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#put on my little night gown
frukostbuffe · 2 years
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say-al0e · 2 months
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Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!
Summary: Following your marriage to Prince Aemond, you did not imagine there would be a bedding ceremony. Nor did you imagine yourself falling so quickly for the one-eyed prince. But you quickly learned he was more than met the eye. | Ft. Anon request for "“What part of I want you and only you do you not understand?” + “Love makes you weak but, god, I’d rather be weak with you by my side than face a life without you.” Warnings: Bedding ceremony, PinV, guarded Aemond, Aegon is an asshole (briefly, then he's gone), one mention of death in childbirth (not graphic, very brief), allusion to Aemond's brothel trip. Anything I missed, let me know and I'll tag it. Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader (wife!Reader) Word Count: 5.1k Requests are Open | HotD Taglist
The fire blazing in Aemond’s eye was not what you expected. It was not fueled by desire, a lust for his new bride or the exciting conquest of claiming your maidenhead as you’d long been warned. It was not bright or joyous, a fire befitting the occasion of your wedding night. Instead, it was dark - angry, a wild blaze threatening to torch everything in its path with little regard for the consequences.
Though your new husband had been nothing but kind to you, polite and even occasionally charming, for the first time since stepping foot into King’s Landing, you finally understood why so many tended to avert their gaze lest they face Aemond’s ire. 
Before you stood Aemond One-Eye, a fierce dragon rider whose presence commanded attention, and you struggled to keep from withering beneath his gaze as you held his dark look with an even one of your own.
Around you, his apartments teemed with life. Drunken revelers laughed as they surged into the room and circled the pair of you, some of them shouting tawdry jokes while others lamented the loss of the right to the first night. Regardless of their mood, it seemed as if every man in the realm fought to be at your side in a room that once felt so spacious but now left you struggling to catch your breath as they began tugging at pieces of your clothing.
As many hands clumsily tugged at well-tied laces and the heavy fabric of your gown, a few highborn ladies - friends you’d made in the short time you’d been at Court - dutifully removed Aemond’s clothes with much less vigor than their husbands or brothers or cousins.
Aegon led the charge, grin on his lips and breath reeking of wine as he leaned in close. Aemond’s gaze faltered for only a moment, turning to his brother and flashing a warning even the drunkest of men could read very clearly, before it returned to you as Aegon pointedly ignored him. Your drunken good-brother chose, instead, to tip your chin with fingers sticky with wine and draw your gaze away from your husband.
“Do not worry, good-sister,” he began, voice loud, despite his performative attempt at a whisper. He spared Aemond a look, eyes glinting with a mirth that bordered on malice - before he returned his gaze to you. “I made sure my brother was well-educated in the art of pleasure but should you find yourself wanting, you need only say the word.”
By design, you were not given the chance to respond. The last of your garments was removed from your body and Aegon released his grip on your chin to grab your waist. 
The sea of revelers parted. Amidst a cacophony of cheers and jeers, a few murmurs as to how it was a shame your father had agreed to wed you to a man they saw as less than whole, Aegon and one of his friends carried you through the crowd and deposited you into Aemond’s bed.
It was only when you were settled amongst the furs and linens that they were all finally ushered out of the room.
If you were honest, it surprised you that Aemond allowed the bedding ceremony in the first place. The idea was put forth by his brother, a suggestion he’d barely blinked an eye at, but it was plain to see just how adversely the entire spectacle affected him as he approached the bed.
Aemond Targaryen, the very image of his house’s beauty and fire, stood before you with his face a mask of composure you had yet to see fully slip. There were cracks, glimpses into the churning abyss that lingered just beneath the calm surface, and you could see them beginning to spread as a jeer from the crowd echoed just beyond the steel and wood of the door.
There was a flash of hurt, a glimpse so brief you felt certain you’d imagined it, before he swallowed and his jaw tensed. He steeled himself, his resolve, and you could see the mask slip back into place.
“My prince,” you began, voice far quieter than you intended as you sat upright to meet his gaze. “I do not-“
A hum escaped your new husband as he stepped closer, pressing a knee into the soft surface beneath you and shaking his head slightly. “We will speak when there is no crowd standing guard just outside, waiting for evidence our marriage has been consummated. For now, we must fulfill our duty as husband and wife.”
There was an edge of finality in his tone, no room left for argument as he reached for you. Though his touch was not harsh, not as insistent or eager as the men who’d taken great joy in stripping you bare, it was firmer than you’d expected. In the weeks of your courtship, he’d lended an arm as you descended the steps in the garden or offered a hand as you climbed them - each touch soft, almost tentative, and as brief as could be considered proper. 
It was wistful, possibly even naive, to believe the softness of his touch was affection or that it would continue as he pressed you back into the pillows. Aemond was not an outwardly affectionate man, that much you knew to be true, nor was he used to being treated so tenderly. His life had been one lived in a gilded cage, acquiescing to everything expected of him with little argument and even less connection. Love would not come easy to him, nor would affection.
Only time would bring him comfort, trust in you and the ability to be vulnerable, so you made no argument as he settled himself over you. 
The dim candlelight made it difficult to see much - and you wondered how Aemond might react if you allowed yourself to savor the sight of him - but you took the brief chance you were offered to study him. Tall, lithe, muscular; he looked every bit the fearsome dragon rider and well-trained swordsman. Pale hair cascaded over his shoulders, a curtain that cast shadows over the sharp features of his face, but you could clearly see the intrigue in his eye as you lifted your hand to gently cradle his jaw.
Had you not been studying him so closely, so desperate to see some glimpse of warmth beneath the cool surface of your new husband, you might’ve missed his sharp inhale or the way his eye narrowed. Had you not been so enthralled by his appearance, you might’ve missed the way he swallowed or the split second he allowed himself to lean into your careful touch before the impassive mask returned.
Friends, some long married with babes while others had just wed, whispered and giggled when they shared what you could expect. Most of your friends lamented the act itself, thankful only that it often seemed to be over quickly,  as many of their husbands were older lords in need of young wives to produce heirs. It seemed that few cared much at all about their wives’ pleasure and you’d wondered throughout your courtship if Aemond - though young, a man of your own age - might prove similar.
Now that the time had come to find out, you still felt wholly uncertain.
For a long moment, Aemond simply studied you. The deep lilac of his eye traced your face, shadowed by his hair and framed by your own locks - now free from the style your handmaids worked so hard to perfect - and his lips parted. He seemed poised to speak, though before he could, the sound of fists pounding the wood of the door broke whatever spell existed in the solace of the room.
Loud jeers from a drunken crowd reminded you both of your purpose, the reason you had been stripped bare for half the kingdom to see, and Aemond was the first to act.
Though you hoped for little and expected even less, Aemond wanted nothing more than to prove everyone wrong. He wanted to prove that he could be a husband, an adequate lover, a man who had everything and more. You had no way of knowing his motivation, not then, but you could see the flame in his eye as his hand fell to your hip.
With the hand still cradling his jaw, you managed to hold him in place as you leaned up and pressed your mouth to his. Since speaking your vows earlier in the night, you’d managed to steal two chaste kisses from your new husband - one just after the ceremony, in the few seconds you had alone before the feast began; the other, tucked in a corner before you were whisked away for the bedding. He responded well to both, stepping just an inch closer and allowing his lips to linger for a long moment, and you were pleased to find that he responded just as well to this kiss.
The ladies at court often lamented their husbands’ lack of skill or desire to share a kiss. They all sighed and confessed that the men found no use for it, no fun in it. It made you wonder if Aemond was humoring you, allowing you the kiss that seemed almost tender in nature, in return for your maidenhead - for your hand, your house’s newly pledged loyalty - but you knew well enough that your new husband was not one to indulge in anything he did not want to.
Hope bloomed, then, just beneath your ribcage that he might, someday, even grow to enjoy it as much as you suddenly found that you did.
Calloused hands began to explore your skin, touch light for a fleeting moment - almost reverent, almost tentative - before it grew steadier, more certain. The tips of his fingers left a path of fire in their wake, his skin always running hotter than anyone you’d ever met, and you nearly expected to find a visible path seared over the expanse of your torso as his hands dipped to your thighs.
As of yet there had been little outward sign of affection from your husband - everything felt like a courtesy, the actions of a well-educated prince, chivalrous out of duty only - and you knew that it might be wishful thinking to believe the slow drag of your husband’s hand up your inner thigh was anything more than slight trepidation. But you swore you could see the anger that burned so bright only moments ago morph into something closer to lust, desire, need.
Aemond’s fingers pressed firm into the plush of your thighs as he parted them and you bit the inside of your cheek to smother your gasp as his sharp gaze finally raked over your bare skin.
For all the wandering eyes, the lustful gazes that burned into your skin as so many lords of the realm crowded into the small room, it struck you in that moment that Aemond waited until you were alone to truly look. He waited until you were pliant beneath him, until you’d sated your own curiosity about him, to allow himself a glance at anything other than your face.
And despite the insistent jeers of the crowd beyond the door, he seemed determined to take you as he wished.
“They are expecting to hear us,” he reminded you as his fingers drew closer to your center. “Do not deprive us all of your charming voice.”
A handful of compliments had been levied at you from your new husband - more in regard to your intelligence than your most beautiful gowns, though one had ended with him calling you beautiful - but you still felt your cheeks heat as his fingers grazed your slit.
The swipe of his fingers was almost clumsy, less self-assured than he always seemed to be, but the thought gave you some comfort. Neither of you could disappoint the other if you were on somewhat equal footing.
Aemond’s touch grew more insistent, more assured, from the moment his fingers grazed the small bundle of nerves that wrenched a gasp from your throat and had your nails pressing into the muscle of his shoulders. He focused there, thumb circling the now aching pearl, as his fingers gathered the increasing slick. The deep lilac of his eye had almost vanished, replaced nearly entirely by lust-blown black, but it remained on your face - watching intently with every noise that spilled from your lips.
As desperately as you wanted to close your eyes, to hide from the intensity in his gaze, you found yourself unable to look away from his face. The sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the barely there flush that set high upon his cheeks; he was beautiful, regal, and you couldn’t help yourself.
“Gevi,” you breathed, hoping the word sounded as effortless falling from your own lips as it did from his. Your thumb brushed his cheek, just beneath his scar, and you could see the flash of an emotion you could not recognize in his eye.
For a moment, he remained silent, fingers slowing to a barely there press, before he tipped his head. Your hand slipped, fell to his jaw, and you realized it was calculated - purposeful - even as his gaze softened. “My clever wife,” he hummed, matter-of-factly, as the corner of his mouth lifted in something akin to a smile. “Full of surprises.”
A response formed on the tip of your tongue, nowhere near as witty as you hoped for, but the press of Aemond’s fingers into your core stole your breath and all coherent thought. The sensation was odd, unlike any you’d ever experienced, and you could feel your brows furrow as your body attempted to make sense of what was happening. It was not as unpleasant as you expected, nor as pleasurable as you hoped for, but you imagined that both would come in time.
Despite his appearance, his brusque manner, Aemond was not harsh. His touch was no longer soft, no longer tentative, and you could still feel the weight of his hands on your thighs despite his touch having moved, but he seemed to take note of the way you winced when his fingers began to press a little too quickly - a little too hard - and adjusted accordingly.
Soon enough, you found a delicate rhythm - an insistent press of his fingers, an exploration unlike any you’d ever felt, as you used the grip on his jaw to pull him into another kiss.
This kiss was different, heavier. It was hungry, a clash of teeth and tongue and noses that made the backs of your eyes sting. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, a bite harsh enough to draw blood, and you inhaled sharply as he lapped at the copper staining your lips. 
The copper tang seemed to spur Aemond on, remind him of his duty and the audience waiting for it to be done. He moved with a renewed vigor, with a confidence you’d quickly come to associate with him. His fingers pressed deeper, searching, and he only seemed content when you broke the kiss to fill the room with a breathless moan of his name. 
Warmth spread over your skin, a combination of his body heat surrounding you and your own pleasure coursing through your veins. Every swipe of his fingers, every circle of his thumb over the aching bundle of nerves, made the edges of your vision white and the air harder to obtain.
It was then, as your stomach tied itself into knots and your nails sank into the toned skin of his back - his shoulders, his chest, his arms; wherever you could reach, desperate for some tether to reality - that he replaced his fingers with the filling warmth of his cock.
With every noise that fell from your lips, the noise outside the door grew louder. It felt as if the whole of the realm waited just beyond the wood, ears pressed to the door, and Aemond seemed acutely aware of your audience. Gone were the tentative touches, the firm but still careful brushes of his hands. After a few careful initial presses of his hips to yours, he began to sink into you in earnest.
A cry of his name rang through the room, fanning the flames of the fire outside, and your body seemed trapped in the path of the blaze.
Every word of gossip you’d heard from friends seemed true, impossibly, all at once. There was an ache between your thighs, a stinging pain that replaced the pleasant ache of desire, and a dull pinch at your hip as Aemond’s fingers pressed into your skin. The entire room was too hot, almost stifling, and the noise rang in your ears. The tawdry jokes and laughter in the hall, the rustle of linen, the lewd sound of Aemond’s cock pressing into your center, the keening of your moans, the huff of his breath; it was almost too much.
Each sensation that washed over you was distinct but beginning to muddle together.
Despite yourself, your best efforts to take the affection given to you by your husband and appreciate them, you found yourself hoping for something softer, something easier, something better. 
Aemond was lost in that moment, stuck somewhere in the back of his own mind, and you could only whisper his name in hopes that he might allow you a moment to catch your breath.
“Aemond, I - please.” The whispered plea, gasped into the night air and barely audible over the cheers still echoing in the hall, seemed to break his reverie. It returned him to the moment at hand - the pinch of your brows as the ache between your thighs plagued you, the curve of your mouth as you fought to keep your composure, the sting of your nails biting into his shoulder - and gave him pause. 
The snap of his hips faltered, slowed from the near manic thrusts to something more even, and you eased the grip on his shoulder as you inhaled eagerly.
That deep purple gaze swept across your face, searching for something you could not readily provide, before he squeezed your hip in what you chose to interpret as an apology. You accepted it, easily, and offered him a tentative smile as he continued pressing forward - still firm, still deep, only slower now.
Giggles from the past, old whispers that there was real pleasure to be found in bed, began to return to the forefront of your mind as Aemond’s new pace began to replace the pinch and ache between your thighs with that devastating warmth you’d only just experienced. Everything felt too hot, too bright, too much, and the thought must have been clearly written across your face as Aemond hummed.
“Take your pleasure,” he encouraged, voice low in your ear as he leaned in close. “Then, I shall have mine.”
Warmth continued to flood your veins. Fire lapped at your skin, consuming you entirely, and you took no notice of the noise that escaped your parted lips as you allowed Aemond to continue pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
The end was as beautiful as you’d heard, as blissful, and you could feel yourself melting into the plush of the bed as goosebumps erupted across your skin and your heart thundered in your chest. All that mattered in that moment was Aemond; the weight of him atop you, the warmth of his skin as he pressed himself impossibly closer, the low rasp of his voice as he all but whispered expletives. 
That pleasure was only heightened by the warmth that flooded you as Aemond stilled atop you, a curse on his lips and head thrown back.
It was a beautiful sight - something worthy of committing to memory, something so beautiful you only hoped to see it again and again. And you only hoped your new husband felt the same as he tipped his head to study you once more.
Aemond lingered only for a moment, his gaze softer than you’d seen directed at you, before he pulled away. Another squeeze to your waist was the only affection he spared before he stood and pulled the white line from his bed. He shifted you carefully - almost tenderly - to remove the fabric then strode across the expanse of the room to the door.
Without ceremony, he wrenched it open and tossed the stained fabric into the crowd.
A loud cheer echoed through the halls, drunken revelers delighting in the evidence of your consummation, but was quickly cut off with the slam of the heavy door.
The crowd grew quieter, noise drifting back in the direction of the hall still filled with older revelers - opting to spend their time discussing matters best saved for an in-person meeting - and you took the brief moment to catch your breath as Aemond did the same.
For just a moment, he lingered near the small table that held a pitcher and glasses, before filling them with wine and bringing them to bed. He handed you one, nodded his acknowledgement to your thanks, and settled back onto the plush fabric at your side.
Silence fell over the room then, a welcome but almost overwhelming lack of sound after hours surrounded by a cacophony of noise. For the first time since you woke that morning, you found that you could hear yourself think.
Every thought centered upon your new husband.
Aemond Targaryen was a mystery. Rumors about him swirled through the realm and whispers abounded at court. None seemed to be in agreement, however.
Some thought him to be fierce, a fearsome warrior who would make a fine knight should he find himself so inclined. Others insisted that Vhagar was his only asset and that he was nothing more than a loyal hound devoted to his family. Others still insisted that the only person Aemond could ever be loyal to was himself and his own interests.
There were whispers that he was cold, unfeeling. There were rumors that he had no interest in anything other than books, that living people meant little to him. But you were beginning to see the truth.
Try as he might to hide it, the nature of his soul that he buried so deeply, you were beginning to see him for who he truly was.
Aemond wanted the things he’d never been given. He sought reassurance, comfort, love. He wanted to be wanted - truly wanted, desired; not needed because he possessed the largest, oldest dragon. And though your match began as a political alliance, you hoped to prove that he was worthy of his desires as you shifted closer and reached for his hand.
“Aemond,” you began, voice quiet as you hoped desperately he would not push you away, even as he tensed. To your relief - and surprise - he did not. Instead, he simply glanced at your linked hands before turning his full attention to your face. “Believe what you wish, but I am glad that it is you I married. I do not want Aegon or any of the other lords lingering about the castle. I did not accept this betrothal without thought and I hope that you will believe me when I say there is no other I could want.”
Though it was slight, you could see the raise of his eyebrow. So, with a sigh, you placed your cup onto the table and grasped his hand with both of your own.
“When my father made it known that he intended to offer you my hand, I was given more attention at court than I ever wanted. I never cared much for it all, but suddenly, it seemed as if everyone wanted me to join them.” With a weary sigh, you began to trace nonsensical patterns over the back of his hand. “Everyone had a tale of Prince Aemond they wished to share. Some heard word from a brother or cousin, others whispered tales from their own trips to the Red Keep. I heard so many whispers about you that I began to lose track of who whispered what. I have always held whispers in little regard but it grew so frequent that I nearly worried I might meet a monster.”
The moment you paused, Aemond hummed thoughtfully. “Targaryen’s are said to be closer to gods than men. Perhaps monsters are included.”
“Perhaps,” you agreed, pausing your tracing to glance up at him from beneath your lashes. The deep lilac of his eye met yours and you felt your cheeks heat. “But you are no monster. You are just a man. I was given the chance to reject our union. One word, and I would’ve been spirited away to some lesser lord. But I chose to stay.”
“Why?”
It was a genuine question, accompanied by a look you recognized as being tinged with skepticism. In response, you smiled at him.
“Despite your flaws, real or imagined or embellished, I find myself drawn to you. You have the beauty and fire of your house. You are proud, but not a braggart, quiet but not without charm. You are a noted swordsman and a dragon rider, yet you take no pleasure in tourneys. You are young and capable, intelligent and thoughtful. Of all the qualities one could want in a husband, you possess most."
This earnest admission was met with yet another hum of acknowledgement from your husband, a thoughtful rumination as he allowed the compliment to linger for a moment. Only then, after seeming to savor your words, did he ask, “Which qualities do I lack, wife?”
Had you not grown so accustomed to studying every twitch of his brows, every curve of his mouth, you might’ve missed the hint of a smile he wore. It was a question asked in jest, teasing, and you allowed yourself a laugh.
“Time shall tell,” you assured him, returning his barely-there smile with a soft one of your own. “Though, I would never dare call you perfect, lest your head swell to the size of Vhagar’s.” Aemond allowed you a glimpse of a true smile then, fleeting, but you savored the sight just the same. It brought a strange warmth to your chest, wound the hope that bloomed beneath your ribcage into a tendril that squeezed your heart, and you offered his hand a gentle squeeze. “I understand why we were wed. But I have hope that even if we do not find love in one another, we shall find friendship at the least.”
“You would not ask for more?”
“Men’s battles are fought in fields, at sea, on dragon back,” you answered, carefully turning his hand in yours to trace his palm. “A woman’s battle is fought abed. If I were to die there, my only hope is that it would be for someone I cared for, someone who cared for me.”
That lilac eye studied your face once more, more intently, and you could see the weight of your words settling on his shoulders as he realized that he was no longer alone, nor did you have any misunderstandings as to what this life meant for you both. Though he was the spare, pushed down in the line of succession by his brother’s children, he was expected to have a family and in return for giving him heirs, all you asked of him was companionship.
“I believe you shall be a fierce warrior,” he declared, gaze dipping to your fingers gently sweeping across his heated skin.
“And I believe you are all I could have hoped for in a husband,” you confessed, hoping he might agree - that he might declare you to be all he could’ve hoped for in a wife.
And though he seemed unopposed to you, he instead asked, “Do you believe that truly?”
“I do,” you confirmed, pausing your tracing to meet his eye. “I’ve long been afraid of marriage, of becoming trapped with someone who cared little for me, but I am more afraid that growing to love you will be easier than I ever imagined.”
“Love makes you weak,” he all but whispered, though the words held little conviction and even less weight. They were the words of someone afraid, someone unused to love and affection, and you met them with a gentle smile.
“Perhaps it is a good thing we are married, then. I believe love makes you stronger. My father loved my mother and he fought like hell to return to her each and every battle he waged. Love provides motivation,” you offered, only to be met with another thoughtful hum. Rather than pressing, you shifted the conversation after a moment of silence. “Why did you allow the bedding ceremony?”
Aemond paused for a moment and seemed to consider his answer. “I had every intention of forgoing it,” he confessed, free hand tracing the lip of his glass. “Then, we met and it was selfish, I suppose. I have something most men in King’s Landing will covet - a comely wife from a noble house who has made me the sole object of her affection. Allowing the ceremony provided an opportunity to boast, to show that while they may look, you are mine. No other will know the pleasure of your company.”
The reasoning behind his allowance was understandable, even more so when you considered that he was the second son of a man who scarcely remembered his sons in the first place. It was not often he was given something others desired, not often he could be envied, and you could not begrudge him the opportunity he’d taken.
“I am yours,” you agreed, lifting his hand to place it over your heart. “While I believe love will make us stronger, I would not mind being seen as weak, just so long as you are by my side. Others may whisper or believe what they wish but know, lord husband, that I want you and you alone. I look forward to the future and hope the gods bless us with a long and happy marriage.”
“I shall leave faith to you,” he declared, though the words were softer than you believed he intended. “But I have little doubt that you will be left wanting.” Aemond turned, then, and removed the eyepatch covering his eye. The sapphire glimmered in the dim candlelight and you squeezed his hand to keep yourself from reaching out for him.
“Gevi,” you repeated, smiling upon the full face of your new husband.
Aemond’s mouth curved once more, a touch more noticeable, before he sighed and shifted to lie amongst the pillows. “Sleep, dear wife,” he encouraged, pulling you into the pillows at his side.
With the morning sun, your new life would begin. As tentative as you’d once been, you no longer felt any fear. There was far to travel, much to be gained in the way of your new husband’s trust, but you imagined he was right; neither of you would be left wanting, so long as you had the other.
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Author's Note: It's my first time writing for Aemond (or anything GoT/HotD related) so I hope it's alright. I didn't want to go too soft but I also didn't want to go too mean/cold? I dunno. Let me know what you think! :)
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cute-sucker · 3 months
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boxer!rafe holding his baby for the first time, and knowing him he made sure you had a private room and good food.
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tell me why he would be so jittery though ??
୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 ୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀
boxer!rafe never had gotten as scared as he did when you had given birth.
waiting. rafe had been waiting for hours, holding a lucky charm that you had given him. the strands of the bracelet were frayed as he toyed with it, over and over again. the smell of the hospital was nauseating, and the feeling of being in a place that smelt like antibiotics and sickness made his skin crawl.
he had gotten the call that your baby was born in the middle of a fight. he was on top of a guy before someone stormed in the middle of the fight. that was uncommon, and the referee quickly had them separated before rafe realised it was your work friend, delany. she looked frantic, as she tried to mouth something.
the minute he realised what it was, he was pulling the ropes of the ring, and yelling at people to get out of the way. blood was splattered across his mouth, and his swelling knuckles stung with pain, as his sweaty t-shirt stuck to his chest.
your water broke.
he was there in minutes, swearing as he tried to close the car. he'd run into the hospital with a huff, demanding to know where you were. to be quite frank it may have been sweet to you - but it was downright scary to the nurses.
a bulky guy with blood splattered all over him, holding a silly pink baby bag. the first nurse let out an uncomfortable laugh before telling him to sit down. now, rafe would have started yelling, but there was this drumming in his heart that made him feel as if he was going to vomit.
he couldn't lose you, no, this was a critical part of all of it. he'd read those stupid books that you had gotten him about pregnancy, and how dangerous it was, and how many mothers had died and how to hold a baby, and, and-
(goddamn it, he was scared.)
"mr. cameron. would you like to come in?"
he looked up to see a nurse with a painful smile, he took a deep breath before nodding his head. rafe felt his hands shake, as he took a step inside the room.
there you were, pretty as always with that discharge night gown, and a relieved sweaty smile on your face. you look so calm, but his eyes zone on your hands. the baby isn't in your hands, and he found himself wondering where the baby was, but he watched you get up to touch him.
"hey, hey baby. calm down. you need to stay like that," he muses, coming closer to rub your shoulders. you close your eyes, a soft gasp coming out of your mouth.
rafe gives you a soft peck on the shoulder, "why didn't you call me?" he whispers in that gentle tone of his. you squirm, peeling open your eyes with those pleading doe eyes,.
"i didn't want to bother you. i knew-" you gasped out, "i knew you had that important match and shit, and i don't know i thought it was like a bad time-"
rafe cursed, "didn't i tell you it was the two of us together? i shoulda' been there for you. shoulda' have held your hand through this shit-" and he knew he's going on a tangent as your lip wobbled and he quickly licked his lips while shaking his head.
"nah, it doesn't matter now. aw, my sweet girl did this all by herself. let me," he muttered, rubbing tears off your cheeks, "where's the baby?" you sniffled, nuzzling your face in his hands, before pointing to the sinks where he saw a small tiny girl.
she's squirming in the nurse's hands, as she gets washed off. her tiny face is squished up as she lets out small squeals. he's struck by how small, how tiny, how he made that little thing with you.
"i-" he choked up unable to take his eyes off your baby, "thank you sweets. thank you." his head bowed down into your lap, the words like worship. he was a devout in your temple.
"here's the baby, ms. cameron."
you looked up at her, a little bundle of joy as the doctor put her in your lap. rafe felt like everything was complete, feeling his throat sting and his hands get clammy. god, what did he do to deserve this?
the baby was perfect, a tiny sweet thing and rafe's hands shook at his sides as you looked up at him with teary eyes.
"do you want to hold her?"
he swallowed hard, his voice that soft whisper you knew so well, "can i?"
you laughed something that was so sweet, ringing in his ear like a song he never wanted to end. yet, he couldn't help but look at you with approval and when he looked into your eyes all he saw was love. all he saw was the truth. finally, he reached for his baby girl, calloused hands cradling her.
he finally had found his family.
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silken-moonlight · 4 months
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1000 Special: Vamp!Emporer and his new concubine
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A/N: It's official, to celebrate my 1,000 followers, this will become a mini-series!
The sun rose in the morning sky, its light slipping through the heavy curtains of the emperor's bedroom. A ray of morning sun kissed the exposed skin of your back, warming it gently. You found yourself in the arms of the emperor, your head on his chest and your legs entangled with his. His skin was cool beneath yours, and you enjoyed the feeling of it. You wanted to place kisses on his cool skin, but you didn't dare to move, lest you destroy this moment. So you stayed like this, letting out a sigh and relaxing back into his touch.
A chuckle left his lips as he looked down at you. You looked up at him, meeting his deep red eyes. His gaze was almost gentle. "Good morning, little love," he purred, his eyes traveling down your body as he smiled, admiring the bites he'd left on your neck and shoulders. "Good morning, Your Majesty," you replied, your voice still carrying a hint of hoarseness. Something flickered in his eyes when you said that. He sat up, releasing you. The sun illuminated his dark hair, dancing over his face as he closed his eyes for a moment.
“I will go now to get dressed and ready for the day,” he informed you as he got up. “I will leave as soon as you wish.” You immediately answered, sitting up. Already you could feel your sore legs and sensitive private parts. The bite marks began to itch and heal as well. He tutted at your answer. “Have you learned nothing from yesterday?” You blushed and kept silent. He chuckled. You saw him reach out to you, but he stopped himself and got out of bed instead. “I will send someone to take care of you today,” he continued, putting on a dressing gown to leave the room. “I will not return until late this evening,” were his next words to you, not that you really knew what you were supposed to do with that information.
“You will wait for me when I return.” His voice was dark and stern, the same voice that chose you the day you had been added to the harem. The door slammed shut behind him, and you lay back, thinking about last night with a blush on your face. Suddenly, the door opened, and two servants entered. You sat up, clutching the blanket.
“We're here to take care of you.” One said, the woman of the two said. “We will bring something you can wear for now and bring you breakfast.” The man informed her. “Then we will go to the bathhouse.” The woman added. You simply nodded, just going along with it. In a matter of minutes they brought you a beautiful dressing gown to put over your naked form, Bringing you a lush breakfast to enjoy in bed. You thanked them, eating it up since you realized how hungry and thirsty you were. Your breakfast consisted of fruits, sweet bread, and various kinds of jams. You were surprised to taste how much better the things tasted than what you usually ate.
When you were finished, they brought you to the bathhouse. They stripped you and ordered you to sit down in a bathtub. The woman began to wash your hair and massage your scalp while the man began to do a manicure on your hands. They took their time. Masks were put in your hair and on your face. Your skin was dry-brushed, peeled, and washed with different sponges. You offered to help, but they stopped you, telling you that you were supposed to enjoy it and not do it yourself. When the water lost its heat, they helped you out, drying you with the softest towels and putting almond oil on your skin. They put rose oil behind your ears, oil on your nails and fingers, and lip balm on your lips, tinting it with the color of pressed rose petals. You had never felt this clean and pampered.
It didn't stop there, you were brought back to the emperor's bedroom. There you ate a wonderful small lunch. Only the finest Red meat and well cooked vegetables were given to you. You felt so privileged, trying not to enjoy it too much. A dress Was laid out for you. It was white with golden Details.
And then you waited for him. Hours passed, but finally the door opened and he stepped in. He didn't even close the door and looked down at you. He smiled, and you swallowed hard, waiting for him to speak. "Have they taken care of you?" he asked, and you nodded. He took a step inside, shutting the door.
"I have rules for you to follow. Will you do that for me?" He asked as he took in the sight of you: Kneeling on his bed in a white, flowy dress...it made him want to kiss you. Maybe he should have a painter paint you like this so he could have this image forever.
You nodded, earning a smile. "In private you will Adress me by my name. When we have sex You will address me as 'master.'" You listened and nodded. He came closer. "If you talk to anybody about anything that happens between us, you will lose any privilege you had." Again, you nodded. With that he closed the diffrence and kissed you. You melted into his touch.
"By the holy night...I need someone like you." He whispered and kissed you again as if his life depended on it. "My beloved, my own..." he continued, making you gasp as you realized what he had just said...
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Divider credit: @thecutestgrotto
Taglist: @blushycadaver
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hees-mine · 4 months
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𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋. 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠
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Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader
Warnings: smut, cheating, stepson, stepmom, taboo relationship, dry humping, unprotected sex, oral, anal sex, fingering, cum eating, lube, cursing, mentions of contraceptives, mommy kink-ish, no plot.
Genre: 18+, step relationship, taboo. Not proofread.
WC: 4,823k
⟱⟱⟱
“Come on, Mommy,” heeseung chuckles while standing behind you, caging you between the kitchen counter you were preparing dinner on and his slim body.
His dad’s at work, you’re home alone, and even though you shot him down countless times in the past, he figured he’d try again now since you two had the place all to yourselves for the next few hours.
Call him shameless for trying to take his dad’s woman, but he doesn’t care. His dad never treated you right anyway, so why should he respect him when he can’t even respect his wife?
“Please,” he whines next to your ear. Despite his closeness, he keeps all parts of his body off of you, giving you your space well, somewhat, anyway. “He’s gone, baby. It’s just you and me,” he smiles, blowing a gust of air against your cheek, making you shiver. “Can’t be a bad mom and say no to your stepson, can you?”
“Heeseung, quit it.” You pushed his arm away from your body, breaking out of the cage he had trapped you in and grabbing a pot from the cupboard to put your ingredients on the stove with.
“Why?” He whines like a little kid and follows you around the kitchen like one too softly tugging on your dress to get your attention.
“I’m telling your father if you don’t stop,” you tell him sternly cause you were growing tired of the antics that he’d perform every time his dad was out at work.
“You won’t,” he quickly replied. “I know you want it to cause if you didn’t, why haven’t you already told me off? Why are you letting me invade your personal space and whisper the nastiest things in your ear, hmm?” Again, he captures you between the counter and his body and presses his cheek against yours, nuzzling you and making your breath hitch when his warm skin meets yours.
You hated how he was right. You hated how you were married and committed to another man, but you wanted his son, and you hated even more that you could slowly feel yourself losing your resolve.
“Deny it,” he gripped the counter so hard, willing himself not to brush his throbbing cock on your perfectly shaped ass in that beautiful gown that he loved so much fuck he always loved when you wore it so easy and accessible. He swears he’s thought about bending you over and fucking you in it time and time again.
“S-stop,” you stutter out, and you’re sure that whatever he says next will tip you over the edge. Just the sound of his voice could have you doing unspeakable things.
“You sure you want me to? Let’s be honest. You need a good fuck, right? I haven’t heard shit coming from upstairs in years. Come to think of it, baby, when’s the last time you and him even kissed?” He pushes his point, enticing you even further.
“I-I”
“You don’t remember, huh? Poor thing, bet your little pussy is aching for some dick l bet she's so tight probably needs a good stretch, yeah? I can do that for you, baby. I can make you feel so so good,” he moans next to your ear. Just the idea of his cock being this close to your little holes was turning him on so bad. “I’d get you so wet. Rub that little clit to get you in the mood. Take my time with you. Appreciate every inch of you before slipping it in real slow, feeling your cute cunt wrap around me so tight and eager to be fucked. I’d make you cream on this big dick all night till you’re crying from how good it feels, and then I’d fuck you one last time just so you don’t forget about me” he nibbles on your earlobe as you register all the filthy things he had just whispered in your ear.
At his words, you lost yourself moaning shamelessly at just the thought of him having you, your pussy clenched so tight around nothing as a wave of arousal gushed down to your thighs. 
You surprised him and yourself when you desperately pushed your backside against his crotch, something neither of you would ever expect to happen with the way you were so diligently rejecting him time and time again, but tonight, you broke. You couldn’t deny that you wanted him.
“Fuck” he groaned behind you as you rotated your hips, rubbing your plump ass on his cock. “See, baby, knew you fucking wanted this” he moves his hands from the counter to grip your plush hips instead and takes the lead, humping his cock between the crevice of your ass. “Oh yeah, just like that. Rub it on me, baby.” 
“You’re so big,” you choked out, feeling every inch of him against your ass. Your pussy dripped even more for him at the thought of having someone as big as him inside you.
“Yeah? Like that, huh? Can’t wait to stuff you with my cock and feel your cunt gripping on me” A grunt follows his words as he loses himself in the feeling of your body working against his.
His tip was so wet it was seeping through his basketball shorts as he rutted against you. The sight of you all bent over while you backed your ass up on him was something he fantasized about late nights with his fist wrapped tightly around his cock, and to have you like this now was like a dream fucking come true. “Hee, please fuck me,” you whimper and grip the faucet handles to stable yourself.
“Yes, Mommy gonna fuck you so good,” he whines and guides your body upwards, pressing your back flush against his chest as he places a kiss on your cheek. 
He turned you around in his arms, picking you up like it was nothing to him and taking you upstairs, not to his bedroom but yours. 
“Here?” You question with a hint of worry as your fingers fiddle with the hair on his nape.
“Of course, gotta fuck you properly in your bed since dad doesn’t do it” he places you on the bed, quickly dropping his shorts and tossing his tank top on the floor, leaving himself completely naked in front of you.
You squirmed in bed, rubbing your legs together at the sight of his thick throbbing cock, impatiently waiting to feel it inside of you. “Heeseung” 
“Look at how hard I am” he climbs over you on the bed, his length resting on your tummy as he bucks his hips forward dry, humping you. “Ahh, see how wet I am for you,” he moans, watching the strings of precum staining your dress. “This is what I’d do every night except with my pillow wishing it was y-you,” he shudders when his tip rubs your fabric just the right way making him hump you even faster.
“Sorry,” you mutter apologetically for leaving him high and dry all those nights. To make up for it, your hand makes its way to his cock, and you press your palm against his hot girth, making a makeshift hole for him to fuck into.
“Fuck!” He threw his back as his hips jerked forward from the soft, warm sensation your hand provided.
“Does that feel better?” You asked, your eyes gleaming in excitement, watching as more precum spilled from his thick pink tip.
“Yes,” he hisses through his teeth while staring down at you, his hands coming to cup your breasts as he rocks his hips slowly. “So much better,” he breathed out.
When he feels himself starting to throb, his movement comes to a sudden halt, and he grips your wrist, taking the hand that was covered in his precum and holding it to your mouth, where you gladly licked his salty arousal clean off your hand.
He leaned back on the bed, his hands slipping up the fabric of your dress just to see you were wearing nothing under it and your thighs coated in a white sticky mess. “Oh fuck” his eyes roll back in his head, and he doesn’t hesitate for a moment to lay flat on his stomach and presses his face between your thighs, kissing your drenched core. “You’re so fucking wet, made such a mess, and you haven’t even cum yet.” 
Your body stiffened as you felt his lips rubbing against your pussy, the feeling being foreign to you cause your husband never did that for you. “Hee-“ you winced as you felt his warm tongue press on your clit. It felt good but also overwhelming as you cried out in pleasure.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, noticing how rigid your body had become when he was going down on you, and he hoped that you weren’t about to tell him to stop.
“N-nothing, I just never done this before,” you admit casually, but he doesn’t take it as casually as you said it cause what a fucking loser his dad was. He had a gorgeous fucking wife all to himself, and he wasn’t going down on you every night? What a piece of shit. He always hated his father, but that just made him hate him a little more.
“Just relax while I make you feel good” he closed his eyes before tilting his head to the side and making out with your sweet pussy humming at the taste of your juices covering his tongue. “Could eat you for days,” he mumbles as his hands fall from the bottom of your dress and down to your thighs, where he squeezes them roughly.
“It feels so good” You arched your back, pressing your pussy closer to his face.
He chuckled softly, taking a deep breath as he opened his mouth, finding your opening with his tongue and sticking it in your gushing hole.
“Ahh! Heeseung,” you squeaked when he entered you. It’s been so long since you felt something there, and you don’t remember a time it ever felt this good.
He kneaded your thighs, flicking his tongue in and out in and out, swallowing down your drippings like the sweetest juice he’s ever tasted, and that alone could make him cum on the spot.
You mindlessly put your hand on the back of his head, pushing him deeper inside you, and he loved the roughness of it. He could barely even breathe, but he didn’t pull back for a second, too addicted to your taste to stop.
He gulped down your sticky wetness eating you out like he was getting thirstier by the second he rubbed the tip of his nose on your engorged clit, and the feeling was otherworldly.
“Oh, my- heeseung!” You shouted his name, legs tensing as you rubbed your pussy on his face using him for pleasure.
He moaned lewdly into your heat, sending tiny little vibrations through your core, heightening the pleasure even more. “Cum in my mouth,” he parted from you long enough to say before diving back into the sea of arousal between your quivering thighs.
You had no choice but to let go and let your orgasm take over your body. “I’m cumming” You writhed on the bed as he held you, still pleasure washing over you in waves. Your mouth opened in a silent scream as harsh throbbing coursed through your core. Your walls clenched so hard and tight around his tongue, and he loved every single last second of it. He was literally moaning against your cunt nonstop.
“Hmm,” he pulled away finally and kissed your mound, then your clit. “Beautiful pussy tastes so fucking good” he licked his lips, savoring your taste on his buds while massaging your thighs. “Was it good?”
“Hmph, yes, you were so good, hee.” You were still coming down from your high, whining in pure ecstasy until your o faded away completely, and you had to take a minute to catch your breath. “Let me suck you off, please” You don’t know what came over you, but the words just fell out, and you can’t say you regretted it by the way his face lit up and his cock jumped in excitement.
“You don’t even have to ask, pretty.” he quickly repositioned himself on the edge of the bed while you stood up and walked in front of him.
You shrugged your dress off each of your shoulders, pulling it down the rest of the way, leaving your body on full display for him. Your chest looked so fucking perfect. The amount of times he imagined you like this was unhealthy. The way his heart was beating in anticipation was so overwhelming he could barely even catch his breath, and his cock throbbed so hard between his legs that he thought he might cum the second you put him inside your mouth.
You crouched down, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time as you kneeled in front of him, carefully gripping his cock and kissing his tip.
He gripped the edge of the bed his toes digging into the carpet he can’t believe a single kiss could get him going this much. 
You tightened the grip around his thick base, tapping his wet tip on your cheek teasingly.
“Shit,” he hissed as you rubbed your cheek along his shaft. You could feel him pulsing in your hand, and the fact you had him this excited turned you on even more.
“So big,” you said seductively, sinking down on his tip and suckling on it softly.
“Oh yeah, that’s it,” he whispers, and you hum around him, taking more of his length in your mouth till he is halfway inside.
“Take it all. I know you wanna choke on it,” he smirks as you immediately suck the rest of him in, gagging on it, your eyes rolling back in your head as you took him so deep his balls brushed against your bottom lip.
You stayed completely still, your neck bulging as you enveloped his entire shaft. “Shit, you take me so well. Swallow that dick, baby” he put his hand on your head, stroking it softly as you swallowed, your throat convulsing around his tip so good, so tight. “Just like that fuck!” 
You reached up, rubbing his thighs as you began to bob your head blowing his cock faster until he was literally shaking in pleasure.
His hips bucked involuntarily, and you gagged again, forcing you to pull off him for a breather. Your saliva spilled all over his cock, making a wet slippery mess. “Heeseung,” you moan out his name, and you might have been enjoying this even more than him. The feeling of his hot, heavy cock resting on your tongue made your cunt pulsate with need.
“You like gagging on it, baby? Want me to fuck your throat?” You nodded immediately, and he wasted no time holding your head, still bucking his hips and drilling your throat till his tip brushed your tonsils with every thrust.
The sounds you made were so obscene, so sinful, but it turned you both on even more. The lewd act of you drooling and gagging on his cock was gonna make him cum. “Shit, I’m gonna cum. Swallow me, Mommy, swallow it all,” he moaned out, stilling in your throat, shooting his cum inside you, leaving you no choice but to drink all of his milky white cum. “Yessss.” he gripped the sides of your head, using your mouth to finish himself off, making you milk every single last drop until his balls were completely empty.
He laid back on his elbows, sweaty and panting as you pulled off him, choking and trying to catch your breath. “Come here” You stood up, and he griped your waist, pulling you on top of him, his hands softly kneading your ass as he stared at your lips. “Give me a kiss, Mommy.” Your eyes fell shut, and you pressed your lips against him, melting at the softness of them. He nibbled softly on your bottom lip, and you moaned, allowing him to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Your nails dug into his wide shoulders, and you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your hips on his soft cock. It felt so good rubbing your clit along his length as you kissed.
“Hmm,” he groaned into the kiss, his hips meeting yours, thrusting up and rubbing his stiffening cock on your wet core. “Need to feel you so bad,” he breathed out between kisses.
“Me too, seungie, please fuck me” As soon as the words left your lips, he easily turned you over on your back and positioned himself between your legs. “Wait!” you said, putting a hand on his chest, stopping him from going any further. “Condoms?”
Fuck, he curses in his head. “I don’t have any baby” he holds his tip to your clit, rubbing it and collecting your wetness on his shaft.
“My husband keeps some in the top drawer.” he discreetly rolls his eyes when you said your husband. Just the thought alone made him angry. Nevertheless, he erases it from his mind and checks the top drawer, and he can’t help but chuckle. “Snug? Baby, you don’t really think that’ll fit me, do you?” He smirks, and all you could do now was blush on second thought. You probably shouldn’t have even suggested that cause he’s way bigger than your husband could ever dream of. “What a fucking loser still using condoms. He’s been with you five years and can’t even start a family with you yet.”
“Seung…” you call to him. You didn’t want to think about anything else right now. You just wanted him.
He tosses the condoms back inside the drawer. “Guess I’ll just have to fuck you raw, baby” he holds the base of his cock, his tip pushing past your tight entrance, and at this point, you didn’t care that he was fucking you without a condom. You just needed to feel him in you. 
“Oh,” you whimpered as his tip stretched you open.
“Fuck you’re so tight, baby,” he grunts and rests his fists beside your head, letting you adjust as he slowly lunges forward to push his size all the way in your heat. “Fucking soaking on my dick baby.”
“Too big,” you mumble, your legs feeling numb as he splits you open on his inches.
“Shh, just relax, Mommy take it nice slow” he cups your face with his left hand, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he feeds your pussy inch after inch of his thick cock, pulling out and pushing back in, working your hole open till you can fit his massive size and take him balls deep.
“You’re so deep, seungie,” You moan, nails raking down his toned back as he fills you all the way up, bottoming out in your drenched pussy.
“There you go, Mommy taking it all,” he smirks and bends down to kiss your forehead. “Feel good? You like it when it’s deep inside you?” He thrusts shallowly at first, but to his surprise, you’re already fully adjusted and taking it with ease.
“Hmm, mmm, yes, heeseung, I love the way you feel deep inside me. It’s so good, so full.” You babble out, and he continues to increase the pace till his balls meet your outer lips, creating a quiet sticky sound in the silent room. 
“Fuck you’re so tight; I knew I'd have to stretch it out. Never had someone like me before, huh baby?” He grunts as he begins fucking you at a quicker pace until the sound of skin on skin fills the room.
“N-no, never fuck, hee,” you scream, your eyes squeezed shut in concentration, trying to feel every single last inch of dick that he gives you. “Faster, Seung, please.” Your hands slip from his back to his hips, guiding his pace and bringing his body into you so you can feel his tip hit your cervix with every thrust. “Oh yes, right there, don’t stop.”
“Could never stop fucking this pussy so tight and warm” He can’t help himself from feeling a little bit cocky, knowing only he has seen you like this before. “Shit, you’re creaming on my dick so much you must really love it.” 
“Yes, hee!” The bed squeaks louder with every thrust, a sound you haven’t heard in years. You know it’s wrong, but you can’t help but wish you had gotten with your husband's son because he was doing your body right in every single way, and just when you think it can’t get any better, he pulls out, flipping you over and before you can whine at the loss his cock is already back inside buried to the hilt in your cunt while he gives you the best back shots you’ve ever taken. “Fuck yes,” your voice is muffled by the pillows, and you moan nonstop while he grips your hips holding you in place to fuck you at an animalistic speed as his balls smack your clit over and over again, driving you into a lust filled frenzy where all you wanted was for his dick to be inside of you all day fucking your walls open and spilling his cum in you.
“You’re so fucking perfect wish I could fuck you every single fucking day, every second, every hour,” he punctuated with each thrust, further driving his desire for your body. “Your pussy makes me feel so fucking, Mommy” his eyes roll back momentarily, his mouth parted open, panting uncontrollably as he fucks your cunt deeply, fitting his whole cock inside you, covering himself in your creamy arousal.
You feel like you’re on cloud nine as you lay here being pleasured by the biggest cock you’ve ever taken and being praised by him nonstop. It was the best feeling in the world. You just couldn’t get enough. Your pussy was drooling down your thighs, and even still, you needed and wanted so much more.
Heeseung gathered a ball of spit in his mouth, looking down and letting it fall right on your little twitching rim. He pressed his thumb on your other hole, lubing it up with his saliva before carefully sinking his thumb inside.
Your body jolted when you felt him in both your holes, your eyes rolling back in your head as you took whatever he had to give you because you knew anything he did to your body would feel amazing, and this was no exception.
You felt so dirty having him fill both your holes at the same time, but you loved it. You loved being full of him.
“So fucking tight” he fingered your hole while fucking your pussy which was now clamped down on him even tighter, making his cock feel so good. “Want me to add another?” He bites on his lip to hold back a smile, already knowing what your answer will be.
You nod frantically, chanting yes, yes, yes over and over again into your pillows.
An idea pops into his head. He remembers there was a bottle of lube in the top drawer as well, and he doesn’t hesitate to slow his pace and grab it popping the cap off and smearing it all over your little ass hole so he could easily plunge two fingers in. “How’s that feel having both your holes fucked by me?” 
You cried into the pillows moaning nonstop at the feeling of him fucking both your holes. You arched your back even further so you could take it deeper. “Fuck!” You gripped the bedsheets for dear life while he pleasures you. “Please,” you begged, not even sure what you wanted. You just knew you wanted more.
You placed your hands on your ass, spreading yourself open even wider and giving him full access to fuck both your holes. “Fuck baby, you look so good when you’re full of me” he was in a daze. The way your body reacted to everything he did made him want to try anything and everything with you just to watch you shake and drip and scream for him, and evidently, you wanted the same.
“Fuck my ass, hee, please,” You heard him moan the loudest he has tonight as he pulled out of your dripping pussy and replaced his fingers with the head of his cock and put it on your rim, pushing himself in very slowly.
“Fuck yeah, take it in the ass,” he gasped at the warmth and tightness. All of your holes were so perfect for his cock. He’s truly never felt anything better than you.
“Deeper,” you weren’t even taking a second to fully adjust before asking for more.
He slammed his hips forward, pushing it all in one go, his hands now on your shoulders, thrusting into you deeply. “Ahh shit, take it, take it take this fucking dick,” he groans, going absolutely feral. The dimples in your ass had him mesmerized, and the way it jiggled every time he bottomed out was a fucking sight to behold.
“Oh yes fuck” you mewl, drooling onto the sheets and letting him have you for both your guy's pleasure. Your pussy was still leaking nonstop, dripping on the sheets, little droplets of arousal splashing out with every slam of his hips. He reached his hand under you, swiping it up and sucking it off his fingers, moaning at the taste, and his dick started to twitch.
Sweat was running down his entire body. His breath was uneven, but he kept thrusting just to hear you cry and moan for more, begging for him and only him. “Yeah, that’s right, moan my name, Mommy. Who’s fucking you this good?”
“Heeseung,” you croak out.
“Whose got this pussy dripping?” He digs his fingers into your hip, marking your skin.
“Heeseung!” You cry out when he goes impossibly deep, and his balls start smacking against your slick opening.
“Who’s gonna fill you with cum?” He groans deeply, feeling you clench even harder around his cream-covered base.
“You heeseung just you only you fuck please cum in my ass fill me with your cum” you beg deliriously. The pleasure he was giving to you was mind-altering.
“Gonna cum in your ass, beautiful” he placed his hand between your legs rubbing your swollen clit into oblivion, ripping your first orgasm out of you in no time. 
“Heeseung!” You shook so hard the only thing keeping you up was his grip on your waist as he kept rubbing and rubbing your sensitive clit till you came again. “Cumming heeseung, I’m cumming again.” 
“Cum for me, Mommy, that’s it, that’s it gonna fill this tight little ass with my cum fuck” he moaned loudly as his hips started moving sporadically, thrusting over and over again until he came undone in your ass filling it up with rope after rope of his hot gooey cum. “Yes, yes fuck yes,” he whimpers, slowing his pace and riding out his high spurt after spurt of cum flooding your gaping hole. “Feels so good,” he breathes out, feeling dizzy as he throbs continuously in your hole, giving you every single last drop of his warm cum. 
He collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavily as rolls his hips a little more, working you both through your orgasms. “Hmm, Seung.” You hum in delight as he rests his head beside yours, kissing and licking your cheek until his hips come to a stop.
“Was that good?” He asked tiredly, and you couldn’t even believe he thought he had to ask that you were literally soaked in your arousal and his cum trembling in the aftermath of all the pleasure he gave to you.
Of course, it was good.
“So good, seungie,” he hums, satisfied with your answer.
“I promised I would fuck you good,” he chuckled, kissing your earlobe, and despite his legs feeling numb, he got off of you, pulling out and getting off the bed to gather his clothes.
You laid there lifelessly, too worn out to even move cause that’s just how good he fucked you. “You want me to clean you up a bit?” He offered while pulling the sheets over your spent body.
“No, my husband will be home soon, so it’d probably be best if you leave,” you tell him with your eyes already closed. 
“O-oh,” he nodded to himself and got dressed. “Sleep in tomorrow, yeah?” 
You hum in agreement and open your eyes even though you could feel them starting to close again. “Goodnight, seungie,” you tell him with a tired smile.
“Goodnight, Mommy,” he winks and exits your bedroom quietly.
After going to his room, he lies in bed, smiling to himself now that his imagination has become a reality.
Too bad he couldn’t have you like that every night, but he’d take what he could get, even if it was only one time.
⟱⟱⟱
Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback🩵
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Stay with me || D. Targaryen x Hightower!reader
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GIF by @beaconofthehightower DIVIDERS by @straywords
summary: In which you have been forced into marriage with the Rogue Prince by the King. However, it has been well over a year and the two of you yet to see eye to eye, mostly because of Daemon's dislike towards your father. When you find out that you're expecting, things seem to take a drastic turn.
a/n: no way this was sitting in my drafts since i first opened this acc end of last year🥹
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“The bath is ready for you, my Lady.” The handmaiden bowed at your direction as you finish taking off your jewellery. “Thank you, you may go,” You bid her off, “But my Lady-“ She protested, “I am quite capable of bathing myself, thank you.” Meeting the maidens eyes through the mirror, you didn’t mean to sound rude and snap at the poor women—your pent up emotions needed releasing, hence why you called for a bath.
Without uttering another word, you watch as she closes the door with a loud thud. Throwing your necklace across the room to release the built up tension, you inhale deeply whilst leaning your hand against the bed post. Tears threatening to escape, you look up towards the ceiling so that they would not fall.
Finding out that you were with child was a rollercoaster of emotions. You were saddened at the thought of bringing a child into this cruel word. How could you try to make your child’s life happy when both of his/her parents were not with each other?
You thought that you could some how find times in your marriage that you would be happy, but you didn’t, the past 12 months were a nightmare. You barely got to see Daemon, and when you did, he’d be drunk and fall asleep without saying a word to you.
And the whispers and talks of people seeing him visit brothels in silk street were unbearable. You tried ignoring the best you could, but how could you when people didn’t even put any effort into quietening down when walking past you?
Brushing your lingering thoughts away, you walk to the bath that was bearably hot. Removing your thin night gown and letting it pile in a corner, you couldn’t help but stare at your still-flat stomach in the mirror. The thought of a babe growing inside was both amazing and terrifying.
Slipping your body in, a sigh leaves your mouth at the sensation of the hot water against your skin. After nearly 30 minutes, the door to your chambers opened.
There was only ever one person to open that door without bothering to knock, and that was your Husband. Eyes closed, you heard his footsteps until it came to a halt, slowly opening your eyes and sitting up, you turn your head to find Daemon watching you from outside the door that led to the bathroom.
“Husband.” You greeted turning your head back and closing them once again. “Wife.” He replied, taking off his clothes and changing. You were surprised he did not sound drunk like he usually did most nights. The two of you not uttering a single word until you got out of the bath.
You flinch once you realised Daemon was sat on a one of the sofas that faced your bath tub, not that the two of you were foreign to seeing each other naked. After drying up, you slip your night gown on once again before making your way to your dresser.
“Ao nektogon aōha ōghar, nyke ūndegon” His voice made you pause your actions, looking at his sat figure through the mirror. “2 two months ago Daemon.” You reply annoyed as you brush through your hair. “But you would know if you saw me more often.” Muttering under your breath, Daemon replied, “ȳdragon plainly.”(You cut your hair, I see) (Speak plainly)
Closing you eyes and taking a sharp inhale, you turn your body towards him, a cup with what you presume was alcohol in his hand. “What I mean, husband, is if you were here more often instead of spending your nights at the brothel, that you would notice the little things!” Your voice escalates in volume. Daemon throws his head back with a loud sigh. “Are we really doing this?”
“Where do your loyalties reside, husband? It is most certainly not with me! Whom you swore under the seven Gods that you would be there for me!” You were now standing up as you watch Daemon with an unreadable face.
“Ivestragon mirros!”You yell, “Skoro syt issi ao sir mentioning bisa?” He calmly asked. With furrowed eyebrows, you study his face, his gaze set to candles on the table. “Skoros?”(Say something) (Why are you now mentioning this) (What)
“Don’t act stupid y/n,” He scoffed, finally meeting your eyes, “Emi issare married syt mirri jēda, sir ao decide naejot elēni aōha concerns?” (We have been married for some time, now you decide to voice your concerns)
“Ivestragon nyke, skoro syt?” His deep voice questioned. Searching his eyes, and opening your mouth, no words seemed to come out. (Tell me, why)
“Cat got your tongue, my love?” Daemon smirked as you gulped, tears slowly but surely welling up. You found yourself pathetic, truth being the fact that you couldn’t even tell your own husband you were carrying his child.
Without saying another word, you turned around, blowed out all the candles except for the ones beside Daemon’s side of the bed, and slipped under the covers of your bed.
A loud sigh leaves the Prince’s mouth. Deep down, you wanted him to come to bed and engulf you in a hug. Instead, you hear the sound of the doors opening and closing, he left. You cried yourself to sleep that night.
~
Waking up to a cold and empty bed, you felt it slowly but surely making its way up your throat as you place the back of your hand to your mouth. Luckily, Eva, your closest handmaiden, had walked in just in time as you puked into the bucket.
“Perhaps having breakfast will be good for you, my Lady” She kindly smiles at you as you look up at her with a disgusted face at the thought of food at that moment. “I think not” You grumbled before getting up and getting ready.
“Has my husband returned yet?” Your eyes meet with the handmaidens’ through the mirror as you put earrings on. “No, my Lady” She looks down. “Should I even tell him?” You contemplate, fidgeting with your rings.
Before you could get a response, a loud knock comes from your door as you give a confused look to Eva as she quickly opens the door. “My lady, it’s your father.” She calls out before curtsying and leaving the room.
“Father,” You kiss his cheek to greet him. “I think it is best you go to the throne room now” He gives you a blank look. An awkward chuckle leaves your lips, “But why? What’s happening?” Concern spread through your body as Otto doesn’t say anything.
You quickly brush past him and make a beeline to the throne room. Upon entering, you were stopped by a kingsguard. “Who is in there” You question. “I cannot tell you that Lady-“ “I’m only going to ask you once, brother, who is in there?” You send daggers to your younger brother’s way.
“His Grace, Daemon, and-“ Before he could finish his sentence, you push past him and open the door. There sat Viserys on the iron throne with Daemon standing e of him, his back to you. What perplexed you even more was the women on her knees beside Daemon. A handmaiden to be precise. Viserys gives you a pitiful look, It was only when both Daemon and the handmaiden look back to you when you realise.
“I-“ You couldn’t even properly speak as you choked back tears. You felt like screaming at that moment. “Y/n-“ You didn’t even let Daemon utter another word before you closed the door—Gwayne giving you a concerned look—and sped off back to your room.
“Pack my things. I am leaving” You order your handmaidens as tears continuously roll down your cheeks. You were shaking, you felt like you were suffocating. “Are you all right my lady?” Eva places ger hand on your shoulder as you breathe heavily. “I-I need to get out of this dress- a-and breathe for gods sake!” You shout angrily as hands were already untying your dress.
You had about enough of Daemon’s behaviour. You needed to leave. After being dressed in something more comfortable, the doors open as your father walks in. “I assume you’re going back to Old town?” Your father places his hands behind his back as he watches you gather your jewelry.
“I am. If you expect me to stay here any longer with that-that horrid man then-“ “I don’t expect you to, daughter. He was caught in bed with her this morning. I assure you, that handmaiden will get what she deserves. Sleeping with her Lady’s husband, what was she thinking” Otto scoffs as tears blur your eyes.
“Have you even told him yet?” His question catches you off-guard. “No. After what I just found out I don’t think I will. He can find out later on after I’ve left” You say through greeted teeth as the last of your things were packed up.
“The carriage is already out there waiting for you, my Lady” Eva mentions as you nod at her. “Goodbye father, I hope you do come visit” You sadly smile before embracing him in a hug, his hands caressing your hair before you pull back and walk off.
It was pouring outside. You held your skirt up so it wouldn’t get dirty. “Y/n!” His voice booms over the rain as you pause. You quicken your pace but before you could even fully step into the carriage, a rough hand pulls you back.
Before you know it, your hand makes contact with his cheek with a loud slap. The few handmaidens gasp before they look down. He rolls his tongue against his cheek before chuckling, “I deserve that, don’t I?” “Oh you deserve so much worse Daemon.” You darkly chuckle at the man.
“I can’t believed you stooped that low- and with one of my handmaidens? How pathetic can you get, Husband. I have done nothing but been patient with you every day but this? That was the final straw. I’m leaving and you cannot stop me” You say the last bit through greeted teeth. “Were you going to tell me?”
You stop dead in your tracks. You breathe out from your nose, “Tell you what exactly?” Your head turns to him. “That you’re carrying my child. Was I ever going to find out? Or was I going to when I’m on my deathbed.” He shouts angrily as you keep your composure.
“And bring him up with a father who can’t even keep his loyalties to his wife? You’re delusional, truly.” A loud scoff emits your mouth. Not a second later, Daemon drops to his knees infront of you. People around whispering to each other at the sight of the Rogue Prince on his knees to his wife. You gulp as he looked so vulnerable. He looks up to you as he takes ahold of your hands. “Stay with me. Please. That is all I ask of you y/n” He pleads.
“Stay with you? I have stayed with you every day Daemon while you fucked your way through the brothels. I’ve had enough of hoping that you would finally see me as your wife!” Tears were once again pouring down your cheeks as you sniffle. “I can’t stay with you.” Your voice cracks before you pull away from Daemon’s touch and enter the carriage without looking back.
The carriage starts to move as you start sobbing harder. Daemon was still there kneeling as he watched his wife leave. He watched his entire future leave.
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julienbakerstreet · 2 months
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Ranking Sherlock Holmes Adaptations by the Quality of Their Dressing Gowns
First, my qualifications: I'm a flamboyant fashion-forward femme who frequently wears dressing gowns.
Rubric: I am scoring based on color, pattern, textural intrigue, garment construction, and fit. In cases where there are multiple dressing gowns per adaptation, I picked my favorite one.
#12 The Seven-Percent Solution (1976)
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I hate this one. It's so beige, and the corded details + drop waist ultimately make it look like a monk's tunic. The only redeeming value I can find in this is the slight angled detail with the cording on the sleeves.
#11 Mr. Holmes (2015)
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Similar to the last robe with some slight improvements. For one, it has pockets! The pockets have a corded decorative applique, and if you zoom in on a higher-def image you can see that the fabric has an interesting textured weave. I could definitely see it styled well. This robe is ugly, too thin to keep him warm, and fits worse than a burlap sack, but this Holmes is retired and deserves to put comfort and practicality first.
#10 Granada (1984)
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This dressing gown is BAD!!! Before you accuse me of being biased against mouse-colored dressing gowns (I am) let me assure you that color is not my only issue with this dressing gown. It commits the ultimate fashion sin- boring. The texture looks decidedly un-cozy. I even hate the construction! There's no belt, or even belt loops, and the pocket is sewn onto the outside of the gown! Nothing wrong with patch pockets per se, but on this robe it looks shabby. This is made all the more painful by the fact that Watson wears multiple colorful and well-textured dressing gowns in this show. I love Granada, but I can't excuse this.
#9 Cushing Holmes (1968)
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I really wish I liked this dressing gown more, because I think that Cushing is one of the best-dressed Holmeses we've ever seen. But I simply cannot get behind this. I applaud the bold use of color and how on theme this gown is for The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle, but the red cording and blue looks odd together. In other shots, you can see buttons, but I think a dressing gown should have a nice belt, and I think the buttons are just a bit too formal for what should be a comfortable piece. I love that this is a Holmes who's willing to take a fashion risk, but in this case it did not pay off. 
#8 Soviet Holmes (1979)
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While this dressing gown is boring, the fabric looks nice and heavy, perfect for curling up cozily in front of the fire on a cold night. Contrary to the Granada plain brown dressing gown, this one has a belt and pockets sewn into the gown. There’s nothing interesting about this gown, but it isn't offensive.
#7 Ritchie Holmes (2009)
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Agh! This dressing gown is in tatters! As befits action-hero Holmes, I suppose. It might deserve the lowest spot on the list for its condition, but looking beyond that, I really enjoy the colors and the paisley pattern. It reminds me of a nice Persian rug. The hints of blue set off the reds and oranges nicely, and at one point it must have been a very nice robe. I like that the state of the robe tells us something about the personality of the wearer, but points are deducted because the texture looks a tad rough and it's in an unbelievably rough state.
#6 Basil of Baker Street (1986)
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Now we're getting to the good stuff! The magenta dressing gown is set off nicely by the black cuffs, collar, and belt. Extra points for styling it with a green cravat, and because it nearly matches Dr. Dawson's vest. Great character design, and it makes Basil look like a snazzy little rodent.
#5 Rathbone Holmes (1939)
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It's harder to judge in black and white, but I really like this dressing gown! The fabric looks like a thick cotton velvet, and the cording gives it a lovely contrast. It's distinguished, but it still manages to look comfortable for smoking a pipe next to Watson.
#4 The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes (1970)
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Now this is nice! The velvet is very shiny, slightly green, and I love the quilted collar and pocket. However, upon further inspection, it's not quite a dressing gown, but more like a long smoking jacket, for which it loses points. Still, it's the closest he comes to wearing a dressing gown and perfect for this urbane and fashionable Holmes.
#3 Enola Holmes (2020)
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Dare I say fabulous? I love the cerulean on this one! The fabric looks like a soft silk, which isn't exactly the warmest, but very comfortable. The pattern on the collar is very intricate as well. It's definitely not the dressing gown I would pick for a classic Holmes, but it suits this untraditional Holmes perfectly.
#2 William Gillette (1899)
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For the man who popularized the deerstalker/Inverness combo, he can certainly rock a dressing gown. Definitely the most authentic on the list (this picture was taken in 1916), I love the quilted collar, pockets, and cuffs. The silky fabric and decorative pattern make for a very stylish sleuth. I particularly enjoy the shape of the pockets and cuffs. Points deducted for an awkward fit and the lack of a belt.
#1 Star Trek: The Next Generation (1988)
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"But this isn't an adaptation, it's just an episode of Star Trek!" I don't care! It counts in my heart. And Data has my favorite Holmes dressing gown. Let's break it down. This looks like a velvet gown with a classically Victorian damask pattern. The velvet texture contrasts really well with the quilted silk collar. The twisted cord belt even has a tassel at the end! And to top it off, it's fully lined with bright red silk. It looks comfortable for lounging in, the fabric has a nice heft without being stiff, and the aesthetic is perfect. This is, to me, the ultimate Holmes dressing gown.
Let me know which ones I missed and what your favorite dressing gowns are!
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farmerstarter · 1 year
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The Bachelors and How They Sleep
hello lovelies! Have some more of my headcanons. These HCs are for a gn! reader. If you have any requests then feel free to send me an ask! Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated 🌷🤍
Alex:
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🏈 Moves a lot during his sleep. But he doesn't outright punch you by accident. You always seem to end up being under him.
🏈 Mumbles a lot too. One time, you woke up to him counting to himself, just like how he counts his bicep curls.
🏈 Wakes up early, just a few moments before you. He says it's because he needs to exercise the first thing in the morning. But it's actually because he felt you move out of the bed and he doesn't like to be alone.
🏈 Gives you all the pillows to make you comfortable. He says it's important for your muscles to get a good night's rest. He ends up hogging the blankets.
Elliott:
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🪶 Sleeps like a dead man. He doesn't move at all, save for the occasional turning to the side to snuggle against you.
🪶 It takes him a while to finally succumb to slumber. He says it's because he's used to listening to the waves of the beach to fall asleep.
🪶 Silk pajamas, the man has sets of them. He keeps his hair down while sleeping so you sometimes wake up to your whole face being covered by his locks.
🪶 He's a late riser, mostly because he sleeps late too. He tells you that he writes better at night and he doesn't allow himself to rest until he's finished writing one chapter at least.
Harvey:
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🛩️ Sometimes, Harvey forgets to take off his glasses before he goes to bed. Which is why he has so many broken ones that he tries to hide from you by kicking them under the bed.
🛩️ Professional cuddler. He always makes sure you're in his arms or vice versa. He needs to touch you in order to get a good night's rest. Doesn't matter if you two are spooning or if it's just his hand on top of your arm.
🛩️ Snores a lot. Goes "hoooonk mimimimimi hoooonk mimimimi"
🛩️ I like to imagine him wearing those pajamas that's like just a long night gown and those floppy pointy hats. You know the one.
Sam:
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🎸 Alex mumbles in his sleep, Sam straight up sings. Usually it's outbursts of the choruses of his songs, sometimes he'd hum the tune out. You have a video of him playing air drums while sleeping. You sent the video to Abigail and Sebastian, and they never let Sam hear the end of it.
🎸 He wakes up super late most of the time. But on the rare occasion where he doesn't, he cooks breakfast and serves it to you in bed. Complete with a flower in a vase and everything.
🎸 Always kisses you before he falls asleep. Straight up drags you to his side of the bed to peck your lips.
🎸 Would take off his shirt to put it on you. He says he doesn't want you getting cold at night and waves you off when you refuse, worried about his wellbeing. "I don'T gEt sicK eaSiLy, Babe," ends up in the clinic to get meds the next day.
Sebastian:
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👾 It's my headcanons and I say he moves a LOT during his sleep. So much so that you end up on the floor when you wake up. He refuses to believe that he does that.
👾 His sleep schedule depends on you. He refuses to sleep unless you're already in the house. He doesn't like the feeling of sleeping when he doesn't know you're safe. You'll find him waiting for you on the porch.
👾 Prefers to sleep on the side of the bed where the sun doesn't shine.
👾 Immediately feels it when you get out of the bed. And he wakes up immediately, groggy and needing a few minutes to register where he is. Even if you're just going to get a glass of water, Sebastian would wake up and ask where you're going.
Shane:
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🐣 This man says good night to all the chickens in your coop before he goes to bed, I decided.
🐣 He used to get little to no hours of sleep but after moving in with you, he tries to get enough sleep as possible.
🐣 Hugs you in his sleep, all the time.
🐣 He wakes up the same moment you do, sometimes earlier. He gave himself the job to take care of your farm animals so you don't have to work too hard. So he wakes early to get the job done as soon as possible to spend breakfast with you.
🐣 My brother in Yoba, he would wake up in the middle of the night to get a snack. You would sometimes catch him in the middle of drinking cows milk straight out of the bottle in front of the open fridge.
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v3laryons · 3 months
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idīnagon 彡
; [𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠]
jacaerys velaryon x afab!reader
summary: the time to bed comes quickly after your wedding ceremony. you were nervous but, .. jace was exceedingly nervous. at the time, you weren’t aware of his nerves, and thought he was going to treat you like any man does with a woman in bed.. quick, and only pleasurable for that man. you yet to know the sensational night your husband gives.
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warnings; p in v, oral (fem!receiving), making out, nudity, body praising, arguing, cussing
his smile was delightful to look at. ever since you were betrothed to jacaerys velaryon the world has felt like heaven on your fingertips. he was an exceptional man. he was gentle towards you but extremely strong when it came to his duties. he had a spark in him that nobody saw, except you.
as time went on from the moment you met the prince, you two began doing important assignments together. it seemed he had never wanted to leave your side. bizarrely enough, you never wanted to leave his either.
at the moment, you were in your chambers discussing a sinful act you’ll be committing tomorrow, with baela listening. doubt and worry kept crossing your mind. it was such a simple deed, yet difficult. “i don’t understand your panic my lady, it is such a simple duty.” you paced back in forth, and bit your nails while listening to her. baela stood up and stood beside you. “it shall be alright y/n. if you aren’t decidedly up to the deed, you do not have to commit.” she smiled and huffed, “talk to jace.”
you looked at her unsure at first. then you thought, jace out of all people would hopefully understand your worry. yet, you didn’t want to disappoint your husband. you were also a little curious about how is he is bed..
“as a lady devoted to her husband, i must bed with my husband.” you straightened your posture and smiled at baela.
the day has come. it was finally your betrothal date. you and jacaerys were to be wed during the evening, which was soon to come.
jacaerys stood directly by your side the second you stepped out your chambers. “you look beautiful my wife.” he took your hand, bent down on one knee and gently kissed it. the light peck made you smile. he stood up and escorted you down the hallway.
“you must be nervous,” jacaerys questioned. a sigh was exhaled from your chest. “extremely. i can’t believe the day has arrived.” you glared at him, then your dress. “the gown is goregous, isn’t it husband?” you let go of him to puff out your ceremony dress. he grinned as he admired the love you had for your dress. “it surely is darling.”
after the ceremony you attended a feast with your conjoining families.
“to a new betrothal, and a new velaryon” rhaenyra rose her goblet full of wine. “a toast,” she swung her cup in the air in enjoyment. everyone synced and rose their cups in pride. “a toast.”
rhaenyra sat back down as everyone began to consume their entrees. “are you enjoying the meal darling?” jacaerys asked while wiping his mouth with a cloth. “yes, thank you” you said reassuringly smiling at him.
towards the back of the room, one of the handmaidens sat down and started playing music. her hands elegantly slid across the wooden instrument as she played.
jacaerys turned his head towards you as he put down his utensils. “care to dance?” he put out his hand. you giggled in excitement and joyfully grabbed his hand. you stood up and happily made your way over to the floor
he stood in front of you, pulling your waist close to his. your hands found their was behind his neck, letting you tuck your head into his chest. he hummed as the two of you swayed back in forth. jace made sure he didn’t let go of his faithful wife.
once the music stopped, you regained your balance. the handmaiden bowed after standing up, showing her respect. when she walked out the door you and jace found your way back to your seats at the dinner table. while approaching, you could hear lucerys and your little brother having an argument.
“vhagar is the most destructive dragon. caraxes does not even compare to his size.” luke stated angrily across the table. rhnaenyra took a giant gulp of wine as the boys argued. “just because vhagar is the biggest doesnt mean he has the most power.” your little brother huffed as he crossed his arms.
“alright the two of you, that’s enough. we are here to celebrate the newly weds.” daemon silenced the two arguing boys.
soon everyone was full, and it was time for everyone to head back to their sleeping quarters. jace walked alongside you to your chamber, discussing random things with you. the thought of sex still wouldn’t leave your mind though. it was finally about to happen.
as soon as you approached the door to your chamber you stopped. “is something bothering you?” he looked at you reassuringly. you looked up at him, and sighed. “i’m nervous for the bedding jace..” he huffed.
for a moment, jace stepped back and looked at you.
“my love, so am i. this tradition has struck my mind ever since our betrothal. i’m glad i’m not the only one who is nervous.” he sighed in relief as he put a hand on his chest.
“thank the gods,” you muttered under your breath. jace then opened the door and escorted you into your chamber.
“we don’t have to do anything, wife” jace said as he closed the doors to your bedroom. he walked where he could stand right in front of you, and discuss this matter.
looking at the way he cares for you so deeply made lust run through your veins. you became hot, and weak below. “i want to” you looked up at him with vulnerability.
“may i kiss you?” jace pleaded as both of you were touching noses.
“gods, yes..fuck” you groaned as you leaned into him to kiss him. all of your worries flushed away. he grabbed the side of your face as he leaned in to kiss you. the kiss was slow and passionate, full of desire.
“i barely know what i’m doing” jacaerys said as he pulled away from the kiss.
“it’s okay” you reached your arms out to mingle around his neck. “we’ll figure it out.”
jace smiled as he led you to your bed, propping you up against the headboard. he sat down in front of you and dove in for another kiss. this time, it was much more rough and intimate. your panties became wet as soon as jace started to kiss down your neck. he held the back of your head up for support as you enjoyed the pleasure your husband was fulfilling you with.
you felt him start to delicately suck on your neck. the pressure made you audibly gasp. jace chuckled, seeing how he was making you feel. his free hand made it’s way down to your hip, stroking it up and down lovingly.
“jace..” you pleaded as words scrambled around your brain, thinking what you were going to say next.
“yes love?” he asked while continuing to suck on your neck.
“undress me.”
hearing you say that, jace slowly untied your gown, still kissing you in the process. you hungrily continued to kiss him with passion. the warm grasp he held onto you automatically made you fall in love.
the pair became melted together, wrapped around one another in sweat.
jace finished untying your dress, and he slowly slid it off your warm glistening body.
he stunned in awe, admiring how gorgeous you were. his hands found their way to your hips yet again, stroking them softly.
he hummed, “have your ever heard of kissing..” he paused for a moment, then looked towards your wet underwear “down there?”
you were stunned at such a sinful act at first. but, it sounded so fucking amusing so you complied. “no, but i am pleased to do it.” you smiled at your messy-haired husband. “but first..” you scooted up for a moment to remove his outerwear, “remove these.”
jace’s smile grew so wide in excitement. he quickly stood up to remove all of his clothing. you watched in laughter at his sudden burst of energy to discard his clothes. after nearly a timed record, he stood before you, completely nude. his abs were strongly tightened on his chest. he was beautiful.
the two of you got situated on the bed. jace was sitting in-between your legs, waiting for you to get comfortable.
when you nodded for him to move on, he instantly started to kiss the center of your wet underwear. it was such an ethereal feeling that you’ve never felt down there before.
he hooked his two index fingers around the hem of your panties, slowly sliding them towards your ankles. when they were off, he discarded them somewhere across your chambers, but you couldn’t think about that. he started to kiss below your below button, graciously making his way down. “gevie, (beautiful)” jace quietly muttered while kissing your inner thighs. you grabbed a fistful of his hair to keep your arms from squirming so much.
jace looked up at you, with lust. “ñuha dārilaros (my princess)” he glared into your eyes as his tongue made its way where you craved it.
“fuck- jace..” you sighed as you threw your head back onto your pillows. the grip you had on his air only became tighter as he worked his tongue faster. he surely found his way to your clit from the sounds you made where he put pressure.
the pleasure was almost unbearable. he would tease you, by sliding his tongue in and out of your hole. you weren’t complaining though, it felt astonishing.
you started to feel a sudden buildup below you stomach. it kept intensifying every time jace touched you anywhere. his pace started to slow down and the tension below you started to fade.
“keep going jace,” you croaked out to him. “m-so close.”
he dove right back into your sensitive pussy and started eating it like a devoured man. you felt like you were going to explode. so many different senses and emotions were happening at the same time.
the buildup below you then snapped, and you had never felt so euphoric. jacaerys watched in complete awe seeing you unwind for him. he was extremely pleased with himself for making you feel so good.
after letting you regain full conciseness, jace hovered over you, kissing your plump lips once again. he held your hands to make sure you were as close as possible to him.
“are you ready, raqnon?(love)” he soothingly said over you. instantly, you nodded for consent. he carefully aligned himself with your entrance, sliding inside once he found your heat. he watched your face as you got adjusted to his hard cock.
the feeling wasn’t exactly enjoyable at first, it was more of a burning sensation. jace noticed your discomfort, and came to sooth you. “the pain will be over soon, i promise.” once you were adjusted, he slowly started to thrust, making sure it feels good for you.
“y..you can go faster jace” you pouted under him, wanting to feel him more. with no hesitation, he started to pick up his pace little by little. jace still frets of injuring you. you were delicate to him, he couldn’t let anything hurt you.
he reached his climax and you soon after met him there. it was pure bliss, feeling such an erotic moment together.
he muffled his whimpers by hiding in the crook of your neck. you could feel the hot air of his breath hit your skin. goosebumps rose across your skin as the two of you looked at each other
“that was amazing love,” jace huffed over you, still tired from the intimate moment.
“it indeed was, wasnt it?” you smiled feeling so happy. it was a new chapter. a new home, new family, and a new love.
the two of you ended up falling asleep, entangled in each others arms.
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readychilledwine · 5 months
Text
Mine
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Summary - Cassian always gets a little riled up when he gets to fight for your honor.
Warnings - Blood, smut, focus on reader and Cassian's differences physically, reader is thick because it felt right, oral (female receiving), Cassian going to pound town.
A/N - based on this post and our comments from @loneliestluvr I refuse to apologize for how quickly this became smut.
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Being mated to the Lord of Bloodshed was never easy, especially as an illyrian female blessed to have found him before your wings were taken. “Sorry,” you whispered as he flinched. You had got to the cut on his eyebrow, wiping it down as gently as you could.
Cassian was covered in blood. A mix of his own and another male's who had not known you were claimed by the male sitting in front of you. “You okay?” He had his eyes shut as you took care of him, content under the feel of your soft hands.
“You're the one who ended up in a fight with 6 other males and walked away. I should be asking you that.” You gently reset and healed his nose, silently thanking the Mother for such a useful gift.
Everything about you two had been so perfectly planned. The skilled warrior. Loud, personable, quick on his feet. Then you, the talented healer. Intelligent, shy, soft spoken. You were balanced perfectly. A match truly made by the Gods. You continued wiping the blood from him, ensuring he would not have to change the water multiple times once you got him bathed and stepped away before offering him your hand.
It was another contrast between you two and Cassian's absolute favorite. Your soft manicured hands, his rough and calloused ones. He laced your fingers together, pretending to allow you to pull him up at he stood. “I'm fine, baby. You should see the other guys.” He smiled at his own joke, walking into the bathroom of the cabin. “Are you going to undress me too?”
“Absolutely.” You were graceful with buckle, each tie, gently pulling armor and fabric from his body until it sat on the vanity nearby. Habit took over as you folded it all, putting the clothing into baskets to be cleaned before turning back to the god in fae form behind you.
The moan Cassian released as he sunk into the warm water had your thighs clenching. You watched his head fall back as lavender scented steam came from the tub and as his shoulders fell in relaxation. “Can I wash your hair?” He groaned again at the thought, smiling as you sat behind him with the soap. “Need to show you my love and appreciation for protecting me.”
He gave a breathy laugh, shutting his eyes in bliss as you began massaging shampoo into his wavy locks. “I will always protect you, y/n. Always. You are mine.”
“I am,” he growled at your agreement, his need to possess you was high. Illyrians had always been more feral with their bonds, and you absolutely allowed him to enjoy the primal tendencies that came with it. “I will always be yours. In this life and the next.” You began rinsing his hair, ensuring every spec of blood and dirt was out before applying a deep conditioner.
“Lean forward so I can wash your back, Cassian.”
“I don't deserve you,” he was drifting off under your touch, enjoying the feeling of you kneading sore muscles as you lathered his scarred skin with a soft scented soap. “Could you get my wings?”
You leaned in, whispering in his ear. “I planned on getting them once I got you fully cleaned and the water changed.”
“Fuck that,” Cassian forced you over, pulling you in thin night gown and all before ripping it off of you. His lips were on yours and hungry. He was grabbing your hips, loving their plushy feel. “Want you now.”
“Cass, this water is disgusting.”
His head hit the tub with a thud. “Fine. Fine. It's fine.” He was, in fact, not fine. You could feel how hard he was. His length was pressing into your stomach. “I just need you. You know how I get when you take care of me.”
You were washing him again. Cleaning off his chest and face, scrubbing his arms. He was memorized by you by your body. He remembered learning about the Gods of old from Rhysand's mother, and you had to have been crafted by the goddess of love. It was another contrast. His rock-hard body, toned and cut from years of training. Your soft body, curves landing in all the right places, thighs so thick you genuinely worried when you sat on his face.
He lifted you with little effort when he knew he was clean, climbing out of the water with his lips attached to the point on your neck that drove you wild. “Done waiting,” he carried you to the bedroom, sucking that spot until he knew a deep purple mark would form.
He threw you down on the bed, not caring that it would soak the sheets and mattress as he watched your full breasts bounce. When he was like this, you knew you were in for a ride. Knew that headboard wouldn't be enough to keep you in place as he pounded into you over and over again, only content when he had ensured you were filled and would smell like him and sex for weeks. He was studying you like you were his prey, waiting to pounce at just the right time.
He found it as you shifted, laying down more on the pillows like the queen he knew you were. He did not bother kissing your lips again. Instead, it was him instantly pulling your legs over his shoulders and licking your already soaked core. Your hands shot to his hair, moans ripping through your throat. He was eager tonight. So damn eager.
“Cassian,” he hummed against you, looking up through hooded lust filled eyes. “Slow down.”
He shook his head, not even letting your clit out of his mouth as he did. “Baby, I'm going to cum if you don't go slower.” His brows shot up and a smirk formed. It spoke of every intention he had, you would not leave this bed, not without him carrying you.
Every flick of his tongue, every long drag, the soft kisses all had you melting further Into the mattress as your nerves came to life. Cassian was as calculated in bed as he was on a battlefield. Everything was precise, done with intention, and meant to fulfill his goal. His forearm went against your hips, locking you in place at his mercy.
He could feel every wave of pleasure from you shooting down that sacred and special bond. He could sense the moment you fell. Your fingers tightened on the sheets, your back arched, it was silence before the scream. Between your own pleasure, you could feel his pride leaking down the bond. Pride with how easily he could pull you apart with nothing more than his tongue. Pride over the way your body was so easily his.
He only pulled away when you began to whimper and push, but he was instantly crashing his lips on yours as he kicked off his pants. His forehead went to yours once you were both breathless. Those Hazel eyes you melted in the gaze of were feral and dark with desire. In one smooth motion with no warning, Cassian was inside of you with one single word, “Mine.”
There was no split second of calm before the storm, no moment to catch your breath after he took it from you. Cassian began to pound into you, hitting that perfect spot and making you see stars. Your nails dug into his chest, leaving small marks to join the littering scars and cuts from his earlier fight. “Mine,” the growl was deep, an ancient part of him almost begging for affirmation of the word.
“Yours,” you moaned out for him, back arching as your stomach tightened. “All yours.” Cassian's arm went across your back, hand roughly gripping your hips he could force you to move exactly how he wanted.
You could hardly breathe, mind lost to anything but Cassian. Your mate. Your everything. You could feel him down the bond, feel him getting closer with each squeeze and twitch of your walls. The room was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the sound of his groans and you whispering and moaning his name like a prayer to some long forgotten God. “So fucking beautiful,” his free hand forced your head up, forcing you to watch as his cock slid in and out of your core, soaked in your essence. “Watch me fuck you. Watch me mark this pretty perfect pussy as mine.”
You couldn't help but to moan, feeling that edge approaching faster and faster with his. “Cassie.”
“Do it. Cum on my cock, baby.” He let you go limp below him, placing your head back on the pillows gently as he did. Wave after wave of need and pleasure washed over you, blinding your senses to anything but the feel of Cassian filling you as you Came around him. He fucked you through the high before finally finishing, not even bothering to pull out and opting to instead hold your hips so close to his you could not even tell where he began and you ended.
When he finally let you go, he barely caught himself before collapsing on top of you as his exhaustion hit him. You could help but place soft kissed along his face. His scarred brow and lip, his nose that you'd reset and healed so many times, his jaw. You finally sighed with one last lingering kiss directly on his full lips as he smiled. “That was faster than I hoped it would be.”
“Always is when you fuck me after fighting.”
“Always yours.”
He kissed your neck softly on the mark he made, whispering one last time. “Mine.”
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@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects
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hannieehaee · 5 months
Note
svt s/o who's feminism but mature, who knows her worth who sexy. like she wears pretty sexy nightgowns, gets her nails done, is just so maturely hot. thankkkk youuuu <3
them having a femenine s/o
content: feminine reader, mentions of reader having long hair (long enough to braid or put up), established relationship implied, a lil bit suggestive (?), etc.
wc: 943
a/n: in my mind they are all unconditionally obsessed with their s/o tbh and u can see that rlly well in what i wrotehdjosoos
masterlist
seungcheol -
he always says he wants to be seen as a strong and dependable man, so i think he'd love your feminine disposition (have u seen him with jeonghan ..) he would love paying for your self-care days and would have standing appointments for you to get your nails, lashes and hair done every month (already paid for in advance obviously!!) he'd adooore any time you wore a cute lil sundress for him and would insist on buying you cute lil dresses and accessories so you could show them off to him.
jeonghan -
he has experience with maintenance of long, luscious hair, so he'd always be braiding your hair an drying it for you. gives me the vibe that he would find a feminine s/o adorable. would adore the cute lil charms you put on your nails, letting you do his own nails should you ever ask. he'd join you in your self care days where you did a bunch of facials and take long scented baths. he's a lil feminine himself so you guys would fit perfectly together.
joshua -
he seems very put together himself so i think he'd really feed off of the way you'd routinely get your nails and lashes done, how you'd do your skin care in an almost holistic way. he would love getting to pick your nails and getting you cute lil night gowns to wear. he'd integrate into your beauty routine very well.
jun -
he'd lose track of time just staring at you with stars in his eyes. wouldnt even realize how often he'd just. stare. but he couldnt help it, okay? he'd just find you so amazing and sexy and confident and the prettiest thing he'd ever seen. he'd happily pay for your nails and carry the pretty new bag he'd just gotten for you last week if it meant he could admire you from afar whenever he wanted.
soonyoung -
just constantly dumbfounded by the absolute deity he believed you to be. you were just so confident and sexy and put together and those dresses you wore made your legs look so good that he just- but that's besides the point! soonie would be nothing short of obsessed with you, always in awe of your new set of nails or the pretty new lipstick adorning your lips. super attentive to all the efforts you put in your appearance.
wonwoo -
he'd be so bf carrying your bag and complimenting the cute charms on your nails. would constantly look at you with love and wonder in his eyes any time you modeled your new outfits for him. would humor you any time you asked him if you could paint his nails to match yours. would run his hands over your body any time you wore those soft nightgowns of yours.
jihoon -
he'd be so easily flustered by just how pretty and sexy he found you. you were just the embodiment of feminine and put together. would admire every detail about you, from your nails to your hair to your perfume. he'd be a little intimidated by you, knowing that one look and he'd be on his knees for you. in short, he'd be obsessed with you in every way imaginable.
seokmin -
lol constantly swooning over you and any and every one of your feminine habits. would be fascinated by your nails and the way you always managed to have them done. would love how you always had cute lil outfits ready for every occasion. he'd just be eternally fascinated by every detail about your appearance and how meticulously you had yourself put together.
mingyu -
certified bf who's obsessed with paying for you to get yourself done all over. monthly nail set? he's paying. lashes touch up? his wallet is yours. new wardrobe? his black card will take care of it! he'd feel a brand new sense of satisfaction seeing you all dolled up every day knowing he could provide for you and simultaneously have such a pretty s/o always so well-put together.
minghao -
he'd feel a little cocky at knowing that he was dating the literal embodiment of sexiness and confidence. you two would make such a perfect match bc of how well established your individual styles were, making minghao get a sense of pride at having such an enviable partner. he'd love your feminine aura and would feed off of it.
seungkwan -
he's always tagging along with you when you got a mani or a pedi, joining in to get his treatments done too. would word-vomit compliments at you any time he saw you, always telling you how pretty you looked with your new dress or how cute you did your hair that morning. bf but also a bestie to do all these cute lil feminine things with.
vernon -
i dont think he particularly cares if his partner is feminine or not, but he'd enjoy when you'd ask for opinions on what nails to get next or whether you should do a mud mask or a peel-off mask that day. would absolutely join you when you did self-care days and do masks with you. he'd also like how soft you always felt after those aforementioned self-care days.
chan -
he's so boyfriend coded to me, i think he'd swoon over every little feminine detail about you. would notice your new nails every time you did them. would compliment you even when all you did was get a small trim. would get you flowers that matched your nails at the moment. he'd also have a thing for seeing you in those pretty lacy nightgowns. they felt so soft under his touch when he held you at night.
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grugruel · 9 months
Text
Saint, or Sinner.
Parings: Arthur Morgan x f!reader
MDNI/NSFW
Masterlist
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Summary: You've had feelings for Arthur for quite some time now, but little did you know. That he has them for you, too.
After a rowdy night in Valentine, the group flees lawmen and end up in Strawberrys hotel. Whatever will occur?
Word count: 8.9 k
Warnings: Micha being Micah, bar fight/violence, plot with smut, mutual pining, soft Arthur, pinv sex, passionate sex, oral sex (f recieving), praise, pet names (girl, sweetheart), choking, fingering, handjob, creampie, mentioned masturbation.
AN: The words ran away from me, holy shit. It's so much longer than I intended.
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Muffled voices argued in the night, soon growing into angry shouts. Rousing me from my sleep, confused, I put my gown on in a hurry. Sleep ridden eyes in a dark tent were not doing me any favors. I pulled the flap to the side and stumbled out of the tent, the voices creating one hell of a commotion.
Just as I did, most of the camp had awoken and joined in on the argument, gladly contributing their own heated opinions on the matter. All except Duch and Arthur, much to my dismay.
My eyes adjusted to the scene before me, the assailants quickly becoming clear. Standing around the campfire, was Micah of course, the center of attention as usual. Stood half shouting at John, who's pot seemed to be boiling over.
Soon after, John unleashed a rant on Micahs stupitidy, throwing in every word he could manage in his steaming anger.
I rolled my eyes, what could that damned fool possibly have done now?
'You piss ridden, moldy rat bastard.' John shouts, seamingly leaving Micah lost for words.
Bill bursts out laughing, slapping his knee at the insult, 'You big fuckin nuthead Micah. . .' He sighs, catching his breath.
Even Hosea snickers, 'Hes right, and that's coming from Bill of all folk.'
I cover my mouth as a giggle leaves my lips, seeing Micah so dumbfounded really sobered my mood. The rest of the girls have a simular reaction.
Micahs eyes narrow on me, 'What are ya' laughing at sweetheart. I ought to teach ya' a lesson.' He snarls, greasy hair hanging over his face.
The camp falls silent, none too appreciative of his choice of words. My mood turn sour again and a chill runs up my spine. The first to call him out was Sadie, 'Someone hold me back.' She spits, Sean stepping in to fo judt that.
Second was Miss Grimshaw, 'The money and now you threathen the girl, have you gone and lost your mind Micah Bell?' disgust evident on her face.
The money? What money?
John took a threatening step toward him, very displeased with Micahs comment, hands forming into fists at his sides. Hosea too, gave him a a bemused look.
'Try anything Bell, and I'll cut your fucking balls off.' I spit, glaring at him, feeling incredible joy in the way his face falls.
Muffled chuckles surround me, 'Thats my Girl.' Sadie laughs, along with a low, approving whistle from Javier.
'Whats goin' on here?' A gruff voice cuts in, looking between me and Micah.
Arthur, flanked by Dutch.
Arthur, shirtless. Flanked by Dutch.
In all my anger, my eyes cant help but sneak a hasty glance at his broad chest. Then quickly averting it, afraid he'd notice. I clear my throat, trying to keep my thoughts in check, 'He threatened me.'
That was enough for Arthur, not doubting me for a second. Fixed himself straight up with murder in his eyes, then walked at the man, readying his fists for a beating.
Butterflies fluttered within me.
Unsurprisingly, Micah cowered. Taking quick cautionary steps backward before Dutch could jump in, throwing his arm in front of Arthur and stopping him in his tracks. John looks at the two men, directing an accusing finger on Micah, 'Not only that, this blasted idiot took our money.'
The moment of joy from Micahs humiliation disappear, turning into anger once again. The camp giving him a mutual glower.
Arthur runs a hand through his hair, 'I ought to kill you.' He speaks, gritting his teeth, and takes another firm step forward. Pushing the limits of Dutch's patience, who strengthens the hold on Arthur.
'Surely, there must be a reasonable explanation for this?' Dutchs says, forcing a smile and shooting Micah an expectant look. Giving him an undeserved chance at explaining himself. Although he didn't show it, he too, was bemused.
'Well- I wanted to invest it, make it grow. I just wanted to help the camp.' Micah preached, his voice sleazy and confident. Telling the sure as shit, bull of an excuse as if he was the one to feel sorry for. Despite the circumstances.
Sighing, 'He god damned gamled it all away.' John reveals, looking ready to kill the man himself. The camp erupts into a loud argument once again, everyone getting a piece in.
I sneak a glance at Arthur, his chest rising and falling in big breaths, trying his hardest to stay calm. 'Bastard.' He mutters under his breath, Dutch giving him a quick warning glance.
'Shut!–' a hoarse voice calls out, '–Up!' Dutch yells, and obediently, we all fall silent. 'Theres no use, standin' around screamin'. You fools are attracting unwanted attention.' Dutch says, hands on his hips, 'Who won the funds.'
'Some rich bastard up in Strawberry.' Micahs sly voice cut through the night.
Dutch rubs his forehead in thought, 'Then he can do without it, go back there and grab it.' An exasperated sigh leaving him, 'Arthur, John, Bill, Charles.' He rounds the men up, 'You go there with him.' He turns to go back to his tent, but pauses and shouts, 'And no!–' dragging the words out, '–Deaths!' He looks at Micah, knowing damn well he'd otherwise murder the mans entire family in cold blood, then points to Arthur, 'That means you too, Arthur.' He says, a tired tone to his words. Clearly insinuating that he wanted Micah alive.
Everyone scatters, going back to bed on edge. But I linger, tucked away behind the tentflap. I watch Arthur come back out of his tent, in full get up. Silently praying that'd they'd be alright, that he would be. I did not care what happened to Micah, I hoped the man would get shot right between the eyes. I would personally love to see to it, I hoped Arthurs hatred for the man would get the better of him. Dutch always went way to easy on Micah, I didn't understand it, but something wasn't quite right with it.
Abigail kisses John goodbye, it made me happy to see them back together and all made up. I watch Arthur leave his tent in full get up, then stride past my tent. He gets on his horse with the rest of them, and ride past the treeline of Horseshoe overlook. No doubt berating Micah all the way to Strawberry.
I laid down in my bed, trying my damndest to sleep. But worry was keeping me up, eating away at me. Something didn't feel right.
He'd heard his words to her, him threatening her. Horrifying images cloud his mind, filling him with rage all over again. No doubt things he'd done before. He glanced a glare at the man, ugly mut.
Had Dutch not been there to stop him, Micah would've found his face beaten bloody and Arthur grinning on top of him. Had he not been loyal to the camp, to his people, to Dutch. Micah wouldn't be returning from this trip. He would conveniently get a bullet to his head, or found on the bottom of a valley, beaten unrecognizable before the fall had caused the killing blow.
He didnt want any harm coming to her. He'd never felt this for a woman, not ever. He'd steal glances, admire her when she wasn't looking. Damn well kill for her. She was the light he had needed for so long, her charming smile could shine brighter than any star he'd ever seen.
'You taken a likin' to her, Morgan?'
John raised his head at that, paying closer attention to the conversation, to Arthur. Knowing the possibility of him flying off the handle.
'Shut up if you know what's good for you Micah.' Charles scolded.
He scoffed, 'The day I listen to–' Micha looks Charles up and down, lingering on the color of his skin, 'The likes of you,' he continues, 'Will be my last.' Muttering the last words.
Ignoring him, Charles didn't do as much as raise an eyebrow. Micah did not deserve a reaction.
Micah was black rot, down to his core. Destorying everything he touched. We all knew it, but all aren't so keen to admit it. Dutch was the first person to come to mind, I couldn't understand for the life of me why he was so defensive of the man.
'I can see why.' Micah spoke again, 'Pretty little thing, isn't she?' He looked at Arthur, 'Got a big mouth on her too.'
John looked between the two men, noting the way Arthur fisted his reins, no doubt knuckles turning white under his gloves. Along with the way he kept his head straight ahead, focused on not killing the man, 'Micah, keep her off your tongue.' John warned, 'I don't care for you, but I don't want the heat from Dutch when you're found dead.' His raspy voice referring to him and Arthur.
Charles looked at the men in silent agreement, he preferred staying out of camp conflicts. But she was a woman dear to the camp, touching her would bode ill for any man.
And ad usual, the big idiot doesn't listen, 'Wouldn't mind takin' her for a ride one of these nights.' He said, the self-righteous smile he bore evident even in his tone. There was no need to look at him to know it.
Bill had been staying out of it, but he could feel the anger radiating off of Arthur. Enough to switch sides, hanging back, then stearing his horse up next to Arthur instead of Micah. Just in case a bullet would come flying.
And wouldn't you know it, Arthur reached into his holster and pulled his finest revolver, aiming it at the sorry excuse of a man. All in one quick motion, he'd been labeled as a dangerous for a reason. John sighed, now he'd done it.
Micah, dropped his reins. Raising his hands in the air, keeping a smug expression on his face. But beneath, he was scared witless.
'Strawberry up ahead.' Charles called, not caring much for the action behind him. Killing Micah would only do the camp good, but a gunshot would give their location away.
'Not another word of her.' Arthur began, 'Touch 'er–' He warns, 'And I'll let her kill ya'.' His voice gravelly and threatening, but Micah scoffed at the notion.
The familiar click off a safety lever sounds out, and the color drains from Micahs face.
'House is just up ahead.' Charles cut in, 'I'd suggest you wait wait with this til we got the funds.'
With a final glare, he holsters his gun and rides up to Charles. Clearing a hill, the house comes into view. Arthur sighs, 'Damn it Micah, you didnt tell us this feller had security.'
'You scared of a little fightin' pretty boy?' Micah mocked.
With a scoff from Arthur, they hitch their horses and pull up their bandanas, setting about proving the rumors of the infamouse Van Der Linde gang.
I anxiously checked my father's old pocket watch. It had been a few hours now. I put it down, tried to think of other things, and then picked it up again. Another 5 minutes had passed. Christ. I couldn't bear losing Arthur, John or Charles, god forbid all three of them. Bill could be sweet, but only when he needed something. I couldn't even dare imagine John leaving Abigail and Jack behind. What would they do? Stay with the gang, of course, but. . . Goodness, what about Arthur? My thoughts were racing ahead of me.
A few more minutes pass, then I hear hoofbeats, relief flods through me. It's hard to count, but theres at least three horses. God, let it be the right three. I emerge from my tent, along with Miss Grimshaw, Abigail, the rest of the girls, and Dutch. I race up to Abigail, holding eachothers hands as we watch the treeline in silence. Relying on each other for support.
Eventually, they break through. All five horses returning with their men on top of them, secretly I curse. One of the could've gotten lost and the world would've been a better place for it. I stroke Abigails back while John sees to his horse, then walks up to us, taking her in his arms and spinning her in a circle. They laugh, and a tinge of jealousy spark inside me. Yet I'm more than happy for them.
I observe the rest of them, they seem to be unharmed. All except. . . Arthur, his white shirt covered in blood. The terror must've been evident on my face, because–
'Hes fine.' John spoke, 'Most of it aint even his.' He said in an effort to calm me.
I nodded, smiling faintly 'Thank you John.' And sqeezed his arm.
'Well–' Dutch called out, 'How'd it go?' He looked at them, expecting nothing but grandeur.
'We got more than we bargained for. . ' John said, grinning. But there was something else his tone.
Bill unloaded his horse and came carrying several saddlebags, throwing them at our feet, money spilling out 'We got what we came for—' He paused, then pulled out two more bags from vehind his back, 'And more!' He burst out in a self-satisfied laugh.
I had to say, they made the best out of a bad situation. And on top of it all, Micah had barely made a sound, he was strangely quiet.
Dutch patted Bill and John on the back, 'Good work, wake the rest. Let us celebrate!' He clapped his hands together, no doubt imagining Tahiti.
I searched for him in the crowd of people as the camp was waking up, and found him talking to Charles and Sadie at the edge of the camp, clutching his side. Worry gnawed at me. They joined us by the campfire while Arthur headed into his tent, not saying much of nothing to anyone else.
The festivities carried out throughout the night, Arthurs lamp remained turned on. Eventually, I just had to check up on him.
I snuck away from the folk, Abigail and John had already turned in, as had Dutch and Molly. Seemed like the singles were the only ones left drinking, and Micah had disappeared to sulk somewhere. Lucky us.
I left them to it and approached his tent, 'Arthur?' I called, but didn't get an answer. I just heard some huffing from the inside.
I risked his reaction and pulled the flap to the side, 'Arth-' I began, but got cut off by the sight. In front of me was Arthur Morgan, shirt pushed up over his stumache, cowboy hat on, stitching up his own wound. Sitting on a stool, his pants were unbuttoned and folded down by the hip, revealing that beautiful "V" shape along with a happy trail of hair leading down toward, well. . . A new cut stretched from his hip to his abdomen, blood covered his hands and side, groaning as he pulled a needle through his skin. Something set off inside me, a yearning that made my body ache. He scarcely even noticed me, not until I gasped.
He looked up, eyes widening, 'You need somethin' Girl?' He blurted out, taken off guard. His state of undress did not help.
'Arthur Morgan. . .' I sighed, slightly offended, 'You shouldve fetched me, you know im good at stitchin' wounds.'
'I know, I know. 'm sorry sweetheart.' smiling faintly, 'Didnt wanna bother you.' He drawled.
I also noticed a mostly empty bottle of whiskey next to him, hoping he used most of it to disinfect the wound. I put my hands on my hips, 'Will you let me help?'
He nodded and handed me the needle, fingers brushing against eachother as I grabbed it.
Our eyes met, briefly. Sharing a glance that was ment to be stolen.
He leaned back against his dresser, the muscle of his upper body changing and rippling with his movements.
I cleared my throat and stepped closer, 'May I?' I asked, pointing at his shirt.
'You may.' He smirked.
I leaned closer to him, unbuttoning from top to bottom. Then pushing the shirt over his shoulder so it'd stay clear from his wound. I kneeled in front of him, his legs spread so I could get closer to the cut, then resting my elbows on his strong thigh to steady my arms.
I tried to focus on the wound, but it proved hard as I was so close to his crotch and how closely he was observing me.
'Might I ask what happened?' I bit my lip in focus, threading the needle through his skin.
'More men than expected.' He answered with a grunt, looking at my lips. Blood rushing somewhere it ought not to, 'One jumped out on me.' He continued, his voice husky and strained.
'He live to tell the tale?' I asked, searching his gaze. Hoping he'd be sincere.
'He did. . .' He groaned, as I finished another stitch. Making the aching settle in my core, a pulse running through me. Every now and then, when I believed him not to be looking. My eyes roamed his chest, studying his strong pecks and biceps.
'You know anything about Micahs sudden tongue-tie?' I ask, locking eyes with him. He lowers his head with a chuckle, a smirk poking out from under his hat.
'I might've. . . Given him something to think about.' He shrugs, the corner of his lip tugging.
Sighing, a smile spreads over my lips 'Youre a good man, Arthur Morgan.' I told him earnestly, 'Better than most.' I finished the last stitch and looked at him, 'All d-' I began, but he cut me off.
His lips greeting mine in a passionate kiss, lasting a whole second. But it was the best second I'd had in years. He pulled back, a horrified look on his face. Immidietly regretting it.
Surprised, I did not quite know what to say. 'Arthur, Im- You- You're drunk. .' I blurted, thinking it was the alcohol taking action. Nothing else.
'I'm–' He looked at me, searching for words 'You're right, I- I probably am. Apologies miss.' He managed.
I cursed myself, why'd he have to be drunk? He'd never remember that this even happened tomorrow.
'No- no. That's fine, don't worry. I didnt-' I tried, I didn't mind it. In fact I loved it, is that so hard to say? 'I should, uhm- let you sleep, you need to rest.' Idiot.
'I s'pouse so.' Was all he said, shock and regret still lingering between us.
'Well, good night. . . Mr Morgan.' I said, and he winced. Quickly, I took my leave.
'Night ma'am.' He called after me.
It felt like fleeing the scene of a crime. Bashing myself for the the formal good night, we were way past such pleasantires. It felt like a blow to even utter the words, even though I usually call him Mr Morgan. But it's always in a teasing way. Never formal and distant like this was.
Goodness gracious, what had I done?
I tucked myself under the covers in my own tent, thoughts circling my mind. I could not tear myself away from the smell of him, his musk, his broad build. Or the way sweetheart sounded as it rolled of his tongue, the way his tongue felt against my own. A hand snaked between my thighs, relieving myself of the ache he'd caused. Then slowly, I drifted off to sleep. With nothing but him on my mind.
You god damned fool Arthur, why'd you have scare her away? Old bastard, he thought to himself. Seeing her by his tent had startled him, but her gentle touch and sweet voice was all the comfort he'd needed. It took the sting right out of the needle. He'd used the bottle to clean the wound, but letting her think he was drunk was easier than the truth.
He'd took a liking to her from the moment he laid eyes on her, but she would never feel the same way. She'd called him Mr Morgan, as if the last year of building a relation with her had disintigrated within a second. It stung, real bad. Worse than a knife ever would. Yet that kiss made it all worth it her soft lips against his, her sweet taste. Feeling her breath on his skin as she undid his buttons, and seein' you like that? Kneeling between his legs, so close to him. It was a memory he would cherish through thick and thin, a memory that would keep him up at night. A memory that made him hard in an instant, he let out a frustrated groan. Silenty taking care of it, pretty images of her occupying his mind as he did. Finally, he began drifting off to sleep. And he only had one thing on his mind. She'd called him a good man, that's all that mattered to him.
A week passed, and we'd had a few shallow interactions. Nothing serious, but resembling the akwardness we experienced in his tent, it made my heart sore. I always found a reason to talk to him, to be near him. So when to opportunity arrived once again, I jumped on it. We'd had a full day of chores, but needed to head into Valentine for a supply run, to stock up on things like ammo and vegetables. And just generally take a look around town, see what else we could find. But I don't have a horse of my own, and since Lenny and Sean were taking the wagon.
I found myself in need of a ride.
The sun had begun its final stretch before setting, meaning the light was golden and beautiful. The warm spring air was gradually turning chilly, but in the most soothing way. I joined the crew by the horses, 'Who's willin' to give a lady a ride.' I asked coyly.
Arthurs mouth fell open, as if he was about to speak, but quickly closed it again. 'I always got space for you, girl.' Sadie winked.
'Stop that. . You ol' charmer.' I smile shyly. Arthur couldn't help but smile, nothing but admiration I'm his eyes for you.
'Well-' Micah began, and I immediately rolled my eyes. Arthur glaring daggers at him.
'Shut it, and shave that overgrown squirell off your face.' Sadie interrupted him, Sean erupting into laughter at the comment.
'Why are we even bringin' him? We don't need that kind of trouble today.' I pointed out.
'Cause I say so, sweetheart.' He leers, smugness radiating off of him.
My stumache churns, my dinner almost catching its second wind, 'Dont call me that.' I turn serious.
Micah laughs, about to respond-
'You heard her.' Arthur stops him, making him reconsider opening his mouth again. Instead he opts to mutter under his breath, no doubt the most vile and cruel things too.
John joins us to help get the wagon in order, then sen dus off. Changing the subject back, 'Arthur got the most space.' John points out, 'I'm sure he wouldn't mind.' He winks at me subtly, and I blush. John Marston, you godsend.
'That okay with you Arthur?' I ask, looking up at him with big eyes.
'Course, c'mon sweetheart.' He jumps out of the saddle, grabs me by the waist, and helps me onto his tall, dark shire.
I yelp, unprepared for his strength. He gets back on, placing himself behind me, then grabs the reins on either side of me, capturing me in his big frame. I can honestly say, that I've never felt safer. A content smile covers my lips.
Sadie chuckles at the two of us, the chuckle turning into pure laughter when she sees Micahs expression. Gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, glaring at us, probably furious by my blatant approval of Arthurs use of sweetheart.
And with that, we begin our journey into town. Lenny and Sean were singing behind us, Sadie leading the way ahead of us. And Micah? I didn't bother finding out where he was.
Feeling Arthurs warmth behind me was all I cared about, his chest and thighs rubbing up against me with every step of his horse. It was doing something to me.
As the sun dove deeper, the cool in the air grew. Involuntary shivers took ahold of my body, 'You cold, girl?' He asked.
I shook my head, 'No, I'll be fine. Thank you though, Arthur.' My voice hackig as a particularly violent shiver shook my body, making my teeth clattered against eachother.
'Dont you lie to me, you're freezin'.' He says, worry lacing his tone, 'Take the reins.' That was an order.
I did and his hands slid between us, unbuttoning his jacket. Knuckles brushing against my back, all the way along my spine, ending at the arch of my back. Sending shivers in waves all over my body. 'Scooch down.' He orders again. Slightly hesitant, I slide backward. My ass tucked neatly again his crotch and my back flush again his chest. With his jacket still on, he wraps it around my sides, nearly covering my entire upper body. Sharing eachothers heat, trapping it between us.
'Arthur. .' I breathe, lust coursing through me. But it must've sounded as a protest because-
'-Dont start.' He said, 'My jacket is big enough for the both of us. Now hand me the reins, darlin.'
Oh you wonderful, oblivious man.
I gave them back to him and tugged his jacket closer around me, leaning impossibly closer to him. Gradually, my shivers disappeared, all thanks to the large, warm bear of a man behind me.
'See? Told ya'.' His body shook gently with a silent chuckle.
'You're somethin' else Mr Morgan.' I sighed and this time, the words felt right.
He smiled, she didnt see it, thankfully. Everything she did, made him smile. She was so close to him, and he had indirectly caressed her back. He could've leaned back and given her space, but he craved her. It was intimate and special. He'd not felt so peaceful since she stitched him up last week. Everything he did was at her service. Now she sat between his legs, grinding up against him. Not to her knowledge though, she just moved her hips to the step of the horse, riding like a woman should. But unbeknownst to her, she was feeding a hunger he fought hard to contain. Head in the lions mouth and all.
'Whats on that mind of yours Arthur?' She asked, 'I can feel you thinkin' from 'ere.' Shuddering against him, is she still cold?
If she only knew, what was goin' through his mind. How he thought of you every waking moment, a sentiment she would never return.
'Nothin' special, you still feelin' cold? I can feel you shiverin' Girl.'
She froze for a second before she spoke, chuckling under her breath, 'No I ain't cold, but thank you again.' He could hear the smile on her lips.
What was it then?
'Is the cut heelin' good?' She asked, concern and something else lingering in her voice. The memory resurfaced in his mind, his blood setting about rushing places. He shut his eyes, trying to clean his mind before he answered. Clearing his throat first, 'Good, 'is gonna be a nice 'n clean scar.' His voice lightly strained.
'Well, I'm glad. You got enough of em' for my liking.' She huffed, annoyed at the notion of him always hurting himself.
He risked it, and leaned his head forward, almost touching her shoulder but not quite. Breathing in that sweet scent of hers. Telling himself that it wasn't such a strange thing to do. 'I'll survive, I always do. With your fine stitchin' It's impossibly not to.'
She blushed, turning her face away from his, a bit shy at his compliment. He loved the way her cheeks turned rosy, 'Thank you.' She said proudly, another shudder against him.
Damn it, wad she still cold or not?
He opted out of asking again. She'd just tell him no. So he took matters into his own hands, quite literally. He moved the reins into one hand and circled the other around her waist, pulling her closer. Figuring he could blame it on rough terrain, that he didn't want her to hurt her pretty self.
But she didn't protest, on the contrary. She made a sound, almost like she exhaled a moan under her breath. Then grabbed his thigh, rough terrain too, perhaps? 'Arthur. . .' She breathed.
'I apologise miss, I shouldn't ha–' He began.
'No, no. You should've.' Firm in her words. 'You, remember much from last week?' She asked.
'I do.' He breathed, a nervous shake to his voice.
'You werent drunk?'
'No ma'am.' He answered truthfully, 'I lied.'
'Why?' There was hurt in her voice, and something broke inside of him.
He hesitated, choosing his words carefully, afraid he'd hurt her more, 'Thought maybe it'd be best, since I stepped over a line.'
She scoffed, 'You didn't step over anything, Mr Morgan.'
'Well I. . .' He paused, 'You didnt seem to like it, thats all. Didnt want you to think I was takin' advantages.' He rambled an explanation.
'I didn't want to take advantage of you Mr Morgan.' She sounded annoyed, annoyed by this whole missunderstanding, 'Didnt want you kissin' me drunk, if it was, just cause you were drunk.' She explained, 'I thought you were drunk. . .' sighing.
Puzzle pieces were finally falling into place for the both of them.
'We're here!' Sadie called from the front.
Dissapointed, I sighed. Yet, relieved, I smiled.
Arthur jumped off, grabbed my waist and helped me down. His touch lingering as our eyes met, searching eachothers gazes for answers. Wondering, where to go from here. We were finally on the same page, and knowing he kissed me from his own free will put a sping in my step.
The group broke up, I headed with Sadie as the men got about their business. We looked at the guns first and foremost, then headed for the general store. I looked for Arthur as we walked from building to building, and saw him heading into the stables. I wondered if he was gonna treat himself to a new saddle. He deserved it.
We went about our list of things to buy, then gathered by the wagon. Collectively, we decided on a bar run before we rode back to camp. Lenny and Sean were particularly excited about the idea.
We ordered whiskey, drank and laughed. Sadie and Lenny stood between me and Arthur, resulting in a whole lot of meaningful glances. Just wishing we could talk some more.
At some point a woman had approached Arthur, laying her hand on his bicep, clearly flirting. And my blood ran cold.
I stood talking with Sean, who noticed my change in demeanour and looked over at them. 'Dont worry yourself girl.' He laughed, and I furrowed my brows. Not sure what he ment.
'You gonna buy a lady a drink?' The woman asked, her voice sultry. Now, my blood boiled.
Arthur chuckeled, 'I didnt know I was talking to a lady.' And glanced at her hand, which she immediately retracted upon noticing.
She scoffed, 'Aint that a nice way to treat a woman. You taken cowboy?' She asked, her eyes narrowing on him.
'Well. . .' He huffed, 'You could say that.'
My heart swelled at his comment.
'Told ye so.' Sean smirked, and I playfully hit him on the shoulder.
The night went on, and as most nights go in a saloon, a fight was bound to happen. Arthur must've been watching me, because within the next half minute. A man had walked up next to me, and was about to touch what wasnt his to touch. But Arthur appeared out of nowhere, his outlaw instics mustve been on high alert. The man did in fact look sleezy enough to attempt such a thing, Arthur grabbed the mans wrist in a bone breaking grib. 'You keep your hands to yourself mister.' He said, his voice low and threatening.
'Or what?' The man spit, and Arthur let go of him. Lowering his head, chuckling. That shouldve been the mans warning, but he didn't know Arthur like we did.
Backing me up, Sean whispered 'Get ready.' to Sadie, Lenny and me. Nodding to a table of thugs in the corner, they were staring at our group intently, watching the scene unfold.
Arthur jerked his head to the side and smirked under his hat, then in flash he gave the man a lethal right hook. Sending him flying backward. The thugs sprung up, heading for us with firm steps.
Holy shit. A full on brawl broke out, everyone lunged themselves on everyone. I delivered a right hook of my own as two guys were ganging up on Lenny. Another man tried getting handsy with me, he snuck up behind me and grabbed me around the waist. So I elbowed him hard in the side and threw my head back. Headbutting him, I turned around and pushed him off me. Taking great joy in the way his nose was gushing blood, I grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him in the crotch. With a whine, the man fell to the ground.
Even Micah joined in on the action, he'd been sitting still enjoying his whiskey beside us. Until he decided he wanted some fun too, apparently only he could be inappropriate with me. He smashed the glass over the head on the closest man, although im pretty sure he wasn't even apart of the brawl.
As the dust was settling and the lawmen had been called, we flew the coup. Arthur grabbed my hand and rushed us to our horses, not willing to risk leading the law back to camp, we rode hard and fast for Strawberry. Arthur was making a fuss about me on the ride there, asking if I was ok, and I assured him I was. 'Well. . . You got one hell of a hook girl.' He said, and I beamed with pride.
The gang had to act casual as we arrived to Strawberry, which proved futile with cuts and bruises as we asked for hotel rooms. But we ended up conning our way into possession of the last three hotel rooms. Bribing the clerk that is.
Arthur grabbed a key of his own, which nobody disputed. He gave me a meaningful look at and headed upstairs. Sadie grabbed a key and dragged me along with her. Leaving the last three men to argue about sharing a room, 'Shut up Micah, you're sleeping in the hall.' Sean shouted behind us. Turning around, I saw Micah slamming the doors open and storming out.
'I'll find a woman to warm me, dont ya' worry.' He shouted back, muttering under his breath.
We burst out laughing and ran to our room, but before we headed in, I grabbed her arm 'I'm just gonna go check on Arthur real quick.' I said, not thinking much of it.
'I'll not see you til the morning then.' She laughed, our stolen glances had apparently not been so stolen after all.
I rolled my eyes, 'We'll see.' And knocked on his door.
Lenny and Sean walked by, a low whistle accompanied by chuckles as they saw me standing there. But they quickly turned quiet when Arthur opened the door, standing in only his shirt and pants 'May I come in?' I asked, giving him my best puppy eyes.
'Course.' He smirked, and opened the door wider, stepping out of my way. My side brushing against him as I entered. His vest and jacket lay discarded on the bed, along with his hat.
'About before-' I began, my back turned to him. Suddenly feeling his hands slide onto my waist, pulling me into him. I gasped, not expecting it. He leaned into my shoulder, lips gracing my neck, all the way up to my ear. The warmth of his breath fanning over my skin, making me boil on the inside. It made it difficult to think.
'I want you darlin', all of ya'.' He whisperes, 'If you'll have me–' pausing to place a gentle kiss between my ear and jaw, '–'M tired off missunderstandin's.'
In a haze, I turn around and lay my hands on his chest, having to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. I reach one hand to caress his cheek, brushing at his stubble 'So am I.'
He leans into my delicate touch, nuzzling my hand and placing a soft peck on my palm.
One of his hands sinks its fingertips into the flesh at my hip as the other grabs my arm softly, sliding his hand up to my wrist, gently holding it as he places another kiss there, right on my pulse point. His lips linger, feeling my rapid heartbeat. Gently, he experiments. Sucking and pecking the spot.
A deep ache settles in my bones, fortifying with every kiss he places, deepening with every beat of my heart. And for a second, he feels it too. Meeting my eyes with a smirk, he pulls my sleeve up to cover more ground. Immidietly I feel that my clothes are weighing me down, 'Arthur.' I whisper.
'Hmm?' He hums, focused on kissing what skin he has access to.
Clearing my throat, 'Will you–' I breathe, 'Help me unbutton?'
His eyes meet mine again, searching my gaze for certainty. 'I'll spend the rest of my days doin' your biddin' if it makes you happy girl.'
'It would–' I say, and his hands move to my ribcage, pulling me into his frame. His face an inch from mine as his hands snake around my back, making quick work of each button without batting an eye. 'Oh—' I gasp, surprised by his practiced fingers. 'Should I be jealous?' I ask under my breath.
'No ma'am, none could compete with you.' He assures me.
I feel a blush creep up my cheeks, and in the same moment, he finishes with the last button. Stroking his knuckles over the bare skin along my spine, and sighs. Content. As a shuddering breath leaves me.
Arthur wonders for but a second if shes cold again, until he realises.
'You werent cold, were ya'?'
Immedietly getting what hes reffering to, 'In the begginin' I was.' I tell him truthfully, 'Youre wonderfully clueless sometimes, especially for such a experienced man.'
He chuckles, 'You tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered for me?'
'You were rubbin' against me, pullin' me close. How could I not be?'
'I wasnt–' He protests, '–You were on me if anythin'.'
'Oh so youre tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered then?' I throw his words back at him, smirking happily while doing it.
Arthurs mouth opens and closes, unable to think of a comeback.
'Thats what I thought.'
He scoffs a smile, pushing my blouse off of me, leaving me in my undergarments.
His hands move to my arms, sliding upwards, leaving prickled skin in their abscence. He trails them over my collarbones and neck, his eyes following every inch of movement.
I lay my hands on his hips, holding onto him as my knees grow weeker by the second.
Forming his hands into loose fists, he caresses my cheeks with the backs if his fingers. Gently brushing the knuckles over my cheekbones, pushing strands of hair from my face in the same motion. He flattens his hands and cup my face, big hands draping around the sides of my head. Pulling me closer, he leans into my space. Meeting in the middle, his lips ghost over mine.
My breath hitches when he kisses me softly, his thumbs stroking my temples in soothing motions.
I grab onto his shirt, fisting and lightly pulling on the fabric. Arousal taking the reins completley, making it hard to think. I look at him with hazy eyes, admiration clouding every sense I have. '. . 'S your turn mister.' I breathe.
Smiling, he continues kissing me, 'At your pleasure ma'am.'
With a pleased hum, I trace my hands up his abdomen and over his chest, and Arthur groans in response. The aching pulse in my body stiffens at the sound, becoming more compressed. More focused in my core. Kissing him, I easily unbutton his shirt, making quick work of it, and slide it over his shoulders. Now hooked on his arm folds, it hangs around the small of his back. I sigh happily, what a sight it was.
'You expercied taking men's shirt's off?' He jokes, laughing. Then moves his hands to my waist, clawing softly at my skin.
I slide my arms around his neck, up into his hair. Scrathing his scalp tenderly, 'Well–' I begin, but he bites my lip suddenly, warning me. I yelp, accidently pulling on his hair, and a whine escapes him. My core dripping at the sound as I release a shuddering breath, '. .'M a woman Arthur, I have needs.'
'Yeah?' He questions, 'You needin' right now, woman?' The gruffness in his voice making my fingers curl.
'I am. .' Whining, my kisses turn needy, 'I need you Arthur, always.' I moan.
At that he wraps his arms around me, pulling me tightly into his embrace, his fingers digging into my flesh. He kissed me, hard. Hard like he might just die if let's me go.
'Skirt. . .' mumbling against me, 'Needs to go.' He manages. Without another word, I snake my hands behind my back, untying my skirt a let it fall to the floor. Arthur walks forward, forcing me back until my chins hit the bed and we fall onto it. He puts his weight on me, although supported by his forearms. 'Pants.' He orders, but I was already one step ahead. My hands already moving quickly to undo the buttons on his pants as hes kissing his way down my jaw and neck. Focusing on my sweet spot, hes sucks bruises, turning me into a moaning mess under every breath. Meanwhile, I shove my hand into his boxers. He grunts and shoves his forehead into the crook of my neck as I palm him, overwhelmed by my long lusted for touches. His member was already harder than a rock, and leaking juices. I bring my thump to his tip, stroking his seed in circles. He groans breathely into my neck, his warm breath causing further heat to pool in core. He leans onto one arm, sliding the other along the curves of my body. Cupping my breast through my brasier, 'I want to look at you sweetheart.' He groans and unfolds his arm so that hes above me to meet my eyes, 'Can I look at ya'?' He asks, voice pleading.
I nod, '. . 'Course.'.
Waisting no time, he snakes one hand under my back and lifts me up. I gasp, always surprised by his strength. 'Please, ma'am.' He begs, and I take the hint. My hand leaves his his member and move around my back, undoing the brasier. Throwing it on the floor, he sighs in relief, 'Wanted to see ya' for so long.' He breathes, lowering me back onto the bed and himself onto of me. Immidietly taking one breast into his mouth, and palms the other. Squeezing them, playing with my nipples, using teeth, tounge and fingers. Automatically, my back arches. Pushing my abdomen against his, and accidentally making my mound rub against his crotch. He hums under his breath, his hand leaving my breast and slowly slides down my body, then pulls his mouth off of my breast with a pop. 'Now.' He whispers, kissing his way up to my jaw, then leveling his head with mine, 'Wanna se all of ya'.' his free hand cups my cunt. I gasp from the sudden touch, there's no friction, no movement, yet the aching grows stronger from the warmth of his palm alone. I shut my eyes, trying to come up with an answer. But the presence of him takes up my entire mind, all I can manage is a nod.
Not satisfied, he pushes his palm firmly against my core. 'Look at me girl.' He orders, sliding his middle finger over my slit, undergarments creating a barrier. Making my wetness soak into them, and he chuckles when he feels it. Whimpering, I open my eyes to look at him, and he smirks, 'Good girl.' And plants a kiss on my jaw, 'Use your words this time.' He pecks my lips, then slides his finger over my clit. Lately circling it through the fabric, I swallow hard. Jolts of pleasure surge through my body as something finally gives. 'Want. . . You.' I manage.
'Yeah?' He breathes, and I nod. To which he raises his brows, and pushes two fingers against my core in warning.
Another jolt, '!Mmm, meanin'. . .' Humming a stutter, 'Yes–' I pause, '–Please Arthur. I- I want you.'
'Atta girl.' He praises, then begins trailing kisses down my chest, over my nipple and abdomen, ending at my mound, right above my clit.
My back arches, 'Please. .' I whisper, pleading with him. He pushes back, shakes his already half off shirt completley off, and his pants follow. My eyes go wide at the size of him, hello cowboy.
His hands slide up my thighs, giving reassuring squeezes until he gets ahold of my undergarments. Hooking his fingers under them, he gently slides them off, and the both of us gasp. 'Beautiful.' He murmurs, admiring me. Then bends down, kissing his way up my inner thigh. Winding his arms under my legs and grabbing my waist, then hovers over my cunt, giving me one last look before diving in.
He licks one long stripe up my folds, gathering my wetness on his tongue. Then attaches himself to my clit, generously sucking and circling his tongue around it. I'd been on edge since the night in the tent, hyper sensitive from always wanting him, and finally feeling him on me? It's purely magical, I have to bite my cheek to keep from screaming when he shoves two fingers inside me. Thrusting in and out, curling with every withdrawal. I was already close, 'Arthur, 'm so close.' I moan.
He nods, furthering the movement of his tongue, 'Tell me what ya' needin' girl.' He mumbles against my folds, the vibrations of his voice deepness have me gripping my sheets, clawing it them like a wild animal.
'Need you, need you in me.' I blurt out.
He laughs, 'Im already in you sweetheart.' Causing my back to arch again, oh sweet, sweet vibrations. I throw my head back into the pillow, and his hand slides from my hip to my lower abdomen, 'Be good and lay still now.' Then pushing down with his palm. That combined with his fingers, were– were enough. . .
Blinding pleasure surges through me as I come on his fingers, walls clenching, fluids flowing. I breathe heavily as he laps it up, 'In me Arthur, please.' I whine.
'Youre gonna have to be clearer girl.'
I loose my patience, 'Christ, Arthur! I need you cock in me.'
He smirks, 'Well why didnt you just say so?' His hands push my legs over his shoulders and he climbs on top of me, face to face, he kisses me passionately. Tasting of salt.
His tip graces my entrance, 'You sure, aint you?' He asks, kissing my jaw.
I bury my hand in his hair, 'Mmh, 'm sure.' And with that, pushes inside me. A breathy moan leaves our mouths simultaneously.
'Feelin' just as sweet as you taste sweetheart.' He whispers against my jaw, nuzzling his nose into my cheek and forehead against temple. The pulls out, to the tip, and shoves himself back in. Hard and passionate, he sets perfect pace. Rocking our bodies with every thrust, going deeper than I ever thought to be possible.
'Christ.' I groan, he's hitting that spot inside me with every motion. One hand moves though his back, scratching at it loosely, pulling on hip to get him even deeper. He grunts, in my ear. Might aswell be music, wouldnt be able to tell a difference. He snakes one hand up my torso, grabbing my throat gently and squeezing just enough. Brushing his thumb over my my jugular. Outlaw indeed.
I pull on his hair, to level his face with mine, I wanted his lips, his tongue. 'Kiss me cowboy.' I order, and he follows.
Kissing me deeply, in rhythm with his thrusts, In rhythm with the aching that was finally dulling in my body. Finally, I had I'm. Truly had him. Bliss flows through me as the knot in my stumache tightens, on the verge of my second orgasm. And telling by Arthurs thrusts, he wasn't far away either. In a few more thrusts we both topple over with a breathy moans, Arthur whispering, 'Good girl.' Over and over as his seed was filling me to the brim, seeping out around his member as he collapses on me. My legs falling to the bed. We gather our breaths in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the closeness of the other.
He lays and arm around me, pulling me close as we fall asleep. Both thinking of the other, just not having to imagine what holding the other would feel like anymore.
At some point during the night, Arthur had rolled me off of his arm and snuck out. I was to tired to think much of it, especially since he returned shortly after. By morning I had all but forgotten it, brushing it off as a dream.
As we got dressed and ready the next day, I handed Arthur his hat. He took it, but looked at me, 'Put it on, wanna see you in something of mine.' He says, smiling.
'Gladly.' I chirp, and put it on.
His smile slants, turning into a smirk, 'Now, girl. You know what that means don't you?'
'Why'd you think I was glad to put it on. If not just to tell Micah to shove it.' I chuckle.
'It suits ya' He ruffles my hair with the hat.
We walked out and fetch our horses, the grup giving us mixed looks as the spot us. Arthurs hat declaring to the public of his intentions, that I was his and that we would have a busy night. Sadie smirked knowingly, winking at me. While Sean and Lenny looked happy for us, Micah was the only one who glowered.
'I got a surprise.' He says as he saddles his shire.
'Yeah, whats that?' I tilt my head.
He nods to Sean who runs off, I quirk my eyebrow at Arthur, 'Whats all this?' I ask.
'You'll see, keep your eyes peeled sweetheart.'
Eventually, Sean comes back into view, leading a horse I don't recognize. A beautiful mustang, tan coat, and white forhead. I don't connect the dots at first, 'Sean got a new horse?' I ask, confused.
'Now why would I surprise you with a new horse for Sean?' He asks, chuckling. And the pieces snap into place.
'For me?' I ask, dumbfounded. A million questions circling my head.
'Got her yesterday, had Sean ride and get her earlier this morning. Since I was. . . Occupied.' He smirks.
'That's why you snuck out in the night, then?'
He hums, 'Mhm.'
'Well I'll be. . Arthur Morgan, thank you.' I smile, hugging him. He wraps his arm around me, holding me tightly, afraid I'd otherwise slip away.
'. .'S nothing.' He pecks my cheek, 'Go meet her.'
As we arrived back to camp, we got busy. Late into the night we spent in Arthurs tent, defining the meaning of cowgirl.
The next few hours we rode next to eachother on our way back to camp, flirting and laughing as Saint and I got used to eachother.
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darnell-la · 10 days
Note
how about dark-stepdad!logan and human!female-reader? Like logan just marry her mom so that he can easily get all nasty and pervy with her daughter👀
note: our most active author's birthday was yesterday, so we’ve been pretty busy. we apologize for the gap in our posting but trust me, we have a lot of posts coming. stay tuned!
———
“It’s my big day today, sweet pee,” Logan walked into y/n’s room without knocking. “Hmm?” Y/n asked as she covered herself up and placed her phone to the side.
“I said, it’s my big day today,” Logan repeated himself as he closed and locked her room door. “Room’s coming along. You like it here, princess?” He asked as he made his way over to the young lady.
“Yeah, but I’ll be moving out soon into my dorm. Did you know that mom-“ y/n went to say before Logan cut her off. “About that, sweetheart. Been meaning to talk to you,”
Logan sat down on y/n’s bed, facing her as she covered herself. She was in her laced gown since she had just woken up. She wraps her robe around her whenever she needs to leave the room.
“I can’t lie, but I’ve been a little sad lately,” Logan said, hand rubbing her cover as she grew confused. “Why?” She asked, hoping the wedding he and her mom had just had yesterday, wasn’t a mistake.
“I feel like it’s shitty of your old man, but I’ve just been thinking about me and your mom. Not just since last night, but even before,” the man said, making y/n look down. She liked Mister Howlett and didn’t want him to leave like the rest.
“I’ve just been distracted. Been distracted for years with your mother, but I’ve yet to act on it,” he said. “What’s been distracting you? Maybe my mom or I could help you,” Logan chuckled low as she softly shook his head.
“Oh, you can help me, bub,” Logan’s hand slowly traveled up her thigh, through her covers. “Just had to secure everything before I made a move,” the man said as he tugged on her covers.
“I-I’m not dressed appropriately,” y/n said. “Hey, we’re all family here, right? I don’t think it’ll be a big deal if your stepdad sees his girl,” y/n’s hands loosened, thinking to herself that it should be fine.
“There ya go. Been thinkin’ about you all night, you know? As soon as that ring was placed on my finger, I knew I had you,”
Y/n was confused about what her stepfather was saying as his hand rubbed her bare thigh. “You’ve grown up, bub. Dressed all pretty and rich. You like daddy's money?” He asked her, catching her off guard because she’d never called him dad.
“Y-Yes,” she stuttered as his hand came up to her face, allowing a finger to rub down her lip. “Yes, what, princess?” He asked. “Y-Yes, daddy,” she said, knowing that was what he wanted to hear.
“Good girl,” Logan sat up and climbed under the covers, pulling her body to lay fully so how could hover over his stepdaughter.
“M-Mister Howlett, what are you doing?” Y/n asked, hands on her chest since she had no idea where to put them. She was confused and shocked by his words and touches.
“Ssh, ssh, now. Don’t wanna wake your mom,” Logan said as his finger hooked around her panties. “Mister Howlett! I-I can’t do that,” y/n took one hand to grab his wrist, but he stopped her by pinning it next to her head.
“Nah uh! You lay still,” the man demanded as he continued pulling her panties down her legs until they were off. “Pretty little panties. Always wanted to go underwater shopping with you,” the man said as he took them to his nose.
Logan sniffed hard, taking in every last drop she had let soak into the laces overnight.
“Sweet,” Logan spoke before placing them in his sweatpants pocket. “Mister Howlett, please. I-I can’t do this to my mother,” y/n said, eyes already glossy from the size over her. He was intimidating.
“It’s okay, princess. She won’t know. I promise she won’t,” Logan said as he reached into his sweats to pull out his cock. When he did, y/n felt her heart skin.
She’s had sex before. Multiple times, but Logan was huge, and her mother’s husband. He was her stepdad.
“It’s okay, don’t run,” Logan gripped y/n’s waist to pull her back into him. “Just relax, and it’ll go smoothly. Needa trains you for future days,” Logan said. He wanted to do this more often.
“N-No, Mister Howlett! I-I can’t do this,” y/n went to roll off of the bed, but the man wrapped a hand around her neck, choking slightly so she wouldn’t be able to get out of his hold.
“You’re gonna lay right here and take it. You’re too grown to be worried about your mommy,” Logan pouted at the end as he moved in between her legs. “Logan stop!” Y/n yelled at the man, which surprised him.
The man disconnected his hand from her neck and slapped it over her mouth, preventing any other stupid action from coming from her.
“Gonna have you punish you for that,” Logan harshly pushed at y/n’s entrance, fighting his way through her until her walls fully covered him.
The young lady cried in his hand, feeling an instant pressure grow in her stomach. His size was forcing an orgasm to rip from her system.
“Squeezing me so fucking tight, bub,” Logan said with a rough tone, snapping him instantly to feel her cunt coat his cock. She was a leaking mess.
“L-Logan!” Y/n tried clawing at the man’s chest, but that didn’t phase him. “Fuck, baby- You keep doin’ that, and ima get angry,”
Y/n continued as the pleasure built throughout her body. She couldn’t help the moans that escaped.
For a second, she thought about stopping and letting him take over her body. She felt too good to keep her act up, but she didn’t want to be too easy. She was embarrassed by how good her stepfather made her feel.
So y/n fought harder. Scratching the man aggressively and surprisingly pulling blood. “Fuuuuck!” The man groaned loudly as he gripped y/n’s mouth.
Y/n wanted to keep scratching and make the man stop, but she froze once she saw something she’d never seen before. The man’s wounds healed right in front of her face. It’s like she never scratched him.
“Didn’t want you to find out his way, baby,” Logan spoke after a long pause of silence. The man leaned down, getting closer to her face as he thrusted in her slowly.
“I’m one of those mutants from back then, but that shouldn’t be a problem. All that means is that I can take care of you. I’m the only one that can, sweetheart,”
Logan buried his face into the young girl's neck as she tilted her head back, allowing him to suck. “Gonna treat my little girl so good,” Logan mumbled as y/n slightly wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him close to her body.
Y/n couldn’t think about her mother anymore. Not while Logan was all inches deep in her, twitching and ready to cum. She stayed his good girl for the morning and whenever else he needed her to be.
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fallin2pieces · 3 months
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let's get in the back of your cop car, officer (charlie swan x coquette!reader)
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heavily inspired by playing dangerous by lana del rey <33
cw: MDNI age gap (reader is a freshman in college and charlie is in his 40s), dubcon, p in v, dry humping, blowjob, cunnilingus, choking
authors note: this is my first ever fic! also sorry for the inconsistencies, english isn't my first language :( also lmao this was supposed to be a blurb but i got carried away 😭
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- your parents were away for a business trip which left you home alone during break. you always had the nasty habit of smoking, and being home alone it was an opportunity to smoke inside your house.
- as you were cooking dinner, you were smoking in your kitchen, using your stove top to light a cigarette.
- you lazily dragged the cigarette across your lips, inhaling the smoke as you sat on your kitchen countertop.
- as the night progressed, you washed the dishes and got ready for bed
- little did you know, you've accidentally left the stove on.
- 4:38am. “fuck.” you woke up disheveled in your pink silky night gown, coughing as smoke covered your walls, filling your lungs.
- crying as you run down your stairs, you’ve realized what you’ve done.
- shakily, you reach for the family phone by your paisley printed couch and started to dial the police department as guilt engulfs you.
- “forks police department!” an older man on the other side of the phone responds. you knew it was wrong. you knew it was insensitive. maybe you were just a girl but something about the rasp and the timbre in the policeman’s voice made your insides turn.
- later on, you were sitting on your porch, the cold washington rain dampening the steps you sit on, your hair wet, lips and eyes puffy as you cry from guilt.
- a car pulls up in your driveway as a tall dark figure approaches you
- “ma'am you called, are you okay?” the same hoarse voice from the phone asks.
- you just start sobbing. you were guilty. you’ve already damaged your parents’ house.
- as the older man approaches you, he sits down at the porch with you to comfort you.
- as he sits down the smell of cigarettes and cheap perfume engulfs your senses.
- you look up at the police officer, he was even more attractive (and mature) than you imagined.
- this is wrong. you thought this isn’t the right situation to whore around.
- “i-i didn’t mean to do that officer..” you croak out, you started sobbing and he puts his arm around you
- “my name is chief swan. would you wanna sit in the car as i question you?” he asks.
- you nod rapidly as you got up and walked towards the backseat of the car. "this is the right opportunity" your mind lingered.
- “so what caused the fire?” his voice reverberating inside the empty police car as he closes the car door.
- you admit what you’ve done, stuttering and stuttering through tears.
- he just looks at you "oh poor you so alone and fragile." he thought after all you were just a girl and you didn’t mean any of this
- “officer is there anyway that you wouldn’t press charges?” you looked at him with hungry and intent eyes.
- you felt pretty bare right now. in your light pink nighties. the way he was taller, bigger and had more authority than you do… oh you felt so weak, like a bunny waiting for its predator to attack.
- as messed up as it sounds, this made you feel very warm and fuzzy, his presence made you warm and fuzzy. the way his mustache sits on his face and how his messy brown hair stands up, he looks a little sleep deprived and tired, probably from his police job. he’s just a little older than your parents. just perfect, you thought to yourself.
- you’ve never been attracted to a man his age but something about him being an authority figure made you insides turn in excitement, which made you yearn for more.
- “please officer..” you plead as you get on your knees, very intent to seduce the older man.
- he groans at the sight of you. “no no, sweetie we can’t-” he breathes out as he adjusts himself to try to hide the obvious tent in his pants.
- “officer i’ll be good i promise… just don’t press any charges on me…” you said it’s working you thought as your manicured hands fumble with his silver belt buckle
- “oh my sweet sweet girl.” he groans as he cups your sweet face as his thumb plays with your pink plush lips as he inserts his digits in your mouth making you moan around his fingers.
- “i shouldn’t be doing this.” charlie thought to himself
- you adjust yourself from kneeling, the roughness of the police car’s floormat bruising and ever so slightly scraping your delicate knees
- you use your teeth to unzip his pants as your eyes never leaved his, his hands cupping your face as he tucks your hair away.
- as you palm him through his boxers, wetness pools in your floral underwear.
- eager for some friction, you decided to use your fingers to press on your clothed cunt.
- as you fumble on his waistband, his cock still soft you whimper at the sight of his size.
- oh poor man.. you thought he was probably so pent up, no one probably took care of his sexual needs :(
- you start kissing on his cock sweetly as you look up at him..
- oh the way he stares down at you makes you feel inferior, you moan at the thought.
- slowly, you put his cock in your mouth.
- starting slow… going deeper and deeper you grow desperate for pleasure of your own
- he groans at the sight of you… so cockdrunk.. so needy for him.. it’s been years since someone wanted him this bad.
- “your such a good girl for me.” charlie manages to groan out, he holds you by your throat forcing you to look up
- picking up the pace, you moan and gag around his length sending him over the edge.
- he notices you yearn for attention down there :( so he signals you to stop and he instructs you to straddle him.
- with his cock out, you straddle him, kissing him hungrily as your clothed cunt pressed against his bare girth.
- as you took in his tongue, the taste of gas station coffee and cigarettes intertwined with your saliva.
- he eventually starts creeping his calloused hands to your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as he rides your nightie up making you whimper and soften into his touch.
- as he finds his rough hands up and down your body, he fondles with your breasts, nipples erect from the cold washington breeze, the straps of your nightgown falling to the side as he takes your tits out to look at them.
- oh they were so perky and so soft. he made his way down with his mouth, lapping at your soft skin, eventually finding his tongue wrapped around your sensitive nipple.
- you throw your head back moaning at the pleasure he gave you, rocking back and forth slowly finding some friction as your baby pink painted nails dug crescents into his shoulder.
- he reaches down, to lift the skirt of your nightie, reaching down to your panty clad cunt, taking his thumb and firmly tracing circles on your clit.
- you elicit a moan and collapse into him, his big strong arms supporting you as you reach your high.
- suddenly you felt brave, you pull your panties to the side and you sink down to him.
- “n-no sweetie we can’t-” he whimpers out as you lower into him, as he throws his head back.
- “please officer let me be good.. let me be a good girl..” you cry out in desperation for some relief.
- you just sat there, letting your tight cunt adjust around his big cock your as he wraps his big strong arms around you.
- “baby.. your cunt is so tight.. fuck—” he pants out while looking at your beautiful face.
- you weren’t that experienced per se… only being a freshman in college, having one night stands with guys your age, with no love only lust but with chief swan, it felt intimate and romantic. the way he holds you and kisses you made you melt into his arms. it made you feel like you were cared for.
- slowly but surely you went up and down, savoring his length, you’ve never had someone this.. big and girthy (and mature).
- charlie being on the older side, didn’t have enough stamina, so you were using him like a dildo over bouncing up and down his cock as you looked at how his face was painted with pleasure.
- he looks at you with so much lust and love in his eyes, he haven’t had someone take care of him like this for years.
- he pressed his calloused thumb on your clit rubbing circles making you see stars.
- this was the most pleasure you’ve received from a man.
- “such a good girl for me, taking my cock like this, don’t worry i won’t give you charges princess, no one has to know. ” he looks at you firmly.
- you shake uncontrollably. poor girl can’t take all that cock inside of her :(
- you were making his pants all wet from your juices, all the mixed sensations of him nipping at your soft skin, his thumb pressed to your clit and his cock in you was enough to send you over the edge.
- “fuckfuckfuck-” you whimper out as you come undone on him, your cunt fluttering around his fat cock.
- “you’re doing so good for me.” he says as he carries your waist up as he thrusts inside you and spills his cum inside of you.
- he quickly pulls out, pushing you to lay down on the car seat.
- chief swan got on his knees, pulls you panties to the side and started lapping at your freshly fucked cunt, his mustache tickling your clit as his mouth worked on you.
- you squeezed your legs together, pinning his head steady between your legs as he overstimulated you, as you squirm and pull on his hair.
- he suddenly knelt up, slapping his cock on your clothed cunt, rubbing it up and down your slit.
- your eyes roll back so far back it felt like you could see the back of your skull.
- “officer please-” you moaned out, chest heaving. everything about him was intoxicating. you fucking in a police car only added to the thrill, the scent of sex and his cheap cologne filled your lungs.
- “please what? use your words sweetheart.” he said between groans, as he held your chin with one hand so you could make eye contact with him.
- his thrusts became more erratic and his hips stuttered.
- “please cum on my face officer..” you said embarrassed. you couldn’t believe this filth was coming out your mouth.
- he knelt up, rapidly stroking his length as his seed painted your delicate face.
- meeting chief swan was definitely an experience.
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happy father’s day to all my dilfs out there
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Text
Neighbors With Benefits: Part 1 (Joel Miller x f!reader)
Part of the #hotdilfsummerchallenge (I will be adding more and tag the Masterlist) Thank you @hellishjoel for putting on this contest. It's a lot of fun!
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Word count: Roughly 5000
Warning: Dilfy smut, age gap (23 & 42)
Mid-June, 2024. The first summer back home upon college graduation. You knew there would be an adjustment period and while you didn't necessarily feel unhappy, there was a strangeness that left you with feelings you couldn't quite pinpoint. This was your childhood home, your hometown, your room - but still, somehow it felt foreign.
You hung up the maroon cap and gown that showed off the primary color of Texas A+M, the college where you had spent the last four years studying your ass off to get a degree in criminal justice. At twenty-three years old after spending the last few years in a little off-campus apartment with some friends, you were feeling both aggravated and nostalgic upon returning to your parents' house in the suburbs. They were great and you got along just fine; but the freedoms that had gone along with renting your own place were now reeled in a bit tighter. At the very least you knew your mother would likely stay awake on the nights you were out late. Still, you appreciated how much they cared about you.
You moved to your bedroom window and flung it open to let in some air to get rid of the stuffiness that lingered in the house. Immediately, your eyes landed on a man next door standing behind a grill as smoke filtered up above him in a faint, little cloud. He flipped a burger with a pair of metal tongs and took a sip from what looked like a bottle of beer.
"Hey, honey."
You jumped at your mother's voice as if you'd been caught doing something wrong. "Hey." You pressed your eyebrows together and motioned out the window as she entered the room. "Who's that?"
"Oh, I guess it never came up in conversation," your mother said with a shrug, "That's our new neighbor. He moved in back in January."
You glanced back out the window.
"He’s a bit too old for you,” she teased with a laugh.
You whipped around and made a face. "I'm not... I'm not checking him out. I'm just asking why there's a stranger in the Wilsons' backyard." You smirked and raised your eyebrows, "Maybe if my mother told me things I wouldn't have to play detective."
"Isn't that what you got your degree in criminal justice for?"
You chuckled, knowing she would most certainly outwit you in a verbal battle. "And I'm 23 years old. No one's too old for me anymore."
"Well, in that case I hear they just built a nice, new nursing home down the road with plenty of widowed men. I can drive you there if you'd like."
You let out a hearty laugh. “I’ll pass."
The two of you giggled and your mother continued, "Will you be joining your father and I for dinner tonight? We were thinking of just going to Chili's and then heading to a play at the little theater downtown. The kids are putting on Grease."
You smiled as your phone vibrated with a text from your best friend. "It's Holly."
"So, I guess the answer is going to be no," your mother suspected. She smirked and got the hint. “Keep in touch.”
"Okay," you agreed and then cleared your throat when she turned to go. "Mom, what's his name?"
"Huh?"
"The neighbor," you went on, "I should probably introduce myself since I'm going to be a resident of 45 Harding Drive again."
"Joel," her mother replied, "Joel Miller."
Your parents left soon after and so you wandered out to the back steps, waiting for them to take off first before popping open a beer. The ice cold beverage tasted better than normal because of the incoming summer heat that was supposed to really strike the following morning. With a content sigh, you leaned your elbows back on the top step of the set of four that led from the back door into the oversized backyard.
"Jennifer?" a deep, scratchy voice made you jump for the second time that night. You put a hand on your chest and glanced off to the side when you realized a man had called out your mother's name.
The neighbor, you thought, feeling your stomach knot up.
You cleared your throat and rose to your feet, leaving the beer on the top step. "No… I’m (Y/N)." You took a few steps in his direction though he made his way almost all the way to the steps.
"(Y/N)?" His features became clear when he stepped into a small, back light beside the door. The man flashed a friendly, boyish grin from beneath a trim beard. "Tim and Jen’s daughter?"
You looked down sheepishly and smiled before lifting your eyes to meet his stare. "Yeah."
He’s hot, your inner monologue informed you, as if your cheeks hadn't suddenly grown hot.
His eyes shifted to the beer and his grin widened even more before he extended a hand. "I'm Joel... your neighbor."
"Nice to meet you." You gave a closed-mouth smile and took in his appearance, consciously telling herself not to stare. His plain white t-shirt showed off his broad chest and shoulders
Joel cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's fine," you assured him and then cleared your throat, "Do you want a beer or something?"
A smirk twisted onto his face., "No thanks. I was actually just coming over to see if I could borrow some butter."
"Oh..." You glanced over your shoulder at the back door and then back to Joel.
"You don't have to," he said reassuringly, unable to keep the grin from his face. "You don't even know me yet so-"
"No.” You cut him off, "No, it's fine."
"Are you sure?" Joel's voice cut through you like a knife and he kept his eyes firmly locked on yours.
You nodded, unable to look away for a moment and then waved him inside.
"Don't forget your brew here, honey." He reached down and scooped up the beer as you flung the back door open.
You smiled again, "Thanks."
Joel nodded and followed you in, before glancing around at the modest but modern kitchen. "You, uh... you even old enough to drink this shit?" He motioned to the beer.
You rolled your eyes, "I can show you my ID if that makes you feel any better." You flung open the refrigerator, "I know my parents are going to treat me like I'm in high school again."
"Well... they're just trying to protect you," Joel said. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-three." You glanced over her shoulder at him, somewhat pleased to catch him staring - or so you thought. It prompted him to look elsewhere.
"Here." You removed a stick of butter and crossed the room to hand it to him. When the butter landed in his hand you decided to be bold and didn't immediately let it go, "How old are you?"
He chuckled before holding a wicked smirk and again held her captive with his playfully intense eyes. "How old do you think I am?"
You stared back, somewhat used to gaining control over the guys you had dated or been interested in in the past. Already, this time you felt a bit outmatched and part of it was your instant attraction to him. When Joel took one step in her direction, you swallowed hard and gave a random answer.
"Thirty-two?"
Joel laughed a little louder, putting a hand on his stomach. He ran the other hand through his messy brown hair and pointed. "You're so full of shit."
You smiled at him, "I was thinking more of thirty-eight, thirty-nine."
He sucked his teeth and gave you a look up-and-down before smiling wide again. When he didn't say anything in response you flat out asked, "Am I right?"
"Forty-two," Joel finally informed you after a long pause.
"Over the hill then?"
He snickered and then motioned to the fridge, "Ya know... I will have that beer if you don't mind."
You smiled before reopening the fridge to fetch one for him. When you placed a bottle of Bud Lite in his hand he used the counter to pop the top rather than twist it. When the dented bottle cap fell to the floor and danced in circles for a moment you glanced back up to find him continuing to stare as he took a long swig from the bottle.
Joel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Your dad going to notice that a few of these are missing?"
"They're mine," you informed him, "And I'm not-"
"A kid, I know..." Joel rolled his eyes now and the two of you shared a laugh, "Believe me when you're my age you'll love that someone will accuse you of being younger."
"I'm sure I will."
He reached down and scooped up the cap from the ground and then held it out in his palm. When you went to reach for it he closed his hand and smiled playfully.
"I'll take it," Joel offered, "Don't want you to get caught drinking these things when your parents come home." He continued to tease you about your age.
"You know, I could've guessed you were fifty."
He laughed out loud. "Smart mouth on you," Joel flashed his index finger at her with the hand that held the bottle, "I like it."
You looked down and laughed again, feeling your cheeks grow hot again from his remark.
"Anyway, I should be getting back." Joel continued to smile, almost triumphantly and winked. "It was nice meeting you."
"It was nice meeting you too.”
He held your gaze for an extra second, forcing him to smirk a final time before heading out the back door.
"Thanks for the beer," he said casually, "I'll see ya around."
8:15 pm - the following evening
"Sorry I couldn't make it out last night," Holly said to you. The two of you sat side by side at barstools down at one of the local bars in town. "My boss can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."
"It's fine. I had the house to myself so I kind of just had some time to chill and binge watch some old shows."
"Sounds terrible."
You laughed and shrugged. "It was alright."
"Well, here's to... summer?" Holly raised her martini glass and you tapped her beer bottle gently against it.
"To potentially the weirdest summer of my life."
"Why's that?"
You shrugged, "I don't know. Being back home doesn't feel so 'at home' anymore."
"Give it time." Holly sipped her drink, "In a month it'll feel like you never left."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
"Hey, it's not so bad. I'm here." She smiled and raised her eyebrows, "Jill and Molly should be home within the week too. We can get the old crew back together before we all get real jobs and have to do shitty adult stuff."
"I'll drink to that," you agreed, taking a longer swig of the beer. You sighed and began to peel at the blue Bud Lite label, letting your mind drift to the night before with Joel. You envisioned him snapping the cap off the top of the beer bottle, using the counter. A smile crossed lingered on your face.
"Ooohh... someone's checking us out," Holly commented, "Or maybe they know you..." Her eyebrows pressed together and she motioned using her head toward a table in the corner of the bar.
"Oh shit." You couldn't contain your response but realized it must've sounded out of place.
"What?" Her friend asked, "Do you know him?"
"That's my neighbor," you informed her, "New neighbor."
Joel smirked and gave a wave but quickly entertained a conversation he was having with two other men at the small, corner table.
"He's kind of a Dilf."
You snickered and shrugged, unable to take your eyes off of him. When Joel glanced back in your direction you looked away and quickly took a sip of your.
"You think he's hot," Holly suspected with a laugh.
"What?" You shook your head, "No... I mean he may have some Dilf qualities or something like you just said but…” The sentence drifted off.
"Mm-hmm..." She continued to stare at her friend with playfully accusing eyes.
"Stop," you joked, "I just met him last night."
"Last night?" Holly perked up, "And..."
"And what?"
"You tell me."
You laughed again, "He came over to the house because he needed some butter."
"More like some sugar," she winked and glanced up toward a television that had a baseball game on in front of them.
You let out a hearty laugh and shook your head.
"He keeps looking over here." Holly’s voice perked out, "Oh! He's getting up," Holly whispered, stalking him for a moment with her eyes.
You glanced over and felt your stomach twist in knots when he headed in their direction.
"So you are over twenty-one," Joel cracked a wide smile and tapped the back of her chair as he continued to walk by.
"Twenty-three," you called after him, smiling wide.
He glanced over his shoulder, winking once before continuing on around a corner toward the bathrooms.
You let out a sigh and Holly turned back around.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" her friend asked. Before you could attempt to plead your case Holly went on, "He's hot... and he's totally flirting with you."
"He's not flirting with me."
"That was a Frank Sinatra-worthy wink."
You shook your head, laughing again. "Where do you come up with these things?"
"You're glowin. You're crushing on this guy. Who cares if he's your neighbor. Get on that."
"He's forty-two," you lowered your voice.
Holly raised her eyebrows and glanced toward the doorway where Joel had just walked through before returning her attention to her friend.
"Forget it." You sipped your drink and tried to pretend like you were nterested in the game on the television.
"At least admit you're crushing."
She turned to her and shook her head, "Fine... he's hot. Okay?" You focused on the screen for as long as she could and tried to pretend not to notice when Joel rounded back into the bar. You let out a deep breath as he crossed behind you and felt a rush when he came up beside you to flag down the bartender.
"Another round?" the middle-aged bartender asked, already reaching for a beer.
"Please,” Joel said with a nod, "You can put it on the tab." He turned to you, "Any interest in playing darts over here?" He nodded toward a dart board in the corner.
"Sure."
"Don't feel obligated." He forced your eyes back to his and continued to stare into them.
"I don't." You felt that intense paralysis again and couldn't turn away. When the bartender came back with the round of beers for Joel, you felt relieved and let out a breath.
"Get these two what they want," Joel added to the bartender, "Next round's on me when you finish those."
"Oh, you don't have to-"
"It's fine. I owe you one from last night." He headed back to the small table with his friends and Holly finally snapped you out of your daze.
"I thought you just gave him butter," she whispered with a giggle, "What was last night?"
You swallowed hard and rose to your feet, prompting Holly to do the same. "I offered him a beer and he took it," she said, "It was nothing... believe me. If I had anything interesting to share I would tell you."
Your legs felt heavy as you crossed the dark bar that was scattered with only a handful of other people. While the two other men began collecting darts and erasing the chalkboard to the side, Joel stood staring with his elbow on the table. For a moment everything else was in the background and you could only focus on him.
Shit... Any wit she had going for her had betrayed her. The instant, intense attraction you had to him was completely clouding your judgment. You felt like you were about to enter a wolf den, though you didn't at all mind playing the part of Little Red Riding Hood.
The anxiety-ridden feeling you had had leading up to the game of darts diminished as the night went on. You played a few games, swapping teammates several times, beginning with a 'boys versus girls' theme and then pairing off randomly when one game ended.
"He's going to fuck it up, you watch," Joel taunted as his friend lined up, closing one eye as he released the dart, only sending it clunking off the board and to the ground. "You didn't even hit the fuckin' board." His words drew laughter from everyone and the man that missed stumbled to retrieve it, chuckling as he went.
"I'm fucked up," Skip, the older robust man, remarked as he struggled to pick the dark up from the floor.
"Ya think?" Joel joked, continuing to sip on his beer.
"It's about time I get this man home to his wife and let her deal with him," the other man, Charlie, chuckled from behind a pair of alcohol-induced crimson cheeks. "Can't hold his liquor."
Skip huffed a breath and closed his eyes with a hand on his head. "The old lady's going to be mad at me. Especially when I tell her we've been hanging out with these lovely ladies." He motioned to you and Holly, laughing at himself and making the others do the same.
"I'd leave that part out if you knew what was good for ya," Charlie informed him with another laugh. "Come on Skippy. It's past your bed time."
"Game over?" Holly asked you.
"I guess so." You raised her eyebrows and smiled.
"Charlie, you guys to get home?" Joel asked.
"It's just a quarter mile down the road," Charlie waved a hand. He smiled, "Good night ladies."
"Goodnight," you both said at the same time before Holly turned to you.
"I'm heading to the bathroom. Be right back." She raised her eyebrows, noting it would give you and Joel a moment alone and you tried to play it off coolly.
"Okay." She watched a moment as Holly made her way down the bar and around the corner.
"Hope I didn't kill your girls night," Joel said.
"No." You turned back to him and leaned an elbow on the table, "We were just bored. Had to get out of the house."
"Mmm..." He slid back down into a seat and you took upon herself to join him as you waited for Holly.
Joel leaned both elbows on the table to straddle his beer, "You're probably used to night clubs filled with young guys just dying to buy you a drink. This has to be fuckin' lame."
"I was over that scene by my junior year," you told him with a laugh as you shook your head. "They were all the same with their cheesy cologne and gelled up hair."
Joel huffed a laugh and took a sip of his drink. "Sick of that shit huh?"
"Very." You mirrored his position and continued to sip on the beer you had been milking for the better part of an hour, "I'm kind of over the party scene... and the being at home scene."
"You've been home for one fuckin' day." He raised his eyebrows, "Get over it. You're saving money."
You nodded, "Yeah... yeah you're right."
"I know I am." He smiled, a charming arrogance radiating out of him.
When your phone buzzed in your pocket you jumped and quickly removed it, finding a text message from Holly.
I'm getting in my car. Snuck out the back. Have fun. You'll thank me later.
When you looked back up Joel was grilling you with his eyes. You wondered if he had managed to read the message or not. You cleared her throat. "Holly," you said simply.
"You guys need to go?"
You opened her mouth to speak, still unsure if he had seen what your friend wrote but decided to chance it and lie. "She... got sick. She's on her way home."
"She okay?"
You nodded. “Just a little embarrassed I think and decided to go." You took a sip to buy yourself some time in case he asked any more questions. When he didn't you tried to change the subject. "This place is dead."
"What's so bad about the college scene?" Joel asked.
"Huh?"
"The young guys, the night clubs..."
"Oh... nothing, I guess." You cleared her throat feeling like he was trying to read your mind. Again, your face felt flush with heat and you continued, "They're just... all the same. There's no appeal anymore. When I was eighteen I thought it was cool sneaking into bars and all that." You smiled and shook her head before looking him in the eye. "This is more my speed."
Joel stared back and didn't immediately say anything.
You almost couldn't take the quiet stalemate. The sexual attraction for Joel burned in your chest and in that moment, in the quiet corner of the bar, it was hard to fight it. All the same, you felt like you had to be reading his body language correctly in assuming he was feeling something too. Still, the fact that he was your older neighbor, who you didn't know very well, lingered in the back of your mind.
Getting involved with Joel would satisfy your instant craving for him but beyond that you knew it could only lead to making both of your lives more complicated.
"I'm going to go to the bathroom," you told him, when you couldn't contain your feelings any longer. It was the only thing you could say without leaping across the table and initiating a make-out session that played out animalistically in your mind.
"You gunna disappear on me too?" he joked, though you could see there was a hint of seriousness in his piercing eyes behind the wicked smile that hadn't left his face all evening.
"Not a chance." You felt embarrassed by the bold nature of your words, but took a deep breath and made the long walk across the bar into the restroom area. When you pushed open the door you felt relieved that no one else was in there and quickly made your way to the sink to pat some water on her face. You let out a breath, leaning both of her hands on the counter and then took in your appearance to make sure you was satisfied with the way you looked.
I'm being ridiculous, you thought. I'm too old to feel this out of control over a guy... or a man.
Joel was a man. He wasn't at all like the college boys you had been surrounded by who loved to crush beer cans on their heads, brag about how many consecutive beer pong games they'd won and worst of all when they threw the cheesiest lines at you and your friends to try to get laid. Joel didn't have to say or do anything in particular. He could simply look at you the right way and you found yourself ready to obey any request or demand he threw your way.
I’m in over my head, you thought, but I don't care.
You took in another deep breath and felt like you had the quick break that you needed to hold a sensible conversation with him without the constant interference of your out-of-whack hormones.
"Okay," you whispered to yourself and fiddled with your hair before pulling the door open to head back into the short, dark hallway. When Joel rounded the corner at the same time from the bar both of you stopped abruptly.
His eyes stalked the length of your body before finally re-settling on your gaze.
"Checking to make sure I didn't bail?" you joked, nervously laughing just after. Your tongue danced along your bottom lip, and you couldn't help but look him up and down the way he had just done to you.
Joel swallowed hard, tipping his mouth up into a half-smirk before walking past the men's room door in your direction.
You didn't have time to process all of the questions in your mind because he marched up and planted his lips against yours, immediately penetrating them with his tongue as his hands successfully shoved you up against the door to the women's room. It opened a few inches beneath the force.
You felt an explosion of adrenaline filter through your body as you kissed him back even more savagely than in your daydreams.
Joel pushed the door all the way open with one hand, not separating himself from you as he gripped your ass with his free hand and pushed his hips firmly against yours.
You tangled a hand in his hair, kissing him back with a heated passion that you didn't bother to try masking now that he had initiated the fantasy that had been playing out in your mind since you had him.
He moaned into your mouth before taking a breath and crushing his lips back against yours. Your back collided with the tile wall at the back of the bathroom, and you arched your neck as he began to ravage you, sliding a hand down the front of your pants while gripping your face with the other to kiss you hard again.
It all was happening so fast. You struggled to keep up but couldn't process a conscious thought when his first two fingers slid inside of you.
You bit down on your lip in a break in the kiss and spread your legs wider to give him more access.
Joel left a single kiss on her lips and spoke against them in a husky whisper, "Let it out honey," he kissed you again, "Let it out."
You knew the bar was nearly empty and there wasn't another woman that had been there. Even if there had been you didn't know that you would have cared. When his fingers twitched, arcing perfectly in his technique to make your entire lower body shiver with pleasure, you groaned.
"Fuck Joel," your whined his name, desperate for his tongue to dominate your again as he continued to finger you relentlessly until you felt like you were going to explode.
Joel's arousal heightened when he traced your lips with his thumb of his free hand, prompting you to take the tip of it into your mouth.
"God," he closed his eyes relished in the feeling, pushing his fingers deeper into you.
You whimpered again, writhing beneath his touch and attempted to reach for the belt buckle on his pants. "I want you."
He removed his hand from beneath your slick panties and placed his hands against the wall on either side of you as you managed to undo his buckle and shove his pants down off his hips.
Instinctively, you dropped to your knees, taking in as much of him as you could. Joel moaned and bucked his hips once as he grasped the back of your head with one hand. You looked up, watching his head fall back as his closed eyes pressed shut tighter. Joel allowed you to have your way with him as you continued to go down on him like you might never get another opportunity to do so. "Fuuucckk." He drew the word out, encouraging you to continue as he grabbed a fist full of your hair. "Ohh shit..."
Had anybody walked by the door there would have been no way to mask what was going on. Joel didn't hold back and felt an additional jolt of pleasure when you stroked him with your hand before quietly demanding him to come.
He opened his eyes, letting his mouth hang open as he glanced down, making eye contact with you as you engulfed him again.
"Jesus..." Joel's eyes closed and he felt an unmistakable buildup brewing below his waist. He couldn't ask you to stop, not when he was on the verge of exploding. "I'm gunna come." He shouted the words so loud that you thought for sure that someone had to have heard your encounter from somewhere in the bar. Still, you didn't let up and allowed him to push deep into you, gripping the back of your head with such force that you couldn't have separated your mouth from him if you tried.
He groaned, not attempting to hold back what he was feeling, alternating different curse words in between uneven breaths that ultimately left him panting as you finished him off. With a final breath he released your hair, letting his hand drop toward your face as you wiped a hand across your mouth and slowly rose to your feet.
Joel stood there for several seconds, breathing heavy with his pants at his ankles and a hand still on your face. When he finally came down off the high enough to speak, a chuckle left his mouth and ran a hand through your now-messy hair. "Shit honey... you didn't get yours." He let out another breath and then retrieved his pants from the floor and straightened out his appearance.
"It's alright," you told him with a sly smile, noting the heat that was still brewing between your legs.
He huffed another breath and adjusted himself over his pants before regaining your gaze. Joel smiled and drew his thumb gently under your eye, "Mascara's running. Sorry honey."
You closed her eyes as he continued to wipe the stray makeup away from your face. When you reopened them, Joel sported a half grin and he raised his eyebrows.
"Guess I fuckin' owe ya one."
You snickered, pleased to know that he wasn't at all expecting this to be your only encounter. "Yeah... you do."
Joel took a final, deep breath. "Well... you know where to find me."
"Next door."
"If you see me outside come on over to... borrow some butter or something.”
"Butter..." You snickered and then swallowed hard when he took a step toward her and slid a hand back down the front of your pants.
Joel touched his lips to yours as he spoke and this time gently began to massage up and down your wet center. When your mouth twisted up in a smile and you closed your eyes again he grinned and removed his glistening fingers. "It's a shame this is going to go to waste. Too bad you're so damn good at giving a blowjob. I had all the intentions of fucking you but I could just not ask you to stop.”
"Damn," she said quietly, but smiled, praying he might have it in him to continue.
Joel smiled, reading the disappointment on her face. "I'll be in and out tomorrow," he claimed, "You see me and you feel like bringing me over some butter…”
"I think you’ll definitely need some."
He looked down and made his way to the sink to wash his hands before turning to her with a smile. He ended the night the same way he had the night before, "I'll see ya around."
CLICK HERE FOR PART 2
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starogeorgina · 3 months
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𝐔𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧
Paring: Aemond Targaryen × Targaryen reader, minor Daemon Targaryen × Targaryen reader
Warnings: Swearing, kidnapping, self harm
1.03
“Shh, shh,” you try to gently rock Daenys to sleep. “Please, calm down, sweet girl.”
Your daughter was brought to you in the early hours since she woke up fussy and wouldn’t latch onto the wet nurse. Luckily, she fed from your breast without issue, but your silver-haired baby was still unhappy and crying. From the flush in Daeny's cheeks and the redness in her gums, you suspect she has started teething.
“Princess,” one of the handmaids approaches you while nervously pulling on the sleeve of her dress. You often wonder how the servants who followed Rhaenyra to Dragonstone felt watching the way their beloved princess was treated. “The maester wishes to speak with you as a matter of urgency. There is a wet nurse in the room down the hall; would you like me to take Daenys to her while you dress?”
Reluctantly, you nod and hand your daughter over to the younger woman. As soon as you’re left alone, you bring the faded nightgown over your head and redress yourself, choosing to put on the light grey gown you were wearing the night you were taken. It was made to accommodate the swell of your stomach, and now the extra fabric hung loose down the front. You had others to choose from, but it was one of the only items you had that was truly yours.
In every passing moon, the maester would examine you for any sign of pregnancy, which was humiliating, so you’d at least attempt to try and maintain a shred of dignity. You comb your hair with your fingers and try to straighten out the creases on your dress. Just as you finish adjusting yourself, the door to the room opens, and the maester, followed by a handmaiden, enters.
You were cursed by the ghosts of your father's blindness and your mother's lies. Your mother claimed that before King Viserys died, he declared he wanted Aegon on the throne, and all the men who deemed a woman unfit to rule believed her. Your father turned a blind eye to your family's scheming for years, and now the future of the realm would be full of war, murder, and misery.
As you dig your nails into the palm of your hand to stop yourself from screaming, blaming your parents for this situation was an easy option. If the throne wasn’t usurped, then envoys would never have been sent; Lucerys would still be alive, as would Jaehaerys, and you and your daughter would be safe in Aemond’s arms.
And if your father had been stronger-willed, none of it would have happened.
Being so caught up in your own thoughts, you don’t notice Prince Daemon entering the room. It’s not until you feel his presence beside you that you finally address him, “What is it?”
“A raven arrived from the red keep; one of my little spies has informed Criston Cole and your cunt of a husband that we have taken you north.”
No, no, no.
“They are currently gathering the green forces and will leave in a couple of days. Which means the false king won’t have that hoary old bitch, Vhagar, to hide behind. With only Sunfyre on his side, we can easily take the city back with the mere threat of Caraxes, Syrax, Vermax, Moondancer, and Tyraxes.”
“Need I remind you, uncle, which side my dragon is on?”
Gripping your jaw tightly, Daemon shoved you against the wall. “Need I remind you, niece, that you’re nothing more than a prisoner? I’ve spared your daughter's life, something the fucking kinslayer didn’t do for Luccerys.”
You slap his hand away and say, “You’ve got what you wanted; you're getting another child. Do not fucking touch me again.”
Daemon places both hands firmly on the wall beside your head, caging you in. His eyes flickered over you; he didn’t quite believe what you just said. “The maester confirmed this?”
“I haven’t bled in two moons; the maester is convinced my stomach will swell again soon.” Sarcastically, you add, “Congratulations; I hope you're as excited as I am.”
After speaking with the maester himself, Daemon kept his original promise and had you move to a larger, more comfortable bedchamber with crimson colors and dragon decor, and soon a crib would be brought in and your daughter would join you. All you cared about was keeping Daenys close.
You feel the lavish oils soothing the ache in your shoulders when one of the handmaidens rubs them onto your skin. This was the first time in many moons you had bathed properly, and the luxury of having a clean body, hair, and clothing wasn’t something you’d take for granted again.
“My Prince,” the handmaiden nods her head at him, then attempts to cover you up with a towel, causing your uncle to chuckle.
“It’s considered bad manners to interrupt a lady while she’s bathing.”
“It’s nothing new," he says as he stands at the bottom of the tub, showing no attempt to advertise his gaze from your bare breasts. “Perhaps I wanted to join you in bathing.”
“I’d rather you drowned me.“
Aemond smirks, “Leave us.”
The handmaiden gives you an apologetic look, then leaves. No matter how many times Daemon spilled his seed inside you, the reality of carrying his child never felt real until now. You’d already suffered on the birthing bed out of duty; now you’d be doing it again to keep Daenys safe. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you taste the salty tears on your lips. “What happens if this pregnancy doesn’t end well?”
“What do you mean?”
“I had two other daughters once; both of them died.”
Daemon comes to the side of the tub and crouches down so he’s eye level with you. “I wasn’t aware.”
Red blotches appear on your chest and neck as you struggle to stop your voice from cracking. “The first girl's name was Anya; she came early after three days of labor.”
Your mother had remained by your side throughout your labor, and the look of horror on her face when she saw the ‘thing’ you delivered would be forever etched in your mind. Anya’s skin was covered in small scars that looked similar to dragon scales. But no matter how monstrous she may have appeared to others, you thought she was beautiful. Against the maesters advice, Aemond visited you before the silent sisters had come to take the baby, and it was the first time since the night he lost his eyes that you’d seen him cry.
“I gave birth to Rhaella the following year; she was born at the end of the fall but was taken by the winter fever.“
The expression on Daemon’s face was hard to read; he himself knew of the pain you and Aemond have suffered from losing a baby. And you could only begin to imagine the grief and suffering the blacks felt after Lucery's death. “And news of this never reached Dragonstone?”
Your eyes sting from crying. “Our family has always been divided; who would have told you?”
“My brother.”
“Ha,” you scoff. “You saw what my father was like in the end. He had consumed so much milk from the poppy that he became oblivious to everything around him; the only person he ever wished to speak with was Rhaenyra.”
Frowning, he skims his finger over the water.
“I feared I would never again bear a living child, but the gods blessed me with Daenys. But I shall ask again, uncle, What will happen if this pregnancy doesn’t end well?”
“You do not want to find out, niece.”
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