the playground.

You and Art bought yourselves some fruit and sat on a bench at the park, sharing it bite for bite. You watched the children play, smiling as they ran in circles around tree trunks. Art watched your expression as a woman with a baby in a wrap passed you both, the baby the cutest you both had ever seen. Chubby-cheeked, small fingers, curious eyes that looked over you both as the baby passed. Art noted how your hand subconsciously drifted to place itself flat over your stomach. He was feeling it too, if he was honest. Something about being married, something about you looking so empty in your tank top and skirt.

“Cute baby,” you said, snapping back to reality when you realized Art was watching you with a smile.

You smiled back and Art twisted his mouth to the side, knowingly. “Cute baby?” He teased.

“Something about being married, I don’t knowww,” you said sheepishly. It was exactly what he was thinking… He leaned over and kissed you on the forehead. There was a wordless agreement made and the anticipation began.

Art cooked dinner while you worked on dessert, him making perfect seafood kababs over the provided barbecue in nothing but his swim trunks and some stupid apron you made him wear. You sat, admiring him from the kitchen inside, thinking about how he looked so husband. You had no other descriptors. He was so husband.

He waved at you through the window, staring at the bikini you were wearing as you baked your chocolate lava cake. You waved back, wiggling your fingers knowingly.

You ate together at the glass table right by the beach in the shade of the palms. The food was perfect and the dessert even better as the sun began to set. A whole day of enjoying being married and Art could not focus as you wiped your bottom lip of the lava cake, sucking the extra off your fingers, looking at him through your eyelashes. He watched, a little dumbstruck, mouth a little open. He could have had you on the table right then and there, but he knew he’d get lucky later…

You poured yourself a bath as you both digested, filling it with rose petals and sweet smelling candles. Art himself took a shower in the outdoor shower to clean himself from the water he’d been swimming in while he waited, then he cleaned up from dinner as his hair dried.

He was washing dishes when you stepped out from the bathroom. Hair perfect, eyelashes long, lips perfectly pouted and your body wrapped in delicate lace that barely covered you at all. a very small slip skirt to top it all off. Art almost dropped the dish he held but he was lucky to have the restraint to take off the dishwashing gloves as you used your pointer finger to signal him to come closer, slipping through the door of your bedroom and shutting the door behind you. He followed, opening it to you laying on the bed for him in wait.

He grinned as he jumped onto the bed, going to kiss you- but you dodged him. You giggled, looking at his surprise. He narrowed his eyes at you, going to kiss you again but you moved your head to the side, giggling more. “Uh-uh,” you teased. Art’s eyes glazed over with lust fuelled by love, looking over your body in this lingerie. You leaned forward and he thought you’d kiss him but you dodged him again. Art grinned his lopsided grin and grabbed your face, kissing you excitedly. You both laughed into it but the laugh was gone when he pressed his body to yours. He was hard before he even left the sink and he was glad there was so little to remove. You moaned as his hand slid down your neck, over your chest, gently squeezing through the thin fabric of your lingerie.

Oh, Art was driven crazy by the way you looked in it. The lights in the room were dim but enough to get a good look at you and if he weren’t so busy kissing you, lips against lips, hungry, driven, needed, he would be staring. He was painfully hard, pressing against you as he kissed down your neck, down your chest, moving your lingerie aside to kiss your chest, sending goosebumps to every part of your body and causing heat to flare between your thighs. He knew just what to do.

His fingers gently went between the slip of your skirt and your waist, lips following kissing between lace and skin and pulling it down. It revealed the bodysuit’s end, crotchless, perfect, but Art had a preference. He unsnapped the edges, the lace curling over your stomach as he kissed lower and lower. You pulled the lingerie off, not even minding that its purpose was quick, but effective.

Art’s lips grazed your thighs, planting the smallest of kisses down the inside of them, gently pushing your legs up into a bent position. You could have moaned just at the action of it, gentle but with intent.

He kissed up the thigh and over the hip again, coming to kiss your stomach. It was soft skin, pretty, but he imagined how it would feel to kiss in a few months after he was done with you. He kissed just below your belly button, then down, down, down, until he kissed gently over your clit and it send another wave of goosebumps, much stronger. He was gentle, so gentle it was almost unbearable.

Your hands slid into the roots of his hair. “Please,” you begged, breathless over the lack of touch, or rather the lack of pressure that you so needed.

“What was that?” Art said quietly from between your thighs, hovering over the places you needed his mouth, his tongue. He planted another kiss over your skin, not enough.

“Please,” you said, just a little louder. “I need it, I need you.”

“Need me to what?” He asked, eyes peeking up from where you laid. You pushed his head back down, but he didn’t you push him into any action. He was enjoying teasing you back, knowing it was so much worse than a dodged kiss. He could feel how in need you were as he kissed just a little lower, over the most sensitive parts. You breathed a heavy sigh, pulling his hair just gently but trying to push his mouth against you. “Say it.”

You flushed, “I need you-“ another heavy breath left your lungs, “-Please, Art.”

Honestly he didn’t even want you to take another second, he himself couldn’t help it. In a heartbeat his tongue was exactly where you needed it. Your back immediately arched at the contact and Art himself moaned as you did, the taste of you more delicious than any meal either one of you could ever cook.

His tongue licked over your clit, pressing hard against eliciting a second moan from you, licking down over you, his tongue sliding and pushing itself inside, just to lick up again. Your hands pulled his hair and you squeezed his head with your thighs gently, feeling all of it, every flick of his tongue, every time he circled your clit, every time his tongue pushed back inside, moving up and down quickly.

He pressed against the bed, but it wasn’t good enough, he was too excited to fuck his wife. He hummed against your cunt, sending vibrations down his tongue. You moaned louder, “Fuck, Art!” You moaned out. “Fuck, fuck- mmm.” You couldn’t help the noises he caused. He loved every second of it, every little noise, every tiny whine. Art would have continued until you came on his tongue, but your voice was the instruction he could never deny. “Fuck me, please.” You moaned.

He couldn’t waste a second after that ask, moving from between your legs just as you asked, wiping his mouth on his shirt before pulling it off and kissing you again. Hot, needy, passionate. Your hands travelled to his shorts, pulling them down, him following through by kicking them off. There was no waiting, there was no falter in his arousal, he plunged into you almost immediately, starting rough.

You both moaned loudly in unison as he began thrusting in and out. His excited crooked grin fucked right off by the way you tightened around him. His body over yours, chest to chest, dick deep inside you. Your whole body felt warm, fuzzy, and you were dazed, high on him. He lifted your leg over his shoulder, pushing deeper, you feeling it in your lower stomach as he fucked you. “You feel so good,” he said. He’d made love to you a million times before but this was rich with sober lust. “Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned.

Your eyes rolled back as he only went harder, faster, feeling you tighten under the pressure. He continued, more and more until, “Fuck, I’m close.” He said. “Can I?”

“Go ahead baby,” You grinned into the kiss, warmed as he continued, his thrusts getting harder, but more spaced, sloppier. You felt it hot as he finished into you, coming undone with your name on his tongue. It was loud, it was enough, it was hot and you were so full of him, even as he pulled out.

You breathed hard, feeling it when he moved out of you, kissing you a few more times before pushing up and moving right back between your thighs immediately following. He ate you out until you finished, HARD, moaning his name out desperately.

You fucked three more times that night.

The honeymoon was lovely. You came home and resumed work, Art resuming his tennis. You had both had late nights, sometimes early mornings, but slept soundly together every night, arms wrapped around one another until you woke up. Two months of a newly-wed routine with plenty of sex, plenty of kissing, and so much love in a singular household.

Art’s thing had been Chinese food lately. He’d come home from tennis with it, he’d get it on the way back from groceries and on Fridays when you both had nothing to do in the evenings and didn’t want to cook, you’d order in. It didn’t even occur to you that maybe it was too much when you when to put on your jeans and they didn’t fit. You felt the thighs were tighter as you pulled them up only to find that it was harder to button. You sucked in to button them and looked in the mirror. Maybe you’d put on some weight. You called Art into the bedroom, he walked in with his cereal and first thing he was excited to see you in just jeans and your bra.

“I have forty minutes before practice,” he said, setting the bowl down on the bedside table. You chuckled before looking back at the mirror.

You couldn’t help but smile, looking at him through it. “I have to ask you something and you have to answer it like you’re on truth serum, okay?” You said, turning to face him. He nodded, looking just a little bit concerned now at your approach. “You can’t answer as my husband or as the man who loves me, okay? Truth serum.”

“Truth serum,” he repeated, nodding. He walked over and kissed your forehead, confusion in his eyes.

You looked back in the mirror, back at him. “Havr you noticed any weight gain? On me.” You asked. You had heard about the effects of being someone’s wife but didn’t think they’d set in just yet.

Art cleared his throat, “Weight or not, you’re beautiful either way,” he said.

You smiled, but shook your head, “Not as my husband!” You giggled. “You’re sweet, though.”

He kissed you quickly, pulling you closer. “I have noticed, yes, but I don’t mind. In fact, I think I like it.” He smirked just a little. The man you loved for years could still make you blush. “I think it’s my fault. The Chinese.” He nodded.

“I was thinking that too,” you said. “It’s okay. I suppose I forgot I don’t have your metabolism and play tennis almost every day.” You chuckled. “I think I’ll lay off it for now.”

“Do you need to?” He grinned, pulling you into a kiss with intention.

“I have work in thirty,” you interrupted his kiss, though you loved it.

He grinned, “Oh, you have work.” He said back to you, kissing you again, this time with more passion. “I’ll make it quick?”

“Deal,” you agreed, pushing him back on the bed. You loved him and he loved you in any form, you were learning. That was good enough fuel for morning sex. Maybe you could burn calories bouncing for a bit…

The weight gain worsened. You gave it another three weeks, weeks that you began hitting the gym every morning of every other day, going with Art to practice, and only having Chinese once. You looked in the mirror again. Art came up behind you, kissing your shoulder, moving your hair to kiss your neck. You were undressing after work and you stood there in just your underwear. His hands slid over your waist, your hips.

“You still love me like this?” You asked him.

“Like what?” He asked, kissing your ear gently. It sent goosebumps over your skin.

“Like this,” you gestured to the mirror. “Bigger.”

He smiled against your skin, “So much.” He hummed into your ear. “You are so beautiful.”

“Promise?”

“You want me to prove it?” He asked, grinning. He moved to look at you, but you didn’t look very happy. “I’m sorry. Of course I promise. I married you, you just happen to be inside of a body. I love that too, but it doesn’t make you more or less worthy of how I feel.”

You were in love with his words. With the mouth that spoke them. With him. “But what if it gets worse.”

“There is no worse,” he chuckled, kissing your cheek, then nose, then lips, softly. “But Y/N, I don’t think it’s weight gain.” He said. He just smiled, “I have a theory.”

“What?” You asked. And it all clicked. You covered your mouth, eyes widening. “Do you think- I- why didn’t I even think about that?”

He grinned, “I think we both thought it was the Chinese.”

“It was supposed to be,” you laughed a bit breathily. “Oh my god, do you think we- oh my god.”

“I bought you two tests today,” he chuckled. You hit him in the arm. “What?”

“Move! I have to go take them!”

He laughed as you rushed in your underwear to the bathroom where he had laid them on the counter. It was a good thing you’d had a ton of iced tea at work that day. You were so cute. Art wouldn’t lie, from the moment it clicked for him, his heart hadn’t stopped racing. Part of him was worried that it wasn’t what the situation was and maybe it was something else, but he had a feeling. And so did you.

You wrapped yourself in your robes, your heart beating hard as you opened the door, Art waiting against the wall outside, arms crossed. Your hearts beat hard, nearly in unison. “I didn’t look yet, I thought we should together?” You said, the nerves apparent in your voice.

You set them down on the bedside table and sat on the edge, your eyes staying on Art’s. You could see the love in his eyes, the anticipation right along with it. You could feel it as your heart beat against your rib cage. “In three?” He said, perfect eyes meeting yours.

“I love you,” you said, trying not to giggle just because of the nerves. How did you not even think about this?

“I love you too. In three?” You both were so so scared, but so so in love. You nodded. “3…2…1,” and you both looked down at both of the tests, double-lined and confirming with a digital word,

pregnant.

You gasped, covering your mouth with one hand, the other grabbing Art’s arm. He inhaled sharply, turning to you without hesitation and kissing you hard, holding your face with both of his hands.

A baby, a baby, a baby.

“Oh my god,” he grinned between hard kisses, full kisses, perfect, excited kisses. “Oh my god.”

You kissed his cheek over and over and over, his whole face was peppered out of sheer excitement. “I’m pregnant!” You giggled. He chuckled, kissing you hard again. It was scary and new but wonderful to know it wasn’t Chinese food’s fault. It was lovely, wonderful, fulfilling. “I’m so glad I haven’t drank since the wedding.” You laughed. Art’s hands wrapped around you, holding you tight, your arms doing the same, keeping him in an embrace that he broke only to kiss your stomach the way he had on your honeymoon. He’d been waiting to do so.

And he never stopped kissing your stomach whenever he could, appreciating your body for what it was working so hard to grow. Sex got a little bit harder to achieve, but Art loved every second of it, worshipping your body for its achievements. He was great, very supportive, burying himself in books about parenting and pregnancy, buying you or making you every craving. He loved every change, every difference, how cute you looked in dresses. He cried when you ruptured the balloons to pink confetti, more excited to have a daughter than you’d ever expected. He loved you and he would love your daughter more than anything.

He was there through labour, through delivery, letting you squeeze his hand hard enough he thought you might break his bones. Even through the sweat and tears, you were the most beautiful woman in the world to him. And you were soon the most beautiful mother in the world to him when your daughter finally arrived after seven hours of labour. She was the most beautiful thing, covered in blood, but so beautiful. So tiny. So perfect.

He held his little girl in his arms when she was all clean and she smelled exactly as a baby should. She had big cheeks, a cute little nose, and he could pinpoint the features you’d given her. “She’s so beautiful,” Art said, trying not to cry. He was so in love, it was overwhelming. He passed you your baby and you held her, tired, crying. “Thank you.” He said.

You looked at him, “For her?” You pouted, your husband’s gratitude the most beautiful thing.

“For her.” He grinned, looking at his perfect daughter. “She’s absolutely perfect, you did such a good job.” He leaned down and kissed you quickly, then kissing his baby on the forehead. “I love you so much.” He said, meaning you both.

“I love you too,” you replied, kissing him again. You were so in love and here, in your arms, was the evidence