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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 3 months

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Overprotective- Jacaerys Velaryon

A/N: My thoughts lie only on HOTD, and most of those thoughts are on this PRINCE. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 3.0k Synopsis: Jace's overprotective nature begins to grate on the reader's nerves as the birth of their first child looms closer.

Legend told that when in the womb, Targaryen babies started out as dragons before transforming into human children. It was nothing more than a silly folktale, your Targaryen family had assured you. But waking up in the dark of night, flinging the covers off of your scorching body, you aren't so sure.

Your nights had been spent like this for nearly two months now. If it wasn't the heat that coated your body, clinging sweat to your brow, it was waking up nearly ever hour to relieve yourself.

The child growing in your stomach was truly a Targaryen - passionate and unyielding.

The first four months of your pregnancy had been wonderful. You had none of the sickness that so many face in the early stages of their maternity. Back then you were often tired, but the child slept whenever you did. And to top it all off, Jace was a perfect husband. He brought you water when you needed it, rubbed your feet when they were aching, and then, you had wanted him constantly, and he had been more than happy to oblige.

But things change quickly during pregnancy, you are coming to understand. Jace wakes up next to you now, sitting up immediately.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing," you say, turning to face him. Your bedroom is dark, but even so, you can see the worry in his eyes. "Just too hot."

"Can I do anything for you? Should I call the Maester?"

"No, I'm fine," you say, straining to get out of bed. He supports your back, giving you the extra push to get up. You hate that he has to do this, that he has to push on your sweat drenched back, in order for you to stand.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"To relieve myself."

"You just got up--"

"I know, Jacaerys," you snap, holding your stomach as you leave the room.

Jace had been wonderful those first few months, when you had been in high spirits. But now, you were in pain constantly, which made you irritable, which made any attempt he made to help you irksome.

When you came back into the room, Jace is still up, his head resting on his pillow. He lifts it a little when you come back in, smiling at you gently. The sheets have been changed - another new routine - but one that doesn't bother you so much. It made a world of difference to lay down in a cool, clean bed after waking in a pool of your own sweat.

"All right?" he asks as you lay down beside him.

"Yes."

"Sure?"

"Yes, why?" you ask, tilting your head up to look at him.

"Because you called me Jacaerys," he says, brushing a stray hair off your brow. "You only do that when you're mad at me." You let out a breath of laughter, but immediately feel like the emotion could change into a sob. Jace must see it, too, because he scoots closer, pulling you into his bare arms.

"Hey," he says, kissing your forehead, "You can call me Jacaerys whenever you like."

"I'm not mad at you," you say, turning into him, so your growing stomach presses into his. "There's just this monster inside of me making me go mad." Jace smiles to himself, nodding his head.

"I know."

"I love you," you say, a hand to his cheek. He leans in to kiss you, his lips cool. When you break apart, you realize the windows are wide open, and while you've been sweating all night, he has to be freezing. You start to say something about it, but he cuts you off.

"I'm fine," he says. "I love you. Please just try to get some sleep."

"Get off me, then," you say, pushing him playfully. He smirks, falling back over to his side, taking your share of the blankets, as well. You lay on your back, and can't help the groan of pain at the pressure the position puts on you. Jace immediately reaches for your hand.

"Jacaerys," you say, squeezing his palm once. He laughs.

"Good night, Y/N."

"Goodnight."

At seven months pregnant, the burning has finally stopped, but you feel weaker still. Every movement puts pain on your back, your shoulders, your feet. You and Jace speak a language that is mostly moans and groans, and not the kind that used to be typical for the two of you.

One morning, when Jace is away at Driftmark, Rhaenyra joins you for breakfast. At the sight of your sovereign, you try to stand, which makes Rhaenyra laugh.

"Don't trouble yourself, Y/N," she says, walking towards you. "I remember when I was your size. Took me all morning just to get out of bed." You give her a tight lipped smile, settling back into the comfy position you had arranged for yourself.

"Thank you, Your Grace."

"How are you feeling?" she asks, pouring herself a cup of tea. She motions to you, but you decline with a shake of your head.

"I'm alright."

"Is she kicking?" she asks, nodding to the hand on your belly.

"Only when I'm trying to sleep," you say with a laugh. "You agree with Jace, then? You think it'll be a girl?"

"The way you're carrying, yes, but one never really can tell. What are you hoping for?" she asks.

"For these next months to pass quickly," you say, straining when a nerve pinches in your side. You adjust your position, and find that Rhaenyra is looking at you with a small, understanding smile. "And of course, for a healthy baby."

"Of course."

"I don't know how you've done this so many times," you say. "Does it get any easier?"

"No," she says simply. You sigh, which makes her smile grow. "How has Jace been?" she asks.

"Very protective," you say, smiling. "Maybe too much so. I feel like if I just breathe wrong he's on alert, worried something has happened." A strange expression passes over Rhaenyra's face - equal parts pride and sorrow.

"I'm afraid Jacaerys has seen more than his fair share of pregnancies gone wrong," she says gently.

"I'm sorry, I know," you say, embarrassment passing through you.

"That's not to say that he isn't overbearing," she adds with a smile. "He's much like his father that way."

"Really?"

"He couldn't always be there," she says, "But when he was, he made up for the time apart with his watch over me." You smile at her as the door opens across the room, and Jace enters.

"You're back early," Rhaenyra says, lifting an eyebrow at him. He smells salty when he leans down to kiss you. He smiles at you, then looks to his mother.

"Thought I might join you for breakfast," he says, sitting next to you. "Besides, I was needed here more than at Driftmark." You exchange a look with Rhaenyra.

"How are you feeling this morning?" he asks you.

"Just fine, Jacaerys," you say, patting his cheek. "You didn't need to cut your visit short."

"Well, there is something I need to do here nonetheless."

"What's that?" you ask.

"It seems Syrax has laid another clutch of eggs. Joff and I are going to retrieve them, and the younger boys are going to help us pick one for the babe," he says, a hand on your stomach. You smile at him, at the gentle caress of his hand. You know he comes from a place of love with his attention.

"Do you want to join us?" he asks.

"I doubt I could make it downstairs, much less down to the Dragonpit."

"We could bring them to you," he says.

"No," you say, "Decide with your brothers. Just pick out a good one." He nods to you, leaning in to kiss your temple.

At the end of breakfast, Jace goes off to the Dragonpit, but only at your insistence. He wanted to walk you back to your chambers, but Rhaenyra assured him she was more than up to the task. Once he was out of sight, she laughed to herself.

"I see what you mean," she says.

Jace returns to your room that night with a shiny, white dragon egg.

Jace's lips are soft on yours. At eight months pregnant, finding moments with him is getting harder every day. He lies next to you, a hand on your stomach, the other cradling the back of your head.

"Y/N," he hums, each word spoken onto your lips, "I want you." You make a sound in your throat, both in agreement and in discomfort. It has been too long since the two of you have been intimate.

"I'm huge," you say.

"You're not and I don't care," he says, his mouth moving across your jaw.

"The last time we did this," you breathe, arching into him when he nips at your earlobe, "We had to stop because you worried you'd hurt the baby."

"I promise I'll relax this time," he says.

"How could you even get to me?" you ask with a laugh. Jace smiles at you as his hand moves from your stomach to your hip, turning you onto your side easily. He presses up behind you, kissing along your neck.

You sigh, relaxing into him. His hand pulls up the skirt of your nightgown, exposing your legs to the cool night air. It has been so long that you know you're ready for him immediately.

"Just tell me if I'm hurting you," he says. You groan, putting a hand to his face to stop him from kissing you more. "Y/N."

"Jace." You scoot away from him, turning slowly to face him.

"I didn't mean anything by it," he says with a sigh.

"How many times have you fucked me in that same position?" you ask. Jace frowns, frustration evident on his face. "Have you ever hurt me?"

"No, but things are different," he says. "What's the harm in asking if you feel okay?"

"It doesn't make me feel desirable," you say, looking up at the ceiling, stupid, frustrating tears forming in your eyes again. Jace sighs and moves to your side, propping himself up on an elbow so you have to look at him.

"Y/N," he says gently. "Of course you are desirable. You are still the most beautiful, incredible woman I know. And it's because you are so incredible that I want to make sure that I don't do anything that puts you in more pain than I know you are already in."

"I promise I will tell you if I am hurting, okay? You don't have to coddle me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," you say, hand on his cheek to bring his lips to yours. "I'm the bitch for complaining about her kind husband." He laughs and kisses your palm.

"You're not a bitch," he says. You kiss him again. "Now please roll onto your side and let me fuck you." You laugh, doing as he says.

"Of course, My Prince."

Jace is at Dragonstone Castle when you go into labor. He has been anxious for the last month, knowing that any day the baby could arrive. He intended to postpone this meeting with the great houses, but you assured him that the babe would not come today. The only thing that kept him to his promise was the fact that Vermax could bring him back to the Red Keep quickly.

When Joffrey bursts into the room, Jace is immediately on his feet, already fearing the worst.

"What is it?" he asks.

"Y/N has gone into labor."

Jace barely spares a glance at the lords around the table. He urges Joffrey along. His brother had the foresight to request that Vermax be readied for when they arrived upon the shore.

The ride is quick, as he knew it would be, but he still urges Vermax along, wanting and needing to be close to you as soon as he can.

When he gets to the Red Keep, he runs up to your chambers, intending to throw them open and run to your side. Instead, he finds that they are locked. He can hear soft discussion, encouragements, but the loudest sound coming through the door is your screaming.

Joffrey followed him to the door and carefully peels him away. "She's alright," he insists. Jace won't be able to agree until he can see you himself.

Together, they sit outside your door for the next three hours. Joffrey doesn't say much, but when your screaming gets louder, or there seems to be a rise in urgency to the voices inside, he puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

It seems like ages have passed when the doors finally open.

He doesn't wait to hear what the Maester has to say. He rushes into the room, his eyes going immediately to your bed. Midwives quickly take away bloodied sheets, and when they clear, he sees you. You are drenched in sweat, your hair matted all around you, and he's not sure he's ever seen you look more beautiful.

"Y/N," he says, as if he's looking upon the gods themselves. You look up at him, your face breaking into a smile. He rushes to your side.

"Are you okay?" he asks, taking your face in his hands.

"I'm okay," you say, laying a hand over his. He laughs. It's a result of the built up tension from the hallway, and he can't stop himself. He laughs as he kisses you, over and over. You laugh, too, and he tastes the salt of your tears on your lips.

"What is it?" he asks, quickly studying your face.

"Don't you want to meet him?" you ask.

"Him?" Jace's face falls in awe.

"Him," you say. You look towards one of the midwives and they bring over the smallest bundle Jace has ever seen. He sinks onto the bed beside you as the babe is placed in his arms.

"Hello," he says quietly. You lean onto his shoulder, looking down at your son with a smile on your face.

"Isn't he beautiful?" you ask, your voice a whisper.

"Yes," he says, his heart still thundering from the surprise. "What have you called him?" he asks.

"I assumed we'd discuss that together," you say, "But I was thinking Lucerys, if that'd be alright." Jace has tears of his own in his eyes. He bites back his smile, unable to put into words what the name means to him, what you mean to him. He nods his head.

"Does that sound good to you, Lucerys?" you ask, your finger touching the blanket over the baby's stomach. He starts to move around, crying out just a little. Like you've done it a million times before, you take Lucerys into your arms and shush him gently.

Jace kisses your temple repeatedly, until you laugh. You turn towards him and kiss him fully, passionately.

"I love you so much," he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"I love you, too."

You stay in that position for an hour or so, Jace holding you, and you holding Lucerys. Joffrey is the first to meet the future heir to the throne, and he kisses you on the cheek when he learns his nephew's name.

When his mother enters the room, Jace doesn't stand, wanting to keep you in his arms forever. She is all smiles as she leans over your opposite shoulder. You sit up slowly, and Jace's arm around you helps guide you upright.

"Hello, little one," Rhaenyra says, taking the child into her arms. You sigh happily, watching her interact with him. Jace can't keep from kissing your face a few more times. He doesn't think he has ever been this in love with you.

"And what is the name of our little prince?" Rhaenyra asks, looking between the two of you. Jace looks down at you, but you nod your head to him.

"We've decided to name him Lucerys," he says simply. Rhaenyra's expression changes immediately, her eyes welling up with tears of her own. Holding Lucerys in one arm, she leans down to kiss you both.

"A fine name," she says through tears. "You did well," she says, looking at you. You smile back, tears forming again in your own.

After a few moments in her arms, she hands your son back to you, and departs, letting the two of you get acquainted to your new family. Neither of you say much. You just watch Lucerys with rapt attention, counting his fingers, and touching his soft patch of hair.

"He's so beautiful," you say quietly.

"He is."

"I don't think I'm ever going to let him out of my sight," you say, looking up at Jace with a smile. He smiles back, but notices the exhaustion on your face.

"Maybe you can for a little while," he says, "Just to get some rest."

"Still so overprotective," you say with a smirk.

"I've got two to protect now," he says, "So if you could just once let me take care of you without arguing--" You cut him off with a kiss.

"I'll try," you say. "But don't either of you leave this room."

"I don't think you could kick us out if you wanted to."

Jace stands with his son in his arms, watching as you lay down. The midwives come back in to check on you and Lucerys, before leaving the three of you alone for the time.

"It's okay, Y/N," he says lowly, when you still haven't shut your eyes, your gaze locked on the two of them. "We'll be here."

"Promise?"

"I swear it," he says, giving you an easy smile. He watches you close your eyes, and in a few moments, your breath falls into an easy rhythm, just like Lucerys's.

Jace looks down at his son. He doesn't want to disturb his sleep, but he wants to tell him, here and now, that he'll always be overprotective. So he makes the vow to himself, just like the one he made when he married you. He is always going to protect the people he loves, even if it sometimes drives them mad.

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction

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k-hotchoisan · 6 months

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under the sheets

making you hide under the sheets in the heat of the moment when Mingi's roommate walks in was the quickest idea, just that it wasn't the brightest, not that you and your pretty little mouth were complaining.

Rating: Explicit (m)

Genres/Warnings: smut, pwp, pervert!Mingi, whole lot of mingi brain rot, size kink, face fuckin, reader has an oral fixation, blow jobs, someone fucking walks in and reader sucks mingi off under the sheets, deep throat, hair pulling, unprotected sex, (kinda) mating press, clit stimulation, orgasms

WC: 2.8K

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtfvs @jeon-ify

🩷stay perverted: the masterlist

Lying comfortably on Mingi’s chest, the both of you are cuddled up as if the bed didn’t have sufficient space. The silence was comfortable too—Mingi glancing over from time to time when he heard your soft giggles at something you saw on social media. Mingi’s roommates are out for the night, so Mingi didn’t hesitate to take the chance to bring you over—it doesn’t happen often anyway.

As the evening progressed, so did your position—from his chest to now you’ve sunk to Mingi’s lap. You were so comfortable with the position.

“You should pick dinner, Princess,” Mingi says, briefly glancing down at you. You switch over to a food delivery app and start scrolling. Halfway through, you roll between Mingi’s legs.

You look up at him, tapping his thigh to get his attention. “What about this?”, you’d ask, showing him your phone screen, in which Mingi nods, taking your phone to place his order. When he passes your phone back to him, he realises that you’re in a rather interesting position—right between his legs.

He cocks an eyebrow.

“You know, Princess, you’re quite in a dangerous position right now”, he offhandedly says, trying to keep his dick from jumping thanks to his newfound realisation.

You tilt your head, acting confused, “But your roommates know I’m here right?”

The funny thing was that Mingi did tell his roommates that you’d be coming over, he just happened to forget to tell them what time you would be over. It would have been all fine if a knock didn’t vibrate through the room before it swung open at lightning speed.

Mingi barely had the time to even think of a decision—he simply pulled the sheets over you, it being big enough to cover the entirety of you, the entirety of the extension of the whole suggestive situation. Mingi wasn’t interested in being teased for the next four months over it.

You remain still, hearing muffled voices. It sounded like San had barged in, but you couldn’t quite make out what he wanted from Mingi. The rest of the conversation doesn’t register in your head—you couldn’t hear them anyway—and you realise your predicament—you’re facing Mingi’s crotch.

And he’s half hard.

Your hands slowly wander to his thighs, teasingly bringing his shorts up with them, exposing the bare, supple, and thick flesh of his thighs. Enticing would be an understatement. Mingi’s thighs jolt slightly when he feels your warm hands smooth across his skin, but he stays still. His hands are out of the sheets, and that was all the more you could and wanted to see how far you could take this.

From the sounds of it, San is still talking to your partner. And then Mingi’s body jumps when your lips are pressed against the inner of his thigh, sucking his supple thighs, to the point Mingi’s hands slide underneath the covers to cup your cheeks to stop. It’s a pity that you’re currently under the covers and that your view is completely obstructed, but the thought of making Mingi forcing himself to stay composed all while he’s helpless, and letting you do whatever you wanted with him? That was more than enough to seal the deal for you.

His cock is slowly growing harder the more you press your hands onto the polyester shorts he wore, massaging his balls, feeling him jerk at every touch—the way his cock only hardens painfully against the fabric, the way his legs slowly spread open as a silent invitation to mess him up even more.

And you’d gladly take it.

“I don’t know. Have you asked Seonghwa Hyung?” Mingi asks back, reminding himself to fucking breathe and concentrate on what San is asking him. Your hands are patting all over his thighs, sliding past the opening of his shorts, soft squeezes on his balls through his underwear short-circuiting his brain. Mingi is gradually sinking into the bed, his body getting greedy.

“Yeah, I did, but he’s not replying me”, San replies. He’s pacing around Mingi’s room. Mingi is wondering why San just doesn’t leave instead of just loitering in his room. That train of thought surfaces because Mingi thinks nothing would benefit San from staying, and definitely not because you’re just teasing the ever-loving fuck out of his hard cock.

Mingi pulls up the covers while San is looking away, dialing Seonghwa on his phone, and Mingi is greeted by you, staring right back at him, hand rubbing against his painfully thick and clothed erection. Fuck.

His eyes are warning you—I don’t think this is a good idea. But it all the more rouses you to want to rile him up—the risk of getting caught makes your cunt leak a little more than usual. You give his cock a squeeze, pressing against the tip of his cockhead, and Mingi shuts his eyes and exhales shakily. You see him mouth fuck from above as his resolve slowly dissipates the more you tease him like that.

Mingi then opts to draw gentle circles on your cheeks before he has to force himself to return his attention to San, hoping that you’d leave his cock alone, at least, until San leaves.

Of course, you don’t, because the moment Mingi looks away once more, you tug the waistband of his shorts, and attempt to yank it off as quietly as possible, leaving his heavy and thick cock resting on his abdomen. You can’t tell what expression or what Mingi is thinking, but you do know that his cock looks delicious as fuck now.

More muffled voices are heard above you, but you’re fixated on wanting to fit his cock into your mouth. You spit on his cock, then pumping his length while you let your tongue run over the base of his dick, teasing his balls as well. Your eyes wander to Mingi’s hands shifting—and he has one hand going under his shirt up letting it ride up, his abs coming into full view, and his other hand reaching out to stroke your hair. Mingi has completely given up trying to stop you at this point, slowly letting himself drown in this pleasure—all while San is still in his room.

You lick a stripe up Mingi’s cock, and you hear his low grunts. He’s shifting, becoming more fidgety.

Then you let your lips rest on the tip of his cockhead, before fitting the entirety of his cock into your mouth, feeling it fill up your mouth to the brim, your hands pushing Mingi’s hips down, taking note of how his abs are flexed. Mingi’s hand tangle in your hair, tugging against your scalp. You choke slightly, freezing in place for a second in case San hears you, before letting his cock rest at the back of your throat.

Mingi pulls the covers open slightly, his eyes are glazed out from the sensation of his cock in your fucking mouth, and the sight of you looking up at him all innocent and trying to keep his fat cock in your mouth without slobbering and evidently failing, only drives Mingi further off the edge. His fingers are tight around your scalp, pushing your head gently down his cock. He’s almost on the brink of just fucking bursting until San snaps his attention back.

“Oh, right, isn’t your girlfriend coming?” San asks, turning to look at his friend. “Also, why the hell is your face so red?”

Mingi’s eyes dart away, his face flushing even more, but he still tries to remain composed, even though the situation he is in nothing but.

He’s barely able to formulate a coherent response, considering his mind is flooding with just wanting to fuck your face underneath the covers while you’re slowly going up and down his wet dick.

“It’s pretty warm”, Mingi answers curtly, his mind completely in the gutter at this point, shutting his eyes uncontrollably when he feels his cock hit the back of your throat once more. Another soft fuck leaves his lips when he feels your lips kiss down his girth, kissing and sucking the base of his cock.

“Riiight. Then I’ll make my leave. Sorry for barging in Min”, San adds, feeling that he was probably interrupting something, but he wasn’t sure what. His phone rings in his hands and he flashes Mingi a smile before he disappears past the door, shutting it close.

Mingi feels like he can finally breathe, pushing the covers off more so he can finally focus on you better. You don’t hesitate to bob your head more freely now, taking his cock in deeper and faster down your throat, and Mingi pulling against your scalp, groaning at the noises you make while you take him.

“Shit. That’s a good fucking girl. Your mouth is such a good fucking hole, babe”, Mingi groans, pushing your head down to take in more, making you choke slightly, but it only rouses you further to make him break.

“You’re so fucking pretty with my cock down your throat like that”, he hums, stroking your hair back, before he sinks his fingers in once more to tug against your scalp, making you moan in response, then letting him just fuck your face seconds later. Strings of curses fill the air as Mingi uses your mouth to reach his high, completely drenched in the pleasure, all while still being able to remind you that your mouth is his favourite part of you to dump his cum in, and that he adores seeing your face stuffed full with his cock.

“Cumming. So fucking good,” Mingi sighs, releasing his grip on your hair, “you gonna be a good girl and swallow it all?” It earns a desperate nod from you, despite the tears streaming down your cheeks and his precum and spit down your chin, because fuck it feels so fucking good to let your mouth be used like this by Mingi.

With a low moan, Mingi’s cock twitches in your mouth, his viscous warm cum trickling down your throat, some leaking past the corner of your lips even as you try to keep it all in your mouth and down your throat. Mingi’s hands are in your hair once more, bucking his hips to get hit the back of your throat, his head pressed into the pillows, eyes shut in sheer pleasure from cumming down your throat.

Mingi catches his breath as you pull away with a pop, dabbing the sides of your lips with the back of your hand. You’re shift to leave the bed, that is, until Mingi grabs your wrist and pulls you back to the bed, quickly trapping you underneath him.

He hasn’t softened.

He stares down at you with a smug expression, one that makes you swallow hard and your cunt pulse.

“Had your fun acting cute?” Mingi asks, narrowing his eyes at you. He presses his thumb at the corner of your lips and watches you hungrily as you take his thumb into your mouth, coating it in your spit, all while not breaking eye contact with you. Once he thinks it’s enough, he trails down agonisingly slow down south, feeling your goosebumps form in anticipation until his finger pauses right at your clit.

Mingi continues, “teasing and sucking my cock while San was in the room, hm? Naughty girl.”

You try to formulate a sentence, but your mind is rendered useless the moment he presses his thumb on your clit, giving it slow, circular rubs. Your hand that grabs onto his wrist out of instinct doesn’t do anything to stop him.

“Couldn’t help it babe”, you reply breathlessly, mind growing hazier by the second the more Mingi massages your clit, squirming from time to time under him. “Needed your cock in my mouth so fucking badly.”

“Fuck. You’ll be the fucking death of me, Princess”, Mingi sighs, his gaze towering over you as your eyes roll back when Mingi lets the pleasure slowly build when your cunt progressively grows wetter with slick.

“Mingi… please. Feels so good”, you whimper, pushing your hips against his thumb, desperate for more movement. Mingi is thinking of teasing you even more—he thinks you’re so fucking adorable when you’re on the verge of begging. But since you had been such a good girl for him, he thinks you should be rewarded.

Sparks start to splatter beneath your eyelids, your moans climbing up in pitch the more his thumb grazes against your clit.

“I’m gonna cum-“, and your orgasm washes over you before you can finish speaking, forcing your eyes to screw shut while it shakes through your body, broken whines slipping past your lips, your cream and slick soaking Mingi’s fingers.

He pulls back, placing his soaked fingers to his lips and sucking them clean with a satisfied smile. Mingi swears he could never get tired of seeing you fall apart under his fingers.

You pant, trying to regain your bearings as your high wears off, only to focus on Mingi pumping his length with his hand. He leans over once more, pushing your legs apart, almost folding you before he slides his thick cock into your hole, fitting in inch by inch, watching the way your pussy stretches to take him. This time, it’s your turn to sing a slew of curses as Mingi fills you up from below.

“Such a good fucking pussy, fuck”, Mingi curses once he’s fully seated in you, watching the slight bulge pushing against your abdomen.

“F-fuck. Mingi, you’re too big”, you squeal, feeling your pussy pulse pathetically against his girth, so fucking perfectly tight in you, his cockhead just pressing onto your spongy spot.

Mingi combs his hair back, biting the inner of his cheeks when he feels you squeeze him. “I’m gonna move now, Princess”, which comes off more as a warning instead, mostly because when he does, you fucking feel everything in your pussy. Mingi goes slow first, letting you adjust to the pace and his size, but the more your cunt is just sucking him in, the more he’s about to blank out, and just make sure your pussy is sore by the end of the night. You barely have the chance to adjust, because Mingi is growing restless above you, and the more he hits your sensitive spots, the more you squeeze him.

“Keep on squeezing me like that Princess, and I won’t be able to hold back”, he cautions, and this time, it is a warning. You only bite your lip and scrunch your eyebrows in reply, the sounds of his hips slamming against your cunt on top of his cock fucking your pretty little pussy being almost enough to just send you over the edge. Mingi’s fingers reach out under your head and he tilts your chin to look at him.

“That’s it. Such a pretty fucking face when I’m ruining your pussy. My perfect little Princess.”

A broken whimper escapes your lips—the way his eyes are just eating you up, making you feel so watched and almost like a prey beneath him while his cock is just hammering into your pussy—over and over again. He places his other hand on your lower abdomen and applies pressure, light, but enough to send stars bursting into your eyelids when you feel the fullness of him leaving and entering you.

“You’re so d-deep-“, you sniffle. You’re not sure how much more you can take.

Mingi only chuckles.

“Maybe the next round, I should have you answer San’s call while I’m balls deep in you since you like being adventurous, hm?”

Your face flushes at the notion of it. Mingi hisses when you clench around him once more. His thrusts are becoming more erratic, and he has his fingers are now around your throat, but he isn’t squeezing.

“Shit. Are you gonna cum again, Princess?” Mingi asks, barely pulling out fully before his cock is slammed right into you again. He watches you give a pathetic nod, then groans when he feels your cunt flutter around him, pulling his orgasm, his cum filling you up to the brim before it slowly trickles down your abused hole.

Your partner leans in to plant a kiss on your lips before he shakily pulls his cock out of you, wet and dripping with a loud sigh.

As he guides you into the bathroom to shower together, you mutter, “I swear I’m gonna be sore for the next few days at least”, which makes Mingi pause in his tracks, and turn back to you. His fingers tilt your chin once more, making sure you have his attention, and then his thumb shifts to swipe your bottom lip.

With a scoff, he reminds you, “wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t decide to be cheeky under the sheets, Princess.”

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pedrospatch · 1 month

Text

run

Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader

*moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only. no mention of reader’s race or skin tone.

summary: When you’re given the chance to run from your captor, you don’t take it.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. MENTIONS PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). reader is described washing her hair (the exact length is not specified) and she wears a dress. she is also shorter than Joel. violence, kidnapping, reader has major stockholm syndrome, Joel is fairly soft for her but HE IS STILL NOT A GOOD MAN, brief mention of Tess and Joel being involved with each other, Tess seems like the villain but she might actually be the only one of these three who is not totally fucked up in the head. SMUT. daddy kink. size difference (no description of reader’s body type, Joel is just a big guy with a big dick, enjoy it). oral sex (female receiving), super risky unprotected p in v sex (mention of reader ovulating, Joel pulls out, don’t be be like these two, practice safe sex), creampie (yeah he doesn’t give a fuck the second time around). many, many pet names (baby, baby girl, honey, angel, sweetheart, little girl). um i think that’s it. oh, and they fuck in the dirt.

PLEASE HEED ALL WARNINGS.

word count: 8.6k

a/n: one thing about me is i WILL soften up EVERY version of Joel Miller to my little heart’s content. HUGE HUGE thank you to @endlessthxxghts and @joelsdagger for lending me their eyes and beta-ing this fic for me last night. <33 i love and appreciate you guys SO MUCH. i loved seeing you both in the doc at the same exact time lmao. this can be read as a standalone, but it is considered part of the captive universe.

Everyone in the group has a job. Except for you.

Or at least, that’s what you hear them say.

That bitch doesn’t do shit.

She never has to lift a fucking finger.

She should work for her meal—just like the rest of us.

Bitterness laces their tones when they talk about you.

Insults grow a little bolder when he’s not around.

Useless.

Freeloader.

Leech.

You might not be out there with a rifle in hand hunting game or invading camps and spilling blood for supplies—but you do in fact have a job, and that job is to make Joel Miller happy. It is your responsibility, your duty, to please him, and to keep him satisfied. Because keeping him satisfied keeps him in a good mood, and one thing you’ve come to learn about your captor is, where there is a good mood, often there is mercy.

Hell, you’re doing them a favor by keeping their violent, fearsome leader in a good mood. Because you’ve seen what he does to them when he’s not. He can be just as brutal towards his own people as he is to strangers.

It doesn’t make a difference, though. They still see you as nothing more than his coddled little whore.

“Fuck, that’s it.”

He groans, his thick, callused fingers digging harshly into the softness of your flesh as he holds you firmly in place underneath him. “Oh fuck, baby girl,” Joel curses through gritted teeth, his hands gripping your hips as he uses his own weight against you, pressing you down into the old mattress until you feel every uncomfortable lump, each creaking spring.

While he isn’t fucking you as roughly as he has on other occasions, he’s hardly being gentle. It’s hard, fast.

Loud.

Joel couldn’t care less about the rest of the group, the men and women on the other side of the wall, forced to listen to the sounds coming from the single bedroom of the cabin he decided they would hunker down in for the remainder of the summer season. Strings of curses and brutish grunts that came rumbling from deep within his chest, pleading gasps and whimpers that fell from your swollen, bitten lips. If anything, knowing they were listening only spurred him on—it didn’t hurt to remind them, especially the men with wandering eyes, that you were his special girl.

His good girl.

You certainly did your job, and you did it so, so well.

“Christ, sweetheart. M’so fuckin’ close—” Joel picks up speed, his hips snapping even harder, faster, the front of his thighs slapping against the backs of yours. Each thrust causes the bed’s rusted, iron headboard to slam violently against the wood panel wall.

You clutch fistfuls of the single, stale, yellowing sheet beneath you, each stroke he delivers knocking the wind out of your lungs, making it harder to breathe. He is so heavy on top of you, this big, broad, bulk of a man who makes you feel swallowed, smothered, and small. Joel takes up so much room inside of you, and it’s a wonder how you could possibly have any space left to spare.

It’s a fullness you can’t seem to get enough of.

It’s a craving, a need.

Worst of all, it’s slowly becoming a want.

“Daddy,” you choke out, fisting the sheet tighter, your skin stretching taut over your knuckles. Can the others also hear the squelch of your drenched cunt around his cock as it begs him for more?

“Fuck. You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, baby,” Joel croons his praise. His hands abandon your hips and he hunches over you, his thrusts momentarily ceasing. He crushes his chest against your sweaty, quivering back and leans forward even further, bracing his large hands on either side of you. Then, his lips move to the shell of your ear and he speaks, his breath blazing hot on your skin. “Y’take me so well, honey. Y’take Daddy’s cock so fuckin’ well. This pretty little pussy was fuckin’ made for me. She was made jus’ for me—ain’t that right, angel?”

He’s right.

Oh, how you fucking hated that he was right.

It was made for him. Your cunt. Your body. You.

Every part of you was made for him, and only for him.

All you can do is nod dumbly in agreement.

“Say it,” Joel whispers his firm command. “Wanna hear you say it. Be a good girl and use your words. Say it, say this pussy is made for me.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan obediently, prompting him to grin against your ear. “My pussy is made for you, just—just for you. No one—no one else. Only you.” Could this really be the same voice that would break, grow hoarse from screaming for him to stop? The same voice that would beg and plead for him to set you free?

Jutting his hips forward, Joel buries himself to the hilt, eliciting a noise from you, something caught between a pained whimper and a contented sigh. His balls, heavy and full for you, rest on your clit, which is still sensitive to the touch after he’d spent a majority of the morning with his head buried in between your legs. Desiring yet another release, you try wriggling around beneath him in a silent plea for more. More, more, more.

Please, Daddy. More.

Joel’s grin widens. He places one of his hands on your soft lower belly, fingers dragging down the slope of it until he finds the slick swell of your seam between your legs where his girth splits you open. “Ready, baby?”

Nodding, you open your mouth to answer him, but the sound of your own groan cuts you off when his fingers firmly circle around your throbbing, swollen bud. “Oh,” you breathe, instantly sinking right into his touch. Your eyes screw shut tightly in pleasure, and you throw your head back onto his shoulder. The scruff of his beard is rough on your cheek, and it burns, the same way it had burned the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

His hips find their rhythm as you rub against his hand—you’re almost there. He knows this, you can tell by the chuckle that thunders in his chest and against your back. But you’re too busy chasing your pleasure to be embarrassed.

He’s made you a needy, greedy girl.

“Daddy,” you mewl, trying your hardest to move under him, to work your cunt up and down on his cock. “I’m gonna come—” You gasp, back arching as Joel strokes in and out, his fingers rubbing your clit with urgency.

Joel plants a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek. “Give it to me, baby,” he grunts. “C’mon. Lemme feel her squeeze me.”

Feeling how close he is too, you try to hold on for just a little bit longer, at least long enough to finish with him, but Joel’s relentless, and you’re forced off of the ledge you’re both standing on first.

Crying out, your walls spasm around him, asking to be filled until he’s made a complete mess out of you, until white leaks, and it slowly dribbles down the insides of your trembling thighs.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel rasps. He lifts himself off you and he pulls out, taking his throbbing cock in his hand. His chest heaves as he fists himself, the wet sound of your slick in his palm filling the room. “Down,” he grits, and you obey him, lowering down yourself on the mattress until you’re lying almost completely flat before him. He gives himself one final stroke just as you look over your shoulder at him, the gentle flutter of your eyelashes the last push he needs. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck—” Joel spills his load, shooting thick ropes of warm cum along the soft curve of your spine.

You rest your cheek on your folded arms, biting back a small sigh.

He’s left behind an ache—you feel painfully empty.

But it was Tess, who had been given the task of helping you track your menstrual cycle, that had given him the warning earlier that morning. “She’s ovulating. Don’t be a fucking idiot, Joel. Last thing we need is for her to—”

“Relax,” he’d gruffed in response. “I fuckin’ know.”

Spent, Joel hunches over you once more and he lightly kisses the top of your head before burying his nose into your hair. “Good girl,” he murmurs. Affection that once was unwelcome and unwanted, that once made you feel sick to your fucking stomach, now makes you feel something else entirely. You’re not quite sure what it is, only that it’s warm. Comforting. “Y’did so well for me, sweetheart. Always do.”

Your lips curl into a faint, tired smile he doesn’t see.

A while later, you find yourself perched on the bed with the sheet wrapped around you, quietly watching as he gets dressed. “Daddy?” you say tentatively as he drops into a nearby chair to pull on his boots.

“What is it, baby girl?”

“Do you—do you think we can go to the creek today?”

Joel finishes lacing his boots and looks up at you.

“I’d really like to wash up,” you admit, softly. That, and you would like to see the light of day. He’d boarded up the windows with slabs of wood—sometimes, if you’re lucky, you get some decent light seeping through the teeny gaps.

“Not today, honey. I’ve got some things to take care of. Supplies are low, we gotta do a run. Don’t have the time to take you.” He stands and picks up his rifle, slinging the strap of it over his shoulder. Noticing the crestfallen expression on your face, Joel’s eyes soften. He walks over and gingerly cups the side of your face in his palm. His thumb strokes your cheek. “Promise I’ll take you to the creek tomorrow, sweetheart. First thing. Alright?”

Nodding, your eyes fall to your hands in your lap.

“Okay.”

Joel kisses your forehead, then leaves the room.

He makes sure to lock the door from the outside, and you can’t help but wonder if he knows locking you in is no longer necessary.

“I can take her.”

Joel’s dark eyes remain focused on the state map laid out on the table in front of him. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about, Tess?” He sees her in his periphery, but is too busy figuring out the group’s best route to look her way.

“I heard her asking you to take her to the creek so she can bathe,” she tells him. “I can take her.”

Finally, his head snaps up and he turns to her. “What?”

Tess leans her hip against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. “You and Tommy can take the group, go and take care of what you have to take care of. I’ll stay behind and take her down to the creek,” she suggests casually, as if she’s not asking him to trust her with his most prized possession—the only damn thing on what was left of this fucking earth Joel Miller actually gives a shit about. “Once she’s washed up, I’ll bring her back to the cabin and put her back into the room. Easy.”

Joel stares at her, bewildered. “What makes you think I’d fuckin’ allow somethin’ like that?”

“Oh, come on.” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Anytime I bitch about having to do something for that girl, you’re on my fucking case about it, and now that I’m offering to do something for her, you don’t wanna let me?”

He shakes his head and lowers his voice. “You’re talkin’ about takin’ her outside, Tess. Without me.”

“The creek’s just a mile away,” Tess reminds him. “I’m pretty sure I can handle getting her there and back with no trouble, Joel.” When he says nothing, she cocks her head to the side and scoffs. “What? You don’t trust me enough to take her under my wing for a couple hours?”

Joel’s lips pull into a tight line.

Of course he does. Tess was his right hand woman, his second in command.

He trusted her more than his own fucking brother. She had never given him any reason not to, had never given him a reason to doubt her loyalty to him. No, his lack of trust has nothing to do with Tess—but everything to do with you. He doesn’t trust you. He will never trust you.

“What if she tries to—?” He can’t even say it.

“Tries to what?” She pauses. “Run?”

His throat goes dry and he gives her a subtle nod.

Joel Miller was a bad man who did bad things, but you were his good. You’ve brought back some meaning into this wretched life of his, gave him something that felt a lot like a sense of purpose. You were something for him to take care of, to keep safe and protect.

Tess raises an eyebrow at him. “You think I’d even give her the chance? Besides, the girl’s not that stupid, Joel. She knows better than to try anything. She knows she wouldn’t get very fucking far.”

“Tess—”

“I’m just trying to do something nice for her. Besides, I think it might do her some good to be in the company of someone else for once—the company of a woman.”

Joel peers at her, taking a minute to think it over in his mind before asking, “You’ll have her back in the room before I get back to the cabin?”

“Long before then,” she swears. “All in one piece.”

He hesitates. He’s still not sure.

It’s then that he remembers that disappointed look on your sweet, pretty little face. “Alright,” he relents with a deep sigh. “I trust you, Tess.”

It always feels a bit strange to be outside.

But being outside without Joel?

It feels even stranger.

When he’d walked back into the room and told you Tess was willing to take you to the creek, the news had taken you by complete surprise. When he said he was willing to let her take you, that you almost couldn’t believe. It hadn’t even sunk in until the three of you stood outside the cabin and he was kissing your forehead sweetly in a temporary goodbye before turning to Tess.

“Never take your eyes off her,” he’d instructed her.

“She’ll behave.” She had smiled at you as she pulled her pistol from the waistband of her jeans, the gleam of the silver barrel catching your eye. “Isn’t that right?”

Swallowing dryly, you had answered with a strained, “Of course.”

She’s the last fucking person you wanted to cross. She was almost as terrifying as Joel, if not more.

“Tess? W-Where are we going?” you ask as you trudge along behind her, hoping you don’t sound as winded as you feel. Although you had no way to keep track of the time, it felt like you’d been trekking for at least an hour. Your feet are starting to hurt in your shoes—old, worn, yellow canvas sneakers that certainly weren’t made for hiking. “I don’t remember the creek being this far from the cabin.”

Tess snorts. “Don’t tell me you’re tired already.”

“It’s just—we’ve been walking for a really long time.”

She glances over her shoulder at you. “Here I thought you would be a little fucking grateful to be out getting some fresh air,” she chuckles, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the path ahead.

“I am,” you squeak, stumbling over a fallen branch.

Silence falls over the both of you.

“We’re not going to the creek,” Tess finally speaks after a minute. “I’m taking you somewhere else. Somewhere even better. Just trust me, kid. Now hurry up.”

It takes another hour before you reach your destination, and you hear it before you can even see it, a humming sound that turns into buzzing the closer you get. Then, you feel it, a vibration in the rocks beneath your feet. “Is that a—?” Stepping around her, your mouth falls open in absolute awe at the sight before you.

The waterfall is nestled right in between the trees and surges over the rocky mountain, throwing up bubbles of spray as it plunges into the lake at the bottom, and from there, it foams into a thick, white lather at the base. On the bank, where you stand, you spot different types of vegetation you couldn’t identify even if you tried—all you know is that it’s green, and it’s beautiful.

“This is incredible,” you gasp.

“Way better than some little creek, huh?” Tess tucks her pistol into the waistband of her jeans and shrugs off her pack. She digs around in the front pocket and pulls out something wrapped in a piece of crumpled brown tissue paper. She hands it to you. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“Well, if you’d fucking open it, you would know,” Tess rolls her eyes. “It’s my last piece of soap. It’s all yours.”

Her kind generosity comes as a surprise—usually, Tess wanted nothing to do with you. But you don’t question it, and you certainly don’t turn the rare luxury down.

“Thanks,” you say, shooting her a grateful look.

Tess nods towards the body of water. “Alright, then. Go on and get to it.”

You take the piece of soap out the tissue. The scent of lavender is faint, but still very much there. Joel will like the smell of it on your skin tonight, you think.

As you start to pull the strap of your cotton blue dress down your shoulder, you feel her gaze fixed intently on you. Heat rushes to your cheeks. “Uh, aren’t you going to turn around?”

“For fuck’s sake,” she scoffs. “I’ve got what you’ve got. Now hurry up, we don’t have all fucking day.”

Nodding, you peel off your dress and underwear, your face on fire as the older woman’s eyes slowly drag over your naked body. Carefully, you step off the bank and wade into the water. It’s so clear that you can count the pebbles underneath your feet.

Leaning against a nearby tree, Tess calls out, “You have ten minutes! And stay out of the waterfall! Last thing I need is for you to fucking drown.”

As she lights a cigarette, you can’t help but stare at her. Her features, though worn down after the hell she had been through trying to survive the post outbreak world, are beautiful. Big, dark green eyes, a perfect nose, and full, pouty lips. There’s never been a doubt in your mind that she and Joel have been involved with one another, and lately, the mere thought of anything between them made you uncomfortable.

It’s an odd sensation deep in your gut—jealousy?

But what were you jealous of? Her having had him first?

It shouldn’t matter to you, but it does. Insecurities you have never in your life felt before seep into your bones.

“Anyone ever tell you it’s fucking rude to stare?” Tess quips, raising an eyebrow at you. She shoves her lighter into the back pocket of her jeans.

Nervously, you sink lower into the water, nibbling the inside of your cheek. “Tess? Can I ask you something?”

“What could you possibly fucking want to ask me?”

You hesitate.

“How—how long have you known each other?”

“Who?” Tess plucks the cigarette from between her lips and flicks the ashes. “Me and Joel?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

She shrugs. “Don’t know. Six, seven years?”

“How did you two meet?”

“Long story that’s none of your fucking business.”

You ask your next question before you lose your nerve. “Have you two ever—?” Unsure of how to phrase it, you stop and clamp your mouth shut in instant regret.

“Have we ever what?” Tess studies your face, and she quickly realizes what you’re trying to ask her. “You’re seriously asking me if me and Joel have ever fucked?”

Biting your bottom lip, you glance down into the water at your feet. You honestly don’t expect her to answer, so when she does, you look back up at her in surprise.

“Yeah.” She takes a long drag from her cigarette, then adds, “Few times.”

Something unpleasant claws at your insides. “You two were together? Like a couple?”

“Something like that,” Tess mutters, flicking her ashes once more.

“What happened?”

She looks at you, pausing before answering, “You.”

Oh.

Before you can utter another word, Tess snaps, “Quit asking so many goddamn fucking questions and finish up washing. You’ve got eight minutes left.”

Not wanting to push your luck further than you already have, you do as she tells you in complete silence.

You lather up the soap in your hands, washing your hair first, and then your face and body, using your hands to scrub yourself as best as you can. Between the calming scent of the soap, the soothing sound of the waterfall, and the warm afternoon sun, you find yourself relaxing. You try to clear your mind, live in this peaceful moment which you very well may never get again, but your mind begins to wander.

And it wanders straight to Joel.

Closing your eyes, you can’t help but picture him here, standing behind you in the lake. You can almost feel his hands on you, long, thick fingers lathered with lavender soap, sliding down your body. His lips at your neck, he cups your breasts in his hands, rolling his thumbs over your hardened nipples until your head lulls, falling back onto his shoulder. Joel drags his hands further down, over your stomach, going lower and lower towards the place where you need them the most. “Yeah, baby?” he murmurs into your neck, dipping one of them between your legs until you are, quite literally, in the palm of his hand. “This where y’need me?”

Breathless, you respond, “It’s where I want you.”

Suddenly, your eyes snap open.

There is a wetness between your thighs, one that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re standing waist-deep in the middle of a lake. You shake those thoughts away and finish washing yourself.

“Time’s up,” Tess calls. She meets you on the bank with a dry rag. “Here.”

The rag doesn’t exactly cover much surface area, but you dry yourself off as best you can before tugging on your underwear and slipping on your dress. Just as you crouch down to slip your shoes on, she tosses her pack and it lands in front of you with a soft thud.

Confused, you glance up at her.

“There’s about a week’s worth of jerky in there. Longer, if you know how to ration,” Tess explains, calmly. “And a canteen for water. I also packed you a flashlight and a pocket knife. It’s not much, but—”

Frowning, you rise to your feet. “What are you talking about, Tess? What’s going on? Why are you giving me your pack?”

“Because I’m giving you a chance, kid.”

A feeling of dread pools in the pit of your stomach.

“A chance to what?”

“Run.”

Your heart stutters a beat. “Run?”

“He’ll come looking for you. You need to get as far away from here as possible. Run away, as far as you can, and don’t fucking look back.”

All you can do is stare at her in shocked silence.

“I can help you get a head start,” Tess offers, quietly. “I can show you which direction to go in and put you on a path leading to the closest state highway—”

“But what if I don’t want to run?”

Tess places her hands on her hips, and she exhales an incredulous laugh. “Jesus,” she breathes, shaking her head in pity. “He’s really got you fucking brainwashed, doesn’t he?”

You glare at her. “I am not brainwashed, Tess.”

“You’ve gotta be if you’re telling me you wanna go back to him.”

“Tess—”

She cuts you off. “He gave the order to raid your camp and kill your people,” she reminds you. “He fucking slit your father’s throat right in front of you, then took you as his prisoner. He made you his fucking sex slave.”

“He takes care of me! He feeds me, makes sure I have a bed to sleep in no matter where we are. He keeps me safe. He—he cares about me.” You will your voice not to tremble as you stand your ground. “No. I’m not running away, Tess. I want to go back.”

Tess sighs. “You’re really not gonna make this easy, are you?”

“Take me back,” you all but demand, your hands curled into the least menacing little fists she had ever seen in her life at your sides. “Take me back to the cabin—take me back to him, Tess. I mean it.”

Amused, she huffs through her nose. “Or else what?”

“You can’t make me run away, Tess.” As you take a step towards her, she reaches behind her and swiftly whips out her pistol from the waistband of her jeans. You halt, freezing in fear when she aims the barrel of the gun at your chest.

“Actually, I can,” she says, her finger hovering over the trigger. “So here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna walk away now. And if you even think about following me, or trying to find your way back to the group, you will die.” She tosses you a tiny, wry smile. “Believe it or not, I’m doing you a real big favor, kid. Problem is, he’s got you so fucked in the head that you can’t see it.”

“Tess, please,” you plead. “Don’t do this to me!”

She begins to back away. “Remember when you’d say that to him? How you’d beg him not to do those things to you every night? Beg him to let you go?”

“Please, just take me back to him!”

You start to follow her.

“You take one more fucking step and I’ll shoot you,” she threatens, her eyes darkening. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Tess keeps her pistol pointed at you until she slips into the trees and disappears, abandoning you in the middle of the forest.

He’s furious. Livid.

Joel paces back and forth on the porch.

“Where the fuck are they?”

The old, rotting wood that wraps all the way around the cabin creaks, and certain softer spots bend and buckle, threatening to give way beneath his heavy boots. Joel’s younger brother leans against the railing, which is just as fragile, an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“Christ, Joel. Can you fuckin’ relax?” Tommy grumbles, fishing around in his back pocket for his lighter. “You’re gonna bring the whole damn cabin down if ya don’t cut that shit out.” He sparks a flame and lights the filtered end of the cigarette. He takes a long drag, and exhales the smoke through his nose. “You’re gettin’ worked up over nothin’, brother.”

“S’almost sundown, and they’re still not fuckin’ back.” Joel shakes his head. “Fuckin’ knew I shouldn’t have let Tess take her. Somethin’ happened, Tommy. I just know it.” He lifts his shirt and reaches for his pistol, pulling it from the waistband of his jeans. “M’gonna head to the creek myself to find ‘em. Ain’t gonna sit around on my goddamn hands and wait for it to get fuckin’ dark.”

“She’s with Tess. M’sure the girl’s fine—” Tommy stops, his eyes widening slightly. “Well, hell.”

“What?”

Tommy jerks his chin over Joel’s shoulder before taking another slow, casual drag of his cigarette. He savors the last few seconds of peace before shit inevitably hits the fan and his brother unleashes his wrath on anything, or anyone, in his path.

Joel whips around and his stomach sinks, his blood ice in his veins when he sees Tess approaching the cabin. Alone.

Both his mind and body go numb. It’s a jarring shock to his nervous system, and it takes him a minute or two to fully process the fact that you’re not with her.

“Joel,” Tess says his name carefully as he descends the porch steps and walks towards her. “I need you to take a breath, alright?”

“Where—where is she?” His voice breaks, his weakness momentarily slipping through the cracks.

Not that Tess didn’t already know you were Joel Miller’s weakness, his soft white underbelly, the only vulnerable part of his hardened self that could be penetrated—you would have been his downfall. As much as she’d like to say she did what she did solely for your own good, she also did it for his, and for the sake of the group as a whole.

It needed to be done.

He stands in front of her, a ticking time bomb about to go off.

Prepared to face whatever consequences of the choice she had made, Tess tucks her gun away and sighs. “You need to take a breath—”

Joel snatches her arm, his fingers digging into the flesh above her elbow. His emotions hit him all at once.

Fear, worry, anger. It’s the third that takes precedence, and before Tess can utter another word, Joel yanks her forward. She crashes against his chest so hard that it knocks the wind out of her. “Where the fuck is she?” He leans down, his nostrils flaring as he brings their faces the closest they have been in almost a year.

“Joel, take a fucking breath—”

“Where. Is. She.” His grip on her arm tightens with each word he bites out through his teeth. He’s vaguely aware the others have piled out of the cabin, gathering on the porch to watch the altercation.

“She ran,” Tess explains, calmly. She doesn’t falter, not even as his fingers sink deeper into her skin, promising her painful bruises which will take days to fade away. If he decided to let her live. “She ran away, Joel. I turned my back for one fucking second and she was gone. She even took my fucking pack. I tried going after her, but it was no use. She was too fast.”

Behind him, Tommy snorts. “She outran you?”

Her eyes momentarily flicker to him. “Her knees are a lot younger than mine,” she replies, flatly.

“Which direction did she go in?” Joel demands. When Tess doesn’t immediately respond, he shouts, “Which fucking direction!”

Tess manages to snatch her arm out of his grasp. She glowers at him, hissing, “What the hell does it matter which direction she went? You won’t fucking find her.”

His eyes meet hers, and he sees it. Feels it.

She’s lying to him.

“Tess.” Joel’s voice drops dangerously low. He studies her face, his brows creasing with suspicion. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do shit, Joel. She fucking ran away.”

Without warning, Joel takes her by her throat. His other hand brings his pistol to her head, shoving the barrel of it against her temple. His nose touches hers. “Now, tell me why I have the feelin’ you’re not tellin’ me the whole truth?”

Tess lifts her chin. She searches his eyes, a sharp ache shooting through her. After everything, all the hell they had been through together—he would end her life, put a bullet in her because of you? Did she mean that little to him?

Or maybe she’d never meant anything to him at all?

She’s not sure which stings more.

“Because you’ve fucking deluded yourself into thinking that she willingly wants anything to do with you,” Tess finally answers. “That’s why.”

He ignores the burn of her scorching words.

“Where the fuck is she, Tess?”

“If she’s smart, she’s far away from here by now,” she hisses. “I did everyone a fucking favor, Joel. That girl is just another fucking mouth to feed. And what if you get her pregnant? That’ll be another one. Not to mention, a crying baby could draw unwanted attention and get us all killed. Ever thought about that? She’s not an asset to the group, she’s a fucking liability. Besides, I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’re all fucking tired of hearing you ra—”

Joel digs the barrel harder into her temple, his finger hovering over the trigger. “Listen to me. You’ve got ten seconds to tell me where she is, y’understand me?”

“Or what? You’ll blow my brains out?” Foolishly, Tess chooses to call his bluff despite not knowing for certain whether or not he’ll actually pull the trigger. “Go ahead, then. Kill me, Joel.”

His finger twitches over the trigger, but he doesn’t pull it. He can’t fucking pull it. Not on her. Not on Tess.

Still in his hands, she sags slightly in relief.

Swallowing harshly, Joel Miller lowers his gun and does something she’s never seen him do before. He begs.

“Tess, tell me where she is,” he whispers. His pleading is subtle, and only she can hear it. “Please—just fuckin’ tell me where my girl is.”

Tess stands her ground and says nothing.

Releasing her, Joel shoves her aside and with nothing but his gun in his hand, he sets off to find you.

“Ow, fuck!”

You gasp, quickly lifting your bare foot off the ground.

You’d stepped on something sharp—a stick, or maybe a rock?

In a desperate attempt to try and keep up with Tess’ tracks, you had stupidly left behind your shoes back at the waterfall. But the mere seconds you had spared by not stopping to put your shoes on hadn’t given you the advantage you thought it would. She had moved much too fast, and within minutes, you’d become helplessly, hopelessly lost. Every tree and every bush, they all look exactly the same, and for all you know, you’ve probably been going around in fucking circles for the past couple of hours in your search for her footprints in the dirt.

Sagging against the trunk of a nearby tree, you take a minute to try and catch your breath, to give your poor little feet a break from hiking over fallen branches and jagged stones.

Your head falls back, eyes gazing through the canopy of trees. Dusk has settled in, and nightfall is on its heels. It was foolish of you to leave behind your shoes, but even more so to leave behind the pack she had given you—in the pack were all the things meant to help you survive. Knife, flashlight, food.

Sure, you can survive a night out here in the wilderness without any of those things—but then what? Come dawn, what do you do? Where do you go? Do you just stumble around in the woods and hope for the best? Pray you’ll make it onto a highway with signs that will point you to a quarantine zone?

Hell, maybe you’re overestimating yourself. Maybe you wouldn’t survive long enough to worry about your next move. Howls in the distance remind you there’s wildlife out here, dangerous predators that come out after dark in search of their next meal. Or what about infected? It wasn’t unheard of for them to veer off the highway and lose themselves in the trees.

You recall your first few weeks in Joel Miller’s hands.

Escaping them was all you could ever think about, even though the chances of you surviving alone were slim to none, just like they are now. Never having been on your own, death would have been inevitable—but back then, in your darkest moments in captivity, you wished for it. You’d welcomed the idea of starving, freezing, or being torn apart limb from limb by an entire hoard of clickers. At least then, you’d die with your freedom.

Almost a year later, that wish has been granted.

You’re free.

You may very well die, but you would die free.

Closing your eyes, you think about Joel. His arms, that once held you down—held you still—as he did all those things to you without your consent, are arms your heart yearns to have wrapped around you, holding you close.

“Jesus,” you grit, a tear rolling down your cheek.

Maybe Tess had been right. Maybe he really does have you fucked in the head.

Joel was a monster. He had taken everything from you, including your innocence. He’d defiled you in ways you hadn’t known were possible. He was a terrible, terrible man.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you fed.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you warm.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you safe.

Another tear slides down the side of your face. What is fucking wrong with you?

You don’t know. But what you do know is, the thought of never seeing Joel again is somehow more terrifying to you than the thought of dying even the most brutal of deaths.

A loud rustling sound brings your train of thought to an immediate, sudden halt, and your eyes wrench open.

It’s darker now, but you manage to catch a movement in the shrubs, only mere feet in front of you. Panic flares in your chest, it rattles you to your very core, and even though every nerve in your body is urging you to move, you freeze, your back flush against the tree trunk. Your fingernails dig painfully into the bark as you watch the shrubs part down the middle, and a tall, hulking figure emerges with a heavy grunt.

At first, you think it’s just a figment of your imagination showing you what you wanted to see—a hallucination. Blinking furiously, you lightly shake your head, and then take another look at him. Your breath hitches when you realize it’s Joel.

He stares at you in the same manner, as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re real, or if his mind is playing a cruel, cruel trick on him. Feet cemented to the forest floor, he watches you take a small, tentative step towards him.

Once adamant that you’d never look him in the eye, you find your gaze locking directly with his as you carefully take another step closer. Then another, and another.

“Joel?” It’s the first time you’ve ever uttered his name.

He seems as taken aback hearing it as you are saying it.

“Joel.” It rolls off your tongue smoother, and with more ease the second time around.

It sparks a flame somewhere deep, deep inside of him, a fire that burns differently than those ignited by carnal desires.

No, this is something else entirely, and you feel it too.

“Baby?” he whispers hoarsely. “S’that really you?”

“Joel!” you cry, hurling yourself into his arms.

Joel’s gun falls from his hand and he curls them around you. Burying his nose into your hair, he inhales deeply. The scent of you, the feel of you—you’re fucking real.

Shuddering with sobs of relief, your arms wrap around his waist, and you cling to him as if you’re clinging onto dear, precious life itself.

“Hush now, s’alright,” Joel soothes, cradling the back of your head in one hand, while the rubs soft, calming circles into your back. “I’ve got you, honey. M’here.”

“I swear I didn’t want to run away,” you explain through your tears. “I begged her to take me back to you, Joel, I really did! But she left me out here—she said she would shoot me if I tried following her back. Please, you have to believe me, you just have to believe me!”

He squeezes you harder against his chest. “I do, baby. I do believe you,” he assures you. Pulling away, he takes a step backward and takes your face between his palms, peering at you in concern. “Y’hurt, sweetheart?”

“No,” you hiccup, curling your hands around his wrists. Your lower lip trembles. “I—I thought I’d never see you again. I was scared I wouldn’t,” you admit, softly.

Joel’s thumb wipes away a fresh tear. “M’here now,” he murmurs. “You’re with me, baby. You’re safe, alright?” As a late evening breeze passes through, he lets you go and shrugs out of his brown jacket. He goes to drape it around your shoulders, but you snatch it right out of his hands, then toss it aside.

Something in you snaps. You take fistfuls of his flannel, pulling him down towards you to do yet something else that takes you both by surprise—you initiate a kiss. You lean forward and press your lips to his, a little swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip as you clutch tighter at his shirt, holding him in place. Groaning, Joel opens his mouth more, his tongue brushing yours.

Liquid heat pools in your belly, and before you realize it, you’ve grown frantic, kissing him with fervor. Releasing his shirt, you slide your hands down his chest, over his stomach, lower and lower until you find his belt buckle. Desperate, you clumsily fumble with it, and that’s when Joel tears away from you, his breath hitching.

You’re begging before he can even say a word. “Please. I need you—I want you. Right now.”

You cup him through his jeans, and he exhales sharply.

“Fuck.” Without giving it a second thought, his hands reach for the straps of your dress, pushing them off of your shoulders. He roughly tugs at the material, letting it slip down your body until it falls around your feet. In a tangle of limbs and tongues, you both sink to the forest floor. Your hands brush his buckle, and he catches your wrists. “Not yet, baby girl. M’still in charge, alright?”

Sheepishly, you nod.

“Say it.” His command is firm, but somehow still gentle.

“You’re—you’re in charge.”

“Good girl.” Joel guides you onto your back. He’s over you in a second, swelling your lips with a hard, hungry kiss that leaves you dizzy and breathless. He moves his mouth, teeth scraping over your cheek and jaw, down to your neck where he nips at the tender, delicate flesh over your pulse point. Then, he bites his way over your collarbone and to your shoulder. “Bet she’s already wet for me,” he mumbles into your skin. “Ain’t she, baby?”

Pushing himself back onto his knees, he slides a finger over your clothed cunt, eliciting a small gasp from you. Hooking his fingers under the elastic waistband of your cotton underwear, he yanks the fabric down your legs. It catches on your foot, your wetness smearing against the inside of your ankle.

You’re drenched.

“C’mere,” Joel grunts, sliding his hands under your ass and pulling your hips over his thighs. He leans over you once more, your bare, throbbing cunt rubbing against the crotch of his jeans. He tuts lightly into your neck as you buck against him. “Such a fuckin’ needy little girl.”

Desperate, you try rolling your hips into his. “Joel.”

“Kinda like it when y’say my name.” He starts making his way down the length of your body. “Think I’ll like it even better when you’re screamin’ it. Won’t I, baby?”

Your stomach tightens as he nibbles his way down your neck again, teeth scraping over your clavicle and down your chest to your heaving tits. Taking one in his hand, the other goes into his mouth—his tongue is scorching hot over your nipple. He licks the pebbled flesh, sucks it and bites it while he rolls the other peak in between his thumb and index finger. “Oh fuck,” you gasp.

Releasing your breast with a wet pop, Joel sinks further down your body. He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your tummy, leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake. He stops over your mound and hovers for a fraction of a second before pressing his nose into the silky soft curls there. Inhaling deeply, Joel picks up the subtle, herbal scent of the lavender soap you had washed yourself with. “Fuck, y’smell so fuckin’ good.”

He pushes your thighs open, pinning one to the ground with his hand while the other goes over his shoulder. Your foot slides down his back, toes curling despite the fact that he hasn’t even reached the spot where you’re aching to have him most. Heart thundering, your blood rushes, roaring in your ears.

Joel turns his head, his lips brushing your inner thigh in another kiss. “S’this where y’want me, honey?” he asks you. Goosebumps erupt over every inch of your skin as he draws closer, his breath like steam on your core. He glances up at you, his cock twitching against his zipper at the sight of you laying naked before him on the floor of the forest. Willing. Wanting. “Hm? Right here?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”

Thankfully, you only have to ask him once, and then his face is buried between your legs, and he is giving you what you want.

“Fuck!” you cry out. Back arching, your head tilts back until the crown of it meets the ground, leaves and twigs finding their way into your clean hair.

Joel’s tongue flattens over your cunt in a broad stroke, then dips between your folds, collecting your slick with a harsh groan, one that sends a bone-rattling vibration throughout your entire body, from head to curled toes. His mouth opens wider—a starving, greedy man trying to eat you whole. Sliding his tongue over your clit, Joel seals his lips around it, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until it swells in his mouth.

High-pitched little cries and whines spill from your lips. Your hands shoot down, fingers tangling themselves in his dark, graying curls, eliciting a grunt from him when you tug at his roots. “Joel, fuck,” you choke, your nails scraping against his scalp. He slurps and swallows your wetness, the sounds drowning out those of the night—the chirping of crickets, the croaking of frogs, the soft hooting of owls are washed away until all you can hear is him devouring your pussy.

Your body starts to tremble, and you know you’re close. Joel does, too. He feels your thighs twitch, threatening to close around his head, but he wrenches them further apart with a muffled but firm, “No.” He drapes his arm over your pelvis, his large hand splayed on your belly.

Relentless, he sucks your clit, gliding his tongue over it, again and again until the muscles in your lower tummy tighten and you burst at the seams, unraveling into his mouth. Warm slick gushes out of you, a sweet mess he licks clean. You choke back sobs of pleasure, your body tensing, vision blurring with every stroke of his tongue, each scrape of his teeth over your clit.

Joel lifts himself onto his knees with a grunt and gazes down at you—his good girl, sweet and pliant and ready to be fucked full of his cock. His hands slide his belt out of its brass buckle, eyes still trained on you as he pops the button of his jeans and yanks down his zipper.

Your mind is fuzzy, still syrupy and dripping—it doesn’t fully register what he’s doing, not until he climbs back over you and you his hard cock brushes your thigh, hot velvet that sears the inside of your leg. Precum smears your flesh.

“Y’feel that? Feel what you fuckin’ do to me?”

“Joel.” Hands shaking, you reach for the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin on yours. You whine when he catches both of your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. “Your clothes—”

“Stay on.” Ducking his head, he nips at your pulse point and mumbles, “Tell me what y’want, pretty girl.”

Joel shifts over you, his cock now resting on your lower belly, thick and heavy and leaking.

You squirm under him, hips coming off the ground, that hollow thing inside of you begging to be filled.

“Use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what y’want.”

“You, Joel—I want you. Please, please, please—”

He hushes you.

“I’ve you, baby. I’ve got you,” Joel promises. He wraps his other hand around himself, dragging the head of his cock along the seam of your puffy folds, up and down—he elicits a ragged little gasp from you when he grazes your clit and his fingers tighten around your wrists. He coats himself in your slippery slick until he’s glistening with it, and then he gives a slow roll of his hips, working himself into you.

Your mouth falls open. No words come out, no pleas for more—only jerky breaths, pathetic little pants for air as you take it.

Joel’s cock throbs, pulses like a heartbeat as your cunt welcomes him home. He presses his forehead to yours. “She’s always so fuckin’ sweet to me.” His voice is low, rough gravel. His eyes meet yours in the dark blue glow of the forest, and he savors the last moments of seeing your pretty face before the last traces of dusk are gone. Brushing his lips to the corner of your mouth, he feeds you his cock inch by inch, murmuring, “That’s it, honey. Good fuckin’ girl.”

You melt around him at his praise.

Releasing your wrists, he moves his hand, placing it on the crown of your head. “Ain’t ever lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he swears. “Alright? Never gonna be apart from me again, baby girl. Never. Y’understand me?” He curls his other hand firmly around your jaw, his fingers sticky with you and him. “Do you understand me?”

“Never,” you repeat, softly.

Joel kisses you, deep and slow, almost sweet. Tender. He breaks away, his lips hovering right over yours as he pushes his hips forward, bottoming out inside you.

Moaning, your hands grasp at his shoulders. Your legs widen further to accommodate the breadth of his hips.

“There y’go.” Joel presses deep within, until your belly feels hot and full. “That’s it, baby. Good girl,” he coos, drawing his hips back, then rolling them right back into you. He takes one of your ankles and tosses it over his shoulder, giving himself a better angle to fuck into you.

A loud cry tears from the back of your throat. “Joel!”

He grins in the darkness. He knew he’d like hearing you scream his name.

Joel’s hand settles on your leg that’s over his shoulder, your thigh already shaking. “Y’gonna be a real good girl n’ give me another one?”

You try to answer him, you really do, but your mind falls further and further away.

His fingertips sink into your thigh. He strokes in and out of you, never retreating more than inches at a time so he keeps you full. Stuffed. “Christ. Takin’ it so fuckin’ well,” he croons, moving your leg off of his shoulder so they are both wrapped around his waist. Hunching over you, he bears down hard, using most of his weight. He almost chuckles at the little oof that puffs out of you.

Rocks and twigs dig painfully into your back, but all you can do is feel him. How close he is.

You’re right there with him.

“Joel—fuck, I’m gonna co—”

You’re cut off by your own sharp gasp.

“That’s it. C’mon, honey.” Joel slips his hand between your thighs, his fingers firmly rubbing your clit. “C’mon, baby. Be a good girl and come on my cock—”

It rips through you like an electric current, a shockwave that has you clawing at the dirt. You come crying Joel’s name, crumbling into a whimpering, quivering mess.

Within seconds, he’s swept away by the same tide.

“Baby,” he groans, dropping his head into the hollow of your neck. He goes still and lets your tight cunt clench at him, gripping his cock as it throbs, pulses, empties into you. After a minute, he brushes a kiss to your neck before mumbling, “My sweet girl.”

Joel makes no move to pull out of you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your soiled fingers toy with the soft curls at the nape of his neck, shattered breaths slowing and piecing back together.

You gaze up through the trees at the night sky, feeling the safest you’ve ever been with the earth at your back and your whole world on top of you, his cock buried in your cunt.

Tess is right. Joel Miller really does have you fucked in the head.

You’re certain of it when you make the realization with a smile.

divider credit to @/saradika 🖤

for fic notifications please follow @joelsgreysupdates!

#why yes #i AM going to queue this to post when i am dead asleep #captive!joel #dark joel miller #dark! joel miller #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent #tw noncon #tw dark fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #fic: run

2K notes · View notes

riminiscensce · 24 days

Text

5 + 1

CHARACTER ... kinich

SYNOPSIS ... 5 times Kinich protected someone, and 1 time he felt protected

NOTES ... a kinich fic because what the fuck was that backstory bro CUT MY GUY SOME SLACK 😭

CONTENTS ... sfw , kinich-centric , spoilers for kinich’s character stories , gender neutral reader , can be read as platonic

Word Count ... 3367

1) His mother

From before he was seven, Kinich always remembered waking up to the smell of breakfast his mother would have ready at the table.

Being the child that he was, he never fully understood how his mother was able to do it; to wake up before the sun could even rise, and still last long enough to make it past through sunset.

Having a mother like her made Kinich feel included within the small group of kids that would pass by their house once in a while.

The one they would often talk about is how their mothers would always be up early in the morning to prepare delicious food for them. Kinich, though not a part of their conversation, felt like he could empathize with them.

He felt connected with the other children because of his mother.

Then the children started to talk about how close their own mothers were with the others. That they would have family dinners, share advice, talk about their family…

That was the one thing that separates his mother from the rest.

Kinich always felt a stinging pain in him whenever he would watch his mother farm by herself.

Instead of like the mothers other kids have, his mother was different in a way that she would spend most of her time on her own.

At that age, Kinich was already aware of the reason as to why this is.

If it was not for his father's behavior, his mother wouldn't have been ashamed of talking about her family to their neighbors.

She wouldn't have to spend her time alone, dreading the moment her husband comes through the door with that sickening smell of alcohol and another empty pouch of Mora.

That's why he took it upon himself to be there for her.

To share the same silence as she did when no one else would.

Kinich had a particular quietness around him, the same kind his mother had; it was one of the things he remembers about her.

But there was a time when they talked while they were farming.

Most of their conversation was starting to grow torn and forgotten in Kinich’s memory. But there was one thing that his mother said that always stuck with him as he grew.

“Thank you,” His mother once said with a heavy hand on his unkempt hair, and a somber look on her face that one could only give to her protector.

When he first heard this, Kinich felt content, like he had done the right thing. He felt like he had saved his mother from ever truly being lonely.

But that would be the first and last time he felt that way with her.

Things only went downhill when they were forced to move out of their house and into the mountains because of his father’s betting addiction.

Then his mother left them—left him.

It was something that never comes up between him and his dad.

Looking back, Kinich thinks of his mother’s abandonment as the payment for the care she has given him and his father.

But he was just a child then, of course he wouldn’t have decided on an answer of his own back then.

So he asked someone else.

2) His father

It was his seventh birthday when it happened.

Kinich couldn’t have waited for a better timing than this. His father likely knew of his birthday, and so he might be more lenient with him for the day in return.

That could’ve been what happened.

Instead, a pair of bloodshot eyes drilled their way into his own—it felt so different to the eyes that he inherited.

Then the next thing he knew, he was running past trees, his father closely behind him, yelling drunken curses that a child should never have heard.

It was the waves of adrenaline that saved Kinich from being caught in his father’s violent hands, weaving through the thick bushes and trees while avoiding the wild saurians that were scattered around the area.

It was also that same adrenaline that made him fail to notice the sudden absence of his triggered father.

Only then was he forced to stop and look around.

It wasn’t until he reached the edge of a cliff did his jittering get replaced with trembles.

His father was at the very distant bottom, his inflamed eyes matching the color of his blood splattered around him.

Looking back, it was the only time that Kinich almost cracked out a drop of tear.

When he made his way down, he was no longer greeted with the enraged glare of his father. What remained of his expression was only of shock. There were no signs of regret or guilt of what he had done prior to his death.

But Kinich can never be truly mad at his parents.

He grew up with his father, and he was usually the one that brought home enough Mora to feed the three of them plenty.

And to add more, it started raining.

The rain helped with washing the blood away and with imbuing the sight he was seeing.

Kinich could only think of carrying his father’s corpse back to their house. What else can he do anyway?

If his dead body remained there, it would get washed away or land on a starving creature’s plate.

So he decided to repay his father one last time and protected what remained of him.

It was a tiring trek back home.

3) K’uhul Ajaw

Kinich has formulated this understanding that anything can be done with Mora as an exchange, no matter how risky or dangerous the commission may be.

He is willing to do any favors, be it simple or treacherous, all for the right price.

But there was a time Kinich bypassed this ethos of his.

An organization dedicated for saurian research came up to his doorstep, asking to buy this relic he found in an unearthed ruin in exchange for a sum of Mora.

There were many pros in this proposal, and merely only one con.

Kinich could live comfortably for the next few months with that amount of Mora without having to worry about receiving another commission, he could even last to about a year if he remains humble with spending.

If he gave the relic to the association, it would stop them from bothering him ever again. Kinich would go back to a life without having to confront a desperate bunch of researchers.

And to add more to that, it would get rid of this nuisance that calls itself K’uhul Ajaw from ever causing trouble for him again.

Those advantages he had listed off were nothing but tempting to Kinich, luring him into tossing that wristband into the association’s business and going off to return back to his normal life of being a lone wolf.

The only thing stopping Kinich was the thought of Ajaw going absolutely rabid without him around.

He tells himself that that was the only con there was, not because he had already formed a pact with Ajaw, but because he would get involved with threatening matters if Ajaw goes wild.

As much as he tries to stay excluded from other people’s business, Kinich was human enough to at least concern himself with this possibility.

It would be a tragedy if people from different tribes were to be a victim of someone so awful as Ajaw after all.

All it took was a glare from Kinich, saturated with enough indignation that the researchers could feel it and eventually welcome themselves out of Kinich’s door.

It wasn’t even long before Ajaw awoke that Kinich suddenly regrets his decision.

Looking back, maybe he should have given K’uhul Ajaw to the association after all.

Oh well, he figures life would be more clement with him now that he made a choice to protect Natlan from this ancient dragon, if that’s how it even works.

4) “Uthabiti” Kachina

When Kinich first saw an enlisted job to sabotage a kid because their Wayob regarded her potential, he wondered how low those lowlifes could possibly achieve.

Ever since he saw that commission, he hasn’t paid much mind to it. The tribe leader of the Children of Echoes was a deferential man after all, he wouldn’t let a child get hurt by others simply because they were envious.

Then he saw this bullying in action.

Kinich only caught a glimpse of one final shove to the poor kid before the rowdy bunch willingly left, trailing only mocks and insults.

He eventually came to the assumption that Kachina was just selfless.

Not in the way that she would let others vent their frustration to her, but because she doesn’t want to bother the people who do care about her.

This assumption of his came into precision when he heard it from Kachina herself. She didn’t want to worry the people around her, and instead took the oppression as a means to get stronger and be more independent.

That’s what Kachina wanted, to rely on herself.

A thought came into Kinich’s mind, a rather debatable thought but, in a way, Kinich could see himself in her shoes.

Kinich grew up having to rely on himself for his own livelihood, and Kachina wants exactly that, to bring less concern to the people she doesn’t want to concern.

He had also dealt with a fair share of bullies in his childhood. Whenever they striked, Kinich never really fought back, that was another thing he and Kachina have in common, though his reasoning was far less modest than that of hers.

He knew Kachina would never fight back, and that will fuel more enragement to those haughty buffoons.

So instead, he took it upon himself to act on her behalf.

It was one of the few situations when Kinich would throw away his preference for Mora.

This simple action of standing up against someone would have a far more personal approach for Kinich. He just wanted to do what he didn’t back then.

When doing so, a wave of satisfaction would come crashing against him at the sight of Kachina's struggling bullies.

That was it, that was his payment, to know the feeling of contentment if he did teach those bullies a free lesson.

And while at it, he protected a different version of his younger self from having more problems to deal with.

Looking back, the worst thing Kachina’s bullies had gone through was Ajaw’s nonstop degrading.

In a way, they at least had a taste of their own medicine.

5) “Malipo” Kinich

He always had to look after himself.

He took in his mother’s nature at farming, remembering the way she neatly handled the crops and applied that to his own way of farming for his food.

Like his father, he was the one who provided Mora for himself. But unlike his father, he knows about restraint and how to spend it wisely.

He has honed his fighting capabilities enough to not make him so dependent on a vision or an enigmatic wristband.

And of course, he relies only on himself.

He relies on this grown version of him who has seen and witnessed many things as he continues to grow older, a young man who inherited the ancient name of Turnfire.

Because of this, nobody knows much about him, much less knows about the little boy that remained with him from his early childhood.

It acted as a little consciousness, one so small that he could so easily fall asleep if it ever yelled at him.

But there were some nights when he would stay up at the smallest wails of this consciousness of a little boy.

Some nights, he wonders not about what went wrong, but what could have gone right.

It was something that he shouldn’t have brought up, what use is dwelling in the what-could-have-been anyway?

He isn’t an all-knowing being to change and weave through the past, he can’t fix it, he can’t abandon it.

He isn’t entirely certain if he can make it better.

But he can salvage and protect what good was left from it.

He doesn’t want to look back or look forward, he just wants this little boy to continue existing, to continue burning longer enough to keep him warm and alive.

Because what would he be without it?

+1) You

People usually come to Kinich whenever they want something deadly to be accomplished.

It was the usual get rid of rogues in the area, get rid of wild saurians, get rid of wandering automatons…

What they don’t come to Kinich for is when they need help to cook dinner.

You were the first to ever commission him for something so uncomplicated as this.

He had just been resting up in a tree during dusk when he felt the knocking of pebbles against the trunk. When one pebble hit him, it suddenly stopped.

When he looked down, he saw you, an apologetic gesture on you as you swiftly tossed away the remaining rocks in your hands.

Then you waved your hands to him, urging him to come down.

When he did, the first thing you greeted him with was a proposal. “Can you help me prepare dinner?”

Kinich would’ve been taken aback at the simplicity of the commission. You could probably ask that to your local elderly and they would agree with no payment required.

Then he starts thinking of another explanation, maybe you had meant gathering ingredients, or help with cooking for a large serving of people.

But he knows you, you live alone, and there weren’t currently any celebrations within the tribe that required a feast.

Was your request really that simple?

Then, you offered him a pouch of Mora.

Along the way to your house, Kinich held onto the Mora and to the silence the two of you shared. It wasn’t at all alike to the ones he shared with those unwilling of his company, this time, it was completely mutual, like there was no need for a conversation despite the odd request.

It wasn’t long before the two of you arrived at your front door, while twisting the lock with a key, you brought up a question to Kinich.

“Hey, what do you think I should eat, vegetables or meat?”

Kinich’s reply was fairly simple. “Whatever you have more ingredients of.”

He thinks his answers weren't up to your expectation when you gave him a look of discontent. “I have plenty for either,”

He wasn’t entirely sure what answer he should pick simply from this. He has an inkling suspicion that you would still feel the same if he were to pick one over the other.

“Then, both?” He was convinced that his uncertainty was obvious from his tone.

But it didn’t seem to mind you as you broke out with a satisfied smile at his answer. “Alright then. Help me gather some vegetables from the garden.”

When you led him outside, Kinich was surprised at the amount of crops you grew. The size was practically the same as he had at his place, and you even grew some that others wouldn’t typically have in their garden anymore.

Gathering farm crops with you was a quiet experience. The kind he was so familiar with as a kid that it felt like he was reliving the moments he had with his mother.

If it weren’t for the cold gusts of wind that evening, Kinich would have been fooled into thinking that he had gone back to that exact moment of his life.

He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something comforting about seeing another pair of hands in the corner of his eyes.

The quiet consciousness started to become a bit more audible, enough to make Kinich realize that he could start hearing the crackling of firewood.

It had been a while since the last time Kinich cooked with someone in a homey kitchen before.

The last he could remember was with Elder Leik, and that had been years ago when he was still a young teenager.

This time, instead of his elderly hands, it was yours that occupied the busy counter beside him. The sound of sliced ingredients dropping down onto the simmering water filled the area of what would have been just him.

The moment he stopped working the knives through the vegetables, his eyes would find their way to you, beside him.

Completely mindful of your own business, humming a catchy tune as you gently mixed the ingredients in the pot. He was sure he had heard of that tune before.

Probably during one of the rare moments when his mother would break the silence between them, emerging with a simple, yet unforgettable melody.

Yes, that was probably it, his little consciousness confirms it to be so.

Like another piece of firewood had just been tossed in, the air around him started to become warmer than usual.

When the food had been served on your dinner table, Kinich figured he had finished his job.

“Where are you going?” He was about to leave the house.

“I helped you prepare dinner, my job is finished.” At this, your head seemed to have been afloat in the air for a while.

You then cracked into a small laughter. “Ah, right, I did say that.”

With that, you left the table and disappeared into some room within the house.

Kinich was about to use this time to leave the place, as he was about to put a glove back on, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Turning around, he sees you, holding another pouch of Mora in your hands. “Can you help me finish all this food?”

It was purely instinct at how his hand already accepted the payment before even processing what you had meant.

But just like how you are, you don’t further explain as to why, simply walking back to the table and taking a seat. Kinich noticed another plate laid out beside you, like you had intended for him to eat with you.

Well, an odd request still serves the same as a normal one.

So he walks back to the table, taking a seat and grabbing a humble serving of food.

The first bite of the meat stew felt weird.

It tasted different, different than how he would usually do it at least.

You cooked this, it was a subtle reminder that other people have their own preference when measuring their seasonings and what they put in the dish.

It was a simple reminder that he didn’t cook this by himself, someone was there with him.

The more spoonful he ate, the more fuel was fed to the fire of his little consciousness.

It had been a while since he had dinner with someone with such normal circumstances.

He realizes all of this was part of the what-could-have-beens that slipped into his mind during one late night.

He could have experienced gathering crops until late at night with his mother, hearing her hum a quiet melody while they cooked, and sitting around the dinner table along with his father… It could have been those.

But what’s the use of residing in it? He already made up his mind to not look back.

“Hm? Something wrong?” Your voice suddenly became more distinct in Kinich’s thoughts. “Oh no, were the seasonings a bit off?”

Without having answered, Kinich diverts his eyes to the nervous fidgeting of your hands. The same pair he saw in the corner of his eyes when cooking and gathering ingredients.

The same pair that have unknowingly hovered over his little consciousness’s fire, feeding it more and more kindlings to make its voice more evident.

It was strange, somehow he felt like the little boy left of him had just been preserved—protected even.

Like how a pair of hands would wrap around the faintest of flames to keep it burning, to keep it hidden from the harsh winds but still not so much that it would be forgotten.

Just enough to know that it’s still there.

Don’t look back, but don’t forget either.

Kinich then answers you. “It’s sweeter than what I usually have.”

rimi’s notes

can I just say how bad I felt when reading his story bro like what the fuck

but I hope yall enjoy cuz I definitely did when writing this lowkey

hearts / reblogs / follows are very much appreciated !

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kinich x reader

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nebulaafterdark · 2 months

Text

A Marriage For Love

Summary: When Y/N and Aegon receive news that they cannot wed, they flee King’s Landing for a simple life in Bravvos. Upon returning to visit their families, they find themselves face to face with the consequences of their actions. Cheesy, targcest, idiots in love. Based off this request.

“We mustn’t allow them to carry on like this!”Alicent shouts.

“I agree,” Rhaenyra says, heartily. “Keep your son away from my daughter.”

“Keep your daughter away from my son!” Alicent bites out. “She should begin preparing for her marriage to the Lord of the Riverlands as Aegon should be spending more time with Helaena.”

“Mayhaps there is a simpler solution.” The King sighs, with a hand to his head.

“What is it you suggest, father?” Rhaenyra wonders.

“We might betroth Y/N and Aegon.” He smiles, looking between his daughter and wife.

“You may betroth my firstborn son to her…plain featured daughter when I am cold and in my grave.”

“Alicent!” Viserys roars.

Aegon wastes no more time listening to them quarrel, setting off in search of Y/N. He finds her in the library, as she often is. “Y/N,” he kneels before her chair. Closing the book and using his finger against the binding to hold her place.

Y/N looks up at him. “What is it?”

“There is something I must tell you.” From the time they were small, Y/N has been the one to hold his secrets.

“Speak it,” she squeezes his wrist.

“Only moments ago my father offered to betroth us, our mothers rejected the proposal. They want your hand for some River Lord and mine for Helaena.”

“No.”

Aegon cups her face in his hand. “Come away with me. We can build a new life, together. It may not be as lush, but it will be ours. You will still have your cakes as they please you, I swear it.”

“You would do that for me?”

“I would do more for you and worse.” Aegon smirks.

“Well…what shall I bring?” Y/N asks, ignoring the pang of guilt in her chest.

“Pack sparingly, a change of clothes or two. We’ll need gold and jewelry to trade; enough to get us started.”

“Where will we go?”

“One of the free cities,” he decides, “no one will be looking for us there. And it does not have to be forever, long enough for us to get married. If we’ve a child, they’ll have no choice but to honor our union.”

“Alright,” Y/N swallows.

“Go now,” he presses his lips to her forehead. “Meet me at the dragon pit in one hour’s time.”

The princess nods, nuzzling against him for just a moment before they break apart.

By the time anyone comes looking for them, Y/N and Aegon are long gone. Leaving behind only a note.

‘If you will not allow us to marry for love, we will do so elsewhere.’

King Viserys is so distraught at the news, he passes with the shock of it.

Rhaenyra takes her place as Queen, refusing to rename her heir.

————————————————————————

Life is different in Braavos, no maids, dragon keepers nor castle. Aegon cuts his hair up to his chin on the day of their wedding, freeing himself from the memories it holds.

There are rumors of course, about the town baker and his wife, the tailor, who may or may not be the long lost prince and princess. Their dragons do nothing to disprove these whispers, however they do stop them from reaching the Red Keep.

Years pass, news breaks that Y/N is with child, growing rounder by the day.

After a long day’s work, Aegon is exhausted, shucking off his boots near the door of their humble abode and bringing his wife an offering of sweets.

Y/N smells Aegon before she sees him, calling out from the kitchen, “what have you brought me today, husband?”

“What if it were for me, spoiled thing?” Aegon chuckles, lying his offering on the counter to wrap his arms around her. Their babe kicking at his palms.

Y/N reaches back, cupping his cheek. “Best turn about and fetch mine then.”

He smiles, pressing kisses to her shoulder. “How is our little dragon treating you?”

“Well enough,” Y/N sighs, stirring the broth. “I have not wretched this day.”

“That is good.” He pats her belly. “I brought you cake.”

“What kind?”

“Dinner first, my heart.” Aegon insists.

“Or I could have cake for dinner.”

Aegon sighs, as she leans into him.

“Please?”

“Very well.”

Y/N turns to face him, abandoning her cooking in favor of his kiss. “Thank you.”

————————————————————————

Bringing their love into the world is a long and grueling task, Aegon keeps her spirits up as best he can. Unfortunately there is only so much a man can do for a laboring wife.

Y/N is exhausted by the time she delivers the afterbirth, fighting sleep as she nurses their newborn daughters. A task she deems horribly painful in itself.

Aegon strokes her hair, whispering words of love and encouragement until the babes are satisfied. “You rest now, I will bathe them.”

His wife does not protest, allowing her heavy eyes to close.

Neither of the twins cry, until gods forbid he sets them down. “Shh,” Aegon hushes them, taking one in each arm. “Papa put you down for only a moment, surely you cannot be held at all times.”

The babe on the left yawns, stretching out her little arms. The babe on the right merely blinks at him.

Until they learn to crawl, Dahlia and Visera are indeed held at all times.

————————————————————————

By the time their sons are born, Y/N often tells stories of her family back in King’s Landing. Her mother especially, who she wishes to meet them.

Aegon returns from the dragon’s nest with two new eggs, one for each of their boys. “Stormborn and Sunfyre are thoughtful, they deliver us clutches in pairs.”

Y/N smiles, from their dragons came an egg for each of their children. “Let’s see.” She waves her husband over.

Their eldest son, Laenor, toddles toward him, pointing to the bright golden egg, “mine.”

“Ah, ah, hold on just a moment now.” Aegon says.

“Please?” The two year old pouts.

“Yes, alright.” Aegon sets the dark blue egg down beside his wife and youngest son. “We must be careful with it now, sit in Papa’s lap. We’ll hold it together, hmm?”

Laenor claps his little hands together, reaching up for his father.

Aegon backs up to the arm chair, holding the egg above his head, “climb up.”

Laenor furrows his brow, crawling into his father’s lap.

“There we are, my boy.” Aegon holds the egg infront of him, allowing Laenor to touch the egg’s scales.

“Look, Papa.” He points.

“I see, my love. Soon it will be a little dragon, just for you.”

Laenor squeals in delight, “Mama, look.”

“I see it, sweet boy. That is a lovely egg.” Y/N grins.

Dahlia and Visera play happily on the floor with their own dragons, still small enough to tote about.

At all of six months old, Aegon the fourth has no understanding of the word gentle, he slaps at the egg like a drum.

“Aegon!” Y/N can’t help but laugh, moving him away. “You must be kind to your dragon.”

“Him fly!” Laenor tells his brother, who merely stares back at him with a toothy grin.

“Yes, he will fly.” Aegon smooths down the curls at the back of his son’s head.

“When your uncle Joffrey, was born Ser Harwin took Jace, Luce and I down to the dragon pit to find the perfect egg.” Y/N recounts, with a far off look in her eyes. “He must be a man grown now.”

Aegon clears his throat, praying he does not live to regret what he murmurs next. “What if we went to visit your mother?”

“Well…” Y/N sighs, patting her son’s legs as he climbs over her. “We couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Aegon challenges, “it’s a short trip on dragon back.”

Y/N stares down at her hands, “my mother must be very angry at me.”

“My mother was never anything but angry with me.” Aegon chortles, “Rhaenyra will get over it.”

“Are you certain?” Y/N frowns, “I know how you detest court.”

Aegon nods, “for you, the world.”

————————————————————————

Word spreads through the streets of King’s Landing like wildfire. Princess Y/N and Prince Aegon have returned to them.

Daemon is the first of their family members to cross their path, all but dragging Y/N to his wife in the throne room.

“You wait here,” he barks at Aegon. Leaving him outside with the children. “Princess Y/N Velaryon,” Daemon calls upon their entrance.

Rhaenyra moves to stand.

The king consort leaves them to it.

“Your grace, I would first like to apologize for my long absence.” Y/N says, as her mother stalks toward her; expression unreadable.

Rhaenyra pulls her daughter into her arms, cradling the back of her head. “You must never do that to me again.”

“Mother,” Y/N cries, clinging to her like a child. “I am so terribly sorry.”

“Shhh,” Rhaenyra sways her. “We can still make this right.”

“I should like that very much.”

“You need only say the word and I will have your marriage annulled.”

“What?” Y/N withdraws, “no. You cannot annul our marriage, it’s been consummated…several times over. We’ve children.”

“Children?” Rhaenyra sucks in a breath.

“Two daughters and two sons.”

“Might I see my grandchildren?”

“Of course,” Y/N holds up a finger, dashing over to the throne room doors and inviting her family inside.

The children scamper in as Rhaenyra’s eyes well with tears.

Dahlia stares at her grandmother in wonder, while Visera clings to Aegon’s leg.

“This is my mummy,” Y/N tells her children, “remember how I told you?”

Laenor moves toward her first, waving his hands.

“Well hello, my prince,” Rhaenyra bends down to greet him. “Who might you be?”

He smiles, “up.”

Rhaenyra huffs a laugh, taking him into her arms. “That’s quite a name, Prince Up.”

“It’s Laenor,” Y/N says, bringing Dahlia closer, with their hands clasped together. “This is Dahlia.”

“Good morrow,” Dahlia smiles.

“Good morrow, Dahlia. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Rhaenyra beams, “if you could put in a good word for me with your sister, it would be much appreciated.”

“Visera is shy.” Dahlia whispers, “but she will come round.”

Aegon the fourth kicks his chubby legs, squirming about in his father’s arms as they approach the Queen.

“My goodness.” Rhaenyra turns to him, “what a warm welcome.”

The little boy squeals, as Y/N takes him from Aegon, freeing his arms for Visera, who hides her face in his shoulder.

“And this is Aegon, the fourth.” Y/N smiles, presenting him to her mother.

Rhaenyra grins, “hello, sweet boy.”

He covers both eyes, with his little hands, babbling loudly.

“You are a delight.” Rhaenyra reaches a hand out, tickling his belly. “I should like you all to join us in the grand hall for supper tonight. We will feast, in your honor.”

“Mother, we did not prepare clothes for a feast.” Y/N tells her. “But if you’ve material, I will make do. In these past years, I have learned to stitch quite well.”

“And I could assist in the kitchens.” Aegon offers.

Y/N’s eyes light up, “you must taste his baking, mother. It is divine.”

Rhaenyra shakes her head. Not sparing a glance at her half brother, “you are my guests. I will have gowns and robes sent to your rooms. You will find everything as you left it.”

Y/N smiles, “we’ll see you for dinner then.”

The Queen nods, excusing them.

Y/N and Aegon lead the children away from the throne room, up the stairs toward Y/N’s old apartments. Meeting her younger brother and his heavily pregnant wife on the stairs.

“Sister?” Jacaerys blinks at her.

“Jace!”

“My love, might you find Luce and Joffrey?” Jacaerys asks of his wife. “Tell them our sister is here.”

“Of course, husband.” Baela leans in as his lips brush her cheek.

“You’re going to be a father?” Y/N grabs for his arm.

“I am a father.” Jace grins, “this will be our third.”

“Has it been that long?”

“Some seven years, sister.” Jacaerys looks to the children behind her. “And you,” he laughs, “have more to show for it than I do.”

Again Aegon is left standing off to the side as Y/N’s family fuss over her and their children. He is glad for it, surely. This is her dream, not his.

“Aegon?” Alicent gasps at the sight of him.

He turns to her slowly, “Mother?”

The Dowager Queen grimaces, “a word?”

“But of course.” Aegon steals one last glance at his wife and children before following his mother down the corridor. For a moment he thinks she might embrace him, until she grabs his face harshly between her fingers.

“What were you thinking?” Alicent seethes, “taking off like that? Putting your father in such a state of distress; his illness took him not even a day after receiving word that you stole his only granddaughter and heir to the throne.”

“Stole her?” Aegon huffs a laugh, “I did not steal her.”

“Did you not think for one second of the shame it would bring on your siblings, or me?”

“As you thought of my wants when you promised me to Helaena?” Aegon spits back.

“It was expected of you,” Alicent seethes.

“Only my supposed wrongdoings are ever clear to you.” Aegon scoffs, “so strike me for it, as you always do and let us be done with it. How dare I desire to marry the one person in the world who loved me?”

Alicent recoils as though he’s slapped her.

“Aegon?” Y/N calls for him, “where’ve you run off to?”

“I’m just here, darling girl.” Aegon replies, striding away from his mother.

“Is everything alright?” Y/N asks, holding a hand out to him.

“All is well, my dearest love.”

————————————————————————

Dinners at the Red Keep have not been this tense in years. Namely because the Blacks and Greens rarely break bread together.

Jacaerys’ and Baela’s children dance with their cousins as the quartet plays merrily, the six of them becoming fast friends.

Y/N laughs, pointing toward their eldest son. “Look, my love.”

Aegon leans his head closer to hers peering around his brother. Laenor spins round in circles until he is dizzy enough to fall over. When he is able to stand, he goes straight back to it. Aegon chuckles, “we’ll need to keep an eye on that one.”

“Without doubt.” Y/N remarks, bouncing Aegon the fourth in her lap. He grabs a fistful of her mashed potatoes.

“Oh my,” Aegon grabs his hand, wiping it clean with his napkin.

“You’d like dinner too, wouldn’t you?” Y/N says, turning the boy toward her.

Little Aegon coos at her.

Aegon presses a kiss to his son’s cheek.

“Won’t you excuse me for a moment,” Y/N addresses the table, “I need to feed him.”

“We’ve nurses,” Daemon offers. “You’re welcome to finish your meal.”

“That’s quite alright,” Y/N says, pushing away from the table. “We’ve survived without nurses thus far.”

Aegon catches her hand, “will you return or shall I bring the children up when they are through?”

“I will return, shortly.” Y/N squeezes his fingers before moving down the row of chairs into the hall.

Aegon clears his throat, as other occupants of the table eye him, warily. “Lovely meal.”

“Indeed,” Otto agrees.

————————————————————————-

Y/N wakes the next morn to rays of sun shining through the large window of her childhood bedchamber.

Aegon feels her begin to stir, tightening his hold around her waist.

“What did your mother say to you yesterday?”

“It is far too early to raise this matter, my heart.” He grumbles.

Y/N huffs, toying with his fingers. “She was awful to you, wasn’t she?”

Aegon presses his lips to her shoulder, “it matters not.”

“It matters to me.”

Days pass, Y/N does not press the subject. Though she does exercise every opportunity to glare at her mother by law.

They spend afternoons in the courtyard garden, with their children. Picking flowers to make crowns, finding shapes in the clouds.

“Just there I see a rabbit.” Visera tells her mother and father.

“Where?” Aegon cocks his head to the side.

“There’s the ears and there’s its tail.”

“Oh, I see.” Aegon spots it, “that’s quite a coat of fur on him, hmm?”

Aegon the fourth plucks petals from the wildflowers Dahlia weaves together, sighing as she does.

“What troubles you, my love?” Y/N asks, passing a hand over her silver waves.

“Everyone has been so kind and happy to receive us…though no one seems happy to receive father.” Dahlia says, taking one of the flowers and tucking it behind her Papa’s ear.

“That is the way of things, my darling.” Aegon smiles, sadly.

“We are happy to receive him.” Y/N insists. “Give father a big hug.”

Laenor sees the pile of bodies, throwing himself on top of his elder sisters.

“Squeeze him as tightly as you can and say ‘I love you, father.’”

“I love you, father!” Even Aegon the fourth chimes in, with a loud approving babble.

“I love you too.” Aegon tells his children, wrapping his arms around them.

“I think if no one is kind to you, we ought to go back home.” Visera whispers to him. “It needn’t be the way of things.”

“Too right you are, my darling.” Y/N breathes.

“Y/N, might I have a word with you?” Rhaenyra calls out to the courtyard.

“Of course, your grace,” she smiles, looking to her children. “Keep father company for me. I’ll return shortly.”

Rhaenyra leads her farther into the gardens. “When you were a girl, your grandsire and I would bring you here to watch the changing of the leaves.”

“I remember.” Y/N says, wistfully.

“I owe you an apology,” Rhaenyra takes her hands. “For many years, I thought Aegon stole you away from me. I blamed him, for the death of our father.”

“It was not his fault, mother.” Y/N insists, “I wanted a marriage for love.”

“I see that now.” Rhaenyra assures her. “He is a fine husband to you and a good father to your children. I should not have pushed so relentlessly to end your union.”

Y/N shakes her head, “all is forgiven.”

“Even in our years apart, you have remained my heir. As I believe you would be a great ruling Queen, if that is what you desire. I will provide your children places of high status in court. For Aegon, a seat at the small council.” Rhaenyra offers, “and of course, my sincere apology for the way I have acted.”

“You wish for us to stay?”

Rhaenyra cups her cheek, “very much so.”

Y/N looks down at her wedding ring. “I know Alicent has been unkind to him. I will not stay in a place where he’s treated poorly.”

“I will speak with her.”

“And…I fear Aegon holds little interest in the small council.” Y/N admits, “I hope that too is negotiable.”

“All things are,” Rhaenyra assures her.

Taglist: @donalesaa @spacexdrago @shadowrose13-blog1 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @niyahnotnia @oh-you-mean-me @lycaonpictusphotography

#house of the dragon #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon ii #aegon imagine

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honeybubblebeeeeee · 2 months

Text

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

Pairing: Sylus x reader

Tags: mostly fluff, some suggestive content

A/N: LMAO ik I’ve been MIA forever a lot happened BUT lnds has restarted my brain rot so I’m boutta get REAL ANNOYING HAHAHAHA this game has me in a chokehold

Sylus the man that you are 😩

Sylus had been gone for a few days. It shouldn’t have bothered you but it did.

You didn’t know where he went or when he’d come back. Mephisto was gone, even Luke and Kieran had disappeared.

It didn’t feel the same going out into the N109 zone without your second shadow. You haunted the Onychinus base. More specifically Sylus’ wing of the base.

You couldn’t stop yourself from walking into his room one exceptionally lonely night. Or from going into his closet and sneaking his soft grey sweater that you’ve only seen him wear maybe once. It smelled like him.

There was something blossoming between the two of you. Your distaste for him had slowly dissolved. After everything he did to help you it was hard to hate him.

Lately the two of you had become more intimate. There were more soft touches, sneaking glances, many almost kisses but there was some sort of barrier, a line both of you seemed hesitant to cross.

Wearing nothing but his sweater and some underwear, as it went almost down to your knees, you curled up in his bed. It made you blush to think about the time you were trying to steal the brooch from him. After he had evaded his handcuffs and pinned you to the bed, you two had been so close to doing something.

It quickly got ruined when Luke and Kieran came barreling in and then everyone was blushing. Sylus some how kept a nonchalant face.

The softness of his silk sheets and comfortable mattress lulled you to sleep.

Movement in the room started to rouse you. Rubbing your eyes against the soft glow of a lamp, Sylus’ large figure came into view.

“Sorry darling I didn’t mean to wake you.” You squeezed your eyes shut, having a hard time adjusting to the light. Sylus chuckled softly and brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

His touch vanished, you squinted trying to see where he went. As your vision cleared, you watched the way his deft hands made quick work of the buttons on his shirt. As he laid it across the chair beside him he turned and made eye contact with you.

A smirk played on his lips as he stalked over to you. He sat down beside your head and cupped your cheek. “Don’t you have your own bed kitten?”

You sleepily giggle, your eyes fluttering closed again. His touch was soothing and warm. “And this sweater looks quite familiar. I think I have one just like it.” His hand left your cheek and went for your exposed thigh.

Sylus massaged the soft skin and slowly you felt the sweater rise with the warmth of his touch as he came to your hip. He gave the area a squeeze before pulling the sweater back down. “Not only do you lay in my bed and steal my clothes but you’re also wearing practically nothing underneath.” A deep laugh sounded from his chest. “Maybe I should leave more often.”

Your eyes opened and your mouth fell into an O. “That’s not nice.” Dramatically you pouted, jutting out your bottom lip. Sylus only smirked and flicked it before standing up and walking into his closet.

He came back out moments later in just his underwear and you couldn’t help but eye him. His steeled abs flexed as he moved about the room. The scars on his skin glowed like stars against the lamp light.

“You’re staring.” His crimson eyes flared a little brighter as he stalked toward you. Your eyes couldn’t help but flick down to the bulge of his underwear.

He laughed as he slid overtop of you and hovered to get a good look at you. Your skin heated against his gaze. The sweater you wore suddenly feeling too hot. As you reached out to touch him he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“Bed time for such a sleepy kitten hm?” He stood up and grabbed your hips pulling you to the edge of the bed. Squealing he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

You kept a strong grip around his neck as you snuggled into his skin. Sylus always smelled good. It was addicting. One strong arm gripped your ass as he pulled back the blankets on the bed before laying you back down again.

He released you ready to pull away but you kept your grip around his neck, refusing to let him go. Sylus chuckled, the sound vibrating deliciously throughout your body.

“Come on darling. I’ll lay with you.” Huffing you started to release him. Quickly you planted a kiss on his cheek before he could pull too far away. He kissed your forehead in return. Hesitating at the way you licked your lips but he still pulled away.

Sylus flicked off the light. Dousing the room in completely darkness. You couldn’t see him but you could hear him walk around the bed and pull back the blankets. You stayed facing away from him as he got settled.

There was a moment of silence no movement or words. His hands came out of no where, gripping your hips and pulling you back against him. A giggle passed your lips, he tightly wrapped himself around you, resting his chin on the top of your head.

You squirmed in his hold, pushing your ass against him as innocently as you could.

“If you keep doing that, the last thing you’ll be doing is sleeping sweetheart.” His voice brushed your ear sending a chill down your spine.

You didn’t feel like sleeping anyway.

#love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus #lnds sylus #lads #lads sylus #lnds #lnds x reader #lads x reader

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ghostfacd · 11 months

Text

𝙄𝙉 𝘼 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙇𝘿 𝙁𝙐𝙇𝙇 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙀𝙉, 𝙃𝙀’𝙎 𝘼 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x fem!slytherin!reader

genre: fluff, sweetheart enzo, brief suggestive content, enzo is a big softie basically

summary: in a world filled with men, there’s lorenzo berkshire, a sweetheart and gentleman

Lorenzo Berkshire was a sweetheart.

Everybody knew that the down to earth Slytherin couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted to, and weirdly did not fit the stereotypical mean Slytherin persona despite hanging with Draco and his friends.

In fact, a lot of things that Lorenzo did were out of the ordinary for his crowd of people. Whenever Draco would pull a first year by their backpacks so their bodies would fling back, Lorenzo always muttered an apology after, offering the first year a cookie the next day. It was just who he was; he was a sweet boy, and that often meant he was also very clueless.

Sure, he was smart in his classes, but in everything else? Lorenzo was practically the virgin of all virgins.

“Her eyes are up here Enzo,” Pansy teased, watching as Lorenzo’s eyes finally shifted off your chest to look at Pansy in the eyes.

“Huh?”

“Well I know they’re nice,” you tease further, “but it’s rude to stare, y’know.”

“Oh,” Lorenzo’s eyebrows furrow, clearly confused. He’s either great at playing the dumb role or he genuinely has no idea what you and Pansy are inciting.

“What do you mean?” Lorenzo then moves his hand over to touch the gold colored necklace on your neck. “I was just looking at the new necklace you got. It’s nice.”

Oh. You didn’t think anyone would notice your new necklace. You bought it over the holidays when you went back home with your family, and had just started wearing it now.

“Thanks Enzo,” you say, placing a kiss on his cheek. He pulls back flustered, but he mutters a you’re welcome under his breath.

“LO BOY!” Lorenzo is quickly pulled into a headlock by no other than Draco Malfoy, who seems to find his friend struggling hilariously funny. “Oh what’s wrong Lo? Got your head in a knot?”

“Boys.” You and Pansy mutter, rolling your eyes as you both get up from your seats, heading to the much more quiet Great Hall.

- - -

The next time you see Lorenzo is in your Potions class. He’s on the left of you, and you’re almost falling asleep at the boring lecture of your professor. He always seem to talk more than actually teach how to mix potions.

“Pssst,” Lorenzo mutters to your partner as he hands her a slip of paper. “Be a peach and pass it to Y/N?”

Your partner, who has developed a little crush on Lorenzo only blushes, accepting the piece of paper and tapping you on the shoulder.

“Here,” she says, “it’s from Lorenzo.”

Your eyebrows quirk up, slowly unfolding the crinkled paper.

Your hair is pretty today

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile. Lorenzo just knew how to swoon a girl over, didn’t he? He doesn’t even have to try and your knees would still feel weak.

So my hair isn’t pretty on other days?

You scribble down, passing it back to your partner who passes it to Lorenzo.

His eyes grow wide when he reads it, opting to shake his head quickly.

“Not what I meant,” Lorenzo mouths.

“I know,” you mouth back, giving him a smirk. “Thank you Enzo.”

And you both end up more pink than the potions that were made in class that day.

- - -

“What do you even do in your free time?” Theodore asks, poking Lorenzo’s cheek repeatedly to annoy him. “Like read?”

“Like read?” Lorenzo mimics back. “Yes, I read. You should too Teddy, it’d be good for you.”

Theodore rolls his eyes, “I don’t need to read. And don’t call me Teddy.”

When you arrive in the dining hall, Theodore and Lorenzo already make a space for you to sit in between them. Usually, Pansy and Draco would be sitting across from the three of you, but today, they were off doing Godric knows what.

“Pans and Draco not here today?” Lorenzo asks, still focusing on the assignment he was finishing up before dinner ends.

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. “No idea what they’re doing.”

“Oh,” Theodore chuckles, “I have a few ideas.”

That makes the two of you burst out laughing, and Lorenzo finally looks up from his paper.

“What?” He asks. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh Enzo,” Theodore places a hand on his friend’s back, “never change.”

Lorenzo rolls his eyes, shrugging Theodore’s hand off. “Whatever that means.”

When Theodore finally heads off to the Slytherin common room, you and Lorenzo are left alone, the small conversations of the other students surrounds the two of you.

“Working hard on that assignment,” you say quietly to Lorenzo, bringing up your hand to pull a few strings of hair that were poking his eyes.

“Well someone’s gotta be the smart one in our friend group,” he says teasingly.

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not smart?” Your hands start to wander, coming to each of Lorenzo’s sides to tickle him. He was especially ticklish around his abdomen.

“H-hey! Stop that!” He laughs, pushing your hands away. “Okay okay, we’re both the smart ones.”

“And Pansy,” you add.

“And Pansy.”

- - -

When you walked out to the lake that sat across from the Slytherin common room, you didn’t expect to find Lorenzo feeding the ducks. He was crouching, softly throwing a few pieces of crushed up bread at the ducks that now surrounded him.

“What are you doing Lo?” You ask, walking beside him.

“Not too loud,” Lorenzo says, “you’ll scare them away.”

He continues doing what he does before he runs all out, deciding to finally turn to you and throw an arm around your shoulder. “Evening.”

“Evening Enzo,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was out of habit, and you did it regularly, but it didn’t stop Lorenzo from blushing every time it happened.

“I was feeding the ducks,” he explains, although it was pretty clear what he was doing. “I like them, they’re nice and pretty. Draco sometimes throws rocks at them, so it’s kind of my way of apologizing for him.”

You ruffle Lorenzo’s hair slightly, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “Oh Enzo, you sweetheart.” But he doesn’t hear you, instead, choosing to admire the scenery of the lake.

- - -

“You know what’d be funny?” Mattheo says, already laughing before he could get out the rest of his sentence. “If we pied the girls. Pansy and Y/N.”

Lorenzo’s ears perk up at this, but he keeps quiet. Why was his friends always looking to get into trouble?

“They’d totally kill us,” Theodore comments.

“That’s why we have to do it.”

The boys had already gotten two pies and their plan figured out before Lorenzo could stop them. He watched as they hide it behind their backs, approaching you and Pansy who were both engrossed in your conservation.

“Wait,” Lorenzo mumbles, quickly following his group of friends. When he sees their hand from their back move as they speak to you and Pansy, he steps in front of the two of you, getting hit straight in the face with the two pies.

“Huh..” Lorenzo says, wiping away the whipped cream that was covering his eyes. “Key lime.”

“Enzo,” you say, knowing that this was probably one of Mattheo or Draco’s dumb ideas again. “You guys apologize to Lorenzo right now.”

The three boys sigh defeatedly, muttering a quiet sorry to their brunette friend who’s still wiping the whipped cream from his face.

“Why’d you do that Enzo?” You ask him as the two of you sat down on the grass. You’d finally got all the whipped cream off his face with a towel, and although Enzo won’t admit it, he was kind of grateful he did end up getting pied. After all, a pretty girl was cleaning him up after all, and not just any pretty girl, his close friend.

“Cause you’re too pretty to get pied.” He shrugs, which makes you smirk.

“Too pretty?”

“Well yeah,”

You laugh at Lorenzo’s honesty, and finally, you lean in to give him a kiss on the lips instead of the side of his cheek.

“Did you just-”

“Shh,” you say, grabbing ahold of his hand. “Just let me appreciate you right now. In a world full of just men, you’re a gentleman Enzo.”

And Lorenzo only smiles, knowing he’s finally got the girl of his dreams.

#lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire x you #Theodore Nott #Draco Malfoy #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #louis partridge #louis partridge x reader #louis partridge x y/n

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quin-ns · 3 months

Text

Knuckle Velvet (Aegon II Targaryen x Reader)

Word count: 1.9K

Summary: Aegon is desperate for the love of the sister he truly wants, even if he has to take it

Tags: (18+), cw: non-con, cw: sibling incest, targaryen!reader, dark themes, choking, fingering, unprotected sex (obvi, it’s hotd times), hair pulling kinda, forced orgasm, aegon is lowkey pathetic but also threatening

A/N: first aegon fic. I’d been wanting to write for him but with the new season and him getting hotter (maybe he looks the same and I just got more into him idk) I had to write him

HotD masterlist + main masterlist

Aegon’s head weighed heavy on your lap, but even as your legs began to grow numb, you let him be. Your fingers lightly carded through his silver hair in the way you knew he wanted.

“I like it when you take care of me,” your brother had told you many times. It had to be the truth, given how often he’d seek you out just to curl up next to you.

Sometimes he’d sit like this, his head in your lap like some kind of dog, wanting his hair stroked and your words of assurance. He could fall asleep like this, or let tears slip down his cheeks. Other times he’d crawl on top of you and take the love he was desperate for. He could kiss away your silent tears, or muffle your cries with his lips.

Either way, he kept returning to you, begging for your attention and affection.

It might’ve been amusing, how weak he could be to you, if he wasn’t so terrifying at the same time.

Tonight, as Aegon muttered about his most recent council meeting, you thought perhaps you’d be spared his touch tonight.

“I should have been wed to you,” he muttered, voice holding onto a bitterness he had yet to let go. “I can stand your company and I already spend more time in your bed. I’ve suffered enough cruelty in my life, being allowed to marry who I please should’ve been a mercy I was granted. It makes no difference to our line.”

You had had this conversation many times to the point you were beyond tired of speaking about it. Helaena was the eldest sister, it had made sense to your mother and grandsire to pair the two together. They couldn’t have known the resentment that would build in the king.

Helaena was the correct choice for queen. You would not have the stomach for it. Helaena had already given birth to two of his children. Aegon was occasionally amused by them, but it was your sister that doted on them. She was a good mother. You didn’t think you could bring yourself to be. You were grateful to the maesters who would bring you tea and turn a blind eye to Aegon’s doings. The rumors that would circulate him would not ruin his future the way they would you. You’d yet to marry and if word got out you lacked virtue, you may never. You didn’t want Aegon to get the satisfaction.

You suspected Aegon no longer laid with his wife, and she was fortunate for that. If he loved you as much as he claimed and still had to kiss bruises in the morning, you didn’t dare to imagine what he could’ve done to her. She had given him a son and a daughter, and perhaps that was enough for him.

Aegon sat up and you flinched, even as he looked at you with tears in his eyes. You wondered if he recognized how insulting it was to hear him whine about his responsibilities, to listen to him say he loved you and list off the things he wanted to give you, only for him to not lift a finger for either. Duties went ignored. His love remained violent. You were tired. So very, very tired.

A hand found your face, fingers pressing into the skin of your cheek. Aegon’s thumb dragged down your lips, pulling the bottom one apart from the top. His gaze pierced yours as he let your lip go in favor of letting his thumb tilt up your chin when you tried to look away.

“Do you love me?” Aegon pleaded.

He stared at your mouth, waiting for you to speak. Your lips remained pressed together. Tears spilled further down his pale cheeks. Aegon’s face twisted as something other than just begging shined through his eyes.

Your lack of response rewarded you with a hand around the throat. Then again, you could’ve said exactly what he desired and received the same. He enjoyed his power over you as you’d never been one to fight back. At least this way you could remain somewhat defiant.

Aegon kissed you like he was trying to bruise your lips. His kiss was all teeth and tongue, forcefully claiming you as he left his mark. Aegon took what he wanted and cared nothing for charm or patience.

Hands fell to your shoulders, gliding over them for only a second before they pressed. Your back hit the mattress with a gasp. Aegon’s teeth found your neck as he crawled on top of you. The weight was already crushing. With each button on your gown he undid, the faster your heart raced.

“You are beautiful, sister,” he said, sounding wrecked already as he admired your naked body. You believed he meant it, but it didn’t spare you. “If only you weren’t being so stubborn with your words.”

Aegon’s hand on your neck was no more welcome than the first time he’d gripped it, but at least you’d grown better at controlling your breathing.

He made himself comfortable between your legs. The hand on your neck remained firm, while the other disappeared inside you.

You hated how he knew to do this. To prepare you for him. Something you were certain he’d learned at a pleasure house. That was the last thing you wanted to feel. At least if it hurt you could remind yourself you did not want this. You did not want Aegon to touch you or kiss you or fuck you. But when a warmth began to form inside you and slick coated his skilled fingers, your mind would always begin to blur and doubt crept in, while a smirk would appear on his lips. It happened every time without fail and this was no exception.

“You’ll have to speak to me sometime,” Aegon goaded, fingers stroking your walls. He leaned down over you, his lips pressing to your ear as he whispered, “Perhaps it’ll be when you scream my name.”

When, not if. Arrogance was a most undesirable feature of your eldest brother.

You tried to shut your thighs when Aegon withdrew his hand, but a harsh slap to your skin reminded you of your place. You grit your teeth and close your eyes as the head of his cock pressed into you. You’d lost count of how many times he’d done this, but it took your breath every time when he slammed into the hilt.

“Look at me,” he grunted. You could feel air hit your face, knowing his face was above you.

You cracked your eyes open when he squeezed your neck. His eyes would’ve been beautiful if they didn’t have such a lifeless quality to them.

Your throat bobbed against his hand as you swallowed, but no words left you. The sole purpose was to frustrate him. Tomorrow you’d speak to him as usual, but tonight, like you did some nights, you wanted to make your resistance known, even if his cock was buried in you.

He kissed you when he began to move. The hand on your throat remained as his lips attached to yours. His other hand groped at you, running over your hips, your waist, your breasts—anything he could touch. He thrust into you with power, forcing your legs apart. All you could do was lie there and take it.

Aegon breathed heavily against your mouth as your body welcomed him. Your mind had no say in the matter. Your warm, wet walls clung to his cock as he fucked you hard. Your legs wrapped around him without your say and that really drove him mad with lust.

His hand finally left your neck as both rose to run through your hair. Aegon’s hands were rough as he held your face in place by your scalp. Your winces of pain went ignored as usual. The sound of skin against skin echoed through the room and your face grew even more heated at the sound of your own slickness that joined. He parted from your lips to watch your face.

“I can see your pleasure, sister. Your body does not lie. Your face does not lie.”

You wanted to turn your head but you could not. You gripped the sheets as he pressed into you harder with each motion, letting you feel the thick length of him inside you even longer. Your legs began to shake as heat throbbed in your belly.

“Ae—” you cut yourself off, but it was too late.

You’d begun to give him the satisfaction of winning but had snatched it away. Aegon wouldn’t have that. He couldn’t.

His eyes looked wild as Aegon fisted your hair. “Say it,” he hissed. “Say anything.”

One would have mistaken his tone for anger, or something else, but you knew what it truly was. The desperation in his voice might’ve conjured pity if he wasn’t busy splitting you open on his cock. His thrusts picked up again and you felt your body beginning to tighten around him.

Your back arched off the bed as his harsh movements forced your legs further apart to make room for him. Aegon was growing frantic, chasing his desires with fervor.

One hand stayed in your hair while the other snaked between your bodies. A moan tore through you when the palm of his hand pressed to the top of your cunt. Another trick you were certain had been taught to him to find the most pleasure. Your hips bucked down against him, the need from your body for the pressure causing it to act on its own.

It was all so overwhelming, the word slipped from your lips before you could think to stop.

“Aegon!” you cried out. You didn’t even know what for. Surely for him to stop, but a blinding pleasure began to rattle you. Your legs locked around him, holding him deep inside you as your body quivered and clenched around him. You could barely breathe as the feeling of release wracked your entire being in a sudden instant.

Aegon cursed above you, his breaths coming out harsh. He gave quick, sharp thrusts, barely able to move with the grip of your legs. You felt his cock throb of you before he spilled inside of you with a deep moan. He shoved his hips forward, encasing himself in your body as he forced you to ride out your pleasure alongside him.

Finally, when your vision began to clear, you forced your legs to drop. You laid limp beneath him as Aegon collapsed on top of you. You shivered as his face pressed to your neck. You clenched your teeth as he nipped at your bruised neck. You even felt a tear stream down your cheek.

“You love me,” Aegon stated. It was not a question this time. He lifted his head, silver hair sticking to his forehead as his eyes searched yours. “You can deny it, or refuse to speak it, but you do.”

Whether he believed that or not, you couldn’t be certain. He spoke with conviction, but as you left him without a response, you noticed the familiar glint of sadness in his eyes as he fought back tears of his own.

With a quiver to his voice he added, “And I love you.”

As much as your body ached and your neck throbbed, deep down, you knew with certainty that he believed he did.

#aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader #dark!aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen #dark!aegon targaryen ii #dark!aegon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #quin-ns writing

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the-dendrophile-bookdragon · 2 months

Text

Perfect Size

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: reader is described as short, name-calling, swearing, Daemon being a horny menace, soft!dom! Daemon, talk of impregnation, talk of pregnancy, pregnancy, smut

Summary: It was Daemon’s life mission to remind you of your size difference, in every aspect of your shared lives.

A/N: This is part of the wonderful @targaryen-dynasty 3K celebration, congrats by the way!!!! I had so much fun with this prompt. Enjoy everyone and enjoy the other wonderful and talented writers' fics. 3K Celebration Masterlist

My masterlist

The gods make humans in their image. They make them grow until they see them as perfect. Or so your Septa used to say whenever you were frustrated about your small stature. And it was no help that the greatest rake of the realm, Lord Flea Bottom, the Rouge Prince himself, made it his life’s mission to remind you of how small you were.

As children, you had been a bit taller than him. He had a problem with it. The need to be bigger than a stupid girl was great. His growth spurt came and he nearly towered over you, looking down at you with a smirk on his lips. “How is the weather down there?” He would often tease. “Just fine.” You would retort back. “I hope your small brain will get enough air up there. A shame if you lost more of it.” Was your sarcastic comeback.

The older the two of you got, the taller he would get and you would only grow a few inches if you even grew at all. First, he was slightly lanky. His muscles had yet to grow. He would remind you of a newborn horse whenever he would stumble over his two long feet as he trained with his sword. Often giggling to his dismay.

“I will cut your head off, and then you will be smaller!” He would shout in anger when he saw you snickering. Daemon’s temper seemed to grow with every inch he gained. You enjoyed it immensely when it would rise because of you.

As young adults, it was fairly certain that you would grow no more. If you stood behind one of the large dinner chairs you could easily hide behind them. Everything seemed to dwarf you.

Daemon prided himself in the knowledge that he was taller than you. Towering over you like the Hightower in Oldtown. And he never passed down the opportunity to remind you. “Shouldn’t you be with your nurse, little one? I think you got the wrong room. The nursery is that way.” Or other things.

You would glare at him. Often kicked his shin when no one was watching. He would yowl in pain. Jump around and hold his leg. “You little pest.” “Maybe you should get your head out of the clouds.” You teased back.

But there were the times he would call you more affectionate words associated with your small stature.

“Why the sour face, my little love?” He mumbled into your ear as he stepped out of the shadows. He had been hiding from his grandmother and her attempts to put boring and plain noblewoman under his nose.

A huff of annoyance escaped your throat. “Mother forced me to wear this ridiculous gown.” You seethed. Your teeth bared like a wolf snarling.

Daemon found your discomfort rather amusing. You looked like a pretty doll all dressed up. Your hair braided into the style of the land you came from. The gown so unmistakably the colours of your house, shining in the light of the candles.

"Oh, no - you're a lady and you have to wear pretty dresses and jewels and oh no, how horrible!" He teased you lightly. He leaned his head on top of yours. A habit he adopted quite recently. Loving the way you fit under him.

You snorted, very un-ladylike. But he was used to your characteristics. You were not one of those up-tied, boring wenches who tried to turn his head. He would rather gauge his eyes out before he gave them a second of his attention.

His attention was only worthy of one woman. And she was right literally under his nose.

He leaned down, just next to your ear. His hot breath fanned over the sensitive shell. “Do you think it would fit?” You could feel the smirk in his voice. You turned to him with a confused look on your pretty face. It stayed that way until you felt something. You felt it, him. Hard as a rock, pocking you through the fabric of your wedding gown.

Your face grew hotter than the flames of Caraxes. Your body stiffened as you felt him softly rub against your buttocks. He only laughed lowly. His chest vibrates, sending chills up and down your spine. “You scoundrel!” You lowly scoffed. Your heart beating faster.

Not from his antics. Oh no, you were used to them by now. About the whole banquet finding out about Daemon’s little innuendo. “Oh, little love. I am your scoundrel now. It was ordered by the Queen herself.” He chuckled darkly.

She hit his shoulder lightly. “Stop it!” You tried to reprimand him. But your words fell on deaf ears. “Oh, my little love. How funny you will look with my seed growing inside you.” He began to whisper his lewd words. “You probably won’t be able to walk, so large your belly will grow.”

Your body grew hotter and hotter. It didn’t help that he had you pressed to his chest. His erection pressed against the cheeks of your perfect ass. His hands wander lazily over the front of your dress. Stopping over your belly before wandering further down.

“Oh my little love, will it even fit in your little tight hole? Or will I have to mould your little cunny so only my cock can fit inside?” Your breathing hitched at his dark, lustful words. Daemon’s predatory smile grew at your body's reaction to his scandalous words whispered so softly into your ear.

He often wondered if he was unfair to his wife. She was small, her body had nearly strained from the weight of the beautiful two children she had already given him.

He was right at their wedding feast. Her swollen stomach looked too large for her body. It hadn’t been long before the first signs of pregnancy made themselves known.

From the small bump only three moons after they conceived. He still can remember how his hands could cover it until she was seven moons pregnant. She had been ordered to rest. To not exhaust herself too much.

Daemon, looking at the image of her laying in their bed, their little one nestled in her belly. The sight did things to him. Things where his darkest desires seemed light in comparison. Oh, how he had spent his days behind her, driving himself into her tight cunt instead of sitting in a boring small council meeting. His wife and unborn child needed him, and he needed them.

“Another one?” You looked at him from where you stood. Children’s toys in your arms as you helped your daughters clean the room for the day.

Daemon just shrugged. “Why not? Add another one to our hoard. What about you girls? Do you want another sibling?” He crouched down so he was level with Alyssa and Visenya. Both girls looked away from their task to clean up the solar, screeching with joy as their father spoke to them.

“They are tots, Daemon.” You protested. Picking up more of the girls’ toys. “They will agree to anything if you say it with enough enthusiasm.” Daemon chuckled. “Oh, I think they know what I am saying, elillus (honey).” He smirks softly. His eyes roamed her body without shame.

“It has been so long.” “It has only been a few hours. You had me in the morrow.” You snapped back. Cleaning your daughters’ toys from the floor. Putting it into the chest designated for their toys. “I did not mean our coupling, prūmȳs ñuhus (my heart). I meant another child. The girls are six and four.” He mumbled gently.

She looked up at him sitting in the armchair at the edge of the carpet where the girls were playing moments ago. His violet eyes were dark as he watched her like the hunter his prey. “I don’t know, valzȳrys (husband). You heard the maester's words after Visenya’s birth.”

Daemon saw the change in demeanour. He nearly had you, only a small push. “It is your choice, ābrāzȳrys (wife). I do not want to force you.” He stood up, kissing your forehead before helping you with cleaning the toys up.

You were tossing and turning in bed. Nothing seemed right. Thoughts swirled through your head. So many voices at once.

You wanted to scream. But you would only wake up your family.

“Tell me what is keeping you from sleep, ābrāzȳrys (wife)” Daemon's gravel voice rang through the room. He sounded tired. His back turned to you.

“It’s nothing.” You whispered. “Bullshit!” Daemon groaned. Turning to face you. “It feels like I am sleeping next to a bloody sack of kittens. What is it.” He tiredly glared at her. Knowing full well what was going on.

“You’ve gotten into my head, you menace!” You growled out. Pouting at him. His usual smirk grew on his lips, a soft chuckle escaping. “Apologies for that, ābrāzȳrys (wife).“ „You are not sorry, Daemon.” His grin widened more. “You know me so well.”

A huff escaped your lips. “Why must you torment me so?” Daemon sat up on his forearm, looking down at you. Your hair was splayed out in a messy halo. A bright smile adorned his face as he saw the light, tired glare and the pout on your lips.

“Oh, little love, I vowed to be the bane of your existence since we played with the small dragon figurines our daughters’ play with now. And ever since it was announced you would be my dear lady wife I swore to torture you even more.” He softly nipped at your collarbone, his large hands coming to rest on your rips, just under your breasts.

“Let me help you with your decision-making. Let me enter your little cunny and stay there when I cum. Let my seed fill your womb once more.” His imposing frame loomed over you. Covering you like a blanket.

“What if the maester is right?” “The maesters are cunts who want to see me unhappy and you in doubt. They told you after Alyssa you could not carry another child. Two years later they said the same after Visenya.” He kissed your shoulder gently before his expressive violet eyes stared at you. “What is your body telling you?”

You bit your lip gently, A small rumble going through Daemon’s chest at your gesture. But he restrained himself. “I want another one.” You whispered gently.

A smile broke greater than before out on his lips, his dimples showing. “I will not let anything happen to you. The moment your body is resisting, I will get you moon tea or whatever is necessary.” You nodded gently.

His eyes darkened with lust. “Now before we can even discuss the pregnancy, we must make it happen.”

He lifted himself so his arms were on either side of your head. “Oh my sweet, I longed to fill up your little cunny. Seeing it overflow with my seed. Stuffing it back in.” He laughed gently as you shuddered.

With haste born of his pent-up desire, he ripped all of your clothes off your and his body. You gasped softly, scolding him for literally ripping your nightgown. “I never liked it anyway.” He mumbled against the skin between your breasts. Slowly moving down to your stomach.

He worshipped your body, caressing your thighs and hips. Squeezing the flesh around them, even gently nibbling on it.

He kissed each and every lightning-bold-like scar. Mumbling with every kiss a small thanks. These were the marks of his children. Evidence of your brave sacrifice.

He went further down. His lips ghosted over the soft locks, his eyes watching you heave out breaths of anticipation.

A loud scream ripped from your throat when you felt his tongue plunge deeply into your wet core. The eagerness of his lapping overwhelmed your senses. His nose ever so lightly brushed against your pearl. Teasing it to shoot lightning throughout your body.

You came undone. His tongue, nose and two of his digits working in tandem to torture you. And it worked. Your back arched off the bed. Loud cries of his name and pleas for him to stop accompanied your downward spiral into the abyss of your pleasure.

He stared down at you hungrily. His vibrant eyes were dark with lust. He looked every bit the dragon he ought to be. “Little rabbit.” He growled out. “Sweet, little rabbit. Trapped beneath the large dragon.”

He leaned down again. Like Caraxes would decent upon his pray, Daemon came down upon you. Devouring you once more.

He held your thighs wide open as he ploughed into you. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin rang through the room. His large hand wrapped around your delicate neck, softly pressing against it. Your breathing coming out in small pants.

“You should see yourself, little darling. My large hand is like a necklace on your throat. I can nearly wrap it around.” He chuckled darkly.

His words elicited shivers to run up and down your spine. This action causes your body to tense slightly. Daemon roared as he felt you squeeze his cock. “Seven fucking hells, woman! Do you want to kill me?!” He panted out. Driving his cock deeper inside you. The stretch is a familiar pain. But not too unpleasant. He had prepared you for him. And he would hate for you not to enjoy your coupling.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, sensual kiss. It was so different from the way his hips moved. So slow and loving. “I am not hurting you, am I, my little darling?” He whispered. You shook your head. “Nothing I am not used to from you.” He grinned, nipping at your lower lip, “That’s my good girl.” He whispered.

He picked up his pace. His hands on your thighs clawing into your skin. His knuckles are white. He groaned and grunted, looking down at you with an intense stare. Your own moans and cries mingle with his. Creating a symphony of pleasure.

He came with a roar of your name, his face buried into your neck. Panting heavily next to your ear. Your own climax is triggered by the feeling of being filled with his potent seed. Both your eyes closed in bliss.

He stayed inside you even as his member softened inside you. The grip on your thigh remains tight. Like he needed to be grounded by you.

Your arms wrapped tighter around his neck, softly caressing his head. He hummed gently, letting you know he loved what you were doing. “Do not dare to stop.” He mumbled gently into your neck. You continued with your caress. Softly petting him like he was a dog.

He fell asleep like this. His spent cock inside you, keeping his precious seed inside you. His body acted like a blanket. Your hand in his hair.

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lyrefromthesea · 3 months

Note

Maybe drunk hashiras x reader ?? :00

something like a reader dealing with drunk hashira and how would they act? Can they hold their booze well?

Male Pillars x Reader - Drunk Idiots

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: alcohol consumption, mild suggestiveness (if you squint)

Tengen:

• can drink a decent amount of liquor before actually having reactions to it

• won't drink much when outside, knows it could be dangerous

• however, gets drunk at home parties

"come on, it's time to leave." you told your guests, ushering them out of your house. with a few sighs and goodbyes they made their way out, asking whether they could repeat this sometime.

"maybe, who knows? as long as Tengen's not claiming the booze." you laughed, watching them take their leave after a few more laughs.

you closed the door behind you, walking towards the living room. Tengen was still sitting on the ground, a sakazuki filled with sake in hand.

"I think that's enough for you, hm?" you interrupted, gently taking the liquor out of his hand. he mumbled something incoherent, watching you set the drink to the side and pull you close.

"you're no fun, beautiful.." he muttered, pulling you onto his lap and leaning against your back. you rolled your eyes with a smile, feeling him rest his head on your shoulder.

"i know you sent the others away, but that doesn't mean the party has to end.." he snickered, wrapping his arms around your torso.

"i think that's exactly what it means." you answered, wriggling out of his grip to turn around and put your arms over his shoulders.

"like i said, you're no fun.." he sighed, the smell of alcohol making you squirm and turn your head away.

"you reek. go brush your teeth and go to bed!" you scolded him, yet you laughed seconds later. you just didn't expect him to pull you even closer, pressing his lips against yours.

when he broke the kiss and looked at you with his signature smirk, you felt your cheeks go red.

"i could go drunk on your kisses too, if that's what you desire.." he breathed against your lips, his smirk growing with the spreading blush on your face.

Obanai:

• doesn't drink often, doesn't drink much

• knows he can't handle it well, but will drink a glass to keep etiquette

• feels the effect after one or two glasses and stops immediately

Obanai had already told you he couldn't drink much, that he would probably need to go home sooner than later.

you had tried imagining how he would act after a glass or two, but you didn't expect him to cling onto you. he didn't let go of your body since the two of you have walked home.

"[name], i don't know if i ever told you.." he started, your face turning towards him. you had brought him to bed after you came home, now laying next to him.

"told me what..?" you asked, realizing that the man had stopped in the midst of his sentence. it almost felt like he had forgotten what he wanted to say. tilting your head lightly, you were waiting for his response.

"you're so beautiful.." he answered, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. you were surprised by his tender touch. of course he showed you affection on a daily basis, but he still had problems expressing himself.

seeing his eyes stare at you with incomparable affection, you felt your heart beat faster. you could see the thoughts behind his eyes, that he was speaking the truth, while the alcohol had fogged his mind.

he moved closer, until the two of you were directly facing each other. the alcohol had made him bolder, had taken away his inhibitions.

without much hesitation he closed his eyes, pressing his lips against yours through the mask. you thought he would stop after one kiss, but the time it took for him to stop made your face flush.

"so undeniably beautiful.." he whispered, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

perhaps you should encourage a weekly glass of wine with him.

Rengoku:

• doesn't drink often, can hold a decent amount of liquor

• has a habit of drinking too much when he's at a party with you

• confused, nothing more, pure confusion

"let's go home now, Kyojuro." you smiled, putting a hand on your husband's arm. he had nearly emptied three bottles by himself, now completely drunk on the alcohol.

"who are you..? i'm waiting for the love of my life.." the man slurred, making sure to brush your hand off his arm. "i'm not a cheater.."

you tried containing the laugh threatening to spill from your lips, realizing he didn't recognize you. you had only been in the bathroom for a few minutes, wanting to refresh yourself before leaving.

"oh, i take it you're married?" you asked, taking the opportunity by it's head. you knew he was a good man, but you couldn't stop yourself from indulging in the situation.

"yes, i'm married to the- the most beautiful person alive..!" he muttered lazily, looking towards the bathroom doors. the way he couldn't comprehend that you were right next to him made you laugh quietly.

you excused yourself and wished him a good night, walking back into the bathroom, just to leave it a few moments later. Rengoku's eyes were trained on you, lighting up.

"careful, Kyojuro!" you gasped, watching him stand up and stumble towards you. he laughed in response, telling you that everything was fine.

"come now, let's get you home.." you said, a comforting smile on your face. the man smiled back, letting you lead him towards your new destination.

he would be embarrassed about every time he stumbled on the way back home when he woke up tomorrow - just how he would be embarrassed when he remembered his conversation with the seemingly unknown person trying to hit on him.

Sanemi:

• has probably the highest tolerance out of the pillars

• somehow still tends to push his limit

• will either become positively energetic or tired, no in-between

when you took Sanemi with you, wanting to bring him home, you didn't expect the man to change your destined path.

he had been silent for most of the way, but after entering a certain area, he looked around a few times, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him.

"it's here." he noted, stepping past the last bushes. you had wanted to complain, but your eyes widened when you saw the landscape in front of you.

you didn't know a place like this existed near your home - a beautiful flower field. the moon was shining onto the colorful flowers, giving the scenery a magic light.

"what do you think?" he asked, the hiccup leaving him betraying his sober facade. you would've rolled your eyes at his drinking habit, but the view was too beautiful to get mad at.

"it's breathtaking.." you admitted, your voice quiet, almost appearing like you didn't want to break the night's silence.

"it's not the only thing that's taking my breath away." he answered, placing his hand on your lower back. you fell silent, feeling his fingers interlock with yours, mimicking a slow dance.

it wasn't elegant by any means, the two of you were just slowly dancing through the field, but his actions took your breath away.

"i didn't know you could be this romantic.." you mumbled, a soft chuckle following your words. he simply looked at you, his eyes traveling to your lips.

"blame it on the alcohol." he said, leaning in to press a kiss on your lips. despite the alcohol's bitter taste, still lingering on his lips, you closed your eyes and kissed him back.

he smiled at you after ending the kiss, lidded eyes displaying affection. yet just a moment later, his smile faded, placing his head on your shoulder.

"i'm about to fall asleep." he noted, your eyes widening when you felt him lean more onto your body.

the rest of the night contained of ushering him home, telling him to stay awake until he could finally lay in bed.

Giyuu:

• less than Tengen or Rengoku, more than Obanai

• knows his boundaries

• you caught him drunk at a party just once, you still tease him about it

"Giyuu..?" your voice was barely above a whisper as the man hovered over you, looking at you with hazy eyes. any trace of happiness had left his face, now only revealing frustration and jealousy.

he knew his limits, he usually did, yet he took another glass when he saw you talk to a man that wasn't him - and another one, and another one, and..

before he knew it, he made his way towards you, flushed cheeks and unfocused eyes revealing how many shots he had chucked down.

"we're going." he said, his hand grabbing yours, pulling you away from the other man. he pulled you along - his grip never painful, but clearly determined.

he didn't listen until you two were outside, a few streets away from any other person. his eyes hidden by his lose bangs, you would've expected angry eyes to meet yours, but the sight never came.

you felt his head drop onto your shoulder, hands pulling you close and wrapping around your torso.

"don't ignore me anymore, i want to be the man you're looking at." he mumbled against your skin, brushing his nose against the side of your neck.

"Giyuu, i.." you were rendered speechless, his hands coming up to your shoulders before he stood straight again, looking down at you.

"i'll show you.. i'll show you why you only need to have eyes for me.." he told you, his hand coming up to brush the strands out of his face.

your breath nearly hitched when you saw the glint in his eye, his gaze traveling over you before he sped up to hurry home with you.

whatever he had planned, you surely wouldn't forget this night.

Gyomei:

• can drink more than most of the pillars, but still has boundaries

• doesn't get fully drunk, will stop when he feels the alcohol's effect

• calm, somehow appears nearly sober, but people who know him can tell

if it hadn't been for the light flush of his cheeks, you wouldn't have noticed that Gyomei had engaged in drinking booze.

what surprised you even more, he didn't only drink one glass, he did have quite a few of them.

"are you sure you're okay..?" you ask him carefully, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. Gyomei turned towards you, his eyes narrowing a fraction.

"do not worry, darling, i am fine." he answered, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. you had expected him to lean in and kiss you, but that wasn't the case.

"you, however, seem to have taken a glass too many." he said, letting you press your cheek against his palm more. he smiled at the act of affection, not missing the hum leaving your lips.

"how come?" you ask, wanting to know how he figured it out. it's true after all, you've swallowed a few glasses yourself.

his other hand came up to cup your other cheek as well, leaning down with a smile. you looked at him curiously, seeing that he had something on his mind.

"your cheeks are surprisingly warm. could that be a side effect of the liquor, darling?" he responded, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

"maybe both of have had a glass too many." you answered with a chuckle, happy when you heard him laugh with you.

he listened around the room, knowing that it was already late and people have left. "perhaps we should take our leave as well.."

"you're probably right. besides, i wouldn't mind getting you alone for some time.." you smiled, making your way towards the door with him.

parties were great, sure, but spending time with him was better.

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eraenaa · 3 months

Text

Parting Gift

Aemond Targaryen x Reader x Aegon Targaryen Tag List

Synopsis: Aegon asks for a parting gift from his younger brother and his beloved wife: One night with you in exchange for the throne.

Warnings: Threesome, ¿Manipulative Aemond?, Violence, Possessiveness, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex (f and m receiving), Squirting, Overstimulation, ¿Slight Degradation?, Not Proofread

Word Count: 5,017

A/N: Even I have to admit that this is one of the more steamier fics i made.

After the toll of war had subsided, your husband and his side reigned victorious—after two years of blood, battles, and betrayals, the greens had defied the odds and won the Dance of the Dragons. Your lord husband now serving as the hand of his brother, the King who still had not come to terms with his responsibilities to the realm. Often, you wonder who the true king was, Aegon or your husband Aemond, who had stood in his brother’s stead, taking all the responsibilities that were not meant for him.

You admired your husband’s efforts and initiatives, but you would admit you had missed him dearly. After moons spent away as he waged war in the Riverlands and his duties as hand and now substituting as king, the two of you had barely time for each other. It had not left your lips yet, but you were starting to feel neglected. You would hope that the nights would be spent with just you and your husband, but more often than not, you went to sleep alone, cold and needing in your bed. Only feeling Aemond’s presence when the morning was soon to come, and when you woke, Aemond was no longer there.

“Aemond…” You called as you clung to his side, the two of you in the sitting area, him reading countless scrolls whilst you clung to his side, trying to fight for his attention. You placed soft kisses on his neck and jaw, and before, he would always be quick to respond. However, now, he simply hummed and continued on with his duties. You feel yourself pout as your eyes shift between him and the scroll in his hands. You bit your lip and sighed in defeat, standing and making your way to your bed to sleep and not dwell on the growing hurt of your husband’s neglect. “Where are you going?” Aemond asked, voice still distracted, his hand clasped around your wrist. “Bed. I… I don’t wish to disturb you,” You say quietly and gaze into his lilac eye. Aemond sighed and shook his head, pulling you towards him, you landing on his lap and you circled your arms around his neck.

“Just one more scroll, and I’m all yours, my fire,” He whispered and connected your lips briefly, but it was enough to bring butterflies to your stomach and need to your core. You waited patiently on Aemond’s lap, scratching your nails gently at the back of his head as he read. You hear a deep, satisfied hum leave his throat as you do the action, and you feel your lips twitch into a smirk. You were reading along with what he read when you were caught by surprise as he intertwined your lips once more, the scroll he read discarded to the side. “I’ve missed you, my love,” You sighed against his lips, his hold on your waist growing tighter, and you felt his arousal through your shift.

“I should hope so… I apologize for my extended duties,” Aemond sighed and tucked a stray piece of your hair, watching intently as the sleeve of your shift drifted off. “You’ll make it up to me, won’t you, my love?” You hummed and entangled your fingers in his hair. Taking hold of the strap of his eyepatch to gaze at the sapphire in his eye. “That, I will,” Aemond smirked and moved you to straddle his waist.

You moaned as your lips locked again, his tongue fighting with yours. You lifted your waist as he undid and pulled down his breeches, his hard length already pushing against your entrance. “Aemond… gods, I’ve missed you.” You moaned as you sank down on his length. “Me or my cock?” He breathed out, amused, already overwhelmed at how you clenched around his length, missing the feeling of you. “Answer, little wife,” Aemond hummed as you bounced on his length, his head dipping down to take the bud of your tit, his teeth lightly nipping it, making you moan louder. "Both,” You answered. You would often touch yourself during the nights Aemond would be taken by his duties. Trying to imagine it was Aemond’s hands bringing your pleasure, but that was not enough to suffice your needs. You needed your husband desperately.

For the first time in a few moons, you and your husband were intimate and slept in your marital bed together. You slept that night contended, and when morning came, you felt your heart double as you still felt him holding you against his chest.

You smiled and raised your hand to lightly trace his brow, “Good morning,” You smiled as Aemond’s eye twitched open. “Indeed it is,” He whispered and dipped down to kiss your lips, moving you to rest your whole body atop his chest, making you let out a small laugh. You inhaled his scent deeply, savoring him. “My love?” You called, and you traced the contour of his chest; Aemond hummed. “Will you do something for me?” You asked shyly. “I will do anything and everything for you,” Aemond replied without hesitation, your smile growing wide at his words. “Can… can we spend more time together?” You asked quietly. “I’ve just noticed that the time spent with just us has grown scarily scarce… and I’ve missed you greatly, Aemond.” You pouted, and Aemond sighed.

“I admire how you tend to your duties meticulously… almost stubbornly, in fact.” You say, and Aemond laughs, “But you have a duty to me as well.” You cautiously added. Aemond sighed and ran his hand through your hair, trailing down your back, making gooseflesh rise to your skin by the touch of his cold hand. “I apologize, my fire, that my duties had led me to neglect you,” Aemond softly said as you traced the scar on his cheek. “So, will you spend the day with me?” You asked hopefully, but the smile on your lips slipped as Aemond let out a grievous breath, hating to see the disappointment in your eyes.

“I just… I have prior engagements this week, little wife. But I swear to you, by the week’s end, I am completely yours.” Aemond quickly said, trying to relieve the disappointment in your eyes. Aemond kissed your pouted lips, “Very well then,” you sighed and removed your weight from your husband to get ready for the day.

Later that day, you found yourself in the gardens, a bit sullen as you spent the day alone once more. Before, you would spend the days with Helaena, but you were left utterly devastated when during the war, her madness took her— the Red Keep mourning her deeply for moons to come. Aegon watched as you solemnly walked through the flowers, your smile he had grown to admire was gone, and he was alarmed as he had not seen it for a while. Aegon knew he should attend to his duties, that his brother and the small council were already waiting for him, but he could not hinder himself as his feet carried him towards your direction.

You hear shuffling behind you, and you quickly turn, your eyes locking with violets. “My king,” you curtsied as you saw Aegon. He smiled, “How many times must I tell you, no titles are needed when it comes to family, sister,” He said and stepped closer to you. You gave him a small smile and nod, “How are you, brother? I heard that the realm has been proven to be quite… demanding after the war.” You asked as he offered his arm for you to take, escorting you through the gardens; oh, how you wished Aemond was the one escorting you— but you would take any company offered.

“Indeed it has… though I am quite fortunate to have my brother as my hand, Aemond has always been the one keen on such matters,” Aegon answered, inhaling a deep breath of your scent as a gust of wind came. You always smelt so lovely, Aegon thought. A calming scent, and he wondered if it were the reason his brother would soften every time you were in his presence. Or perhaps it was just your whole being, sweet and serene.

“Yes, quite keen,” You say, and Aegon is quick to notice the sadness in your tone. “You do not approve?” He questioned, and you could not even have it in yourself to lie through your teeth. “It is just… I miss him. With the moons spent apart, I thought at least we would spend some time together, but he was quickly ushered to his duties.” You confessed, and Aegon pursed his lips. He, too, knew the plight of the duties of the realm, and though he had already fought the war, the throne was one thing he had never wanted. He thankfully had his brother to rely upon, Aemond catching the duties of king as well as hand. However, he did not expect you to grow so… sullen about your husband’s extended duties.

After a few more moments in the privy of the gardens, Aegon reluctantly departed from your company, knowing he must attend to at least one matter for the day. He ventured towards the room of the small council, hindering the guards from opening the door, for he eavesdropped upon the conversation held when he was not present. Aemond had always commanded the room, and it would seem that even in the king’s absence, his presence was not missed. He stood there for a few minutes, noting how productive his brother and the lords were, a matter they cannot do when he is present.

Aegon drew in a deep breath before nodding for the guards to open the doors and as he walked in, it would seem their meeting was done. The Lords and masters stood to take their leave, surprised by the presence of their king. Aegon nodded along as they passed him, and his brother sat in his place, his persistent scowl adorning his face. “You are incredibly late… we have finished the matters for the day,” Aemond said sternly, not bothering to stand from the seat Aegon did anything to deserve. “I apologize; I was taken by your wife… accompanying her in the gardens,” He spoke and watched as Aemond’s nose flared and his fists clenched.

“You should pay more attention to attention to her, brother. You are fortunate enough to have a wife so eager to be in your presence,” Aemond clenched his jaw at his brother’s words, hinting longing in his tone. Aemond’s vision was impaired, but he was not blind to miss the yearning of Aegon for you. They had known you since childhood, and ever since, Aegon was always enthralled by your presence, mystified to be with you, but your heart and attention were always on Aemond. Aemond knew not what he had done to be blessed by such adoration from you, but he knew he would not be an ingrate to question it and squander it off.

“I would have time for my lady wife if the king tended to his duties rather than let me handle them,” Aemond spat as his brother stepped closer to him, noting that your scent had lingered on Aegon, making jealousy in him spike. How close were your proximity to each other?

“You had always been the one able to perform and solve the problems of the realm; why must I do it when I have no wish for such duties?” Aegon questioned and that only added to Aemond’s rage. “Because you are king!” Aemond almost yelled, abruptly standing from his seat. Aegon simply hummed, toying with the orbs on the table. “Aye, king,” He stated, not accepting his faith. “Perform your duties, brother— I am merely your hand, and I am tempted to step down for even I am overwhelmed by the demands of these two duties!” Aemond threatened, and Aegon sighed, shaking his head.

“What if I lessen it?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper, and Aemond frowned. “What do you mean?” The prince asked, and Aegon let out another sigh. “I shall lessen your duties; you no longer have to be the hand and king… just… just king,” Aegon stated confidently at his decision. He had no wish for duty or this life— he was unencumbered by a wife or children; hypothetically, he was a free man. He was free to do what he wished, but the crown was his only hindrance.

There were only a few moments in his life where Aemond was taken aback; him claiming his dragon, your first kiss, your wedding day and night, and his sister’s death, Aegon stepping down as king was now added to that list. “You cannot be serious,” He stated, unable to find the words. “I am,” Aegon replied with finality. “You know I never had the wish to be burdened by these duties. I was ready to sail off to YiTi but you and Cole had hindered me.” Aegon stepped closer to his brother, who stood still in shock, “Be the King, Aemond. Help me escape, and the iron throne is yours,” Aemond licked his lips, pondering over the proposition before ultimately nodding. Aegon felt a smile twitch on his lips, already feeling the weight of pressure off him.

“I’ll find you a ship,” Aemond stated, ready to perform the plan, but his brother took hold of his shoulder. “However, I do wish for a parting gift,” Aemond rolled his eye as he heard the tone of his brother’s voice. “What more could you want?” Aemond asked, straightening his back. “In exchange for the throne, I want your wife.”

Aemond did not hesitate before grabbing his brother by his collar, landing a punch on his jaw, and slamming his head upon the table. Aegon sadistically laughed, “Come now, brother,” He said in amusement. “Perhaps I should just kill you now and take the crown for myself,” Aemond mused, slamming Aegon’s head into the table once more, wanting to draw blood as Aegon had the audacity to want you. “And be a kinslayer twice?” Aegon hummed, “You were lucky enough your sweet wife still loved you even after starting the war— do you think she would still be able to forgive you if you kill your brother?” Aemond gripped his brother’s hair harder.

“Just one night, brother… share her for one night, and the throne will be all yours. She’ll be your queen and your son the heir to the throne,” Aegon played with Aemond’s desires. Aemond gritted his jaw and felt rage fuel him. He let out a breath and released his brother, “One night,” He gritted, and Aegon smirked as he stood. “And I shall be in observance.” He added, and Aegon nodded, expecting it. “Very well then, go, find me a ship, and I shall see you and your lovely wife when the moon is high,” Aegon smirked, already filled with desire and excitement to have you, even if it was just for one night.

“Aemond!” You say in surprise, sitting straighter on the settee as your husband returns to you earlier than you had expected. Aemond shut the door of your chambers as you rushed towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a kiss. Aemond turned lax in your arms, and he circled his arms around your waist. “Wha… why are you here?” You asked, and Aemond raised his brow. “It’s just… you usually return later in the night, though I am happy you are here,” You beamed, and Aemond could only kiss your lips as he could not disclose the reality of his early return.

Aemond led you to the sitting area, never parting your lips as he gathered the courage to tell you of the dealing made behind closed doors. You took in deep breaths as your lips parted, and you perched upon his lap. “Seriously, why are you here so early? The sun has barely set… is everything well?” You asked in concern as you saw apprehension in his lilac orb. “Aegon wishes to step down as king,” Aemond confessed and watched your eyes widen, but you were not completely in shock; in truth, you were just counting down the days before Aegon fully escaped his duty.

“I found him a ship, as he had ordered,” Aemond added, stalling as he had no clue how to tell you about their dealings. “When is he to leave?” You asked quietly, intertwining your hands with your husband’s. You could feel a slight sadness in him that yet another member of his family was to depart. “Before tomorrow’s early light,” Aemond said, and you nodded. “Then… you’ll be king?” You asked cautiously, thrilled that your husband would finally gain what he had wanted since he was a boy but dreading the demanding duties that come with it. You could only hope that with his council, he would not be completely burdened by the realm as he was now. “Aye,” Aemond nodded and cupped your cheek.

“However… my brother asked for a parting gift before he leaves,” He said, watching keenly every reaction present in your face. “Oh? What is it?” You asked and slightly frowned at the solemn and almost apologetic look on your husband’s face. “He… he asked for you,” Aemond bit his lip as your mouth parted in shock and your eyes filled with confusion. “What? Me? Y—you said ‘no,’ yes?” You asked in scandal, but you feel your stomach pit as your husband could not give you a reply, his eye going downwards to the floor. “Aemond… wh—“

“It’s just for one night, my love— and I shall be here to make certain he will not step a foot out of bounds,” Aemond whispered and felt his stomach twist as you stood and walked away from him. “You cannot be serious!” You almost yelled.

Aemond went to you and took you into his arms. “Just one night… after that, I will be king— you, my queen. Our children to be the heirs of Westeros.” Aemond tried to convince. You shook your head; in truth, you know you should feel offended that your husband had practically sold you off to his brother like a common whore in exchange for the throne, but you could not find yourself to be appalled by the dealings made. You sighed heavily and shook your head.

“If I am king… I will have more time to be with you, having installed a council that I know is competent and will not waiver under small dilemmas— unlike the pathetic lords my brother had chosen. Isn’t that what you wanted, my fire? For us to spend more time together? Have you not said it yourself that you had missed me terribly, hm?” Aemond tried to sway your mind. He was truly blessed that you were always one to believe and fall for his words.

You took a deep breath, “Are… are you certain of this— you would let your brother f—fuck me?” You said hesitantly, watching as his eye darkened and his jaw clenched. Aemond had always been a jealous man, never one to share. You recalled the time he had cut the hand of a lord for he had touched you. It was quite a severe reaction, especially when you considered you and Aemond were not anything but childhood friends at the time. Aemond could only nod, and you rested your hands on his chest. “Very well then, I shall do as you wish.” You agreed. Aemond had told you that he would do anything and everything for you, and you supposed you would do the same for him.

When the hour of the owl came, you sat nervously in yours and Aemond’s shared bed as he was sitting before you by the sitting area. Husband and wife waiting for the king. With each moment Aemond stared at you, perched upon your bed, the candlelight illuminating you, the doubts in him multiplied. When he heard you let out a shaky breath, his mind had now convinced him not to go through with the plan, but before he could take back what he had devised, a knock sounded out through your room, and Aemond knew that the both of you were past the point of no return. You chewed on your lip as your husband downed his wine and went to unbar the door for his brother.

Aegon was greeted by the scowling and enraged face of his brother as he opened the door. “Try not to put a damper on my mood, little brother— this is my last night after all.” Aegon mussed as his eye went to you, who sat on your bed, his cock already twitching at the sight of you only in your shift.

You swallowed thickly as the two Targaryen brothers stood before you. You shuddered as you felt Aegon’s eyes assess your frame. You turned to Aemond, and there was a steely look in his cold lilac eye. “You will not kiss her lips; it is only meant for me.” Aemond gritted. “You are no fun, brother,” Aegon drawled, his mind already consumed by the thought that he would finally get to taste and feel your plump lips upon his. “But very well, I shall do the orders of the future king,” Aegon teased and stepped closer to you. You bit your lip and turned to Aemond, him going back to his seat as his brother started to have his way with you. You swallowed thickly and bit your tongue as you felt Aegon place kisses on your neck, his fingers draping off the sleeve of your shift.

You were unusually quiet, Aegon thought. When you and Aemond would couple, he would often hear your moans of pleasure ring through the halls. Aegon doubled his efforts, for he was detrained to elicit the same reactions from you. You let out a small whimper as he took one of your breasts into his mouth, his teeth gently nipping the bud and his tongue soothing it. Aegon palmed himself as rested his head between your ample breasts, trying to ignore the burning stare of his brother. You let out a breath as Aegon placed kisses on the underside of your tits, his lips trailing downwards and downwards until he knelt between your cunt. “Your wife can be as quiet as she wants… but her cunt cannot conceal her arousal for me,” Aegon smirked and turned to Aemond, who violently griped the armrest of his chair.

Aegon did not waste another moment before burying his face in your cunt, and you harshly bit your lip as you felt a moan wanting to escape. You looked downwards and watched as Aegon ate your cunt, the sounds so lewd and made your cheeks flush further. It would seem his years of depravity did teach him well on the art of pleasure. Your eyes shifted to your husband, who had been watching you try earnestly not to moan and show your pleasure. Aemond sighed as he saw your eyes well in tears. He sighed and gave you a nod, and Aemond shut his eye as you fell back on the featherbed and finally let out your moans. Your hands tangled in Aegon’s shorter hair as he lapped on your cunt. “So fucking sweet… it is no wonder my brother is so addicted to you,” Aegon moaned and inserted his finger in your cunt, groaning at how quickly you clenched at the digit. He sucked at the pearl of your cunt and relished the way your moans grew louder.

Aemond knew he should not find pleasure, let alone tolerate the scene before him, but he could not help but palm his length as he gazed at you wrapped in pleasure his brother gave. He had never seen you in such a way, for he was always too focused on bringing you pleasure. He watched with amazement at the way your back arched, your lips agape, and you spewing out moans. The way you gripped the sheets and the way your hips writhed against Aegon’s face.

Aegon licked his lip as he brought you to your climax, your heavenly taste still lingering on his tongue. Aegon stood before you and unlaced his breeches, and took out his length. He wanted to turn to his brother and give him a teasing smirk as he would fuck you, but he could not find the strength to tear away his gaze from your face that was flushed and contorted in pleasure. Aegon grabbed a hold of your thighs and pulled you closer to him, hissing as your wrapped your legs around his waist and the tip of his cock entered your tight, warm cunt. “Seven hells…” Aegon muttered as your cunt took him in. You breathe out as you feel him fully sheathe himself inside you. His cock was not as big as Aemond’s, but he was still well-endowed, and you still felt somewhat overwhelmed by the size of him.

Aemond only focused on your face and moans as his brother fucked you. Fucking his fist, imagining he was in Aegon's stead instead. Aemond could not bear it any longer. When he heard his brother’s heavy breathing and observed Aegon’s thrusts become sloppy, Aemond stood and pulled his brother back. You whined as Aegon’s cock abruptly slipped out of your cunt. Through the haze of pleasure, you propped yourself on your elbows and observed how two Targaryen brothers stood before you once more, your legs parted and your cunt in full display for them.

“You overstep, brother. You will not spill your seed inside my wife,” Aemond gritted and pulled you towards him; you moaned loudly as you felt the tip of his cock gliding through your slick folds. Aegon groaned and shook his head but did not quarrel with his brother. You turned your head to the side when you felt Aegon kneeling by it, him placing his cock between your lips, and you turned to your husband for permission if you could suck his brother’s cock. Aemond gave a reluctant nod, and it was only then did you parted your lips.

Aegon groaned loudly and tilted his head back as you hallowed your cheeks and sucked his length. Your teeth lightly grazed his skin, pain mixing with pleasure just as he enjoyed it. “Fuck— perhaps, brother, I shall be rid of you and take your wife as mine instead,” Aegon moaned in the pleasure you gave, but you abruptly stopped at his words. Aemond smirked at your loyalty; he knew what his brother said was a jest, Aegon being forever unserious, but you did not take his words lightly.

Aegon looked down at your glaring eyes, his cock still in your mouth, but you seized any pleasurable movements. “It was a jest,” He clarified and tucked in a stray lock of hair. It took a moment before you resumed your action, your glaring gaze rolling back at the way Aemond thrust deep inside your cunt. Aegon was skilled in fucking, but not as skilled as your husband. For Aemond knew every part of you and had memorized every action that would bring you pleasure. Aemond was relentlessly thrusting against the sensitive spot in your cunt, and your moans only grew louder as Aegon reached down and drew circles upon your nubbin and his other hand pinching the bud of your breast.

You gagged against his cock, the tip of it hitting your throat. When Aegon felt your throat tighten around his length, he could not hold back any longer as he spilled his seed. He slowly took out his cock from your mouth and watched as you swallowed his spent with tear-filled eyes, hazy in pleasure he and his brother gave.

“Rub her faster,” Aemond ordered his brother, wanting to show what his wife was capable of— dangling something Aegon could never get. Aegon, still dazed by his climax, mindlessly obliged, and his ears rang with your loud moans. “Ae… Ae—“ You trialed as Aemond lifted one of your legs to rest on his shoulder. “Look how pleasured you are by us… you don’t even know who to call upon,” Aemond hissed as your cunt almost painfully clenched around him. Aemond reached forward and clasped his hand around your neck, the pacing of his thrusts fast and sloppy. “Show my brother your talent, my fire— show him how much of a whore you actually are,” You whimpered at Aemond’s words, but you knew it was all for your benefit because you sadistically liked it when he would be mean and callous with you when he fucked you.

Aegon felt his flaccid length quickly harden again as you reached your peak. Your eyes rolled back, your face completely flushed, and your cunt emitted a sloppy, wet sound that accompanied Aemond’s final thrusts. He watched his awe as you sprayed your release, Aemond smirking down at you in pride before placing a kiss on your lips. “You’re a fucking lucky bastard,” Aegon breathed out, watching as you caught your breath, your body slick with sweat and glistening under the candlelight. “That, I am,” Aemond smirked and gave you another kiss before turning to his brother.

“You got your parting gift. Now, leave us to rest— I shall fetch you when it is time for your escape.” Aemond said coldly, ushering his brother to the door. Aegon struggled to put on his trousers. He badly wanted to stay, to be in your presence for just a while longer but Aegon conceded, counting his blessings as his brother actually agreed to his request. Before Aemond could shut the door on his brother, Aegon hindered him. “Thank you…” It was off-putting to say such words, “I will miss you… but mostly your wife,” he jested, and Aemond was too tired to control the amused grin rising to his lips. Aemond nodded, “Take care, brother,” he said and watched Aegon turn on his heels and walk away, leaving the new king and queen of Westeros to find respite.

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elllisaaa · 1 month

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how about emo hot skater boy Jake with a massive dick energy and idk maybe like a kinda cocky reader who doesn't believe skater boy Jake is huge and he has to show the reader (who might be acting like a brat) what they're missing could be interesting

EMO SKATER!JAKE who's honestly kind of a loser when you really think about it. he's got his friend group and even if he's quite famous for his unconventional style, none of these people are really friends with him. he spends all his days either listening to music and trying to learn guitar, or skating and perfecting his tricks.

what is maddening is how hot he is despite all of that. you cannot help but stare at him every time you find yourself practicing at the skatepark at the same time as him. however, you don't want to let him know that you're kind of attracted to him. so instead, you always tease him about his style - even if it suits him perfectly - or the fact that he's probably still a virgin with a cocky smirk on your face.

jake usually puts up with your bratty attitude because he knows that what you say is not true, and because he's pretty sure you don't think a word of it. he might look like a loser but he's not an idiot - he can feel the way you're often staring at him. however the jokes about him being inexperienced are getting quite old.

"i'm probably the first girl you talked to in real life though, so i'm not surprised you're still a virgin." jake sighs as you grinned at him with a glint of mischief in your eyes, but he has had enough of your temperament. "actually, that's not what they all said when they saw how big i was baby." the pet name he always gives you and that made your skin hitch at the beginning is slowly growing on you, now making a shiver run down your spine. but you try to stay focused, even if the way jake is looking at you and licking his lips makes it hard to concentrate on forming coherent sentences. "pff ! you ? a big cock ? that's pretty hilarious at least, i have to give you that."

jake rolls his eyes at you, and you try not to move as he gets closer, but you still fall from your board. but the boy in front of you is quick to wrap an arm around your waist and save you from an unwanted meet up with the ground. jake takes this as an opportunity to let his lips brush against your cheek, his long, soft brown hair tickling your face he whispers in your ear : "maybe i should show you how huge i am if you still don't believe me. maybe you'll finally shut up once i got your tight pussy stretched open on my dick."

the air around you seems to thicken, and you cannot breathe properly anymore as jake starts to suck and lick your neck. heat rises to your face, both from his dirty proposal and his kisses that make arousal pool into your underwear. "so what now baby ? cat got your tongue ?" his condescending tone as he bites down on the flesh just under your jaw finally shakes you out of your slumber - even if you had to hold back a whimper the moment his teeth grazed your skin. "i bet you couldn't even make me cum, you're such a loser jake." - "bet darling."

that's how you found yourself in the backseat of his car, ass up in the air and face down buried into one of his sweater, his scent maybe driving even more insane than his actually very big cock thrusting into you at a rapid pace. "not so cocky now, uh ? all you needed was an inch of my dick to shut up." and you want to answer, you want to deny, but at this point, you're only able to moan and bite the inside of your cheeks to not let any more sounds slip past your lips. "fuck… you're such a whore y/n."

you feel jake leaning forward, one of his hands still gripping your hips tightly and the other clenching at the door of the car for some more leverage. his firm abs are pressed against the small of your back, and his hot stammered breath is crashing right against your ear - you feel overstimulated in the best way possible. "admit it now baby." - "n-no !" - "come on, you can feel how deep i am right ? you can feel how much i'm stretching out your tight little cunt, don't lie." but you still shake your head, choking on your words as you try to disagree again, instead cut by a loud moan when jake hits your sweet spot. you clench even tighter around him, and he cannot hold back the low, throaty groan slipping past his lips.

"you're so tight baby, must feel good to be this full." yes, it really does, but you don't want to admit it - as if the tears rolling down your cheeks and the way your lips are bleeding from biting them too much are not enough proof. "n-no, don't like it…" - "you're such a bad liar, y/n, it's pathetic." and then he resumes his rhythmic thrusts, hitting your sweet spot precisely each and every time, and it becomes way harder to hold back your noises. your fists close around the material of his hoodie, burying your face into his intoxicating scent in an attempt to drown out your whines. "j-jake… s-stop, i'm…" you have to mentally stop yourself from saying the words, but you can almost feel the way jake smirks against the skin of your neck that he's been biting and licking at. "what was that baby ? are you close ?" you shake your head no again, and jake's smirk is growing as he stops moving completely, cock sitting deep inside of you. "then i'll stop if you don't want to cum."

your reaction is immediate : you whine loudly when you feel him start to pull out, even more tears gathering in your eyes. "no, no, no, no ! jake, wait !" - "what is it now ?" your voice is quiet when you answer, but jake still hears it clearly : "wanna cum… please." the beg falling past your lips entices him into thrusting back into you full force and this time you don't even make an attempt at keeping your voice down, screaming out his name so loud that everyone in the parking lot must have heard you. "admit it, baby. say that i'm big and then i'll let you cum." you don't want to, but the way he's rutting his hips into you and driving you closer and closer to your orgasm is getting to your head, your mind fogged up by lust. "s-so big jake, so fucking big, feels so good… please, please…" - "now that's a good girl. cum."

the simple command is enough for you to let go, his name slipping past your lips again as you grip his cock even tighter, making it almost impossible for jake to move. but the way you become putty in his hands feels even better. what he loves the most though is the way you're too weak to push him away when he thrusts inside of you again, seeing your body visibly tremble as he starts to fuck you again. "i'm gonna give you my cum, make you even more full of me. maybe that'll keep your mouth shut a little longer baby." you hardly comprehend the meaning of his words, but you don't really care when jake is moaning about how good you're squeezing him, you don't really care when he quickly brings you to the brink of another orgasm. you don't really care because you know that you'll be teasing him again the next morning, hoping that he'll fuck you in the backseat of his car all over again.

#i went overboard with this one but the thought made me dizzy #thank you for your service anonie #eli answering your questions #eli's anonie #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enha x reader #enha smut #enha hard hours #enha hard thoughts #jake x reader #sim jaeyun #jake smut #jake hard hours #jake hard thoughts

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gyuzgrl · 4 months

Text

all I need //csc//

summary- ceo!cheol just really fucking misses you, okay?

Glass in hand, you glance at the bottom of your laptop, briefly checking the time.

11:34 pm.

Seungcheol's never been this late before, but you're at ease- courtesy of the barrage of messages and calls he sent earlier this evening. At exactly 4pm, the first notification went off-

'hey sweetheart, work's piling up so I gotta stay back late tonight :('

Within a minute, there was another.

'is that okay? or do you need me home early?'

And then your phone rang, with his assistant calling to inform you that he'd be home late. It makes you feel all gooey and fuzzy inside, how thorough he is when it comes to your feelings. It's clear that you're a priority. Nothing comes before.

After you assured him for the hundredth time that you'd be fine, and that he could take his time saving the company or whatever, he went back to work. Sure, you ate together every evening and watched dating shows and stuff, but one night away from that shouldn't be too hard, should it?

For you, this newfound me-time gave you an opportunity to crack open a bottle of red and start working on your novel- the perfect evening in your eyes, but for Seungcheol?

Time away from you is his own inferno- a circle made especially for him.

Obviously, you miss him too... It goes without saying, seeing how your eyes fleet down to the time ever so often, how your thigh trembles as you rock it up and down, how you nearly jump out of your seat when the doorbell rings.

Grabbing your wine goblet, you dance your way to the door- elegant as a tide, and pull it open for your man.

"hey you," you grin, tilting your head to the side as a fond sparkle lights up your eyes.

Before you can say anything more, Seungcheol steps towards you and pulls your body into his, placing his lips on yours.

It's breathtaking.

His lips suck desperately at yours, trying to take you in as much as he can. Like a man lost in the desert, Seungcheol drinks you in- parched.

He's been starved of you all day, far longer than he'd like, and it's been eating away at him, wearing him down until now.

Letting his lips cradle your lower one, he nips at the tender flesh, sighing when he gets a taste of you after having waited all day.

You gasp against his mouth, holding your glass high to the side, letting your free arm rake through the base of Seungcheol's scalp. The way your nails drag against his skin has him growing weak, and he can feel his patience wearing thin.

In desperate need of air, you pull away, gasping, stuttering.

"hi," Seungcheol whispers, hands finding your waist as he admires you. "missed you."

Beaming wide, your lips find his in a brief peck, and you let your gaze meet his- now scanning over your body, pupils blown wide at how beautiful you look.

Donned in a white satin robe barely long enough to cover your thighs, hair puffed wildly around your face, skin bare and glowing- god, you made it look so easy.

"how w-"

No time for words. Seungcheol shuts you up with another kiss, this time pressing his lips to yours harder than before. A few whines of protest bubble up your throat, but are quickly swallowed up rather greedily as he pushes his tongue into your mouth.

Walking you backwards, he grabs the back of your neck, taking large strides forward that you can't seem to keep up with. Your little backward stumbles are a tad bit too slow for his liking, and in one steady motion, Seungcheol hoists you up, holding your weight on one arm as the other threads through your hair.

A surprised "mmph-!" leaves your lips, and you try your best to keep your wine from spilling all over. One hand held precariously at a 90 degree angle, jutting out over his shoulder, you try to keep your balance, but he makes it so damn hard.

Soon enough, the red liquid begins to slosh around, whirling higher and higher against the walls of your glass, until a tiny splatter escapes it's confines and lands on your exposed wrist.

"baby-" you pant between kisses, wriggling away from his lip-lock, "it'll stain if i don't-"

Seungcheol flicks his gaze from your face to the bead of liquid rolling down your wrist, and licks his lips.

He sets you down on the dinner table- where you were working, originally- and stands between your legs, taking hold of your hand.

"we don't want that, do we?" he muses, taking your glass and setting it aside.

You shake your head, gulping as he lowers his lips to your wrist, licking a delicate stripe up your inner arm- following the path the liquid set. Transfixed, your breaths grow shallow, eyes focused on the deft movements of his tongue.

How the wet muscle peeks out from between his lips, just barely visible, has your head spinning. You can't help but want to feel him somewhere...lower. There's an all too familiar heat pooling between your legs, and you need him to come fix it.

Desire builds within you, swelling to an unbearable crescendo until you can't take it any longer. With a firm tug, you grab his tie, diverting his lips back to yours.

As your lips meet once again, your senses flood with the sharp notes of wine lingering on his tongue. It's sweet and rich, and on his lips?

Oh, it tastes divine.

With one hand on his tie, you slide the other back to Seungcheol's hair, fisting the loose strands just above his neck. The dual stimulation- on his scalp and neck- is just a little too much for him, and he sinks to his knees, feeling each joint buckle under your touch.

"easy-" he warns, voice husky as his throat quivers. "can I ea-"

"yes,"

You interrupt with a breathy plea, and Seungcheol's hands pry your legs apart slowly.

"please tell me you're we- oh my fucking god-"

To his dismay, you're completely bare under your robe. No panties, nothing.

"thank you thank you thank you-" he mutters, and it's unclear whether he's saying it to you or to some higher being. For all you know, to him, you're one and the same. Especially now, with how effortlessly you control him, how you know him, Seungcheol can't help but pedestalize you.

He parts your legs wide, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of your glistening cunt, and he spares you one last glance before closing in. Your jaw falls slack as his tongue makes contact with your folds, licking through them, right up to your clit.

Effortlessly, Seungcheol finds where you're most sensitive, and cradles your nerves with his lips while he prods you with his tongue. He alternates between suctioning and nudging, coaxing your clit out of hiding, and you gasp when his tongue makes direct contact.

"s-shit," you pant, your grip tightening on his hair. The additional pull makes him groan, and you feel the deep rumble of his voice running through your nerves.

Spurred on by the noises you make, Seungcheol quickens his pace, his sights set on your high. He'll do anything to taste you, anything.

As he laps at your cunt- devouring you like a man starved- your legs begin to shake, thighs quivering with the tensing of your muscles. With each flick of his tongue, you feel your stomach tighten further and further until you can't hold back any longer.

The tension in your belly is unbearable, and your lips give way to desperate, helpless moans, loud enough for your neighbors to hear. You don't care, though. You'll deal with them tomorrow.

Right now, all that matters is the two of you, alone in your own universe.

"fuck- m'gonna cum oh my go-" you moan, dragging out the last syllable into a high-pitched whine as your orgasm crashes into you.

Seungcheol grins against your cunt, flicking his tongue up and down, working your through your high. When your thighs begin to close in around him, he holds you open, backing away for a second to let you recover.

"you taste," he pants, "so fucking good"

And with that, his lips find your cunt once again, this time prodding your entrance as he collects your arousal, savoring your taste.

Your legs try to force themselves shut- overstimulation setting in- but they're no match for his brute strength.

After he's certain there's not a drop left to be spared, Seungcheol places a gentle kiss to your clit and rises to his feet.

"did I say I missed you today? 'cause I really fuckin' missed you today"

You smile through shallow breaths, trying to settle your lungs after whatever that was.

"you did?"

"every second of the day. you're all I need."

A gentle blush makes its way up your cheeks, lighting up your skin, and Seungcheol smirks.

"you're on my mind a lot more often than you think, sweetheart" he leans closer, caging you in between his arms.

"when you're at work?"

"especially, when I'm at work."

Leaving words for a later date, Seungcheol scoops you up in his arms, one hand hooked under your knees and the other supporting your back.

"baby!" you squeal, legs fluttering as he walks over to the bedroom.

He sets you down on your duvet, letting the crisp white sheets engulf your body, and crawls over you. Settling on his knees, he brings a hand up to his collar, undoing the top buttons of his shirt, and your eyes grow wide.

No matter how many times you've seen him, the sheer muscle there is to this man will never fail to astonish you. Peeking through his split neckline, the firm outline of his pectorals greet your hungry eyes. It's a slight glimpse- nothing more- but it has an unmistakable desire surging through you.

"want me to take it off?" he teases, fingers halting at the next button.

You nod eagerly and he chuckles, quickly pulling apart his shirt to give you what you want. Before long, the white fabric is tossed aside to some corner of the room, and Seungcheol's body comes into view.

"oh my,"

Every ridge, every contour of his torso is nothing short of perfection. He's spent years crafting his body, and it shows. From his heavy chest to the shocking definition of his abs- he's stunning.

As he moves closer, inching forward with his arms set on either side of your head, you see the way his biceps tense, working to support his weight. They're big too. Big and strong and sturdy- you feel safest in his arms.

Nothing in the world can hurt you here.

"you're so beautiful," he whispers against your lips, placing a gentle kiss there before leaning back to undress you.

Deft fingers work to untie the knot of your robe, pulling it loose in a matter of seconds. Seungcheol flicks his gaze up to yours, asking for permission as he pulls the silk apart, unwrapping you like a present- although he's being careful, you can tell, deep down he's trying not to rip that robe apart.

Prying the fabric off of you, Seungcheol's throat goes dry.

Your body has him in awe. It isn't possible to be this beautiful, he thinks. It really isn't. Your skin glows under the dim lights, hair strewn around your face, eyes glittering so bright they'd put the sun to shame. It's a messy, real kind of beautiful. The kind of beautiful you see when you know you're in love.

And Seungcheol knows now that he is.

"I-" he hesitates, taking in a shaky breath.

You scan his face for any signs of discomfort, brows scrunched as you're met with an overwhelming sense of affection. Affection that you're certain you return.

For a moment it's silent, just you and him staring into each other's eyes, thinking the same thing. The wide expansion of his pupils seems different today, as though lust and desire isn't the cause of their dilation.

It's love. Adoration.

"I-" he starts again, but the words stick like velcro to the back of his throat, and you run a hand along his chest soothingly.

"me too"

Seungcheol gulps, shivering under your touch, and leans in, pressing a longing kiss to your parched lips.

It starts of slow and gentle, mapping out the motions of your mouth, and then it shifts. He pushes harder, the kiss growing intense, as if he's trying to show you his feelings. Desperately, feverishly, you pant into each other's mouths, locking lips in a way you haven't before.

"I love you-" he breathes, speaking the words against your puffy lips. "i love you, y/n"

Tears prick your eyes, the intensity of the moment weighing down on you, and you can't help the whimper that slips past your lips.

"Seungcheol-"

"I know, sweetheart"

"Seung-"

He cuts you off, kissing you deep, before making his way down your body, until he's at your feet. In a flash, his pants are off, leaving him in his boxers, and he takes hold of your ankle.

"what are y-"

"shh, just- just let me take care of you, okay?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle, "lemme make you feel good"

You gasp when his lips make contact with your skin. Somehow, this feels more intimate than anything you've done before.

Seungcheol peppers soft kisses up your leg, earning pleased jolts and squirms in return. With each sound you make, each quiver of you body, the corners of his lips twist up into a satisfied, knowing smirk.

Reaching your thighs, he presses a teasing kiss to your throbbing clit, pushing a little harder to make you jolt the way he likes.

"oh-"

Your lips part, giving way to a loud gasp as your hips jerk upwards, and Seungcheol's smirk widens.

"still sensitive, sweetheart?" he asks, painting on a worried, innocent pout.

You know damn well he did that on purpose. There's no hiding that.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you huff, half-pleased that he knows your body better than you do.

Seungcheol marches forward, determined general that he is, and kisses his way past your legs and over your torso, moving slowly as he goes along.

Desperate, you feel your clit throb uncontrollably despite just having cum mere minutes ago, and you squirm under him, eyes bearing into his, pleading silently.

"stay still," he mutters, preoccupied with your skin. "wanna take my time with you"

Your heart flutters at his words. A gentle smile creeps up your face- one you can't seem to contain- and he pouts, pausing at your collarbone.

"what?"

"nothing," you smile.

Seungcheol grins back, resuming his work on your chest, working his way up. The boyish smile turns into an evil smirk when he reaches the crook of your neck, right where you're most sensitive.

Most responsive.

He nips at the tender skin, placing his lips firm against your neck as you shiver under him. A loud, pleased sigh leaves your parted lips, and you tilt your head to the side, offering him further access to you.

It's adorable- to Seungcheol, at least- how easily you give in to him. The way you get so desperate for his touch, so eager for more, has him feeling like he's on top of the world.

"cute." he mumbles, the low tinge of his voice resonating right below your ear. It sends a trail of goosebumps scattering over your shoulder, prickling your delicate skin.

Seungcheol finds his way back to your lips, placing a gentle, loving kiss there, and draws back, stepping off the mattress momentarily to push off his boxers.

You marvel at his naked figure, staring shamelessly at his skin like you've never seen a cock before. Although, to be fair, you've never seen one like his.

Long and thick and veiny- god, he's like a dream come true. Earlier on in the relationship, when you'd first slept together, you couldn't even get all of it in without bursting into tears. The thought excites you now- being split open by him until you're sobbing on his dick.

He shakes his head, chuckling at your wide-eyed adoration as he settles back onto the duvet, shuffling up until his back hits the headboard.

Wordlessly, he beckons you over with a quirk of his fingers, and you scramble onto his lap instantly.

"you know what to do, don't you, baby?" His voice is low and rough, sending shivers running along your spine. You nod, aligning yourself over his cock, sucking in a shaky breath when the head nudges at your entrance.

"fuck-" he drawls as you sink down on him, squeezing so tight it almost hurts. No matter how many times he's drilled into you before, the initial stretch is always deliciously painful.

Your jaw falls slack, shoulders tensing as you feel him split you open. Shaky, clenched fists loop over his neck, forcing his head forward, right in front you.

As you sink further, you breathe out trembling exhales, moaning softly into his mouth, while he does the same. With each notch you move lower, Seungcheol's hips strain harder and harder to keep still.

He knows he can hurt you. He knows you need time to adjust to his size.

"y/n," he breathes, gritting his teeth as he forces himself to hold still, "baby I can't- oh fuck-" Seungcheol breaks out into a loud groan when you sink down completely, thighs landing flush against his.

Your eyes shoot open, brows set in a deep scrunch, and you meet his stare- heavy and intense. It's as if he's pushed the air out of your lungs, and your voice has gone somewhere with it.

"breathe," he soothes, moving his hands to hold your thighs, "you gotta breathe, baby"

You suck in a trembling breath, and he holds you up, pulling you off his cock just a little.

"there we go, that's it sweetheart,"

When your breathing returns to normal, Seungcheol pushes into you, lifting his hips while he lowers you back onto his girth. A helpless cry leaves your lips and you clutch onto his shoulders, tears pooling in your eyes.

He sets his pace, starting off slow, pushing into you gently to get you used to his size, before things take a rougher, more forceful turn. Once he sees that you're well accommodated, Seungcheol thrusts up into you, hitting all the right spots in an instant. You moan, digging your nails into his skin, and he hisses, shoving himself harder into you.

"Seungcheol oh my g-"

Your walls spasm around him as he thrusts into you, moving at a brutal pace, shoving his heavy cock into you with force enough to break the bed frame. His biceps contract as he lifts you, holding you up while he slams his hips against yours.

It's honestly shocking how strong he is.

With each thrust, you feel your body tense up, and that familiar, sought-after knot begins to form deep within your tummy. You clench down around him, and he chokes out a guttural- "oh fuck"- through gritted teeth.

Taking on the challenge, Seungcheol tugs you down onto his length, all while his hips increase their pace, and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You see stars.

"Seungcheol- please- oh my fucking god," you cry out, voice shaking pathetically with the impact of his thrusts.

He uses you like a toy, lifting you on and off his dick like you weigh nothing to him, controlling your body as you sit helpless against his strength.

The veins of his cock drag against your walls, carving their shape into you ruthlessly, and you can't help but take it.

Take everything he gives you.

"that's it, sweetheart-" he grits, "so fucking good for me"

His praise only adds to your arousal, and you feel yourself on the verge of pleasure, almost about to let it all go. Through heavy, merciless thrusts, a hand leaves your thigh to flick at your clit, and you let out a shrill, surprised cry, as your body falls victim to an electrifying orgasm.

You let out a sob, calling his name while tears spill over your cheeks. Seungcheol silences you with a kiss, licking into your mouth, bullying his way inside. His hips continue their movements, thrusting up into your poor, abused cunt to chase his own high, and soon after, he follows suit.

Blowing his load deep inside your hole, Seungcheol moans against your lips, and you gasp, feeling fuller than before.

"take me so well," he pants, "you're fuckin' perfect for me"

Drained, you nod weakly, the burn of your thighs finally catching up to you. He smiles sheepishly, lifting you off himself and placing you back on your duvet.

A thick, creamy mixture spills out of you, and Seungcheol gulps as he watches. The view before him is more than tempting, and he feels the blood rush back to his cock, but he knows better.

You're already spent.

"you did so good, baby," he smiles, dismissing his thoughts, kissing your forehead, "I'll run us a bath, hm?"

It's cute, honestly, how caring he is. Even cuter that he thinks he can just get away with it.

You shoot him a sly, coy smile-

"I thought you missed me"

#seventeen #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol #smut #svt smut #scoups smut #scoups #seungcheol smut #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol has bde and we need to stop ignoring it #choi seuncheol x reader #scoups x reader #he's so ceo coded #i love him

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dira333 · 4 months

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Big Stretch - Kenma x Reader

@luvring you cannot post a Kenma hc and think I won't find out and marinate it in my head until I have to write it

Haikyuu taglist: @lees-chaotic-brain

"Oooh, big stretch."

Kenma turns to glare at you, arms not fully extended yet. He folds in again, pouting slightly. "I'm not a cat," he says and you cock your head to the side to observe him.

"Could have fooled me." You tease.

He huffs, face growing red as he looks to the side. Oh no, did you go too far?

“Hey,” you lean in, try to catch his eye, “That was meant as a compliment. I like cats.”

He hums low in his throat, turns his amber eyes back to the paper in front of him.

“Can we just go back to work?” He asks and you nod. “Yeah, sure.”

“Oooh, big stretch.”

Kenma sends you a pointed glare. The guy next to him, hair dark and disheveled, chuckles low in his throat.

“Your friend?” He asks and Kenma makes it a point to shake his head exaggeratedly.

“Should I turn around so you can finish stretching?” You ask, leaning into your seat, “Or can I stay to enjoy the show.”

Red blooms on Kenma’s face as he ducks behind the collar of his shirt.

“Stop,” he whines, “There are people around.”

“Ah, young love,” the guy next to him whistles and Kenma digs an elbow into his side. “Stop it, Kuroo! I don’t even know them!”

“Liar,” you call him out, “You love me.” And though it’s said as a joke you can’t help but think that it’s more of a manifestation. If you say it often enough it will come true.

“Oooh, big stretch.”

Kenma huffs. He stops moving, frozen for a second before he throws his arm around you, rests his head on your shoulder and fakes the loudest snore you’ve ever heard.

“Long game, huh?” You ask, eyes finding Kuroo’s who’s got the usual knowing smirk.

“Aren’t you tired too, dear manager?” He asks.

You shake your head, heart bubbling in your chest with how close Kenma is. Even if you had been exhausted, you couldn’t be anymore, not with him cuddling into you.

Out of sight of his teammates, his ankle crosses yours.

Truly, feet-holding is so much cuter than hand-holding.

“Oooh, big stretch.”

Kenma blinks, sleep settling heavily into his skin. He makes grabby hands, calling you in, and even though teasing him is as necessary to you as breathing, you cannot stay away when he’s cute like this.

You settle on his lap, lean over him, hands on either side of his face as if you’re kabedon-ing him into the mattress.

“Slept well, little kitty?” You ask and he smiles, hair fanned out around his face.

Instead of answering he hooks one hand around your neck and pulls you in, his lips soft and a little chapped, writing poetry into your skin.

“Oooh, big stretch.”

Kenma glares, lips stretching into a pout at your words. You can tell he’s not fully done stretching yet, but he’s unwilling to stretch again just because you commented on it.

“In my defense,” you tell him, nudging his back with your socked foot, “You are napping like a cat.”

“‘m not.”

“Am too. It’s cute.”

“Your mom’s cute.”

You snicker. “I’ll tell her you said that.”

He groans. “Look away,” he says, “I need to stretch.”

“Mhm, no, I got full staring rights when you said ‘I do’.”

“Should have read the fine print.”

“Should have, yes.” You lean forward, fold yourself in a way that’s making your back ache, but now you’re face to face with him, able to press a kiss to his nose.

“Now you’re mine.”

He smiles, unable to keep up the pout, ducking his face behind his long hair.

“‘m yours.”

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #kenma x reader #kenma kozume #kenma #kenma fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu drable #haikyuu x reader

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maruflix · 3 months

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— ★𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐒.

☆ — “YOU ACT LIKE A PUPPY NEAR MY GIRLFRIEND, ATSUMU. I DON’T LIKE IT.”

SYNOPSIS: One of the perks of dating a volleyball captain: you get free access to their jackets.

FEATURING: Bokuto Koutarou, Kuroo Tetsurou, Kita Shinsuke, Oikawa Tooru, & Ushijima Wakatoshi x f!reader

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

You felt a cold wind blow through your body and immediately shivered in response. It was early November and you had forgotten to bring your school jacket with you. You looked around, seeing Fukurodani students walking home with their friends, laughing and chatting.

The distance between Fukurodani and your house was pretty far. If you decided to suck it up and keep walking home in this temperature, you were certain you would go down with a cold tomorrow. You couldn’t have that, not when exams were coming up.

You turned on your heel and decided to head to the gym.

As you approached the gym, you heard the loud voices of the boys’ volleyball club. Taking a deep breath, you peeked from behind the doors, trying to find your boyfriend. From the distance you saw your spiky haired boyfriend spiking a volleyball so hard that the sound echoed off the room. The ball made contact with someone’s hand but instantly went flying wildly in a random direction… your direction.

You yelped when the ball hit the door, almost hitting you in the face. Everyone turned to look towards the door as you sheepishly waved.

“Oi, Horned Owl Head! You nearly smashed your girlfriend in the face!”

Bokuto Koutarou zoomed to your direction, yelling your name happily. “(Name)-chaaan! You’re here!” He crushed you in a bear hug before you could say anything. “I thought you went home already? Weren’t you going to study or something?”

“Oh, thank heavens. With you around he’ll play well.” Akaashi Keiji appeared next to the two of you, giving you a thumbs up.

“No, actually…” You stuttered out, unable to breathe in your boyfriend’s tight embrace, “Koutarou-kun… can’t breathe…”

“Oops, sorry.” Bokuto grinned unapologetically, finally releasing you, “You’re not gonna watch me practice?” He then pouted, “You’ve been so busy lately! With exams and stuff!”

“That’s why she’s at the top of the class and you’re at rock bottom, Bokuto-san.”

“MEANIE! Anyway, why are you here, (Name)-chan?” Bokuto shamelessly interlaced your fingers with his’, surprised when he felt how cold they were. “Whoa, you sick or something?” He rubbed circles on your hand with his thumbs, gripping your hands tighter.

“About that… umm… it’s really cold outside, and…” You fumbled with your words, feeling yourself grow warmer. You and Bokuto had been dating for months now, but you still felt shy around him. He was just so handsome, confident, and not shy to show his affections, not at all.

Bokuto blinked owlishly. “I’ll give you my jacket! Wait here!” He ran to the other side of the room, grabbed a jacket that was thrown on a chair (presumably his’) and ran back to you, draping it over your body.

You immediately felt warmth. As he tightened the white and black Fukurodani volleyball team jacket around your shoulders, you could smell the faint smell of his cologne, turning you two shades redder. You’ve always liked how he smells like pine trees.

Oblivious, Bokuto put a hand to your forehead. “Your face is red! You should go home soon before you get sick! I’ll visit your house later with snacks, okay?”

This made you even more flustered, managing to squeak out a “T-thank you, Koutarou-kun..”. Your boyfriend ruffled your hair in response, something he often did. “T-then I’ll be off!” At that you ran away, your body now hot and sweating.

“Damn, you’re a lady killer, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi commented when Bokuto finally rejoined his team on the court.

Bokuto smiled. “Really? I can’t help but to tease her since she’s so cute.”

KUROO TETSUROU

Walking home with Kuroo Tetsurou and Kenma Kozume was always relaxing. The three of you had fallen into the habit of walking home together everyday after school. It lasted even after you and Kuroo started going out because your blond friend didn’t give a damn even if he was a third wheel.

Today was no different. Breathing in the crisp autumn air, you linked arms with Kuroo while Kenma walked closely behind the two of you, invested in his video game. “Kenma, we’re approaching stairs.” You called back, earning yourself a grunt from the setter.

“Hey, don’t you ever get cold? You only wear jackets during winter.” Kuroo tilted his head while the three of you walked down the stairs.

Kuroo and Kenma had worn their red Nekoma team jackets while you were comfortable just donning your school uniform. You shook your head at the question. “Nah, my defense is good.” (Kenma snorted at that.) “Besides, I can snuggle up to you, Tetsu-kun!” You smirked, leaning closer to the black-haired boy, who replied with a smirk of his own.

“Damn right.”

After a few more minutes of walking, Kuroo suddenly stopped. “Hey, isn’t that a cat?” He pointed up a tree near the three of you. Looking up the tree, you spotted an orange cat on one of the tree’s branches, looking down at the ground. It seemed to be stuck.

“Oh no, poor cat. I think it wants to come down!” You tried to lure the cat, but it stood rooted to its spot.

“Nope, I’m not going to climb any more trees. I learned my lesson when Lev tried to save a cat and ended up almost killing me.” Kenma huffed, the sounds from his video game not even pausing.

“I’ll save the poor guy.” Kuroo decided, taking off his jacket. “(Name), hold on to this. Wouldn’t want to get it dirty.” He handed you the crimson jacket and turned to the tree, grinning. “Okay, time for you to come down, kitty cat.”

To your amazement, Kuroo climbed the tree with the litheness of a tiger, arriving at the branch faster than you could count to ten. He smoothly picked up the cat, climbed down, and set it free on the ground. “There we go, the day is saved.” He announced to no one in particular, stopping when he caught sight of you.

You stood, enveloped in the captain’s red jacket, zipped up all the way to the top. It was way too big on you, stopping almost under your skirt. You waved at him, the sleeves hiding your hand. “Since you gracefully handed it to me, I’m stealing your jacket~”

“It’s too big, (Name). I think I’m closer to your size.” Kenma paused his game to glance at you before looking at Kuroo, who had his mouth hung open. Kuroo Tetsurou was a snarky, intelligent guy, with a comeback for everything, but right now he is dumbstruck.

“Woah.” Was all he could get out. His body reacted faster than his mouth as his hands went to your cheeks and squeezed them. “Woah. You look cute in that. You should wear my jacket more often, okay?”

Kenma’s video game noises continued.

“Oh, r-really?”

Kuroo offered out an arm for you to take. “Damn, I’ll lend it to you again tomorrow. You better wear it, pretty girl.” He said and gently pulled your arm, linking it with his’, as the three of you continued walking home, your face now a little redder.

KITA SHINSUKE

“Sorry for making you do this, (Name).”

You paused from picking up a ball to look at your boyfriend’s guilty face. Reassuring him for the umpteenth time that day, you smiled. “It’s okay Shinsuke-kun, I had nothing to do anyways.” At this, Kita Shinsuke gave you a rare smile he would only show you.

The Interhigh was steadily approaching. That means your boyfriend and his team would practice a lot more on the days leading up to the competition. Unfortunately, the manager of the Inarizaki boys’ volleyball team had been sick for almost a week. Thus, you offered to be a substitute, acting as a ballboy to help the team.

At first you were a bit scared of the second years, especially the infamous Miya Twins who could be a little… scary on court. You were relieved to find out that the Inarizaki team was actually a group of friendly guys. The twins in particular were almost like a comedy duo. The rest of the second years also got close to you surprisingly quickly.

“(Name)-senpai! Here’s the ball!” As if on cue, Miya Atsumu jogged to your direction, handing you one of the balls.

“Huh? Atsumu-kun, I should be the one to give the ball to you.” Chuckling, you took the ball from his hand and placed it on his hand again. “You’re practicing your serves, right?” You had begun calling the Miyas by their first names to differentiate between the two of them.

“Oh, right!” Atsumu grinned before walking away with his twin elbowing him in the stomach.

Kita stood frigidly, his hands crossed in front of his arms.

“Shinsuke-kun? Aren’t you going to continue practicing?”

Your words broke his train of thoughts. “Mm, right. Well, don’t tire yourself out.” He squeezed your hand before walking away. Sighing dreamily, you watched as Kita’s teammates instantly flocked around him like baby birds. As a boyfriend, Kita was very dependable and calm. You felt lucky to be able to date someone as cool as the Inarizaki team captain.

The practice finished with no problems. As usual, the Miya Twins hung out around you and Suna Rintarou helped you pick up the balls. They were cute underclassmen, you couldn’t help but to dote on them.

“(Name)-senpai, I think that’s the rest of them.” Suna nodded, dropping the last ball into the basket.

“Thank you, Suna-kun.” You handed him a water bottle, “Now sit down here.”

“Ahh, it’s so relaxing with (Name)-senpai around.” Atsumu commented, to which Osamu agreed. The four of you sat together, relaxing. “(Name)-senpai, wanna walk home together?”

“She’s walking home with her boyfriend, idiot.” Osamu bonked his twin brother in the head, making you laugh.

“I know, idiot. I mean walk home together, all of us!” Atsumu protested, shoving Osamu to the side until the boy nearly toppled.

“Is (Name)-senpai okay with that?” Suna asked.

You hummed. “Sure! Let me go get Shinsuke.”

Kita raised an eyebrow at your proposition, but agreed nonetheless. Excited, you dragged your boyfriend by his arm while the Inarizaki captain let himself be led by you.

“Yay! Okay, let’s go!” Atsumu was the first to step out into the cold evening air. “Whoa, okay, that’s cold.”

“I think it’s going to rain.” Suna pointed towards the cloudy sky.

Atsumu glanced at you and saw that you were only wearing your uniform. “(Name)-senpai, do you want to borrow my jacket?” He was already unzipping his jacket when Kita stopped him. His face was as calm as always, but there was an unmistakable glint in his eye.

Kita took off his jacket and quietly helped you to wear them, making sure that your arms were covered. You blushed, your faces inches away from each other. Realizing your flustered state, your boyfriend stared at you and smirked. He then turned towards a stunned Atsumu. “You act like a puppy near my girlfriend, Atsumu. I don’t like it.”

Suna and Osamu stared at each other in shock before the younger Miya twin broke into hysterical laughter. “Oooh, you’ve done it now, Tsumu!” He shoved his brother, who could only gape in response.

“I-I didn’t- it’s not like that! I was just!!”

Kita smoothly laced his fingers in yours, smiling, while next to him, you almost melted to the ground. Even when he gets jealous, your boyfriend is still so cool.

OIKAWA TOORU

Watching your boyfriend practice was now a habit for you. You blended into the crowd of girls who were also watching, unbothered as they swooned over him.

Oikawa Tooru was undeniably handsome after all.

After practice ended, most of the crowd dispersed. You still sat and played with your phone as you usually did, waiting for your boyfriend to come and get you. To your surprise, a group of girls still sat next to you, giggling.

Finally, after a few minutes you saw Oikawa walk towards you, a smile etched on his face. Behind him was Iwaizumi Hajime, his teammate. Before you could say anything, the girls next to you stood up and swarmed the Aoba Johsai captain.

Amused, you watched as your boyfriend’s expression slowly twisted awkwardly. Ever since the two of you began dating, he had tried very hard to avoid his fangirls. He didn’t want to upset you in any way, and he had been very careful with it. You could tell that he was trying to get away, but the girls were just oblivious.

You faintly heard him say “Aah, sorry. I’m trying to go to my girlfriend, you know~?” as he finally managed to slip away from the disappointed girls. He beelined straight to you. “(Name)-chan!”

“Oh, so you finally noticed me?” You weren’t actually angry, but it was still fun to tease him and watch your handsome boyfriend’s face twist into a fearful expression.

“(Name)-chaan! You’re the only one I focus on! Isn’t that right, Iwa-chan?” He gripped your hands, kneeling down in front of you.

Oikawa Tooru was undeniably handsome. But he was undeniably yours.

“Eehh? Don’t rope me into your fight.” Iwaizumi deadpanned, “But it’s true. Even during practice, he kept glancing in your direction.”

“Reeeally?” You weren’t going to stop teasing him just yet. “But you took too long. Don’t you see that I’m cold?” You jerked your hands away from his, crossing them in front of your arms. Even when you were being difficult, Oikawa was always patient with you.

“Oh no, really?” Unbothered by Iwaizumi who was already walking away, Oikawa gently caressed your arms, trying to heat them. “What should I do? Should I hug you, (Name)-chan?”

You snapped your head to look at your smirking boyfriend and immediately looked away, cursing inwardly. “Hmph, you’re always like this, Tooru-kun.”

“(Name)-chan won’t look at me, I’m so sad~”

You refused to look at him because of the heat that was creeping up your cheeks. You didn’t want him to know that he never failed to make you feel like your heart was doing somersaults. He, on the other hand, was always calm and composed around you no matter what you did. It was just unfair.

A few seconds passed until you felt something warm around your shoulders. You slowly turned towards your boyfriend who was now putting his jacket around you. “W-what are you doing?”

“Hmm? You said you were cold~” Oikawa straightened the jacket’s position around your shoulders and nodded, “Yup! As I expected, you look great! Now let’s go eat~ I bet Iwa-chan’s waiting for us.” He held out a hand, smiling.

You took his hand, trying to ignore how his jacket smells exactly like him. When the two of you walked, Oikawa draped an arm over your shoulders, leaning down to look at you. “See? I only want to look at you, (Name)-chan. Don’t pout again, okay?”

“What, you think I’m ugly when I pout?” Flustered, you could only challenge him again.

Oikawa grinned at your stubbornness. “Not at all! It just makes me want to kiss you~”

Sputtering, you could only watch helplessly as your boyfriend’s smirk grew wider. Defeated, you tightened his jacket around your body and snuggled closer to him. Yeah, there was no way you were going to win in a teasing game against Oikawa Tooru.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

“So, you know that this gym is haunted, right?”

That was how it started. Soon after that, the team flocked to hear Goshiki and Shirabu’s (“REAL!”) story about how the Shiratorizawa gym is actually haunted, especially after 4PM.

It was 6PM.

“You’re lying~ someone probably saw a moth and freaked out, thinking it was a ghost.” Tendou waved his hand dismissively.

You weren’t fond of horror stories. Especially ‘real’ ones. Even though you knew it was probably made up, something about the setting being a place you frequent unsettled you. But you could only laugh along with Ohira and Semi, listening as Goshiki and Shirabu babbled on and on about the various ghosts that their friends (“totally!!”) spotted.

“What are you all talking about?”

Your boyfriend, Ushijima Wakatoshi, suddenly popped up from behind you, almost making you scream bloody murder. Sighing in relief, you leaned back into his broad chest, his warmth providing you some comfort.

“Apparently this gym is haunted, Toshi-kun.

“Ghosts are not real.” Ushijima stated nonchalantly.

“Well…. I guess Ushijima-san isn’t scared of ghosts…”

“How can I be scared of something that is not real?” Your boyfriend asked questioningly as his team ‘ooh’ed.

“Damn, that’s hella cool.”

“We need to head home soon, or the coach will scold me again.” Ushijima gently pulled you up from your seating position. You were just glad to head out. The stories were seriously messing with your head.

The team picked up their bags, preparing to leave. But just as everyone was going to walk, Tendou yelled, “LAST ONE TO REACH THE DOOR WILL BE CURSED BY THE GHOST!”

At this, everyone ran for their lives, leaving you and Ushijima behind in the dark. Ushijima looked unfazed while you were just too terrified to move. Everyone was now standing at the doors, huffing and puffing.

“I won! And you’re the last to arrive, Goshiki!”

“Not fair! Wait, Ushijima-san’s not here yet! He’s the one to be cursed!”

“(Name)-chan, come over here! There’s a ghost behind you!” Tendou called out teasingly, fully expecting you to wave him off.

To everyone’s surprise, you screamed in pure terror and zipped in lightning speed. When you reached the door, you were already so panicked that you tripped on the door frame and fell on your face. It all happened so quickly, no one had the time to process what was happening.

“O-ouch..” You moved to a sitting position, rubbing your forehead. You were honestly too frightened to be embarrassed. “Don’t… don’t tease me like that.. I’m scared of ghosts..”

Behind you, an intimidating figure emerged. You felt yourself being pulled up. “Thanks, Toshi-kun..” Your boyfriend dusted your knees before taking his jacket off and wrapping it around you protectively.

“Tendou, are you a child?” Ushijima’s chilly voice took everyone by surprise, “You will stay back tomorrow for extra practice with me.” His tone left no room for complaints, and so the spiky haired boy could only gulp and nod, knowing that the ‘extra practice’ would be tiring. The Shiratorizawa team gave him pitiful looks.

“(Name), are you okay?” Ushijima leaned down to inspect you, and you could only nod, the embarrassment finally catching up with you. “Tendou, aren’t you going to apologize?” Ushijima was a man of few words, but today he had no qualms chiding Tendou.

“S-Sorry, (Name)-chan..” Tendou put his hands together, feeling guilty at your shivering figure.

“It’s okay!” You replied, just glad that everyone was outside now.

“Hold my hand.” Ushijima took your hand and held it tightly before walking like nothing happened. You stared at the team who were grinning at the two of you, hid your blush under Ushijima’s large jacket, and walked next to him with your heart beating out of your chest.

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