#satisfaction of being understood

[captain-astors]

Creature. (The rendered ones are referenced from manga panels)

[shalom-iamcominghome]

Hello Shalom! I hope you're having a good day.

I am a lurker on your blog, seeing someone finding so much belonging in another people brings me joy. I'm sending this because of the post in which you were worried you were a philosemite and to be honest it is a worry that has crossed my mind as well as someone who enjoy tumblr content, conversion blogs and enjoyed learning about Jewish cultures and (I hope) becoming a better ally to Jews.

So, my question would be, what is a philosemite and how not to be one? /gen

First: Thank you, I'm so pleased to know you're here - I feel honored to see you 🩵

So, philosemitism is a specific branch of antisemitism wherein people will often fetishize jewish people, jewish culture, or judaism. I call it antisemitism because - much like chasers for trans people - the problem isn't that you (impersonal) find fascination with another group of people. The problem is that you don't engage with jews and jewish culture from the standpoint of being equals, you specifically will characterize whatever it is that's gotten your attention.

With that in mind... I've been trying my best to avoid even looking like a philosemite because I don't want to be one. I think such a big part of that comes with a territory in that... having jews around you who are comfortable and speak about their experiences helps. Engaging with a jewish community has been really helpful - we talk, joke, laugh, and just... engage person-to-person, and it adds that human connection that brings you closer to others. For many philosemites, they are only happy to engage with the idea of jews but not the idea that jews are people with real feelings. So much of my desire not to be like that is being trans and being subject to many chasers (to clarify, a chaser is somebody who specifically fetishizes trans people).

For many minority groups, there are people who are only willing to engage with the minority insofar as that minority is not a person. The moment that person becomes a person, the illusion falls, and the interest is exposed as, essentially, a sham.

I worry a lot that my intentions are unclear to some, that I don't know how to expose my heart any more than it is now. I remedy that by trying to read, learn, listen, and ponder on actual jewish thought and opinion, and try to engage with as much of jewish culture as I can.

Now, to be clear, not every person with an interest in judaism, jewish culture, or allying themself with jews is a philosemite. That is wholly inappropriate to assume, and I would never apply that label broadly to any non-jew who, like you've expressed, wants to be an ally. The problem arises specifically when the tokenization and fetishization makes one believe that jews are not as human (don't have human thoughts, needs, opinions, complexities, feelings, the things that make us who we are).

[galaxyspark-6e16]

“i all ever wanted was to be understood”

[cadisfly]

will is nb but pronouns don’t mean anything to him—like he recognizes them only as reference tools in the languages of thought and communication, literally any pronouns are fine with him because he doesn’t feel that any of these indicators in any way approach or infringe upon his own understanding of himself, he uses he/him in self-reference because it’s easy, it’s disguise, and he’s ambivalent, and pronouns are substitutable

people identifying him as a man and assigning to him the social elements and assumptions about growing up a man and occupying society as a man is.. well, primarily it’s convenient to him, because it gives him a solid framework to understand the person someone perceives him to be, something he can act either with or against, depending on how he wants to be viewed by them, sometimes it annoys him or does ‘bother’ him only because it’s an incorrect assumption and it implies other faulty assumptions, and others’ inability to analyze him correctly is expected but irritating to him

he uses he/him pronouns but he doesn’t think of himself as a man (or as a woman) and he does not identify with masculinity, he preforms it socially to an incomplete degree not necessarily because he likes it or dislikes it but because it is convenient, he gets no satisfaction from presentation in regards to how it is gendered only in how it serves him in the moment and how it makes him feel, there’s plenty about feminine presentation that he /also/ likes and exhibits, most of what you could call his 'good gender’ moments come from traditionally feminine-aligned roles and presentations, but most people fail to recognize these elements of him because they.. don’t really know him, and, again, he’s ambivalent about even considering these qualities to be feminine because to him they are just.. the qualities that as a person he possesses or enjoys or likes to occupy in whatever way he desires

[casinocircus]

I'm not procrastinating with these little dudes i keep making btw! I AM working on other things too, these are just what i feel comfortable posting rn ya feel me?

[hwajin]

☆°. — ᴋɪss ᴇs

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hyunjin x afab!reader

𝐰𝐜: 3.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: oral (afab receiving), very soft, lots of tension

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: something sweet for valentines day!! it's a bit rushed, hope you enjoy it nontheless <33

You lay sprawled across the bed, a book in hand. You had no blanket on you, yet you felt warm, and a heavy weight was pressing you down; Hyunjin was snoring softly against the sensitive crook of your neck, working far better than any weighted blanket you could acquire. His arms, lanky and long, were snaked around you, tightly, holding you so close that you almost didn’t believe that he was sleeping, that he was only pretending so you wouldn’t shoo him off. Not that you ever would, in the first place; you enjoyed being crushed beneath his weight far too much to ever deny his affection and love.

One hand of yours was tangled in his hair, massaging his scalp — you figured it was the very thing which has put him into his semi-deep slumber in the first place, so you only stopped it when necessary, after finishing a page and turning to the next one. Hyunjin's soft grunts of protest never went unnoticed; you huffed in amusement every time your fingers untangled from his messy locks and he sighed out in tired disagreement, before sounding entirely content again the moment your hands found themselves deep in his locks again. It was endearing. You thought you could find eternal happiness right then, right there.

It must have been several minutes, and you were twenty-something pages further in your book when the man stirred, suddenly, without a reason — you were but a statue beneath his body, not moving even an inch to not disturb, to not wake. Yet he stirred, moved around atop your body; his face buried further into your neck, tickling you, his breath hot and intoxicating, burning on your skin. He hummed, arms tightening around you - if possible - and he looked up at you. He was awake, though he didn't look it. His hair was an adorable mess, falling over his eyes and standing to all directions, his eyes barely open and puffy, only a little, and his left cheek wore the imprint of your shirt he had laid on. Endearing. You thought you could find eternal beauty if you as much as looked at him. Even minutes after waking up.

You giggled, softly, your hand still in his hair, still massaging.

"Hi."

He huffed out amusement at that, closing his eyes to bask in your antics at his hair, leaning into your hand, fully at peace. He hummed again, in satisfaction now, in pleasure, and it sent a shock of electricity throughout every fibre of your body. He must have noticed, must have sensed you tensing up, and he smiled - not in malice, simply acknowledging. A shiver ran down your spine then.

"You're still reading, huh?"

Hyunjin's voice sounded quietly through the room, almost melodic, harmonizing with the birdsong outside. It didn't disturb the silence, only added to the atmosphere, leisure, lazy, loving. You nodded at his question, continued massaging the skin in his nape, hummed, then, affirmatively. There was a lot of humming in the room, sighs and huffs instead of words, for words seemed, almost, too heavy; and you understood each other without.

Hyunjin's face buried into your neck again - though not without a plan this time, not to merely rest. He kissed the skin there, softly, patient. Slow. As though dragging out his movements would make the moment last forever. He kissed, open-mouthed kisses, wet kisses, loud kisses, stingy kisses; he couldn't help but bite down on you every other moment, not a lot, enough only to show purest affection, most primal desire.

Your skin was sensitive. You were shivering in his hold, you were shivering at the feeling of the warmth his breath glazed over your neck. He was holding you close, his hands exploring the expanse of your back; though barely noticeable. He was barely even moving his hands, so slow you weren't sure he was at all, until you noticed them laying elsewhere, suddenly - close to your neck, then the small of your back, then wrapping around your shoulders from behind. Always pulling you closer. Always keeping you near, as much as physically possible. You moaned out quietly, softly, barely even audible, but it dizzied him, and Hyunjin bit down against the back of your ear with more fervour than before. You mewled, and you felt him smile against your skin.

When he spoke his next words, his voice was muffled, absorbed almost entirely by your body.

"Read for me. Out loud… please."

You chuckled, not less because the words against your skin sent tickles down the entirety of your body. Hyunjin, despite his wish, stayed buried in your neck; he was nibbling at the lobe of your ear now, kissing there a second after, listening to the way your breath hitched in your throat. He wasn't making a move to separate from you - you tried shoving him off, giggling softly in the process.

"You need to let me... actually read, then"

Your voice was quiet, amused, and followed momentarily by a sigh of pleasure. Hyunjin licked at the goosebumps on your neck, right where it connected to the shoulder; your favourite spot, the most sensitive one. He hummed out in disagreement, didn't as much as raise his head to answer you.

"Just read. While I...", he traced off, kissed your shoulder, touched your waist, squeezed your hips; he looked up at you with puppy eyes, and you nearly lost it all, "...do this..." More kisses to your body; seemingly, he wanted to cover every possible inch of you in traces of his love. If to mark you his, or to remind himself of having you, you weren't sure, but you loved it all the same.

So you read. With his lips on your body, distracting you embarrassingly from the words you tried to make sense of. They didn't quite, and after having read an entire page you lost sight of the plot, entirely. What you never lost sight of, never lost feeling about was Hyunjin's body on your own, his melting into yours. He was consistent, determined, almost. It was pathetic how often your voice trembled and shook when his lips met your body anew; you ought to be used to it already, now that his kisses had reached the expanse of your chest, your collarbones, now that he nibbled right below your shoulders - yet you weren't. You hissed every time his mouth swallowed you whole, every time his wet lips came in contact with an additional inch of your body. You would never get used to it, would never grow tired of him.

You read, and he kissed. Kissed your body away, not leaving a spot of yours undoted. And his hands were sinful. They were wandering, exploring your body while you tried not to lose hold of the book with your own trembling fingers. You tried to keep your composure, tried to be coy when Hyunjin's nimble, cold fingers, far too long for his own good, far too sensual, unclipped the first button of your sleepwear. You stopped reading when he opened the next one - though the man merely looked at you from below his lashes, eyes dark and blown out, urging you on to continue while another kiss met your body. You blinked, once, twice, five times, watching him cover your chest in kisses and love-bites, in spit and hushed confessions. You watched him open another button - at that point your chest lay entirely in the nude, your lack of underwear always delighting the man, and the little bit of stomach Hyunjin had exposed was covered momentarily in his mouth. You watched him, long forgotten the literature in your hands; and then he stopped. Suddenly stopped sucking on your skin, licking and biting on it, easing it with kisses instantly. He stopped moving his hands along your body, too - he looked up at you, expectantly, waiting. You watched him, and he only reciprocated your gaze.

"Read."

Not a command, yet his voice was but a whisper, and it sent thousand shivers to your core. They ran all across your body, the shivers, painting you in goose flesh before they collected right between your legs, right where the man’s body was laying, right where you needed him, right where he was miles away from, seemingly. He wouldn't give in too easily. You knew him - he would drag it out, he would wait on you to continue reading, which, stupidly, you were oh so unable to do, with him all around you, and he wouldn't give you what you craved for before he'd complete his travel on your body, before his lips had tasted every inch of you excessively.

So you continued reading. Shakily, your voice trembling, though you couldn't be embarrassed by it, not when seconds later you felt Hyunjin's lips on your skin again, seemingly satisfied. He had reached your stomach, left wet patches where his mouth met, left love-bites. Left smirks, too; you could feel his amusement on your body whenever your breath hitched in your throat, whenever you restarted a sentence because your voice had trailed off to sighs of frustration. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed that you enjoyed it.

It must have been ages until he had opened all buttons on the flimsy pyjama top you were wearing. You were squirming by then, impatient, intoxicated, needing. Hyunjin lay between your thighs, his face now levelled with your lower tummy, with your core. His arms were snaked around your thighs, holding you close - so close you thought he was scared that you'd slip away if he let go for only a second, but you didn't mind it. You felt his hot breath on your skin, his hotter mouth on the plush of your stomach, the cold breeze against your hardening nipples. Your senses overwhelmed, and Hyunjin wasn't making it easy on you, either; he continued kissing, continued licking, never stopped biting at your body, doting on all his favourite parts, caressing all your favourite spots. He knew you inside and out, he knew the sensitivity of your inner thighs, he knew you enjoyed feeling his breath fawn over it before he gave it a kiss - so he did just that, and he smiled to himself when you mewled out his name. You couldn't keep reading. It was impossible for you to.

"Hyun..."

Your voice was quiet, as though shy; it was needy, too, and if Hyunjin wasn't so focused on basking in your pleasure, he'd blow right then and there. He'd lose his mind over the way your thighs tensed with every kiss he planted there, how your body squirmed when he neared your core, only to pull away again and lick and kiss near your knees. He almost whimpered out in bashful satisfaction at the way you stopped reading, entirely, to call out his name, to let your hands search for his hair, to pull on it slightly when you found it moments later - he lost himself in everything you were, in everything he loved about you.

Though he could keep his composure, just enough. Seemingly mirically, because his body was reacting to your own like flames, igniting one another and impossible to put out. He was as hot as you felt, as intoxicated, just as needing.

"You gotta keep reading, babe."

Another kiss to your inner thighs, an open-mouthed one, a wet one. He was determined to drive you insane.

You whimpered, huffed out in what sounded like amusement. Hyunjin looked up at you, his mouth never breaking contact with your skin. He watched your closed eyes, the way you relished in the feeling of him, the way you were asking for more, silently, wordlessly. The way your body was pleading, the way he could read it without you saying as much as a word about it. He continued kissing, waiting for an answer. He moved slow, giving attention to every inch of your body before he even thought of moving on.

"Feels so good, though."

He trembled at your words. He shivered at the shake of your voice, at the sigh that followed it. He wanted you, he needed you, always. He would never grow sick of it. He would never grow sick of you. You lay there before him, and you wanted him. You lay there so vulnerable for him, and only him. You lay there, and were so honest about your pleasure, pleasure only he could give you; Hyunjin would never grow tired of the way you loved him.

Though, mirically, he continued keeping his composure. Witchcraft, surely, because you were irresistible, having pulled him in entirely, long ago.

"I know... wanna hear you read to me, though."

Your sigh of frustration was music to his ears. The scent of your clothed core, your scent, the feeling of the plush of your thighs, your bare chest, your tortured expression, your fingers in the depth of his hair - it was his death sentence.

"C'mon."

So you continued reading. Because you knew him enough to know he was patient - though, barely, just enough - to not give into you too fast, only to relish in you more. You continued reading, and every further word of yours made him move closer to your core. Shaky words, trembling words, though you made it through one sentence, then through another. And Hyunjin's mouth was closer, and closer, and closer to where you needed him so very urgently.

It must have been ten sentences when his fingers fanned over your waist, the part where your underwear cut into your flesh. He toyed with the elastic band, let it wrap around his fingers, only teased to take it off though never did. Not for another minute, not for another two. He stopped entirely when you stopped reading; only when you picked it up again he continued his ministrations. After a moment or two, Hyunjin pulled down your underwear, though only enough to expose a bit of your pubic bone. You hissed, voice fading almost into nothingness, though you kept reading until a kiss of his met your skin. You hissed again, then, and you were ready to kill him for the past thirty minutes of teasing, and doting, and malice, and loving. You needed him, and you weren’t sure how much longer your patience could hold out.

Hyunjin kissed your thighs. He didn’t leave your core forgotten, though – his mouth sucked onto the plushest part of your inner leg, right below your sex, and his fingers tangled into the waistband of your white, lacen panties, his favourite pair, to take them off you, slowly. If you hadn’t been quick enough, or attentive enough, or far too hyperaware of every of his movement, you wouldn’t have as much as noticed how you, excruciating moments later, lay before him in the nude, almost entirely – only your pyjama top adorning you, though it was barely enough to leave anything to the imagination. And Hyunjin yet took his time, yet didn’t give into you – you weren’t sure how he did it. You were exposed, you were vulnerable; though he acted like you weren’t, for a while longer. His lips painted most frustrating picture on your thighs, travelling to the hollow of your knees – slowly, relishing in your squirming, basking in the way your skin felt against his, as you relished in the way his hands accompanied his lips’ journey along your heated body. You were hot, very much so; Hyunjin ignited you with every touch, with every kiss, with every lick of his sinful tongue – he ignited you, even, with a gaze, eyes so lewd and speaking you didn’t know what was harder; looking straight into them or keeping track of your reading.

And it was when you lost your patience altogether, entirely, finally, that he did, too. It was a mewl, barely a whisper, even; you were surprised Hyunjin heard the weak call of his name in the first place, the plead in your voice, the longing. And it wasn’t a second after that his lips, the ones that had been tracing your body for seeming hours, for and eternity, that had covered you in spit and love and longing and passion, finally connected with your wetness. You were dripping, practically, his tireless teasing having egged you on far more than you were brave to admit. You felt Hyunjin kiss against your clit, lick it right after only to elicit a moan from you – it was embarrassing, how fast you were reacting to him and his body, how very little your composure held; but then again, you were hypersensitive. Had been, ever since he’d opened that first button, ever since a first kiss had fluttered over your body in a manner so loving it pulled at your heart.

Hyunjin’s hands were wrapped around you again, your own – book long forgotten and discarded somewhere next to you – tangled tightly in his hair. With every pull he moaned, groaned deeply into your pussy, and with every of his sound your body jolted, and vibrations set off in the entirety of your body. And he noticed, too, for he never made attempts to quiet down.

The sounds of your pleasure echoed through the room in harmony. The melodies of your names created a symphony, topped off with the lewd noise of his lips against your sex. He was making out with it, was sucking on your clit, kissing it, licking it, sucking it again. He was breathing you in, he was inhaling you entirely; as though wanting to make you his, wanting to annihilate your body with his own, to make one out of two, to melt together for eternity, as though a candle standing too close to the other. And you lost yourself at his passion. You were squirming, screaming, almost, his name, pleads, his name again. You weren’t sure you knew any other words that moment, your own name, even; he was everything you thought of, his tongue now lying flat against your slit and licking in thick stripes the only thing your mind was occupied with. All attempts of keeping your composure were long forgotten; you couldn’t possibly if he made you feel this way, when shocks of fire and electricity shot through your body with every squeeze his hands granted your thighs, and you didn’t want to, in the first place. You didn’t want to keep your composure. You didn’t want to try and not lose yourself in him; because you knew him enough to know he wanted you entirely, in honesty. And you knew him enough to know he lost himself within you all the same.

It wasn’t until two of his fingers teased your entrance, while his tongue flicked across your clit that your body started trembling. As though it was lain in ice suddenly, shaking against your lover who wasn’t giving you a chance to catch your breath. He inserted two digits into your warmth, smiled against your clit at the way you clenched around him momentarily. A soul-ripping whine left your throat then, and your fingers dug into the man’s scalp – it was bound to hurt, though he liked it. He would never not.

And Hyunjin yet moved slow. He didn’t move his fingers, even, for several moments after filling you with them; he kept them still, felt you wiggling around in search of friction. Only after you cried out his name, in obvious frustration, which, anew, made him smile against your sex, his hand started moving. Sensually, patiently, pumping in, then out, then in, then out again – before he curled his long, cold fingers up, and caressed that gooey spot within you. It was too easy, too thoughtless for him. A second nature, almost, the way he knew your body. Almost better than his own.

And you cried out again. You felt Hyunjin pump against your spot, over and over and over until your body felt in flames entirely, until you ignited him with them, until his own desire took over his body, made him feral. He fastened his pace now, sucked a little harsher, cursed a little louder, kissed a little harder. Against your clit, against your heat, against your very vulnerability, the one only he had access to. The one you only ever gifted him – and then you came, when his free hand pulled you closer to his body, tightly around your thigh and groping at your flesh, when the sensitivity tip-toed on the verge of being too much. You came in waves, stormy and urgent, entirely overwhelming. Your body shook, your voice was loud, your eyes were shut so close you saw stars against the darkness; and Hyunjin held you through it. Held you close, held you near to him, as though you’d disappear if he didn’t. As though he almost succeeded in merging your body with his own, in connecting your very souls to one.

And maybe he did. Maybe your body was his own, and maybe his was yours. And maybe your souls had been one and the same the very moment he had first longed for you, had first loved you; had first let his lips dance upon your skin, had first kissed you.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife

[miikapie]

just thinking ab Geto with a crybaby s/o (nsfw)

hi, this is my first time posting on here :33 idk if it'll be the last. i js wrote this when i got bored while studying. i love geto sm guys hes such a sweetheart

warnings:.. dacryphilia (reader cries during the deed), a little bit of infantilisation?, sweet geto hehehee,also slightly out of character geto? idk, missionary, really bad fuckin grammar dont come at me... anything else to put here uhhh js tell me //mdni.// NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

"mmm...missed this..i missed you.."

his hips rolled slowly into you, his hands smoothing over your thighs he hiked onto his shoulders. at this point, you guys have been going at it for a long while; you've orgasmed more times than you care to count (5 times) but ofcourse, because of geto and his crazy stamina, youve been folded on the bed for atleast an hour. he came home from a particularly long and difficult mission and just..needed you. so bad.

he coos sweet nothings into your ears as he always did, kissing at your neck with the occasional groan. the pace he set was so gentle, his tip kissed your cervix with every languid push and pull through your walls.

"you're so sweet...so good to me baby.." he whispers, the sticky noises of your arousal filling the quiet room

you always found moments like this with suguru to be perfect. just him and you, together, where the rest of the world didn't matter. but for some reason today, just something about it all was just so sensual and at the perfect pace..

with his head buried in the crook of your neck, his hand travelled from your waist to your cheek. what he didn't expect to feel was a trail of ..tears?

funny thing is you didn't even realise it. you had your eyes closed and your head buried into the silk pillow beneath you. you were completely immersed in the pleasure, and didnt notice the fat tears rolling down your face.

his pace slows to a stop and looked into your eyes. you thought the way his long hair cascaded over his shoulders made him look so beautiful..especially now. you looked up at him through teary eyes. he looked worried

"hey...is everything okay?" a frown was shown on his face, as he cupped your cheeks and wiped away your tears. "did i hurt you? you're cryin.."

you sniffled subconsciously, your hands placed over his. you smiled sheepishly and look away. "i.. I didn't even notice" he kissed your forehead sweetly, his facial expressions show he finally understood what was going on.

with one hand on your waist again he started rocking his hips, earning a soft cry of satisfaction from you. "fu-fuck.."

"you feel so good you're crying? ..baby.. you're flattering me..." his coy smile appears as he looked into your eyes, watching your expression twist and turn. it was, almost sinister "i wanna see this expression more often....such a crybaby.."

there was something about that new petname he gave you, the way it rolled of his tongue so sweetly, that made your walls flutter around him. he groaned a little, his pace slow and unfaltering. he gripped onto your waist. " you like that? being called a little crybaby?"

your hips bucked into him and you mewl, loudly. "s-stop, dont embarrass me..suguru.." his hips began snapping into you faster as a response.. another tear falls down your face but this time he kisses it away.

" 's not embarrassing..im into it. keep crying. in return ill keep you all nice and stuffed, how about that?"

thanks for reading HAHA

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (2/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, physical abuse, abuse of power, violence, panic attack ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

"Rȳbās." She heard her father's voice in her memories. "Repeat."

"Ribās." She mumbled, rocking her small, short legs as she sat on his knee, looking at the book in which were written the commands by which dragon riders could communicate with their dragons and soar through the skies.

She had only seen Caraxes from afar and always squealed with joy at the sight of him.

It meant she would see her father.

"No." Her father sighed, twisting in his seat. "Rȳbās. Again."

"Ribās." She repeated, this time confident that she had said the word correctly.

Her father rose and set her down on the ground, closing the book, throwing it on the table, her body instantly moving to follow him in a subconscious reflex, a cry escaping from her throat as it always did when she failed to please him, and he walked away.

"No. No, let me try again. Ribās. Ribās. Ribās." She wailed after him, choking on her own tears, watching his silhouette disappear into the depths of the corridor, his short white hair.

She couldn't remember his face.

When her mother's body was found among the hills away from the fortress, voices were raised by people who said that they had seen Caraxes in the skies that same day. She knew that her mother would not have thrown herself off the precipice, and she understood that in doing so her father had freed himself from them once and for all.

She felt satisfaction at the thought that his second wife had given him only daughters.

The gods had punished him.

He had no heir.

She didn't remember her mother's face either, but perhaps that was because she didn't want to recall her disappointment – she knew that she didn't want to carry his child, that she abhorred him, and yet she had been forced to give birth to his daughter.

She knew she should not have been born, and yet she existed.

She decided to pretend that she was the child of ordinary lords, giving up the right to inherit Runestone to one of her cousins in return for being allowed to stay in the fortress. Royce's family, although rather stodgy in their dealings, showed her much care and support – she couldn't say she lacked anything, and her life was peaceful as long as King Viserys lived.

And then it happened.

Two men burst into her chamber, pressing a cloth soaked in some foul-smelling liquid to her mouth which made her lose consciousness and she only woke up in a carriage that was closed on both sides.

For a moment she naively believed that her father had done it.

That he wanted her on his side in the battle for power for his third wife, heir to the Iron Throne.

And then she noticed the emerging silhouette of King's Landing in the distance.

She had only heard of this place from stories: the great Red Keep towering over the entire city and harbour, sunshine and cloudless skies all around it.

She wanted to laugh at the thought that one of her father's opponents had thought they would be able to pact with him because of her.

However, it turned out that she was mistaken once again.

Her one-eyed cousin was like a statue, his jaw drawn and sharply pointed, adding even more severity to his impassive, stony expression. He was proud and vain, she thought at once, seeing the way he stood, erect and sure, one hand holding a torch, the other placed behind his back, sword and dagger strapped to his belt.

Rider of the greatest dragon in the world.

"Do you know who I am, woman?" He asked, and she struggled not to smile, hearing his forced pretentiousness, the choice of his words such as to instantly degrade her.

Of course she knew.

His black eye patch betrayed him.

"It's hard not to guess." She replied.

His pupil narrowed in frustration, his tongue ran over his lower lip in some subconscious reflex.

He didn't like being spoken to like that.

When he was not shown respect.

When he was not feared.

He was weak, she thought.

"Do you understand why you're here?"

She sighed heavily, looking down at her fingers in boredom, feeling nothing but immense fatigue.

"Because of my father, I guess. You are wasting your time. I don't represent any value to him. He will not pact with you for my sake." She muttered reluctantly, wanting to let him know that whatever hopes he may have had of her were vain.

She looked at him surprised when he chuckled, turning his gaze away, staring at her a moment later with a look that made her feel discomfort in her stomach.

"You are mistaken. We need your blood." He hummed, as if he were speaking of the weather, something childishly simple and obvious.

She shook her head, looking at him in disbelief, not understanding what he expected of her.

Were they going to slit her veins?

If someone else drank it, would they be able to become a dragon rider?

"We will find one of the wild dragons hidden in the mountain caves and you will try to claim it. You will die, or you will succeed and join the war on our side." He said lightly, and for some reason she burst out laughing, horrified at how ridiculous his words were.

She was going to claim a dragon?

Were they really that desperate?

"I know nothing about dragons or their riders and have no desire to learn about them. This, I think, is something that is destined for those endowed by the gods with white hair. I have no intention of sacrificing myself for your family. Behead me or burn me, but spare me this farce." She said mockingly, looking away, recognising that this man had simply lost his mind.

She shuddered and rose from her knees when, a moment later, he opened the door of her cell and rushed in like an enraged bear, throwing his torch to the stone floor, his hand grabbing her neck, her head and body slamming against the wall making everything around her seem blurry for a moment.

"Do you think I'm asking you for your opinion? You will serve me, and you will serve me well, or I will burn not you, but all of the fucking Vale. Only dust and ashes will be left of the people you knew. Is that what you want, my Lady?" He scoffed, arching his full lips and eyebrows in a way as if he sympathised with her, however his gaze was blank, cold, mad, his breath heavy on her face, his chest rising and falling in rage.

She shook her head quickly, feeling his fingers dig into the skin of her neck even harder, making her unable to take a deeper breath despite the fact that she needed the air so badly.

Her head was spinning, his voice seeming to come to her from far away.

"So we have an agreement, as I understand it?" He whispered, leaning over her so that the tips of their noses were almost touching, towering over her to make her feel who had the power, who had the strength, who had the last word.

She merely nodded, breathing loudly through her wide-open mouth, a cold feeling of humiliation surging through her stomach.

"Mmm." He hummed and let her go. She fell to the ground, drawing in air loudly, clutching at her neck, feeling her heart begin to beat anew.

"You will be moved to one of the chambers. You will not lack anything. Serve me well and no more harm will befall you." He said calmly with a kind of threat from which a shiver ran down her spine.

Serve me well.

Whatever that was supposed to mean.

Indeed, true to his word, the guards came for her and she walked out of the smelly, dark cell where rats ran around to the upper floor of the Red Keep. The light blinded her and for a moment she could not see where she was going, but then, despite all her reluctance and trepidation, she marvelled for a moment at the rich, beautiful architecture of this castle.

If only she could have come here under different circumstances, at her father's side when she was a little child.

But her father was not here.

Instead, there was her cousin, exactly as self-obsessed as he was.

She thought with pain that they were just alike.

In the small chamber that had been assigned to her, the Queen Mother was waiting for her, accompanied by a knight with rather tanned skin: she thought he came from Dorne.

"My Lady. I ask you to forgive us for what inconvenience you have suffered. I place my old gowns and two of my servants at your disposal." She said, looking her straight in the face with her big, warm brown eyes, plucking at the cuticles around her fingernails in some involuntary, nervous reflex.

She lowered her gaze, silently acknowledging that she had nothing to say to any of them.

"This is the Queen speaking to you. Show respect." Said the knight, Queen Alicent however rebuked him immediately.

"I do not recall allowing you to speak, Ser Criston."

The man looked away and fell silent. The Queen sighed, closed her eyes and swallowed hard, as if she felt shame looking at her.

"Rest." She said simply and left, immediately followed by Ser Criston with a clatter of his silver, shining armour.

She was left alone.

She felt that she needed a bath, tired, sweaty, soaked in the smell of the disgusting cellar they were holding her in – she called one of the servants to bring a tub to her chamber and fill it with warm water.

She wondered, watching these young girls doing their chores, whether she might try to escape, seeing that they had left the door open, but decided that it was pointless.

Even if she did escape, they would find her and bring her here again, and Prince Aemond would burn the Vale.

She lowered her gaze, recognising that she had neither the strength nor the will to stand up.

She was empty inside, she thought, and he could fill her with whatever he wanted.

With his ideas, his desires, his demands.

As she sank into the pleasantly warm water scented with oils of field flowers, she felt better. Her muscles relaxed and she leaned her head back, closing her eyes, deciding to calmly analyse the situation she was in.

Since they were so desperate to abduct her, it meant that her father and Princess Rhaenyra had the upper hand over them.

She was also sure that her cousin, Lord Royce, had already sent a raven to Dragonstone with the word that she had been imprisoned, and since the informations was spreading through the Kingdom like the wind, she was sure that Daemon would be furious.

Would he try to contact her?

She sighed, recognising that she didn't want that.

Because of how much she despised him, even though she was a Targaryen, she used her mother's name.

Royce.

She wanted nothing to do with any of them, but it seemed to her that Prince Aemond was truly mad and that in his rage he really could set off on his mighty dragon to burn and destroy if she betrayed him.

She didn't want to test how mad the Targaryens could really be.

After all, they were bedding their own siblings.

She sighed when one of the servants came in, saying that she had been summoned by the King, who wanted to see her in person. She had chosen a gown most similar to the ones she had worn in Runestone, but as soon as one of the girls wanted to touch her hair she pulled away, feeling an unpleasant shudder.

"No. I'll do it myself." She said, taking a comb in her hand, brushing out strand after strand.

A woman could only wear her hair loose in the privacy of her chamber, for it was a sign of her freedom but also of chaos, where in the world of men there always had to be order.

She decided she didn't care about that.

She was horrified by how many people were sitting in the chamber she had been led to – at the table, she understood, sat the Lords, Queen Widow, the King, and Prince Aemond, looking at her with a malicious grin.

He was proud of himself, she thought and let out a quiet breath, looking away, thinking they were all pathetic.

The King smiled broadly at the sight of her and nodded, as if someone had indeed given him a wonderful surprise.

"Come closer, cousin." He said lightly, so she took a reluctant few steps forward, wondering what she would hear this time.

"We are overjoyed by your presence, even though you were brought here under not very pleasant circumstances. I hope you will quickly forget about these … discomforts and support us in our cause. My brother is extremely eager to prepare you for this." He said as if what they had done to her was no great thing, a mere joke at which she should laugh along with him and willingly go to her death in dragon fire if it turned out that their plan would fail.

That's why she remained silent, recognising that the man sitting in front of her was an imbecile.

"Are you not glad to face your father? Did he not forget you and abandon you for so many years?" He continued, seeing the expression on her face, and she looked at him, feeling absolutely nothing.

"I have nothing to say to you, cousin. Do with me what you wish."

The men around her twisted uneasily in their seats, glancing at the King, clearly afraid of his reaction to her insolent words. King Aegon, however, leaned forward, looking at her intrigued.

"Our family has forgotten you. Left you the fuck knows where, motherless and fatherless. And I am deeply sorry for it."

She swallowed hard, letting the air out loud, feeling the pain in her chest at his words – this reaction of her own surprised her. Looking into his eyes, she thought in disbelief that while he was certainly a fool, the words he had spoken to her a moment ago were sincere.

The last thing she expected from him was sympathy, and it surprised her how much it hurt her.

"You may leave." He said, and she nodded and left, thinking with relief that just a moment longer and the King would have seen something in her gaze that she didn't want.

What she desired.

As long as they didn't know it, none of their threats could do anything to her.

The guards escorted her to her chamber and as they closed the door behind her, she simply threw herself on her bed, wondering if it had all just been a bad dream.

What if she died in the dragon fire?

Did she want to end her life without really experiencing anything?

She never wanted to be a wife or a mother, but she hoped to see something more, to find her own purpose, her own way, away from the dragon war.

Meanwhile, she found herself at the centre of it.

She knew that Prince Aemond would summon her – she could see it in his displeased expression after his brother's words. He did not like the fact that he was trying to besmirch and get close to her, his little toy – he had made it clear in his words that she was not to serve Aegon or the Kingdom, but him.

He had brought her here for himself, to spite her father, and she was to be what he desired.

What he had imagined in his head.

Very well, she thought.

When she walked into his chamber, he was sitting with his back to her; his room was much more spacious than hers, maps and books spread out on the table he was leaning over.

He was planning a war without his brother.

"Come here. Sit down." He said coldly, casting her one weary glance over his shoulder, going back to whatever it was he was preoccupied with before he summoned her.

She walked over to the table and sat down in the chair beside him with a quiet rustling of her gown – he hummed as he slid an open book towards her apparently on a page he cared for her to focus on.

"Can you read?" He asked, and she looked up at him, wondering if he had heard himself.

His gaze changed, suddenly frustrated and impatient so she just looked at the book and started reading, hearing what he was saying in between.

"The dragons understand the language of Old Valyria, and this is how the dragon riders communicate with them. You have to learn to speak the commands properly." He sighed, spreading out comfortably in his seat with his legs crossed, tilting his head back.

"Dohaerās means serve. Rȳbās means listen. These are the most important words, right next to Lykirī, which commands a dragon to remain calm. Repeat."

She felt a powerful, cold shiver run down her back, the memory of that evening, of her, sitting on his lap and his voice.

"Rȳbās." Said her father in her imagination. "Repeat."

She stared dully ahead feeling that she couldn't open her mouth, her throat squeezed tight, her breathing accelerated, heavy with the terror that possessed her, her heart pounding like mad in her chest.

He left because she couldn't say it properly, but after all, he hadn't even explained to her what she had done wrong. He didn't give her a chance to improve, disappointed that she wasn't what he wanted her to be.

Over the years, she kept asking herself the same question.

Did she really not deserve a second chance?

And then she saw darkness before her eyes, and her head hit something hard.

She dreamt that her father was holding her hand. She wasn't sure if it was a memory or her imagination, but she could smell his scent and was sure she heard his voice, though she was unable to open her eyes, her body burning with fever.

"Will she survive?"

"Only the gods know." The Maester replied.

Her father was silent for a moment, his fingers tightening on hers.

"Perhaps it will be better this way."

When she finally woke, the light blinded her. She squinted, closing her eyes, feeling that someone was indeed holding her hand – when she opened her eyelids again she saw Queen Alicent sitting beside her on her bed.

The gesture, the touch of her warm hand on hers was at once pleasurable, motherly, and at the same time uncomfortable – she was not her child, but a stranger, and to her it was an act filled with her guilt, her attempt to alleviate what they wanted to condemn her to.

"How do you feel, sweet girl?" She hummed, though she didn't understand what purpose this question was intended to serve.

Did she think that she would cry now in her arms like a fool, saying that she missed her mother and was afraid?

Even if that were true, she had no intention of confiding in the mother of two self-obsessed men, one worse than the other.

Did she blame herself sometimes for the way they were?

Queen Alicent let go of her hand and lowered her gaze, as if embarrassed by her silence, understanding what she must have been thinking about.

"My son, Aemond. He was such a sweet boy." She said in pain, shaking her head, biting her lower lip.

"After his nephew took his eye he sank into a sense of injustice. He says that Luke's death was an accident, but I don't know if I believe him. I don't recognise him anymore and I warn you that he's unpredictable." She whispered and looked at her, clearly thinking that her words would make any impression on her.

She, however, felt nothing.

"I know."

Prince Aemond circled around her bed like a predator, watching her vigilantly, pacing with his hands folded behind his back, listening to what the Maester was saying.

"The momentary weakness has passed, but she should not strain herself." He said, and the prince hummed under his breath, stopping at the height of her head, looking at him with satisfaction.

"She won't. Leave us alone."

She turned her head away from him, not feeling like listening to what he had to say to her.

"Daemon tried to teach you. Didn't he?" He asked haughtily, apparently convinced that he was right.

She just swallowed hard, feeling a squeeze in her throat at the thought that he wasn't wrong.

"I wouldn't call it teaching." She replied dispassionately, feeling that she was sinking deeper and deeper into the bedding, wanting to melt into one with it.

She shuddered as he leaned over her suddenly, his hands on both sides of her head resting on the pillow, strands of his long hair brushing her face.

"Is there really no desire for revenge in you? To prove him wrong by rejecting you? Don't you want him to curse the day he left you?" He asked, looking her straight in the eye.

He's changed tactics, she thought, wanting to get to her hidden frustrations, pain and disappointment now.

She smiled at his words, his lips twisted in a grimace of displeasure at the sight.

He was enraged.

"I don't care about him. However, I can see that for you the person of my father is very important. You are alike, you and him." She whispered, and he swallowed hard, something in his gaze extinguished, making his iris dark.

"Daemon is a challenge I welcome. I will face him if the need arises. I will not allow the bastard children of my sister-whore to sit on the Iron Throne." He said slowly, choosing each word carefully, as if he knew he needed not only her, but also her loyalty.

And for what reason would she remain by his side if the opportunity came for her to betray him?

"Do you want your brother to remain King?" She asked quietly, and his expression changed – his forehead cleared, his jaw relaxed into an expression that was strangely calm.

Silence.

They looked straight into each other's eyes, and with every second in which his mouth did not leave the confirmation her heart pounded harder and harder in her chest, her lips parted in a sigh of disbelief.

His lips parted too, his gaze grew misty, as if he felt arousal at the thought of what he saw in his head.

Himself on the Iron Throne.

"Serve me well and I will reward you. When the time comes." He whispered and, to her amazement, she felt an unfamiliar sensation between her thighs, a warmth and a pulsing, as if someone had tickled her there.

He rose with a smirk and moved towards the door, telling her that they would begin her training the next morning.

He had her riding attire prepared for her and arranged for her to meet him in the courtyard of the Red Keep. In order to be on time, she had to rise before dawn – by the time she left the gates of the fortress in the company of the guards, the sun was just rising lazily over the horizon.

Prince Aemond gave her one sharp glance before mounting his beautiful brown steed, nodding his head for her to do the same. She therefore climbed with lightness and ease onto the black mare standing just beside him and set off at a gallop after him.

She thought with amusement, feeling the wind in her hair, the front strands of which she had braided back, as he did, that she could easily try to escape with such a well-rested horse at her side, knowing her riding skills.

For the first time, however, she wondered why she should return there?

What kind of life awaited her in Runestone?

Certainly not death in flames, she thought with a smile, but for some reason she didn't fear that.

She would simply become dust and fly with the wind high into the sky.

The prince stopped suddenly, indicating to her with a raised hand to do the same, and jumped down from the saddle. She followed in his footsteps, sinking onto the soft dew-damp grass, trying to catch her breath after the physical exertion, looking around.

She wondered what they were doing among the glades and woods, until she felt the ground around them shake and something she thought was a hill began to slowly rise, a large eye similar to that of a lizard opened.

A dragon.

A dragon as big as a mountain.

"Lykirī, Vhagar." Said her rider, stepping closer to her, extending his hand to her.

Vhagar leaned towards him, apparently trying to understand what was happening, allowing him to touch her jaw – his hand seemed to her to be just the head of a needle compared to her huge body, her muzzle opened in an expression as if she was pleased to see him.

Her heart was pounding like mad, her mouth open wide in a quickened, excited breath.

"Come closer. Slowly, step by step." He called out to her, and she looked at him as if he had completely lost his mind.

Gods, she was so big.

She probably wouldn't even feel it in her throat if she swallowed her.

She felt her legs grow soft, her body quivering all over as she took an uncertain first step forward and then a second, Vhagar's gaze shifted lazily to her, her nostrils releasing the air loudly, enveloping her in warm steam.

She stopped, terrified, as the dragoness suddenly opened her maw, something red appeared in the distance of her throat, as if someone had lit a fire there.

"DAOR, VHAGAR! DAOR!" Exclaimed her rider, and in some act of despair and fear she shouted to her as if she were chastising a little child.

"Rȳbās!"

Vhagar froze motionless, as if confused, staring at her small silhouette standing before her.

"Rȳbās, Vhagar. Daor."

Vhagar closed her maw, a loud sigh escaping from her nostrils, which hit her and made her fall over, dropping to her knees.

She looked at him from a distance and saw that he was pale, his mouth open in a heavy, shuddering breath.

She didn't know why she started to laugh – why she grabbed her stomach, bent over and died of amusement and bitterness, thinking that her father had made a mistake, that he had wasted years of her life, had rejected her believing that she would never be able to do this.

She was panting, feeling her laughter turn to sobs, heavy tears of shame one by one began to run down her cheek onto the grass beneath her hands, her mouth wide open trying to catch air.

She did it, and he wasn't here.

She still remained a nobody, just as she had been before.

Playing with dragons didn't change anything.

She gasped as he grabbed her by the hair and lifted her head up with an aggressive motion of his hand, kneeling beside her, pointing at his dragoness lying right in front of them.

"Do you know what it is? Do you know how much I sacrificed to achieve it? This dragoness has seen Old Valyria, fought in wars when your great-grandparents were not yet in the world. You should fall to your knees before her, you fucking whore, not laugh." He hissed and pushed her forward so that she bent over, as if praying before a statue of a god.

She clasped her hands in the wet grass, panting all over, whooping with her tears, wondering how long she was supposed to last in this position, his fingers clenched in her hair, not allowing her to move away even a little.

"That's it. Show some fucking respect." He sneered, and she clenched her eyes shut, drifting her thoughts away to the pleasant scent of the forest around her, the singing of the birds, the sound of the wind.

She swallowed hard as his embrace eased, her heart thumping harder in her chest as his fingers ran through her smooth curls, sinking finally into the soft skin of the back of her neck.

Her lips parted in disbelief, wondering what he was actually doing, the familiar pulsing between her thighs told her that she was both terrified and aroused by this new, unfamiliar sensation.

She felt her lips swell and her nipples harden as his thumb stroked her skin, her thighs clenched involuntarily with her silent sigh.

He heard it and gasped, tightening his fingers in her hair again, leaning over her ear.

"This position suits you." He whispered and let her go with a firm tug, moving towards his dragoness, placing his hand on her jaw.

"Stand up and repeat everything again."

[brokenmenswhore]

Hiii first of all thank you for your fics, they're all so good you're incredible 🥹 second I just wanted to ask you if you were planning on going on with lessons, it was SO amazing! No rush just to know whether to expect it ahah if not so I would love to read some other Aegon xfem!reader smut you're too good at that 💚

thank youuuuu 🖤 i wasn’t planning on it personally but i live to serve and if there’s a demand for it i’m open to anything! here’s something kinda similar regardless since i’m such a whore for this man :)

new | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: aegon targaryen x fem!reader

summary: aegon asks the madam of his usual brothel if she has anyone “new”

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), choking, corruption kink, language

a/n: this gif is making me feral why the fuck is he so fucking hot UGH

────── ☾ ──────

“Is everything to your liking, Your Grace?” asked the Madam, noticing the slight tinge of frustration on Aegon’s face. He walked past her and into his usual room, slumping down on one of the chairs. The Madam followed, concerned at the consequences to her establishment if The King was not satisfied.

“Is there any way I may be of assistance?” she continued, hoping he would alert her as to the issue he was having.

Aegon sighed. “Do you have anyone new?”

The question caught the Madam off guard. The King liked his specific few girls. He preferred the ones with the proper look and experience level that he required for satisfaction. When he was younger, he would fuck anything that moved, but since wearing the crown, he understood he needed to keep his urges at bay, and only let them loose with a select few. He had never asked for anything new.

“We do have one new girl, but you would not approve of her, Your Grace, she is quite inexperienced and will suit men who desire innocence much better than she will suit you.” The Madam was afraid that you would not be able to perform properly, and she did not want The King of the Seven Kingdoms to hold any resentment toward her.

“Does she look like my usuals?” Aegon asked, completely disregarding the Madam’s comments.

“She does, Your Grace, but I would advise-“

“You are not in good standing to advise your King of anything,” he cut the Madam off, glaring daggers her direction, “you would be wise not to question me.”

“Of course, my apologies, Your Grace,” the Madam panicked, “she does look like your usuals, but she is freshly new. She has not been had here yet anymore than maybe five nights. She does not know much.”

Aegon gave the Madam a wicked smile. “You may inform her that her King awaits.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” she responded, exiting the room and leaving the King alone in wait.

She found you in a back room, alone, attempting to adjust your body to fit properly in the small amount of clothing you were given.

“I have been requested to fetch you,” the Madam said, her voice startling you. You turned to her, finally happy with the way your breasts were sitting, as you responded, “How could anyone know to ask for me?”

“The King has requested someone new.”

Your eyes widened at the statement. “The King?” The Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms was the very last person you anticipated on serving. You had only had sex a handful of times, this being your first few nights working, and each time was with a man who specifically asked for someone inexperienced. You knew that the king liked his whores experienced and ready to serve, and oftentimes the Madam only sent him girls who worked their way up to serving someone of such high esteem. He was a finale, not a beginning.

Aegon II Targaryen was also known to be hot headed and rough with his whores, allowing his deepest carnal desires to overtake him. A few of the other girls greeted you on your first days, speaking to you of their tips, tricks, and experiences, and had spoken of the King, and his brother, Prince Aemond. The few girls who were tasked with serving King Aegon accredited him to sore throats or the inability to walk for hours, his depravity present in the bedroom. They quite enjoyed him that way.

“He has specifically requested you,” the Madam told you, “I attempted to advise him otherwise, but he insisted. I am in no position to undermine the King’s requests.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded your head. “Do I look up to your standards, Madam?” you asked.

She approached you, fixing a few stray hairs before pressing her palm to your cheek. “You are stunning. You will be fine. I hired you for a reason. Do not be nervous, darling.“ The Madam gave you a sweet smile before turning out of the room, allowing you to follow her to your meet with the King.

“Your Grace,” she called before swinging the curtain open, making sure he knew she was entering before doing so, “This is her.”

You followed the Madam into the room, shifting until you were standing in front of The King, who remained seated in the corner.

“Thank you,” he spoke, “you may leave us.”

The Madam hesitated, but did not dare question his authority. She bowed toward him and exited the room, leaving you alone and nearly naked, standing before the highest ranking man in Westeros.

You nervously fidgeted with your fingers behind your back as the King lifted a cup from the small table next to his chair, taking a sip and looking at you, not yet placing the cup back down.

He shifted in his seat, spreading his legs open and slumping in the chair a bit more. “Well?”

“Your Grace?” You were confused at what he was trying to get you to do.

“Don’t just stand there,” he told you.

“Your Grace, what would you like me to do?” you asked, afraid of making the wrong move and making him angry.

Aegon sighed. He took another sip from his cup before placing it down and standing up, untying his breeches and pushing them down his legs, freeing his already semi-hard cock. He sat back down and lifted his cup again. His eyes never left you as he brought the cup to his lips, continuing to tilt it further and further upwards until the red liquid spilled past his lips, a steady stream rushing down his throat, down his chest, and onto his stomach. “Oops,” he said, finally placing the empty cup down, “someone will need to clean that up.”

Though he made sure the spill was noticeably deliberate, you did not catch on. “I can happily retrieve you a towel, Your Grace.”

“You will do no such thing,” he spoke, “your tongue is as good as anything.”

You stared at him blankly, nervous to approach him. You knew you should, but your feet were unable to move.

“Come here and lick it up,” he demanded, “now.”

You forced yourself to move, kneeling in between his legs and adjusting yourself to your mouth was directly in front of his neck. “May I?” you asked.

“Lick. It. Up,” he repeated as an answer.

You slowly leaned in until the tip of your tongue connected to the stream of wine on his throat, flattening it against his adam’s apple as you licked up the spilled drink. Your tongue traced from his chest to the base of his neck, then from his belly button to his chest. Even when the wine was mostly cleaned, you licked a long stripe from his stomach all the way up to his throat, tracing the wine up the underside of his chin until you swiped your tongue over his bottom lip.

“May I kiss you, Your Grace?” you asked, desperate to feel his lips but scared of overstepping.

Instead of a verbal answer, Aegon grabbed a fistful of your hair in his hand, tugging your head back. He brought his lips to yours, kissing you with a desperate hunger and tasting the wine on your lips, before ripping your head away from his. “You missed a spot.”

You pulled your body away from him, looking down his body to where he pointed, just at the base of his cock.

You shifted your body so your head was level with his cock, kissing down his lower stomach until you were just above his now hardened cock. You looked up at him for consent, and he nodded slightly, his breathing starting to quicken in anticipation.

You were in your head before you could allow yourself to be as bold as you knew The King expected. “Your Grace, you must know that I have never done this before.”

Aegon tilted his head to the side. “Do not tell me you still have your maidenhood?”

“I do not,” you replied, “I mean I have never tasted a man in this way. I am unsure how I will perform.”

Aegon’s cock twitched at your confession. “I can be lenient with you.”

“I would very much appreciate it, Your Grace. I want you to enjoy yourself, though, and I can fetch a girl who may be better suited to your desires, if you’d like.”

Aegon sighed. “I do not want another girl.”

“Of course, Your Grace, I shall do my best, I just fear you may benefit from someone with more experience-“

“Shut up,” he cut you off, “I said I do not want another girl. Now get on with it.”

You took a deep breath, looking up at him before running your tongue from the underside of his cock to the tip, kissing the very top before sinking your mouth down onto his length. Aegon settled back in his chair, his muscles relaxing at the feeling of your lips wrapped around him.

You began to bob your head up and down slowly, adjusting to the feeling. You had seen this done before, but only in passing, walking past rooms full of cocks and mouths for the past few nights. You did not know much, but you attempted to showcase what you had seen, and how you assumed it was done.

You flattened your tongue against the underside of Aegon’s cock, a sigh leaving his lips as you continued to move up and down.

Aegon’s hand reached for your arm, pulling it upwards until his hand was in yours. He guided your hand to his balls, and you instinctively cupped them, squeezing gently and glancing up at his face to see his reaction. He was already looking down at you, his chest rapidly rising and falling as you continued to play with him, mouth still moving on his cock.

Both of his hands moved to hold your head onto him as he began to thrust into your mouth, lifting his hips ever so slightly at a painstakingly slow pace. Your lack of experience was driving him insane, his cock desperate for more. He grabbed your hair in his hand, and started to push and pull your head, forcing you to pick up the pace in which you sucked him. He began to thrust faster and faster into your mouth, chasing his high with every movement of his hips, before pulling your head off of his cock entirely.

You looked at him, confused as to why he stopped you. Were you not good enough? Did he want another girl?

“What fun would it be if I came now?” Aegon said, pulling you out of your own head, “I’m nowhere near done with you.”

“What else would you like from me, Your Grace?” you asked.

Your innocent tone was driving him crazy, his desire to corrupt and wreck you growing with each sound you made.

“Has anyone ever tasted you?” he asked.

“I know not what you ask, My King,” you answered.

“Do you know what it means to be tasted, pretty girl?” He asked, pulling you until you were standing in front of him as he leaned forward in his chair. He put his hands on your hips and placed a quick kiss to your stomach.

“No, Your Grace,” you spoke, barely making any noise, cheeks flustered as he held onto you, kissing along your lower stomach. His teeth pulled at your small clothes, looking up at you as they slid down your thighs and pooling at your ankles.

You were embarrassed, standing with your core exposed to The King of the Seven Kingdoms, his mouth mere inches away from it. He began to kiss lower and lower until he kissed on top of your folds, causing you to let out a small sigh.

“You need to promise me you won’t try to remain quiet,” he spoke, “I wish to hear you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The King parted your folds with his tongue, flicking at your pearl, causing your legs to buckle involuntarily. Aegon’s hands moved to your ass, grabbing the flesh there to steady you, pushing you against his face. He licked and sucked at anything he could, excited to be the first to taste you, eager to hear the noises you made when pleasured.

The pleasure was unlike anything you had experienced from the few men you had been with. You let out a whine as your hands found their way to Aegon’s head, lightly pulling his hair as you threw your head back, grateful for the grip holding you in place.

Aegon ran one hand down to your thigh, lifting your leg until it was over his shoulder, giving him easier access to you. You continued to hold his head, steadying yourself to avoid completely falling over. Aegon moaned into your core at the feeling of your hands in his hair.

You were worried he was making a noise of disapproval, and you quickly removed your hands from his head. “My apologies, Your Grace, I should not touch you without your request,” you sighed, fighting with all your might to speak a coherent sentence as his tongue continued to swirl around your bud.

He briefly removed his mouth from your core to say, “don’t you fucking dare stop.”

His Grace immediately dipped his head back between your thighs, a loud moan leaving your lips at the sudden feeling, your hands returning to his hair at his request.

“Your Grace,” you moaned, your inner core beginning to tighten at the constant feeling of his mouth on you.

Aegon came up for air. “Just Aegon,” he said.

“Your Grace, I should not c-call you by your name,” you choked out, “i-it is not a-appropriate.”

Aegon sighed in frustration. He just wanted to make you come, and you kept overthinking the situation and interrupting his actions. “It is appropriate if I say it is appropriate. If I tell you to call me Aegon, you call me Aegon.”

You did not combat him, you simply allowed him to continue tasting you as your high approached. His tongue moved faster and faster, your whimpers turning into gasps and moans.

“Aegon!” you cried as your high washed over you, his tongue slowing as he pressed one final kiss to your lower stomach, his hands dropping from your ass, causing your legs to shake and buckle.

You started to fall, but he caught your waist, standing up and taking you with him. You jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist, his arms holding you up as he walked you two over to the bed.

He slammed your back against the sheets, hovering over you as you attempted to catch your breath.

He kissed you, the tenderness of the moment taking you by surprise. The moment remained intimate and sweet until his hand found its way to your throat, rings cold against your skin as he gave a slight squeeze.

You gasped at the feeling, which only made Aegon squeeze a little harder. His hand remained still as his lips found your breasts.

“Take this off,” he said of the final piece of clothing left on your body. You untied the strings centered on your chest, loosening the garment until it was untied completely, exposing you entirely to The King. He ripped the clothing out from under you and discarded it on the floor, eyes focused on your breasts.

He was staring at you for so long that you became worried he was disappointed.

“Is there something wrong, Your Grace?” you asked, attempting to recenter his attention.

Aegon’s eyes finally moved from your breasts, meeting your eyes. “Nothing is wrong,” was all he said before averting his gaze back to your chest again.

“Would you prefer me to remain covered?” You felt heavy under his gaze, as if he was inspecting you, finding every little fault. You began to pull the sheets up to drape over yourself, but Aegon gripped your wrist, causing you to drop the sheets.

“Do not even attempt to cover yourself again, understood? I’ve already gone much too long without a sight this pretty.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” you replied.

Aegon took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking harshly, as if he thought the more he sucked, the higher the likelihood that something would leak out. His tongue swirled around your nipple, his hand finally leaving your throat to squeeze the unattended breast.

The curtain to the room swung open, the Madam standing at the entrance. Aegon, with no urgency whatsoever, detached himself from your breast, glaring at the woman.

“Forgive me, My King, I simply wanted to make sure she remains to your liking?” the Madam checked in, nervous of your performance and ability to satisfy her most coveted patron.

“Have I ever deemed it proper to interrupt me?” Aegon spat, angry at the intrusion, “answer me.”

“You have not, Your Grace, I was simply-“

“You were simply interrupting,” Aegon started, shifting his body so that you were trapped between his legs, “and I did not give you authority to ever do such a thing. Get out.”

“My apologies, Your Grace, it will not h-“

“Get. Out.”

The Madam bowed and left without another word, Aegon letting out a frustrated sigh as the curtains fell back into one another, leaving you alone with him once again.

“Does she make a habit of checking in on you?” Aegon asked you.

“She never has, but I am newer, and I believe she means well.”

“Does she not think you capable of pleasing a man?”

“To speak candidly, she does not think me capable of pleasing you, Your Grace,” you told him honestly.

“You seem to be doing a fine job,” Aegon said, dipping his head to kiss your neck, a hand finding its way back to your breasts, a finger playing with your nipple between squeezes.

“T-thank you, Aegon,” you replied.

Aegon groaned at your words. Even though you were thanking him for his compliment, it sounded so pretty, as if you were thanking him for his touch. He needed more, and you noticed.

He lined his cock up at your entrance, watching your face as he slowly pushed into you, your mouth dropping open and your head tilting back at his size. You gasped when he bottomed out inside of you, his cock large enough to hit further back than you anticipated.

He studied your face, watching your brow crease as he pulled only a little out of you before slamming it back in, causing your body to jolt slightly with the movement. He began to slowly rock into you, a small whine leaving your lips with each thrust.

You remembered his earlier groan, and praised him. “Thank you,” you sighed out as he slowly fucked into you, the feeling igniting your entire body.

“Thank you for what?” Aegon asked, eager to hear you speak more.

He picked up the pace, fucking into you faster and faster, your body rocking with each thrust of his hips. “T-thank you, Aegon, you feel s-so g-good,” you whined.

“Yeah? You like the way your king fucks you, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you praised, “thank you, A-Aegon.”

Your words were making him feral, rendering him completely unable to control himself. He began to fuck you at a ruthless pace, one hand finding its way to your breasts, squeezing and flicking your nipple to add to your pleasure.

Your back arched in response, whines and whimpers falling from your lips with no chance of stopping.

“I want you to scream so loud that there is no question of whether or not I am pleased by you,” Aegon moaned.

“Y-yes, Aegon,” you whimpered, the feeling of his hips hitting yours with every hard thrust driving you closer and closer to the edge again.

He folded his body a bit, leaning down to kiss your breasts again, sucking as he continued to fuck you. Your hands found his head, playing with his hair as he bit down on your breast.

You squeaked a moan, the sudden pain catching you off guard. It only made Aegon like you more, each and every new noise pulling him further and further in. He couldn’t get enough. You were intoxicating him; he loved knowing that barely anyone had had you, and that no one would ever compare to him when more did. He was growing too used to his usual whores, and you excited something within him as you pulled his hair, and feeling being exactly what he wanted from you.

He bit at the pure flesh of your breast, licking and sucking at the spot immediately after to care for the slight mark. “Aegon, fuck,” you moaned.

His pace began to feel sloppy, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic as he chased his high.

“I need you to come,” he said.

“I- I-“ your high was approaching and Aegon knew it. He could feel you squeezing his cock, and he was losing self control, all too close to releasing inside of you. He needed you to come again before he could allow himself to, but he was losing it.

“Come for me,” he begged, “do what your king says.”

The demanding nature of the request combined with the neediness of his begging only added to your arousal, your high hitting you hard as you squeezed Aegon’s cock for dear life. “Aegon!” you screamed, sure everyone could hear.

“Good girl,” Aegon cooed at your volume.

The combination of the feeling of you coming and the sight of your breasts bouncing with each thrust drove Aegon close to his own high, grateful that you came so he could follow suit.

He tried to stop it, he tried to convince himself it wasn’t right, but he could not help himself- he remained inside of you as he came, a moan leaving his lips as his last few thrusts shot his seed deep within you, the thought of how pretty your breasts would be if they were full of milk completely clouding his mind in the moment.

He pulled out of you as he calmed down, falling down onto your body and positioning his head on your chest.

He remained laying on you for several minutes, enjoying the feeling of your breasts beneath his head, the makeshift pillows soothing him.

“Your Grace, is there anything else you require of me? Is there anything else I can do that will please you?” you asked after a while, unsure of how long he wanted to remain in your presence.

“Stay,” he said, “resting on you pleases me.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” you responded, running your fingers through his hair, allowing him to take a deep breath as he moved a hand to your breast, squeezing and playing with the flesh as he calmed down.

You remained still, allowing him this comfort as you settled in to the bed.

“You may tell your Madam that you satisfied me greatly,” he spoke after a few minutes, pushing himself up and standing as he found his clothing.

“Yes, Your Grace,” you responded.

Aegon redressed himself, stopping in front of you before exiting the room. “And you can tell her I expect to see you again.”

[izels-writing]

r. lupin — i’m gonna be your wife

Pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

Summary: despite what happens, you’re going to marry remus.

Warnings: FLUFFFF, honestly no warnings it’s just cute, written in two hours so if it’s rushed or bad don’t judge me yall 😔

you weren't sure of a lot of things. if anything, your indecisiveness was an integral part of your personality. anyone who knew you, even if it was acquaintances, knew that making decisions or being sure of something was hard for you.

but there was one thing you were sure of.

you were going to marry remus lupin.

no matter what life threw your way, no matter how many hardships or bad people that entered your lives—you knew that he'd end up being your husband.

you understood each other in ways no one else would. you were there for each other. you gave each other support when the other needed it. it was a beautiful, once in a lifetime thing you’d never find again.

you had told lily this once, but she gave you an unsure look—likely thinking you were crazy. it wasn't like you'd do something to ensure that you and him ended up together, you just knew it would happen. your interference wasn't needed.

now, the one person you'd never bring it up to is remus. he was unsure of dating you as it was, due to his furry little problem. you didn't want to mention the idea of possibly spending the rest of your lives together, because you knew how squirrelly he could be about love.

you had days where you doubted your assurance of knowing you'd marry him—you knew that was normal for anyone. but it always came to the same conclusion.

it'd happen anyway.

——

madam pomfrey let you inside as you stepped forward carefully with remus' tea and biscuits. being a student assistant for your school nurse certainly had its perks—getting to ensure your boyfriend actually ate was one of them.

you ambled over carefully to his bedside, placing the tray down as you sat on the chair next to him. he smiled weakly at you.

“how’re you feeling?” you asked softly.

“same as always,” he chuckled. you knew the humor was just a front.

“well, want some tea and biscuits?” you smiled.

he smiled. “sure,” he replied as he sat up and adjusted himself into a sitting position.

you placed the tray on his lap and sat back down, smiling as he ate slowly. he picked up his tea and went to take a sip before looking at you for a second.

“two sugars, a dash of milk, just how you like it,” you sighed, playfully rolling your eyes. he nodded in satisfaction and took a sip, savoring the taste of his tea.

“have you done your DADA homework?” he asked. your eyes widened.

“that would be a no,” he chuckled. “do you want help with it?”

you sighed. “yes, please. i don’t understand why i need it to graduate,” you groaned.

remus just laughed at you as you stood to get your school bag from one of the empty cupboards, bringing it back over to him. you enjoyed when he helped you with your homework—he never made you feel stupid or lesser. he knew how smart you were, no matter how much convincing it took for you to think the same.

it was a sweet thing you two did together after full moons. you’d care for him, he’d help you with homework or whatever advice you needed. funnily enough, this was also what brought you two close together in the first place to the point of being together for two years now.

you sat beside him on the bed, facing him—showing him the work you’d done so far, allowing him to survey it before he begun his mini-tutoring session.

he loved that about you. the fact that you didn’t see him as weak or unable after full moons like his friends. he didn’t blame them, frankly he knew he didn’t look his best, but he hated feeling weaker than them. you played to his strengths.

“okay, well half of this is right and the other half is…not…” he chuckled. you groaned, throwing your forehead down to his chest.

“can you just do it for me?” you pleaded, looking at him pitifully.

��unfortunately, i can’t, love,” he grinned. “you have to know this stuff to be a healer,”

“bloody hell,” you groaned.

——

after two hours of what you presumed to be torture, though remus would disagree, you talked and played board games with the physically exhausted boy. you both enjoyed spending the day together, even if you confined to one room throughout the entirety of it.

you placed down your piece after drawing the card, glancing up to find remus smiling at you—almost admiringly. you chuckled, “what?”

“nothing…” he chuckled back.

“come on,” you laughed, swatting his arm. “what is it?”

“you just…i hope you know how much i appreciate you and how much easier you make the hard days,” remus mumbled shyly.

you smiled. “of course, that’s what girlfriends do,”

he grinned, wincing as he started pulling himself up to cup your face. “i love you, y/n,” he whispered.

“i love you too,” you smiled, closing the gap between you both.

——

“and so, dorcas and emmeline are currently fighting because of that…” you concluded. because if there was one thing you and remus loved to do together—it was gossip.

“because of a hair product?” he questioned in annoyance.

“i know! i suppose it’s the principal or whatever, i dunno,” you shrugged.

“that reminds me of that one time james and peter didn’t speak to each other for a week over a quill,” remus snickered. “merlin, you should’ve seen the look on their faces when they realized sirius had it,”

you laughed. “i can only imagine,”

a few pairs of footsteps rushed inside and you both furrowed your eyebrows humorously at each other, craning your necks to catch sight of whoever was walking in.

suddenly, three boys appeared at your boyfriends bedside.

“hello, mister and misses lupin,” james grinned, greeting you both.

“hello, james,” you chuckled, sliding off of remus’ bed so the three of them could talk to him. “you guys want tea?”

“no, they’re fine,” remus said, glaring at them to dare to say anything more. they didn’t.

“great, ‘cause i ran out of tea earlier anyway,” you chuckled. “i’ll be back,”

it wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy hanging out with remus and his friends, because frankly you really did. they were a fun group and they were kind to you. but you also didn’t want to be that overbearing girlfriend who constantly hung around—so you immediately went to finish up restocking madam pomfrey’s stuff.

after an hour or two, the sun had gone down and the boys had returned back to their dorm without remus. obviously due to the fact that he was there for 48 hour care. though he didn’t show it, the full moon took a lot out of him.

you quickly returned to his bedside, smiling at his droopy state.

“tired?” you asked.

“very,” he chuckled. “you?”

“oh yeah,” you replied sarcastically, “stocking really takes the energy out of me,”

remus laughed. “alright, i was just asking, you twat, no need to be so sarcastic about it,”

you chuckled and sat down on the chair beside his bed. “no, truthfully though, i am a bit tired. i’ll wait until you’re asleep to go lay down though,” you smiled, squeezing his hand comfortingly.

“why wait?” he smirked.

you raised an eyebrow. “what do you mean?”

he scooted slightly, turning slightly to the side, before patting the spot next to him. luckily for you, you had changed into pajama pants and a tank top earlier—once the clock struck 8:30.

you laughed, rolling your eyes playfully, before crawling into his bed. you curled up next to him, laying face to face with the boy.

“careful, i could fall asleep here,” you joked.

“go ahead,” he grinned, kissing your forehead.

bonus;

remus sighed, bringing a hand to his face as he looked over the bills and debts owed. he felt terrible, having to constantly budget and decide whether to have a full fridge or a new stove. economically, it hadn’t been easy for you two.

and you didn’t deserve this, he knew that deep down. you deserved those pretty necklaces you eyed in the store but never commented on.

you knocked on the room of your shared office space in your house, smiling at your husband kindly. “what’s the damage, mr. lupin?” you chuckled.

“the same as always,” he sighed. you frowned slightly at his worry lines and his stressed out look. you hated seeing him like this.

you ambled over to him, sitting on his lap. you kissed his lips softly, massaging his head gently. he closed his eyes slowly, leaning into your hands. you kissed his face softly—in efforts to comfort him.

you never cared that you struggled with money, as long as you had him, things didn’t seem so bad. he tried his hardest and that was all that mattered.

“how about me and you watch a movie and eat some popcorn? the kids just went to sleep, so i figured we could have some adult time,” you chuckled, kissing his jaw slightly.

he chuckled. “i’d enjoy that a lot,”

he looked up at you, starry-eyed and lovingly and for a second, all of your worries slipped away. you smiled sheepishly, “what?”

“thank you for making the hard days easier,” he said, kissing your neck softly.

“of course,” you grinned. “it’s what wives do,”

[justblades]

๋⚝ being messy! boothill, gallagher, sunday

MINORS DNI, gender neutral! reader, drabble formatting. oral sex, penetrative sex, light bondage, praising. in honor of boothill's banner tmrw <3

GALLAGHER

it was upon mutual understanding that this will only be a one time thing. yet, the way he crashes his lips onto yours with fervor, his bulky arms wrapping around your torso tightly to bring more proximity, to ease the warmth and lust brewing in your bodies - makes you yearn for more. gallagher relishes the aftertaste of aperitivo and absinthe twirling on your taste buds, reveling at the lingering flavor of the cocktail you downed in one go earlier.

gallagher's breathing is far from stable at this point in time, he cums inside you once more, letting his satisfaction paint your insides white. amidst reaching his orgasm for the third time this long night, he continues to pump in and out, letting out a hoarse groan as he feels his cock erect again. "it doesn't stop." he says, breaking the kiss for a moment to glance at his dick. he draws a heavy sigh, feeling himself become more sexually driven.

"well, no matter. gotta make the most out of this one time occurrence, yeah?" the brunette asks rhetorically, leaning in for another passionate kiss. furthermore, he skillfully slips his tongue inside your mouth, this time, familiarity binds the two of you - he could taste himself in you and vice versa, making a perfect concoction to relish in full bliss. wasting no time, he rams inside deeper this time, filling you up as your legs begin to go numb from the overwhelming sensation.

he shows no signs of halting at every service he's offering, a perfect open mouthed kiss as you're buried in the solace of being towered and wrapped by his large figure, and an endless stream of libido coursing through his veins. he proceeds to pick up the pace of his thrusts, earning him more absent-minded, lewd noises gush out of your saliva slicked lips.

his girthy cock becomes coated by his own white juices, several drops trickling out of your hole the more frequently he hits your sweet spot. "feels good. . ." you manage to utter in between his impactful thrusts while he manages to let out a deep chuckle, emerging victorious as the intercourse felt more like who'll endure longer. a bizarre idea suddenly lit up his mind, evident as soon as the magenta dyed tie adorning his collar come undone from his own gloved hands - he snakes it around your neck instead in a blink.

confused, he does a swift knot and wraps the end of the fabric around his wrist. casting a focused gaze, he pulls the tie towards him, making your body jolt awake from the abrupt movement. gallagher inches forward, his golden copper eyes anchor from the neck tie up to your face, watching your melting expressions as if he were etching every second in his memory. "the view just got even more beguiling—" he pauses, out of breath as he continues thrusting into your walls. "—stay for a little longer like this."

SUNDAY

the situation he's in just got a little more taxing. he looks at the stack of paperwork laid before him, fingers massaging his temples in a desperate attempt to process everything. golden eyes drift from one document to another, his vision starting to get lost among the sea of words tangling together, a stairway to mental fatigue.

as an assistant, you come rushing to his aid and offer him two beverages of his preference, accompanied by a sweet snack to lift his spirits up, at least, his physical system. "mr. sunday, perhaps you can take a break." you query and set the tray on his desk table, bowing slightly as a greeting, although suddenly.

"i need to clear my head." with one simple sentence, you understood from the get go what he really wanted. this has always been a little secret, a guilty pleasure the two of you had in agreement, you grant him access to your body at anytime he wants, while you submit to his requests willingly. embarrassment wallows you whole, but sunday feels himself slowly drift into relaxation, proceeding to let his dick spring free from the stress, letting everything unfold naturally.

as the head of the oak family is a perfectionist and employ rules to abide by - his taste in oral sex can sometimes become a dichotomy to the mentioned quirks of his personality. betwixt the belief of instilling strict order and the bliss of being free in anything, he gets off on the idea of you being messed up, looking disoriented as cum overlays your features, yet another preferred stress reliever of him.

as you take all of him in with your mouth wide agape, your wet cavern wraps itself around his shape. his mouth tightly shut, stifling the threatening hums of pleasure to slip out his hushed lips. however, your eyes remain locked passionately with his, an aspect he deems tantalizing - among your usual attentive look, whenever these instances happen, he indulges in the fact that your eyes now cast a lascivious one, an obvious longing displayed for the highly esteemed individual. "that pacing is good . . ." he states, long lower lashes bat slowly as you continue to suck him.

lewd noises continue to reverberate inside his private vicinity, the sounds then die down as an authoritative voice arises. "wrap your tongue around it." another knack sunday has in encounters like this is that he enjoys submission - having the power to be in control, to dominate. you stick your tongue out and twirl it around the head of his cock in gradual motions, ensuring he feels every second of the sensation. slowly but surely, he feels the build up of his release, evident from how his hips buck along your rhythm.

the feud ends as soon as he cums, letting the white strings sprawl all over your features down to the clothing you don, marking darker patches from the sticky liquids. huffing for a brief moment to catch his breath, he then carefully shuffles his pocket and fetches a handkerchief, folding it into a tidy square as he wipes your cum stained face with the soft fabric. he displays a reassuring smile this time, one different from previously - the present feeling more sincere and intimate. "well done."

BOOTHILL

boothill believes in the art of giving - he has your legs rested on his broad shoulders as he stimulates your sensitive parts. a smug smirk carved on his lips, augmented teeth peeking with a boastful look painted on his features. "like it when i do that?" he queries, slate gray eyes focusing on your body language.

too overwhelmed to be capable of verbalizing any word you intend to deliver, he doesn't wait for an answer as he digs himself in you again, sucking the flesh to where you'd mewl the most in. sharp, static, what felt like needles struck your lower limbs, a familiar numbness gush through your body. "wait— not there!"

tears well up in your eyes, lips quivering. the cowboy revels in this, enjoyment prominent the way his cold iron hands grip the plush of your thighs. "ya taste too good baby!" he proclaims, one hand then proceeding to glide to your inner thighs. with his fingers, he ghosts a caress on the other parts of your sex as well as flicking the tip of his wet tongue over your hole. arousal continues to drip down, a cloudy color spilling the longer the oral sex dragged on.

a pungent scent of cum mixed with sweat wafts inside the place - you feel lost and at cloud nine at the same time. it felt ecstatic, but unreal as to how your head buzzes with euphoria. you couldn't get enough of the galaxy ranger pleasuring your parts in more ways than one, his tongue and hand makes a perfect combination to douse the flames of your lustful temptations. your eyes roll back the slower boothill goes with licking your part . . . drool slowly escaping past the margins of your lips.

he halts for a moment, tilting his head to the side as he watches you become disheveled from the overwhelming stimulation. desire sears inside him, a strong carnal urge to make you feel good even more. suddenly, he flips you around, your naked back facing him and your only support being his leaden, metal arms. he was cold to the touch, a surprising chill rides on your sweaty skin.

"i'll keep ya still darling." the male proudly states and leaves a chaste kiss on your nape. as the cyborg was left with no more mortal parts other than his heart and mind, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, reveling in the warmth and intimacy of being skin to skin. "however, i can't say fa' sure if i do this." a distinct accent laces his tone as he thrusts his fingers inside your hole, the glacial surface of his digits makes a polar opposite of your velvet walls.

endless strings of ejaculation spring out - it appears that all you needed was a tad bit of penetration for you to reach your climax. you heavily pant to desperately catch your breath, eyelids weighing heavy. "well? how was it?" he asks, curiosity dancing in his two monochrome hues.

[bandgie]

Cat and Mouse

mdni18+ | fem!reader, pussy eating, teeth use, manipulation (from both parties), fuckboy!wooyoung, cum eating (m!), semi-public oral

2.3k words

You never understood why people don't like fuck boys.

Okay, that's an overstatement. You do know why. They lie, they cheat, and they make pretty little promises in hopes of getting in your pants. They think with the head between their legs and drool at the sight of new pussy. Truly, they were just men who peaked in high school. 

They're pathetic, but easy.

A game is a game, and these types of men tend to forget it's multiplayer. All you have to do is act a little clueless, pretend to be happy to see them, and their absolute favorite, be innocent. Be the perfect little prey they think you are and they'll do anything for a chance. 

It really is easy. 

It's how you managed to snag a date with Wooyoung. He had been asking for weeks since the semester started. Walking you to class, to your car, seeming like a nice boy on the outside, but you know better. You've seen the subtle winks to his friends, the predatory gaze on your body. As much as you would have loved to give it up on the first day, you want to at least have some of a good time and not fucked like a fleshlight. 

You can still picture the grin on his face, the way the mole under his eye shifted with his smile. Well, you don't have to imagine it. He's giving you like sly look now, one hand on the wheel while he's turned to you. The car's been in park for a while. Wooyoung claimed he needed a minute to sit after a nice dinner. It's been way past a minute, however, and the conversation took a bit of a sexual turn.

"I dunno," you shyly rub your hands together. "I don't think I'll be any good."

Wooyoung is patient though, more than you would have thought. "That's okay. We don't even have to do anything. I would just love to keep hanging out with you." I would love to put my dick in your pussy, is what he's really saying, but at least he's being nice about it. "I won't do anything you're not comfortable with."

You nod, pretending to think about what you want to do. "It's just you're so nice and so good-looking. I don't want you to think anything bad of me." Wooyoung is already shaking his head before you can finish, "I would never think of you differently. If you're attracted to somebody, and they're attracted to you, there's nothing wrong with acting on it. But don't feel like you have to. I can talk with you just like this and feel just as happy."

Definitely a smooth talker. You can't help but think about how many hearts he's broken with those lies. "You promise?"

"Of course," but his fox smile gives it away. "You're cool. I haven't felt this comfortable on a date like this before." It's not a shock he's feeling that way. You've perfected your lines and your bashful looks to get him right where he is. The way your dress clings to your body only helps. It's short enough to imagine bending you over the hood of the car and low-cut enough for Wooyoung to keep glancing down at your chest. The dress isn't enough to scream slut! but enough for curious eyes to wander. 

"Thank you," you giggle. "I don't think anyone's told me that before." Your admission makes Wooyoung smile. A genuine look of satisfaction as if it's his heart that swells instead of his cock. He tilts his head to the side. A strand of hair falls over his forehead from the movement. He's cute, hot with his hair slicked back. It's easy to fall under his spell and if you're not careful, you might slip.

But you're well versed with men like him.

You let him lean close, you let his hand gently cup the side of your face. You're fully expecting teeth and tongue, but Wooyoung pauses just before your lips make contact. His dark eyes glance to yours, waiting. 

You nod.

The kiss is not what you were expecting from him. It's not hungry not is it demanding. It's gentle, it's sweet, and it's comfortable. You easily slide against his lips, your hand grabbing onto his wrist and bringing him closer. He tastes slightly like the meat he ordered earlier. It makes you smile into the kiss and you feel him smile back.

You're the one to pull away first. Your lips disconnect with a soft smack and you look into his eyes. "Was that okay?" His body slightly shivers, and he nods while chuckling. "Yes. That was better than okay." You laugh with him, noticing how his hand drops to the exposed part of your thigh to gently rub your skin. 

Only a second of silence passes before Wooyoung asks, "Can we do something a little more?" Then he quickly adds, "If not I totally understand." You have to bite back a smile, you've never met a fuckboy so honest yet deceiving at the same time.

"I dunno, Wooyoung," you play with his hand that's on your lap. "I think hookups are...unfair." This makes him raise an eyebrow, "Unfair? I don't think I've heard that one before. Can I ask why?"

"Like..." you pretend to think of your rehearsed words. "The girl doesn't really get to...finish. You know what I mean?" Judging from the shocked and slightly offended look on Wooyoung's face, you think you have him. "I'm not saying you can't, but I know it's a thing that guys have a hard time making the girl feel good."

Wooyoung is silent for a minute. You can't tell what he's thinking and you begin to think that maybe he took it personally. You're preparing for the worst when he lays his seat all the way down.

"What are doing?"

"Gonna prove you wrong," he simply says. "Come on, right here." Wooyoung points to his face, You narrow your eyes, unsure of what he's asking. "You want me to keep kissing you like that?"

"Nooo," he laughs and shakes his head. "Sit on it." You sputter a choked laugh. This wasn't quite what you had in mind. You thought he'd tell you that he was different, that he would flick your clit while bouncing you on his lap. Just some effort to make you cum, not have a face-sitting session. 

Not what you were expecting, but you're already eager to lift your dress. 

You play with the hem of your clothes, "Right now?" He nods, licking his lips. "Yep. It's already late and hardly anyone knows this place. I got tinted windows too. You don't have to worry too much, pretty." 

Shit, he's good. He took you to a low-key place, paid for dinner, kissed you almost passionately, and gave you an offer you couldn't refuse. Perhaps this mouse has more tricks than you bargained for.

"O-okay," you try to keep your innocent façade. "Just, let me know if you can't breathe." Wooyoung lets out a last laugh and helps you crawl to him. It's difficult to not step on his limbs, but you manage to hobble over his shoulders. One knee is bent on the headrest just next to his head. Your other knee is planted on the backseat, keeping you hovering above Wooyoung's face. You've perched your arms on the headrest of the back seat, facing the rear window and arching your back. 

It's not the most ideal position, but you have to give Wooyoung some credit. It's doable at the very least.

Wooyoung does the honor of keeping your dress lifted. His eyes lock at your clothed core, plain underwear with the only decoration being a small wet spot where your entrance is. 

"Someone got a little excited, huh?" He giggles at himself. "Do you care about your underwear getting a little more wet?"

And he's a tease? You think you're in over your head with this one. "It's okay." You feel Wooyoung nod under you and soon feel a hot muscle over your clit. 

Granted, it's not as hot compared to if he took your underwear off, but it still makes you jump. Wooyoung keeps his tongue flat while moving it in gentle circles. You rock your hips against his mouth, following his muscle.

You gasp at the feel of something hard. It takes a second for your brain to register his teeth running against your slit. Your underwear makes the perfect barrier for the sensation to be wonderfully strange. You let out a moan and grind on his face. His nose bumps the peak of your clit every time you move up and he seems to be completely okay being ambushed in your cunt.

"Mmf! Like it that much?" Wooyoung pulls away just enough to speak. You grind a little more before answering, "I dunno yet."

That spurs him on. Wooyoung bunches your dress in one fist and uses his free hand to move your underwear to the side. You can't tell, but he can see how messy your pussy is. Your clit is fat, wet with need, and begging for Wooyoung to directly touch it. It makes something in him primal, aching for your raw taste on his tastebuds. 

His tongue swipes over your cunt, letting your juices soak his muscle. You whine at the feeling of him and still your hips. Wooyoung's thumb hooks over your underwear so the rest of his fingers splay over your thigh. He squeezes and kneads your flesh, strangely adding to the pleasure of him tasting you.

The further he digs his digits, the more you moan. It's a trick you didn't even know existed and Wooyoung is using your surprise to his advantage. 

His kitten lick feels good alone, but your toes curl at the feeling of him sucking. Wooyoung has your nub in his mouth with his tongue rolling against it. You squeal and your hips buck so roughly that your pussy pops from his mouth with a wet sound.

"Damn," he sounds raspy. "Didn't think you'd have such a sensitive pussy." Wooyoung strains his neck to reach up, latching onto your cunt once more. You whimper and carefully place your weight back on, trying your best not to move this time.

"I just," you let out a moan when he sucks it again. "It's just been a while."

Which is a lie. Well, somewhat. You got eaten out not that long ago, but not this good. Not in a position where you could get caught, where he adds the tiniest bit of pain to add to the pleasure. Everything's an additional layer of arousal that you didn't think you needed. 

Wooyoung says something but it sounds like muffles in your cunt. You hone in on sliding against his face, making sure his nose and chin bump your clit with every drag. Maybe you're going a little crazy on your first date, but there's no guarantee you'll get another chance like this. You might as well use it to your advantage.

Your orgasm slowly builds. You can feel the heat in your stomach and chest, making you whine louder and higher. Wooyoung groans with you, gripping your waist and thigh harder as you suffocate him. You hang your head to look down at him, but all you can see is the top of his hair. Even if you can't see him devouring your cunt, the sight makes you clench. A reminder about how terribly empty you are.

As if knowing, Wooyoung dips his tongue until it catches your entrance. He buries it in you, uncaring how tight your pussy squeezes him and leaks. You whimper, unmoving so Wooyoung can thrust his tongue deep inside.

"Fuck. If you keep doing that I'll cum."

You nearly scream when he doesn't stop. He goes faster, so hard that you can hear the lewd noises vibrating in the car. He gulps down your essence, he moans into your pulsing cunt. Never have you met such an eager fuckboy. One who goes above and beyond without getting his dick wet once.

It's almost cute, but you don't dwell on it too much when you finally tip over. Your walls clench Wooyoung's tongue, creaming so much that it paints his lips white. He fucks you through it as he manages to slide his tongue out and across your clit. 

You rest your cheek against the cushion of the backseat. Normally, guys are eager to push you off and shove their dicks in, but not Wooyoung. He eats you steadily and overwhelmingly. You're the one prying yourself from his mouth, chuckling at his protests and pleas for you to take back your seat.

Your back aches from being arched and your legs scream as you wobbly sit back on the passenger side. Wooyoung shifts his seat up while swiping his lips with his thumb. He collects the last bits of cream and pops it back into his mouth. 

By far the weirdest fuckboy you've encountered, but you're not complaining. You got to cum good, got to ride out your high, and got a meal paid for. You're expecting him to ask for a blowjob, but he twists the keys into the ignition and it roars to life.

"Oh," you hadn't meant to say it out loud, but Wooyoung hears you. He turns his head to you, lips shining with your cum. "What? I'm taking you home right?"

You blink at him, completely thrown for a loop. It takes a few awkward seconds before you answer, "Yeah. Sounds good."

You're starting to think maybe he came his pants and is too shy to do anything else, but you catch the smirk as he turns back to the front windshield and puts the car in reverse. 

It then occurs to you that maybe you weren't the cat after all. 

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

“𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡”♡‧₊˚

synopsis: first time giving head and the general is generous to offer you some help <3

tags: oral, first time, soft and praise filled

wrd cnt: 650+

a/n: rewrite/repost from first acc!

Imagine spending the day with Jing Yuan on his time off, what little hours he had, your general chose to spend with you.

You'll relive memories over drinks, laugh over embarrassing stories, and maybe you'll even uncover some secrets about him, intimate secrets only for you.

You open up to him, about whatever the evening spills; some innocent, and some not.

After some long due blabbering and breaking of the tension, you're in his bedroom and your tongue is being pushed against his in a fiery battle neither of you want to lose.

You told Jing Yuan all about your inexperience, but you told him even more about how much you wanted him, how much you’ve wanted him so for long.

You glance at the tent in his pants growing in between the slow and sensual make out going on between you two, and your hand finds its way under his clothes. He smirks against your lips.

"Y/n, I thought you told me you haven't done this before?" he recalls.

"You're right, but I want you in my mouth more."

You feel his cock pulse because of your words, slowly you kneel down; you fold up his shirt and kiss along his abs, trailing down to his thighs and leaving a small bite mark, now sitting in between his marked up thighs.

You removed his clothes and watch his hard cock spring up from his pants.

Just seeing it makes you want to swallow everything he gives you.

All of your worries melt as his hand caresses your head, as he helps you push your hair back.

"Open your mouth princess."

You do as your general commands, and he presses his thumb down onto your tongue, toying with it while never breaking his eye contact with you. You suck lightly on his thumb before he removes it, and slaps his fat cocktip on your tongue.

He gives you a small nod and you start with kitten licks, paying most attention to his throbbing head. You suck the precum that's already oozing out, and earn a groan from him in the process.

“Just like that-mhm…”

Your soft lips envelope his member, and his leg twitches due to the pleasure you grant him.

"Fuck…..what a naughty thing you are", he says in surprise.

His hand is now wrapped into your hair, and he's tilting you down, you'd be lying if you said that you didn't want him to fuck your face so hard, until all you could do was let the tears run off your face, but he's sweet with you.

"Let me help you love, do you feel me in your throat?"

You definitely could, which he understood from your lack of reply.

His cock felt even bigger in your mouth than in your hand, and you could feel yourself start to gag on his dick with how thick it was. You wanted him to cum down your throat, ruin you so bad, you didn't care anymore.

You start to bob your head weakly on his girth, moving along with his pace while gently twisting your hand around the base of his cock, you wince slightly.

"You can't take it baby? You're gonna have to." He says, as he speeds up his pace, ramming his cock into your throat with his hand laced behind your head.

He watches you struggle to take him and sees you rubbing your sore little pussy with your other hand, you were getting off to his dominance, from his cock in your mouth, aching him filling up your cunt.

Seeing you pleasure yourself from sucking him off drove Jing Yuan to the edge, soon you felt his cock grow hot, followed by thick loads of his cum coating your mouth.

"Swallow it all, not one drop comes out of your mouth or I'll fuck it back in, got it?

"Yes General", you say, kissing his tip and gaining a deep groan of satisfaction. words

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [11]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.7k

Trigger Warnings: gore, implied mutilation

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 10 | Fic Masterlist | Part 12

Hearing the cessation of all the screams, one of the royal guards gathered the courage to enter the chamber and check on Seonghwa, "Sir, are you done?"

Upon entering, he had yet to witness the state in which the former minister was left. The general stood before his victim, actively wiping all the blood off his hands with a towel prepared beforehand, "It's done. Has my assistant arrived to pick me up?"

"Yes, sir. Assistant Choi is waiting with your carriage by the entrance. If I remember correctly, he mentioned Lady Park helped prepare dinner today." A smile instantly graced your husband's face at the mere mention of you.

"Thank you, soldier. Bring in the rest and clean up the mess," He instructed, finally stepping away from the seat in the middle of the room, revealing the sight of your father slumped in the chair, both of his arms missing, blood gushing out from his shoulders, "Get him to a physician before banishing him. No need to treat him extensively; heal him just enough to keep him alive."

Freezing, the guard nodded quickly, "Y-yes, sir! We will not let you down!" His round eyes fixated on the two mutilated limbs on the ground in the middle of the puddle of crimson liquid.

The general was truly not someone to be underestimated, that was evident to the royal guards who filed in later on to clean up the bloody mess. They now understood why Seonghwa was so feared among those who had worked with him or witnessed his cold-blooded nature firsthand.

However, rather than instilling pure terror, your husband garnered more respect from them. He had gone to great lengths just to avenge his beloved wife. This demonstrated that the man still possessed a heart after all and that his affection for Lady Park was undeniable. He has proven that he could love just as fiercely as he hated.

Not a single member of the palace staff harboured even a hint of pity for the former Minister of Military Affairs as they dealt with his mangled body according to instructions. Any citizen with access to news was aware of all the cruel acts the old man had committed against his own daughter and first wife. It was safe to say that witnessing him in this state brought ample satisfaction not only to the general but to others as well.

"Sir, there's a bit of blood here."

The assistant extended his handkerchief, ensuring his master was free from any signs of bloodshed as they returned home. The last thing they all needed was for you to catch on to any of the events that occurred today; you should only focus on happiness and never spare another thought for your so-called family from now onwards.

"Thank you, Jongho," The general responded, taking the piece of fabric to remove the small bloodstain on his neck, "Keep me posted on where they banished that clown afterwards. It would be nice to check in on him once in a while, for entertainment purposes."

"Yes, sir."

Upon entering the estate, he was surprised not to find you waiting for him by the entrance, as was your usual routine when he returned from work. Only the head maid and a few servants stood there, ready to greet him, "Welcome home, master. We hope you had a good day at work." They said with a deep bow.

Seonghwa frowned, "Where's the mistress?" The elderly woman replied, "Mistress is currently at the main hall having a chat with Royal Secretary Choi while they were awaiting your return."

That immediately had the general rushing towards the hall. He didn't like the thought of you alone with... yet another handsome man. He had finally grown accustomed to having Yunho around the estate whenever he was at work, only because the two of you rarely interacted; he knew that thanks to daily reports from Eunsook. Now, jealousy was flooding his veins again.

What if you found San more attractive?

"Yes, I fully understand your concern. My sister faces similar issues," The royal secretary's voice carried from outside the hall, and then your softer response followed, "Thank you so much for your help, San. It means a lot to me."

They're already on a first-name basis?

"Help? With what?" He queried, abruptly pulling you and the secretary from your conversation. Both of you looked up at him, and you blinked and stammered nervously, quickly rising from your seat, "Oh, Seonghwa! You're home! It's nothing, we were just having a casual conversation while waiting for you."

Sensing your unease, San chuckled and concurred, "Yes, it was nothing important. It's good that you're back; I've come to deliver the minutes of today's assembly to you, as per His Majesty's orders."

"Please don't let me interrupt; I'll be waiting for you at the dining hall," You remarked to your husband, offering a nod of gratitude to the secretary, "It was nice talking to you, Royal Secretary Choi," The man respectfully bowed his head, "And you, Lady Park."

The general watched the interaction between you two with unmistakable envy, causing San to suppress a snicker into his fist, "Without further ado, general, let's proceed so that you can join your wife for dinner as soon as possible," Seonghwa nodded, feigning nonchalance, "Of course."

As the secretary continued to share the main details discussed during the assembly, he noticed the general's slight distraction. Wrapping up the debrief, he decided to ease your husband's thoughts by divulging the nature of your earlier conversation.

"Listen, before you came back, Lady Park and I were just talking about her concerns regarding being a better wife. Given that my elder sister, who is married, shares similar worries, I was merely offering some insights that might be helpful. So, don't stress over it too much, okay? I assure you, you're the only one on her mind."

Learning that you were only seeking to improve yourself for him, Seonghwa's heart melted immediately. Regret washed over him for entertaining the notion that you might find his colleague more appealing, and a slight embarrassment crept in, "I, uhh... it's not like I was worried about that or anything... but thank you, San. If that's all for today, Jongho will escort you out."

The secretary held back his knowing smile as they bid each other farewell before the general made his way to the dining hall. His heart pounded with excitement at the thought of being with you again.

Dinner went by as usual, though this time, you were brimming with enthusiasm as you shared how you spent the day learning to prepare his favourite dishes from the kitchen staff. You even mentioned the surprising discovery that you might have developed a love for cooking. He ate more than usual, savouring the fact that the meal was made just for him, and found it difficult to take his eyes off of you throughout the night.

He had once considered happiness to be a frivolous notion, something only fools wished for. He never anticipated being the one to experience it. Now that he had, your husband was determined not to lose this newfound feeling.

With your family matters now resolved, the only thing remaining was to give you the grand wedding you truly deserved. From then on, the plan was to enjoy a lifetime of this happiness together. Watching you munching away with joy, he couldn't resist reaching over to affectionately wipe the corner of your lips. At that moment, he realised that this was all he needed.

After the meal, he walked you back to the House of Lotus, hand in hand as usual. Upon reaching the entrance, you smiled up at him, "Have a good night, Seonghwa."

However, before you could turn and leave, he swiftly cupped your face, "Wait, before you go..." Your heart quickened as he leaned in, whispering, "Just one kiss, my love."

Almost instinctively, your eyes fluttered closed as soon as his lips met yours in a tender kiss. The warmth spread through your insides as he wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss by angling his head.

Feeling the sensation of his lips pressing against yours, again and again, you finally understood why couples enjoyed kissing. It was hard to put into words, but being so close to him felt pleasant, and your husband had a unique way of making you feel beautiful with his touches, even when you doubted it yourself. There was an almost addictive quality to it, making you feel like the luckiest woman in the world to be desired by the great General Park.

Perhaps I've found it... my happiness.

After breaking the kiss for a breath, he leaned his forehead against yours, a smile adorning his face as he looked down at you lovingly. In silence, the two of you remained in each other's arms, basking in the moment, reluctant to part.

Unfortunately, the moment was cut short as your assigned group of servants approached, "Oh, pardon us for the intrusion, master and mistress! We came to assist in preparing the mistress for bed. May we proceed, master? Or, if you wish to stay with the mistress, we could also make arrangements for both of you for the night in the House of Lotus."

His heart raced as he witnessed the faint blush on your cheeks in response to the maid's suggestion. Chuckling, he gently shook his head and placed a kiss on your forehead, "No, the mistress needs her rest. Perhaps another time. Go on ahead then; she will join you soon."

"Yes, master, as you wish."

The servants entered your quarters to prepare your bath while you exchanged your goodnight. Caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, he couldn't resist leaning in for a final, lingering kiss on your soft lips, "Goodnight, my love. I'll see you tomorrow."

As you made your way to your room, he felt a swell of affection watching you turn for one last wave before disappearing inside. He missed you already, and as much as he would have loved to hold you close all night, he knew that waiting until your proper wedding night to share the same bed was the right decision. For now, this was more than enough. After all, he had the rest of his life to spend with you.

"Thank goodness the ointment has been remarkably effective. I don't think you need to harbour any insecurities about your appearance anymore. Lady Park, you look beautiful." said Physician Jung as he arrived to assess the condition of your skin. Having you apply the medicine he prepared for some time, he recognised that his work here would soon be done.

Eunsook couldn't contain the grin on her face at the slight pink dusting your cheeks from the doctor's compliment, suddenly relieved that her master was not around. Lord knows how unamused he would have been to hear any of that or see your reaction.

"Yes, thank you, Yunho. She's always been ravishing with or without your ointment. I think your job here is done; it's my turn to enhance this beauty. Head over to the general's study for your pay if that's all," The doctor couldn't resist rolling his eyes at the dressmaker's dramatic entrance, "It's nice to see you too, Hongjoong."

With a dismissive wave, he shrugged off the sarcastic greeting from his tall friend, saying, "I'll catch up with you soon; I have work to do." Left with no other choice, Yunho offered one final bow to you before leaving your room with a maid escorting him out.

Closing the distance between you, the dressmaker swiftly retrieved the new hanbok he had made specifically for the special occasion today, declaring, "Now, who is ready to outshine all the princesses in the palace? It's you, Lady Park!"

"Outshine the princesses? I d-don't think that's a good idea—"

He interrupted you before you could finish your protest, "Nonsense! I promised General Park to make you the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon." With a small giggle, you sighed in defeat and allowed him to work his magic with the assistance of the head maid as they coordinated your appearance for your visit to the palace.

Today marked the day you and Seonghwa were meeting the King and Queen to discuss the details of your wedding ceremony in-depth, as well as allowing the royal couple to finally meet you after having heard so much about you. Even without having seen you, they already adored you from the stories your husband had shared. Not to mention, their hearts ached, especially after learning about your nightmarish childhood.

Seated at the vanity table, you gazed at your reflection in amazement as Eunsook worked on your hair and makeup, with Hongjoong providing expert advice and guidance. Just as the elderly woman was about to conceal the remaining faint scars on your face as she had always done, the dressmaker intervened, "No, wait. Leave the one on her forehead as it is; I have an idea."

With his extensive knowledge of fashion and beauty, he had always been intrigued by the Chinese makeup style, which incorporated temporary tattoos. Specifically, he was drawn to the idea of a small flower design painted onto women's foreheads.

Rather than covering your marks, he opted to transform them into an accessory that would improve your overall looks. With this distinctive look, you were bound to capture attention from all directions, not that your beauty didn't already achieve that. Now, you would stand out wherever you went, even within the palace grounds where princesses and royal concubines were always impeccably dressed.

Waiting by the entrance, Seonghwa turned when he recognised the sound of your dainty footsteps approaching. He didn't miss his assistant's awestruck expression, taking in your appearance from behind him, "Finally, Hongjoong's taken way too long..."

As you stepped into full view, his words trailed off, and his gaze fixed on you with a mix of astonishment and sheer admiration. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he couldn't find the words to express what he felt. You had always been beautiful in his eyes, but his friend had truly outdone himself this time.

The most significant difference that caught the general's attention was the little red flower on your forehead, right between your eyes. That delicate design elegantly covered one of the scars you bore from your past. It was a stroke of genius from the dressmaker, turning a mark of pain into a unique and striking accessory that enhanced your natural beauty.

Your husband approached you, his eyes never leaving yours. Finally finding his voice, he whispered, "You look breathtaking, my love," before gently reaching up to trace the edge of the flower on your forehead, his touch soft and filled with so much love, "Hongjoong, you've done wonders."

The dressmaker grinned proudly and nodded in agreement, "I know, I always do."

Throughout the journey to the palace, the general found it hard to divert his gaze from you, just as you were captivated by the passing scenery outside. The roads to the palace differed from the usual routes leading to town, explaining your intrigue. As he admired your beautiful face, an unexpected desire surged within him to take you back home and shield you from others' eyes. A sudden uncertainty about wanting anyone else to see you overcame him. A selfish impulse urged him to keep you all to himself.

Before he could entertain the impulsive idea of turning the carriage around, Jongho had already announced their arrival. This time, Eunsook didn't bother to stand by and assist you down, instead waiting expectantly as the general smoothly helped you in one swift movement, determined to keep you close.

Having been here more than enough, Seonghwa knew this place might appear beautiful on the inside but could be very dangerous at the same time. People here might seem nice but rarely could be trusted, particularly the women. Well aware of this, he hesitated to let you wander off alone, despite your status as his wife. You were easily recognisable as Lady Park from a distance, anyone would have to be insane to dare mess with you.

Even so, he had no intention of leaving your side for even a moment. Palace servants passing by bowed deeply at both of you, and you did your best to maintain the poise of a noblewoman as practised with the head maid. The last thing you wanted was to make your husband look bad in here.

As you both approached the hall for the meeting with His and Her Majesty, the royal secretary rushed out to intercept the two of you. Almost as if your husband had jinxed it, San exclaimed, "There you are, General Park! We have a bit of a situation right now. Your immediate presence is required at an emergency meeting."

"But my wife—"

Finally realising you were present, the secretary bowed, "Oh, right, Lady Park! We're all aware you're here to discuss your wedding arrangements, but this really cannot wait. Even His Majesty is currently in this meeting expecting you. Would it be alright if we have your wife waiting by the cherry blossom garden? We'll have the servants prepare her some refreshments."

As much as Seonghwa detested the sudden change of plans, he acknowledged that he was left with no choice upon sensing the urgency in San's demeanour. With a nod of defeat, he agreed, "Okay, fine. Eunsook, please stay by the mistress' side at all times."

She nodded with a bow, "Of course, master."

Turning to you with a regretful frown etched on his brows, he said, "I'm sorry for having to leave you alone, my love. I'll come back to you as quickly as I can, I promise."

You shook your head with an understanding smile, "Don't worry about me, Seonghwa. I'll be fine. Your work is more important. Now hurry and go. Don't make His Majesty wait." Sighing lightly, he pecked you on the head before rushing off with the royal secretary.

"Lady Park, please come with us. We will guide you to the cherry blossom garden."

A team of palace maids appeared before you, showing you as much respect as they would towards royalty. Your status and reputation were well-known nationwide; you were favoured not only by your husband but also by the King and Queen themselves. No one would dare to disrespect you for fear of dire consequences.

Their dedication was evident in the top-tier hospitality as they led you to the enchanting garden, unlike anything you had ever seen. After thanking them politely, they prepared a seat for you in one of the pavilions within the vast garden, serving a tray of tea and some sophisticated-looking snacks.

Boredom eventually set in, and you glanced at one of the palace maids standing ready by the pavilion for any orders you might have for her, "Excuse me, would it be okay for me to take a walk around the garden?"

"Oh, certainly, Lady Park! Feel free to explore the garden as you please. Would you like any of us to accompany you?" Smiling and glancing at Eunsook, you declined, "No, thank you. We'll manage on our own. We won't be gone too long; you have my word."

"Thank you, Lady Park. Your assurance is appreciated; we'll await your return here." They bowed deeply as you and the head maid began your leisurely stroll.

As you wandered through the picturesque garden, marvelling at the vibrant colours of the flowers, you inadvertently caught the eye of a stranger who happened to be nearby. Your beauty, accentuated by the mark on your forehead, captivated the attention of this mysterious figure. What intrigued him even more was the unmistakable childlike innocence reflected in your eyes.

From a distance, he observed you with awe. The way you carried yourself, the genuine delight on your face as you admired the flowers and scenery—it all conveyed a sense of authenticity. Unlike anyone he had encountered, you seemed untouched by pretentiousness or spoiled airs.

Driven by an unexplainable urge to get closer, the stranger slowly made his way towards you, navigating through the enchanting garden. His curiosity was piqued, and he couldn't resist the desire to learn more about the intriguing woman who had captured his attention.

Unaware of the approaching figure as you immersed yourself in the beauty of the flowers, a clearing of the throat behind you signalled his presence. Eunsook, recognising the newcomer, widened her eyes and began to bow, but he gestured for her to remain silent with a finger against his lips and a subtle shake of his head.

Interrupting the tranquillity, the unexpected deep voice spoke, "It's beautiful, isn't it? Do you know what cherry blossoms symbolise?"

Startled, you turned to find a handsome man dressed elegantly, smiling down at you. After a moment of surprise, you nodded, "I do. I've read that they symbolise purity and beauty."

The man acknowledged, "That's right, much like you, my lady."

Concern flickered in the head maid's eyes, realising that the stranger might be unaware of your identity and possibly attempting to make a romantic gesture. Before matters could escalate, she decided to intervene, "Allow me to express our deepest respect, Your Highness. This is Lady Park, the esteemed wife of General Park. Mistress, may I present to you Prince Yeosang."

« Preview of Part 12 »

Seonghwa's eyes widened as they approached the War and Strategy Department building, where soldiers were marching about hastily, "Wait a minute, don't tell me—"

The royal secretary had no time to explain as he pulled the general into the meeting room where all military officials were seated and awaiting anxiously. The King, positioned in the middle of the room, sighed deeply upon noticing your husband's arrival.

"You're here, General Park. Is your wife also in the palace?" His Majesty asked, rubbing his head to alleviate an oncoming headache.

Seonghwa nodded in confirmation and inquired, "Yes, she is. She's waiting by the cherry blossom garden as we speak. Now, tell me. What is it? What has happened?"

With regret in his eyes, the King grimaced, "I'm so sorry, my boy. It seems your wedding will have to wait. Relations with the neighbouring nation, Ruhon, have not been very good lately. I fear war is inevitable this time, and... we need you."

Just wanted to make it clear that Ruhon is a fictional country. I've thought about it and decided it's probably best not to use real places for fear of offending anyone.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section

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[thatfandomslut]

Ultimate Betrayal

Regina George x Reader, Janis Imi'ike x Sibling!Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warnings: angry Janis Imi'ike, betraying a sibling, cussing, arguing, in depth make-out session (including a moan from Regina)

Request:

can i request regina x janis sibling fic? where they’re lowkey hiding their relationship

Mean Girls Requests are open.

(Y/n) Imi'ike knew that she was far too deep into whatever troubled waters she had found herself in. But she was also now at the point where she didn't care too much either. Instead, she ignored the voice in her head, telling her what she was doing was a bad idea, as she was pushed against the wall by Regina George herself. Their lips clashed violently as Regina's fingers found themselves tangled into (Y/n)'s hair. (Y/n)'s fingers looped themselves in Regina's pant buckle loops as she pulled her closer. It was times like these, where they were making out, that (Y/n) forgot who she even was.

Being the younger sister of Janis Imi'ike, the most outspoken person at school, was not an easy task. Not when Janis and Regina became enemies during middle school. Of course, (Y/n) was fully aware of who Regina was and what she had done. In fact, when Regina first began her pursuit of (Y/n)'s heart, she was rejected various times until she finally convinced (Y/n) that she had changed. Despite this change, Janis and Regina were not friends, and (Y/n) found herself lying awake at night, guiltily recounting the fact that hours before coming home, in the janitor's closet, her lips were taken in by Regina's.

(Y/n) knew that every time she slipped into the janitor's closet to meet with Regina, every after-school hang-out that occurred after long drives far from town, was her actively betraying her sister. She tried to stop seeing Regina several times, but couldn't help but miss sneaking over to Regina's and slipping into her bed at night on the weekends. Regina had her completely head over heels, and vice versa, Regina was just as enamored by (Y/n) as she was by her.

Regina attempted to apologize to Janis for what she had done. She wanted to make sure that there was a clean slate to help relieve all of (Y/n)'s guilty thoughts. However, Janis could not find it in her to forgive her. Regina understood, of course, but after several attempts to make things right, she forced herself to stop worrying about it. (Y/n) had seen all the attempts and she even tried talking to Janis. Janis wasn't buying any of it, though. That was why they were forced to hide what they had in the confines of a small janitorial closet at school. But, admittedly, it was all becoming too much for both of them.

Regina and (Y/n) became lost in themselves as Regina deepened the kiss, her tongue dragging on (Y/n)'s bottom lip. (Y/n) allowed Regina access. Both of them were too engrossed in each other to hear the janitor's door creak open, revealing a shocked Cady and Janis (who seemingly had the same idea as them). It took a moment for Janis to fully process what she was seeing, but it was the soft moan from Regina when her teeth clashed with (Y/n)'s that finally knocked Janis out of her trance.

"What the fuck," Janis questioned, her hand dropping from Cady's. She took silent satisfaction in watching (Y/n) and Regina jump apart from each other, fear adorning their features. Cady looked at them awkwardly as she rubbed her arm up and down, not knowing if she should say anything. Regina moved to step in front of (Y/n) before (Y/n) took the lead on being protective towards her. Janis's look of shock morphed into a scowl, hurt pooling in her brown eyes. "I can't believe my sister would be here making out with the person who ruined my life."

There was a brief moment of guilt that passed through (Y/n) before she crossed her arms. "Don't do that, Janis. She has apologized several times, and she has tried to make it better. She isn't excusing what she has done, but she has made efforts to make it right with you." (Y/n) defended Regina, causing Janis to scoff loudly. She pondered for a moment on whether she should just storm out, but instead, she stayed there, narrowing her eyes at her sibling. "I know you two had a rough past, but you need to move on. Please, for me. I know I hurt you by keeping this a secret, but it's because I knew you'd be mad if you found out." (Y/n) felt like she was only making it worse for herself at that moment. She didn't know how to make it better.

Janis's fists clenched for a moment before she breathed in and out when Cady placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Out of everyone in this entire fucking school, why Regina George? You know she hurt me, but you chose her." Janis said, her voice trembling.

"She rejected me a lot," Regina spoke up, causing Janis to look the blonde's way in slight shock that she was speaking. She almost forgot that Regina was there. Hell, if Cady hadn't touched her shoulder, she would've forgotten her girlfriend was there, too. "She told me that she hated what I did to you, and truthfully; I hated what I did to you, too. So, I tried to make it better. But there is only so much trying and growing a person can do. I can't force you to like me, but (Y/n) can't force herself to not feel her feelings either. And we tried to not speak and to not date, but the more we tried, the harder it got."

Janis shook her head as she took a step back. "I'm sorry, but I'm not ready to forgive you, Regina. But, I'm not sorry for feeling betrayed. I can't talk to you right now." Janis walked out, and Cady sent them both a sympathetic look and waved awkwardly before following Janis out. (Y/n) wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks as Regina held her. Even as Janis was storming off, she couldn't find it in herself to feel guilty for falling in love anymore.

[idkyetxoxo]

Daemon Targaryen - Him and I

Summary - Bound by a passion that thrives on violence and chaos, they eliminate anyone who dares to cross them. Their love becomes both their greatest strength and their most dangerous weapon, a perfect match in their shared madness.

Pairing - Daemon Targaryen x Arryn reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!), violence (mentions)

Word count - 2044

Masterlist for Daemon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

He's out his head, I'm out my mind we got that love, the crazy kind.

"He can keep his tongue," Daemon declared, his voice laced with smug satisfaction. 

The expression settled on his face as he rested his hands on the hilt of his sword, slick with blood, which seemed to meld with his hand as though it were an extension of his very being, a dark instrument of his will.

The man's life had drained away at his feet, but Daemon seemed untroubled, as if violence was as natural to him as breathing. A crimson pool spread slowly beneath his boots, the thick blood glistening under the flickering torchlight like a river of molten rubies, each drop a silent witness to the carnage.

I flinched, a fleeting reaction to the brutality that had just unfolded before me but then, a slow smile crept across my lips. My gaze found Daemon's, his eyes already locked onto mine. 

There was no need for words between us. We understood each other in ways that transcended language, our bond forged in the crucible of blood and sharpened by the steel we wielded.

I licked my lips, savouring the metallic tang of blood, his blood. The fool had dared to speak ill of me, and now his life was nothing more than a bitter taste on my tongue, a reminder of the sweet vengeance.

I raised my thumb to wipe away a crimson smear, aware that the rest of my face was likely speckled with droplets, but I found I couldn't care less. 

This was the price of our love, a love that thrived in the shadows of violence, a love as dangerous as it was intoxicating.

The King had decreed that anyone who questioned me, the sister of his late wife, regarding the mysterious death of one of Alicent's ladies-in-waiting would lose their tongue. Daemon, ever the enforcer of our twisted justice, decided that wasn't enough. 

He wanted blood, and he had taken it without hesitation.

"Your Grace," Otto Hightower's voice cut through the tension, thick with anger as he turned to face the King. 

The man's indignation was palpable, his eyes flickering between the lifeless body on the floor and the King who had allowed this to happen but even Otto, with all his political manoeuvring and cold calculation, knew better than to challenge Daemon directly. 

Not when the bond between us was so absolute, so terrifyingly complete.

He saw the madness in our eyes, a madness that could not be swayed by reason or threats, and I could sense his hesitation, a fear born not of cowardice, but of knowing he was outmatched by a love that defied logic and thrived on chaos.

Daemon kills for me, I kill for him. We're both out of our minds, lost in a love so consuming it leaves no room for fear, no space for mercy. 

We've got the kind of love people whisper about in dark corners, the kind that burns too brightly, too fiercely, and leaves only ashes in its wake.

"This matter cannot be ignored," Otto declared, his voice edged with disgust as he turned his gaze toward me. His eyes bore into mine, seething with contempt, but I simply bit my lip to keep from laughing. 

He was so predictable in his self-righteous indignation, so easy to provoke.

"What would you have me do?" Viserys snapped, his frustration bleeding through every word. 

The burden of the crown weighed heavily on him, and Otto's relentless prying was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

"It is common knowledge that Prince Daemon's wife was present when the body of Lady Elia was discovered," Otto pressed on, his tone growing more insistent. "Merely a day after the lady had slandered Prince Daemon's name."

Viserys ran a weary hand over his face, his patience thinning, frayed by the constant tension between loyalty and fear, between the brother he loved and the monster that Daemon had become. 

I clenched my teeth to keep from lashing out. The accusations were nothing new, just more whispers and rumours in a court that thrived on such poison.

"Prince Daemon's wife has a name," I spat, crossing my arms over my chest. 

Otto turned to me, throwing his hands up in exasperation, clearly irked that this was the only part of his condemnation I had chosen to acknowledge.

"There is no proof that my sister-in-law killed Lady Elia. These are merely rumours," Viserys said, his voice calm but resolute as he met my gaze. I offered him a small, knowing smile, and he continued, "She would do no such thing."

"You say this only because she is your late wife's sister," Otto retorted, his voice sharp with accusation.

"Precisely," Viserys replied, his tone softening as he spoke of my sister. "Aemma would never have let it get this far... my Aemma."

Otto turned back to me, his eyes narrowing in disdain, but this time I didn't hold back. I allowed a proud smirk to spread across my face, mouthing a single word "Oops." His jaw clenched in response, but he had nothing left to say.

"Your Grace, I do not wish to continue this conversation," I said, feigning an upset tone as I glanced at Viserys with wide, innocent eyes.

"Of course, my dear," he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. His affection for me, the last living reminder of his beloved Aemma, was a powerful shield against Otto's accusations.

"There will be no further discussions regarding Lady Elia's death," Viserys declared, his voice carrying a finality that brooked no argument. His gaze shifted to the lifeless body at Daemon's feet, the head severed cleanly from the shoulders. "Let Lord Tarly be an example."

With those words, the matter was settled. Daemon, with a flicker of something dark and satisfied in his eyes, turned to me. 

Without a word, he took my hand, pulling me from the throne room and through the winding corridors of the Keep. His grip was firm, and possessive, as if he needed to feel my presence.

We moved in silence until we reached our chambers. The door closed with a solid thud, sealing us in our private world, away from the prying eyes and judgmental stares of others. 

The moment the latch clicked, Daemon pulled me to him, our bodies colliding with a desperate intensity. My chest pressed against his, the heat of his skin seeping through his clothes as he held me close.

"The blood of my enemies looks absolutely beautiful on you," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. His thumb brushed across my bottom lip, smearing a trace of dried blood. 

The touch was possessive, reverent as if he were admiring a work of art.

"Your enemies?" I asked, tilting my head slightly, a teasing smile playing on my lips.

"Any man who speaks ill of my wife is my enemy," he replied, his tone firm and unwavering. His fingers threaded through my hair, pulling gently as he rested his hand on the nape of my neck, holding me in place.

"That's exactly what I like to hear," I whispered, my fingers slipping beneath his tunic, desperate to feel the heat of his skin.

I began tracing the contours of his muscles with a feather-light touch. Feeling him shudder beneath my fingertips, the tension in his body turning to something darker, more primal.

In truth, those words were my lifeline, the assurance that no matter how deep we descended into darkness, he would always be there with me.

"Lady Elia?" he questioned, his voice a low rumble. There was no fear in his eyes, only a dark curiosity.

I smirked, looking away for a moment before meeting his gaze again. Rising onto my tiptoes, I leaned in close to his ear, my breath hot against his skin. 

"She insinuated that you were aggressive and unpredictable," I whispered, biting gently on his earlobe before pulling back to my given height. "I don't like it when people talk ill of my husband, so I killed her."

The admission hung in the air between us, heavy with the weight of our shared madness. Daemon's eyes darkened, his lips curling into a wicked smile. 

Without another word, he crushed his lips against mine in a kiss that was hungry, fierce, and unyielding. It wasn't a kiss of tenderness but one of raw passion, a fire that consumed us both. 

We stumbled backwards, our bodies entwined as we lost ourselves in the moment, in the shared understanding that we were unstoppable together. 

"Tell me what you want, darling," I murmured against his lips, already knowing the answer but craving the sound of his voice. 

His hands were impatient, already tugging at the fabric between us, desperate to feel skin against skin.

"You," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. His lips moved to my neck, trailing sloppy, heated kisses down my body, each one sending shivers of anticipation through me.

"Then have me," I whispered, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer as I surrendered to the inevitable. "Take me."

His hands parted my legs, spreading them wide as he positioned himself. When he began to push inside me, the sudden intrusion made me gasp, my body reacting instinctively. My walls clenched around him, drawing him deeper, as that familiar, aching need built in my core.

He moved with a rhythm that was both demanding and intoxicating, each thrust driving me closer to the edge. I arched against him, meeting his movements with my own, our hips colliding in a primal dance that spoke of love, possession, and the insatiable hunger we had for one another.

"Yes, just like that," I murmured, my voice breathy with pleasure as he adjusted his angle, the tip of his length grazing a spot deep within me that made my entire body shudder.

His eyes locked onto mine, dark and intense.

"You feel so perfect," he growled, his voice thick with the kind of desire that bordered on obsession. "I could stay buried inside you forever."

It wasn't just lust, it was a desperate need, a hunger that could only be sated by knowing that in this moment, I was his and his alone.

A shiver ran through me at his words, my heart pounding in sync with the fierce rhythm of our bodies. 

"Then don't stop," I breathed, my nails raking across his back, leaving red marks in their wake. "I need you, all of you."

Each movement was precise, as though he were playing me like an instrument, drawing out the sweetest music with every thrust, every deep connection between us.

"You have all of me," he rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, of prolonging the pleasure for both of us. "I'm yours, always."

I could feel the climax building, an unstoppable wave that threatened to crash over me, to pull me under and drown me in its depths. My grip on him tightened, nails biting into his flesh as I rode the edge of oblivion, his name spilling from my lips in a fervent chant.

"Let go," he urged, his voice rough, his breath hot against my ear. "Let me feel you come apart for me."

His words were my undoing. With one final, deep thrust, he pushed me over the brink, and I shattered. Pleasure exploded within me, a white-hot blaze that consumed every inch of my being. 

My body convulsed around him, my voice breaking into a cry of ecstasy as the world shattered into a million dazzling pieces. He followed me into that abyss, his own release crashing over him as he buried himself deep inside me, our bodies locked together in the throes of passion.

As the waves of pleasure slowly ebbed, we clung to each other, our breaths mingling, hearts pounding in unison. He pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, a contrast to the wild passion that had consumed us just moments before.

"You're mine," he whispered, his voice a vow in the quiet aftermath.

"And you're mine," I replied, my voice full of contentment as I nestled closer to him, our bodies still intimately connected.

In that moment, we knew that this was where we belonged—in each other's arms, bound by a love that was as dangerous as it was beautiful.

I am his, and he is mine. In the end, it's him and I.

A/n - Is somebody gonna match my freak (listen to Him and I by Halsey and G-eazy)