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sukunasweetheart · 21 days

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scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna...

warnings!!! dark content, noncon breeding, dubcon, sukuna ties your hands together, baby trapping, toxic, possessive and jealous sukuna, manipulative tendencies and mentions of violence (not towards reader), oral (f!receiving)

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3.8k words

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who'd always coax you into fucking him bareback without a condom because he swears it feels better...

being so sweet, seducing you into letting him hit it raw, doing whatever it takes to put you in a good mood, get you hot and bothered so you can't deny him for long, swearing that he'd pull out, and that you'd have nothing to worry about...

but scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who never kept his word. he'd fuck you silly and cum deep into your womb, even though he promised he wouldn't. you wanted to stop him, but you were feeling too good in the moment to fight him off. when you confront him about it afterwards, he simply tells you "my bad, sweetheart. i didn't mean to, but you just felt too good..."

he gets high off the feeling of cumming inside you.

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who secretly wished he could fuck you pregnant with his seed. but you told him you didn't want a baby, which he disappoints him, though he may not show it. he wants to see your belly swell up with his child, and to suck on your sweet milk when your tits start leaking. fuck, just the thought of it had made him get hard.

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who didn't take you seriously when you broke it off with him. you could see it in his eyes sometimes, the way he seemed eerily quiet when your pregnancy tests turned out with only one line. you felt glad you'd taken those birth control pills behind his back. but you decided enough was enough. you loved him, but you just didn't want to have a child with him.

scummy ex-boyfriend sukuna who didn't even seem phased by the break up. he believed he could coax you back to him again, given with some time. you are his, and nothing will change that. when he sees you around, he shamelessly flirts with you and tries to convince you to come back to him, telling you that he misses you dearly. there are times when he almost succeeds, only because you do miss him sometimes too.

a few weeks into the break up, you truthfully, begin to feel a little sexually frustrated. you don't recall having such a high sex drive before getting with sukuna, but he seems to have permanently altered your body, the way he used to pleasure you so good...

you gather some friends and head into a club, and try to forget about him.

at the club, you re-familiarise yourself with the smell of alcohol in the air, the music that hurts your eardrums, and the crowd of people all around you, wherever you went. it's been a while since you've been here, because you had been with sukuna for over two years now.

an hour or two passes, and you've gotten yourself fairly tipsy at the bar now.

you sync yourself up with the music, but a familiar figure catches your attention from the second floor of the club, afar. it's sukuna. but he's not looking at you.

he's standing with his ex-girlfriend - the one that had gotten hysterical with you after she'd found out about your relationship with him. your mood plummets, for some reason.

you're the one that broke up with him. it shouldn't matter what he's up to after that. liar. you told me you missed me. you try to ignore him, and continue drinking yourself drunk, the edges of your vision already swimming.

sukuna's at the club, only because a friend of his snitched on you and told him that you were out here somewhere. he didn't think he'd meet yorozu, out of everyone it could've been.

"hi, ryo. i heard you'd finally broken up with that girl?" she asks sweetly, standing as close to him as possible.

sukuna gives her a deadpan stare.

"broken up? says who?"

"well, everyone. don't tell me you're pathetically clinging onto her now? that's not like you."

"i'm not you. now get lost, i'm busy."

yorozu grabs his hand, stopping him from walking away.

"wait! i just wanna tell you..."

she continues talking, but his attention has already drifted elsewhere, as his eyes pan toward the crowd downstairs. now...where are you? when he does manage to find you in the crowd downstairs, he doesn't like what he sees. that's an understatement. he hates it.

you're swaying your hips with some other bastard, making out with him on the dance floor.

"damn- you're so fuckin' hot," the stranger chuckles against the shell of your ear, your arms around his neck.

"am i really?" you respond giggling, clearly intoxicated.

"yeah, you are... why don't you come home with me?"

"hmmm? sure, why not? 'm single now, anyway," you mumble, your feet now beginning to stumble. you're starting to miss him again.

"broke up with your boyfriend, did you? poor thing."

"i'll help you feel better." the man grins and helps you walk outside of the club.

on his way out however, he bumps into someone of a large frame. he's all tatted up, and his gaze is holding a mean glare as he stares down at him. he holds out his hand to him, like he's asking for something.

"hand her over, and i won't beat you to death."

oh. he must be the ex. that was enough for the man to quietly place your body into sukuna's arms and exit the club.

tch, he's as spineless as he looks.

sukuna handles your limp body with care, your breath pungent with the smell of alcohol. he's irritated to no end right now, and a vein is bulging from his forehead, but he safely carries you to his car.

outside, the man thinks he's clear of danger, and decides he's had enough for the night. but, someone's heavy arm comes down around his shoulders suddenly.

"hey. you're the one that played it too close with sukuna's girl? how unlucky of you," a man with a scar on his lip talks nonchalantly.

he gets dragged into a nearby alleyway.

"don't take it personally. i got paid to do this."

the man shrieks as he gets beaten to a pulp, just enough so it hurts like hell, but not enough to kill him. sukuna likes to keep his word.

meanwhile... you're taken to your own home. he found the keys to your house in your purse. sukuna tucks you into your own bed, and even dresses you into your own pajamas. and then...

he just leaves.

the next morning - you don't remember a thing. you're left feeling confused, wondering how you managed to get home and how you were even sober enough to get yourself dressed. the only thing you can recall is seeing sukuna with his ex, and then making out with some random guy on the dance floor. everything else is blacked out.

you ask your friends, but they were also too busy getting wasted to know what happened to you. but you feel fine physically, so you brush the incident off.

now the only thing bothering you... sukuna hasn't contacted you again ever since you witnessed him and yorozu talking. so he must've gone back to her. that makes you feel... irritated. upset. sad, even. even though you wanted to break things off first.

you slowly start getting back to your normal daily life again, although with a heavy heart. only change is, that you can't seem to find your birth control pills, wherever you last put them. you contemplate for a moment, wondering whether you should buy a new pack, but you end up shrugging it off, knowing that you won't really need them in the meantime anyway...

you're trying to get back into what life was like before you met sukuna. falling back into bad diet habits, staring at your phone, going back and forth between unblocking and blocking sukuna's number - wondering if he's texted you again in the meantime - but of course, there is nothing new.

he may have had his toxic traits, but you knew he loved you a lot... he cooked you wonderful meals and spoiled you with gifts and knew how to make you orgasm until you couldn't speak. and he was tender with you, even though he teased you a lot.

and now, you're back to using toys to satisfy yourself... it's always like this! you start thinking about him and your hand begins to wander down - you can only hope that you'll eventually lose these feelings soon.

you decide to head out and go on a shopping spree alone, to distract yourself from your thoughts and maybe lift your spirits up.

spending a lot of money for yourself always feels nice. you're buying a lot of cute clothes, accessories and food, jumping between shop to shop. the sun sets rather quickly, and by now, you're at your final stop, mulling over whether this expensive, but beautiful bracelet and necklace set is worth buying. your impulse gets the better of you and you ask for it to be packaged for you.

you reach for your wallet to pay with your card, but someone's familiar voice rings out beside you as he approaches.

"i'll pay for the set." sukuna already has his credit card out, and is handing it to the store clerk, using a tone that makes him difficult to question.

"...sukuna?" you say quizzically, his name slipping from your lips without thinking.

the clerk scans his card, and your items are already paid for.

"what are you doing here..." you ask him, with mixed feelings running around in the pit of your stomach.

"missed me?" he asks with a smirk, very naturally taking your multiple shopping bags from your hand. "i just happened to be in the area."

you're not sure if you believe him. just when you're about to ask him something again, he guides you out of the store with his hand on your shoulder.

"i thought you got back with your ex," you say, taking your bags back from his hand. "i'm sure she'll be upset if she sees you here with me."

"what? where did you get that nonsense from?" he seems genuinely confused.

"i saw you at the club, by coincidence. you were talking with her."

oh... he didn't realise you'd noticed him back there.

"oh, sweetheart... that was a coincidence. i wasn't planning on meeting her. did you really believe that i'd get back with that woman?"

you shouldn't be feeling relieved to such an extent... but your shoulders loosen up after hearing that.

"well... you stopped contacting me after i last saw you with her. of course i'd start believing it."

"oh? i thought you had my number blocked. were you anticipating my texts? you missed me, after all." sukuna leans in closer to you, smiling cockily.

you should have just kept your mouth shut...

"i'll take you home. you have a lot of luggage, no?" sukuna offers, taking your bags back from your hand.

you bite the inside of your cheek. you know you're supposed to decline here. but you let your feelings get the best of you... and end up letting him lead you to his car.

he was supposed to just quickly drop you off home.

"you have a lot of stuff. i'll help you carry it home," sukuna gave his excuse, with something more sly hiding in his eyes. you know exactly what he wants. but when he insists so strongly, you can't deny him. like the fool you are.

you unlock your door and he comes inside to put your bags down on the floor at the entrance. and as you had expected, he doesn't leave right away. instead, he looks down at you with a coy smile, while you return the gaze with a more standoffish one. the tension feels thick and heavy as neither of you speak for a moment.

"well? i'm sure you didn't let me in without knowing my intentions..." sukuna moves forward and closer to you, hands very naturally finding their way to your waist.

he leans down slowly and offers you a brief kiss, a very light and short one, like he's testing the waters. he scans your face for your response. your lips feel all tingly. and all he sees is that you're not pushing him away.

"we shouldn't..." you whisper, but your resolve is too weak. you can't tell him to go away, much less kick him out of your home.

"i know."

in truth, he doesn't really. why should he be separate from you? you belong to him. he pulls you in for a deeper kiss. and you just let it happen.

and, lord, he smells and tastes divine. there's a reason why you always forgave him despite his scummy behaviour when it came to using protection. though you ended up breaking him off, you wonder if it'll be different if you give him another chance.

he wastes no time in lifting you into his arms like you weigh nothing, and heads off to your bedroom, before you can change your mind. you comply, holding onto his strong embrace weakly, having missed this kind of treatment.

when you're laid onto your own bed, sukuna smirks again as he cages you between his arms.

"you're being so obedient. must've regretted breaking up with me-?"

pulling him in with a hand to the back of his neck, you shut him up with another demanding kiss, not letting him speak for long. sukuna groans as you slip your tongue into him, initiating something messier than what the both of you were doing before.

he's quick to unzip your skirt and side it off, along with your panties. in desperation, he doesn't take the time to fully get you naked and instead, pushes your shirt and bra up to fondle your jutting breasts. sukuna then peels his own jacket and shirt off.

"spread your legs for me, sweetheart. i'll spoil you tonight."

you part your legs slowly - and he sees that you're already glistening with slick. bringing his face down, he aims straight for your sensitive clit, wrapping his lips around it entirely. your back arches as you gasp, the warm and wet feeling being so arousing like nothing else in this world.

you feel the tip of his tongue flicker up and down your clitoris in a mesmerising rhythm - knowing exactly what you want, and need to reach your orgasm. and the way he sucks on you with the correct amount of pressure, while making the lewdest noises, forcing your hips to stutter uncontrollably against his mouth, with the way it feels so mind numbing, is just too much in its own way.

you let your erotic moans ring out, because you know he loves it when you show him how good you're feeling - and your hands can't help but hold onto his hair from the intense pleasure, which he never seem to flinch from.

the first orgasm hits you like a truck, with the way you're left breathless and gasping for air as your legs reflexively try to close up - sukuna has to hold them apart with his strong grip as he continues tonguing you even as you're cumming, your cunt thrumming against his lips.

"o-ooh- fuck-! sukuna!" you plead, your blank gaze meeting the ceiling with half-lidded eyes, hips jolting without restraint.

when he does eventually show mercy and remove his mouth from your poor aching clit, you're already on the brink of sobbing, your legs down to your toes feeling all prickly from the overstimulation. your mind is in a haze.

so much so, that you didn't realise that he had bound your wrists to the bed frame until he was already done with it.

"wha- sukuna...? why're you tying me up-?" you question, still a little out of it from your last orgasm.

"shh, love. it's not like this is the first time...relax," sukuna comforts you, caressing your face. you can't help the small uneasiness from growing in your stomach. he suddenly gives your clit a light slap. it startles you a bit, and you gasp.

"you're so pretty. do you know that?"

you see your own reflection in his ringed eyes. your heart races, and you don't know if it's because you're flustered or terrified.

"i just wanna..."

his cock aches in his pants.

he never finishes his sentence. instead, he just offers you a soft, yet sloppy kiss.

sukuna frees his erection, and sighs in relief. it's all messy and leaky with precum. he lines it up against your wet and puckering cunt. you won't deny that you want it...

"sukuna... condom..." you remind him gently, getting slightly nervous from the way he's rubbing his tip up and down your slit.

"... 'm sorry sweetheart. i don't think i can do that."

he pushes his hips in one go, and you're left gasping from the sudden intrusion. you're immediately pushed into a mating press.

sukuna groans from how he immediately feels your wet walls sucking him in, your slick making his cock glisten as he thrusts in and out. he's missed this so, so much.

"fuck- sukuna! you can't- oh my g-god..." your hands tug at your bindings as you try and resist your moans from coming out of your throat, but the way his dick satisfies your cunt is otherworldly, his tip kissing your cervix, over and over again.

"that's it, baby... just enjoy yourself," he urges you on, getting breathless from his own fast pace, cock pulsating inside of you in excitement. god, you always drive him crazy.

still, in the back of your mind you still have a sliver of trust in this man. foolishly so. surely he'll pull out at the last second. surely he won't cum inside you in this situation. it's been a while since you stopped being on the pill.

your bed creaks from how roughly sukuna pounds your pussy, all while groaning with such shamelessness, only caring about the pleasure that is found from the warmth and wetness of your puckering hole.

"fuuck... fuck! to think you were gonna let some other bastard do this to you..." he growls under his breath, brows furrowing. you don't hear him. he remembers his original motive for all of this. to remind you who you truly belonged to.

"ooh-! sukuna! you're being too rough..." you whine, feeling the pressure of an incoming orgasm already building in your abdomen.

he only grips your hips harder, looking down at you with a toothy smile. his dick aches so badly. he's endured through so much patience just for this moment.

your mind goes blank as you forget about the fact that he's not wearing a condom, drool spilling out the side of your mouth from the pleasure you feel as his girthy dick drills in and out of you, a squelching noise happening everytime he sinks himself in. there's the feeling of his heavy balls slapping against your ass. and also the friction from his pants, that he hasn't bothered to fully take off. the juices from your cunt has dampened them, but sukuna couldn't care less right now.

"sweetheart... my love... take- taking me s-so well..." sukuna groans, panting and words slurred. despite the deeply affectionate words, his hips move like an animal. you can't do anything but moan and cry.

sukuna feels himself getting high again. there's just something about you... god, he's so pussydrunk he can't even think properly. only the thought of breeding you is on his mind. make you his, completely. to see your belly get bigger from his seed... a powerful thrum goes to his cock and he shudders again.

he has to make it take, this time.

"i'm gonna cum," he tells you breathlessly, knowing you won't be able to stop him, this time around.

"sukuna!... wait," you protest, weakly tugging at your binds again, but you can't say anything more than that, as his lips come down onto yours, silencing you effectively. he tongue kisses you roughly, desperate and messy as you can feel his laboured breaths on you.

and the final thrust that he gives, where he pushes his dick in so deeply, tip meeting your cervix, sends you into another trembling orgasm. sukuna groans deeply against your mouth as he cums, hips stuttering against yours, eyes shut tightly as he savours you completely. you take your lips off of his, and try to say, "stop...! no- pull out," but he stops you with another kiss.

you sob, because it's over. but you're also sobbing because it feels so good.

sukuna's deep kiss trails down to the crook of your neck.

"you can't tell me to pull out... when your cunt is... seducing my cock like this..." he shivers between phrases, mumbling against your neck, mind all hazy from the way you pulse around him from your orgasm, milking his dick as spurt after spurt of his seed shoots straight into your womb.

you can't even say anything back to him - you're coming off your high as he empties his balls into you, letting out more than usual. you're done for.

"i hate you," you sob.

"i know you don't really mean that. you can't live without me," sukuna tells you, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead afterwards.

"and the same applies to me. i'll never let anyone else have you."

he begins to litter kisses down again, until he reaches your chest, while his cock is still inside you. his soft lips caress your tits, and then he begins to lather his tongue around your stiffened nipples, making you feel good again, even through the tears.

the night is far from over.

sukuna becomes much more gentle and soft after the first time, opting for slower but deeper thrusts this time around, adding plenty of little kisses in between as well, "loving" you with everything he has. you have no choice but to accept all of him, as he cums inside of you over and over again.

his cock is in its own haven, being trapped in your gummy walls without rest. and at some point, sukuna's even released your wrists, and now you're willingly making love to him with your arms around his neck, coping with the thought that resisting doesn't even matter anymore - it's already too late, and you're tired of trying to fight back.

you can't count how many times he's dumped his load into you, how many times he's said "i can't get enough of you," how many times you've kissed him back when he kisses you.

and when he finally does eventually pull out, his semen oozes out of you in a disgusting amount. you're spent, and completely exhausted. you can't help your heavy eyelids from closing up, and the last thing you hear is his soft voice.

"goodnight, sweetheart. i'll take care of everything, from now on. i promise."

he holds you so closely and lovingly that you believe him.

Masterlist

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna #and then he becomes the best perfect husband that kisses the ground you walk so you end up forgetting that he literally babytrapped you <3 #tw dark content #tw dubcon #tw non con #tw baby trapping

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barbieaemond · 3 months

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Religion

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: mild angst, misogyny, banter, pregnancy, childbirth, oral sex, p in v, fingering, orgasm denial, dry humping, overstimulation, brief lactation kink, breeding kink, manipulation (to get some), some good ol' tying up, slandering of the Gods lol

Author's note: this is the third and final part following And I dream of a grave and A curse for a curse but can be read as a standalone. Just keep in mind that Aemond did not cheat on his wife while in Harrenhal. He used Alys only for her visions.

Word count: 13k. Ye have to suffer for your smut darlin'

MASTERLIST | English is not my first language.

taglist: @multyfangirl @ladystarksneedle @arcielee @darylandbethfanforever9 @zaldritzosrose @alphard-hydraes-blog

Her mother had come to King’s Landing three days after she gave birth. Peering through the door, the Princess didn’t know if the woman was more surprised to finally see a baby safely tucked between her daughter’s arms or to witness that she was still breathing. She had chosen to believe both.

Since she was a little girl, she had been instructed in what was coming, for her and all the girls like her: how to serve men, how to serve the Realm. She knew pregnancy could be a time of great distress, physical and otherwise, and for her, it turned out to be nothing more than that.

She spent the first moons plagued by sickness, glaring at the Maesters who told her that morning sickness was perfectly normal. It would've been, if only it had lasted the hours the sun was at its highest. Instead, she couldn’t keep down her breakfast, just like her lunch, or dinner. She had lost weight, she couldn’t stand any kind of smell with the risk of rushing to her pot and empty her stomach.

Then, on one fine morning, while she was walking the gardens with two of her maids, she had suddenly bent over, hissing with pain while clutching her maid’s arm, dreading the trickle running down her thighs.

The Maesters said occasional bleedings might happen, that she only needed to rest and take some tonic to strenghten her body. But that day signaled the end of her peace and the beginning of her confinement.

Because clearly, at the first sign of something going wrong, slipping out of his control, Aemond would panic, albeit showing none of it, standing as tall and stoic as ever and somehow more than he’d ever done now that the Conqueror’s Crown weighted on his head. But she knew better. She knew how to look through all his walls. She knew he was scared—for her, for the baby, for his sister, for his whole family. It was simply too much for a single person to carry all of that on their shoulders. And it was precisely for that reason that she didn’t object to any of his orders. After all, she couldn’t. He was the King now, even if he didn’t choose to style himself as such.

Thus, her chambers became her prison.

Cobwebs didn’t have time to grow because she was quick enough to point them out to the servants. She was aware of the slight drop in the stone tiles just behind the terrace, as of the strategic point where to linger to gain some cool breeze from the sea. She knew the baby liked to sleep upside down in the early afternoon, occasionally kicking hard as he, or she, settled comfortably in her womb.

Aemond had picked some books for her, mostly about history, having her yawning at the third page. She had tried needle work, putting all her good will into it for the sake of doing something, and she had deliberately chosen to believe she was undeniably good at it. But that was a very generous lie.

“What is that supposed to be exactly?” Aemond asked one day, peeking over her shoulder as he reached her on the terrace.

She didn’t look up, keeping her eyes fixed on her embroidery tambour, working the needle in and out. “Isn’t it obvious?”

He leaned down until she felt the long silver strands tickling her head and even without turning, she could feel him grimacing. “A bird?”

At that, she had raised her head, reading all the disbelief on his face. “It is a dragon. For the cradle.”

Aemond had simply furrowed his brow, unable for the life of him to consider what he saw as something even remotely resembling a dragon. But he thought better than to anger his pregnant wife, given her late sour spirit, but especially in light of how fiercely she had started to stick the needle in, likely picturing to stick it into him instead. He had built the most fake pleasant smile he could master and said “Very well. Excellent work, my love.”

“Thank you, husband.”

The trouble was that, as time went by, she only became sourer. She grew more and more uncomfortable, too tight in her own skin. Her back hurt, her breasts hurt, and she was starting to believe she was carrying a real dragon, with fangs and all; she had no other explanation for how hot she constantly felt, forced to lie in a thin white chemise all the time, despite the winds carrying the winter.

But maybe there was another reason why her spirits were so low and sour. She had come to learn that pregnancy affected every aspect of her life, including the most pleasant one.

She would grow wet for a kiss. She would close her legs and rub them together upon seeing him rise from the bathtub. She would moan into his mouth if he so much as grazed her nipples with his knuckles. But as she grew bigger and bigger, along with the discomfort, kisses and some intimate brushing were all she would get from him. Aemond had grown distant, not only with his presence, due to all the duties he had to fulfill wearing the Crown, but even when he was there, in their chambers, sleeping next to her, she felt him leagues and leagues away.

“Pregnancy is a very hard time for a woman.” The Dowager Queen had said to her “It is overwhelming to think that you are never alone and yet...somehow you are.”

She’d never understood what her good mother meant until she was confined to her chambers, alone with her thoughts and her fears. She didn’t expect Aemond to do something, this was women’s business. And she knew his reluctance to lie with her rested solely on concern and love for her.

No matter how much he craved to take her, he had decided to put his husband’s rights away for the delicate final moons until the baby was born. He still felt guilty, for Harrenhal, for the witch, for forsaking her only to get drunk on visions and prophecies. Yet, those visions turned out to be true. He had shut that voice in his head and tried to make amends. But they didn’t have the time to mend themselves together, to knit all the distrust and suspicions into something good; the baby was coming, and it seemed he or she did nothing but grow them more apart.

He saw how tired she was, how some days she couldn’t even get out of bed. And how useless he felt when he would catch her crying, like that night when he found her all alone on the terrace at the hour of the owl.

She was sitting on her chaise filled with cushions when Aemond walked around her. Given the state of his white shirt and hair, he had likely just awakened and hadn’t found her beside him.

“What are you doing out here? You will catch a cold.”

“I cannot sleep.” she had kept her eyes far, on the Black Water Bay, far from him. But he saw them anyway, her reddened eyes.

“You cannot stay here in your condition.” He said almost tiredly, but when she didn’t even blink at his words, he called her name, with the tone he used in the Throne Room.

“Aemond, please.” She whispered, turning her head. “I—” she bit her tongue, unwilling to put this on him, but she knew he wouldn’t let go until she was safely back in bed. So, she said “I don’t want to hear her.”

It took him less than a moment to understand what she meant. Helaena. Helaena who lost a child, who saw her flesh and blood horribly murdered before her eyes. Helaena who couldn’t stop wailing in the dead of night.

She had looked at him, seeing that torn thing, broken and raw like a split wound; shame and guilt and rage all at once. Then, he lowered himself onto his knees until he took her cold hands and squeezed them tight. His mouth opened, but she was faster. “Don’t say it.”

You cannot keep such a promise, you cannot keep us safe. No matter how many times you say it. But she wouldn’t take that solace away from him, not that plainly. The more he said it, the more he seemed to believe it. So be it.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked, and there was a beautiful, heartbreaking desperation in his hushed voice. “Tell me what to do.”

She had built a convincing smile, running her hand through his loose hair and pushing some strands back. “Go back to sleep. I’m fine.”

Her spirits during the day would slightly improve. And between the Council and some hearings in the Throne Room, he always saved some time to go visit her in their chambers. She didn’t seem to enjoy being watched like a toddler, but deep down she cherished his concern. She cherished the way his hands would gently hold her own, or caress her hair, her belly. She found it hard to believe those hands could bestow such reverence and violence at the same time. And even in his absence, he managed to ensure she always had anything she needed. Even blackberries in early autumn.

“Myra, where have you been?” She asked in a late afternoon, when one of her most loyal maids entered her chambers after disappearing for the whole day.

The young girl had an awful look. She seemed exhausted, as if she had walked the entirety of Flea Bottom, twice. “Apologies, my Princess. It took me quite a while to find blackberries.”

“Seven Hells, it is only a craving. You did not have to go all the way through King’s Landing to find me blackberries.”

"No, I-I ought to.”

The Princess paused, frowning at the young girl. “Did someone else tell you that you ought to?”

“Well…yes…” the maid said, sinking her gaze to the floor “The King—uhm Prince Regent.”

She sighed deeply, and with heavy steps, she walked towards the terrace; her maid was immediately at her side to help her. “What did he tell you?” the Princess asked as they reached the chair outside.

The girl waited for her to sit, slowly and awkwardly given her big belly; then, a little timidly, she said “He…ordered me to go look for blackberries and not to…bother coming back if I didn’t find them.”

The Princess rolled her eyes in quite an unlady-like manner, “How in the name of Seven did he know about it?” She asked, grimacing as she desperately tried to find a comfortable position. “I have barely seen him this morning.”

The young maid helped her, fixing some cushions behind her back and whispered “The White Cloak at the door…I suspect he reports everything to his Grace.”

The notion didn’t seem to strike her that much, or maybe she was too tired, too uncomfortable and too hot to comment on the matter, or even scoff at it.

She grabbed a fan from her maid’s hands and unceremoniously shook her shoes off, placing her swollen feet on the cool tiles. Closing her eyes, she basked in that small relief; the floor was cold, the sun was about to set, and the baby was sleeping.

According to the Maesters, her time was close. She was eager to meet this little person but in truth, she just wanted it to end. She hated having no control over her body, her spirits, her marriage. She missed being a wife and being treated as such, not just as the mother of his child. She had come to think that, deep down, any woman felt that way, but they were forced to hide everything behind a joyful smile while sinking to their knees to thank the Mother. Wasn’t that the sole purpose of any girl in the world? To bleed on a birthing bed? Wasn’t that the way men measured women’s value?

She swallowed hard as the question spun in her head. Am I finally worthy of you, Aemond?

She wouldn’t dare ask him.

“What is it? Are you unwell?”

She was too lost in her thoughts to even hear his footsteps on the terrace. As her gaze flew up, she read the deep concern on his face, all lumped in the steep furrow between his eyebrows. He must’ve seen her grimacing, thinking she was in some pain. She was, but she was too much of a coward to tell him.

She resumed her fanning, averting her gaze and stretching her legs out further on the floor. “I feel like I’m boiling.”

“Yes, I can see that.” He deadpanned, raking his eye over her disheveled state; sprawled on that chair with her legs slightly open, her white chemise all crumpled and unbuttoned, and a bead of sweat on the forehead, in the crevice of her swollen breasts. He thought the times when a mere look at this woman would make him hard were gone once the novelty of having a wife, someone rightly and thoroughly his, had dissipated. He was wrong.

“I’m well aware of my lack of decency.” She replied, seeing how he was staring, the little inquiring curve in his eyebrow. “I’m afraid I care very little about decency at this moment. Blame it on your son.”

His lips curled up, watching her gather her loose hair with one hand while she kept fanning herself quickly with the other.

“Are you still inclined to believe for certain that it’s a boy?”

“I know it’s a boy. Only men can be this insufferable.”

That little smile on his lips lingered, deepened, and then he moved, going to stand behind her. “Let me.” He said, and took her hair between his hands. She couldn’t see what he was doing but got the gist as she felt his deft fingers moving and her neck free to get some air. When he walked around the chaise to sit beside her, she saw that his hair was loose. He had tied her hair with the black lace he always wore to prevent the silver strands from ending up in front of his eye.

She loved to see him like this: hair loose, eyepatch lost somewhere in a drawer, sitting next to her, even without saying a word. The sapphire seemed to match his eye, glowing a soft violet under the setting sun. She felt that familiar lump in her throat, as she stared at him, a restless thing flowing through her whole body, demanding to be released only to be trapped under her teeth, biting down her lower lip, starved and yearning.

“A little bird told me you put a hound on my trail.” she said at one point, shutting her little fan.

Aemond didn’t look surprised to acknowledge that she knew. He had actually ventured with himself about how long it would have taken her to realise he was spying on her every move.

“You are well aware of my duties now.” He said, turning his head to look at her. But not quite. His eye seemed to linger everywhere at once, fleeting, snatching a look here and there, her legs, her sweated neck, her belly…his own testament, as if she wasn’t one already.

You left your mark on her just as she did on you. Those were Alys’ words, at which he had ugly sneered. And she had laughed at the sight, eerily, as someone who owned the truth. I’m your spoil of war and yet, you speak to me ten paces away. What are you afraid of, Kinslayer? That your skin would burn like brimstone if you touched another woman?

“Besides,” he resumes “any lady would be flattered by her husband’s genuine concern.”

“You could flatter me in different ways.” was her prompt answer and she moved incredibly fast, given her impediment, getting close to him until she filled his nostrils. She smelled different since she was pregnant. A thick smell, musky. She tasted differently. Sweeter and somehow sourer. He swallowed at the mere memory. “We have talked about this.”

“And I’ve talked to the Maesters.”

His head spun around, forcing her to stifle a smile at his ever strictly reserved nature.

“They said there’s nothing wrong, or remotely dangerous, if we…engage in our conjugal duties.”

He tried to ignore her hand, her fingers traveling up his arm like a spider’s legs. “Did you need the Maesters to learn that?”

“No, but you do. You hang on their lips…I wish you hung on mine.”

Aemond heard her voice dropping a tone, and dropped his chin down, looking at her hand roving on his chest, shamelessly slipping beneath his dark green doublet, skin to skin. She glided on his planes slowly, making sure to trap one of his nipples in the little hollow between her index and middle.

“I don’t need them to know about my private matters.” He said mindlessly, trying to hold a grip on his thoughts.

“Seven Hells. It baffles me to witness how prudish you desperately want to appear while I perfectly know how debauched you really are, to the bone.”

“My debauchery is confined to these four walls.”

“Oh, is it? What about that time on our way to the Grand Sept?” She tilted her head, so she was talking almost in his ear. “Do you remember?”

Her hand on his chest was burning, or was it his own skin? His own flesh simmering wherever she touched him.

“Don’t do that.” She whispered when she saw his long legs cross. “Let me see. You have condemned me to do nothing else.”

His eye chased her hand as she grabbed his knee and pushed to uncross his legs, so that she could see, the outline of his cock through the breeches, see how he ached for her. “Do you remember what you did in the wheelhouse?” She asked again, looking at him; the sapphire was the only thing flashing violet now. His eye was pitch black.

“You put your hand beneath my gowns…” she said and her hand slid up against his thigh “you grabbed me, harshly.” And she did the same, forcing his mouth open and a shallow breath out of his throat. “And you grinned…because my garments were soaked.” he closed his eye for a moment, perhaps recalling, or maybe because her hand was moving, palming all his length through the breeches.

“And then you slipped your fingers underneath…” and again, she did just so, unbuckling his belt and sinking her hand in. He opened his eye, and basked in what he saw: that sort of silent, desperate plea in the little wrinkle between her eyebrows, in her heaving chest, in the way she was rubbing her legs together.

Thus, just when she was about to grab him, he grabbed her wrist instead and crashed his mouth against hers with a low growling sound. She could do nothing but moan, giving him open room to slip his tongue in and taste every corner, driving his body closer and closer, but not too much as to crush her.

She, on the other hand, felt free, finally, to roam, to rummage. Her hands grabbed and pulled everywhere, at his doublet, the collar, the buttons, the thin white shirt underneath it all, until everything was loose, and she was free to touch him, all the while making the sweetest wanton sounds, close to desperate whines. “Please, Aemond…” she begged freely, holding his face “just this once…please…”

He shushed her with another harsh kiss and with a free hand, he clutched her white nightgown into his fist, pulling up, enough to stick his arm between her legs. She spread them for him, panting with anticipation, and stopped breathing altogether when he cupped her core with the large palm of his hand. Aemond trapped her lower lip with his teeth, biting softly upon feeling how wet she was, dripping on his fingers, so much that he wished to fall on his knees and wipe it clean with his tongue.

“Please…” she breathed, barely rocking her hips to urge him to touch her.

“Hush.” he said, and curled his fingers, brushing his fingertips against her centre, gaining a delicious wince from her. “Tell me of the wheelhouse.”

She smiled breathlessly, her eyes hungry and heavy, full of lust. “It was the first time I wore green.” she started to tell. “We were still betrothed. I wanted to impress you.”

“Hmm. You certainly did.” He remarked, watching her closely while rubbing his index pad against her entrance, teasingly, making her squirm. “Go on.”

She felt like burning, her face hot for the sun, the baby, the ache in her lower belly, stirring and coiling. “You told the White Cloak to take another round…” she said, breathing with her mouth open. “You grabbed my waist and forced me on your lap.”

“And you pushed me away. Twice.” he’d laughed, flashing a grin that made her willing to shove him away, to pull him closer. “What a farse you put on.” he continued, leaving a chaste kiss on her neck that resulted in her writhing some more, pushing her pelvis against his hand. “I had to cover your mouth for your mewling. You were so fucking loud.”

It was then that he finally granted her some mercy, slipping one finger inside her drenched lips, spilling a long gasp from her.

“No. Not quite.” He observed cruelly and slid another finger, this time gaining a proper loud moan. “That’s more like it.”

His two fingers started to pump slowly, and yet she was making the lewdest sounds he’d ever spilled from her, arching her back as far as she could, scrunching her face almost in pain and pulling at his collar, twisting, as if he were torturing her instead of giving her pleasure. She made his cock stir painfully, his teeth grind for the ache, for the fact that she was coating his whole hand. “Easy now…” he warned her, his tone all husky. “You don’t want to come already, do you? ‘Tis the only thing you’ll get from me, sweetling…you better make it last.”

She whined in annoyance, forcing another grin on his ruthless lips, and with that same ruthlessness, he slowed his ministrations, only to cup one of her breasts with his free hand, squeezing softly until the thin, silky fabric slipped down, revealing her pink, swollen nipple. “I must say…I’m relieved you will summon a wet nurse…so these will be all mine.”

She had to stifle a breathless laugh at that. “Being jealous of your child is a bit too much, even for you…”

“Oh, my love” he crooned, freeing the other breast “I am jealous of the clothes on your skin.”

Wasting no time, he wrapped his lips around her nipple, causing her to arch against him once more, one hand flying down his shoulder, fisting his doublet, twisting it as he swirled his tongue and hummed with delight dripping from his tone, as if he were tasting honey, and the sweetest ever made.

His fingers resumed their frantic rhythm, sinking deep inside and stretching, hitting that special spot that made her sight go black, reduced to a mess of sweat coating every inch of her skin and a string of moans growing hoarse and high-pitched.

“Are you close? Hmm?” he rasped “How about another? Can you take another for me?”

He slipped a third finger in, causing her to wince and cling to his shoulders with her mouth open in a silent scream. “Good girl.” He praised at the sight. He wished he could savor it for a little longer, he wished to keep doing that again and again, until the sun went down and rose again, until there was nothing but ruin around them.

But she was so close now, he could feel it in her tensed arms around his shoulders, in her clenching walls around his hand, and quite frankly, the ache in his breeches was unbearable, twitching at every moan and squelching sound of his fingers inside her flesh.

She came loudly, curling her ankles on the ground and writhing in his hold as if in a delirium. He kept her still, his hand buried inside her, feeling the quick pulsing that rivaled the one in her heart. And he watched her, gasping for air and throwing her head back, utterly spent, hair all sticked to her forehead. In his eye she had never looked this beautiful.

He pulled his fingers out, making her wince slightly, and brought them to her mouth, smearing her spent desire on her own lips, like the final touch to a painting. And then he kissed her, humming at her bittersweet taste. He held her face gently, grabbing her jaw and angling her head to taste her better, eliciting a blissful sigh from the back of her throat that made his hardness throb. As if she had felt that, her hand had slipped between them with purpose, sinking past all his layers and taking hold of him.

She rejoiced in the little whimper he gave her, and started to work her hand up and down, making it impossible for him to kiss her any further, if not for a sloppy and panting mess of spit and teeth.

Given the unbearable pressure building past his navel, he knew he wouldn’t last long. And she knew that too. But she didn’t want to have him this way. Awkwardly, she stood up and spread his legs to make herself some room, but as soon as Aemond, despite the lack of blood in his mind, caught her intentions, he stopped her, grabbing her arms firmly.

“No…” he croaked. “Not on your knees.”

She couldn’t help the little surprise on her face. Aemond had never been this considerate, especially in bed. He could be gentle in his own way, subtly. Little hidden things in the way he would run his fingers through her hair once she had reached her peak, the way he would regain air once he’d spilled inside her, breathing into her neck and running his lips lazily against her skin. But most of the times, he was very diligent, all focused in giving her and himself the pleasure they both craved; he was somehow harsh, ruthless, a mirror of who he was outside the bedroom, possessed by some kind of urgency that would break her in the most beautiful and cruel way and put her back together at once.

But then again, she imagined the promise of his heir living inside her was affecting even one of the most ruthless of men.

She sat down again and watched him stand up, his breath labored and open-mouthed as he looked down at her, working the few laces of his breeches still tied. She didn’t need an invitation, an order, a mere tilt of his chin to sit upright and put her hands alongside his snatched waist.

She looked up, and he found himself swallowing hard, cursing silently at the sight of her looking straight into his eye with his cock a breath away from her, all hard and glistening on the tip. Shamefully, he thought that would have done it for him.

A coarse grunt left his lips as soon as she wrapped her mouth around it, teasingly swirling her tongue on the slit without ever averting her gaze from him. He hissed painfully when her lips started to travel along his length, trying with all his might to hold back and not spill into her mouth so soon.

She, on the other hand, seemed eager to watch him come undone, just as he had done to her a few moments earlier. She started to suck him eagerly, like a starved creature, because on all those nights and days when he had taken her apart, learning every inch of her and how to bend it to his will, she had done just the same.

She knew how to make him wince and moan openly, while on her knees on their bedroom floor or on a fucking terrace during a late afternoon, with likely anyone to walk on them at any moment. With the Gods watching.

She didn't care. The Gods didn't care for them anyway. Let them see to whom she fell to her knees.

He couldn’t stop looking, how pretty she was like this, swallowing him whole, up to the hilt, hitting her throat with a gagging sound. So lecherous, so holy.

He was so close he had to bite his lip to restrain himself, letting out a string of curses until he felt the pressure growing stronger, and then, he thought, he might as well have it his way.

“Stop…” he croaked, grabbing her cheek but delicately, slipping out of her mouth and running his thumb over her sore jaw. She closed her slicked mouth, a drop of spit running down her chin and she looked at him, with such devotion he thought he had nothing to envy the Gods.

“Let me…” he pleaded, wiping her chin clean with his finger. “Let me fuck your mouth, sweetling. Would you?”

A question that needed no answer. Indeed, he wasted no time and grabbed the back of her head, tilting it slightly up for a better angle. He sheathed himself all the way in, gasping deeply at feeling the hot walls of her mouth, her cheeks hollowing.

His fingers curled into her hair, but never in a hurtful way, enough to keep her still as he started to move his hips against her face back and forth, his open mouth quivering as the pleasure began to build where it left off.

“Fuck—” he cursed once, and then twice, fucking her mouth faster to chase his peak, pulling ever so slightly at her scalp until he went still altogether, pushed his waist hard against her, and grunted loudly, in a pretty uncharacteristic way, as his cock twitched and spilled down her throat until the last drop.

Panting harshly, he pulled himself out and watched her close her mouth, eyes fixed on him, working her cheeks and making no mystery of the white essence on her tongue before swallowing it, thoroughly.

Aemond let himself fall on that chaise and she watched, she drank that sight: his hair all disheveled and damp with sweat, a shade of pink on his cutting cheekbones as he slowly pulled himself together, breathing through his open mouth while buckling his belt and breeches.

“I think I’m going to take a bath.” She said at one point, clumsily standing up. He had mumbled something in return, still caught in the throes of what they had done, but before she got back inside, she turned and said “Oh, just so you know…all of this was a ploy.”

She smiled cunningly at his frowning. “I never had any cravings. And I knew about the White Cloak at the door since the first day you put him there. You are not as subtle as you think you are, my love.”

A man of few words, but loud actions.

Her pains came during a peaceful afternoon.

In haste, nursemaids began their frantic rounds in and out of the Princess’ rooms like soldiers, carrying hot water and boiled rags. The Dowager Queen abandoned her perch beside Queen Helaena, or what was left of her, and went to assist the Princess. Having borne four children, she had quite a bit of advice to dispense, things she had learned on her own skin, things that any Master would never have told her because oblivious and convinced they knew what happened to a woman's body at such a delicate time based on how deep they had buried their nose in an old dusty tome.

Alicent helped the Princess rise from the bed, clutched her arm firmly and helped her walk. She said it was vital to walk, that it would ease her pain and help the baby come sooner. She told her to squat when the pain hit. She rubbed her back and wiped the sweat off her face as if she were her own daughter. It felt like that. Even though the Princess seemed to face it all with a stiff lip, Alicent could see that she was scared and in terrible pain, that she probably wished for her mother to be there. She had wished the same, no matter how many times she had faced it.

“Your Grace?” The Princess asked after another wave of pain had come and gone.

“Yes, child?”

“Do you think your son would forgive me If I said this one is both the first and the last?”

The Queen had smiled at that. “If the Gods bless you with more children, it will be easier, I can assure you. The first time is always rough. But it shouldn’t be long now.”

Well, her good mother turned out to be wrong. Because the pain plagued her for a full night, giving her no peace. At the hour of the nightingale, the nursemaids forced her to bed, and she gladly went. She was exhausted, she could no longer walk without hissing at every step, and by that time she was so used to the pain she no longer whined or anything, only scrunched her face and ground her teeth.

The servants stripped her bare and replaced her sweat-soaked nightgown with a fresh one. They dabbed her face with a wet cloth, but she could barely register anything, floating into unconsciousness only to be brought back to the present as another pain choked her breath.

“Perhaps some Milk of the Poppy?” One of the nurses said at one point.

“No.” the Maester said. “She may need to start pushing any moment now. We need her vigil.”

Her heavy-lidded eyes opened, wandering helplessly around the room. Useless research, for she knew he wouldn’t be there. She didn’t expect him to be. The birthing bed was no place for men, save for the Maesters, although she was starting to doubt their real usefulness when all they could do was pull her nightgown up, take a close look and shake their heads. They might as well let Aemond be there.

She imagined he must’ve been waiting outside, or in the Council, and yet she ached to see him. She closed her eyes and searched for him in her mind, clutching the sheets in her fist as if she could clutch his hand instead. And then she felt someone’s hand closing around her own, loosening her grip. Alicent, smiling down at her, and holding her hand tight.

It was holding her good mother’s hand that, at the first light of dawn, she gave birth to her child. A boy, healthy and all screeching as soon as he was out of her womb, clad in blood and grease.

Aemond had decided to name the child Aenar, if it was a boy, after the first Targaryen Lord, and she couldn’t quite believe her eyes or force her tears back when he was finally admitted to their chambers and took their son in his arms for the first time.

Alicent was beaming at the sight, squeezing his arm. “Congratulations, my son.”

But Aemond didn’t seem to even register her mother’s words, or presence, utterly enraptured by his little creature. He cast a look at his wife, a secret little look that told her how proud he was of her, how relieving it was for both to have come this far after all that happened, to have this little thing, this little ounce of peace amidst all the chaos of war.

What she didn’t know at that time was that Aenar was not exactly a peaceful child.

She had believed there had finally come the time when she could be herself again. But from the earliest days, Aenar proved not to be an easy child to deal with. The newborn cried and cried for hours, plagued by belly aches, and seemingly able to calm down only when in his mother’s arms. They had obviously called on a wet nurse; highborn ladies did not feed their children themselves, let alone a Princess. But Aenar had categorically refused to latch onto his wet nurse’s breasts. Alicent had proposed to summon another one, but as they dawdled and wavered, the Princess felt her heart break into pieces each time she held her little baby in her arms, all red in the face, hungry and in pain, turning his head towards her cleavage, desperate for her milk. Thus, she had put aside ceremonial court and all of that and chose to feed him herself.

But it was a strenuous task. The Maesters had warned her it would be tiring, sleep depriving, but she really had no choice. She had to do it every three hours, sometimes less, because being latched onto her breast seemed the only thing that would prevent the baby from screaming at the top of his lungs all day long. The nursemaid had recommended fennel and chamomile for belly aches. And, instantly, Aemond had ordered an astounding amount of both to be delivered to the Red Keep’s kitchens.

Queen Alicent taught her to hold the baby on his stomach, to rock him, but not too fast. They told her to take several breaks during breastfeeding, to make the baby belch often and prevent air from his belly. In the first week after Aenar was born, her mind was all but a vessel of do this, do that. No, not this way. Don’t ever wake the baby when he’s sleeping. Try to sleep when he does. Don’t eat spicy dishes.

In the midst of all of this, Aemond turned more and more suffocating in all his well-hidden, self-consuming concern. A handful of white cloaks, the most trusted by Ser Criston, were constantly guarding the door, day and night. He had a secret passageway that led to his rooms walled up, and she could swear he slept with his dagger beneath the pillow. Evidently not at peace with such extreme measures, he had the cradle moved to his side of the bed, within his reach, so that every time she had to wake up because the baby was wailing, she had to walk around the bed and pray that she would not tumble to the floor in the dark.

However, she was at least grateful to have Aemond’s support, for the little he could do. If he wasn’t occupied with warfare or hearings, he spent all the time he had with her and their child. And in those moments, no matter how exhausted she was, she would always find the strength to smile at the view when he held their baby, tracing his long fingers over the velvety grizzled skin of Aenar’s small hands; even when he’d speak to him in Valyrian, at which she had frowned at first.

“You do realise he’s one week old?”

“”Tis never too soon.”

“Mh. What’s next? Bring him to the skies on dragonback?”

“I’ll have you know Vhagar is perfectly safe to—“

“Over my dead body.”

He had smiled and stood up, going to place the baby in her arms. Aenar immediately began to fuss, whining and turning his head against her chest. She had started to unbutton her chemise but then stopped, looking up, where Aemond stood still like a sentry, and watching.

She raised an eyebrow. “Am I putting up a show?”

“Usually, you do.” He drawled. “Am I not allowed to watch? It seems my son and I already share a few interests.”

She looked away, smiling, and then she freed her left breast, watching as the baby immediately latched onto it. A moment later, Aemond took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. He stared at her, and she saw that familiar glint his eye.

He trailed his thumb over her lip, barely breaching inside. “Soon?” was all he asked.

“Soon.” Was all she answered.

The soreness and the bleeding were reducing, and she was back in her tight flesh.

But the Gods must have cursed them some more, because that “soon” never seemed to become “now”.

The sickness didn’t seem willing to leave the poor child alone, along with his parents and the entirety of the Red Keep who had to suffer through his heartbreaking cries day and night.

The Princess had started to feel hopeless and guilty, no matter how many times the nursemaids, and even Queen Alicent, told her it was not her fault, that it was natural. No matter how many times she tried to convince herself they were right. Her heart broke any time the baby cried, wriggling desperately in her arms, in Aemond’s, in the cradle. She would end up crying too as she tried to soothe him, caressing his back with her cheek resting on his timidly silver-haired head.

She was working herself up to exhaustion, often falling asleep with the baby still latched onto her breast. It was Aemond who would take the baby to the cradle, it was Aemond who would button her chemise and pull up the blankets.

She hit rock bottom two weeks after Aenar’s birth, when she realised she hadn’t bathed in four days. Even Aemond, she could swear, was starting to look a little ragged around the edges. You don’t want to be King and take decisions in the middle of a war only to come back to a screaming infant at night.

But then, like a curse lifting, the sickness stopped. Amidst all those days she had stopped counting or even being aware of which was which, Aenar stopped crying. She was ashamed to admit that the first night he slept peacefully in his cradle, she had gone to check on him five times, to see if he was still breathing.

She began to gradually return to her former self, able to enjoy motherhood with a more rested mind, at least. Physically, she still felt worn out, given how much time she spent breastfeeding or rocking the baby to sleep. But now she was strong enough to take the baby out, walking the gardens with her maids and smiling proudly as the court ladies stopped to congratulate themselves and say how beautiful her baby was.

By doing this, though, she also became aware that she had lived in a bubble for so long that she had almost forgotten there was a war raging, there were battles being fought across the realm.

Reality hits her one day when Alicent goes to visit her and her grandson, bringing the news of a very important victory near the Honeywine, a large river flowing in the Reach, thanks to Prince Daeron Targaryen who had arrived all victorious on that very morning, riding his blue scaled dragon, Tessarion.

The news stuns her for a moment. She had no idea of it, partly because she had been too caught up with Aenar, but also because Aemond had not told her. Yet her family came from the Reach, they lived there, not very far from the Honeywine; her older brother fought for the Green Army. Still, not a word from Aemond.

Taking advantage of Aenar sleeping and the fact that Alicent offered to watch him, she leaves her chambers and heads for the Council. There’s a bustle of lords coming out of the door when she gets there, barely paying her any attention as they hastily babble about armies and supplies and men; always more men to be sent to slaughter.

She stops at the door, widening her eyes at the silver head crossing the threshold, one she hadn’t seen in a long time. “Prince Daeron.”

The youngest son of Queen Alicent and late King Viserys was nothing but a boy. But war had taken its toll on him too. He stood like a man, a Prince, and more than anything, a skilled dragon rider.

“Princess.” He says, tilting his chin down.

She curtsies and sees an immediate gentle smile softening his Valyrian features. “I believe some congratulations are in order.”

“Well, in all fairness, you shall be the most celebrated, my Prince. I’ve just heard of your recent victory.”

His gentle smile lingers, but loses its sparkle. “I must say I much prefer to celebrate life…rather than…the death of innocent men and women.”

There can’t be objections to such a statement; she just nods and casts a distracted glance inside the Council.

“Please…” the Prince says then, making room to let her pass “I won’t keep you away from my brother.”

She turns her head and smiles, tightly. “I’m afraid it is your brother who keeps himself away from me.”

“Heavy is the head that wears the Crown.”

“Indeed.”

The Prince bows to her and leaves.

Closing the door behind her, she glances at Aemond sitting at the head of the table, in the King’s chair, with such effortlessness that he seems to have been born exclusively for that purpose.

“I thought I heard you.” he says absent-mindedly, scribbling down a small piece of parchment. She slowly walks to the windows, casting a single furtive glance down, but she can’t possibly make out what he’s writing, or to whom.

“How’s—"

“Aenar is fine.” She cuts him off. “He’s with your mother, sleeping.”

He stops scribbling, glancing up for a moment. Her voice is tight, cutting. He knows that tone. It’s the same one she used in Harrenhal, as if he should have fallen to his knees and be grateful for the mere fact that she was speaking to him. But he doesn’t have time today to circle around her like a coiling snake, so he goes straight to the point. “Is something the matter?”

“You didn’t tell me of the Honeywine.” She says after a moment, gazing at the Bay.

Aemond sighes, a sign that he was expecting such a question. “You were looking after our son.”

“And?” she’s quick to rebut, quick to reach him at the table and stare down at him. “You didn’t deem it appropriate to inform me of a battle raging in my family lands?”

“I am your family.” He says, stoically, as if common law, and she has to stifle a bitter laugh. The nerve of him. “That is a very lovely concept. Strange how it got lost on you in Harrenhal.”

“Enough!” he barks, and the sudden harshness makes the quill pierce through parchment. “I thought I’d made myself clear.” He warns. “I don’t want to hear another word about the witch. Ever.”

She obediently looks down, regretting having said that, but not entirely. Perhaps she has spent so much time beside him that she, too, can’t let go of her grudges.

“I did not tell you, for I did not want to upset you.” He says, resuming his collected tone. “You were worn out by the baby, I didn’t want to put more weight on your shoulders.”

She knows he’s sincere. Still, her nod is stiff as she looks away, biting her cheek. She is just so sick of it all. Of being regarded as a cunt to be bred at first and now a weakling nailed to a cradle with an infant sucking the life out of her. She knows she’s not the first, and she won’t be the last.

Aemond leaves the quill and stands up, circling until he’s close to her. “Your family is fine.” He tells her, lingering behind her. “Daeron spoke to your brother this morning.”

She keeps nodding, keeping her gaze down on the table, all scattered with maps and little dragon-shaped tokens, some black, some green. She frowns, letting warfare soothe her petty spirits. “What is this?”

“Our next move. A defense plan…which happens to be an attack plan too.”

“A pincher?”

She turns just in time to see the little surprise on his face. “My brother talked of nothing else when we were children. He slept with warfare books as pillows.”

“Hmm.” He muses, and takes a step closer, slipping his arm around her waist and resting his chin on her collarbone. “Show me.”

She shudders at his sudden proximity, at his breath blowing on her neck. She shudders at anything these days. A hand on her back, his legs fumbling beneath the covers and casually brushing against hers. She’s tight as a fiddle string.

“A pincher is nothing else but a decoy.” She explains. “You let your enemy believe they have you trapped…” and in saying this, she grabs his hand and moves it across the map. “And then…at the right moment…” she makes him hold a green token between his fingers and brings it near a little division of black ones “you strike on both flanks.” And with a swift flick of her wrist, his hand scatters all the black tokens across the table. To do so, she must lean over the table, accidentally brushing her lower back against his bulge. He’s not hard, yet, but it thrills her to feel the lightning quick effect she has on him.

“Hmm. Good. Very good.” He praises next to her ear as she withdraws her hand; his voice is so low it makes her spine shiver. But she keeps herself grounded and asks “When will this happen?”

“Soon.” he whispers, placing his hand flat on her stomach. “There’s another Small Council shortly but Aegon wanted to be present. They went to fetch him.”

“Well, then I shall retire to my chambers. I feel a bit lightheaded from all the thinking.”

He ignores her jab and keeps her still by the arm when she tries to move. There’s a little sly smirk pulling at his lips. “I have some time to spare.”

“And how do you propose we spend it?”

“Enough with your pantomimes. I can feel your legs squirming.”

Curse him.

He slips the other hand straight into her corset, cupping her breast and humming with delight at how full she is, how it fills his large hand entirely. “Are you wet for me, my love?”

His teeth sink down her lobe, and at the same time, he pinches her nipple between his thumb and index, forcing an indecorous whine out of her. “My, my…” he laughs darkly, torturing her sensitive skin until he feels something wet on his fingertips, probably milk. “I could make you come just by doing this.”

Powerless, she yields, leaning completely against him, rubbing her lower back for some friction. “What if someone enters?”

“We’ll make it quick.”

“But I don’t want it to be quick.” She pants, grabbing his hand on her breast and squeezing; the other crawls behind her back to try to feel him through his breeches.

Hissing, when she starts to palm him, he says “Then we let them watch. They get to see how pretty you look when you come on my fingers, or my cock. Which should it be?”

“Both. Anything.” She answers hastily, pulling at his collar to bring him close enough to kiss him. He hums contentedly when she does, twirling his tongue around hers. It soon gets messy, each of them fighting for dominance, winning and losing in turn, until he spins her around, so he can look at her and with both his hands, he seizes her gowns and pulls up, furiously rummaging through them.

“How many fucking layers have you on?”

“I’m not pregnant anymore.” she points out, unbuckling his belt.

“Pity. Perhaps I should fuck another one into you to keep you in your skimpy robes.”

“Don’t you dare, Aemond—”

“Gods be good, brother! That eager to make another one?”

They both startle like little children caught doing something naughty, turning their heads towards the door, where two servants are carrying King Aegon on a chair. Aemond sighs annoyingly, letting go of her gowns as she does with his belt, trying to compose herself.

“My King.” She says, greeting her good brother with a tight little smile.

Aegon’s appearance has improved since Rook’s Rest, just as the burnings, but he carries with him the smell of Milk of the Poppy and rotting skin everywhere he goes.

“Good-sister. What are you doing here? Apart from being ravished by my brother... should you not be breastfeeding?”

Aemond gives him a level stare and then looks at her, hoping she will not take the bait. Aegon and his wife never got along well, to say the least. Things had only escalated with time, to the point that whenever they found themselves in the same room, one of them would wisely leave, his wife most of the times, lest they start to hiss at each other like two cats fighting for territory.

“What if I intend to stay and attend the council?”

Aegon giggles, as the servants put down the chair, and after a quick glance below her neck he says “I’m afraid you would be a little distracting. And my brother is not one for sharing.”

Before she can ask what in the Seven he is blabbing about, Aemond takes her arm and makes her turn, shielding her from his brother and the Lords coming through the door.

“You should retire.” He curtly says.

“Are you taking his side again?” she asks, wriggling her arm to free herself from his hold.

“You’re leaking.” He informs her, flatly.

At that, she frowns and dips her chin down, watching the front of her dress practically soaked in milk. “Oh.”

“I shall join you when I’m done here.” He tells her, and lets her out through the side doors.

Aemond did not join her.

The council lasted until the evening, a recurring thing when Aegon attended. Aemond was stern and concise in his decisions. Aegon liked to laze around, enjoying the wine in his cup, rattling his younger brother’s nerves. Deep down, she was convinced that Aegon did not really want to attend the Council because really interested in what to do, but only to remind his brother that he was still breathing and that the Conqueror's Crown on Aemond's head was a temporary measure.

But it didn’t matter. She would join him for the banquet in honor of Prince Daeron.

She was thrilled to go. It was not a proper feast. Since Helaena had fallen into grief, the atmosphere within the walls of the Keep had become rather austere. But a banquet still meant an occasion for conviviality, and after weeks and weeks spent locked up within four walls, the Princess was eager to spend some time outside her chambers. She had felt like a terrible mother at the mere thought. She loved Aenar, how could she not? But she also loved herself, her family, her marriage, Aemond. Especially Aemond.

Once she had put the baby to sleep, she had ordered her maid to prepare one of her favorite dresses, a green one, and to tie her hair in an elegant braided bun. When she had looked in the mirror, she had almost grunted. The scarce and troubled hours of sleep were all evident in the dark circles under her eyes, but it was nothing a little egg-white couldn't temper.

When she arrived at the banquet, Aemond was already there, standing in his usual soldierly stance, intent on talking to his mother. She approached them from the side, Aemond's blind side precisely, so that when she announced herself, he had to turn his shoulder to look at her. He cast a glance at her hair, ran his eye over her entire figure. She wasn’t expecting any kind of sappy words, and certainly not in front of his mother, nor did she desire them. She could feast on that look alone.

Queen Alicent excused herself to give order about the banquet, and they were left alone, while some musicians gathered in a corner of the hall.

“You said you would join me. I thought they abducted you.”

“More or less.”

“Ah. Yes, I'm sure it must have been so hard for you to listen to the lords snapping like little soldiers at your command.”

“It pains me to acknowledge how little you know me, when you think I'd rather talk war with those wimps who can't even hold a sword than fuck my wife till dawn.”

“That was your plan?”

“We have some unfinished business, don’t we? And don’t play dumb. You’re wearing green. You’re not as subtle as you think you are either.”

“Good. I’m sick of subtleties. So, are you going to ask me to dance?”

Aemond rolled his eye and gave her a stare that told her he’d preferred to walk barefoot on lava.

“Still not fond of dancing, eh?”

Prince Daeron suddenly appeared between them, with his cheerful manner and his head of silver curls, dressed in dark green just like his older brother. “Strange. You were the only one listening to the lessons when we were children.”

“Yes, because you and Aegon acted as court jesters the whole time.”

“I’ll have you know, brother, I have refined my dancing skills in Oldtown. So…may I dance with my good sister?”

Aemond gave him a simple nod, and Daeron bowed to her gallantly, raising his palm up.

She kindly accepted the invitation and placed her hand on his. “Don’t sulk too much.” She whispered to her husband before following his brother.

Aemond watched closely as they started to dance, stealing all the attention, and despite that little primitive tug at the sight of his woman dancing with another man, even though that was his brother and there was absolutely nothing malicious in his or her intentions, he was glad to see her like this, spinning and twisting around instead of lying still in the cold with dread eating her alive.

When the dance ended, Daeron escorted the Princess back to Aemond and took his leave. “Remind me again,” she asked as she watched the young Prince leave “How is it that your brother is still unmarried?”

Aemond sighed deeply and took her arm to escort her to the table. “I’d give you one week before you’d get bored of him.”

While they waited for dinner, the lords and ladies of the court were obviously very eager to hear Prince Daeron. Alicent in the first place, after so much despair, and after being separated from her youngest son for years, seemed to smile with her eyes every time she heard him speak.

“Hear, hear!” one of the lords cheered after listening to Prince Daeron’s retelling of the Battle of the Honeywine. “A brave soldier and a brave dragon rider! I propose a toast.”

At once, everybody stood up, raising their glasses. “To Prince Daeron, to House Targaryen!”

“And to House Hightower.” The Prince proudly stated, raising his glass towards his mother.

As they sat back, the Queen ordered the servants to serve the dinner. The table was gradually filled with a great variety of dishes, many of them Prince Daeron's favourites, specifically ordered by his mother to make him feel at home. It had been weeks and weeks since such a banquet had been seen at King's Landing. Prince Daeron seemed very pleased and grateful, as did all those present who watched the rich dishes crowd the table, and lastly, the huge tray of fresh fruit that a servant laid in the middle.

“I can’t quite believe my eyes. Blackberries? This far in the season?” said Lady Bracken.

“I’m afraid that is entirely my fault.” The Princess chirped, catching Aemond’s attention from across the table.

“I had a sudden craving, while I was carrying Aenar.”

“I had one too with my first.” Lady Redwyne joined in. “Plums, specifically.”

“Did you find them agreeable, Princess?”

“Oh, very much indeed.” She stated, casting an innocent glance around, but lingering for just a moment longer on her husband. “I devoured so many…I still feel the taste on my tongue.”

Devious woman, he thought, fighting back his cursed smirk. He had half a mind to excuse themselves and retire to their chambers, if he managed to endure it all the way and not take her in the middle of a hallway.

She seemed able to read his mind, judging by the way she was looking at him, unfurling a napkin on her lap. He knew her well enough to foresee when she was in a teasing spirit, and he was all in for it.

But then, just when they were about to start eating, her trusted maid came in, going straight to the Princess. “Apologies your Grace.” she said to her ear “but the Princeling is awake.”

Aemond saw the concern instantly widening her eyes and then a shadow passing over her face. “Yes…” she said, and stood up talking to all the present. “My apologies. I must retire.”

“See?” said Lady Bracken as Aemond watched his wife leave the hall. “This is why I refused to breastfeed. No matter how my second would scream…”

By the time she had done breastfeeding, her chest hurt so much that the maid had to place some rags soaked in cold water directly on her nipples; the instant relief had made the Princess close her eyes and almost moan. She had planned to go back to the banquet as soon as Aenar had had his fill but as she gained relief by pressing those wet rags to her breasts, she realised her son wouldn’t let her get away that easily.

As soon as the maid had taken him, trying to put him to sleep, he had begun to fuss and wriggle, whining in what she knew would soon turn into a high-pitched, deaf inducing crying.

Perhaps he’s cursed too. She had thought exhaustingly, promptly kissing his silver little head.

She gave up on her plan to go back to the banquet and rocked the baby herself, pacing before the windows while whispering sweet soothing words.

As soon as he had dozed off, she put him in his crib and absent-mindedly grabbed a book from Aemond's desk, lazily leafing through it while rocking the cradle with the other hand.

Aemond finds her like this when he opens the door on his way back from the banquet. She looks up from the page and sees him striding purposefully towards her, snatching the little book in her hands and throwing it on the bed.

She’s shocked, to say the least. One might say he treats books far better than his subjects.

“What—“ she tries to say but he takes her hand and pulls, forcing her to stand up and follow his steady gait.

“Aemond?” she asks down the corridor, a girlish grin climbing on her lips. “Where are you taking me?”

He doesn’t bother to answer but she doesn’t have to wait long to find out. They stop before a door down the corridor opposite to their chambers, Aemond pushes her inside without so much grace and shuts the door behind them.

She looks around briefly; the room is warm, the fire in the hearth is lit, as the candles scattered all around. This is all familiar. “These are my old chambers…” she says with a little frown, turning to him.

“Quite the observer, wife.” He drawls, and takes a few steps. His stride is different now. Slow, contemplating, as his gaze raking over her, as if he in the first place doesn’t know why he brought her here and he’s assessing what to do. A war map, and he knows where all the faults lie.

“I thought we could spend some time together” he starts, walking past her to go sit near the fire “Alone.” he adds once he leisurely sits down, crossing his long legs and resting his hands on the armrests. “What better place than a vacant room? No one will come looking for us here.”

She tries as hard as she can to stop the little smirk at the corner of her lips; she walks closer, stopping right in front of him, staring down. “They might hear.”

“Hmm. And that is much of a trouble for you, isn’t it?” he asks with the most fake genuine tone, taking a cup from the nearby table, and then “You sucked my cock on a terrace and begged me to fuck you in the Small Council…I thought I told you to quit your act.”

She smiles openly now, watching the wine pouring in the cup, his eye fixed on the liquid as his eyebrow shots up. “Besides, I know exactly what to do to muffle your noises.”

“You should be proud of my noises.”

“I am.” He says, taking a sip of wine, his eye piercing through her above the cup’s brim. “But for once, Aegon is right. I’m not one for sharing.”

His arm moves to put the wine aside but she takes it, only to feel his hand pulling the cup away from her. “You cannot drink.”

“Fine.” She concedes, leaning on him. “I’ll have it my way.”

She holds his face and with her left hand she glides her fingers on the left side of his face, delicately but with purpose, pushing the eyepatch off. And then she kisses him, eagerly, licking his lips and then breaching inside to taste the wine on his tongue, on the roof of his mouth.

She sighs deeply when he locks his tongue with hers, and feels his lips curling.

“Did you hear it?” He says breaking the kiss, breathing into her mouth. “That one is my favorite.”

“Your favorite what?” She asks mindlessly, chasing his lips but to no use, because he tilts his head back, his cursed smirk ghosting.

“Noise. It’s a little thing…” he tells her, locking one hand around her neck “in the back of your throat, close to a sigh but not quite…” his fingers trails against her throat, chasing her swallowing “It tells me you’re dying to.”

“To do what?”

“Fall on your knees for me. Be a supplicant.”

She grabs the back of his neck, driving his head close and looks down at his arched mouth “You cannot live without God, can you?” She looks up, her mouth open to breathe “Seven of them seem to have cursed me. I had to find my own.”

His eye widens at that. He looks straight into her eyes, so devoted, so raw. She’s right. The Gods would curse her some more if they saw she looks at him the way she should look at the Gods.

“Then do it.”

“What?”

“Flatteries don’t work on me, sweetling. You should know that.” With his hand on her neck, he slightly pushes her away, making some distance between them. “You will have to show me.”

“What would you have me do?”

His hands let go of her completely, resting on the armchair. The gemstone glints blue, and yet it’s nowhere near the bright cursed thing in his eye. “Get on your knees for me. Now.”

She should be ashamed of the pull in her bones, the muscles willing to move on their own accord and fall to the ground. But why, why does it have to be sin? Why can it not be religion?

When her knees hit the ground, she sees his chest rise, his long fingers spreading flat on the armchair. But her eyes fly back to his face as soon as he speaks, as soon as he commands. “Take off your dress.”

His eye sinks down, watching her hands work the corset, steadily. It’s the only sound in the room, this tugging, at the dress. But she tugs at his cock too. She tugs between her own legs.

When the dress is nothing but a pool of green on the ground, she goes to pull down her white chemise, but she suddenly stops. Aemond uncrosses his legs and the air hitches in her throat as his hands go straight to his belt, unbuckling it.

He revels in the little lump in her throat. Perhaps later he will let her have what she’s craving, but not so soon. “Give me your wrists.”

“My—”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

Swallowing, she keeps her eyes on him and raises her hands, like an offering. Aemond takes off his belt and leans forward, enough to take her hands and cross her wrists. She shudders at the sharp tug when he wraps the leather around, tying them tight.

“On your feet.”

And up she goes, testing her hands briefly but finding soon that she cannot move them, at all.

“Come.”

It takes one swift movement of his leg, bending the knee while the other rests loosely on the ground, for her to get the gist and walk closer, sitting on his knee, sideways.

“No. Like this.” Quite harshly, he grabs her hips and turns her so that she’s straddling his thigh. He can hear her little gasp when he pushes his thigh firmly against her core. He can feel her warmth through the fabric, stirring his cock. But he pays it no mind, for now.

“What now?” She asks, poised precariously on his thigh.

Aemond tilts his head, and he just looks at her. In the spur of a moment, a boyish one that doesn’t sit well with how he’s built, he thinks he might be quite contented by merely looking at her. Because she’s beautiful and mine, mine, mine.

But his hands are burning, they might fray and wither if he doesn’t touch her. He unties her hair, running his fingers through them as they fall around her shoulders. The Maiden. The Mother. And yet something better, something worse. Because her eyes are hungry, her mouth is starving for air, for his flesh.

“You must toil to find God.” He says, and then he grins. A savage thing, full of promise. “Bring yourself to come.”

A flash of thrill lights up her face, darkens her eyes and Aemond tilts his head again, biding all the time in the world, for he knows she will.

Tentatively, she pushes her body down, against his thigh, feeling a timid shot of pleasure traveling up from her core, ending in a short, labored breath.

That noise, that might be his second favorite.

Soon, her hips start to move back and forth, each time trying to push herself down as hard as she can, making little breathless cries each time she fails to give herself the friction she needs. She has little balance due to her tied wrists, so she rests her palms on his chest to gain some leverage. And that seems to do the trick.

She tilts her head back, moving faster, doing little jumps on his thigh, panting harshly as sweat lumps on her forehead and pleasure coils in her belly.

Aemond hikes up her chemise, watches her cunt brushing back and forth against his leg, leaving a trail of wetness on the fabric of his breeches. He has to choke down a growl. “Gods, you’re soaking me…”

She looks down at him, her cheeks pink, her lips open in a little o. He can’t help himself. He sticks two fingers inside and how relishing it is that she waits for no invitation or order. She laps, twirls her tongue around his fingertips, sucks them.

“Look at you…” he croons, taking his fingers out, leaving a trail of saliva down her chin. “But you can’t, can you? Perhaps I should fuck you before a mirror, so you see. You see how pretty you are when you’re desperate for me.”

His hand travels down her neck, tossing her hair back and then grasping the strap of her chemise, pulling it down, revealing her swollen, turgid breast. He leans forward immediately, cupping it in his hand, and takes the nipple into his mouth, crooning contentedly and then some more when he feels her wince and cry out loud.

Her tied wrists writhe in their merciless hold and he stops her, gripping both her hands with one of his own, keeping her still, lapping and sucking at her nipple until he feels something wet and saccharine on his tongue, humming all the better. He grazes his teeth over the sensitive bud, and she cries out again, bucking violently against him, turning sloppy and frenzy as she feels the fall close.

He feels it too, feels her thighs trembling around him, and that’s when he takes her hips in a tight hold and forces her to stop altogether.

“Did you think I would make it so easy?” he asks spitefully, seeing her dazed expression. Wasting no time, he holds her firmly close to him and stands up. It takes him only two of his long steps to reach the bed and place her above. In a moment of illusive freedom, her tied wrists fly to his breeches, to his evident hardness, but he’s quick to stop her, bringing her arms above her head, keeping them there with a firm hold. “Stay still.”

“Aemond—“ she pleads.

“Hush. Spread your legs.”

She obliges, eager for him to do something, anything to stop the aching. Aemond wets his fingers on his tongue and brings them down, breaching inside her with two of them, watching her gasp, arch her back and twist her wrists in his hold, uselessly. “Easy…” he cruelly laughs “I have just started.”

But she hasn’t. She’s a few steps away from the precipice of her previous denied peak, it would take him so little to push her over the edge. Instead, his torture is so slow that the whole coiling in her belly falls apart and she must climb her peak again.

His two fingers slip in and out ever so easily, their wet sounds echoing through the room, mixed with her panted breaths and his own. He aches for her to touch him, he aches so much that his cock is pulsing, painfully, but this is just too thrilling. Now he knows exactly how she felt in Harrenhal, when she had him chained up to a chaise.

Her hips rock frantically against his hand, trying to speed him, to get there faster. Mumbling nonsense, her legs tense like iron, her cunt clenches and sucks his fingers in like a vice. “Yes…yes, please…Aemond…please don’t stop—‘m so close…”

And just like that, he slips his fingers out; a dark pleasure dances on his candle-lit features as she writhes and whines for the loss of his fingers, swinging her lower back and forth, desperate for the barest friction that would end her misery.

“Aemond, please…” she says, and even with only one eye, he can’t mistake the tears of frustration at the corners of her eyes.

“What, my love?”

“Plea—” she’s cut off by his hand, pushing his sticky fingers inside to make her clean up her mess.

“We said enough with subtleties, did we not? Speak. Tell me…what you need me to do?”

“Let me come please…please…”

At that, he finally lets her wrists go, and she almost winces in pain, for the time she had them tensed above her head. He stalls for a moment, unsure, running his eye over her whole body, sweating and feverish, and so beautifully plump because of motherhood. He unbuttons his doublet, and then his shirt, his breeches. He bares himself completely, catching her eyes following his deft hands everywhere, breathing heavily.

He kneels between her legs, spreading them. And it’s embarrassing, really, the way she tumbles as soon as he puts his tongue flat against her drenched folds. If only she cared.

It takes only a couple of twirls of his tongue around her lips, and she comes undone, shaking all over, canting her slit against his face. He helps her ride out her climax, by not stopping at all. Instead, he doubles his efforts like a man possessed, pushing his mouth open against her cunt as if he wished to devour it, sucking harshly until she whimpers hard, choking on a loud sob. “Aemond—wait—I can’t—”

She cannot take more so soon. But he’s utterly deaf to her complaints.

He feasts on her, lapping and dipping his tongue in, parting her folds to go as deep as he can, humming while drinking all of her; his voice reverberates through her flesh, it makes her bones rattle.

His long nose rubs against her bud and he looks up: she trashes about the sheets, cutting herself as the belt leather scratches her skin. She tries to push him away with her tied wrists, to no use. She clamps her legs around his head, in a desperate attempt to chase him away, sobbing for the unbearable stimulation. And yet…and yet her hips move on their own whim, bucking with sharp jolts until the wave starts to rise, higher and higher, and she drowns in it, letting go a high-pitched cry, clutching his scalp with both her tied hands, scraping, pushing him against her as she rides her peak against his face.

He swallows everything, licking her clean, moaning softly at feeling her pulsing on his tongue.

“Enough…I—Aemond you have to stop…” she rasps breathlessly.

“Why?” he asks, finally rising from where he had perched himself; he climbs on her, until he speaks to her face. “I am only making up to you. Wasn’t that what you wanted?”

She can smell herself on him, she can see herself, glistening on his mouth, chin, even his cheekbones.

“Answer me.” His hand grips her jaw “You said you wanted everything.”

She chokes down a whimper when he leans completely on her, feeling his cock against her cooling flesh, while he’s hot and hard and heavy.

“I will give you more.” He says, brushing a strand of her sweat-soaked hair from her temple. “I will give you another child. Keep you all aching and wet for me while you swell with my child. Do you think I don’t know? How you ached for me? D’you think I didn’t?” he presses himself down, so she can feel it thoroughly, furrowing her brow as her body already answers to his call.

“I can feel you in our bed…” he keeps rasping “rubbing your legs together. And you know how much that bothers me. Your pleasure is mine to take…and to give.”

Her lips part, gasping roughly. She was so hung on his lips that she hadn’t even registered that he had taken hold of himself, bending her knee on his left hip, and guided himself in.

She arches against him while he slowly sheathes himself all the way in, moaning with long-awaited relief. He stays still for a moment, adjusting, but also because he takes her wrists and sets her hands free.

Thrilling as it was, he wants her hands on him, he craves her touch.

He wants her to cling to his shoulders as she always does, digging her nails down.

He wants her to clamp her fingers on the back of his neck, scraping and pulling his hair to keep him close enough to moan into his mouth.

He wants her hands on his back, sliding down, to push him even deeper while rutting inside her.

And she does all of that. She finds God.

4K notes · View notes

rinkkuma · 4 months

Text

୨୧ JJK BOYS V.S. PLUSHIES

ft. satoru gojo, yuta okkotsu, suguru geto, yuuji itadori, & megumi fushiguro

tags. gn!reader, all fluff ! what will they do when you have plushies on your bed… / author's note. these are all lowk the same just variants im sorry i #hadnomoreideas

SATORU fights every urge in his body to not punch, throw, or kick your plushies off your bed. seeing them makes him mad. the word plushies makes him want to scream, he can't even control himself. like, they get to sleep with you every night?! he hates strongly dislikes whenever you get a new plushie and show it off to him. once you leave your room, oh boy, he is punching all of your plushies one by one. and not even a light punch; he is punching as hard as he can. (in the face, mind you) he gets a little carried away, unknowingly being loud as hell, and is laughing a little. you are confused and a little worried, so you decide to go check on satoru.. and what a scene you walked into! all of your plushies are now on the ground, with the sole survivor being your favorite, still on the bed. satoru has your favorite plushie in a chokehold while he blabs about how it'll regret even being made and gives it another punch with his other hand. he hasn't noticed your presence yet due to the heat of the moment, but when he does, he awkwardly drops your plush and looks at you like nothing had happened. you burst out laughing while he mumbles how he was just “fluffing them up”.

YUTA doesn't mind them at all. after all, he also has plushies to help him sleep at night, and he adored you ten times more once he found out that you did too. one day, the two of you have a sleepover, and he brings all of his plushies over.. oh boy! the moment he showed up at your front door with bags and bags of plushies, your jaw dropped. (there was one even balanced on top of his head) yuta was honestly more of a plushie addict than you. when he laid out his plushies on your bed, it was filled. wherever you laid, you would squish a few plushies. despite all the plushies, the two of you end up cuddling each other anyway. (half of them had fallen off the bed by the end of the night)

SUGURU is genuinely not bothered by your plushies. they're inanimate objects; why would he be bothered? they're cute, and he can count on them to help you sleep at night when he's not present. he also likes to buy you more plushies because of the way your face lights up when you see them, he can't get enough. every morning, after (the majority) of your plushies have fallen off the bed, he tenderly helps you arrange them back in their place. suguru even begins to give each one of your plushies a name (if you didn't already name them) and a little backstory. his personal favorite is a pair of plushies that reminds him of you and him.

YUUJI has mixed feelings about your plushies. yes, they're cute, but sometimes, when he sees you cuddling one, he wants to snatch it and replace it with himself. over time, he notices how you're always holding or cuddling the same plushie. sure, everyone has their favorites, but you have other ones, so why not switch them up every once in awhile? he decides to ask you why one day, and when you respond that it simply reminded you of him, he nearly passes out. he was hyperventilating, screaming, and everything in between. from that day on, yuuji has loved your plushies and even bought you variants of whatever plushie you said that looked like him.

MEGUMI tries to convince himself that he does not care about your plushies. they're cute and all, but he can't help but feel jealous of them. sometimes. whenever he has to be out and about, you send pictures to him throughout the day, and sometimes your plushie is sneaked into the photo at your side, and he can't help but feel annoyed. that plushie could've been him, but gojo had unfortunately dragged him out that day. he mentally groans as he types out a response, trying to sound as nice as he can. at first typing, “get that stupid plush away from you rn” before hastily deleting it and just sending, “pretty”. after megumi gets dragged around by gojo (yuuji and nobara magically appeared too) for six hours, he can finally go home. when he walks in, you're on the couch watching whatever random movie you had turned on out of boredom, and that stupid plushie is still by your side. he walks a little closer, and you're literally hugging it. megumi sighs before walking up next to your seat and gently snatching the plushie out of your hold before sitting down next to you and pulling you into his arms.

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anastasiabowe · 9 months

Text

𝘾𝙃𝘼 𝘾𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂! — Your husbands who just can’t say no to your cute little face, but sometimes that comes with a cost you will have to pay.

note: This one came to me in a DREAM. I want a man like this, so why not make my man like this?🤷🏽‍♀️

Content warnings: overstim, piv, punishment, rich husband, spanking, tough love, swearing, anything else 17+

★ — 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜

Nanami loved when you were happy. It wasn’t even a happy wife happy life situation, it was a I love seeing her smile situation. He never denied you of any expensive item you wanted. I mean how could he say no to you? He watched as you practically skipped around the mall with his black card, showcasing it if anyone who glanced at you.

He smirked seeing you happy, but yet he felt a little disappointed by your lack of self control. He knew what he was getting into when he pulled out that million dollar ring. His strong arms were lined with black bags and name brands, your hands only holding his card and one small bag. He didn’t mind though, as long as you were happy!

But don’t think he lets you get away with everything! If you have an attitude after this shopping spree, which you do, he will punish you, and that’s because he loves you! It was an agreement, if you can spend his cash, he can use you, or what he likes to say, “enjoy you.”

“Nanamin!” You whined as your new set of black nails tried to push his stomach away.

“Yes?” His deep, yet professional voice oh so casually responded, despite his deep thrusts.

“P-please slow down! I can’t t-take it!” He chuckled at you, you were too cute to ignore, but this is what you deserve! You spent thousands of dollars today, and when he simply asked “are you almost done?” You give an attitude? Oh no, no, no. You weren’t going to get away with that.

“I’m sorry baby, just wanna show you who’s paying for everything you bought today. Just wanna show you who you were giving an attitude to.” He started to speed up, and you cried from the amount of orgasms you’ve had.

“Just one more, then you can have a break.” He kissed your head, and readjusted his position, you both know it won’t be one more.

★ — 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜

Toji hated when you spent his money. And what I mean by hate, I mean he will hand you his card and regret it later. You’re actually a modest shopper. You have a bit of an expensive taste, but you have respect for Toji enough to not go crazy. But when Toji had handed you his card at the mall and gave you and said something back handed, you went a little wild.

You bought new heels, expensive jeans, expensive make up, expensive bags. You swiped his card until your hand had a rectangular shape from how hard you gripped it while you tapped it to the card reader.

When Toji later that night checked all of the receipts (which you purposely got so he could see how mad you were) he nearly blew a fuse. $10,000 worth of items you bought. Even though that is nearly nothing compared to how much is in his bank account, it was the principle of it.

“I give you my fucking card only for you to use it like a fucking piece of plastic.” His hand smacked your left ass cheek, making you dig your nails into his thigh.

“I-I’m sorry!” You cried. He rubbed his hand over the deep red mark, and tsked.

“I bet you are.” He landed two more hits to your left and right cheek. You let out a whimper and he ripped both of your cheeks again.

“$10,000, y/n. What were you shopping for, a house?” He chuckled at his own joke, but you didn’t find this funny. He landed another smack. “What made you think that was ok?”

You sniffled from crying and the rage you felt earlier burned through your body again. “Maybe if you didn’t call me a gold digger, yo I wouldn’t be $10,000 poorer!”

The word “poor” irked something in him he hasn’t felt in a while. He grabbed your hair and pulled your head up.

“I’d watch your fucking mouth, I’m the one who fucking pays for your shit.” He spat, you frown, and your bottom lip slowly popped out. He knew what you were doing, but it wasn’t going to work.

“Nah, don’t pull that shit.” He smirked, but the longer he looked at your face the more guilty he felt.

“Y/n.” He warned. You continued to look at him with that face, and he sighed. “You spoiled brat.” He let go of your hair, and moved you to straddle him.

“Just don’t be spending my money all crazy ‘n shit.” You nodded, and he rolled his eyes.

You always fucking win.

#jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #nanami smut #kento nanami x black reader smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x black reader

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incognit0slut · 3 months

Text

Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene II: The Dangerous Game)

An unexpected tension rises between you as Spencer dangerously blurs the line of your fake relationship.

Part warning: Sexual tension. Lots of it. And... body description? Basically Spencer gets a little handsy and has a boner😭 Words: 2.8k

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

You should’ve known this would happen. Deep down, given the lie you were maintaining, you had suspected that you'd end up sharing a room together. You were dragging your suitcase behind you—because a duffel bag wasn’t enough for all your stuff despite staying just one night—when Penelope pulled you away from the group.

“You and lover boy are staying in the room on the second floor, the one on the corner left.”

You frowned, your eyes darting between Penelope and Spencer, who was grabbing his bag from the car. “I really don’t think that’s necessary,” you reasoned, trying to come up with an excuse. “I mean… Reid and I just started dating, we haven’t… you know.”

Penelope flashed you a smile. "Then maybe it's the perfect time to… you know.”

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks. "Pen, no, we should probably—"

She cut you off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "It’s just for one night. Besides, you know it’s the best room here—great view, lots of space. It would be a waste for it not to be enjoyed by the new couple."

You narrowed your eyes on her.

“It’s also the only room with a lock.”

You made a face. The thought of sharing a room with Spencer, especially one with a lock, sent a wave of anxiety through you. Memories of that night flooded your mind, making the situation feel even more daunting. You felt your cheeks flush again, your heart pounding faster. It took every ounce of your self-control to smooth your expression back into something neutral.

"Alright," you said, forcing a smile. “Fine.”

Penelope beamed, clearly pleased with herself. "Great!” She gushed, pulling her suitcase. “Because there are no available rooms left.”

You sighed inwardly, realizing there was no way out of this. You watched her enter the house, leaving you to gather your thoughts alone. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Maybe sharing a room with Spencer would be manageable.

After all, it was just one night. You had handled more complicated scenarios in your line of work, hadn’t you? You had faced near-death experiences. If you could negotiate with armed suspects, how hard could one evening of pretend romance be?

Extremely hard, you realized, because when Spencer slowly approached you, all you wanted was for the ground to swallow you whole.

“What?” he asked, probably noticing the look of sheer panic on your face.

You tried to find the proper way to say it, searching for words that might soften the blow. But there was no other way than to tell it how it was.

“We’re... we’re sharing a room,” you finally managed to say.

There was a pause, and then there it was, the elephant in the room. But you both avoided acknowledging it directly, as you always did, so he simply cleared his throat and looked away.

“Okay,” Spencer said quietly, his eyes fixed on some distant point.

“Okay?” You echoed. “You’re really okay with this?”

He glanced back at you. “Look, weren’t you the one who wanted to make this convincing? Sharing a room might help with that.”

You sighed, knowing he was right but still feeling the weight of the situation. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s just...”

“It’s just one night,” he snapped. “We’ll manage.”

Oh, wow, he was going to be a bitch about it.

His tone was sharp, dismissive, and it grated on your nerves. This whole situation was already uncomfortable, and his attitude was only making it worse. The last thing you needed was him to act like this was some minor inconvenience when it felt like so much more. You threw a glare at him.

“Fine,” you shot back. “But you’re taking the floor.”

He didn’t respond, he just kept looking at you with that same unreadable expression. His silence was infuriating. It was as if he couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge your frustration, and that only fueled your anger more. Without another word, you stormed away, seething, dragging your suitcase as you left him standing alone in the driveway.

Maybe he shouldn't have snapped at you. Spencer knew it wasn't fair to take his frustration out on you, especially when you were both stuck in the same awkward predicament. But it was hard to act as if everything was fine when the reality of your situation weighed so heavily on his mind.

Sometimes he wished he wasn’t wired like this. He knew he had the tendency to overthink, to let anxiety get the better of him, or to struggle with situations that required emotional skill. He could handle high-pressure situations in the field, but dealing with personal relationships was hard for him. It was never his intention to push people away when he felt overwhelmed, but it happened way too often, and today was no exception.

He also knew he needed to work on that. But to do so, it required him to confront his traumas, and that was the last thing he wanted to face. So instead, he pulled his sunglasses down and opened his book because nothing screams a good coping mechanism like reading fiction to avoid reality.

And his reality now was you.

“What are you doing?”

He peered over his glasses and saw Derek hovering above him. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Like you’re brooding.”

“I’m reading.”

“I can see that,” Derek said as he settled on the lounge chair beside him. “What I meant was, what are you doing out here alone? Where’s your girlfriend?”

Spencer had asked himself the same question. You weren’t there when he dropped his bag in your shared room, you were also missing during lunch, and when he realized that you were avoiding him on purpose, he decided to change into more comfortable clothes and head out to the pool.

“She’s around,” Spencer replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Needed some alone time, I guess.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise already? You two just started dating.”

“It’s not that. We’re just…” He thought of a way to explain the situation without giving too much details. “We’re adjusting to the whole team knowing about us. It’s a bit overwhelming.”

“You’re both overthinkers, that’s the problem. Just relax and enjoy the weekend,” Derek suggested, leaning back in his chair before giving him a pointed look. “And maybe try spending some time with her instead of hiding behind that book.”

“I’m not hiding,” Spencer shot back without looking up from the pages.

“Sure you’re not,” Derek replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Just saying, kid, you’re here to have fun. Maybe try doing that with your girlfriend.”

He turned a page over, not saying a word. When Derek realized he was purposely ignoring him, he leaned closer.

"Let me give you some advice about women."

Spencer wrinkled his nose, already dreading what was coming. "I’m not sure I want to listen to this."

"Trust me, you do," Derek insisted. "First off, this," he said, pausing for emphasis before pointing his finger toward Spencer’s book. "Is not cute."

Spencer flipped over his book, revealing the cover with its title printed in bold letters. In Cold Blood. "Of course not. It's a detailed account of the 1959 murders in—hey!"

Before he could continue, Derek reached out and plucked the book from his hands. "Not this. You," he said, pointing the book at him. "No wonder she's off doing her own thing while you're glued to this."

Spencer furrowed his brow. "She's the one who—"

"No. No." Derek placed the thick paperback down on the small table between them. "Second piece of advice about women, they're always right. Or, at least, they think they are, and sometimes it's easier and wiser just to go along with that."

"That's hardly practical advice."

Derek laughed, leaning back comfortably. "You don't have to agree with everything, but showing that you value her perspective can go a long way."

"She’d be easier to deal with if she wasn’t so stubborn.”

"Reid, do you even hear yourself? You sound like you don't even like her."

Spencer paused, an uncomfortable realization dawning on him. He was supposed to be playing the part of a devoted boyfriend, not a grumpy one. He was supposed to keep up the act.

"Fine," he sighed reluctantly. "What should I do then?"

"Be present. Stop isolating yourself and go talk to her."

"I don't even know where she is."

“Then go find her," Derek said matter-of-factly, his eyes drifting across the pool. He nodded his head. "Speak of the devil.”

Spencer turned in the direction Derek pointed, pushing his sunglasses up with a finger as they slid down his nose.

Then he froze. His brain promptly shut down as if someone had flipped a switch. His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, his jaw slacking open, his mind startlingly blank as he watched you step out of the house wearing what he assumed was a swimsuit. The top had straps that crisscrossed in a way that seemed overly complicated to him, and the bottoms were minimal, barely covering your skin.

Your swimsuit left very little to the imagination and he found himself momentarily stunned. He felt an unexpected tightness in his throat and a sudden warmth pooling in his chest. The heat surged through his body before it focused right between his legs, and he forced himself to clench his thighs together as he snapped his mouth shut.

Derek cleared his throat beside him.

"I guess you do like her," he teased, picking up the book from the table before dropping it onto Spencer's lap. "You might want to hide that."

Spencer’s face turned a deep shade of red as he quickly tried to adjust the book to cover himself better. His mortification grew as he noticed you standing close by, your attention directed towards Derek.

"Hey Morgan, can I steal my boyfriend for a sec?" you asked, smiling a little too sweet.

"He's all yours, pretty girl," Derek replied with a grin, standing up before he left you two alone. When he was out of earshot, you sat on the chair he had occupied.

"We've been away from each other far too long," you commented, your voice hushed. "It's not looking good for us."

Spencer nodded absently, trying to focus on your words. But his attention was too focused on the bottle of sunscreen in your hand.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

He shook his head.

“You have," you pointed out, popping open the cap. "Well, maybe I have too, but that’s not the point."

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, his eyes following the movements of your hands as you squeezed some sunscreen onto your palm.

"We need to do something," you continued. Your palms rubbed the lotion together at the same time his tongue darted out to lick his lips nervously. "If we keep avoiding each other, they’ll start to suspect us."

He nodded again, his mind half on your words and half on the way the sunscreen glistened on your skin as you started applying it to your arms. "You're right," he admitted, forcing himself to concentrate. "We need to be more convincing."

"Exactly," you pressed, unaware of his growing distraction. "We should start doing things that couples do. Spend time together, be seen together."

"Yeah," he echoed, his gaze drifting as you moved to apply sunscreen to your shoulders. “Together.”

"And we should show more affection," you added, and his breathing hitched slightly when your hands moved to apply sunscreen across your chest, fingers brushing subtly along the upper swell of your breasts. It was a casual motion for you, but for him, it was torture. His eyes followed the path of your hands, his mind struggling to stay focused on anything else.

"And I know you don’t like holding hands, or any type of PDA for the matter," you continued, turning slightly, giving him a clearer view of your chest. "But I think it's necessary. It makes this whole thing look real.”

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, his focus slipping again as your hand moved lower, smoothing lotion over your stomach and inching toward your hips. His throat felt dry, and he unconsciously pressed the book harder against his lap.

“Really? You’re okay with that?”

He blinked, forcibly pulling his eyes up to meet yours, hoping you were oblivious of where his gaze had lingered behind his shades.

“Yes." He winced when his voice came out high-pitched and strained. He cleared his throat, and repeated in a more controlled voice, “Yes.”

“Huh.”

He shifted nervously. “What?”

“Nothing.” You looked away, now focusing on your legs. “I just didn’t expect you to agree.”

He hadn’t planned to, but it was hard to think straight when he was too focused on the way you were leaning down, smoothing the lotion over your thighs. The angle gave him a clear view of your breasts peeking out from your top, the thin fabric barely containing them, and he had to bite his lip to suppress a moan.

“Great, they’re still staring at us,” you noted with a quick glance over your shoulder. You handed him the bottle of sunscreen. “Here, help me put it on my back.”

His eyes widened. “I don’t think—“

But you were already laying down on your stomach on the lounge chair, pushing your hair to the side. “Come on, it’ll look more natural if you help me.”

Maybe you were right, maybe this was necessary, but he couldn’t help recalling the last time he had his hands on you and how that night had turned out. But he convinced himself that this was different. You both were out in the open and surrounded by your friends, so nothing could go wrong.

Nothing serious, anyway.

He moved to your chair while keeping his book securely on his lap, and you caught sight of his awkward movements. “You know you could just put the book down.”

“No, I… I think I’ll keep it with me.”

“You must really like that book.”

He forced a small laugh, trying to appear casual. “Yeah, it’s, uh, a good read.”

You frowned, clearly not buying it but choosing not to push further. He then took a deep breath and poured some sunscreen into his hands. He moved closer, the book still awkwardly balanced on his lap, and slowly placed his hands on your back.

Your skin was warm, just like how he had imagined it. Soft and smooth under his fingertips. He started at your shoulders, working his way down with slow, careful motions. He could feel the tension in his body as he focused on you, acutely aware of every inch of skin under his fingers.

You had grown quiet, and Spencer noticed the subtle change in your breathing—how it had deepened and slowed. Your usual witty remarks were replaced by a tense silence that seemed to hum with something neither of you had expected to surface. He felt your muscles relax under his touch, and as he reached the lower part of your back, he paused, unsure.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “You can go lower... if you need to.”

He nodded slightly, though you couldn’t see it, and shifted his position. He could feel the heat radiating off your skin, the subtle shifts of your body as you adjusted to his touch. Then his hands slipped a bit further down, his fingers brushing the top of your swimsuit line.

“Let me know if I need to stop,” he murmured, his voice low and almost hesitant.

You didn’t respond immediately, and he took your silence as permission to continue. His pulse quickened as he realized the line he was crossing. This was already dangerous territory, but he couldn’t help it. Not when he was this close to feeling your soft flesh beneath his fingertips. Not when the rush of blood to his groin was making him lose all sense of control.

He carefully slipped his fingers just under your swimsuit. When you made no move to stop him, his fingers dipped dangerously lower, his gaze intently fixed on your face. He observed your mouth part slightly, eyes closed and brows knitted together in a mix of surprise and something else he couldn't quite place.

He was so focused on your expression, the way your body responded to his hands, that he nearly missed the soft, almost breathless sigh that escaped your lips. The sound was unmistakably intimate, downright sinful and he immediately stopped. His hands hovered just above your skin as you quickly opened your eyes, realization dawning on both of you.

"I-I'm sorry, I—" he started, pulling his hands back, the book almost falling from his lap.

"No, it's... it's okay," you said quickly, sitting up and adjusting your swimsuit, a flush creeping up your neck. “I… uh...”

You looked at each other, silent for a heartbeat. Then you both began to speak at the same time.

“I’m gonna—”

“I should probably—”

You cleared your throat, beginning to stand up. “I’m gonna grab a drink. Do you want anything?”

Spencer shook his head, a tight smile briefly crossing his face. “No, I, uh, I’m good. Thanks.”

There was an awkward silence before you finally snapped. You quickly turned and hurried away, leaving Spencer to himself as he sat there, his body betraying a level of sexual frustration that was both inconvenient and embarrassing. The bulge in his pants was almost painfully obvious at that point, forcing him to adjust the book on his lap with a grimace.

His eyes involuntarily flickered back to you, only to regret it instantly as he caught a glimpse of your ass peeking from the bottom of your swimsuit. He let out a sigh. He might actually need a cold drink after all, or better yet, a whole bucket of ice.

#much ado about nothing #gifwriting #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid series #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction

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navybrat817 · 11 months

Note

How does Bucky handle you being sick? 🥺

I may have gone overboard, nonnie. 😂

Sick Day

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky takes care of you when you get a cold. He also takes care of the guy who may have given you a cold.

Word Count: Over 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, humor, established relationship, reader has a cold, implied smut, interrogation, Bucky Barnes being a ridiculously wonderful boyfriend in love (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I don't know where this came from. Maybe a bit of inspiration from @inklore here. 😂❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When you had a hard time getting out of bed this morning due to a cold you caught at work, you tried to brush it off. Bucky immediately called in to take a personal day and said he had to take care of you, which forced you to take a sick day as well. It was for the best. You had a tendency to push yourself past your limit some days and he kept you in check.

You snatched a tissue out of the box beside you just in time to sneeze into it. With a pained groan, you scrunched up your face and dropped the tissue into the small pile in your lap. It took you a moment to sip your water, followed by your herbal tea. Though your throat was sore, you had to stay hydrated. You also had to get some rest.

Bucky wouldn’t let you hear the end of it if you didn’t.

“I hate this,” you mumbled to yourself before your boyfriend rushed into the living room to check on you, his piercing eyes searching the room as if to assess a threat.

“I heard you talking, baby. You need to rest your voice,” he said, adjusting the humidifier he set on the coffee table before his concerned gaze snapped back to you. “Wait. Do you need something? Do you not have enough blankets? I can get you more tea. Or I can put something on TV. Shit, where’s the writing pad?”

You tried not to smile as the massive shirtless supersoldier bustled around the room. He hadn’t seen you under the weather since the two of you started dating and you should’ve known he’d make a big deal out of it. Whether it had to do with growing up with Steve who dealt with all sorts of ailments or simply because it was his girlfriend feeling less than stellar, you weren’t sure. Either way, it was endearing to see the former Winter Soldier worked up over you.

He had nothing to worry about though.

“I’m fine,” you croaked before you went into a coughing fit.

Bucky’s eyes widened as he crouched beside you and brought the water back to your lips once you had yourself under control. His brows furrowed when he checked your forehead with his right hand, which made you fall in love with him a little more. You tried to tell him earlier to keep his distance so he didn’t get sick before he gently reminded you that he wasn’t exactly prone to catching colds thanks to the serum.

A silver lining from the pain he had to go through.

“You’re not fine. You’re sick. Well, you’re still 'fine',” he smiled a little, making your heart swell. “I used that in the right context, didn’t I?”

You almost went into another coughing fit as you giggled, the sound huskier and deeper than normal. “Only you would think I’m fine when I’m like this,” you said, reaching up to run your fingers through his silky chestnut hair. He hadn’t brushed it today. Too busy taking care of you. “And I’m not ‘sick’ sick. it’s just a cold.”

“It isn’t just a cold. Not to me,” he said, his jaw clenching as his vibranium fingers curled.

“I’ll be better before you know it,” you assured him, raising an eyebrow as his cheek twitched. “What’s the matter?”

Why is he getting himself worked up?

“I just don’t like you feeling any kind of pain,” he said, leaning up so he could press his lips to your forehead. He huffed as they lingered there. “I wish I could take it away and I can’t.”

It was a sweet sentiment, especially after everything he went through.

“I know you would if you could and it’s okay that you can’t,” you said. You understood where he was coming from though because you didn’t like the idea of him in pain either. He had a heart almost as large as his body and you were lucky to get a single ounce of his love. “Don’t worry, okay?”

“You’re my girl and it's impossible not to worry,” he said, a touch of possession and tenderness seeping into his tone. Belonging to him was as natural as breathing. “But I'll try to relax a bit.”

“As long as you try,” you said as he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

Your head tingled from his lips before you frowned. This close, you could usually get a whiff of his woodsy cologne. Your eyes welled up when you inhaled again and couldn’t smell him, doing your best to blink the tears away so he wouldn't catch them. It was silly that you suddenly missed the comfort of that smell because your nose was acting up.

He didn’t need your tears on top of that.

But, of course, he caught your sad sniffle, which sounded slightly different from your cold sniffle. His body stiffened, like a cobra ready to strike. “Tell me what’s wrong, even if I can’t physically fix it.”

God, I love this man.

“I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I really miss the smell of your cologne,” you told him, your gaze probably nothing short of pathetic as you tilted your head to see his handsome face.

Your breath caught when he looked back at you and brushed a tear away with his thumb. There was nothing but love and adoration in those brilliant eyes of his. It made you feel lighter.

“That’s far from ridiculous because I smell amazing,” he teased, bumping his nose against yours to bring a smile to your face. “How about I spray the blankets after you take a nap and I make you some soup? That way my scent will be there even if you can't smell it.”

Tears clogged your throat as you gave him a nod, committing the moment to memory. You were used to going it alone before he came into your life. He couldn’t take the pain away, but he could make you feel better in ways that mattered to you. That likely comforted him just as much as it soothed you.

“That would be great,” you said, yawning a bit. “Can we watch a movie after my nap?”

“We'll watch whatever you want.”

You pulled him close so he could join you on the couch, knowing that his muscular and warm frame against yours would feel just as comforting and safe as the blanket that covered you. And he relaxed and quickly accepted your wordless invitation to wrap his arms around you, keeping you in his loving embrace. It was home and always would be.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said, closing your eyes as you nuzzled your head against his bare chest. “I love you.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” he promised, his vibranium hand moving in slow circles along your back as you began to drift off. “I love you, too.”

You let out a happy moan before you said one more thing. “And hunt down the person who gave me this cold, okay?”

With your eyes shut, you didn’t see the determination written all over his face. “You got it, baby.”

You were right as rain and back to work a couple of days later, thanks to Bucky caring for you and some much needed rest. Not even an hour into your shift though, Steve requested for you to meet him in the second lower level. You didn't hide your surprise as that was usually reserved for interrogations.

Which was exactly why he called you down there.

“What's going on?” You asked as you walked into the viewing room. Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Tony all looked your way, but didn't give you any sort of response. “Seriously, what's up?”

“You don't know?” Natasha responded, nodding toward the glass.

You followed her gaze with a gasp as you saw Bucky tower over some blonde male agent in the cell. Your boyfriend was almost unrecognizable with his face devoid of any emotion, dominant and on the edge of terrifying. It was a far cry from the loving side you were privy to, yet you loved this side of him just the same.

“Buck dragged John down here a few minutes ago,” Steve explained in a quiet voice as he punched the bridge of his nose. “Said something about him hurting you.”

You tilted your head as you looked at John, recognizing him after a second due to his punchable face. “Him? No. He didn't hurt me. He just bumped into me the other day in the break room,” you explained. Which wasn't that big of a deal to you, but probably offensive to Bucky. “But he didn't apologize.”

He also had a cold.

Oh, no.

“So, you had nothing to do with this?” Sam asked, chuckling as you lifted your chin.

“No, I didn't,” you replied as you bit your lip. “At least, I don't think I had anything to do with this.”

Your heart raced faster when Bucky pushed the sleeves of his shirt up and gripped John by the collar, the veins in his right arm popping out. You wished you could lick them. Maybe later.

“I know it was you, you piece of shit,” he said, roughly shoving the agent back into his chair. “You got my girl sick.”

Oh, Bucky.

You stared straight ahead as you felt the group collectively look your way, refusing to react under their stares. “Before any of you say another word, this is definitely not my fault,” you stated.

“Of course it isn't,” Natasha smirked. She knew Bucky loved to play the hero on your behalf even though you could take care of yourself. “Just enjoy the show.”

Your mouth fell open as your boyfriend slammed his left fist on the table, leaving a sizable dent as John nearly fell backwards in his chair. This guy was an agent? He was either new to interrogations or simply scared shitless of the former assassin.

Maybe both.

But you ignored him as you shifted your attention back to your beefy, perfect boyfriend.

When you had mumbled for him to find the person who gave you the cold, you didn’t think he’d actually do it. You weren’t sure how he narrowed down to John, but the former assassin was resourceful and you should've known he'd take you seriously. And, fuck, if it wasn’t slightly mortifying on your behalf and hot as hell watching him in action.

“That cold you gave her made her cry. You made my girl cry. Do you know what I do to guys like you who make my girl cry?” Bucky said through his teeth, bringing his fist down on the table again as John flinched and you smiled. With all the strength he possessed, you never had to worry that he'd hurt you. But you couldn't say the same for the frightened agent. “You're about to find out.”

You didn't think you could love Bucky more after he helped you get over your cold, but he proved you wrong.

And you could now add Bucky threatening people to your list of things that made you dreamily sigh and tingle between your thighs.

“Look, I'm sorry. I’m sorry! All I did was bump into her. It was an accident!” John shouted, putting his hands up in surrender and trembling when Bucky stood to his full height and cracked his neck. Your boyfriend waited a beat before he grabbed one of his hands and began to twist, making the agent pale as you bit back a whimper. “Fuck, stop! I won’t even breathe around her again. I’ll hold my breath! Just let me go!”

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” Tony asked you, taking out his phone to type a quick message as you hummed. Maybe you were enjoying it. How many guys went out of their way to scare someone who possibly gave you a cold? “Does the Manchurian Candidate know how much I’ll have to pay to keep this guy from suing him?”

“We can tell him it was a prank?” Steve suggested, bringing another laugh out of Sam as Natasha shook her head.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he flung the hand away, his hair falling in his eyes as you held your breath. He looked like a wild animal, untamed and stunning. “I should choke you. Make you see how long you can really hold your breath before you pass out,” he snarled as John rubbed his sore skin.

Steve snuck a glance at you, his cheeks a little pink when you put a hand to your throat. “I don't want to overstep because you're my best friend's girl, but you do know you just moaned, right?” He whispered low enough for only you to hear.

Oops.

“Oh, my god,” you groaned, putting your warm face in your hands to hide your embarrassment for a moment. “Is anyone going to stop him?!”

“Why haven’t you stopped him?” Natasha countered knowingly.

Because I’m too busy thinking of how I’m going to suck his dick so good later that I'll make him see God.

You took a breath as the ache between your legs got stronger and pressed the button beside the glass. “Bucky?”

He swung his head toward the glass and met your gaze even though he couldn’t see you. No matter what, he’d always be able to spot you. “Hey, baby. I found the prick who gave you a cold. Want me to beat the shit out of him?” he bragged as John paled.

“I love you,” you giggled from how sweet and ridiculous he was. “And no. I appreciate you defending me, but I think you can let him go.”

Tony playfully rolled his eyes when Bucky grinned. “Your crazy matches his crazy.”

True.

“Okay. I love you, too,” Bucky said in a light tone, his smile falling the second he looked back at John and smacked the table against the wall with a clang. The agent looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “Next time you see my girl, apologize and walk away. And the next time you have a cold, stay the fuck home or you'll answer to me.”

Yeah. I’m going to suck the soul from his body to thank him for everything the moment we get home.

And maybe the two of you could take another sick day to spend the day in bed.

Totally normal boyfriend, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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blue-devil-of-the-lord · 5 months

Note

Hey there~ If you are still taking requests for Kurt Wagner imagines/scenarios, can I suggest one with a mutant who has plant powers? Plant manipulation is my go to power. Nothing specific, I just really want more Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler content 😊

Mother Nature

Kurt Wagner x reader Words: 1,6K A/N: Alright, first of my requests is done! I made some kind of mix between headcanons and oneshot because it just fit well in my opinion. Also, the gender wasn't stated so I tried to keep it neutral. Hope you like it :)

Let's start with some basics, shall we? In my opinion, Kurt would adore a partner with plant manipulation powers.

Yes, flying and teleporting are all well and good, but plant manipulation? He's absolutely fascinated and will watch you every time you use your powers. And don't you dare stop him watching...

You are, even if it's not immediately obvious, an incredibly powerful mutant. Control over plants means control over almost everything, trees, flowers, grass, even the earth if you try hard enough (through roots, of course). Kurt is a gentleman, of course, and it doesn't always sit right with him if you want to do certain things on your own that he could help with, but oh boy... If he doesn't get weak in the knees when you go into full mutant mode.

The first time he met you was in the old garden shed, which was pretty run-down. He hadn't really wanted to end up there himself, but in retrospect he is very grateful that he did. The professor had never really had time to look after the garden house, which is why you took on the task. And let me put it this way: the first time he saw your powers? The man was smitten from day one.

Plant nicknames. You won't escape them. Neither in German nor in English. “My flower”, “My lucky clover”, “My rose” but also references, especially to mythological creatures “Little garden fairy”, “Persephone”, .... The full program.

When he gives you plants - which he loves to do - he makes sure that they are planted so that you can enjoy them for a very long time. Kurt brings you plants from different cultures and countries, keen to give you as much diversity as possible. However, if he is forced to give you a bouquet of flowers, that's no problem either. You may prefer living plants, but hey - what can you manipulate plants for if you can't bring them back to life?

One disadvantage of your power is that you don't feel very comfortable in an environment without plants. It's fine in the institute, as it's mostly made of wood (dead, but still plant-based), but Kurt makes sure that there are always at least four living plants in your classroom as well as in his room.

Also loves listening to you. You teach a kind of mixture of theoretical biology and practical manual work in the gardens and there's almost nothing better for him than listening to you talk passionately about the plants. Or kneeling down in the garden bed, your eyes gleaming in the sunlight...

Should you move in together later? Be prepared for this man to go all out and fulfill your every request. Nothing is too good for you. Big garden? No problem. Plants all over the house? Already done. House in the country, surrounded by nothing but nature? Your wish is his command.

You have also quickly become his favorite training partner. And that's not just because Kurt can't keep his eyes and hands (and tail) off his partner. For one thing, it helps him to avoid moving objects, because he has learned the hard way how painful it can be to get an ivy tendril in the face. On the other hand, the two of you are simply perfectly attuned to each other. Kurt teleports a little too far to the left? Don't worry, the branch likes to stretch out a bit to catch him. The vine was a bit too short and not quite enough to catch you? Kurt is there to pick you up with ease. In other words, you don't want to compete against the two of you.

Kurt loves it when you make him flower necklaces or flower crowns. They last forever thanks to your power and as soon as you put them on his head? Don't expect him to take them off any time soon. He wears them with pride.

Kurt has always liked nature as he has traveled a lot in his life, but since he's been with you? He's become a huge fan of garden or nature dates. Whether it's a picnic outdoors, a walk in the woods or an afternoon in the greenhouse, he'll take it all. And if you do some magic with your power? He's in paradise.

Speaking of the greenhouse? Although it was initially your project, over time, especially after the relationship began, it has become your and Kurt's project. He doesn't know much about gardening, but he's willing to learn as long as that means continuing to listen and watch you.

Kurt materialized in the middle of the greenhouse and immediately the scent of the different types of flowers, of which he did not know the names, wafted towards him, but he knew that they made you happy and that was all that mattered to him. His eyes wandered around the open room, looking for you, and he realized again how much you had already done.

Yes, he had helped too, but it was you who had done the main work. Kurt still remembered the dead beds, the dried up earth and the broken sidewalks.

The glass panes were dirty and partly broken and the rain had caused mold to grow on some things. None of the garden utensils, the few that were at least there, were usable and pretty much everyone would have labeled this greenhouse a lost cause.

Not you.

You set to work yourself and improved everything yourself without using much of your powers. Kurt had caught you at the beginning of your project, so he was able to assess the improvement pretty well. You had cleaned and partially replaced the glass of the greenhouse - the latter admittedly with his help, as it was easier for him to reach the panes above - knocked out the path and replaced it with a loose, albeit well-kept, gravel path. The old borders of the beds were torn out and replaced with a large partition to the gravel path, allowing the plants greater freedom to grow.

One day you had grabbed Logan and Scott, Kurt had come along voluntarily, and had taken them to a gardening store to buy the necessary equipment and seeds. Logan and Scott had both grumbled while carrying them, Logan a little more than Scott, but your results were impressive.

Dozens, if not hundreds, of different plant species were growing neatly in every direction and it no longer resembled a greenhouse, but a rainforest that rivaled even the true jungle in diversity. Kurt smiled slightly and ran the tip of his tail over the soft petals of a red hibiscus flower.

You had made it possible for many plants to grow here, even if the conditions were not ideal, but they thrived under your guidance.

However, just as he was about to bend down to smell a new, previously unknown flower, a frustrated groan sounded, which seemed all too familiar. Kurt could already guess where you would be. He disappeared into a dark cloud and emerged not two meters behind you.

For a few moments he gazed at you lovingly as you knelt in front of the lily patch, but he quickly stepped towards you when he realized you were about to snap with anger (last time it had taken a week and a lot of affection from Kurt to remove the rampant thorny vines from the school grounds).

„Liebling," he knelt down next to you and tilted his head. "What's the problem?" You glared angrily at the beds in front of you and began to poke around in them with the shovel. "Snails. Snails are the problem. What's the point of being able to manipulate and grow plants if those blasted bastards eat all my lilies?"

Despite your frustration, Kurt had to smile. "You still haven't given up the fight."

"No," you replied, throwing another slug into the bucket next to you with a disgusted look on your face. "That's my greenhouse. Let them find their own."

Kurt couldn't help but find your behavior endearing and pulled you closer to him, even though you tried to fight it. You might be better with plants, but he was the stronger of the two of you, whether you liked it or not. "My love," he murmured in your ear and you gave up your fight, just snuggled up against him, pouting.

"You can't possibly remove all the slugs, the greenhouse is too big for that. Besides, it's late. Let's go back to the institute. I'll make us some hot chocolate, we'll snuggle up on the sofa and watch that movie you've been wanting to show me for weeks."

You hesitated but his tail wrapped around your middle and the tip slowly traveled up and down your side and Kurt knew he had won.

You groaned in defeat and grabbed the bucket, which you promptly emptied out of one of the windows and closed it. You cast one last angry look at the beds. "You may have won the battle, but I will be the victor of the war."

Kurt laughed softly, wrapping you in his arms again as his tail wrapped boldly around your waist. "You will." With a sweeping motion, he picked you up bridal style and pressed you tightly against him, making you squeal and then laugh. He pressed a soft kiss against your temple.

"Tonight, though, you're mine." You disappeared in a cloud of black and blue mist and let it be said, you didn't think about the creatures that had declared war on you for the rest of the evening.

#kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner #nightcrawler #xmen #x men #x men comics #x men the animated series #x men 97 #x men evolution #x men x reader #marvel #marvel x readre

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jaylaxies · 1 year

Text

HARD THOUGHT !

CW: smut, angst, manipulation, unhealthy relationship

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

REQUESTED BY: anonnie!

Possessive!Sunghoon who goes crazy at the mere thought of any other guy touching you, gripping the glass of wine with enough power to smash it into smithereens simply because he saw a man invading your personal space. What made him scoff was the faint smile playing on your lips instead of disgust, which was the reason why Sunghoon had dragged you out of the party, not sparing a glance towards the other guy, otherwise he would have punched him straight in the face, nor did he pay attention to your questions. The drive home was silent, as if it’d turn into a heated argument the moment you’d part your lips to speak, yet you were fuming inside, tired of his possessiveness and anger that came with it.

He stormed inside your shared apartment the second he parked the car, unbuttoning his shirt, a button almost falling out with how rushed his actions were, “you like it, don’t you? When others touch you, when others come close to you?” Sunghoon asked the second you stepped into the bedroom, eyes icy and darker than ever, jaw clenched in a way you hadn’t seen before. You shake your head in disbelief, “and you know nothing but jealousy and anger, I’m so done with you,” you seethed out, causing him to chuckle, taking a step your way, which caused you to take a step back, “so what? You’re gonna leave me? You’re gonna find someone else, is that what you’re gonna do, kitten?” He mocked, his body shaking as he tried to control himself, yet he took a step towards you again, his torso fully on display with his half unbuttoned shirt.

“Yes I will—” you tried to say, taking another step back, falling behind on your bed with no space left to walk, and Sunghoon was quick to get to top of you, his chain dangling in the process, caressing your clavicle, “damn right you will, I’d like to see you try, darling,” he whispers, dragging his lips from your ear to cheek, giving you goosebumps.

Even the miniscule things he did had your mind spiralling.

“Go on, try to find someone else, let’s see who makes you feel the way like I do,” his deep voice makes you gulp right when he kisses your throat, “I’ll ruin you to the point of no comeback, kitten,” he promises and all his slow actions turn into rough, rushed ones as he turns you over with ease, getting rid of your clothes and ripping off your dainty laced panties, his fingers getting soaked up in your wetness, “look at you all dripping when I haven’t even touched you,” he smirks, “even your body admits that you’re all mine, you’re fucking mine, understood?”

Your eyes rolled back to your head, as you gasped with the stretch his thick fingers provided you with, “you’ll never be satisfied with anyone else, baby, you can’t ever have anyone else’s cock in your pretty little cunt without thinking of me,” he said, spanking your ass, a tear falling down your cheek. It felt too good despite the anger lingering around, you knew he was right, that no one else could ever compare to him.

He switched your positions, eyes fixated on your eyes as he held your wrists above your head. He thrusted into you without any warning, your juices making it easy for him to bottom out in a single thrust as you moaned, your heartbeat dangerously fast, your skin hot as your pussy sucked him in, your hips rolling back to meet him halfway. “You. Are. Mine,” he said, pistoning into your cunt, and you let him, eyes closing shut when he pulled you into a rough kiss, possessiveness clear in them.

He was right, you couldn’t be anyone else’s, not when you’re obsessed with Sunghoon and his way to put you in your place, your orgasm finally bringing you back to his senses.

That you belong to him.

#ria:thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enha smut #kpop smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enhypen imagines #sunghoon x reader

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sour-leminies · 2 months

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Rebellious

Paring: James Hook x F!RoyalReader

Summary: Parents suck. That was something you had come to learn. You hated their expectations of you. You hated about how they controlled every aspect of your life. The only thing that they didn’t see coming nor you — was a pirate with an offer.

Warnings: Intense kissing. Drinking, cussing and even mentions of smoking.

Taglist: @unhealthy-obessions @4ng3l-ch1ld @herondale-lightworm @astrynyx @snixx2088 Just ask to be added!

3.7k WC

Navigation — other works!

I really, and I mean really hate today. I’ve gotten yelled at already from my parents for not wearing my tie, not a single kid in this school wears a uniform, but my parents still decided it was the biggest thing in the world. I was late to class, simply because people couldn’t walk faster in the halls. And now I was listening to this kid go on and on about himself.

For an assignment we paired up, teacher choice, and now while I did the work I had to listen to this boast about his castle. To be honest I wasn’t really listening, only zoning back in for a sentence or two before zoning back out.

My parents are visiting today, and that was all I could focus on. They showed up out of the blue as I was about to head to class. It’s not like them to show up at random – they always try to put distance between us ever since they declared I was a disappointment. Something I was grateful for.

At first being called a disgrace from my mother hurt, and being called a sorry excuse of a princess from my father burned. Now though hearing that from them made me happy, because I wanted to be nothing like them.

Then why was I still trying so hard to be perfect?

The loud laughs of kids snapped me back to reality and away from my thoughts. “Ugh, James Hook and his stupid crew.” My partner had said, clearly annoyed they were laughing and talking over him.

James Hook, a ruthless cut throat pirate who took rules and shoved them up people's asses. A man who did what he wanted, and didn’t give a damn about the consequences. He was everything I wanted to be.

“Excuse me?!” I looked to my partner – my eyes widening at the sound of him calling out to the loud group of pirates. “Can you shut up?” My jaw dropped at him, not only was he going to get himself in trouble he didn’t want, he was going to get me in it too.

“He didn’t mean that!” I said to the pirates who started to make their way over to our table. “He’s clearly not gotten enough sleep, and he’s very sorry.” Where was the teacher? I didn’t see her step out of the class, but she wasn’t at her desk or in the room.

The boy beside me went to speak again, but I stomped on his foot, drawing his attention while he whined about his ‘pretty toes.’

“You know this man, Lass?” My breath got caught in my throat at the sound of Captain Hook’s voice. I had heard him before, obviously I had, but this was the first time he talked to me. The first time he looked at me for so long.

I shook my head, my heart pounding as he got closer to me, walking around the table. “You can speak.” I knew that, but every time I tried my mouth got too dry for me to even say a word. Say the wrong word and who knows he may make me walk the plank and drown.

I nodded again, I couldn’t hear or see anyone else besides James Hook. I never even fully met him and he had already had a hold on me, a hold I desperately wanted back. “What’s your name?”

A sharp feeling on the bottom of my chin caused me to look up at the captain, while he used his hook to ensure I didn’t look away. His brown eyes remind me of a puppy, but the glint in them reminded me of a lion. Ready to snap. His eyeliner enhanced and deepened the color, a thought crossed my mind. One I immediately snapped out of my head.

Who knew men in eyeliner were so handsome.

“Y/N.” My answer was short, and direct. What I had wanted this interaction to be, but nothing was ever that simple was it?

“Hm.” He removed his hook, letting me let out a sigh of relief. “Take your things, and go work at my table while I have a little chat with your friend.”

Don’t listen to a pirate. My mother’s voice echoed in my head, and I finally didn’t give enough of a damn to listen.

–

I opened my dorm door, seeing my parents snooping through my things, making me sigh out. Today had been stressful enough. Hook never went back to his table, nor did the rest of his crew, but they had taken my partner out of the class and he didn’t come back at all.

“What are you two doing here?” I was tired of this, them. Wanting parents who will never want me back. Trying so hard, and getting nothing in return. Caring for them, when they didn’t give a shit about me.

“Always so quick to jump, Y/N. I didn’t raise you to be that.” You didn’t raise me at all. I wanted to scream that to them. That the daughter they were so disappointed in, was because they couldn’t raise her. Some people weren’t meant to be parents – and I had really wished they had enough self awareness before having me.

“What do you want mom?”

She released an annoyed sigh, while my father reached into his shirt before pulling out a scroll. “You're getting engaged.”

Time stopped. I couldn’t hear anything besides my heart thumping in my ears. What? I looked to my mom, seeing nothing there. This wasn’t my mother. I looked to my father – seeing nothing but boredom. As if coming to tell his daughter they are selling her away was nothing but a daily task. This wasn’t my father. These weren’t my parents, because I never had any.

“No.” My voice was raw, and rigged, like I was an animal in a cage waiting to bite. My mothers jaw set, before she grabbed the scroll from my father and threw it to me.

I caught it, and opened it briefly. “You will be married to king Midas son. You will sign this contract.” I threw it to the side before snapping my gaze back to the people in front of me. “I said no. Get over it! I’m not your little fucking pet fish you sell off to when you get tired of feeding it.”

“You insolent–”

“I’m not done!” I cut my father off. “You don’t like me? Too bad, you had me. I’m not marrying anyone. You want to cut me off, go ahead.” They think I’m some rebellious teenager, then that’s who I’ll be.

They sent ferocious glares my way and I knew that mean look in my fathers eye. He never once hit me, but he would hit maids, or anyone who annoyed him. He took a step closer to me, and I felt panic start to spread.

“You heard the lady.”

I looked to my right as James Hook walked in front of me, in between me and my father. “I think it’s best if you leave.” Was he mad? That was a king. And he didn’t care.

My father and James started – or more accurately glared at each other before my father, brushed past us and walked out through the wide open door.

I looked back to my mother, who was looking between us. Disgust in her eyes. “You have four months to sign that contract, or else–”

“Leave.” Hook cut her off, and made a point to grab the sword hilt that was attached to his hip. She shook her head before also storming out, slamming the door.

I looked back to James who started at me, eyes full of wonder, interest, and mischief. “You didn’t have to do that.” I felt my eyes water, this whole thing draining me. I didn’t do anything wrong, and yet I’m always punished.

A tear dropped down my cheek but was quickly wiped away by a warm, and rough hand. “Don’t cry. You were so strong.” He stepped closer to me, his voice surprisingly in a low, deep and soft whisper. “Don’t give them the satisfaction of breaking you.”

I looked down to the floor where I had thrown the stupid scroll, “They hate me.” And I didn’t even know why.

“So make them hate you even more.” I looked back to the pirate, confusion all across my face. “It’s a lot easier to get someone to hate you than love you.” Yet I had a strong feeling that it was easy for James Hook to get people to love him.

He gave my head a pat before making his way out of my room, before I even had a chance to ask what he was doing in my room in the first place.

–

I took a seat on the outskirts of the campus, the image of a certain contract stuck in my head. I didn’t burn it, I couldn't, I was too afraid. Yesterday was suppose to be my push, but fuck it seemed like I need a bigger one. How much bigger could you get?

I had basically told my parents to go f themselves. Now I don't know what to do, I’m at a loss. I grabbed one of the over salted fries and stuck it in my mouth. Food was my comfort, and I loved salt but even I knew these were way too salty.

“Hello Lassie!” I looked over my shoulder to see a pirate dressed in red making his way over to me. What was he doing over here? He was a popular if not the most popular guy in school, Hades would be his only contest in bad boy charm.

“Hook.” He leaned down, plucking a fry off my plate before pulling me up as well. “Mmm, those are perfectly salted. Okay now I know he’s crazy.

“I have an idea for you.” Before I could even question him, or say ‘any idea of yours is mad’ his voice started to pick up.

He moved me away from where my food was now being eaten by ants and more over to the flower filled field.

“I know what you want from me, I know what you want from me.”

He bent down, picking a deep red rose.

“So if you wanna piss off your parents, date me to scare them. Show them you're all grown up.”

He handed me the rose, and twirled me around.

“If long hair, and tattoos are what attract you. Baby you’re in luck.”

He grabbed me and gave me a slight twirl.

“And I know it’s just a phase. You’re not in love with me.”

Setting me back on the ground, he lowered his voice, letting it fade out.

“You wanna piss off your parents, baby piss off your parents. That’s alright with me.”

“You're actually mad.” I scoffed at him, but couldn’t help the slit tilt of my lips. “I prefer bloody genius.” I lightly shook my head before handing him back his rose that smelled devine. “Thanks for your help with my parents yesterday. But it’s my problem not yours.” Just because I’m a princess doesn't mean I need someone to be my knight in shining armor.

“And I’m offering you a solution, love.” He tilted the rose back to be, encouraging me to take it, and his idea. “What's the worst that can happen? You’ll fall in love?”

I grabbed the rose, only because I knew he couldn’t take care of it. “Sorry pirate, I’d never love you.”

“Sounds like my cup of tea.”

–

I pushed the pillow further on my head at the constant knocking of the door. I was silently pleading for my roommate, Belle, to get the door. However as I looked up and over to her bed, I noticed her absent presence.

The knocking started up again, causing me to scream out into my pillow in frustration. It was a weekend, a very rare, and free weekend where I could relax. Slugging myself out the bed, I muttered every curse word I knew before yanking my door open.

“Hello, love, good day to hit the woods no?” I rested my head on my door, slightly whining. “What do you want, Hook?”

“How about a smile.” Oh my god he’s actually a dick. “I want you to get change, wear black – or red –” He smirked at that before continuing his list of demands. “Then you're going to come with me, and I’m going to show you what fun actually looks like.”

“That’s all?” My eyes felt swollen shut from dreariness. “That's all, now chop chop, off ya go.” I hate pirates.

–

Correction, I hate James Hook.

He took me to a party. Though he was such a gentleman about it, I’ll have to say. Located in the black forest, where it always looked night – he made sure to help me walk. That was the only redeeming quality about this party.

People were doing all sorts of things, from dancing, to drinking, to making out, etc. Definitely a villain kind of party. “Hook, I don't think this is my scene.” I rubbed my arms nervously, I felt like a needle in a haystack.

“No, this isn’t your parents' scene. I promise once you calm down you’ll have fun. Trust me.” Everyone was taught not to trust a pirate, but I couldn’t help but do so.

He reacted to his jacket before pulling out a flask, “here, don’t drink anything besides what I give you.” I nodded, engraving his words to my brain to not forget them. I twisted off the cap, taking a sip and immediately feeling the burn going down my throat causing me to cough. “The hell is that?”

I never had liquor before, but that tasted like acid with a twinge of something else.”Rum, the best.” I couldn’t help the laugh leaving me – finally letting out a sigh, and my discomfort. “You stupid pirate.”

–

I think I’m drunk. I’m not sure, but I can’t really see or more accurately focus.

“Alright lass time to get you home.” I looked over to where the voice came from, my eyes finally focusing on a very handsome man. “Hiii.” I gushed, my cheeks red. This man had a very attractive laugh, I thought as he laughed in my ear while bending down – picking me up.

“I’m a princess!” I said, loudly, as we walked out this stupid sea carcass thing. Why would they hang out in a dead sea fish? Not very sanitary. “Aye lass, a very pretty one.” This handsome man thinks I’m pretty.

–

Over the next three months Hook and I continued to “date”. It was surprising how easy it was to hang out with his friends. I had expected Hades to burn me alive or something with one of his cigarettes, but everyone – even the sea witch Uliana was pretty welcoming.

After I woke up the next morning from that first party Hook took me too. I had decided I hated drinking, and would not be doing it again. Something James laughed at. Tonight the vk’s were throwing some kind of party, I don’t know why – but I had opted out.

Usually James and I would spend late nights together, if not at my dorm than at his. We would lay on the bed, and it was weird – because our dating was supposed to be fake and to piss off my parents, but even when no one was around he’d hold my hand. Or we would cuddle, even though our roommates were out. He’d kiss my hand at random times – hug me at others and it all felt real.

We had felt real and I had realized I was falling for him. Hard.

A knock at the door pulled my attention from the fire crackling in my fireplace and to the dark oak door. Belle was having a date with her beast, but even then she had a key to get in.

Standing I opened the door, prepared to laugh at Belle for being forgetful but instead I was met with a Handsome pirate that I had actually wanted to call mine. “James.” He ditched his coat, and had his sleeves rolled up. Exposing his forearms, where his veins were showing. He had ditched his hook and replaced it with a guitar.

“Mind if I come in?”

No, not at all. Instead of saying it though I just moved out the way and opened the door more. The captain walked past me and sat on my bed. I closed the door, before I too made my way to my bed.

This would be normal for us, him playing piano, or even guitar while I listened. Though he would never leave a party that he needed to be there for. I’m pretty sure it was something about it being a blood moon or something to do with the moon.

His finger danced across the strings, and his deep rich voice started to fill the silence while the orange of the fire highlighted his skin.

“I met you in the dark. You lit me up. You made me feel as though I was enough.”

My breath hitched at the sound of his voice. I could feel my heart in my ears, but it was in the best way possible.

“We danced the night away, we drank too much.”

I didn’t know who he was singing about, but at the same time everything he said felt so familiar.

“I held your hair back when you were throwing up.”

He finally looked back up at me, his eyes achingly beautiful. In this moment I knew I had loved him. I loved him more than the world can even express itself.

James Hook POV

“Then you smiled over your shoulder. For a minute I was stone cold sober.”

The night I knew I fell in love with her played through my head and out into the song. The first night I took her to a party and she got black out drunk.

“I pulled you closer to my chest, and you asked me to stay over. I had already told ya; I think you should get some rest.”

This woman has made me question every single moral, this woman has made me question who I am. Was I still a ruthless villain – yes, just not to her. I couldn’t be.

Y/N L/N was the definition of my saving grace, and I loved her like I breathed. Naturally, effortlessly, and most of all needing.

“I’m so in love with you, and I hope you know.”

God I couldn’t wait another moment. I needed her to know that I truly love her, that she made this darkened heart beat.

“Darling, your love is more than its weight in gold.”

When the final strings of my guitar played out, I was ready to pour my heart out to her. Ready to tell her how she taught me how to love. How love wasn’t enough to describe how I felt about her.

But this damn woman beat me to it.

Normal POV

“I love you.” I said the second he stopped playing. Fear struck my heart, he might not love me back – but I’ll be damned if he doesn't know how much I care for him. “I know I told you that I could never love a pirate, but the truth is you have stolen my heart and I don’t want it back. I know you might not feel–”

My words fell, and his lips absorbed them. I didn’t know when he threw down the guitar, but he was kissing me.

His lips were soft, gentle, and his kiss was full of love.

“I’d go to the end of the earth for you. I love you so much, and don’t you for a damn second consider that I don’t.” I smiled at him. I was happy – finally so happy. Tears laced my eyes, and I let them fall, because James Hook didn’t only want my strength, he wanted my weakness as well. He wanted all of me. Just as I wanted all of him.

I pulled his face back to mine, kissing him desperately. This one was rougher, sexier. Full of things I didn’t even know but wanted to explore with him.

His hand pushed through my hair, as he slightly gripped it and tugged. Causing me to gasp. He took that as an invitation, his tongue brushing against mine. He pushed himself forward, pushing me back onto the bed, using his other hand to keep him from crushing me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, sighing out as he kissed down my neck. Everything in this moment felt right. It was cut short by the sound of the door opening, and the sound of Belle screaming out sorries.

James let out a groan of pure annoyance, while I laughed – giving him a peck. His gaze softened, and he hugged me. Letting him fall into me caused me to release a groan while he laughed.

Belle had run back out the door, and so I pulled him up off me and led him over to the fireplace. I opened a box placed on top of it, and grabbed a scroll out of it.

“This is a marriage contract that, if I signed, would marry me to King Midas' son, and grant me royal immunity.”

James swallowed thickly, fear laced in his eyes, and I swore his eyes glazed over with water.

“Burn it.”

The fear was replaced with confusion as he looked at me lost. “What?” He asked. I placed the scroll in his hand before pressing a kiss to his lips.

“The only man I’ll ever marry is a pirate that goes by Captain Hook and has a drinking problem.” He wasted no time in throwing the scroll into the hot flames before he picked me up and twirled me. “Marry you I shall.”

—

A/N: I’m actually really proud of this one.

#decendents #decendents masterlist #decendents x reader #hook #hook decendents #hook x reader #james hook #james hook masterlist #james hook x reader

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

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another idea for dr crane but i'm afraid it might be too similar to thoughtless so please just ignore if it is!!: from personal experience, being a patient of his who is seeing him bc of sexual trauma. fear of penetration due to previous sexual assault. and ofc he's all about exposure therapy. and you wanna trust him so so bad bc he wants what's best for you, he's encouraging you ("you deserve to embrace your sexuality, you get past this one barrier and you're free"), but you start to fight back. and he takes personal offense bc he's your doctor, why don't you trust his expertise? but then it starts to feel good~

idk i picture reader trying with a toy in front of him but he gets impatient sees she's struggling with going that extra step further so he takes control either with the toy or himself.

warnings: not actually that dark (I mean, it is cause he's her therapist lol but he's not nonconning her) but still manipulation, slightly medical kink?, praise kink

(oops this turned out pretty long how did that happen? lmao)

"Did you try what we discussed last week?" he asked, and you pressed your knees together as you looked down and shook your head. "Really? You seemed very positive about it before."

"I was," you admitted. "It seemed really easy-- just sort of training myself, you know. But then I got home and... I guess it was a little overwhelming."

"Hm," he said, and you started to feel guilty for disappointing him. "That's interesting-- it seems like you were more comfortable here than at home. I figured it would be the other way around."

"Yeah, that would make more sense, I guess," you shrugged, "but-- I dunno..."

"Do you want to try again?" he wondered.

"I do," you admitted, "but I'm nervous that I'll start panicking again..."

"Then why don't you try here?"

You tensed up at just the suggestion; "Wouldn't that be... I mean, isn't that...?"

"I'm a medical doctor," he reminded you with a chuckle, "I've seen much worse. This is simply part of your treatment. I want you to get better."

You took a deep breath, nodding. "Okay," you decided. "Okay, I can try it."

"Great," he smiled, uncrossing his legs and resetting his clipboard in his lap. "We agreed before that you'd be more comfortable with your fingers than silicone dilators, is that still--?"

"Yes," you interrupted, "definitely. Feels too... clinical, otherwise."

He nodded, and there was a brief silence.

"So, do I just... start?"

"I'd like you to try," he said gently.

You noticed that his gaze never broke away from you, but you looked down into your lap as you started to slowly spread your legs. "So I just.. reach under my dress?"

"That should be fine," he encouraged. "There's nothing to be afraid of-- this is a safe space."

You nodded in agreement, pulling up your dress enough to reach into your panties. Sighing, you tried not to let nerves get the better of you as you pushed your lips apart with your fingers. But still, the anxiety was bubbling up, and you pressed the tip of your finger to your hole only to feel resistance alongside your distress. "I-- I don't think I can--"

"It's alright," he soothed, "start with the outside first-- stimulate your clitoris."

You choked on a laugh, still too nervous to look at him. "You really are a medical doctor..."

"What, too formal?" he chuckled. "Alright... rub your clit."

That shocked you even more than the clinical language; but it made you pulse inside, too. "O-okay..."

You pressed your fingers against the bud, trying to rub it, but it didn't really feel like anything-- like rubbing your elbow or something. Jonathan corrected you right away: "Not so hard," he said, "start gently."

"Sorry," you breathed, shutting your eyes.

"No-- it's fine," he assured, "I just want to help."

He was right, though; when you lessened the pressure and gently rubbed in circles, it started to feel good-- slowly, but surely. When your next breath came out shaky, you heard him hum with satisfaction.

"Is that better?" he asked.

"Yes," you answered, but you didn't mean for it to be a moan.

"I think you're ready," he informed you-- and something about his voice, it was lower than before, it was different... it was making you wet.

"Ready... for what?" you whispered, daring to open your eyes and see the darkness in his expression as he watched you.

"Ready to fuck yourself with your fingers."

"Oh," you sighed, feeling like you'd been punched in the gut-- in the best possible way. "Okay..."

"Just one to start," he encouraged, "put a finger inside yourself, nice and slow."

You sighed as you pressed the finger up to your hole again, smiling as you realized it was more open-- and wet-- than before. You gently pressed in further, finding some pressure but pushing through it until you were knuckle deep in yourself. You smiled happily; "I did it," you breathed, "oh my god, I-- I never thought I'd--"

"Don't stop," he cooed, "move it back and forth. If you do well enough, you can add a second finger."

You figured he meant it that you would be able to add a second finger, but it almost sounded like a bargain, like a reward. Do what I say and I'll let you add a second, or something. Surely that wasn't what he meant.

"A little faster," he encouraged as you pumped the finger. "That's it, very good."

You whimpered, biting down on your lip to hide your moan. You wanted him to say that again, to tell you that you were doing this correctly.

"Add the second now," he instructed, his own voice suddenly sounding a little hoarse and needy. "Stretch yourself out-- and tell me how it feels."

"It feels good," you panted as you started to add your second finger, whining at the stretch. "Fuck, I-- will they both fit?"

He chuckled a little-- a low, rough sound-- and promised you: "Yes, they'll fit. You can take a lot more than two fingers, with some patience."

You hadn't even imagined being able to do more than this-- for years, you hadn't been able to put anything inside you, and now here you were... fingering yourself in front of your therapist. "How much more?" you wondered, hardly imagining how it could be possible.

There was a long, long pause; you worried he hadn't heard you. Looking at him again, you found him watching with a tight jaw.

"How much more can I take, Dr. Crane?" you asked again.

"You can take anything I give you," he answered tensely.

A shiver ran up your spine; "F-fuck," you whimpered, and your walls pulsed around your fingers.

"You're going to come, aren't you?" he noticed, and you nodded. "Good."

You gasped.

"Very good," he egged you on, seeing the effect it had on you; your head tilted back as you pushed your fingers into yourself faster. "You're doing very well for me-- now I just need to see you come. I just need you to make yourself come."

"Yes, yes," you chanted, hips rocking, moans growing louder. "It feels good-- fuck, Doctor, I--"

"I know," he soothed, "just let it happen. Keep going. Come for me."

It hit you all at once, a heavy and numbing feeling that left you shaking on his couch; he purred out his praises, telling you how good you were doing, and it only made the feeling stronger.

When you exhausted yourself, you stilled; there was a moment of silence, just your panting filling the air, until you found the strength to meet his gaze again. He was smiling at you sweetly, looking oddly similar to how he always did at the end of a session. "That was incredible progress," he said proudly. "You should be very impressed with yourself."

You sighed as you nervously pulled your fingers out of yourself. "I-- do you have a tissue I can wipe these with?" you asked nervously.

"No need," he said, "you should taste it."

"Wh-what?" you choked out, your face even warmer than before.

"Just taste it-- I think you'll like it," he encouraged.

Though you hesitated for a second, you brought your wet fingers to your lips and gently licked off some of the sticky substance left behind.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"It's sort of strange," you admitted.

"It's an acquired taste," he shrugged, making your heart pound as you realized just from the look in his eyes that this was absolutely a taste he'd acquired... then again, there must have been a reason that he knew even better than you how to touch yourself and make you come.

Then, it was impossible not to imagine what he's like when he does this off the clock-- the way he touches and pleasures the women he takes to bed. You imagined him with his fingers inside lace panties, whispering in her ear about how good she was being for him; you imagined him pushing two inside and promising to give her more; you imagined him making her come, over and over, until he's satisfied and brings those soaked fingers to his lips and calling her delicious.

And even though you tried not to picture who that woman would be, you couldn't help but wonder if he'd like a woman like you... if you were the type he'd do that to, if you weren't his patient.

"Thank you," you blurted out. "I never thought I'd be able to... thank you. It's been a long time since I was able to feel that."

He nodded. "Thank you for trusting me," he replied. Glancing at the clock, he sighed a little through a polite smile: "Oh, look at that, we're out of time for today. This has been a really excellent session."

"Yeah," you agreed as you both stood up, "definitely."

"And next week, we can discuss the next steps in your recovery."

You raised your eyebrows when you heard that, already almost halfway out of the office. "Next steps?" you noticed.

"Yes," he agreed, "you made great progress, but there's still so much more for you to learn."

#jonathan crane fic #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #scarecrow x reader

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sniigura-archive · 4 months

Text

running ; leaving ; no one will stay

Adam x Fem! Reader

Summary: The only condolences you have is that Adam is worse than you.

Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4

CW/TW/Tags: COLLEGE AU!!!, Male masturbation, stalker behaviour, TW Adam, adam is really weird ok, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, slight vvoilence (against adam), toxic and abusive elements , nudes (conseual), tell me if i missed smth!!, obgyn appointment, copper iud, (nothing detailed)

Adam was sure that he hates you.

His teeth bit down on his lip, nearly drawing blood. The picture in his hand crumbled, while the thumb from his other hand massaged his tip. He threw his head back, into his pillow. If he tried hard enough, he could still catch your scent on his pillows.

You have been plaguing his mind since the first fucking semester. It’s pathetic, really. He should get his shit together. How he tried to get you out of his mind, with other girls.

He remembers one who used the same perfume as you, how he pressed her against an alley wall after a concert. Turning her away from him, because she might have smelled like you, but she wasn’t even half as pretty. Another one who looked similar enough, with enough drinks in his system it was easy to imagine. He might have looked into her face while fucking her, but he still commanded her to shut the fuck up. Her voice was grating his ears.

There were many more situations like that, one time he recalled, how he slipped up and called a girl by your name. That shit sure was humiliating, he had to give her a pretty sum to shut her up. He was sure that he didn’t bother to make any of them cum. He wished to overstimulate you back tho.

He squeezed the base of his dick, feeling how harder he got at the thought of you. Adam wasn’t sure what he preferred, having you be in control or him controlling and bending your fuckable body to his will. Both are amazing views, which come with mind blowing pleasure.

Adam groaned while focusing his eye back on the bikini pic in his hand. Fuck. He wouldn’t have to be a common thief, if you posted more on your social media. It wasn’t his first time attempting to follow your account, it’s just the first time you accept his request. He follows already all your friends, he screenshots and screen records whatever he can get his hands on and, oh, how much he wants to beat Judas ass for still having couple pics of you posted.

He’s one pussy whipped fool.

Jesus, he’d much prefer your pussy sucking him in, with that vice fucking grip it got. Adam sped up his hand motions, the fantasy of simply you and your pretty pussy got him close. His cock was leaking pre cum, helping him to smoothly run his fingers over his veins. He needed you, badly.

But someone has been ignoring him for what now? A week? Unanswered messages and calls, straight up not even looking at him when he looks for you on campus. It pisses him off beyond belief. He extra bought you a new phone, and he knows it arrived at your place. Still, you’re walking around phone-less. Stubborn whore. Don’t bitches usually love pink? Ungrateful as fuck. Especially since it’s the newest model out there, way better than whatever piece of shit you got.

Judas gets a scowl, an eye roll when you see him. Him tho? He gets nothing. Not your hate, not your love. Pure horrible indifference. He needs you to look at him, it doesn’t matter why or with what intention. If Adam isn’t the center of your attention he feels like he might actually die.

Adam’s breath hitched at the feeling of his thumb playing with his prince albert piercing, he remembered the feeling of your tongue playing with the piercing. Your teary eyes looking up at him, gagging and choking around him, while he bullied his thick cock further down your throat.

He dragged the nails of his other hand across his thigh, trying to hold out longer. The effect the simple thought of you has on him is downright humiliating. His thoughts started to wander, to the fight you two had. Ugh. He wishes the mere mention of the guy wouldn’t tick him off like that.

Adam thought of a time before you, when he still lived with his father and life was great. When Eve didn’t betray him and he could stick his head in the sand. Before he became aware. Sometimes he considers sleeping with another girl, one of your look alikes, but when he thinks about it he feels sick to his stomach. At least he had his list of porn stars which look familiar enough to you.

Once he learned about Eves cheating, when he tried to forgive and forget, he tried to get revenge. In the end he couldn’t pull through, not even showing up for the date with another girl. Ghosting her completely. He remembers literal bile raising up in his throat, even though Eve hurt him like that, he couldn’t do the same to her.

So now, because of his hardcore monogamy ways, he can’t even sleep with a girl that isn’t you.

His mind wandering back to you caused his dick to twitch involuntarily. Adam bit his lip, focusing his movements towards his tip. He won’t last for much longer.

It never really matters what Adam thinks about, in the end he always ends up thinking about you.

Adam groaned when he felt the known feeling of euphoria wash over him, making sure to cum all over the picture. Covering your picture form made him feel some what better, imagine the real you marked up like that made him sigh. Another thing to put on his mental list of to dos with you.

If you take him back, that is.

He has to get a solid plan done, or else it’s over for him. He’d have to move back in with his mother, to keep his sanity. That would be horrible, having to tell Sera of all people about his heartache. He’d rather fight against Lute blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back than to open up to that tower of a woman.

Adam groaned while looking at his dirty hand. Damn it. He would have rather have his cum inside your pussy, or your mouth or all over your skin. He would have loved to have you beside him. Fucking hell. IF ONLY YOU WOULD ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE.

—————————

Your friends were constantly nagging you about what the fuck happened between you and Adam. You’re surprised they haven’t notice the bruise on your wrist yet, maybe they did and just have the decency not to ask you…….No, they would have put one and one together and would have straight up jumped Adam in some random alley way.

So, like, hurray for concealer and chunky, cheap, bracelets.

Well, at least Adam looks to be miserable. From what you have been told, he’s more pissy than usually during training. He’s constantly venting to Lute, who is always rolling her eyes, sadly your friends can’t quite make out what he’s always complaining about.

To be honest, you’re also miserable. There’s only so much your fingers can reach, and non of it are the places Adam rubs his base against. UGHHH, you can’t get that asshole out of your head. God, who the fuck breaks a phone and punches a hole in your wall??? Your security deposit…………

The phone Adam sent to you was pretty, pretty expensive. Jesus. The note attached to it read “pussy too good not to text her back”. What a charismatic guy! Very much marriage material. Fucker.

Avoiding him was hard too, for a big guy he’s pretty sneaky. You have to be hyper aware of your surroundings. Or, well, you try to be. Big emphasis on try. There’s only so many times you see his car drive past your apartment complex and place of work before you were starting to lose your mind.

Feeling someone tap you on your left shoulder, you quickly turned around only to see no one. Your brows furrowed before you heard a familiar laughter come from your right side. Ah, shit. Men really can’t leave you alone. Maybe your pussy is that good……..

Looking into the warm, brown eyes of your exes made you frown. You need some sort of men repellent.

Judas was 5”11 tall and he tells everyone he’s 6”3, he had brown, bronze skin and shoulder length, wavy, dark hair which he wears in a middle part. He was build rather lean, with some sort of muscle definition. Man, you really have a type. Tall, dark and handsome. No wonder Adam was able to spin your head around like that. It’s either good or bad for you that Adam excepts a certain aesthetic in the band, so Judas had a similar style to Adam.

Fuck, they really conditioned you to like rock guys who are sexy and toxic.

Who is they you might ask? My chemical romance when you were 13, mostly.

“What the hell do you want?” You couldn’t help but hiss at Judas.

Your nerves were fried. You’re done for, if Judas can sneak up on you, so can Adam easily. You should stay at home to recalibrate yourself. But Uni doesn’t wait for anyone, at least your assignments got done during your attempt to get negative energy out of your body.

“Woah! What’s up with you? I come in peace, I prommy! Wanna hear what wild thing just happened to me?” He smiled at you, while he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Ugh, if you fuck off forever after telling me, I’m all ears.” You massages your temples, while making your way to the bus station to get home.

Judas laughed at you, “You have to image, sweetie, I was at band practice. Right, and fucking Adam is throwing one of his famous temper tantrums. Can you image that he attempted to beat me up?? I swear on it! He accused me of hitting woman? Dude, what the fuck, am I right?…How could he think that? I’m genuinely so fucking lost….” He was scratching his head.

Oh my fucking god.

One thing Adam is talented at sure is jumping to conclusions. Ohhhhhhhh. What the hell. He wanted to beat up Judas??….Well better Judas than you. Man you’re a horrible person. You and Adam it’s a match made in hell. Back to therapy.

Halting suddenly in your steps, you immediately turned around.

You’re all about avoidance. It’s not because you’re not into confrontation, its simply because you lose your shit easily. Embarrassingly easily. And you were going to lose it on Adam, for real now. He’s done for, you were going to murder him. Where the fuck is he?

“Judas, I wish he would have smashed your lying mouth in. Leave me be now.” And with that you left for your pursuit on Adam.

Adam studies Economics and Management, the building is all across campus for that. Ok, think. Judas just came to you, probably directly from band practice. The room for that isn’t far. Time to embarrass yourself and Adam in public by yelling at him till you got ride of the anger cursing through your veins. God you wanted to smash his face in.

With quick and long strides, you made your way towards the practice room. Your angry steps echoed trough the empty hallway, since it’s evening most students are gone by now. The sun started to slowly set. All you wanted for today was to go home, watch porn ( while thinking of Adam) and pass out. But no!!! The universe punishes you. What did you do to deserve someone like Adam. He’s pure temptation. UGHHHHHH………Worst part of it all is, is that you still want Adam.

Reaching the practice room, you heard a guitar riff come from the inside. So Adam should be in there. Besides the guitar, you could hear some voices talking. You couldn’t make out what is being said. It doesn't matter to you anyway.

Throwing the door open, it crashed carelessly into the wall. Adam and Lute both looked rather surprised at your appearance. Adam more than Lute. Before Adam could open his mouth to say something, you decided that Adam shouldn’t speak,

“What the hell is wrong with you, huh!? You tried to beat up Judas? For what?! Some crazy delusions you made up in your twisted fucking mind?!” You couldn’t help but yell out. Your whole body was on fire and you felt your stomach fill with lava.

Still, you felt cold to your soul.

“…That fucking snitch.” Was the only thing Adam muttered, after making eye contact with Lute.

Taking a book from the shelf beside you, you made sure to aim at Adam’s head when you threw it at him. He was barely able to dodge, “You bitch! I think you threw enough fucking things at me, ungrateful cunt!” He quickly put his guitar away, throwing it beside him on the couch.

He stood up now, pointing a finger at you while he glared at you. In your opinion, he has no right to be mad, while you have EVERY right to be mad.

“I think not! Your head needs to be fucking….Adjusted! Ugh! Are you insane?!” Your hands were moving wildly, while you tried to search for words.

“Well, he fucking deserved it didn’t he?” Adam’s voice was sharp, while he took a few steps forward.

“Let me tell you this, Adam, between the two of you assholes, you’re the only one who left bruises one me!” While you spoke, you pushed down your bracelets. Even though it has been a week, it your skin was still tinted in an ugly colour, “Stay out of my life!”

Without bothering to see their reactions, you turned around, leaving the room. Slamming the door shut behind you, for extra dramatic flair.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So.

That went

Well?

You were going to end it, for real. You’re so done with being alive. Fuck this. You need to quickly get home. Dragging your hands over you face, you took deep breaths while making your way out of the building.

If you weren’t so focused on leaving and calming down, you probably would have heard Adam following you, with his own quick steps. Sadly for you, Adam is fast and silent. A deadly combo.

Before you could properly react, Adam had you trapped in a small broom closet with him. Great.

He was breathing rather heavily, while his hands grasped your shoulders gently. Probably to make sure you wouldn’t run away,

“I gotta give it to you, baby, you really know how to get my attention.” Adam smiled at you, while his hands were rubbing at your shoulder. His hands started to wander, from your shoulder to your waist, briefly brushing over your breasts,

“Let’s make up, sweet thing…I know you want to.” His voice was a purr, right besides your ear. He smelled good. Grasping Adam’s own shoulder into your hands, it really was a shame for him to you don’t easily forgive and forget. Since you aren’t Jesus.

Shoving at Adam, his back and the back of his head hit the wall. Before he could react, you got on your tippy toes, to bit his neck. Hard. While you dug your nails into his arms.

“Fucking hell!” Adam grasped your arms into his hands, forcefully tugging you away from him, “The fuck is wrong with you?!”

“What?! Isn’t that what you wanted, huh? I agreed to sex, not affection.” You grasped Adam by the collar of his shirt, tugging at it with all your might. Showing off more of Adam’s skin, you were ready to bit down again.

Adam shoved you away, before you could bite him again. He held you at an arm length distance, looking into your wild eyes. Adam took a few breaths, trying to calm himself down. His brows were furrowed, while he studied your face intensely.

“..What’s up, baby?” Adam quietly asked you, as if he had fucking amnesia.

You couldn’t even form a proper word, you stuttered around, before you winded yourself out of his grip and turned towards the door. The door opened barley a gap, before Adam’s hand came down, right besides your head and slammed the door shut. Jesus. You flinched so hard, you think you realigned all your chakras in that one move.

When you turned your back towards the door, looking up at Adam with big eyes. He quickly removed his hand from the door, pinching his nose bridge. He carefully put his open hands in-front of his body, before he slowly exhaled his breath through his nose. Nothing makes him more sick than to see you scared.

“Okay, fuck, alright…” Adam slowly got on his knees before you. He looked into your eyes while he lowered himself to the floor.

The moment seemed frozen like that, Adam kneeling down while looking up to you. While your breathing calmed down, you felt the tension leave your body. Slowly but surely. You flexed your dominant hand, while looking at Adam.

Adam carefully moved his one hand, holding it open before your bruised wrist. You swallowed heavily, your fingers twitched, moving it towards Adam’s hand. You flinched away for a moment, before exhaling heavily and putting your hand into his.

Adam felt the stress evaporating from his mind, he can still safe this. He kissed your knuckle, as a gesture of thanks. Gently moving your bracelets to the side, he took a look at the fading bruise. He frowned, while brushing his thumb over it.

“..Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore.”

“Hmm, don’t worry about, baby, we can cover this up with some pretty pearls.”

“Dude, no.” You started to shake your hand out of Adam’s grasp. He didn’t seem to want to let you go.

“Why? You more of a diamond type of girl?” Adam let your hand reluctantly go, his hands went to your thighs.

“No, I’m more of an apologise kind of girl.”

“Ughhhh, I did nothing fucking wrong! You bitches and your fucking apologies…Have you thought about apologising to me, bitch?! Who fucking laughs at someone when they get asked out on a date?! Of course I only end up liking cold hearted whores…” Adam, after his little outburst, catches himself again. He nuzzled his check into your stomach, with his bend back. Alright.

“Well, then at least tell me what freaked you so out? Like, I still don’t know what even happened! Big words from you..” You told him sternly. Adam looked at you like you just shoot him.

“Babyyyyy, let’s just forget this whole thing happened,” Adam started tugging at the waist band of your sweatpants, the smile on his was more of an painful grimace “Let me eat you out till you can’t think anymore. I’m sure I can make you cum at least three times before my jaw locks in…” He was already shoving his face into your crotch. He reminded you of a dog.

Adam nudged his big nose right against your clit, making you moan. Shit. You grasped Adam’s hair and tugged him away from your clothed pussy. He straight up whined at that. Oh my god……He needs to stop being so hot. You’re dying. Where’s the version of you who wanted to pull through on that celibacy promise? You need to channel her.

“Stop that.” You simply hissed at him. You let get off his hair.

“What the fuck do you want from me?! You don’t want me to buy you shit and you don’t wanna fuck! What fucking else can I give you?!” He yelled at you. His fist hammered against the door, you felt the vibrations against your back.

You couldn’t explain why, but your heart tugged for him, “What was on my phone?” You decided on carefully asking him.

“That fucking bitchass Lucifer! As always, out to ruin my fucking life! He already ruined it, thrice! Can you fucking believe that?!! And he’s still slobbering all over my dick and sloppy seconds!”

“………….Lucifer, like, the devil…from the Bible…?” Maybe Adam is more unwell than you thought………..Can you leave safely through the door?

“No!..Fuck, maybe he is….Well, he’s just as fucking horrible as the devil!” That sure was a statement!

“I need you to, like, start from the beginning.” You took his face softly into your hands, brushing his nice cheekbones with your thumbs.

“..My last two girlfriends cheated on me with Lucifer. You probably already know that, from those gossiping bitches you call friends. That fucking cunt also texted you,” He took a shuddering breath, while nuzzling his nose against the palm of your hand, “Worst of fucking all, he used the same exact text I found on Eves phone! Can you fucking believe that?! How can he be so fucking confident that same fucking scheme will work on you too?! UGH……Fucking Judas also gave him your number….”

You nodded your head while he spoke through his monologue. You brushed his hair strands away from his face, he finally made eye contact with you.

“..But I don’t think I ever met him? Why would he text me?.. Is that why you wanted to beat up Judas?….You don’t need to worry, Adam, I already have my hands full with you.” Adam scoffed at your words, but his brows weren’t furrowed anymore and his breathing calmed down.

“I wanted to beat that fucker up for hurting you…Fuck, you’re…You only deserve the best.” Adam pulled out his phone, opening up instagram. You saw him switch from his main account to a burner account, which is real as fuck of him. He showed you an instagram account of a weirdly pale blond twink.

“….Ah. Okay, he was in the store. Hmm, I kicked him out when he flirted with me though. He’s married, isn’t that weird? Yikes.”

“That cunt flirted with you?! Motherfucker…Him and Lilith are in a weird open marriage. I would rather cut my dick off than have my wife fuck another guy, behind my back. Pathetic cuck..” Adam got up from his kneeling position, resting his chin at the top of your head, “How about you tell me how you kicked him out? That would surely put me in a better fucking mood..” Hands wandered across your back, towards your ass and giving it a rough squeeze.

He moved his head, so he could brush his lips against your ear, “Or you could take me up on that offer to eat out your pussy until I get you to squirt all over my face?”

Jesus fucking Christ, he’s giving your pussy butterflies.

“….How the fuck did you even unlock my phone?” You asked with a shaky voice.

“Don’t have your passcode be your birthday, baby. Not my fault you’re so easy to fucking hack.”

Ok. That’s a mistake you won’t make in the future, for sure. How does he even know your birthday?? Even Judas forgot your birthday.

“Alright! Well…No sex!”

Adam looked shocked at your words, “Till when??”

“Till…..You’re forgiven!” You decided on.

Adam straight up pouted at you.

“And you can’t sleep with other girls!” You quickly added in. You hope he dies off blue balls or something.

Adam snorted at your words, “Haven’t been doing that anyways, baby.” He took your face into his hands, “Have you been fucking around behind my back?” He sharply asked you, while looking at your face.

“The only thing fucking me are my fingers.” You decide on telling him.

“God, I wish those were me…” Adam sighed heavily, “…..Am I right to assume that you won’t send me any nudes? Won’t you help a guy out? Please, babe come onnnnnnnn.”

You successfully got out of Adam’s grasp, winding and wiggling your body so he would let his grasp fall from you, “I’m going home.”

“Sexy, you don’t even need to take the pic yourself! We can do it right fucking here, pull up your shirt and show me those perky nipples.” Man, he was very persistent, “Or a panty shot! That’d be hot as hell. Fuck, only the fantasy of you naked got me already all hot n bothered…”

Adam gave your cheek a sloppy kiss, while whining into your ear, “Forgive meeeee, you know no one else can make you cum. Forgive. Now.” He tried to order you.

You simply giggled at his antics, while holding his face in your hands. You gave his cheek a kiss, but Adam was anything but opportunistic, he quickly captured your lips in a hot french kiss. Adam grasped your hips into his hands and rolled his hips into your own. He sucked your tongue into his own mouth.

Yeah, if Adam asked you again to fuck you would say yes immediately.

Adam disconnected your lips, while smirking at you. He grasped your face fully into his big, warm hands and oh so romantically told you, “Baby, if you ever fuck another guy, I will ruin your whole fucking life. I mean that.”

You dumbly nodded at Adam, while looking up at Adam’s burning, golden eyes.

He patted your cheek, “Hmm, good girl. Let’s get going, I will drive you home. Oh, and also, start using that fucking phone I brought you. Stop being so damn stubborn. Let daddy take care of you.” He winked at you after that last sentence.

You just rolled your eyes at him, “Yeah, yeah.”

Adam made a tch sound, but smiled at you. He slung his arm around your shoulders, leading you outside the broom closet, before he got out he adjusted his bulge in his pants. Man, he’s oh so fucking forgiven. You were so weak. Time to become a nun or something.

He wrapped his hands around your waist, dragging you into his side. He kissed the side of your head while he walked you to his car.

Man, how were you going to explain this to your friends?

“By the way, you have to tell Lute that we are good again. She attempted to murder me when she saw that bruise.”

————————

You sat in the waiting room of your OBGYN, nervously fiddling around with your phone. Your period came early, for once, Basically right after you made up with Adam. Probably because it was stressing you out so much. Or something like that, you weren’t really in tune with your body.

So! You weren’t pregnant! Yay! Now, you get the copper IUD inserted. Only so Adam can fuck you raw. Great. Maybe you should have never forgiven him.

[Adam Godfree]: what r u doing bae 2:14 PM

[Reader]: About to get my cervix pierced. 2:20 PM

[Adam Godfree]: by some guy who isn’t me??? 2:20 PM

[Adam Godfree]: who do u fck when i’m not there to stuff that greedy pussy 2:21 PM

[Reader]: Copper IUD lol 2:21 PM

[Adam Godfree]: oh 2:21 PM

[Adam Godfree]: right 2:21

[Adam Godfree]: well at least tell me the doc is a woman 2:21 PM

You sighed heavily while rubbing at your forehead.

[Reader]: Gtg. Kind of scared. Let’s hope I won’t pass out. 2:22 PM

Right on time you got called in. Thank fuck. You didn’t bother looking at Adam’s response.

The appointment passed by you, like you were in the passenger seat of your own body. Your doctor inserted the horrible thing and at first you thought it’s like a period cramp. But then it fucking hit you. You were done for. This was the first time you ever actually passed out.

At least everyone was nice about it, you lied in an extra room on the floor, with your legs up in a chair. After another wave of a cramp passed you, you were a goner again. Nurses and doctor assistants kept going in and out, checking in on you. You kept your eyes closed, while focusing on your breathing, you heard someone else enter the room. Nothing new.

“Sooo, are you the boyfriend?” A female voice asked into the room. You heart two distinctive foot steps.

“Yeah, I’m the boyfriend.” Oh my god, that was Adam’s voice.

“Aww! That’s so cute. You’re suchhh a good guy!” Adam’s answer was a simple grumble.

Keep calm. Be cool. You kept your breathing even, while simply having your eyes closed.

You heard and felt Adam crouch besides you, together with the assistant. Letting your eyes flutter open, you made eye contact with Adam and the assistant. She had a coke can in her hand.

“Hi there! I got you this, to get your circulation going again. You’re doing much better than me when I got mine inserted, I was passed out for 30 minutes straight! Anyways, I gotta go again. Hope you recover quickly.” With that she went away as fast as she arrived.

You held the can in your hand while laying down, “Help me up?” You eyed Adam.

Adam grasped a hand below your back and held your other hand, while helping you up. He’s so sexily strong. While sitting like a wet rag on the floor, you let Adam open the can and then sipped at it.

Adam brushed your hair away from your face and watched you, “Baby, you really know how to scare a guy. Really that bad, huh?”

“…Image if someone shoved something up your urethra.”

“Fuck, babe, you don’t know how happy I am that birth control is a woman’s job.” Yeah, yeah.

You let your head hit his shoulder, letting it rest there. He carefully petted your hair, while kissing your forehead. His hand slipped from your back towards your ass, “..So, when does it start working?”

You reached out to pinch Adam’s cheek, “I am on my period. I just got something pierced through my cervix. The more you annoy me the less I want to fuck you.”

Adam nuzzled his nose against the top of your head, “…You know what helps against cramps? Orgasms. Trust me, baby, I can make all that pain disappear.” Sleazy guy.

You swatted him on his chest, “Leave me be.” You were going to turn away from him, but another wave of nauseous and vertigo hit you.

Adam quickly caught you and pulled you into his lap.

“Alright, lovely, I got you.”

“…Why did you come?”

Adam looked at you like you were stupid, “You said you were scared? Why wouldn’t I fucking come?”

You simply shrugged. Adam pressed you more against him. You smelled good, you always did. Adam wishes he could keep you like this, forever. Where it’s safe. Where he can watch over you.

The doctor walked in, smiling at you.

“Are you feeling better? When you feel ready, I would like to do an ultrasound. To confirm the place meant of the IUD.” She told you, in that customer service voice you know from yourself.

You nodded at her and got up, with Adam at your side. Following her, you told Adam to wait outside. Which he seemed unhappy with, but whatever.

Quick in and out. Removing the gel from your stomach, you made your way out. Adam was waiting with your bag in his hand by the door.

“Ready to leave?”

“Uhh, in a bit. Sorry, I have to make an check up appointment. Will be quick!” You walked towards the reception.

Chatting with the woman at the desk, you made another appointment.

“Oh, could you guys send me an invoice, like usually?” You asked her, while your fingers thrummed against the wood.

“No need, mam, your boyfriend already paid for today.” Ah. Of course he would.

Thanking her and wishing her a good day, you walked back to Adam.

“I’m ready now. Sorry.”

“ ‘S okay, baby, I like watching you.” Adam intervened your fingers and walked you to his car.

In the car, Adam glanced at you, “..When did you wake up, anyway?”

Here it was, the perfect opportunity to talk about relationship. Now was the time to talk. To establish everything.

“ ..When you two were already crouching down besides me.”You decided on telling him. Fuck. What are scared off?

Adam nodded his head at you, while driving you to his apartment.

He parked you on the couch and told you to watch whatever the hell you want, he’s going to take a quick shower. Apparently he came to get you right after the gym.

Laying on the couch with mind numbing shows running in the background, you heard a phone vibrate. That wasn’t yours. Looking around, you saw Adam’s phone lay on the couch table infront of the sofa. Well, if Adam can’t respect your privacy……But are you as bad as Adam?

Yeah, you’re even worse than Adam.

Taking his phone into your hands, making sure you remembered the exact way the phone laid there, you swiped to unlock his phone. Shit, his passcode is one of those pattern drawing things. Ugh. Okay. You held his phone against the light, so you could see the pattern on his phone screen.

Of fucking course it’s an A. Why did you even have to think about it?

Okay, you are in. What now?

Opening his messenger App, you were surprised to see that you and Lute were at the top of his chats. That’s nice. When you scrolled down to see contact names like “Amelia. BJ 2/10” “Olivia. Ok tits.” “Alice. Lesbian” made you want to jump off a building. At least your contact name was simply your name?? Jesus.

Making sure that Adam was still showering, you decided on opening his gallery. Whatever possessed you really wanted to hurt your feelings, apparently. Man.

Well, his gallery seemed normal? Hm. Scrolling through his folders, you saw one that catches your eye. The title was a simple heart emoji. Opening it, because you hate yourself, you came to face the most beautiful woman you have ever seen. She had deep, dark, brown skin, with coily black hair put into nice box braids. She was short, and her body reminded you of that of Venus of Willendorf, with wide hips, big breasts and an ample stomach. You really should know the comparison was accurate, since she was completely naked.

(How will you ever compare?)

The stretch marks complimented her beautifully. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You shoulder really learn how to mind your own business. It was full of nudes of her, obviously taken by her and she seemed completely enthusiastic. Scrolling a bit further, you saw a video. Making sure the phone volume is silent, you opened.

You were going to be sick, actually. You aren’t stupid, you knew that it would be a sex tape of Adam and his ex Eve. Adam and Eve. That’s cute. You hoped it would be pure filth.

Of course it had to be the most romantic sex video in the whole universe.

Alright! Let’s ignore the fact that you were slightly turned on and more on that your heart was broke. From an guy who’s not even your boyfriend.

Making sure the gallery app is closed, and whatever was open before you got your hands on the phone was open, you laid it back down from where you grabbed it. Exact same placement. Deep breaths. Why would you even look, are you stupid?!

Laying fully back down, you took deep breaths, while rubbing at your forehead. During your silent breakdown, Adam finished his shower and got dressed. Seeing you like that on the couch, he was kind of confused.

“Everything good?” He leaned down to get a better look at you.

“… ‘M getting a migraine.” You decided on telling him. Not a lie and not the truth This should pass without alerting Adam.

Adam clicked his tongue and sat down at couch, and tugged you into his lap. He massaged your forehead, temple and scalp gently.

“You’re doing so well, sweet thing. Get some rest.”

Even though he’s horrible, Adam is still warm, big and soft. He makes you feel safe, which is why you started to nod off.

Adam laid carefully down on the couch, and you stirred slightly awake. He quickly moved to calm you down again, to get you back to sleep, which succeeded.

He loved nothing more than to have you with him. Shit, he had you. Basically. At this point Adam considered you to be his.

It had to be worth it, after all, that he sabotaged your relationship with Judas.

#hazbin hotel adam x reader #college au! adam #hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #cw smut #hazbin hotel smut #cw suggestive

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genshin-impact-unofficial · 10 months

Text

🌦Confessions gone wrong...

Genshin men and how they fuck up their confessions to you.

Ft. Bennett, Venti, Xingqiu, Xiao, Itto, and Wanderer

Tags: Fem!Reader, Long-Hair!Reader(Xingqiu), crushes, pining, fluff, pg, bad things happen to good people. Note: This thread is mostly humor. I just really wanted to bully some characters. No beta. Pay no mind to me trying to edit my mistakes after this has been posted. (Repost!)

Bennett

Fatal Flaw: Honestly does nothing wrong, is just an unlucky dude.

There’s too many instances to count. The poor boy has really been trying to tell you his feelings for MONTHS.

In his excitement he wanted to be flashy and ask you out somewhere cool, like by the big tree in Windrise. The weather thankfully allowed it, but right as he was about to take your hand and confess, a swarm of crystal flies began swarming him. You didn’t know they could be so aggressive.

A restaurant! He could treat you to a meal and tell you there! When the two of you arrived at Good Hunter, it was unfortunately closed early for the day. Apparently all of the meat had suddenly gone bad…

You get the gist.... he’s been in this constant confession limbo for a while now. The more he wants it the worse it goes.

Bennett finally decided he didn’t need the bells and whistles. He cared about you a lot and he was going to confess to you if it was the last thing he did. And it damn well might be. With a new found determination, he ran out to do just that.

“Y/N!” Bennett called out when he spotted you by the Adventure’s Guild. He rushed to you, paying special attention to every stair step to keep from tripping. You turned around and smiled too sweetly when you caught sight of him. It made the boy’s heart thump in his chest. Were it not for his sudden tunnel vision, he may have noticed that cat running past him and not trip down the remaining flight of stairs.

The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself being carried up the familiar route to the cathedral. The adventurer’s face flushed bright red when he realized you were the one carrying him piggyback. It was embarrassing..... but it shamefully wasn’t the first time. Bennett sighed in defeat and simply leaned into your back. When felt his shift in weight, you glanced back to smile at him. You giggled at his clumsiness and it was like music to the boy’s ears. You told him how glad you were that he already regained consciousness this time.

The two of you began joke around like usual and talked the rest of the way there. Bennett took the small victories.

Venti

Fatal Flaw: Tries to impress you too hard.

He knew exactly where he was going to sing his love ballad about you. The sound of the wind as it blew off the hills of starsnatch cliff would be the perfect accompaniment. Maybe it would need some encouragement, but it was nothing he couldn’t accomplish.

Venti wanted the wine to be just right for the occasion too. You deserved nothing but the best. And how else would he be able to judge the quality.... if not just a teeny tiny taste test? He had to be thorough about this choice after all.

The bard usually had enough self control to limit himself to a glass or two, but he felt his nerves get to him a tad. Venti had the confidence that he could show you a beautiful night, but in the end it was your choice whether to accept his heartfelt gesture. The archon respected your freedom above all else.

They sure don’t call it liquid courage for nothing! Venti was brimming with confidence when he brought you to a picnic under a tree, overlooking the cecilias in full bloom. You were visibly in awe, and your reactions quickly inflated the bard’s ego to dangerous heights. “If you think that’s beautiful, watch this.”

A gust of wind flowed over the field, sweeping up all the fallen petals to dance in the air. It was unreal, magical, magnificent, splendid, it was…… buzzing? A thud fell between the two of you and effectively ended the romantic moment. It was a wasps nest.

“ABANDON SHIP!” Venti cried out, grabbing your hand and booking it downhill.

Xingqiu

Fatal Flaw: Hubris.

He really doesn’t like to toot his own horn. Maybe once in a while when it’s warranted. But he really out did himself. Xingqiu read plenty of books regarding the art of courting, and they guided the way to what was sure to be the most romantic confession possible.

The brilliance was in the simplicity of the plan. First he would begin with a gift. The two of you always met at the book store on your off-days. When he sees you wear your long hair in your usual up-do, he would offer the beautiful hair ornament he acquired. Maybe in your excitement, you would even allow him to affix it for you.

The boy’s stomach dropped when he saw you enter the bookstore. He stared while you looked around for him, turning your head left and right in an adorable manner. The movement accentuated your newest feature... a hair cut. “Y/N, over here.” Xingqiu called to you, his confidence was already wavering a little. You excitedly walked to meet up with him and offered a big grin.

Well all is not lost! This leads into his next step; Flattery! “Dear Y/N, you cut your hair. It looks-” “Ugh, don’t remind me.” You quickly cut him off, mood souring just a tad. You explain the tragic story of how you stupidly got a chunk of your hair caught in a lever. The only solution was to cut it clean off, the dramatic change was definitely still a sore topic.

Now the boy was breaking a sweat. He changed to a new tactic, to cheer you up. Xingqiu dropped the subject and prompted that you both look at the newest releases. It would help to take your mind off things and he was banking on the last step of his plan to pan out. It was his last hope.

The two of you settled on the docks and were eager to discuss the books you had just picked. Xingqiu had hidden a love poem into the latest book from your favorite author. He knew you couldn’t resist picking it up, so he stealthily slipped the note into the book you held. Xingqiu spend all night pouring his heart out just right onto the page, as if trying to convey every reason he should be by your side. He expressed his desperate want to be the one to protect and cherish you. Watching you now, talking about your day, left his brain dazed in admiration. It made him realize that all those little things before didn’t matter, as long as you knew how much he adored you in the end.

Finally, you pulled out your newest book to show Xingqiu. The distressed boy nearly fell off the dock. “T-the cover-” He stammered, quickly righting himself. You looked back at him concerned, and slowly explained that it was a limited edition cover. It was only available for the first hundred copies sold. When you saw there was still some in stock, you just had to snag one.

Why do novels make romance it sound so easy....

Xiao

Fatal Flaw: One track mind.

Xiao had been hyping himself up for this one moment for weeks! He nearly talks himself out of confessing every other minute. You may not even reciprocate, but for his sanity he couldn’t keep hiding how deeply he cares for you. The whole situation was so uncertain but the hammering in his chest was proof that he had to do this.

Its like a band-aid he just had to rip it off. To get it over with. Xiao had no idea how to approach it and resorted to redeeming a favor owed to him. He needed to know what he was getting into and have a battle plan. When he approached Ganyu for advice he concealed most of the details. If she was any the wiser who he was asking romantic advice for, she was kind enough to not to mention it and let him keep his pride.

Xiao glanced down at the single glaze lily in his hand. The irony was not lost on him. It was almost humorous, an adeptus making an offering to a mortal and asking for their blessing.

It was almost the time and he prepared as if going into war. You greeted him and sat casually on the balcony railing of Wangshu Inn. Xiao wasted no time with pleasantries and held out the glaze lily to you. “Please accept this.” He stated. The flower was rigidly extended to the full length of his arm. The fiery determination on his face was quite off-putting while offering such a delicate plant.

“Ah... I appreciate it Xiao, I really do, but I can’t.” You began to say, confusion steeping into your tone.

“I insist and I ask that you hear me out.” Xiao’s arm did moving an inch. It was the first thing Ganyu told him to do. He couldn’t abandon his path already.

“What is going on Xiao? I really can’t accept-” You try to explain.

“Please.” His eyes were downcast and the yaksha’s tone was the closest thing to a plea that you’ve ever heard it. You were a tad bewildered and felt as though there was no use trying to talk him down right now. Left with no other choice, you reluctantly took the glaze lily in your hand.

“Y/N I must tell you that I-” Thats as far as Xiao got before the coughing fit began. Your wracking coughs brought you to your knees. A wheeze is the only thing you could manage as you point to your bag. Xiao was alert and scrambling to make sense of what was happening. Your bag is brought to you in an instant and an arm wrapped around your waist to gently guide you to a chair.

It took twenty minutes to fully get your breathing under control. You declined is offer to go grab you help. You just knew Xiao would disappear as soon as it arrived. It was a small allergy attack and nothing too threatening, but you could tell the boy next to you was profusely beating himself up for it.

You never did find out why he was so insistent on you taking that flower. What a strange guy.

Itto

Fatal Flaw: All of the above.

The whole situation was more or less doomed from the start. Once his oblivious ass realized he was in love with you, it was over. The oni was going to confess to you so hard that people were going to be talking about it for YEARS!

It was an all hands on deck operation. Itto gathered the whole gang and then some. He was able to recruit the neighborhood kids to gather as many sakura pedals as they could carry. The boys were on staging duty, making sure the location was so romantic it could even make onikabuto stop fighting long enough fall in love. Itto even managed win a few fireworks off Yoimiya. (She brutally crushed him in a game of Genius Invokation TCG, and mercifully tossed a couple firecrackers his way as a consolation prize.) SCORE!

It was all coming together! All that was left was to distract you for just a little bit longer. That was a job so important that he could only entrust it to his competent second in command. Shinobu tried to convince Itto again and again that he didn’t need all this extra stuff. Pulling off something this complicated was only setting his expectations to an impossible height. Overall wouldn't it be better to be up front and earnest with you about how he felt? Her genuine, good advice promptly fell on deaf ears. Itto was far too busy trying to find which color would make his horns look even cooler in the light of all the fireflies they captured to release right when he said he loved you. Shinobu left this trainweck to to its thing and went to go find you.

She usually would’ve press the subject more, but she did genuinely enjoy your company. The Arataki Gang Deputy considered you a good influence on the boss and anything that could keep him out of trouble, the better.

At last, the time arrived to set all the gears into motion. Now Itto just had to wait for.... The realization hit him. He hadn't told you or Shinobu a time or place too meet today.

The bumbling oni spent a great deal of the afternoon searching for you like a lost puppy. “Yo! Y/N! Hey Hi! I gotta talk to you!” Itto yelled out across the road. He had finally managed to catch up to you two. The guy was ecstatic that things were looking up, plan was back on track! If he hurried now he could get you to the location the gang set up before sunset.

Itto excitedly told you that you HAD to see something. You were always amused by his antics, so of course you agreed. Without hesitation the oni all but dragged you out the door and towards the beach.

When you arrived.... oh crap.

Apparently, you need to get a “warrant” or something to set up the most romantic love confession of all time. Are they trying to say they own the beach or something? That's crazy now! The gang members were trying to explain themselves to the Tenryou Commission guards when you both walked in on the scene. Itto may have made things only a little tiny bit worse when he called the annoyed guard a “block head without a romantic bone in his body”, but no one was keeping score were they? Nonetheless, the whole altercation placed everyone on the scene in a Tenryo Commission cell... including you.

Shinobu was gonna be so pissed.

Wanderer

Fatal Flaw: Forgets he’s supposed to be confessing.

The whole situation was incredibly annoying anyway. You were the one who wouldn’t take the hint, why should he have to spell it out for you. It’s not like he even wanted these feelings. It was all happening without his permission. On top of that, you were dense enough to miss the point every single time he tried to explain it to you.

“Is something on my face?” You asked your newly reformed friend while putting down your book. He'd been boring holes into your skull for several minutes now.

“No? Why are you asking dumb questions?” He snapped. You noticed Wanderer had been doing that quite frequently recently. You sighed in defeat and began gathering your things.

“If you don’t have anything nice to say, I’m heading out.” You told him casually.

You were usually pretty patient with Wanderer, but he’d been in some sort of sour mood lately. Typically it took a few more irksome things before he would start his attitude, but you just couldn’t figure out whats been setting him off recently. You decided it was best to just let him calm down and try again later.

“Don’t.” Wanderer said snatched your hand roughly before you could get too far. “I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t calling you dumb.” He spoke without looking directly at you. You made no movement towards returning and his grip on your hand did not let up.

“And?” You prompted gently.

“Sorry. I’m sorry I said it.” He spat out, clearly annoyed.

You settled back down and asked him what's been bothering him. It’s clear that he was on edge and when you pointed it out his posture became rigid. He was a former Harbinger for fuck sake. Why was this so terrifying. He had been through hell and back without flinching, yet here you were just a person with a goofy laugh and weird interests. It shouldn’t be that hard.

“It’s your fault.” The boy accused, shooting you an annoyed glare. “These emotions aren’t exactly something that come with a manual.”

You blinked back at him in confusion and damn it now you looked cute.

“Stop looking at me! It’s weird.” Wanderer sneered, and immediately scolded himself for harsh it came out. You narrowed your eyes and pointed out that he was just staring at you just a few moments ago. Doesn't that make him weird too? “What? No! That was different. Fuck, you’re already missing the point. That’s why this is impossible with you!”

You were loosing your patience and told him he was being just as impossible. “Me? At least I'm trying to talk here. You make things so much harder. If you just didn’t look at me like I asked, this wouldn’t have been an issue.” The boy jabbed back at you.

The bickering went on for a while and concluded with both of you storming off in opposite directions. It wasn’t until Wanderer entered the second room over that he remembered what he was trying to say...... “Ugh, smooth.” He scowls.

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hispg · 10 months

Text

Comfort

Pairings: R4! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: Your husband is glad that he has you, just like he's glad to have his little family.

Wc:4.8k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, mentions of ptsd, mentions of birth and pregnancy, soft sex(nothing too kinky), oral sex(f receiving), just Leon being a sweetheart.

An:So, this week has been very busy for me. As I've been saying in my last few posts, university has been taking up a lot of my time, as well as my mental health being pretty messed up. I didn't manage to finish the chapter of 'Between Love and Vows' so I probably won't post anything new until next week. In compensation, I'll post another one of my drafts (smut), I'll make a poll so you guys can choose. And next week I'll post two new chapters of the series! Thanks for your love and understanding <3 If I haven't answered your comment, ask or request, don't worry, I will eventually🫶🫶

MDNI

Sleepless nights, the nightmares that kept tormenting him, his mind that was in turmoil all the time. Leon was used to all this, he had already realized that these were sensations he would carry with him for the rest of his life.

His trauma, ptsd that haunted him every day. Things he had seen and heard, all so fresh in his memory, so vivid. Things that no matter how hard he tried to forget, he couldn't. As if it were a mark stamped on his soul.

But he coped, as he always does with everything in life. Little by little, he understood how to deal with panic attacks, how to calm down even when he was about to collapse. He learned all this, but that didn't make things any less worse than they were.

Although he thought he had everything under control, that it wouldn't affect him as much as before, he was wrong.

His last mission in Spain proved it, he went from hell to heaven to save the president's daughter. Everything worked out in the end, but that doesn't erase what he experienced or saw.

Many times he could have sworn that if it hadn't been for you, he would have gone mad a long time ago. Even if you weren't able to end the pain he felt, you were there to be the light at the end of the tunnel for him, the clarity to his own insanity.

All this because every time he returned from a mission, he came home first, not caring if he was all dirty with mud and dirt, even blood. His safe haven was here, with you.

That was the only reason he always came home, no matter how difficult things might be for him. You were what he needed, you were the person who healed all his wounds, and he couldn't be more grateful.

If it had been anyone else, he would have left you by now, but you understood him. You listened to him even if he didn't make any sense, you were still there.

Your love was the remedy for all his problems.

And if he was being honest, it was the reason he woke up every day, the only reason he had a place to call home. You, simply you.

And that night, he found himself on another one of those nights when he couldn't sleep, and there he was, pacing around the house, finding something to occupy his mind.

It had been two weeks since he had returned from his mission in Spain, and he was still terrified by everything that had happened, even though he was safe and sound in the comfort of his own home.

He woke up from a nightmare, yet another one. And in order not to wake you too, he preferred to get out of bed. You were already tired enough to have to deal with him in the wee hours of the morning.

He was so careful with you, even though you had told him several times that it was okay for him to wake you up if he needed to. But he was stubborn enough to say no.

As he made some tea, just to see if it would calm his nerves, he watched the rain falling outside, the gentle drips hitting the window.

In that silence he began to have some sweet memories, it always helped to calm him down a little. One of those memories was when he asked you to marry him, God, he still remembers the nervousness that ran through his whole body. The trembling hands that held the box with the ring, the words that he had rehearsed so much and still came out messy. He was so afraid of being told no, but his heart calmed down when you smiled and threw yourself into his arms, saying yes again and again, making his heart melt each time.

That night he fell even more in love with you, if that were possible.

When you started living together, every time he came home he was greeted with a hug, you welcomed him with love and affection. He felt his cold exterior crumble at the same moment, words couldn't describe how much he liked it. Every little gesture that came from you, no matter what, he always took it to heart and considered it with all his soul.

He still vividly remembered a conversation he had with you as soon as you moved in together. It never failed to crack a smile.

"Darling, did you let something burn?" Leon asks as he feeds himself, looking around the kitchen.

You look at him with a laugh, seeing that he arrived so tired that he didn't even realize he was still in his work clothes. And then you answer, "No, why do you ask?"

"Nothing, it's just that something stinks." He says quietly, focused on finishing his food.

You can't help yourself and a giggle escapes your lips, "You haven't showered yet, sweetheart."

"Oh..." He mumbles, looking down at his state.

He was so entertained that he only noticed a baby crying from one of the bedrooms, it was you guys son.

He didn't hesitate to go into the baby's room, watching the little one whimpering in his crib, even though he was warm and comfortable in his blankets, the little boy was still bothered by something.

Leon imagined that he wasn't hungry, since you had fed him not long ago. Then he thought it might be his diaper that was dirty, which he soon confirmed.

So the baby was in his arms the next second, he put the little boy on the changing table and changed him properly, not forgetting a single detail, from carefully wiping him down with a wet wipe, to the ointment he had to apply to prevent diaper rash.

He checked the diaper to make sure it was fastened properly. Once he'd checked everything, he rocked the baby in his arms until the little one fell asleep again.

He even sang a lullaby, one of the little boy's favorites. He still thought it sounded ridiculous, but he didn't care as long as it soothed the baby.

Every time he looked at the little one's face, he couldn't hold back the loving smile that always appeared on his lips. It was still hard to believe that he had his own little family.

It's still clear in his memory when you announced that you were pregnant, the uncertainty and fear that consumed him. The anguish he felt, the apprehension of being a bad father. As well as the shock he felt when he received the news, since it wasn't something either of you were expecting. Not least because you had just started living together, so it was a lot all at once. But nothing that shook the relationship, quite the opposite.

But every time he saw you laugh, every time you came home with a little baby thing, whether it was clothes, shoes or even a toy. He couldn't contain his joy at the thought that he was going to be a father, that he was going to have a child.

It wasn't long before he started buying lots and lots of things for the baby, rattles, diapers, baby cloths, various types of educational toys, plush toys and everything else.

In a matter of weeks, the spare room in the house was full and ready to receive the baby, even if you weren't that far along in your pregnancy.

Not only did he become even more protective, the kind that wouldn't even let you lift a thing, but he accompanied you throughout your pregnancy. From start to finish. Even though he sometimes had to leave for work, he never failed to call you, even if it was late at night.

He always made video calls to see how you were doing, even talking to the baby in your belly on the phone. Even if they were quick calls, he still made sure they happened.

It was obvious that he wanted to be there for you, and he made it clear whenever he could, because he did everything for you, simply everything. Craves? He'd arrange anything you wanted. Going out late at night to buy a slice of cake in a particular flavor? Well, he was there. He would go to the end of the earth to find whatever you wanted.

When you were uncomfortable he was there, always whispering kind things to you, always trying to calm you down and relax in his embrace, trying to give you all the security you could have. He still remembers when your water broke, you were so calm, and he was about to have a heart attack.

Yet he was with you the whole way, holding your hand as you went into labor.

But all his worry went away as soon as he heard the baby's cry, the little being that had just come out of you. He still remembers the unconditional love he felt as soon as he laid eyes on the little one, as soon as he saw you cradling the boy in your arms, crying with exhaustion and joy. Just as he was crying as much as the baby, he felt so happy that he couldn't imagine being anywhere else but there with you and your bundle of joy.

"What are we going to call him?" Leon asked through tears, wiping away his own with the back of his hand.

"I don't know, sweetheart, we agreed that if it was a boy you'd choose." You say in a whisper, giving him a small smile. Rocking the newborn in your arms.

"No, I'd rather you chose." He says softly, running his fingers through the baby's thin golden strands, which by the way had the same hair as his father.

"Leon-," he doesn't let you finish, giving you a kiss on the lips. Letting his forehead rest on yours, looking at you with tear-filled eyes and a sweet smile.

"You've already given me one of the greatest joys of my life. Nothing could be fairer than for you to choose any name you like." Kind words that made your heart melt, and you just nodded.

At that moment he realized that there was no better place in the world. That there was nowhere else he wanted to be, all he needed was you.

While he was lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice that the little one had already fallen asleep, making cooing noises, his mouth hanging open while he slept peacefully. Even the way he slept was like Leon's, it was funny to see how similar the two of them were.

Then he slowly placed the little one in his crib, tucking him into the covers and making sure he was warm and comfortable for the rest of the night.

He stayed for a few more minutes, humming some more until he was sure the boy wouldn't wake up too soon.

After that he moved into the kitchen, where he found you awake, which was enough to make him wrinkle his eyebrows.

"Love?" He asks softly, moving towards you.

You answer him with a smile, giving him a hug, "You should have called me."

He shakes his head, kissing the top of your head, "I didn't have to."

You pout, giving him a playful pat on the shoulder.

"Here, I've made your tea. I've also put out a slice of cake for you." You murmur with a smile, pointing to the plate on the table.

He chuckles, holding your face and kissing the tip of your nose.

"You're amazing." He whispers before walking over to the table and sitting down, taking a sip of tea and eating the cake, which, by the way, was his favorite flavor.

So you sat next to him, waiting for him to finish eating silently.

"Your food is fucking good." Leon says, taking a bite of his cake and smiling at you.

You couldn't help but giggle, knowing that even if you burned the food, he'd eat it and say it was good.

"No, you're just being nice." You say softly, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He laughed genuinely, entwining his fingers with yours. Then he lifted your hand and kissed the back of it.

You were always amazed by his loving gestures, which he always made towards you. And so the two of you remained until he had finished eating, rubbing his thumb against your hand to give it a gentle caress.

When he had finished, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, looking at you with a smile. But you couldn't help noticing the dark circles under his eyes, just as he still had a few scratches and bruises all over his body. As well as the scars, some new, some old. All a mark of his profession.

"Did you have another nightmare?" you ask, running your fingers along his cheekbones, smiling softly.

He nodded with a tired sigh, leaning into your touch, "No big deal."

You knew that he always hid these things from you, not least because it took time for him to feel comfortable sharing the events of his mission with you.

"You can tell me, smartass." You said smiling, rubbing your nose against his, letting his hand rest on the small of your back.

His lips curved into a small smile, just as his eyes met yours. And that was enough to make you blush slightly, no matter how long you'd been together, he always had that effect on you.

The rain began to fall harder outside, enough to make you both look out of the window. The rain left a comfortable atmosphere in the kitchen, just the two of you sharing the warmth of your bodies, making that cold night a little warmer.

You picked up the dishes and took them to the sink, taking the opportunity to wash them right away. And it wasn't long before you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, just as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his warm breath beating against you.

"I swear to God I love the smell of your lotion." He purrs, rubbing his nose against your neck, hugging you tightly.

You smiled, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. Even if it was late at night, those moments were so precious to you both. A little intimacy was always nice.

But even with all the affection coming from him, you could feel how tense his muscles were, how his breathing wasn't very regulated. Every time he had these nightmares, they took a while to wear off, and he was still scared for a good few hours.

You then turned to him, held his face in your hands and looked at him seriously, "You should have called me."

He knew how this conversation would go. But to be honest, he wasn't paying attention to your speech, only to the way your lips moved as you spoke, your sweet voice entering his ears. Even if it was you scolding him.

All he could do was give you a silly little smile, stroking your cheeks with his thumb. No matter how much you talked, he would forget the next day. He just didn't want to worry you with his work matters.

Gently he put his index finger to your lips, whispering, "Why don't you hush, darling?"

You widened your eyes, preparing to protest, but he interrupted you, giving you a loving kiss. The kiss was full of affection and tenderness, just as he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around your waist once again, gluing your body to his.

Without giving you time to say another word, he carried you in his arms, taking you to your room like a princess, as if you weighed nothing, he did it with the purest ease.

His grip was firm, as if he didn't want to let you go, he wanted to have you there, in his arms.

Your room was dark, lit only by the faint light of the moon, while the rain continued to fall outside. It wasn't long before he laid you down on the mattress, letting you sink into the soft surface.

The door locked, the baby asleep, just the two of you in that room. The perfect moment for what was about to happen.

No matter how many times Leon looked at you, he always lost his breath, his breath caught in his throat.

You were so beautiful, so perfect, he didn't know how he had been so lucky to have found someone like you, and he couldn't thank you enough for that.

His hands began to move slowly up your thigh, callused fingers caressing the soft skin, letting his hand wander over the flesh, touching you with all the passion he had to offer. And he would do this for the rest of your life.

His mouth finding your neck, his hot breath making you gasp, letting him do whatever he wanted with you.

Soon the wet kisses began, leaving his lips hovering over the weak spots that he knew, he knew exactly where to touch, because he knew well that every touch of his made your body shiver with desire.

"You're beautiful." He whispers, giving your thigh a light squeeze, feeling the soft fabric of your nightgown on the back of his hand.

You give a sly smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close.

He soon understands what you want, and he gives it to you right away. A tender, passionate kiss, gently capturing your lips.

You don't know how, but he always manages to show his devotion to you with every kiss, every touch, every night of love. He makes it seem like the first time, always showing you how much he loves you.

His fingers keep tracing your thigh, feeling how warm your body gets from his touch. Your body reacting under his, squirming and shivering, an incentive for him.

When he pulls away from you a little, just to stop the kiss. He nibbles your lip, lifts your leg and grabs the back of your thigh.

Making a point of giving you wet kisses all over your neck, shoulders, collar bone, all to hear the sweet sounds that escaped your lips every time, the way you begged softly for him to continue.

"Oh, fuck Leon..." You whimpered, watching his fingers purposely wrap around the strap of your panties, he was taking his time.

As he always did, because he wanted to make sure he gave you all the affection he could give.

As soon as their trail of kisses went down to your chest, he spared no effort in giving little kisses to your nipples, which were already hard, crying out for any kind of touch and attention.

It was more than enough for you to let out several moans and low squeaks, letting your hands nestle in his golden strands, feeling the softness they contained.

Both his hands slid under your nightgown, and before long his fingers were playing with the waist line of your panties, fingering and stretching, all the while keeping an eye on your every reaction.

The look he had in store for you was yours alone, he had never looked at anyone else like that. Nor would he ever, you were the only one capable of bringing it out of him. The only one.

Just as you never tired of looking into those gentle blue eyes, similar to the color of the sky, or even the ocean. You lost your breath every time.

And there he went, slowly dropping wet kisses over the thin fabric of your nightgown, feeling your body tremble beneath his, just as he made a point of running his fingers over the wet surface of your panties, only to give a smug smile, knowing that he could get you soaking wet for so little.

As soon as he reached your navel, he lifted your nightgown completely, exposing your lower body, which was enough for him to let out a low noise, excited by the image in front of him. Which only fueled his cock to throb even more under his pants.

"I wonder what I did to make you like this." Leon said with a sly, mischievous smile, sliding his index finger down your slit.

Did he know the answer? Of course he did. But it was nicer to hear it from your mouth, your sweet voice echoing through the room.

"You know, you just need to touch me..." You said with a pout, looking at him with piteous eyes, a look he already knew well. And yet it broke his smile every time.

"Because of me?" He purrs, pushing his fingertips against your covered pussy, teasing you as far as he can.

You whimper, spreading your legs as if it were an automatic reaction from your body. Understanding the signal, he pulls you a little closer to the edge of the bed, taking off your panties and sliding them down your legs, soon the garment was lying in a corner of the room.

You were there, completely exposed to him, legs dangling from his shoulders, clit throbbing and begging him to do something.

It felt like magic, every time he touched you he was able to drive you crazy with the smallest things. You often got wet just watching him, seeing the way the muscles in his arms flexed every time he held your legs tighter.

Or the way he always looked at you throughout the process, as he positioned his face close to your center, biting and licking your inner thigh, making sure to leave soft marks all over the area. He loved looking at the love bites the next day, not least because you looked beautiful with each one.

"You're all mine, aren't you?" He asked in a whisper, which sounded more like a question to himself. Especially because he didn't even need to hear the answer.

You were about to answer, but your mind turned to crumbs as soon as he started planting wet, caressing kisses in your folds, letting his tongue linger in certain spots.

His wet muscle slid into your wet pussy, making you arch your body and tremble under him. The tip of his tongue brushed against your clit, swirling around your sensitive part, enough for you to roll your eyes and moan a little louder.

"That's so good, so good..." You mumble, biting your lower lip to hold back your moans.

Every time he eat you out, he didn't hold back with the noises he made, he didn't even care about the slurping noises he made, or the way he did it in a completely sloppy way.

Not least because he never wasted any time, it wasn't long before he was fucking you with his tongue. Moving in and out, hitting all your sweet spots.

It didn't take long for you to be a mess, moaning and whimpering, your sounds echoing around the room. Your hands nestled in his hair, pushing his head against you, letting him get buried in your thighs.

Despite this, you couldn't help but crave his cock, a need to have it inside you, you needed him fucking you.

"Leon..." You called out, rolling your hips against his mouth, you could already feel your orgasm approaching.

He smiled sideways, kissing all over your intimate area, making a point of running his tongue over it in the process. The way he did this so masterfully left no doubt that he knew exactly what to do to bring you to the edge, he knew exactly.

As soon as he started tongue-fucking you one more time, it was enough for you to come apart in his mouth, gushing out all your climax. You could feel your body hot and bothered, your mind confused and without any other thoughts. It was surreal the way your orgasms with him were always that intense.

Just as he spared no expense in giving you sloppy, wet kisses on your wet folds, as if he were smoothing the area, taking the opportunity to clean up the mess that was between your legs. Even though he was about to make another one.

"It tastes fucking good, love." He purrs, licking his lips and lifting his head.

Having the beautiful image of you, with your legs spread, sweaty body, chest rising and falling. The way your eyelids were closed and your lips were open was more than enough to send a wave of electricity to his cock. Which, by the way, was already leaking pre-cum, the wet spot on his sweatpants was already clearly visible.

He wasted no time in removing his pants and underwear, letting his cock pop out. Which was a divine sign for you, seeing every inch of his shapely body, the way he was hard as a rock.

His cock resting in his palm, as he gave it a few small pumps, watching the precum drip down a little. Despite this, his eyes were focused on you, the way you bit your lip and stared at him.

"Please?" You ask in a whisper, spreading your legs even wider for him.

In response, he gives you a puffy smile, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, his sticky liquid pooling with your own juices.

You whimper and pout to get him in at once. As if on command, he obeyed, lifting your legs over his shoulder and fitting himself into you. Hissing once he was all the way in, the way your walls clenched around him was enough to elicit a grunt from him.

"So fucking eager..." He whispers in your ear, taking the opportunity to nibble on it. Making you gasp easily.

"Oh-Oh, so deep!" You moan, your nails sinking into the muscles of his back, a reaction he loved every time.

You can't say how, but he thrust into you in such a sensual way, his hips rolling with a dexterity you couldn't even describe in words. It was calm, sexy, who knows how you could describe it.

His eyes never left yours, he could reach all your weak points, all the places where he made you roll your eyes and curl your toes.

At that point, he didn't even try to understand you. Not least because you could only mumble half-words, whimpers or moans, and he couldn't have been prouder to leave you in that state. Your mind so foolish as he fucked you numb.

"Are you going to come already, love?" He asks softly, kissing your cheeks and pulling you even closer.

"Mhmhm." You hum and nod, feeling your walls tighten around him. Just like the feeling of butterflies in your stomach that you were beginning to feel.

He chuckled, speeding up his thrusts, making an even louder sound of skin hitting skin. He wouldn't be long either, he'd probably come right after you.

And there you went the moment he started making circles with his thumb on your clit, you're sure you went to heaven at the same moment.

Your lips parted only for you to let out a silent scream, a noise that came from deep in your throat. He was quick to pull you into a hot, thirsty kiss, moving at a much faster speed than before.

He wanted to get there now.

In and out he went, feeling his cock throb with each jerk of his hips. On the last thrust he came, thrusting deep, spilling all his seed into you, as deep as he could.

He let out a grunt through your lips, holding your sides tightly.

By the end you were panting, covered in a thin layer of sweat. When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead on yours, giving a silly, tired smile.

"Sore?" He murmurs under his breath, trailing kisses down your cheek.

"Maybe a little." You whisper, closing your eyes and sinking into the mattress.

He then gets off you and places you properly on the bed, rolling you under the covers, and then doing the same. He hugs you from behind and cuddles you, giving you massages in the places he knew would be sore. He loved worshiping your body, and you couldn't complain.

"I love you." He says, full of love and tenderness.

"I love you too." You return, kissing his hand.

You fell asleep a few minutes later, and he watched you sleep as always, giving you kisses and caresses from time to time.

He loved you so much he couldn't explain it, you were his comfort. Everything he needed most. You and your son were his adored little family.

And the way he loved you, he knew that you would be the death of him.

Oh God, how he loves you.

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