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#FOR THE LOVE OF GOD LET ME HUG THAT TREE MAN
maidragoste · 5 months
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The Decision
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Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, minor Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader, Rhaenyra Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader
Again another AU with the reader of The Sea Dragon, The Clubfoot and The Green Queen (you don't need to read it to understand this one shot because this story starts LONG BEFORE the canon of that universe).
Summary: When King Viserys announces that he plans to marry you, you make a decision to avoid becoming the king's wife.
Now you can read this bonus!
TW: This is NSFW (if you don't like it you can read only the Rhaenyra and Harwin parts)
I was dying to share this with all of you so I hope you like it!
If you want to read more of this Reader and Daemon, don't hesitate to let me know in the comments or in my inbox 🤭
REBLOGS, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated 🥰🥰💖💖
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Also this is my first smut so sorry if it's weird to read.
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You felt your heart hammering as you waited for the king to make his announcement. Your stomach wouldn't stop spinning and you have no idea how you still hadn't vomited up what you had for breakfast.
With every passing second you have to keep yourself from running out of the council chambers. You couldn't stop looking at your father, a part of you wanted to take his hand and ask him to get you out of here but you didn't trust him anymore. You were in this situation because of him. You always knew that your father is a proud and ambitious man but you never thought that his ambition would be greater than his love for you. If your father really loved you he wouldn't have sent you to the king's chambers. He wouldn't have made you start wearing dresses that showed more skin for your visits with him. Gods, you wanted to hit your father so badly, you wanted to wipe the smile off his face because both he and you knew what Viserys was going to announce. Everyone knew it, you noticed that Otto Hightower was trying to hide his annoyance from everyone, the only one who seemed unaware of the tension in the room was Rhaenyra.
“I have decided to take a new wife,” the king began and you noticed how he and Rhaenyra exchanged a look. You were surprised to see your cousin nod as if she was permitting him to move on. Did Rhaenyra know? Did she approve of this? “I intend to get married,” he continued, this time looking at you and your father. You forced a smile as you dug your nails into your palms, feeling helpless for being in this situation “with Lady Y/N Velaryon before spring.”
Your eyes met Rhaenyra's purple ones. There was none of the love or fun you usually saw. Now she was looking at you with a mixture of pain and fury. The pain in your stomach got worse. Nyra had never looked at you like that. This shouldn't be happening.
It was obvious that she didn't know that her father was planning to marry you. You wanted to scream, you wanted to hug her and tell her that this wasn't what you wanted, that you weren't trying to steal her mother's place, that you would never do anything to hurt her.
"Rhaenyra" the king called her but the princess left the chambers anyway. You couldn't take this anymore so you went after her, ignoring your father's calls.
You followed the princess. You could feel the fabric of your dress sticking together due to perspiration, you didn't know if it was because of your nerves or because you were practically almost running after Rhaenyra. It was uncomfortable but right now you didn't care. You needed to clear things up with her. You couldn't stand that she hated you.
"Nyra" you called when she finally stopped. You two were in the gardens, in front of the heart tree. Where more than once you had Rhaenyra lay with her head in your lap while you sang her any song she wanted. Where you two used to stay out in the sun complaining about the septa's lessons while you combed her hair. This tree has so many good memories and now you fear there will be no more.
"How could you?!" she yelled at you furiously. She couldn't believe how you had been by her side, comforting her, accompanying her in her grief, remembering the stories the both shared with her mother so that later you went behind her back to conquer her father. When her father told her that he needed to take another wife she thought it would be Laena Velaryon. Not from you. Never from you. You were supposed to be hers.
"Please, Nyra, don't hate me" you begged and grabbed her hands desperately, pulling her closer to you "I swear I didn't want this but my father" you shook your head and forced yourself to continue talking trying to ignore the knot in your throat "I'll find a way to fix this, I promise" you kissed her hands.
The princess studied you for a few minutes. She needed to check that you weren't faking this just to avoid her anger. Your eyes seemed to be glazed over from the tears you were holding back and your hands clung to her desperately.
“I believe you,” she finally said and you sighed in relief.
"Thank you", you said with a shaking voice
This time it was Rhaenyra who kissed your hands and rested her forehead against yours. You closed your eyes feeling at peace for a moment knowing that she didn't hate you.
"I won't marry your father, Nyra. I promise."
If it weren't for the fact that she was now the heir to the throne, Rhaenyra would have told you that you would run away with her, that the two of you would go together on your dragons and travel the world together, and that you didn't need a husband, that if you wanted her, she would take you as a wife. But now she had obligations, she couldn't abandon everything for you even if her heart screamed for her to do so.
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After clearing things up with Rhaenyra you went to your chambers. Of course, your father was waiting for you, he scolded you for your abrupt departure but he left you alone once you told him that you had managed to calm the princess's annoyance. Being alone you decided to put your plan into action, first you took a bath with the purpose of relaxing and getting rid of any trace of nerves you had before, then you put on one of your simplest dresses and placed a hooded cape on top to hide your hair. You were leaving the castle and you didn't need anyone to follow you.
You successfully slipped away and headed out into the streets in search of Harwin. You knew that today he had to stand guard on the streets of Flea Bottom. A girl in your position shouldn't be here but you didn't care. You needed to talk to him as soon as possible.
“Harwin” you called him when you finally found him.
“Lady Velaryon, you should not be here,” said the guard, gently hugging you by the shoulders and taking you to a corner further away from the people.
It felt bad to hear him call you in such a formal way when for weeks he had been calling you by your name or “sunshine”, the nickname he had given you. You remember like it was yesterday when you kissed him for the first time after he explained to you that the reason he called you that was because you brightened his days every time he saw you.
This sudden formality was like a slap in the face and he confirmed what you already feared.
“You know,” you declared sadly.
“My father told me,” he admitted, releasing you. You weren't surprised since Lyonel is on the council and had been present at this morning's meeting. You suspected that Harwin's father thought it would be best for him to find out from him rather than from someone else since you were sure that Lord Strong and your parents knew about the meetings between you and Harwin. You thought it was no secret that he was courting you, but apparently, not everyone knew because otherwise, Viserys would not have chosen you as his wife. Or maybe he knew but didn't care.
“This doesn't have to change what's between us,” you said as you stood on tiptoe to have his face closer to yours. “I don't want to marry the king. I want you” you whispered against his lips but without touching them. Harwin had to control himself from closing the small distance between you and kissing you. “Make me your wife,” you asked before capturing his lips with yours.
You froze when Harwin walked away from you.
“I can't,” he whispered and closed his eyes to avoid seeing the disappointment on your face.
“I thought you loved me” In your voice there was more anger than sadness but your body language was different, you found yourself hugging yourself trying to comfort yourself. You were disappointed.
“I do,” he stated firmly, opening his eyes so you could see that he spoke sincerely. “I love you. If it were any other man he would fight for you but…”
His silence told you everything. He loved you but it's not enough to face the king.
“You're a coward,” you spat and left the way you came.
You didn't really think Harwin was a coward but you were hurt by his rejection. You felt stupid to believe that whatever Harwin felt for you would be bigger than any coherent thought but you can't blame him after all any intelligent person would be afraid to go against the king's wishes and steal his fiancée…
But all was not lost, you knew someone well who was not afraid of Viserys and could help you. It was a desperate move and your parents would think you were an idiot for this but you refuse to be the king's wife. You had seen how as the years went by and with each pregnancy, Queen Aemma deteriorated. You didn't want the same thing.
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You wrote to Daemon. You told him that the king wanted to marry you but that you were seeking to avoid this marriage and that you needed his help. You waited anxiously for his response while you had to feign excitement every time someone talked about your wedding preparations. Luckily it didn't take that long for a crow to arrive with the rogue prince's answer. There were no reassuring words in his letter, the only thing the scroll said was "Come to Dragonstone."
And that's what you did. Nobody suspected when the next day you went on the back of your dragon since everyone knew that there was not a day in which you did not disappear for a couple of hours to go flying with Nightwing.
"My prince, Lady Y/N Velaryon!" The guard announced your arrival before letting you enter the chambers where the prince was staying.
Daemon, who had seen you approach with Nightwing from the window, had his back turned but turned to look at you. He hasn't seen you in months. Your hair was longer and you seemed to have changed the way you dressed. The blue dress you were wearing seemed to have more cleavage, it wasn't anything scandalous enough for the court to talk about but it did draw attention.
"It's good to see you, Y/n" Daemon stated making you smile. You were sure that this was the first sincere smile you had given in days.
You waited for the guard to leave. Once you heard the sound of the door closing, you began to walk towards the prince without haste, trying to show as much confidence as possible. Normally you wouldn't be nervous around Daemon but you hadn't seen him in months and he was the only person who could help you. You didn't want to ruin this.
*I'm wondering the same. These months without you were boring "You weren't lying or trying to sugarcoat it to achieve your goal, it was simply the truth. Every time he leaves court you wish for his return.
"You still didn't come after me" Daemon held back his smile when he saw the surprise in your eyes.
He liked seeing that look in your eyes. Every time he brings you something new from his travels, every time he teaches you a new move in the training yard, every time he asks you for his favor in tournaments. How he had missed seeing her. He wouldn't tell you but he had missed you these past few months. So imagine his fury when after so long the first news he receives from you is that his brother plans to marry you. You are too much of a woman for Viserys. Her brother wouldn't know what to do with you. You would spend the rest of your life bored. Daemon couldn't allow it.
"I didn't know you wanted that," you said, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"I invited you to go with me on my next trip, didn't I?"
Before Queen Aemma's death, when you helped Daemon put on his armor for the tournament you complained about the lengthening of his travels. The prince's response was to invite you to go with him next time. You were so excited to accompany him on his trips that you didn't wait for the tournament to end to ask your parents for permission. But then Aemma died and you didn't dare leave Rhaenyra.
You laughed. “That wasn't a trip, Daemon. Viserys exiled you.”
"And now he will exile you" he mocked, making you irritated but you quickly forgot about your irritation when Daemon placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him, leaving your bodies pressed together. You should be uncomfortable with this but you're not. "You understand? Right? You know what you were asking for when you asked me for help?" He asked, studying your reaction. He needed to see that you really understood what you were about to do. This was your time to repent. But he didn't find uncertainty in your eyes if not desire, you looked at him with pure desire.
"I know," you responded, trying to ignore the flutter of emotion you felt at the intensity of the prince's gaze. You should be against doing this after all your reputation would be ruined but deep down you always wanted to have even a little bit of Daemon.
In reality, there was always a tension between the two of you. More than once you two ended your fights in the yard more irritated than you were before you started because after so much friction, touching, and sweat you both wanted to do something else that you couldn't. You didn't want to be the other woman and Daemon for once wanted to make things right with you. He hoped that one day Viserys would annul his marriage to Rhea Royce to take you as his wife. That day never came but that didn't matter anymore.
"You will take me as your second wife" While you spoke your eyes couldn't help but stop a couple of times on his lips.
Daemon tilted his head a little and gently brushed aside a strand of hair to whisper in your ear "I'll do it. If you want that" you shivered as you suddenly felt his breath on your neck. It doesn't take long for you to feel his warm lips against your skin. You unconsciously stretched your neck, leaving him free to continue spreading more kisses. With each kiss, you felt your body warmer. You can't help but wonder how his lips will feel just as good on another part of your body. “People will talk about us,” he warned, snapping you out of your fantasy.
You knew what Daemon was referring to, not only would it be a scandal if the king's fiancée married another but also if that other is Daemon Targaryen, the king's brother, and an already married man. People who don't understand his family's customs won't think your marriage is legitimate, and if you were to have children with him people would probably think of them as bastards. Also, the court could compare your marriage to one of Maegor Targaryen's many marriages. The kingdom would talk a lot about you two, even your family's name and respect could be damaged by this. Your father might never want to speak to you again in your life and your mother would be disappointed in you. You had thought about all this at night before receiving the prince's response. And yet you were determined to go ahead with this.
“Are you worried that the court will call you Second Maegor? Because I'm sorry to inform you but they already call you that” you said, managing to make Daemon laugh a little. You smiled when you heard him but your smile was soon replaced by a gasp as you felt his teeth biting into your neck.
“A wife shouldn't make fun of her husband,” he said making you roll your eyes, knowing that he wasn't serious and just wanted to mess with you. “If you marry me, this will not be just a marriage in name.”
You weren't an idiot. It wasn't enough for you to just marry Daemon. Viserys might still want to annul the marriage if he saw that you were a virgin but if it was known that Daemon had already had you then the council would tell the king that he should take another wife.
You walked away from him. “Are you afraid of taking me as your wife? You keep walking around instead of ordering them to start preparing everything for the ceremony. “The prince could see the challenge in his eyes and he loved it.” I'm not a little girl, Daemon. "I know what I'm getting into by marrying you."
And those words were enough for Daemon to finally join his lips with yours. There was nothing soft about his kiss, not like Harwin's. This kiss was hungry, you felt like he was devouring your mouth but you weren't far behind either, taking him by the neck, pulling him closer to you. It seemed as if neither of you two could get enough of the other. Finally giving free rein to the desire the both felt for a long time. You felt his hands trying to untie the back of your dress so you walked away from him with heavy breathing.
“Ah, ah, ah,” you hummed, now placing your hands on his chest, hoping to keep a little more distance. “You can't have me until we're married,” you declared, looking at him mischievously.
“You're so fucking annoying” Daemon complained and tried to kiss you again but you pulled your face away with a teasing smile. "Good. But then you won't leave the room until I'm done with you,” he warned you and he gave you a little squeeze on your waist before leaving, determined to prepare everything in the shortest possible time.
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Daemon thinks he'll never get tired of this. See how you move on his cock, how focused you look with every jump you take in search of your pleasure, how you open your mouth and let those sinful sounds escape when you finally find your sweet spot, and above all the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock.
Hearing Daemon's groan overwhelms you. It overwhelms you because, for the first time, you realize that you have power over him. It's too much to hear him say your name like you're a god while you're riding him. See how hungry he is for you, how he can't seem to get enough of you, how he can't go a minute without his mouth on you, without biting or sucking on your neck, without having his hands touching you. By now your body was covered in hickeys, marks, and bruises leaving the trace of your crime on display. You're sure that tomorrow when the maids came to help you dress they would be horrified to see the mark of Daemon's palms on your thighs after he held you for what seemed like hours while he devoured your cunt over and over again.
Your husband noticed that you were starting to get tired but you still didn't want to stop, not when you were already so close to cumming again but you were too proud to ask him for help.
“Let me take care of it,” he said, stopping to suck on one of your nipples.
He knows how stubborn you are so he didn't even give you a chance to refuse when he lifted you off his cock. You groan against his neck as he pushes you down onto his cock again. He begins to move you up and down as if you weighed nothing.
"Faster" you demanded with heavy breathing, feeling dissatisfied with the pace of his movements.
Daemon doesn't hesitate to follow your orders and makes you bounce faster. His grunts and moans do nothing but send heat to your core. You feel your legs tremble at the speed and depth of his thrusts. You want to have your share and leave your marks on your husband too but you can't focus as much time on biting or sucking on his neck when he's fucking you so good. You sob when you finally feel the knot in your stomach release and you cum on his cock.
Suddenly one of his hands leaves your waist and pulls your hair, stealing a gasp from you, making you stop hiding your face in his neck and thus trap your mouth again in a messy kiss.
"You take me so well," Daemon gasped against your lips, feeling your warm cunt not stop squeezing his cock.
The sound of skin slapping only increases the temperature of the room. Like the groans and gasps. Neither Daemon nor you were trying to be quiet, it was more like you were both competing to see who could make the other louder. You should be embarrassed and try to be quieter, that's what a good lady would do but you couldn't care less what people thought, not when you felt so good. And while you felt how Daemon filled your cunt with his seed a petty part of you couldn't help but think that you were hoping that this would reach Viserys' ears, that one of the servants would write to the king to inform him of the spectacle you and Daemon were putting on so that Viserys wouldn't want to have anything more to do with you.
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xveenusx · 1 year
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And Yet..
Paring(s): jj maybank x fem!reader
Summary: two people who should be together simply can't find their way. In other words, JJ can't let himself be loved and can't let her go.
Author's note: This one is brutal so prepare yourselves. Realistically, JJ would totally self sabotage any chance of happiness because he can't handle how it makes him feel so that's exactly what this is. Thank you for all the feedback on 3 seconds! If you like when it hurts, then this is for you!
Part 1: Three Seconds
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He left.
It’d been hours and none of us knew where JJ went, only that he left. While JJ storming off was a normal feat, he always came back.
Now normally, I would have been looking for him, knowing exactly where to look. I’d find him and we’d avoid everyone until he felt like he was ready. This time was different. He never looked at me the way he did today.
A look of pure betrayal.
John B had gone MIA with Sarah while Pope and Kie were handling everything we needed to look for the gold. Me? I was trying to find a way to cope with the sudden JJ sized gap in my life.
It was brutal trying to get through the entire day without collapsing. Everything felt dull. I decided going home and hiding out in my room was the only option. It spared me the looks of concern from our friends and gave me the freedom to cry.
My room felt abnormally empty and cold. My stomach rolled as JJ’s words played in a brutal loop. I crawled into my bed where I curled into myself tightly, hugging my knees to my chest to create some type of pressure.
He’ll come back. He always comes back.
I jolted awake to pounding on my window.
“-wake up. He needs you. It’s bad oh my god it’s really bad.”
Scrambling off the bed, I pushed the curtains aside to see Kie’s panicked face. “Kie, what’s going on?”
Her face filled with relief as she pulled me into her. “We need to get to the chateau now. He’s not making any sense and bought all of this stuff.”
Nausea rolled in my stomach.
“JJ-“
She cuts me off. “He needs you.”
I left the house in seconds, hopped into the Hayward truck and we took off. I nibbled on my nails, glancing at Kiara in the drivers seat. Her face was painted with worry and her leg bopped up and down displaying her nervous energy.
Kie moved one hand from the steering wheel and threaded our hands together, squeezing tightly.
Pulling up to the chateau, I see LED lights tangled up on the trees, shining lights reflecting on the yard. How was there power? The hurricane had taken everything out.
Before I could figure it out, I heard a commotion that drifted up the drive way.
“Where is she? You said Kie was getting her.”
My heart jumped to my throat. I hold onto Kiara tighter as we move toward the raised voices.
Something twisted in my chest as I took in the hot tub and lights suddenly decorating John B’s yard.
JJ is shouting at Pope now, slurring his words slightly, before taking a pull of the champagne he clutched in his hand.
“Look man, she’s here. She’s here, JJ. Calm down.” Pope announced, pointing in our direction, before placing his hands around his head and taking a deep breath.
Awareness ran through me. JJ turned his body to face me, his gaze flicked to mine.
He said nothing yet his eyes said everything. There was an openness that seemed to make him vulnerable.
“You came.”
A tug deep in my chest urged me to move closer. “You asked.”
“Okay, now that she’s here. What did you do, JJ? Where did all this come from?” Pope asked, but we all knew the answer.
“I got a jet going straight in my butt right now. Y’all should get in immediately, ya hear?” JJ laughed, the aviator sunglasses slipping down slightly. His blonde hair slick with water stuck to his forehead as he messily poured champagne into a glass. “Salud!”
Pope let out a noise of disbelief, “How much did this cost?”
“Uh, pretty much all of it.”
I moved around, taking in the inflatable floaties that filled up the yard, while biting the inside of my cheek. He spent all of the money.
“Kie, what? Can’t a man have a little luxury in life?”
I tuned out their arguing. There was a reason he acted out and bought all of this pointless shit but I couldn’t figure out what it was. He knew. He knew he needed to pay for restitution.
A blanket of dread covered my body like an old blanket as the consequences of JJ’s actions finally settled in. Another sense of dread hit when I knew I wouldn’t leave him.
“You could have paid for restitution or better yet, helped us buy supplies.” Pope said, shaking his head in clear frustration.
They weren’t seeing this for what it was. Something was wrong. Yes, he was reckless and rash but like I said before, most of the time he does those things because something happened.
“Okay Pope. Well, I didn’t do that. I got a hot tub for my friends,” JJ choked out, “I got a hot tub for my friends. Screw that, I got a hot tub for my family.”
“JJ, what the hell?” Kie whispered.
Something in her voice made me turn back around quickly and that’s when I saw it.
JJ stood at the center of the hot tub, one hand clutching the champagne bottle while the other hung loosely at his side. His gold necklace moving back and forth shining under the lights, but that’s not what caught my eye.
What caught my eye was the purple and blue bruises that littered his chest and ribs. A high pitched ringing filled my ears as my body felt like it began to float.
This. This was the reason he spent all the money.
My hand covers my mouth as I let out a choked sound.
Hearing the noise, JJ turns to me, his face entirely shattered, tears causing the crystal blue orbs to shine.
“Do you see what I did? Look what I did for you,” He cried out as he held out his arms, staring at me with such vulnerability I could feel my knees start to buckle.
Tears freely began to fall from my face as I took inventory of just how many bruises covered his body.
“No, stop being so emotional. It’s fine, everything’s fine.”
My feet moved on their own accord. Fully dressed, I threw one leg over then the other ignoring the burning from the heat of the water.
He reached for me the moment my body hit the water just as my arms circled around his neck. JJ curled his body into me, the champagne bottle forgotten, his arms circling around my waist digging into my lower back, clutching me like a life line.
My legs knocked together as the adrenaline and helplessness kicked in. I began counting in my head my breaths because I knew in this moment, I couldn’t afford to break down.
Not when he was broken beyond belief.
My fingers threaded themselves into his sun-kissed locks, brushing from the nape of his neck to the top of his head and back again. I pressed my lips onto his head, not letting my grip loosen for one second.
“I love you.” I murmured over and over again as sobs wracked his body, his head in my chest soaking my shirt with his tears. “I got you, it’s okay. I’m here, Jayj.”
I glanced up helplessly and see Pope and Kie staring at us, both of them clearly distraught.
I beckon them over with a nod in my head and instantly JJ and I are covered in warmth. Their arms wrapping around us both, whispering words of love to him.
We stayed like that until our skin got pruny, not wanting to move until he was ready.
When the time did come, I could tell by the way his grip on my waist loosened and his sobs quieted down. Brushing the hair out of his face, I brought my face close to his, “You ready to get out now?”
JJ nodded.
“Kie, can you set out some of John b’s clothes?” I asked her, moving to get out. She nodded and pope followed her inside.
JJ followed closely behind me. His fingers laced with mine, trembling slightly as the night air bit at our soaked bodies.
Shuffling into the chateau, our friends were sprawled out on the couch with Kie strumming away at the ukulele.
“I left the clothes in the spare.” Pope said, his eyes locked on JJ.
I shot him a thankful smile, “Thanks, Pope.”
Once we were in the room, I shut the door as JJ shimmed out of his shorts. Ignoring the heat in my cheeks, I grabbed the towel from the bed and began to dry him.
I could feel his intense gaze on my face the entire time. Biting back a smile, I whispered, “Can I tell you something?”
“Please.”
“I really like the hot tub.”
JJ tilted his head back and let out a surprised laugh. The sound of his familiar laugh caused a wave of warmth to crash over me, causing a zoo of butterflies to swarm my stomach.
“It is a pretty sick tub, isn’t it?” He smiled.
“It is. Very kooky of you.”
He narrowed his red rimmed eyes at me, “Take that back.”
I couldn’t have his my grin even if I tried.
“JJ the kook? I could see that.”
He sends me a cheeky smile in return. Bringing my attention back to the task at hand, I drag the towel along his shoulders before heading towards his chest. My hand stalled slightly as I saw how angry the bruises were, the hue of the purple and blue causing my stomach to churn.
My head moved carefully as I pressed my lips softly along each bruise, fluttering my eyes shut. I feel familiar rough hands tangling themselves in my hair and he lets out a sharp breath.
Opening my eyes, he tilted my head back with his fingers gripped the nape of my neck. A storm brewed in the crystal blue eyes, flicking between every emotion.
His thumb slowly drew my bottom lip down causing his eyes to darken with each passing second,” Thank you.”
Tremors wracked my body at how close we were, our breaths intertwined filtering into my bloodstream.
JJ shifted forward allowing his lips to softly brush mine. The moment my lips parted, he pressed his again almost like he was inhaling my every breath.
Pulling back, he rested his forehead on mine and repeated, “Thank you.”
“I got you. I’ll let you change-“ My words got cut off as he grabbed my arm to stop me in my tracks.
“Stay.”
And so I did.
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I blinked at the alarm clock that read 3 a.m and slowly rubbed the sleepiness from my eyes. I could hear the sound of the skeeters buzzing outside the chateau and felt a strange sense of calm at the quiet.
Reaching toward the other side of the bed , my hands were met with empty cold sheets. He was gone.
I closed my eyes tightly and took in a deep breath as I willed for this nightmare to go away. We still had a lot to work through, but I thought after last night, he finally understood how fucking in deep I was. I was all in, completely and utterly in love with him. It’s always been him.
Pushing my body up, I slowly bring the sheet up to my chest covering my naked body from the cold. A sharp tinge of fear hit my chest as I noticed a presence at the end of the bed that was quickly replaced with an immense sense of relief.
JJ sat on the edge of the bed with his bare back facing me, his elbows on his knees, and head in his hands. A small smile played my lips as I shuffled over, my hands slowly trailing themselves over his shoulders and pressed my lips softly against his shoulder blade.
“Can’t sleep?”
His shoulders tensed the minute my lips touched his body. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”
Confusion filled every fiber of my being as I finally took him in. I could feel the weak stitches that held my heart together suddenly begin to tear.
I opened my mouth and closed it. The backs of my eyes burned as I stared at the side of his face, the face that I spent hours admiring, that refused to even look at me.
“I thought after last night-“
JJ shook his head in disgust and let out a dry breath, roughly tugging at the messy strands on his head.
“We fucked. It’s not like that’s something we’ve never done before. It doesn’t change anything.”
Like I said before, I understand him. I know him and I know exactly what he’s doing. That doesn’t stop every part of me from feeling like I had just gotten kicked in the chest.
“JJ, please don’t do this.” I inhaled a shaky breath as I clutched the sheer tighter to my chest, almost like it was an armor against his cruel words, words that I knew came from a place of panic. Yet, it hurt just the same.
“Do what,” JJ said, getting up from the bed to face me, arms crossed tightly against his chest. “You made it clear what side you were on and it wasn’t mine.”
“Stop twisting what happened. You forget that I know you, JJ. I know you,” I stood on my shaky feet, the sheets wrapped around my body. “You think I dont know why your treating me this way. You’re dad doesn’t decide who you are.”
Desperation burned in my blood as I once again tried to grasp at straws. He was always finding excuses to run from me and each and every time, JJ took a piece of me with him.
“Shut up. I’m not doing this shit with you.”
“You have no idea how special you are do you? How easy you are to love?” It was an honest question, one that seemed to anger him if the clenching of his fists was any indication.
“Stop-“
I cut him off. “Because you are. Special, I mean.”
JJ said nothing. His gaze met mine, and the blue eyes I thought matched the ocean perfectly, showed a battle of emotions.
I took the opportunity to move closer to him, fighting the urge to curl up and cry at the look of utter confusion on his face.
Luke had successfully beat it into him that he was worthless, useless, and would never amount to anything. This, this look on his face was why I stayed.
He didn’t know. He really didn’t know the effect he had on people, on me.
My fingers trembled slightly as I reached to touch the bracelets that decorated his wrist. All of them being gifts from me.
“You’re fiercely loyal to the people you love. The family that you chose for yourself. It’s almost frustrating how you don’t see it,” I muttered, tilting my head up to search his eyes. “I mean, fuck JJ, you took the fall for Pope because you didn’t want his future to be ruined. You went to jail and now you’re on probation.”
“Please, stop.” His plead was weak at best.
My fingers danced along his jaw, my voice wavering slightly at the tightness in my chest. “You sat with my everyday during summer school so I wouldn’t be myself. No one does that, JJ. Especially not here.”
He had to know I was telling the truth.
“So please, listen to me when I tell you that loving you has been the easy thing I’ve ever done.”
Despite the immense beating my poor heart has taken, it still beats with a naive sense of hope.
Hope that sky rocketed when JJ reached forward to twirl a strand of my hair in between his fingers, almost as though he was memorizing how it felt.
“Such pretty little words.” He hummed. “How many other guys have you told that too?”
I recoiled back in shock.
“Pretty little words won’t get you anywhere. You wanna fuck, I’m down. But that’s not gonna stop me from mackin’ on other chicks.”
Then he dropped the strand of my hair, along with every hope that he could love me.
I chose to then focus on my anger that slowly began to bubble to the surface.
“Like who? Your gonna start mackin’ on Kie?” I launched the question at him, my voice raising an octave in disbelief.
“Maybe. At least she knows when to leave.”
“Stop talking to me like that,” My voice broke at the end, the burning in my eyes getting too hard to ignore. “You’re hurting me.”
All I could do was stare.
Here I stood, heart bleeding, begging a broken boy to love me back. And maybe that wasn’t fair for me to ask, maybe it was too much but a large part of me thought he felt something. Even if it was a fraction of what I felt for him because at least it was something.
Anything.
“You’re never going to let me love you, are you?” I ignored the sharp stab in my stomach as I finally said the question I already knew the answer to.
JJ’s head snapped up in shock at my question. “I never asked for you to love me.”
“You showed up to my window every night because you didn’t want to go home. You hold my hand, you kiss me, you fuck me. You come to me when you can’t fucking sleep. You sleep in my bed. You teach me to surf and take me everywhere with you. You ask for my advice and god forbid I don’t answer the phone, you have a melt down.” I was shouting at that point, my voice loud enough to wake up our friends who were sleeping in the living room but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“You need me, I’m there. You got arrested, I bail you out. You get in a fight, I clean you up. JJ, you showed up in my life and surrounded me. You’re fucking everywhere. How could you not expect me to fall in love with you when you do these things?”
The laugh I let out was one of a broken girl, one who had completely lost herself in a wave of chaos known as JJ Maybank.
The door was right there. And yet, I couldn't get my feet to move.
“Because I don’t fucking understand it, okay? Because I’ve never had the luxury of someone looking at me the way you do and it makes me physically fucking sick.” JJ took several strides until he was pressed up firmly against me, his fingers threading themselves into the nape of my neck.
“The way you look at me makes me feel like I’m suffocating, don’t you get that? And yet, I can’t fucking thinking straight when you’re not by me.” He choked out, his face was white with panic.
I could feel myself start to crumble at his words. Welcome to the club. “Yesterday, you said I wasn't enough for you.”
JJ nodded, his eyes staring straight into me with such intensity I had to swallow.
“You know why I said it. You know how I get. The way you look at me,” He swears pounding his hand against the wall,” Fuck the way you look at me. You make me feel like I can be a better person, that I have the potential to do something great.”
“Because you can-“
“No I fucking can’t. You give me this hope that I can be better and then something happens to remind me that I can’t and it crushes me. It fucking wrecks me.”
I roughly wiped the tears that blurred my vision and asked, “So what are you saying?”
The silence caused the anticipation of his answer to intensify, making breathing almost impossible.
“Sometimes, being with you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
Can you hear that? It’s the sound of my heart shattering for the last time.
“Then you have to let me go.”
He shook his head,”Thats not what I want.”
“Let me go, JJ. If not for you, then for me because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. You haven’t even been able to say it back. You completely own me, every thought I have is about you.”
“You own ME.” JJ shouted, his hands in his hair tugging it in anger. “And it completely terrifies me and then I say the first thing I can to make the fear go away just so I can get a moment of peace. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”
In a way, I couldn’t really be angry with him.
No one’s every really described just how dangerous loving someone can be. How they consume every part of you until there’s nothing left. Until suddenly, you can only breathe when you’re around them. When your very mood depends on the expression of their face. The pure feeling of ecstasy that covers your body in a layer of electricity the moment you’re around them and they look at you.
“You love me,” At my words, JJ looked almost relieved, like he finally understood why he felt so many things at once,” but you can’t let yourself love me.”
And yet, despite this revelation, I still couldn’t bring myself to leave.
A tortured look passed his face as he pressed his back against the wall and slowly slid down.
“You need to let me go because I love you to the point that I cant bring myself to leave. So if you don’t want me, if you can’t be with me then do this for me. If you don’t, I’m going to keep giving you every piece of me until there’s nothing left. “
I guess you never truly understand until it happens. Until you get physically ill when they’re upset or filled with warmth when you see them tilt their head back and laugh. When you see them and suddenly the world is just a little less overwhelming, bearable even.
When every fiber of your being is tuned into one person.
Gripping the sheet tighter, I moved in between his legs and settle myself on the floor. The moment I did, JJ engulfed me in his embrace. His presence soaked through my skin leaving the intoxicated feeling in its wake.
“I can’t,” He shook his head fervently, “ I can’t do that.”
I understood him, because I couldn’t either.
“What are we going to do, Jayj?”
JJ pressed his face against my throat, “I don’t know.”
We weren’t okay, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Nothing had been solved and yet, we sat on the floor wrapped in each others embrace.
So I said the only thing I knew to be true and give him yet another piece of me, “I love you.”
“I know.”
There we were. Two souls irrevocably intertwined in a mass of love and hate that were broken beyond recognition. Neither of us being able to leave the other.
And yet, all I could focus on was his inability to say he loved me back.
_____________________
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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months
Text
Just Friends (König x F!Reader)
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How to Get Her Back 4/4 (Word count 7.3 k)
Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.
Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.
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The knife still juts from the table.
She touches it often, fondles the handle like it's her lover.
Days pass, and König escapes her stare with raised shoulders and poorly disguised hurt in his eyes. She feels his eyes on her every single time she's not looking.
He breaks into her room every night, but she never wakes up to his presence. The only thing that tells her the man's been there are the fresh flowers on her table next to the knife.
He brings her flowers every morning, just like he promised, and she keeps the blade there to remind him that he's still in her heart. It's like a silent conversation, and it stabs her stomach full of pain.
On the fourth day, he returns her panties. They're covered in dried cum, and at first, it makes her feel disgusted. Then her heart flutters, a warm feeling settles deep inside her stomach when she imagines him jerking himself off to her underwear amidst his knives, with despair and longing coating the air.
For anyone else, it might be a chilling thing to wake up to: to open eyes to the sight of a brutal tactical knife, freshly picked forget-me-nots and some cum-stained lace. But for her, it's a loving attempt to remind her who she belongs to. It's also a sign that the man is trying to let her go and finally obey her wishes to be left alone.
And she doesn't want to be left alone.
He promised she would never be alone.
On the fifth day, there's no flowers, there's nothing. She starts her day with a horrible, awful bawl. Then she puts on a black dress. It makes her look odd, like she's in mourning, but it also gives her… power, somehow. Even if it's another cute kind of cotton babydoll dress, it makes her look more austere.
“König, wait.”
She chases him down this time: runs to his retreating form that stops the instant she calls his name. He’s tense when she walks the last steps to him and hugs him from behind. The familiar scent of tea tree and gasoline and sweat and guns bring a visceral memory of madness to her mind. It’s an ambrosia of crude virility, and she's missed him, God, that she's missed him.
It's also safety. Because no matter what anyone says, he is the only one who knows her, sees her, sees right into her core, her very soul.
He slowly places a hand on hers, the arms that embrace his narrow, treelike middle.
"Engel…"
The voice comes out tight and strained. He caresses her hand with hesitation and swallows.
"I'm confused.. I don't know what you want me to do."
"Come with me," she whispers in his back. He has no gear on, and she can feel his abs through the black shirt, the way his shoulder blades flare against her cheek with shallow breaths. "If you want…?"
"Ganz sicher."
She takes him by the hand and guides him to her room. People look at them with pity and dread, and she feels like they’re in high school where people were divided into groups of popular and unpopular.
She knows where she and König would’ve belonged. Where they belonged now…
And she just doesn't care anymore.
When the door to her room shuts behind him, she feels a little tug near her heart. She had nearly forgotten how big König looks inside her little room, the space she has tried to turn into a cozy home even though she doesn't view the base as her home like the soldiers do. It's just a place for her to reside in when she's working.
But he does not fit into a normal society like she does. The base must be the closest thing to a home for him. Not every elite soldier is a lunatic perhaps, but König certainly couldn't find any other job in the modern world that would cater to his needs without sending him behind bars.
But he was supposed to kill only in the field. Only somewhere far, far away.
Why did you do it?
Why…?!
That's what she meant to ask when they're behind closed doors, but something quite different comes out instead.
"Did you miss me…?"
She stands before him, holding her hands in front of her, looking probably quite silly clad in black.
"I've been in hell ever since I left, Engel."
Christ have mercy…
Normal men just didn't talk like that.
"Will you forgive me?" He looks her up and down, but the calm, proud posture, the way he holds his chin high behind that dark shroud tells her he's not used to begging. She has a feeling that this question is asked only because Soap suggested it would be a good idea to apologize for making her so upset.
"It's not me you should be–" She sighs. "Look… That man had a wife. König, I think he had a kid and everything."
His eyes are covered in a veil of disinterest only she can pierce. There's actually so much going on behind that odd, distanced stare. But what’s horrifying is that he clearly doesn’t agree with her on this matter.
"I kill people every week," he declares. "Just not in the break room."
His logic leaves her wordless for a moment. The officer was not an enemy, he was not part of some foreign military, his only crime was that he was in a hurry…
She has barely even opened her mouth to speak before he finally defends himself.
"How do you know his wife is not secretly happy with the news?"
The question is like a bucket of ice dipped in her head. She had prepared herself for almost anything but this. König only tilts his head and narrows his stare.
"Would you want to be wife to that kind of man?"
Her mouth opens on its own; her jaw would fall to the floor if it could do such a thing. His worldview unfolds before her in full, and it should disgust her: but all she feels is an odd thrill in her stomach from realizing this man is not only possessive; he's also fiercely traditional.
"He just spilled some coffee on me," she whispers in soft, tender horror. "He just happened to have a bad day."
"How many times a week did he have a bad day?"
The defense is solid, even if it's preposterous. The man was rude and disrespectful, yes. To everyone, every day, probably continued the abuse at home, too. But he didn't deserve to be killed for it. Still, König doesn't seem to find any fault in his way of thinking.
"I can tell when people are evil," he crosses his arms over his chest as a final note.
Evil…
Evil.
She's left blinking, then she finds her tongue again.
"You can't just… deal punishment like that," she huffs.
"Why not?"
Jesus Christ…
His arms are still over his chest, and he looks… so big, so powerful, like an omnipotent being.
Probably thinks he is.
"Will you go to jail?" She changes the subject because arguing with this kind of man seems futile. Downright hopeless.
"No," he says with perpetual calm. "Would you want to see me in jail?"
"...No."
He finally unravels his arms and takes a few steps toward her. That swaying lounge is intoxicating and seductive, even when he doesn't mean it as such. It's just the way he walks, but it makes her woozy.
"Engel. You are too… kind for this world."
More odd arguments are laid out before her, more confusion and love and pain. He raises a hand to touch her arm and make his point clear. The weight of him is heavy and adult, his military clothing is in blaring contrast to her tiny, childish dress.
"You don't understand it now, but perhaps someday you will."
The man looks like he doesn't quite know what to do with her. She's a child in his eyes, but something in this lunacy tells her she's dealing with a child, too: a boy who no one ever loved.
"My little angel. Always wearing pretty dresses," he says more softly now.
"I'm not an angel."
"Yes you are," he rules without effort. "And you look good in everything. But you shouldn't wear black."
"Why not…?"
"Because you belong with flowers."
Her heart aches, her eyes prick with burning tears. He's self-aware, that's for sure. He knows what he has done to her, what he is doing to her. And he wishes to spare her from him.
"I thought you liked black," she peeps, her mind and will and defense breaking.
He doesn't say anything, but his hand brushes down her cheek, then cups her chin softly. That same hand must be ironclad when it grips his enemies and brings them to his blade.
"I like this dress," she tries to quarrel, voice shaking.
"And I know a knife that would go perfectly with it."
His eyes are warm. There's even a passing sadness in them. She's relatively sure that he's not talking about butterfly knives any longer – she's almost certain that König hasn't gifted his weapons to any other human being on this earth.
“How about we take off that pretty little dress now, hmm?”
The time for the compulsory explanations is over in his mind, and it’s time for sex. He knows that his exile has ended, that whatever liminal space they walked in for a few days wasn’t enough to rid herself of him. There’s no turning back anymore, and he looks at her with amused hunger when she obeys his suggestion which is, in truth, a command.
Her fingers do not shake anymore as she undresses for him, but a shiver goes through her guts: that stare is a look from beyond. He’s a madman, and falling more in love with her every day, even if the only way he knows how to love is by stabbing people with his cock or his knife.
“Lie down,” he gives her more orders when she stands before him with nothing on.
It’s futile, completely futile to pretend that she doesn’t want this. It’s almost like an act, the way she slowly and demurely obeys his command. In reality, she wants nothing more than to be devoured by him.
He takes his clothes off while she waits for him on the bed like an injured bird. He rips, then throws his gloves off like they have done something naughty, all the while his gaze is fixed on her. She has missed the sight of that faint hair on his abs, missed that broad chest, missed how his muscles bunch even when he gets out of a shirt that weighs practically nothing in his hands.
The long, veined cock flies out from his pants with a demanding bounce that makes her swallow. They form an odd pair on the floor: her little dress and his huge woodland camos. His eyes are surrounded in black paint under the eternal mask, but otherwise, he's the palest man she has ever seen.
Her breasts rise and fall with aroused breaths as he settles himself beside her, naked and blazing. His cock is pure fire when it gets trapped between them, and he's already drooling hot precum on her thigh.
He's gentle, kind of. Slides a hand over her shivering stomach, palms one breast, then takes a nipple between his fingertips and gives her a pinch.
“Did you miss me too?”
The hood makes him look like a hangman, and he’s infuriatingly patient now. She expected him to rail her like a sex toy right after the door was closed.
"Yes."
He releases her, and the callous descends with a gentle, deliberate caress to her waist.
"Then you're the first who ever did."
She just might be the first woman he's gentle with, too, and she cannot help but think if it's because of what she said just before he killed that poor man. If the last piece of the puzzle locked in place when he realized how much she admired him. If her confession also made him stake his claim in the loudest possible way, announcing everyone that he's her protector.
It's not her fault that the man's dead, but she should be ashamed: she's wet already when the murderer's fingers delve further down to meet her folds. He disappears somewhere in her wetness, and her thighs rise and drift apart to give him full access.
And it's always like this: she spreads legs for him with a helpless, longing stare, he takes in what belongs to him with dark, pleased hunger.
He finds her clit in no time, drags his thumb over it, and she gasps. Her breaths come quick now, her nipples are shot to the sky and her back is already arching when he delves down and slides one finger inside. It's long and lean, and her cunt grips him like they have been apart for four weeks instead of four days.
He sighs under the mask, just from her greedy response. She wants to touch him too, but doesn't dare to move when he's looking at her like that. He starts to finger her gently, first with one, then two digits while attending to the tight nub on top. And he's good with a knife, quick with his hands, so what did she expect?
But she’s also sad and mad. Because he definitely knows what he’s doing. And it makes her think…
"Have you had a lot of women..?"
Her question is a mouse's whisper. His fingers halt inside her; they spread her with delicious torture.
"A few," he says. "Back in Austria."
He buries his face in her neck and nuzzles his way to her ear. The bag of darkness is soft and hot, but nothing compared to his heated whisper.
"But they were nothing like you."
He punctuates the declaration by curling the fingers inside her. She bites her lip to stifle a filthy, needy moan. He even grinds his hips against her: that cock is like a heated spear against her soft thigh, and more cum oozes out to trickle down her leg.
"How many men have had you, Engel?"
He doesn't ask: how many men has she had. She may not be his plaything, but she is his possession. In his mind, she belongs to him and only him, no matter who has come before. But the murderous passion with which he waits for her answer makes her flustered, and she bolts her mouth tight in an indication that she will not disclose this information.
"Gut. Don't tell. I would kill them all."
Oh.
Oh…
"Would you like that…?"
"No," she whimpers.
"Yes you would."
“I don’t–I don't want you to–”
“Shh.”
He’s working those fingers smooth and quick, and she’s already leaking on his hand, probably on the bed, too… The room is filled with sighs and whimpers and sobs as he fucks her with slick, wet sounds. She's close the edge in mere minutes, but he won’t let her finish.
Instead, he pulls out just when she's about to tighten around him.
"Why-why did you stop?"
"Angel... Take me in your mouth," he rasps, breathless too despite trying to disguise it. She briefly wonders if this is some sort of a punishment. That perhaps she’s ordered to give him a blowjob just when she’s about to come – after all, she has dared to keep him waiting for days.
But that’s not the case, it seems, as she moves with heavy limbs to fulfill his wish.
"Nein… Other way around. I want to taste you."
The perverse suggestion in the break room turns into a reality as she realizes what he wants to do. Her heart is pounding when she crawls on top of him to meet that leaking cock. How exactly is that thing even going to fit inside her mouth?
A sudden shyness takes her as her thighs are forced into a wide-legged spread from straddling the broadest man on earth. She's exposed to the cold air only for a second before his breath hits her. The shortest shadow of a stubble on that usually clean-shaven chin meets her soaked cunt with hunger.
“Ah… Take it– in your mouth,” he moans orders to her folds, and her cunt clenches immediately, just from hearing that accent and that voice.
She moves to give him a shy lick, sweeps a tongue over that tip to clean him from all that precum. He goes tense under her and breathes heavily when she wraps her hand around him, wraps her mouth around the weeping slit.
He tastes of salt and sin, and the minute she tries to take more of him in, he groans with a dry throat. It's a hot, broken breath that travels straight inside her. It’s too much – the position is far too stimulating, it’s over the top wicked.
And then he starts to lick her. It messes up the blowjob that has barely even started. She knows his hood must be almost completely off, otherwise he wouldn't be able to breathe.
"Take a bit more, Engel," he urges between the long slathers that already sound lewd. There's simply no way to take it fully in, he’s far too long for that. The last thing she wants to do is gag on him. But she does a good enough job, tries to concentrate on breathing through her nose as she goes as deep as she can.
"That's…more like it…"
It’s a relieved notion somewhere behind her before he continues with the agonizingly slow licks. Fat and flat-tongued, the work of a famished man. For someone who's so clumsy with social interaction, he’s infuriatingly good at giving pleasure to women. The tip of his tongue grazes her clit, and causes a muffled moan – her mouth is full of him but she just cannot help herself.
And arms of steel close around her middle the minute she whimpers on his cock. They pull her closer to his face – he wants to hear her make noise, then, and her will to compete arises. She wants to make him moan too. She ups the pace, flattens her tongue on him every time she retreats…
"Where did you learn to–nnh…"
She nearly laughs at his surprise, at their silly little competition. He's shocked, probably jealous too, of her past and the imagined cavalcade of men who may or may not have been inside her mouth before him. She swirls a tongue around the tip every now and then, wraps her lips tight around him, and goes even deeper.
"Verdammte Scheiße.. I'm not going to last long…"
Strong thighs around her power up, and he has stopped licking her altogether: he's just panting in her pussy and holding on to her hips while waiting for the upcoming wave.
"You know what to do, ja?" He pants that question like she doesn't know he's about to shoot a load on her tongue soon.
"Don't make a mess," he shares advice with a sly tone to his voice. "Unless you want to clean after…"
He gives a short laugh as if the joke is funny. As if that's a clever thing to say to a cleaning lady. It makes her grip him harder, and he's close, so close: he's not even moving anymore, everything's just completely rigid under her body and inside her mouth.
"I'm fucking–cumming…"
He spills with a long groan, moans against her cunt, cries inside her with pain. The seed is hot and heavy, it shoots right down her throat even in this position. She does the best she can to not make that mess, but it's hard work when a giant cock pulses in her mouth.
"You're perfect, angel," he sighs behind her, tries to feed more of himself inside her mouth by rolling his hips.
The praise makes her pump and suck him even more, get every last drop out, and a tremble goes through her lover. She has to take support from the bed until the earthquakes recede. His cock is a clean mess after, and she's a mess too: overworked, and shy, and victorious.
They're both left panting: she tries to catch some breath there between his thighs after everything, but she's not allowed to rest and recover. The grip around her middle pulls her back, and a breathless man trying to lick her like it's the end of the world is not only far too much, it's unbearable. She's already overly sensitive and needy from the four days of barren grief.
"It's too much…" She tries to tell him, but he won't listen. If anything, it only spurs him on.
"König, I can't," she wails softly while resting her head on his thigh.
"Yes you can."
A feverish tongue dips inside her as deep as it goes. It forces her legs apart, she spreads herself all over his face completely unwillingly. There's no mercy for her as he flicks a tongue over her clit, plunges a tongue inside her as deep as it goes, returns to the nub again – does it again and again and again like it's some secret code meant to break her.
"You like that, huh?" His rough voice is muffled by her cunt, he sounds both parched and wet.
"Hm? Talk to me," he demands an answer although it should be obvious that she's losing her mind from his treatment.
"Yes," she mewls while being spread so crudely wide for him. "I… I love it…"
"Hah. You sound like a little cat," he laughs, pleased, then gets to it again. She's so close now that she can feel the growing waves. Her thighs are not just shaking, they're trembling.
"So pretty and so wet," he comments between the licking and dipping, voice covered with smoke from all the lust. And he's hard again, too: right next to her face, and she could cry actual tears – what if he plans on fucking her too after this? It's too much, she can't even take this, she can't…
But she does.
Her back starts to arch just before the orgasm. She's not weeping yet, but every noise she makes sounds like she's crying her heart out.
"Slow down, slow–down, please…"
She's a one-woman choir of tight pleas. She tries to muffle them by burying her face somewhere in his thighs and musk. The tongue dips in and out like he's a machine and not a man, and the first wave hits unexpectedly, like a searing, white-hot blade.
"A–ah!"
The climax swallows her, she starts grinding against that face without meaning to. He only laughs and buries his nose and tongue deeper into her slickness. The arms around her hold her like iron bars, his breaths hit her along with his tongue like she's strapped to a torture device.
Her cunt is sloppy, and throbbing, and he is a torturer, licks her even when she's lying on top of him in ruin: a devastated, trembling heap of a woman who's lost everything.
"Stop–König, you need to stop…"
Her weak whispers do nothing. His tongue sweeps her from front to back until she's crying on top of him. Frail fingers try to claw his thighs but grasp nothingness.
When he finally relents, he does it with another laugh. Then he gives her a last lick: a total bully, snorts a chuckle when a tremble goes through her entire body from just that single, fat sweep.
"Mmm. That was good. Right?"
"M–mh…"
There are tears in her eyes, but not one comes out. Her pussy throbs and winks with the aftershocks, and his hand moves up and down her back like she's that little cat.
"You're mean," she sobs. Complains.
"Heh… you didn't like it?"
"I did," she sniffs, and his hand moves to caress her thigh.
"I know you did. I know you. Everything about you."
He sounds merciful at last, pats her leg softly.
"Come here. I'll take care of you."
When she turns and crawls back to him, his mask is fully in place. He receives her with open arms and speaks more softly than ever.
"I have to take care of you after. Isn't that so?"
"Yes…"
She holds onto him, because he's the only thing that's solid in her world at this point. His aftercare is the most tender thing she has ever known: her hair is being caressed gently, the tension in her neck and back is soothed with long, loving strokes. He buries his mask in her hair and inhales her after-sex scent like it's a whole offering of incense.
"Angel. You feel like… like it's my birthday."
His statement brings another round of tears to her eyes. Instinct tells her that birthdays might've been the only happy days of the year for this man.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?"
He sounds worried when she's so quiet and timid again. Her heart settles slowly into a warm pool of love, she presses herself against him with fervor, and he squeezes her in turn like she's the most perfect birthday present ever.
"No."
I really needed that.
I need you…
"I will never let you go again," he promises. "Never. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she whispers. "I don't– I don't want you to go."
"Little one. I'm so glad I found you."
He takes her palm and uses it to brush away the hood from his lips. The violent edge is always taken away after sex, and the devouring is gentle, the passion is blunt. His kiss is soft; sweet.
"König…" She's raw and bare in his arms, her adoration reflects back to her from his blues. "Why did you pick me?"
"You're the one who picked me, Engel. I just answered your call."
He takes in the effect this truth has on her, then takes her breath away with another kiss. A small giggle erupts in the lazy afternoon as he threatens to crush her with a bear hug. Her hand steals its way further under the mask: she meets smooth skin and a collection of even smoother bumps.
"Why can't I see your face..?"
"It's not a pretty sight," he sighs. "Father liked to cut me when I was little."
The laziness leaves her body that very instant. The man is detached, distant: as if he's sharing something trivial, the city he grew up in or his favorite subject in school.
She doesn't know whether to feel pity or terror, but what he says next sends even more ice down her spine.
"Now I cut those who are evil."
Everything starts to make perfect sense.
Why he was bullied at school, why people fear him. Why disrespectful, cruel men deserve to be knifed and why women and wives are angels. Why he wears a mask.
It's not sound reasoning, but it is a strategy, perhaps. Survival… A defense mechanism.
And offense is the best defense…
She had been right: this man is incurable, only in ways she could never have guessed.
Afterwards, he shows her his knives.
His room is full of them: combat knives, throwing knives, bowie knives, daggers, bayonets, balisongs, two machetes, a kukri, knives she doesn't even have a name for… There's swords and sticks and a riot shield. There's only one bed, nothing more, not even a nightstand.
And the room is also full of guns.
Assault rifles, sniper rifles, shotguns, handguns; there's scopes, tripods, gloves, gas masks, a ghillie suit, pouches, plate carrier vests, magazines, grenades, even a launcher.
The room is filled with violence.
And she didn't know what she expected.
Some "Hot Gun Babes" wall calendar and a few pocket knives? That he would play by the rules and keep weapons and gear where they were stored instead of in his fucking room?
He gives her his third gift that pairs well with her black dress, or any dress, for that matter. Another knife, but not the kind he kills people with, nor the flimsy kind used for entertainment purposes.
She receives an automatic switchblade, simple but pretty. The double-edged blade looks almost feminine, the way it curves into a sharp, dainty tip. The handle is made of sturdy, polished wood; it's incredibly beautiful and so dark it's nearly black. The knife is only a threat when it's flicked open: all in all a piece that isn’t what it seems.
"Hier. Good little blade. Would take it wherever I go."
"Thank you."
"Anything for you, Engel."
She kisses him after his gift. She kisses the white scar on his jaw, lifts the mask a bit more, and he doesn't stop her. He doesn't stop her, not even when she finds more keloid cuts and kisses them too.
And he's… simply a man.
There's a human under all that darkness.
It's not a pretty sight, perhaps, but for those scars, she couldn't love him more.
"You're not afraid of me," he sounds surprised when she takes in the violence done to his face with tenderness in her gaze.
"No."
He's speechless. The barricade covering his eyes is permanently broken, and she can see him, all of him.
She falls to her knees and opens his pants, gives the man another round of love. He looks at her with pain and pleasure; a pale, adoring god. Strokes her hair gently while she gets drunk on him like a succubus, wants him to spill that white on her face and all over her pretty black dress.
"Cum on my face, König."
She looks at him with angel eyes while saliva and drool make a rope from her mouth to his throbbing cock. But there is nothing left of the celestial, nothing more than a sweet, fallen angel, and a safe space just for her and him.
"Please…?"
Ruin me.
He hesitates a few seconds, then grabs his cock in an iron fist like it's heavy artillery.
"Whatever my angel wants, she shall have."
. . . . . .
He brings her flowers every morning and fucks her every night.
Sometimes he catches her when she's outside in the sun, reading a book or watching the clouds. He carries her off to the woods and takes her against a tree like they're the first man and woman on the earth after tasting the forbidden apple. They share a few hushed laughs and more than a few desperate kisses under the hood, then he brings her back to earth, straightens her dress like a gentleman before leaving to have a date with death.
He takes her out to eat sometimes, takes her to the shooting range. Calls her his little Wildkatze when she takes a liking to one of his shotguns. He takes her hand when they stroll through the grass and sings an old love song from his homeland. He has a beautiful voice, especially when he forgets he's in company. Or perhaps she's just special like that…
They share a secret language in the base. Whenever he sees her, he draws his knife and throws it in the air ("I miss you") or twirls it around ("The things I will do to you tonight…"). Sometimes, he just places a hand on the handle of the cruel blade. That stands for 'You're mine'.
It's the closest thing to I love you before either of them have spoken the actual words. Or then it's the closest thing to I love you he's capable of.
She gives him a small smile in return, puts a hand in her pocket and fondles the gift she carries everywhere she goes. He knows it's a nod to his secret messages. It stands for 'You're my everything'.
She keeps the switchblade with her even when she's wearing a dress after work. Red this time, the color of passion.
She wants to surprise him: König always comes to her before nightfall, but this time, she wants to go and visit him. She wants him to take her in the middle of black steel and acrid gunpowder while she's dressed in blood.
"Be a darling and fix me a cup of coffee, will you?"
She's stopped by Phillip Graves of all people. Another man who has never paid her any attention. Apparently, red cloth is the same thing for evil men as it is for the enraged animals in bullfighting shows.
She does stop, but she doesn't obey his wishes. She just stares him down like he's filth: another thing she thought she could never do.
I'm not your coffee girl.
"C'mon honey. I've had a bad day." The man only seems to feed off from her silent scorn: like it's some dark game they're playing now. "You could make it so much better."
For fuck's sake…
Here is a man who disrespects everything about her: her position as a cleaner, her value as a woman, her rank as a shy being who is too kind for this world. She's simply a doll who doesn't know how to kill, who doesn't know how to say no. This man however, won't take no for an answer.
"I'm not here to serve coffee," she says with pure ice.
"Is that so?"
"Yes. And I'm off duty, too."
"Thought we could have a little chat, you and I."
"Why?"
"You seem like an interesting woman."
He seems pleased with the fact that for some reason, she's still here, that he has her attention. Thinks he's winning her over with some yucky flirting.
"And wearing a red dress like that…" He tsks, as if it's a crime for a woman to wear red. "Red can drive a man crazy, darling."
She understands why she has been invisible to everyone except König up until this point.
Because deep down, she knows if she would carry herself in full, show herself to the world as the woman she truly is, she would instantly attract love, and power, and hunger, and lust.
"I'm going to go now, sir."
"Tell you what. You serve me that coffee and I'll let you go."
She catches sadism in that stare. And to think she had always found Graves to be somewhat… arrogant, perhaps, but not cruel. The man obviously has a Napoleon complex, but he was not supposed to be sadistic.
How wrong she has been.
She knows she could just get out of the situation by filling that mug the bastard can't fill himself because of some stupid need to have a powerplay moment with an innocent little girl who happens to wear red.
But she doesn't want to. König would have ripped this guy's head off by now.
"I'm off duty," she repeats.
Fuck these men who are always looking for a plaything.
Graves rises from the chair. She's both cold and sweaty by the time he has taken a step, two, three.
But men are a bit stupid sometimes.
They think dresses don't have pockets.
When he takes the fourth and last step, with joy-tinged cruelty in his eyes, she flicks the knife out and open, and simply stabs him in the supposed direction of the organ called heart.
It feels thrilling, pure power: to sink that knife there and catch a man – a soldier of all people – unawares.
So this is what it feels like…
The hurt in his stare doesn't necessarily come from pain, but from the realization that he has made a huge miscalculation.
He looks down at the small knife that will be the end of him, then at her, the woman he thought was just a simple, shy cleaner he could bully into submission.
"You fucking–bitch," he gasps. Weakly.
By the time she pulls the knife out and stabs him again, she's somewhere far away. It hits him in the stomach, and he still doesn't do anything about it, and that's the moment she finds pity, and mercy, and horror.
She turns and stumbles, then runs from the room, unsure if the thump on the floor behind her is real or imagined.
"You fucking whore…!"
The shout is real enough though, and she runs, runs, with a sharp little knife in her hand for what seems like an eternity. That flight is a prolonged medieval torture moment that ends in front of König's door.
Her titan is as calm as ever when he opens the door, and tilts his head when he sees she's breathing fast.
"I think I killed Phillip Graves," she informs with eyes wide.
He blinks, then immediately looks at her hand, the knife, the blood. She goes to him, lifts a hand to his shirt in a desperate attempt to find support. There's not even that much blood. She thought killing would be much messier.
König said it would be messy.
"I… He…"
Her hands won't even shake. All her senses are blown wide and sharp, she sees everything, hears everything, but her hands won't shake.
Is she a psychopath?
"I killed Phillip Graves," she repeats, looks at his chest, clutches at the knife, clutches at his shirt.
The door behind her closes, and König takes hold of her shoulders with warm, warm hands.
"Well done, Engel," he says with such joy, such unbound pride that it snaps her back into reality.
Her jaw starts to tremble, her teeth clatter, she raises her eyes to him…
"He… He wanted coffee, and to talk, and he liked my dress, and–"
"Did he touch you?"
He asks it like it's far more important than what she has just done. She has to shuffle through her memory, but she finds no recalling of Graves laying a single finger on her.
"No."
He was about to. Right?
He was. He threatened me–
"Don't shed tears for him," König says as he looks down at her with mesmerized awe and infatuation. "I can promise you he doesn't deserve them."
Then he hugs her, squeezes her and just holds her, and she's still holding on to the murder weapon.
What will everyone say? What will my friends say?
"My little angel is good with a knife," the titan laughs proudly somewhere high above her.
People have killed each other since the dawn of time.
These things happen.
I'm not the first murderer on this planet.
"My poor little… He was a bad man, Engel. I promise you that."
It's not a big deal. He was a killer too.
He could've died in the field…
"I'm going to jail," she whispers on his shirt. She wants to let go of the knife, but fears it might hurt him or her when it falls.
And she remembers she's not dealing with normal people.
"They will kill me for this," she says with distant realization.
"No they won't," he strokes her hair like she's the best pet he has ever had. "I will take the blame. It was my knife, ja?"
She pushes herself away to look at him, then nods slowly. Her jaw just won't stop trembling.
"Good girl," he pulls her against him again, so fondly that it forces out a whimper.
"Mh."
"Come here," he coos while already holding her so impossibly close. He's surprisingly good at this: at comforting her. Or then it simply feels uncommonly good to have someone sturdy to hang on to while her life and identity are falling apart.
"I'm not sure if he's dead," she whispers when the embrace lingers on. König breaks the hug immediately.
"You didn't confirm the kill?"
She must look like a shy cleaner again, because his resolve is stone cold and solid.
"Engel, I will go and finish it. Where is he?"
She tells, because he would find out anyway. He would start a manhunt and cause even more ruckus.
But when his hand reaches the doorknob, when he's already about to go and finish her crime on top of taking the full blame for it, he turns.
"Do I have your permission?"
Her jaw slowly stops trembling, and a soft sweetness spreads through her heart. The elite soldier, the mass murderer, asks for her permission.
She is more than just special…
"Yes," she whispers, and he gives her a curt nod before storming out the door.
And he's not living in the 21st century.
Instead, he walks in the world of gladiators, rages in a blood-drunk arena, lives in a time where killing was the norm. He solves problems with physical force: it's just that simple. There is no complex society, there are no rules other than the rules of the heart and the loins.
Anyone who disrespects her will get the blade, anyone who might take her away from him will make him do whatever is in his power to prevent it.
And he has the ultimate power: the power of violence.
He comes back surprisingly clean: only a tiny speckle of blood on his camos and some vivid-colored grime on his hands.
"Done."
She nods with solemn silence. She's done, too. Done with everything, because everything's gone. No matter how high the sun is, she will walk in darkness from now on.
"I believe you Engel. He swore he didn't touch you."
And God.
She might be special, but a dying enemy's, a man's word is more worth to him than hers. As if she would try to protect Graves from his wrath by lying.
And Graves wasn't even dead…
But he is now. Probably tortured too to get the truth out about not soiling her with his paws.
"Did anyone see you..?"
"No. But they will know it was me."
It's another gift to her. Another murder. And her purity, intact, in exchange for a compliment, a testimony of his character during a lazy coffee break. For a few kisses on his scars of abuse. For letting him fuck her like a beast.
Her gifts are burning tears, soft flesh and tight little cries…
His gifts are cold, black steel, hot, white cum and a stream of crimson blood.
"Thank you…"
"I would do anything for you." He bows his head, a little nod to inform her that he is hers to command. "Anything you want, just ask."
She's at home in hell, filled with guns and knives and a fallen god. She knows he will take her again tonight, just like he has done every night in the past weeks. In every position imaginable, grunting, howling, panting, laughing how sweet she is, asking if she likes what he is doing to her. She has always whispered yes through tears of hot joy.
Sometimes, they come together and their gazes lock, and it feels like drifting into a starless space with him. He strokes her hair and coats her with whispers of love before they fall asleep. They always curl up together in the cover of womblike darkness, with soft little smiles on their faces, safe from all evil.
"Can you keep me safe…?"
It's a sad little question, but she doesn't feel weak. She knows he is lost in her too: especially when she's wearing a dress the color of blood, especially when she looks at him like he's her God.
"Please keep me safe."
He comes to her carefully, answers her summons. She's pulled into a familiar embrace, and she doesn't even think about Graves anymore: she thinks about whether König will take her on the bed that smells of acid sweat or on the wall next to the gun rack.
"Always, Engel. I promise."
She holds the most powerful weapon in her tiny little hand. A dark, fallen titan who has risen from the depths of the earth to pledge himself to her, body and soul, while her innocent little dresses flutter in the wind and make everyone believe she's a victim. But she doesn't feel sorry.
Because it's just like he said.
They belong together, she and him.
🖤 🖤 🖤
Taglist:
@ghostinvenus @konigsleftkidney @stillinracooncity @valenspuppy @koionthewalls
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mywifealhaitham · 11 months
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๑’- dan heng, jing yuan, sampo love language headcanons
⚠ ⸝⸝ : just fluff !
★️ AUTHORS NOTE - god hsr has me in such a chokehold I cannot express how much I love everyone in this game... I'll maybe do some requests 2nite... maybe.
✧’- DAN HENG is a more cold and reserved lover. of course towards you he melts just a bit but still keeps up his walls. to me his love language is ACTS OF SERVICE. very few people in his life hold significant meaning so he wants to make sure he shows you that you are on par with him. he'll do anything from helping with small chores to holding your bags when your arms feel so weak.
✧’- JING YUAN is a individual who appears lazy but manages his job as the general of the cloud knights very well. because of this I believe his love language is QUAILTY TIME. he adores even being in your presence and values every second you two spend together. sometimes you both chat away over recent affairs in your lives while playing a casual chess match but sometimes he let's himself live up to his dozing general title and leans against you as you both drift off to slumber underneath a tree.
✧’- SAMPO is a great charmer, perfect for a business man like him. though others are weary of sampo and his occasional tricks, you seem quite interested in him and he feels the same about you. for his love language I feel it's both PHYSICAL AFFECTION and GIFT GIVING. though he uses his sliver tongue to flirt with you he does believe that actions speak alot louder than words and he believes he can't be accused of trickery when all he's doing is hugging you from behind and swaying you both from side to side his head resting upon yours. despite all his silliness he is quite the romantic so expect him to gift you in endless roses and chocolates (no bombs included) and maybe even jewelry if he's willing to spend some extra credits on you.
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celtic-crossbow · 4 months
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I’m a Screamer, Baby, Make Me a Mute
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Setting: Quarry era
Warnings: Poorly written smut, degradation, premature ejaculation, borderline stalking
Summary: Daryl has never been with anyone sexually, his only examples having been Merle and pornography. When he decides he’s out of time due to the end of the world, he sets his eyes on you. He’ll do whatever it takes to have you.
A/N: I’m a little more proud of this than I should be. It was really out of my comfort zone but I really love how it turned out. Written for @dilfsandmartinis
©celtic-crossbow 2023. I do not allow for my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or placed on any other platform without my consent.
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He had waited and watched and watched and waited. You, traipsing around in those cut off shorts that ended perfectly over the contour of your ass. And that tight tank top that hugged your figure, smoothing over every curve. He could almost conjure the perfect image of your bare breasts going off of how the top fit you alone. 
You had gone down to the water to wash up. He knew that because he had been watching you. He knew your routine from the moment you crawled out of your tent until you disappeared back into it. 
He knew he couldn’t wait any longer to have you. He had done everything that Merle would do when he was chasing a woman he’d eventually take to bed. He would cat call as you walked by, swearing that after you glared at him, you’d sway your hips a little more prominently as you walked away. 
He’d casually lean against the nearest tree while you helped gather wood for the fire, humming appreciatively and licking his lips when you’d acknowledge him. “Wouldn’ be a man if I didn’ take notice of a nice piece’a ass.” You would usually call him a pig and throw a stick at him. “Feisty. I like tha’.” He’d adjust himself through his pants right in front of you. 
The truth was, he had no idea what he was doing. He’d never been with a woman before, but knew the basics thanks to his brother’s tendency to indulge in female company nearly on a nightly basis. Sometimes more. Daryl would watch through the cracked door, studying how Merle would interact with his partner of choice; what he would say, how he would touch her. Didn’t seem like much fun for the woman but his brother didn’t seem interested in anything other than getting his dick wet. 
Now, Daryl wasn’t trying to be a creep. He just wanted to be ready. The porn Merle would watch was informative enough about what goes where but it seemed like more of a performance than anything. He needed something a little more personal to go off of and Merle was the perfect specimen to study. 
Daryl had been willing to wait, biding his time for the opportunity to present itself; preferably when his brother wasn’t around to critique the skills he’d picked up. Then the world ended. Realizing death could decide to punch his card so easily was a great motivator. Dying a virgin wasn’t an option. 
So he followed you. He’d never take you against your will. Even Merle’s morality extended that far. But he’d sure make it hard for you to say no. 
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a shoulder against a tree, skillfully hiding the fact that his heart was pounding a tattoo into his ribs. You were getting things ready to clean yourself up; laying out your fresh clothes and a towel, pulling the hair tie from your ponytail. He was getting hard just from the anticipation alone. 
When you popped open the button of your shorts, you decided to look around and make sure no one had wandered down. Daryl wasn’t even trying to hide. Merle never would. When your gaze located him, your eyes widened and then narrowed. You didn’t move to rid yourself of the shorts. 
“Well, don’ let me stop ya. Was enjoyin’ the show.”
“God, you’re disgusting.” You snapped, still eyeing him. “Okay, you can leave now.” He sauntered down to the water’s edge a few feet away from you.
“Why the hell would I do somethin’ stupid like tha’?” He drawled, blue eyes roaming up and down your body. He was fighting hard to keep himself still, to not shift from foot to foot— an action that helped ground him when he was especially anxious. Merle would never. “Y’can go ahead with whatcha was doin’.”
“With you gawking at me? I don’t think so, Dixon. Y’know, there are ways to treat a lady that work a lot better than being a disgusting pervert.”
He chewed on the inside of his cheek, mulling over your words. He could try your way, but he’d never seen Merle gravel for pussy. And he always got it in the end. “Don’ see no ladies ‘round here.”
“Oh, really? Yeah, not interested.” You started to gather your things, much to Daryl’s chagrin. “I’ll bathe some other time. Maybe bring one or two of the other women with me.”
“Hell yeah. Tha’s wha’ m’talkin’ ‘bout. I can handle a couple’a ya. Maybe even three.” He reached down to palm himself through his jeans. He was almost achingly hard but the strained fabric kept it from showing too much. 
“Oh my god, I think I’m gonna throw up.” You shoved past him and stomped back toward camp. 
Once you were out of sight, his shoulders slumped. A swing and a miss. He knew his brother though. Merle wouldn’t stop there. He’d pursue and persuade. 
And that’s exactly what Daryl planned to do. 
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He followed you again the next afternoon when it was your turn to look for berries or mushrooms that were edible. His mouth watered each time you’d bend over to inspect something before crouching to pluck it from the ground and add it to your bucket. 
“Shouldn’ be out here all by yaself.” He stated casually, strutting up behind you. He had to restrain himself from making a grab at your ass. “Ain’t safe.”
“Yeah, from lechers like you.” You retorted, not even turning around. 
The hunter tilted his head, studying your backside, round and plump. Just right for gripping while you rode his cock. Your thighs were smooth with that small gap in between. He desperately wanted his face buried between them, letting you squeeze his head while he tasted you. His cock was already responding to the debauchery running rampant in his head. He’d never seen Merle go down on someone but men seemed to enjoy it in the videos he’d watch. 
“You just gonna stand there and stare at my ass all day? Or are you gonna go and shoot something for supper tonight?” You queried in a flat tone. 
“Darlin’, there’s no way m’movin’ when yer shaking yer ass in front’a me like that. Pract’ly beggin’ me ta give ya wha’ a lil’ slut like you wants.” 
The bucket sat abandoned on the forest floor. You straightened and turned, giving him a look he couldn’t quite read. “Is that what you think of me? That I’d just drop everything and jump on your dick?”
“S’what I know.” The confidence in his answer was nearly betrayed by a tremble in his frame as you stalked closer. 
“Think you’re man enough for me, Daryl?” You stressed his name, stopping yourself right in front of him. He’d never heard his first name roll off that tongue and through the partition of those pouty lips. “Think you can give it to me hard and fast until I’m screaming?”
“Fuck yeah.” He answered too quickly. His voice had dropped an octave; gravelly and breathy. His blue eyes watched you move and before he could register what was happening, your hand was cupping his erection over his pants. 
“I don’t usually let a man anywhere near that would talk to me like you do.” You smiled and gave his clothed cock a generous squeeze. “There’s something about you, though. I can’t put my”— you squeezed again—“finger on it.”
Daryl closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Fuckin’ tease.” He managed. Your hand retracted and he longed for the feel of it to return. Eyes opening, you had removed your shirt; no bra left your breasts exposed to his gaze. He gulped, his confident expression wavering in the slightest way. 
“Come on, Dixon. You’ve been talking a big game. Let’s see how good you really are.” You purred, palming him over his pants yet again. 
Eyes on your chest, he felt a sensation stirring; a strong tingle at the base of his spine that branched out swiftly to map through his veins and straight to his cock. He managed to stifle the sound but had to slap a hand against a nearby tree to stay on his feet as pleasure pulsed through him, his warm spend emptying into his underwear in suffocated ropes. 
He didn’t even wait to bask in the after effects of such an orgasm, snatching your wrist to pull your palm away from his oversensitive cock. “Maybe next time.” He growled, hoping that he had played off what had just happened well enough that you would continue to be curious. 
As it was, he was mortified. Merle would laugh at him tirelessly and crack every joke in his arsenal with Daryl being the punchline. His brother could never find out about this. Returning to the tent, he gave Merle a middle finger when the elder Dixon started complaining about how the others in the camp didn’t appreciate him. Daryl was in no mood. 
His face was burning with embarrassment while his underwear remained against his skin. He rid himself of the ruined article and hid it under his bedroll. He’d burn it later when he was sure his brother was sleeping. Merle could not find out. The camp couldn’t either. 
The shame was enough without involving others. 
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Daryl left you alone for a couple of days, in hopes of maintaining that mentioned curiosity. Thankfully, it appeared no one knew anything about his plight a couple days earlier. He chose to believe that meant you didn’t either. He waited until dusk, when you would head down to the water’s edge. Just enough light left for it to be safe, just enough shadow to hide from any prying eyes. 
He found you just as he had days before, this time choosing to go down to where you stood instead of hanging back by the trees. 
You stood straighter and looked toward the sky. “God, why do you hate me? What is it, Dixon?”
“Hang on, let a man enjoy the view fer a minute.” 
“The view would have been a lot better the other day if you hadn’t decided to leave me standing there, topless!” You hissed in a whisper, as if anyone else was listening.
“Calm down, woman. Jus’ makin’ sure was me ya wanted. Lil’ whore like ya could’a been ready ta jump on any dick.” He stepped forward and let his hands hover over your hips, moving his gaze up to yours with a questioning brow arched. 
“Well?” You stared at him expectantly. “Touch me, goddamnit!” You didn’t wait and pulled him forward, crashing your mouth against his. It took all he had not to moan against your lips. His first kiss and with a beauty like you. He realized in that moment that he wanted to worship you, cater to your every desire. He wanted you to know how much and how long he had wanted you. 
But that wasn’t what you what attracted you to him. You wanted brash and rough and insulting. You wanted Merle in Daryl packaging. 
So that’s what he would give you. 
Roughly pulling you away, he spun you to press your back flush against his chest. “Easy does it.” He growled against your ear, nipping at the lobe. You let out a sigh and your head dropped back against his shoulder. “Desperate lil’ whore. Can’ wait fer tha’ cock, can ya?”
With a smirk he couldn’t see, you pushed your ass back against his groin, making his dick twitch. “Seems like your cock can’t wait for this pussy.” 
Daryl bit back a groan, his hands coming up to grope your breasts hard enough to be painful. That familiar feeling was back again, a heat pooling in his belly with electric jolts stirring at the base of his spine. He was biting his bottom lip so hard that his mouth soon filled with the metallic taste of blood. Your petite hand wrapped around his wrist and guided it into the front of your shorts. The second he felt that wet heat through the fabric of your panties, he was gone. 
He had enough cognitive function to yank his hand free and push you forward, palms on your shoulders shaking as the orgasm tore through him. He was incredibly thankful that there wasn’t enough light for you to see what promised to be a wet patch on the front of his pants. 
“Too fuckin’ eager fer me t’night.” He ground out, spinning on a heel to start stomping away from you. “Le’s see how long a lil’ slut like ya can manage ‘fore any cock in this camp’ll do.” He didn’t turn to see your face. He couldn’t, lest you see the mortified embarrassment coloring his own expression. 
Another failed attempt. Another pair of underwear to burn. 
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It didn’t take long for you to turn to other means of scratching that itch. He sat, cleaning his bolts, watching you flirt shamelessly with his brother. Bending over in front of the man and practically wiggling your ass in invitation. Of course, Merle responded. The elder Dixon gave your backside a firm slap. To your credit, you were great at feigning offense. 
You stormed away from their camp only to return sometime later, sitting yourself so close to his brother that your thigh was rubbing against Merle’s hip. You leaned in while the man talked about nothing in particular. Some racist garbage that even Daryl wouldn’t entertain. The second your fingers reached for Merle’s jaw, Daryl stood straight up from his perch. 
“Y/N!” He barked, fighting off a smirk when you flinched and turned those big eyes toward him. “Need ta talk ta ya.” He was already heading into the trees, his sharp hunter senses picking up your steps behind him. He’d show you that he could be just as appealing as Merle. He’d be better. 
When he felt the two of you were far enough from camp and saw no signs that his brother had followed, he rounded on you to shove you roughly against the nearest tree. “Was right’, weren’ I? Need tha’ lil’ cunt filled so  bad tha’ ya’d let any man take ya.”
You huffed in obvious annoyance. “No. I’m just trying to make you jealous enough to actually fuck me.”
Daryl gulped. He knew this was his last chance. You’d get tired of games and he was tired of playing them too. He released you and stepped back. “Take off yer clothes. And hurry it up ‘fore I change my mind.” He didn’t touch you while you undressed, your lust-blown eyes never leaving him. He couldn’t touch you. If he did, it would be a repeat performance of the last two encounters. He scrambled at undoing his belt, separating the two ends so he could free his already painfully hard cock. “Better be wet cause I ain’t in the mood ta waste time gettin’ ya there.”
He didn’t, either. The moment you were bare, he grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you. Your ankles locked over his ass while he guided himself to your entrance. Thank god, he found you to be slick. He drove into you with a moan, gritting his teeth to keep from cumming right on the spot. “Fuckin’ slut.” Merle was never tender or accommodating, slamming into his prize the moment her legs opened to him. Dary did the same, hard thrusts that had the sound of skin slapping echoing through the trees. He was already about to burst. “Say it. Say wha’ a slut ya are.”
“I’m a slut. I’m a fucking whore! Fuck, Dixon!” Your fingers grasped for his neck, his shoulders. Against everything he knew, he wanted to bring you to your high. He’d seen how it could be done in those pornos. But there wasn’t time. 
With a choked off moan, he pulled himself from you, ropes of cum dousing your ass and the tree behind you. He let himself feel it, reveling in the euphoria that slammed into him in waves so hard that he thought he might black out. 
As he drifted back down, he quickly dropped your legs and stepped back to tuck himself back into his jeans. Shame colored his cheeks. He thought he might throw up. You’d likely tell everyone what a lousy fuck he was, lasting all of two minutes. He was no longer a virgin but he couldn’t celebrate it. “Get outta here.” He hissed. 
You smirked at him. “Not bad for your first time.” You remained naked, leaned back against the tree with your legs apart to give him quite the view. “We can try again if you want and I can show you how to really fuck a woman.”
He stood there, hands on his belt though his fingers felt suddenly inept. “Ya knew?” Yep, he was definitely going to throw up. 
“Of course I did.” You chuckled. Your hands began to roam over your body. Watching you already had his cock stirring back to life, half hard and approaching aching. “You can still call me a slut. It’s hot.” You sauntered toward him, smacking his hands away from his belt. 
Daryl watched you pop the button of his jeans open once again and drag down the zipper. “Fuck.” He groaned when your hand wrapped around him, stroking him to fully hard. “Ya really are a fuckin’ slut.”
“I can be.” You purred, licking a stripe from his collar bone to his jaw. He shivered but managed to scoff and turn his head, though his eyes slid back over to stare at your bare breasts. “And this slut is gonna give you a lesson you’ll never forget.”
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Taglist:
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cassanderasblog · 11 months
Note
Hi, can I request riftan calypse with isekaid reader? I know he's not dilf but the body tho
"His" wife
Yandere! Riftan calypse x isekai'd! Wife reader
Warning: mature content, sexual activities, past abuse , minors not allowed, mention of pregnancy
Author's note: Ok so when i first saw this request I only noticed the word Calypse and I was like what breed of horse is this??? And then I googled it...and then I was like ......thats a very fine breed of horse you have there.⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙ Any way enjoy and my requests are open till today only!!
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(ok i don't know which one to use this man is build like a fucking Greek god to seduce me
(⁠ー⁠_⁠ー) )
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You got isekai'd into the manhwa under the oak tree and more over into the place of Maxmilion right before the day of the departure.
The father of the house was so cold towards you that you wanted to kill him right then and there so you made a plan before you left. At night when he was sleeping you cover his head with the blanket and then beat him till he fall unconscious. ( Yes I woke up and choose violence <⁠(⁠ ̄⁠︶⁠ ̄⁠)⁠>)
In the morning everyone knew that the master of the house was beaten and no one even suspect you because you were too meek and naive in their eyes. Not to make the marriage late they send you off.
The first night when you meet Riftan you told him everything...all the truth that how you are not from this world and how Maximilian was abused and badly treated and how he was lied to in this marriage.
You thought that will make him hate you?? And he will not accept you as his wife?? When you finished talking and said that he can kick you out of he feels betrayed he was shocked.. He pulled you close to him hugging you tightly his large body engulfing your smaller one.
" My love ?? What are you saying how can a I kick my newly wed wife out like a heartless man?? Moreover when I had fallen in love with you?? Noble or not it doesnt matter for me...you are now bound to me and there is no way out. You are to be with me now...and forever....."
Did he really loves you ???
yes!!!
He falled for you when you didn't hesitated to look at him right into his eyes without flinching like other people. For the first time he felt he was also a human ... A normal human . You didn't bowed your head...you kept it high as if you were proud of him being your husband.
When his knights tried to disregard and disrespect you scolded them saying
" I 'was' the daughter of Duke Croyso and now 'I'm' your lord's wife from here on my past doesn't matters.... So if you will disrespect me because of my past then Ill show you how strict i can be as you lord's wife."
" I'm not asking you to bow to me... I'm just asking you to respect me as you respect my husband."
The knights were all ashamed of themselves. Sir Ursuline Ricaydo was more shocked by what you said next.
" I know that my incompetent father had caused a lots of trouble for you and your people but I promise I will do my best to stop that from now own ."
But what shocked everyone was the blushing face of their lord Riftan.... When you retired back to your chamber he got drunk so high that he started to babble that how he liked it so much when you called him "your husband".
Every knight was quite after listening this ... It seems they misunderstood their new lady..... As long as their master is happy they are willing to respect and protect you as they are told to.
Since your marriage day , you knew that Riftan was crazy in love with Maxy and they used to make love a lot but you never accepted him to be like this; he is not letting you go out of the bedroom.
And if by mistake you are out of the bed ????....he would drag you back to the bed  filling you up to the brim again till you are passed out. At first you thought it's just because you are newly married but this???
He always was with you when you were out. Always touching you ..... keeping his hands on you.  You had told him many times that it was inappropriate but he always tells you how touching you keeps him from becoming insane.
It's been 6 months and you are learning magic from Ruth.
You are  a genius in this field as praised by Ruth himself as he never had seen anyone learning so fast. And someone so strong in healing magic. And this learning was a secret from your husband as he didn't liked even when you praised the cook as he was other man.
You tried to laugh his possesiveness off but that's what had lead you to here were you are right now . In the middle of the hall where anyone can see you two ,your back pressed into the wall and bare chest rubbing his armour that he was wearing.
He was pounding into you like a hungry beast. He had been back from his mission he was on for past one month. And when he entered his bed chamber he was told that you are in the library with the mage 'taking lessons'.
You were returning to your room after your maid told that your husband is back. When you were shoved into an armored body. You heard a familiar growl. It was your husband. You looked at him with your innocent eyes when he shoved your back to the wall and lifted your skirt till your lower part was exposed to him.
He took his cock out and shoved it inside you , you whimpered in response. Knowing he was very angry you took his face into your hands and kissed his face.
"I left you alone for a whole month and when im back I didn't see you on the bed waiting for me?? Why is that my wife?? Have not I been a good husband to you??? Why did you left he room to spend time with that damn mage??"
" My husband i...i  .just wanted to be useful for you... I..."
" Hush ...... You are useful to me even without learning anything....you are the reason I'm still alive ....you are the reason I come back every time ...just to see your smile..."
He lifted you up with his hard cock still inside and he started to walk with you towards your room . You were hugging him close hiding your face into his shoulder when you heard Gabel laksion's voice .
He was a knight that Riftan had giving you as your bodyguard. He was a very good person always making you laugh. What you doesn't knew was that Gabel had crush on you and Riftan knew that .
"What happened to my lady name??"
His question was directed to  you . Your skirt was hiding it well that how you were connected to your husband. But he felt it ....he felt you clench around him when you heard Gabel... He smriked.
He lifted your skirt enough to show Gabel how nicely you were milking him. When the cold air hit your bottom you whined loudly trying to hide further into him moaning his name loudly when he  thrusted into your wet warmth with a loud falp sound .
You were loling your tongue out panting resting your head on your husban's chest, when you heard Riftan chukle and say.
"As you can see Gabel your lady is very busy as she is tending her husband's need...... So she can't talk to you right now...."
With that he thrusted hard once again showing a wide eyes Gabel how your juices splurt out when he push himself inside. You whined loudly. When Riftan kissed to side of your sweaty forehead and continue to walk towards your room leaving a very red and flustered Gabel trying to hide his boner.
When you two reach the room he laid you on the bed you were panting your thighs slick with your and his juices and legs speard for his eyes to admire ... He started shedding his armour and clothes and then he undressed you. He entered you heat yet again.
" My wife I'm going to fill you so much with my cum that you will have no other way than to be pregnant....."
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You were passed out on him your body resting on top of his ; his cock still resting inside you when he called for Ruth. When Ruth entered the chamber his eyes had gone wide ....he immediately bowed his head down trying not o look at his lord and his passed out lady .
Riftan pulled your body closer to his. Rubbing your back soothingly he said.
" I don't know what you are taeching her neither I want to know ; as long as it's safe and my precious wife is happy I'll let you teach her. I want you to make some fertility potions and make her drink them regularly till she becomes pregnant........ There are too many rumours saying she is infertile...... I want to show them how fertile my lovely wife can be..."
Ruth nodded in response and Left the room .
"My lovely bird.... How could you think you are not useful for me???? Then allow me to give you my children so that you could feel useful ..."
With that he kissed the top of your head .
Taglist:
@zeniiin
If you like this, then buy me a ko-fi!!
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halsteadlover · 5 months
Text
𝐌𝐫. & 𝐌𝐫𝐬. 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝
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*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader.
• Requested: no.
• Summary: you and Jay finally got married but even on your weeding day you can’t seem to be able to keep your hands off each other so you sneak out during the party to have a quick rendezvous.
• Warnings: smut (18+), dirty talking, lots of cursing, fingering, oral sex (m. receiving) unprotected sex (don’t be like them fellas!!!), semi-public sex, so much fluff you’ll drown in it.
• Word count: 7800.
• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+ minors stay away. I’m actually shit at writing summaries y’all can tell. I’m so excited for this fic so y’all better eat this up 😭 I really hope you’ll like it, please let me know what you think and comment, like and reblog, it’d mean the world. Stay safe and love you all xx
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“And I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”
It was surreal.
You and Jay were finally husband and wife and you couldn't believe it.
“I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you,” he had whispered on your lips when you exchanged your first kiss as husband and wife, your heart bursting with joy and happiness.
On the way to the wedding venue Jay did nothing but kiss and caress your ring finger, still in disbelief you really decided to marry him. You were his, forever.
You couldn’t stop grinning.
Everything seemed more beautiful. The colors were brighter, the air cleaner, the sky bluer, the trees greener.
Everyone present including colleagues, friends, family could see how happy you both were, how much you doted on each other, how much you were in love. There wasn’t anyone who hadn't thought at least once how much they would’ve liked to experience a love like yours. So pure, genuine, crazy, overwhelming.
Jay didn't take his eyes or hands off of you for even a second.
He kept looking at you and the more he saw you smiling, laughing, so happy and carefree, the more he couldn't contain his disbelief. God, he would’ve given you the fucking moon if it meant always seeing that smile on your face. You were so unbelievably beautiful especially in that white dress, which hugged your body so perfectly it seemed to be sewn on you.
My wife.
My wife.
My wife.
He kept repeating in his mind.
How the hell did he get so lucky?
His hand circled your hips with a firm, possessive grip, while his thumb caressed the fabric of the dress that covered your skin. He couldn’t help but stealing kisses from you from time to time, between a ‘congratulations’ and another, whispering how much he loved you and how fabulous you looked in your wedding dress.
“Did I already tell you how stunning you are, my love?” Jay asked as his eyes ran up and down your body, holding you to him with so much passion and desire you felt like you were dying in his arms.
You both had inaugurated the dance floor by doing the first dance and while those present watched the scene with emotion, some of your relatives took videos with their cell phones, unaware of the things that Jay was whispering to you and just seeing with how much adoration you looked at each other.
You smiled as you talked, slowly swaying to the song’s rhythm, unaware of how much your eyes sparkled as you looked at him. He looked at you with just as much admiration, his cheeks aching from how much he was smiling, his heart exploding with joy. Even someone blind could tell how much that man loved and adored you, how much he venerated you, how much he worshiped the land you walked on.
“You're not half bad either Mr Halstead,” you replied with a cheeky smile, unable to take your eyes off him and how wonderfully the suit he was wearing looked on him “God, I just want to rip your clothes off right now,” you continued, not realizing you had actually said it out loud.
Jay's arms tightened around your hips, pulling you further into his body and trying to hide how that one sentence made him feel. “Baby don't talk to me like that… I'm already trying so hard not to drag you away right now. You really want to make me lose my mind?” He warned you in a low tone, his lips brushing your ear before leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. He then sighed with frustration making you chuckle. “I don't think I can last the whole day.”
The song came to an end before you could respond and before you knew it everybody was drunkly dancing around you.
Your feet were sore as you and Jay danced with friends and relatives and you would’ve paid gold to take off those damned torture machines.
Seriously, why did heels have to hurt so much?
You were hot, sweaty but happy, like you had never been before. Jay wasn't much for dancing so he eventually went to talk to some other guests but he was having the time of his life and couldn’t take his eyes off you as he watched you dance, the way your body moved to the music, the way your curves were hugged by your wedding dress, the the way you sprayed happiness from every pore.
The love he felt for you was so unconditional, powerful and intense in such a way it took the air out of his lungs, it made the blood boil in his veins, it consumed him deeply, burned him from inside.
He had never once in his life felt anything like this, not until he met you. It felt like constantly being punched in the stomach every time you looked or smiled at him, it felt like his heart skipped a beat every time he heard your laugh, making it dance to that melody he couldn't wait to hear for the rest of his life. That kind of love was so profound that even when you were sad or cried, he felt like a piece of him was being ripped out of his body, especially when he couldn’t do anything to make you feel better.
He lived for you, breathed for you only, to a point he couldn’t even function when you weren’t by his side.
“Okay, okay, enough, I'd like to dance with my wife now,” Jay's voice made you turn and you almost tripped over your own feet when your eyes landed on him.
He was standing behind you, looking at you with a gorgeous and mischievous smile on his lips, his hands shoved in the pockets of his suit. He exuded confidence from every pore of his body and you couldn’t even explain how you managed to get that man. He was so charming, so dreamy and insanely hot, he completely took your breath away.
My husband.
Wow. How the hell did I get so lucky?
You smiled at him and the friend you were dancing with raised her hands in surrender. “She’s all yours Halstead but treat her right or I’ll kill you.”
His eyes traveled down your body, running his tongue over his bottom lip after biting it as his gaze devoured you with so much intensity and desire that every cell in your body lit up on fire. “She’s in excellent hands Clara, don't worry.”
“Ugh you’re disgusting. Stop eye-fucking my friend in front of me.”
You laughed as he wrapped an arm around your waist, now looking at Clara. “Can you blame me? C’mon look at her.”
“I’m still here and I can here you, you know,” you intervened, giggling as your arm encircled his hips too.
“I'm watching you Halstead, just remember that,” she warned him with an amused look and pointing her finger at him before walking away and going to grab another drink.
Jay then let you go and turned your body to his, holding out a hand towards you, finally meeting your gaze again. “Would you give me the honor of this dance, Mrs Halstead?”.
The way that name slipped from his lips made you melt like a snowman under the heat of the sun's rays, God how much you loved the way it sounded.
Mrs Halstead. Fuck me.
“The honor is all mine Mr. Halstead,” You grabbed his hand and before you knew it you were already pressed against his chest while his arms wrapped again around your hips possessively, almost as if he was afraid to let you go.
“My gorgeous wife” he whispered while swaying to the rhythm of the music. A rush of shivers ran down your spine forming goosebumps all over your skin. “Do you have any idea how much you drive me crazy? I’m so obsessed with you baby.”
His lips left small, sweet kisses on your lips, making you have a hard time to respond. You giggled as his beard tickled you meanwhile he planted chaste kisses along your cheek and neck. He inhaled your scent deeply, a scent he’d never could live without.
“And I’m so obsessed with you.” You wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands slid down the small of your back, resting chastely on your ass. “You make me so insanely happy Mr Halstead.”
Anyone who saw you two would say you were just a beautiful couple dancing happily on the best day of their lives.
But the things Jay was whispering in your ear were far from innocent, they would’ve made even a porn star blush.
“God I can't wait to take this dress off you,” he had said as your bodies moved in time to the music. He had turned you around, pressing your back against his chest and wrapping his arms around your waist. There was a lively song playing at the moment, the bass so loud you could hear it across the room and you couldn't deny you were grinding against him more sensually than you would other times on purpose.
You couldn't control yourself, not when it came to him.
Jay had the ability to make you give in with just two simple words whispered in your ear. Normally you couldn't keep your hands to yourself for a long time, your sexual chemistry had always been high and this moment was no different. You wanted him so badly you almost forgot you were on the dance floor celebrating your wedding.
You almost moaned when you felt his erection pressed against your ass, hard and sore, repressing the instinct to get on your knees and pull down his pants in front of everyone.
“Baby,” he murmured against your ear, leaving wet kisses on your neck. “God the things I would do to you now…”
Your stomach tightened in a vice as the heat in your lower abdomen continued to expand. “Tell me darling. What would you do to me now?” You replied in a question, pressing your ass further against his dick.
God I hope no one notices.
Jay let out a sigh that went straight to your pussy, making your legs clench in desire. “Fuck please stop, I can't take this anymore,” his arms tightened around your hips even more, as if trying to let out the frustration. He felt like he was exploding and the more you kept grinding against him, so sensually to the music’s rhythm, the more he wanted to rip your dress off and fuck you in front of all the guests.
You turned towards him again, placing your hands on his chest and caressing him slowly and sensually while batting your eyelashes seductively as you looked at him.
Jay thought he’d come in his pants just from the way you were looking at him.
His eyes were now hungrily fixed on your lips, which he wanted so desperately wrapped around his hard dick.
“So?” You urged with a smirk on your lipstick-covered lips. “What would you do to me baby?”.
Jay placed his hands on your face, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “You really want to know what I would do to my wife right now?”.
You were so desperate you nodded as if you were possessed, God, you would’ve done anything that man asked you. That man that was now your husband.
It's so surreal.
He licked his lips as his eyes moved up and down your body for a moment, quickly but at the same time imprinting every detail of how that dress looked on you in his memory, before returning his eyes to your face and tracing with them the outline of your lips.
“It would be better if I showed her, don't you think?” he whispered against your lips, making you forget again you were in public and not just the two of you.
“Wouldn't it be better if I just showed her the way I would take off her dress and get on my knees for her? Wouldn't it be better if I showed her how much I want and desire her by licking her pussy and every bit and drop of her wetness until her legs tremble? By fucking her so hard until we both forget our names? By being buried so deep inside that sweet little cunt of hers that she’s gonna feel me for days?”.
He pressed his lips on yours in a chaste and sweet kiss, in stark contrast with the things he was saying to you. “And show her how hard I am inside my pants just by looking at her in this dress? Show her how happy I am that she’s my wife? That I get to keep her forever?”.
That's it.
You slightly pulled away from him and grabbed his hand before leading him away from the dance floor and out of the wedding reception, not caring if someone actually saw you two leave. Your free hand held the edge of your dress as the two of you walked down the hall. He followed you like a puppy, a stupid, inebriated smile on his lips, his body quivering with anticipation and frenzy.
You arrived in front of a door that marked ‘storage room’ on its nameplate and looked around noticing that no one was there. You opened the door and pulled Jay inside with you and before you could even fully turn towards him, his hands were already on your face and his lips had captured yours in a kiss that took the breath out of your lungs.
He closed the door with his feet as he devoured you in a passionate and devastating kiss. Never letting you go, he removed one hand from your face before locking the door, returning his full attention to you immediately after.
He didn't know why but that was one of the most beautiful and breathtaking kiss you had ever exchanged, so overwhelming it made his knees weak and his stomach twist.
It may have been the fact that was the first real and passionate kiss as a married couple, maybe it was because he could finally call you his wife, because he could do this for the rest of his life, but all of this drove him like crazy.
“God I want you so much baby,” you breathed out in a little moment of separation. He didn't give you room to do or say anything else because he started kissing you again so intensely that a hit train would’ve been less crushing.
You slightly parted your lips and his tongue slid in your mouth without hesitation as they moved in sync against each other. Your dragged your hands along his chest, touching every bit of his body you could reach, almost shaking from the frenzy and desire of wanting to touch his heated skin.
A deep moan vibrated in his throat when you sucked on his tongue, making him lose that shred of sanity he had left. He pushed you against the wall, his body pressed against yours as he continued to kiss you passionately and greedily.
“You'll be the death of me,” he murmured against your lips as he planted kisses up your jaw and down to your neck. His tongue wet your skin as he nibbled it, his lips sucking at the same time making you gasp and writhe in pleasure. “I want to fucking rip this dress off you.”
You giggled – since the feeling was pretty much reciprocated – eyes still half closed as you enjoyed the sensation his lips gave you. “Don't you dare, it was expensive as fuck.”
He suddenly pulled away from you and a cold feeling took over you at that distance. His eyes traveled down your body and how your wedding dress hugged every single curve perfectly, fuck, it felt like it had been sculpted on you, like it was made just for you to wear.
He just wanted to take a good look at you, imprint in his memory every single detail of you in your white wedding dress.
But the way he looked at you, God. He was like a predator about to haunt his prey, glaring at it with desire, ready to capture it and devour its flesh with voracity and hunger. You felt so beautiful, like you could rule the world, like you were unstoppable, and you could only thank your husband for that.
“Fuck baby…” His chest rising and falling heavily due to that ardent kiss. He bit his bottom lip so hard he thought it’d start bleeding. He shook his head slightly as he continued to look at you lustfully, as if he could hardly believe you really existed, that you were actually his. “My beautiful, perfect wife…” He sighed. “I could just come from looking at you damn it.”
You pulled him back to you by the collar of his jacket and had to use all the strength you had in your body not to tear it off him along with that shirt. You kissed him again as your hands roamed down his body. You just couldn't take it anymore, you felt you’d explode soon or later if you didn't have him immediately.
You slipped his jacket off his shoulders, dropping it to the floor and hastily unbuttoned his shirt, eager to finally touch him, feel his skin against yours.
He did the same, unzipping your dress and you pulled away as he helped you step out of it. You didn't care if it got dirty or even ripped, you were just eager to finally have him, to feel him, your mind too foggy to think about anything other than Jay. But he took your dress instead of dropping it on the floor and placed it on an empty chair there.
This gesture made you smile with happiness and with every passing second you couldn't help but think about how you couldn't have chosen a better man to be your husband.
It was only then that Jay realized what you were wearing underneath your wedding dress, that vision alone almost making him fall unconscious on the floor. You were wearing one of the sexiest and most breathtaking white lingerie he had ever seen you wear and this made him regret not dragging you out that dance floor sooner.
My fucking wife.
“Baby… Jesus Christ…” he sighed heavily as he looked at you with so much lust and hunger, his mouth and his eyes wide open. “You… Wow… You’re so fucking beautiful… Holy shit…”
“I guess you like it then,” you giggled like a schoolgirl and grabbed his hands, pulling him back to you. He wasted no time touching you, caressing your curves and sliding his hand down your back until he grabbed your ass. He squeezed and massaged it with so much passion you were sure he’d leave some marks.
“Is this what you were hiding from me under that dress? Fuck if I had known I would’ve fucked you on that damn dance floor in front of everyone.” He started to grind his pelvis with yours and making you moan when his hard dick pressed against your intimacy.
“Jay please…” you sighed as he continued to grind against you, making you lose your mind. God you wanted him so much you it hurt.
His lips kept brushing his lips against yours, pulling back when you tried to kiss him and chuckling at your frustration.
“My sweet beautiful wife,” he murmured and placed his lips on your neck, on that particular spot that he knew made you lose your mind. A small moan left your mouth as he began to lick and suck at your skin again and you tilted your head, giving him more access. “I can't wait to be inside you.”
You grabbed his face and pressed your mouth on his, kissing him voraciously and passionately. It was like you were burning inside, as if your soul was trying to escape from inside your body and merge with his.
You had reached the point where you couldn't hold on for a second longer, you wanted your husband, you wanted him to take you there against those cold walls while all the guests danced in the wedding reception unaware of what you were doing.
You frantically unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers and freeing his hard erection, after sliding his shirt down his arms and leaving him naked in all his glory. You wrapped your hand around his erected dick and he let out a throaty moan, so fucking sexy you found yourself squeezing your legs together for some relief.
“Fuck yes…” he groaned as he struggled to continue kissing you while your hand pumped up and down on his dick. “I want to fuck this pretty mouth so bad,” he placed a hand on your cheek as his thumb caressed your lips. You took it into your mouth, licking and sucking it while your eyes were fixed on his.
He stopped when another loud moan left his mouth and he tilted his head back, his mind too clouded with pleasure. “Shh… You don’t want anyone to hear us don’t you love?” You smirked as you let go of his thumb.
“I don't give a fuck, I just need you,” he whimpered in an increasingly desperate tone.
“Yeah? How bad do you need me baby? Tell me,” you whispered sensually, biting his bottom lip as you slowed the pace of your hand and earning a frustrated verse from him.
“Fuck… Stop playing with me,” he warned you while at the same time his hips buckled up to meet your hand’s motion. You drew imaginary circles on his tip with your thumb, wet from the stain of precum. “Fucking tease,” he hissed before kissing you again. It was a sloppy and messy kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, your saliva mixing with each other.
“Now get on your knees.”
Your pussy clenched at the sound of those words and you were never so happy to obey. You were about to kneel down but before you could, he picked up his jacket from the ground and placed it in front of you, making you smile like an idiot.
If there was one thing that Jay cared about more than anything it was knowing that you were comfortable, everything else came second and this was one of the many things you loved about him: how thoughtful and caring he was, even at certain times you always came first.
“I love you so much, you know that?” You kissed him sweetly, making him smile.
“It’ll be better for you since I put a ring on that finger.” He chuckled. “And I love you so much more.”
Your heart exploded in your chest and you kissed him one last time before kneeling down, your eyes still in his as he watched with attention every little movement you made.
You jerked him off again before moving your face closer to his dick, sticking your tongue out and he almost fainted… Fuck, he wanted to take a picture of that moment so badly, he would’ve printed it out and hung it all over your home because that vision alone was pure heaven.
Maybe it wasn't a proper thing to do to compare the image of you with his dick in your hand and your tongue sticking out to heaven, but he was too distracted to think about it.
A deep, guttural moan escaped his mouth as you traced a long wet line with your tongue from the base of his dick to the tip, which went straight to his pussy, forcing you to squeeze your legs together again.
“Ah holy shit…” he sighed, breaking off with another moan when you drew circles on his tip with your tongue just as you had done with your thumb not long before, tasting the saltiness of the leaking precum. “Fuck baby please stop torturing me…”
You smirked before wrapping your lips around his veiny dick and taking it fully into your mouth, starting a steady rhythm as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whimpered in pleasure as the heat of your mouth enveloped him. His eyes were half closed, his lips slightly parted as he struggled to maintain control and not make any noises. But it was so fucking hard, especially when your eyes were looking at him with so much sensuality they took the air out of his chest, not when your mouth was making him more ecstatic than any drug that existed.
“Yeah baby just like that… Oh yes… My sweet girl…”
He threw his head back, giving you a perfect view of his neck, his prominent jawline and veins and that alone was one of the hottest, sexiest things you had ever seen in your entire life.
His moans filled that little storage room and you hoped for a second no one was passing by or they would’ve surely heard him, but this thought immediately vanished, too caught up to his pleasure to care about the rest of the world.
Jay began to move his hips, fucking your mouth and hitting the back of your throat with the tip of his dick. “Shit, shit…” he loudly moaned “God you’re so fucking pretty with my dick in your mouth.”
And it was true.
You were so breathtakingly beautiful. Especially with your watery eyes, the mascara running down your cheeks, your lips swollen and pink as they continued to grind on his shaft, back and forth, again and again.
You tried not to gag while he continued to fuck your throat with particular voracity but it was almost impossible, just as it was becoming difficult to breathe as his dick kept completely filling your mouth.
“Y-yes baby… Oh fuck… That mouth of yours will be the death of me.”
Even though you were the one on your knees, you felt so powerful. Damn it, how much you loved knowing you were the only one who could make him feel this way, that you were the only one whose mouth he could fuck so mercilessly it almost made you choke on his dick, knowing that his moans, his sighs and whimpers were only and solely for you, knowing that it was only you who was making him lose his mind so badly.
He placed a hand on your head, threading his fingers into your styled hair, tugging and making you moan onto his dick. God you loved it when he did that, and he knew it.
Sensing you were having trouble breathing, Jay pulled his dick out of your mouth, taking it into his hand. “Stick out your tongue.”
You did as he said, feeling every cell in your body go up in flames.
“Such a good girl. My baby is so good for me."
He smirked as he began to slam his dick against your tongue which left a long stream of saliva on it, his other hand still in your hair as he continued to maneuver your head to his liking.
“You like that huh? You like being my pretty little slut?”.
“Fuck yes baby, please use me.”
He put his dick in your mouth again, letting out some of the most borderline pornographic moans you’ve ever heard along with strings of obscenities and profanities.
“My wife is so dirty… Oh god yeah… She likes being dirty for me?” He groaned and you managed to nod while looking at me through your lashes. It didn't take long for him to feel the orgasm starting to build inside him and he had to stop, not being able to hold on any longer.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck stop baby, you're gonna make me come,” he panted as if he'd run a marathon, stepping back and letting his dick pop out of your mouth. “I… Fuck, I need to be inside you.”
Before you could say or do anything, he helped you get on your feet and pressed his lips to yours still swollen, wet and pink from the killer blowjob you had just given him. He pressed your back against the cold wall but you didn't care, you were too hot to notice.
A moan escaped your lips this time when he moved your lace panties to the side with his fingers and slid them over your pussy.
“Fuck… Baby, ah yeah…”
“So fucking wet god… You drive me insane, I can't wait to be inside this pussy,” he kissed your neck as his fingers drew imaginary circles on your clit giving you the pleasure you so much needed.
Your hips began to slowly rotate following the same movement he was doing, your mind clouded with pleasure as you felt yourself already on the verge of an orgasm. God you were so horny, you didn't think you'd ever been this eager to fuck him.
“Look at that, fuck me, you're soaking my hands baby…”
“Bab-… Fuck yes… Please…” you babbled senselessly, struggling to keep at bay the moans and sighs that had taken the place of Jay's and were filling the storage room at that moment. “I… I can't…”
You wrapped an arm around his neck while grabbing his bicep with the other hand, trying to find some support because you felt like you’d collapse on the floor at any moment.
Your lips nibbled and sucked the skin of his neck making him sigh in your ear, on one hand to keep your almost uncontainable moans and on the other because you wanted to mark him, because you loved seeing what you did to him, you loved knowing he has only yours.
“Ah yeah… Fuck…” you hissed, biting down on his skin when he penetrated you with two fingers.
“Yes baby, fuck yourself on my fingers. Show me how much you like when your husband touches you like that.”
“J-Jay… Oh shit… I need you please…” you managed to stammer between moans. You felt like you were about to come but you needed to feel him, you needed his dick inside you.
Jay pulled his fingers out and you almost had a heart attack when he brought them to his lips. Without his eyes ever leaving yours, he licked away every trace of your fluids, humming with pleasure as he tasted you.
“You taste like heaven, I can't wait to lick every fucking drop and make you come on my face.”
“Jay I'm about to lose my goddamn mind. Please hurry up.”
He chuckled and brought his hands to your ass, pressing your half covered pussy by your panties still pulled aside against his dick, making both of you sigh with desire.
“What do you want baby? Tell me.”
You grabbed his face with your hands, pressing your mouth against his and sliding your tongue inside his when he slightly parted his lips. His hands continued to massage your now red ass, pressing his fingers hard as you kept grinding against each other.
“I want my husband to fuck me against this wall,” you whispered against his lips, pink and swollen from your impetuous kisses, your noses brushing.
My husband.
These simple words made him feel a sensation he couldn’t quite describe, an explosion of emotions that caused an electric shock to go through his entire body, which made his heart beat wildly and his legs feel like jelly.
It was pure melody.
It was so sweet and sexy at the same time, it made him was so happy he felt like he was touching the sky with a finger. He was your fucking husband and he couldn’t still fathom the idea he really managed to make you his wife.
Jay crashed his lips against yours again, sucking out that little trace of your soul you still had left in your body. He was eager to possess you, to feel you, to show you how much he loved and wanted you.
His hands lowered to your thighs and you took that as a sign to jump into his arms. With almost astonishing ease, he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck.
Your back was pressed against the cold wall but it didn't bother you, you couldn't even feel it. With one hand he held your thigh, while the other stroked his dick a couple of times before aligning it towards your entrance, penetrating you with a single slow thrust and making both of you to let out a loud and deep moan.
“Jesus Christ, fuck…” he moaned, using every ounce of his will and strength not to come instantly. His other hand settled on your thigh again and his fingers pressed so hard they felt like they were going to tear your skin at any moment.
Jay had his face buried in the crook of your neck, his lips wide open as if trying to get some air, his breathing quickened.
“Shit baby you feel so good inside me,” you breathed out as his dick stretched out every corner of your vagina. He wasn't even moving and you were already falling apart. “Please move…”
Jay pulled out of you slightly just to penetrate you again, this time with more force. He started moving his hips slowly, in and out of you, making you crave for more. But it didn't take long for him to start fucking you like his life depended on it, his thrusts now stronger.
He was thrusting so deep you could feel him in every corner of your body and a piece of you disintegrating with each passing second. Your arms held him close to you, your fingers on his shoulders while your nails slid across his skin, leaving marks that would probably stay there for days.
“God baby I can't get enough of you, f-fuck…” he groaned in your ear as his lips left trails of wet kisses on your neck and his tongue licked your sweaty skin.
You tried to answer but the pleasure was so intense, so high you couldn’t get anything out of your mouth other than a moan or a whimper. It felt so fucking good you couldn't even describe it.
A particularly loud moan escaped your lips as he gave a particular deep thrust, making you almost jump out of your skin as he hit your G-spot. “Oh my fucking god… Just like that… Oh yeah baby…”
“That's it, moan for for me princess. You’re being so good.”
He raised his head from the crook of your neck so he could look at you. You opened your eyes and met his eyes shining with luxury and passion, his pupils so dilated you couldn’t see the green of his irises.
His dick twitched inside you as he continued to fuck you against the wall mercilessly, and seeing you so deeply in the throes of pleasure, your mouth slightly open, your cheeks flushed, your eyes half closed… He was going crazy.
You kept looking at each other’s eyes, extending the deep connection between you two to another level. It wasn’t just your bodies that were fucking, but your souls too and you would’ve payed gold to stop the time and live this moment over and over again, forever.
“I love you so much baby, God I love you.”
“Fuck.” He crashed his lips into yours in a messy and sloppy kiss due to the continuous gasps interrupting you. You rested your forehead on his, both covered in a thin layer of sweat.
“Mine.”
He kissed you as his dick soaked with your fluids continued to thrust in and out of your pussy.
“Mine.”
He kissed you again.
“Mine.”
He kissed you once again, sucking and biting your lower lip but stopped by another moan as your walls clenched around him making him struggle to even stand still.
“God… Oh yes baby keep going… Please…” you spluttered and closed your eyes as you felt your orgasm take over you.
“Don't close your eyes, please look at me… Ah Jesus… Fuck yeah keep clenching around me like that, you’re such a good girl for me baby.”
You did as he said as you placed your hands on his face looking into his eyes and feeling that sensation of pressure twisting and clenching your insides.
“I love you, fuck… S-so much…” you cried out again now, your mind completely gone. Your eyes started to water from the intensity of his thrusts and you felt like you were going to implode in that same instant. “I'm coming, I'm coming, I’m coming please don’t stop…”
A loud moan escaped your lips as an overwhelming orgasm hit you like a truck, almost giving you a heart attack. Your arms encircled his neck again, your nails scratching the skin of his shoulders.
You didn't know if you could die from an orgasm but damn that was exactly how you felt. It was like someone made you fall from a ten-story building without a parachute.
Jay exploded in an orgasm after a few more thrusts, filling your pussy with his cum until the last drop before pulling out. He exhaustedly rested his head on your shoulder leaving small, sweet kisses on your neck.
The silence that now reigned in the storage room was only broken by your panting while you both tried to catch your breath as if you had just run a marathon.
You felt so good in that moment, like your body was floating in space and you didn't know if it was the thrill of being discovered, if it was the wedding, but that was the best sex you had ever had.
“God I can't feel my body anymore,” you murmured and he chuckled as you stroked the hair on the back of his head, leaving kisses on his cheek in the meantime.
That little room smelled of him, you and sex and you had never smelled a more sublime fragrance.
“Can we stay here forever?”.
“I'm afraid we still have a party to attend,” he tiredly chuckled again. Jay raised his head to look at you, a stupid smile on his lips, his heart happy. “Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are angel?”.
You smiled and gave him a kiss on the lips, this time sweet and gentle in contrast to the ones exchanged so far. “And you're a flatterer Mr Halstead, I know I look awful right now, my makeup is all ruined.”
“You’ve never been more beautiful than you are now Mrs Halstead. You look like you've been fucked properly.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, already starting to imagine the jokes and teasing your friends would make as soon as they’d see you, not to mention the embarrassment in front of your relatives and family.
You decided you’d think about this at the right time.
After both of your regained a bit of strength again, Jay carefully put you down but wrapping an arm around your waist when your knees buckled and you nearly fell to the ground.
“Wipe that stupid grin off your face,” you commented with mock annoyance when you noticed the smug, proud expression he was looking at you with and the way he was trying not to chuckle.
“I take full credit,” he laughed and before you could respond he silenced you with a kiss, making you forget what you even wanted to say.
After getting dressed, Jay helped you put your wedding dress back on, zipping it up your back and helping you fix your hair and what was left of your makeup as much as he could. He left a kiss on your right shoulder as his hands stroked up and down your arms. “I don't want to go back there.”
He kept planting kisses on your shoulder and up towards the crook of your neck and your jaw until he reached your cheek which he insisted on, making you smile stupidly. His arms wrapped around your hips from behind, pressing your body against him and holding you until you were almost breathless.
“Where did the ‘we have a party to attend’ go?” You teased him, meanwhile placing your hands on his and caressing them.
“I want you all to myself, I'm not ready to share you with other people again, plus now I want to fuck you again.”
You laughed, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Already?“.
“Already? Baby I would spend twenty-four hours a day and seven days a week buried deep inside you, don't act like you don't know me c'mon.” He kissed you again. “And above all seeing my cum dripping out of you and this damn lingerie drives me crazy, you can’t seriously expect me to resist you.”
You turned to him and cupped his face in your hands before pressing your lips against his as his arms encircled your hips again. A flock of butterflies exploded inside your stomach and he kissed you breathtakingly, making you lose the ground beneath your feet.
“I love you so much,” you whispered between kisses, forgetting again that the two of you had been locked in that storage room for God knew how long. “I'm so happy I married you.”
He smiled as you kissed him again, almost making you kiss his teeth. He’d never get tired of hearing it, no matter how much you had said it. “God baby I love you so much more.” He held you even tighter, as if he wanted to somehow get under your skin and steal your soul, which he had actually been doing for so long.
“My wife, my wife, my wife,” he continued to whisper, stealing several more kisses from you, kisses that he actually couldn't even manage to give you because of the way you couldn't stop smiling.
“You make my heart so happy.”
“Stop you're going to make me cry,” you hit him lightly on the shoulder covered by his jacket, feeling your eyes fill with tears.
God, could you love someone so much it hurt? Because that's how you felt.
You loved that man so much. So intensely you couldn't sleep when he wasn't there, so much you missed him even when he was just a few meters away from you, so deeply you couldn't imagine a life without him since the moment you met him.
You had always dreamed of an everlasting love, the kind that took your breath away just by thinking of it, that fairytale love, that love you had always read in novels and seen in films and Jay Halstead gave you all this and much more than you ever imagined or deserved.
He was peace.
He was home.
He was everything you had ever wanted and more.
Jay took your hands in his, bringing them to his lips and leaving a kiss on both of them, focusing in particular on your ring finger. His eyes shone like the ring’s stone at that moment and you looked at them mesmerized, thinking about how lucky you were to be able to do this all your life.
“We should go back there…” you murmured in a low voice, already sad for having to break that little bubble in which you took refuge even if not for a long time.
He snorted like a child but nodded. “I can't wait to have you all for myself.”
He intertwined his fingers with yours before unlocking the door and peeking out for a moment to see if anyone was nearby.
“Shit,” he muttered, immediately closing the door again when he saw a waiter walking down the hall holding an empty tray.
You let out a laugh when you saw his expression and he covered your mouth with his hand. “Shh, they'll hear us.”
“Baby we were fucking against the wall ten minutes ago, I'd say we're a little late for that don’t you think?” you whispered back, taking his hand away and looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
He playfully rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah whatever. Now kiss me.”
Before you could say anything he pulled you towards him by your hips, pressing his lips on yours. His body was pressed against the door and yours against his, your arms around his neck and his around your waist as his hands slid on your ass while you made out like teenagers hiding from your own parents.
“I'll never get tired of kissing you, it'll never be enough,” he whispered against your lips, nibbling and sucking your lower lip, making you sigh.
“I know what you're doing, stop it. Until proven otherwise it's still our wedding and we have to celebrate it,” you admonished him, dropping your hands to his chest and slightly pushing yourself away from him. You got a sound of disappointment in response, just what a child would do.
“You know what’s a great way to celebrate? Having sex. C'mon baby, come here.” He tried to put his hands on your hips again but you took a step back, crossing your arms over your chest in mock disappointment.
“We have a whole life to have wild sex. You don’t want to celebrate your wedding with your wife?”.
“Drop the act baby, I’m not falling for it,” he boop your nose with his index finger, a gesture that immediately made you smile even though you tried so hard to hold it back. “Of course I want to celebrate with you, that's not what I meant. This is the best day of my life.”
He chuckled before grabbing your hand and moving away from the door. He opened it again and like a few moments before, he checked no one was coming. When he realized that no one was passing by at that moment, you both left the storage room and he closed the door behind you.
You both smoothed your dress even though it was totally useless, anyone from a mile away could tell you had some hot sex just some moments before.
But you didn't care, it was your day, yours and Jay's and damn, you were free to do whatever you wanted even if it meant sneaking out of your own party to have sex in a storage room.
Okay, it wasn't a very proper thing to do but what could you say, all couples consummated their marriage on their wedding night, you and Jay had just rushed things along.
So you walked hand in hand with your fingers intertwined towards the wedding reception, both of you with a stupid and joyful smile on your faces and happy as you had never been, ready to get drunk and finally start your life together.
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stinkylittleanon · 1 year
Note
Ooooh welcome home requests
.....maybe some snuggle hcs for wally if that's cool I just wanna pick him up and twirl him and squeeze him so hard he squeaks like a dog toy
If that's cool of course
OH MY GOD I KNOW I'VE BEEN AWAKE FOR 23 HOURS BUT!!! I NEED TO WRITE THIS, I GOT SUCH A SILLY IDEA FOR THIS!!!
Wally snuggle headcanons!!!
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So first of all, it all starts out with Wally talking to Julie! They're having so much fun as Wally is sketching something!
But... Then there comes you! You're walking by, thinking about something...
And with you being taller than Wally... You pick him up from under his shoulders, shocking the poor guy AND Julie
"Sorry, I'll be takin' him" "Oh! Okay! Have fun, Wally! Have fun, neighbor!"
You walk off with Wally, holding him under your arm like a football and he kinda just... Let's you
"What do you need, neighbor? Why have you taken me?"
And when you casually take him over to a tree, sit down with your back against it, an hug him while he's on your lap... OOOOH this man is over the moon.
He hugs back, resting his chin on your chest while he stares up at you... Kinda creepy, but you just keep snuggling with him! To the more basic headcanons!
Cuddling Wally is actually super sweet and super nice
His hair is fluffy, and all of him is just fuzzy... He's unusually cold, but you're so warm...
He specifically likes when he can face you and wrap his arms around you. He likes looking at your face... You just look so peaceful
It becomes a daily occurrence that you AT LEAST give him a hug. It's like a little greeting
Pick him up and twirl him as much as you like! He kinda goes limp on your arms and you're free to snuggle as much as you want!
he does squeak btw... Just... Just to let you know-
OH MY GOD When he's laying on his stomach and doodling, just scooch up next to him and cuddle up next to him and watch him draw... He loves it...
He goes... Oddly quiet when you two cuddle, and his pupils get big
But his focus is on you. And only you. And how nice it feels to have someone close...
Just...
be careful...
He might get a bit too clingy
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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months
Text
JJK men with drunk reader part ll
You can find part l with Choso and Nanami here
Pairing: Geto x reader; Megumi x reader; Gojo x reader
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: harrassment in Geto's and Gojo's part, breakup in Megumi's part, HEAVY (and I mean it) mentions of smut in Gojo's part, I'm sorry if it's shitty As always, I apprechiate every little comment or reblog. Thank you my loves <3
Suguru Geto
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You’ve had the greatest night since forever, celebrating your birthday with your closest friends.
“Okay, one last shot, come on!”
You give in to your classmate Kenzo who literally pushes you to the bar. To be honest, you are already full to the brim and it is definitely past midnight. But still, you let him grab your hand, dragging you behind him while he orders two shots of your favorite liqueur.
“To you, sweetie.”
In a normal state of mind, you’d probably immediately turn him down. Kenzo has been hunting after you since he first laid eyes on you, always trying to push forward a relationship. And while you do think he is a decent person, the spark simply never spread.
But tonight you had way too much drinks to bother about his wording. With a swift motion, you empty the shot glass with one gulp, smiling triumphantly at the man in front of you.
“Hey (y/n), we’ll leave now”, another friend of yours announces.
“Oh yeah, I’ll leave soon too”, you reply with a sly grin.
“You want us to wait for you? You really shouldn’t walk home alone anymore, (y/n)”, the concerned voice of your bestie shouts over the blasting music.
“Nah don’t worry, I’ll go to the toilet now and then call a taxi.”
“Fine. Take care of yourself and make sure you go home alone”
She embraces you in a tight hug. With one last glance at Kenzo she and the others leave.
Suddenly everything seems to be too much for your overstimulated brain. The loud music, the constant glimmering of lights, the sweaty people surrounding you and especially the alcohol that makes you feel dizzy and a little unwell. Yes, it really is time to go.
“I’m gonna pee an’ leave”, you mutter into Kenzo’s ear before turning on your heels and walking towards the toilets.
Damn, you’re really not feeling well anymore. That last shot was definitely too much, you can’t even walk a straight line, even pulling down your panties seems like an impossible act at this point. A glance into the mirror reveals your pale face and sunken eyes. Yeah, you should call it a day. Let’s just get this over with and call a taxi.
You make your way back to the bar, back where you’ve seen Kenzo the last time. Even though you have absolutely no nerve to talk to him right now, you force your way through the crowd of people.
“Will leave now. See ya.”
Without waiting for his reply, you push through the crowd of people to the exit, wobbly legs barely able to even stand on your high heels any longer.
The fresh air of the night hits you like a wall, almost making you throw up. Fuck, you feel like shit. You’ll definitely regret drinking that much in the morning.
“Hopefully I don’ have to puke…”, you mumble to yourself.
While holding onto a tree for support, you kick off your shoes, almost falling into a nearby bush when picking them up.
“Much better…”
The streets are lonely, almost therapeutic at this point. Maybe you don’t even have to call a taxi. After all, you’re only living a few blocks away from here. This shouldn’t be a problem, right?
“Hey, (y/n)!”
Urgh, that voice. That all too familiar voice you really don’t wanna hear anymore tonight.
“What’s up, Kenzo?”
“I can’t believe you’d leave without me!”
You blink at him, face showing absolutely no emotion while you desperately try to not vomit all over him. What’s up with that pick-me guy?
“Told ya I’m goin’ home now.”
He takes a few steps towards you, eyes darkening. Oh no. No, no, no. Even though you’re definitely very very drunk, this gives you chills. This can’t be a good sign. God, please just let him pull some dirt out of your hair, please let him-
“There’s something I wanted to talk about with you for a while now, (y/n).”
Geto didn’t mean to spy on the conversation that lays itself out just a few meters away from him, but he can’t help himself. The two of you probably left the nearby club while he gets home after exorcising some curses. Well, lives can be so different.
“Oh please don’t”, a female voice replies.
He has to squint his eyes in order to see who’s talking. A quite tall man who positioned himself in front a woman. She doesn’t seem too eager to be this close to him, though. Should he help you? No, he shouldn’t interfere.
“Just one kiss. Just one kiss and you’ll see that you like me too.”
The man grabs her shoulders violently, forcing himself onto you.
Geto should just keep going-
“Let me go!”, you scream out, your weak attempts to push him away failing miserably.
He can’t. With rapid steps he walks towards you both, pushing the man so hard that he stumbles backwards.
“I think the lady said no”, Geto notes calmly, positioning himself in front of you.
All you can do is stare at the scene with glossy eyes. Fuck, is it your fault that it came this far? Of course you always knew that Kenzo has feelings for you. You just never thought that he’d…force himrself onto you like that. But far more important is the man that came to save you, that man with his black hair in a neat bun wearing a black uniform. That man that looks so striking that you can’t take your eyes off him.
Who is he?
“This is none of your business!”, Kenzo barks at him.
“You might be right, but I can’t let you force yourself onto her, can I? Now please lower your fists and go home.”
He’s talking so friendly, his voice so soft and melodic that you just have to listen to him. You hold your breath, watching Kenzo’s every move.
“Please just leave, Kenzo. I told ya over and over I don’t wanna be with you”, you mumble.
“Get out of the way!”
It happens faster than you are able to even think. Kenzo lunges himself at the stranger, fists flying through the air. It only takes him one swift motion of his arm to knock Kenzo off his feet, landing in the grass butt first. His other hand is firmly pressed against your shoulder, keeping you at distance to the scene that folds itself out in front of you.  
You have to blink a few times, mind still trying to process what just happened. Kenzo wanted to force himself onto you. That man, that absolutely breathtaking handsome man saved you with just one motion.
“Are you alright?”, the stranger asks in your direction, smiling at you so charming that you forget to properly breathe for a moment.
“Y-yeah…”, you stutter.
“We’ll talk about this when I see you again, (y/n). I won’t forget that”, Kenzo coughs out while lifting himself up.
“We sure will man”, you bark at him.
With one last glance at you, he turns around and stumbles away into the darkness of the night.
“I hope I didn’t scare you too much, I just couldn’t watch this. Are you really fine? You look a little pale to me”, the stranger speaks directed towards you.
The second he turns around to fully face you you are lost. He is much taller than you, huge frame lingering over you like a shadow. Despite his hair being in a neat bun, one single strand of hair frames his delicate features so perfectly that you can’t look away. And that smile…
You are mesmerized.
“Can you hear me? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
You vehemently shake yourself out of your daydreaming.
“Nah, I’m alright.”
“Maybe a little drunk”, the stranger comments with a grin.
“Yeah, that’s for sure”, you mumble, a small smile creeping up your face.
“Are you living far away from here? I’m not comfortable with letting you walk around this late at night all one.”
“It’s a nice lil walk. But if you want to keep me company I wouldn’t be mad. Who are you?”
“My name is Suguru Geto. What’s your name?”
“Huh, what a nice name for a nice man…”, you spit out.
Fuck. Why are you always talking so openly when being drunk? This is definitely not the right time to get saved by a handsome guy.
Suddenly he begins to laugh at your comment, scratching the back of his head with a little blush creeping up his delicate cheeks.
“Don’t flatter me. Let’s get going, shall we?”
“Yeah…”
Even though you carry your heels in your hands, walking seems like an impossible mission this late at night after drinking so much. Your eyes focus on the pavement as hard as they can, mind telling your unruly feet what to do.
“Let me hold these for you.”
Gently, he takes your heels and carries them for you. Oh my, why does he have to be such a gentleman? A striking beautiful man with a character of gold is definitely stuff where dreams are made of.
“Why where you out there this late at night?”, you ask through the silence of the quiet streets around you.
“I just came back from work”, he replies.
“Oh, that’s rough buddy.”
Where the hell is he working this late at night with a fine uniform like the one he’s wearing? Definitely somewhere important.
“God, I love guys in uniform…”, you mumble more to yourself.
But of course he heard you, heart almost beating out of his chest by the way you gaze up at him. Despite you’ve probably been up all night long and what you had to endure that evening, you still look breathtakingly gorgeous.
“Who was that man? Did you know him?”
It’s not wise to get lost in your appearance. After all, he saved you from being harassed. Doing the same thing isn’t appropriate at all.
“Yeah, that’s Kenzo. He has a crush on me since a few years now. Guess he saw a chance because I’m drunk…”, you explain briefly, rolling your eyes just thinking about that jerk.
You’ll definitely confront him and then never talk to him again. What a creep.
Before you’re able to properly understand what’s going on you begin to fall over a breach.
Just a second before you hit the ground full force, a pair of strong arms catches you mid-air.
“Hey, are you alright? Don’t worry, I’ve got you”, Suguru notes, his hands holding you in place.
You don’t know what to do, eyes completely lost in his brown orbs that look down at you gently. His arms feel muscular against your back, making your breath hitch. God, how is this man so attractive? And why on earth is he so kind to an idiot like you? Your hands hold onto his broad shoulders tightly, not daring to let go. It feels as if he light a firework inside you you didn’t even know existed.
Is this the alcohol? No, definitely not.
“I will get you back on your feet now, okay?”, he breathes out while Suguru’s very own knees go weak by the way you gaze up at him.
You continue to walk in silence, both minds racing and hearts pounding out of your chests.
“Here I am…”, you finally mutter.
“You didn’t even tell me your name yet”, Suguru speaks out, kind eyes fixated on yours.
“If you want to see me again, find out and meet me…”, you purr, amazed by your own courage.
“Fine, I will. Have a good night. And don’t meet up with that guy again”, Suguru replies, pulling you into a short hug that leaves you absolutely speechless.
God, please let this man find you when you’re sober.
Please.
Megumi Fushiguro
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He lays his eyes on you the whole time. The way you just sit in the corner of the room, staring into the cup in front of you with empty eyes. While Megumi isn’t the type to party himself, you were always outgoing, confident, everyone’s sweetheart at every event. Seeing you like this at a birthday party doesn’t match this at all.
Why does he bother, though? He never failed to tell you to slow down, after all. Wouldn’t it be strange if he suddenly approached you like that?
“Huh, looks like (y/n) isn’t feeling that well”, Yuji comments beside him.
“I thought so too…”
“She and her boyfriend just broke up. Now she’s sitting there after gulping down some drinks…”, Nobara explains.
Megumi’s heart skips a beat. The two of you broke up? He always hated that guy, the way he treated you like shit and even worse, made you feel like it too. You should be glad it’s over just like he is.
Stop. He shakes his head in disbelief over his own thoughts. Why would he even bother about your relationship? You are nothing more than friends, going to Jujutsu High and fighting together. It isn’t more than that…
Right?
“You should go talk to her, Fushiguro”, Yuji suggests suddenly, making Megumi almost lose his cool.
He, talking to you about your relationship?
“Why me, idiot?”, Megumi mumbles.
“Because you have the best connection with her. No go”, Nobara persists, shoving his body your direction.
No, there’s no way in hell he can have that talk with you. Maybe he’s spilling the beans, maybe you’ll think he’s a weirdo.
Or even worse. Maybe you’ll get the idea that he likes you more than a friend.
Mindlessly, Megumi grabs a cup from the table, pouring down whatever it contains. He has no other choice, though. You’re feeling miserable and he can’t see you like that.
“Hey, how are you doing?”, he greets you before sitting down next to you on the couch.
“Oh, ‘m fine…”, you mumble.
He can tell by the way you smell like a sake factory and your stumbled words that you’ve drank a lot tonight. Megumi swallows, slipping back and forth uncomfortably next to you.
“Actually no. He broke up with me, ‘Gumi…”
Tears swell up your eyes all over again. You shouldn’t be sitting here like a fool, all depressed over a boy who never really loved you. No, you shouldn’t drink so much that you might forget his name. It’s not about him, though. It’s about the way he made you feel like shit, as if you aren’t worth being loved by someone.
And maye…Maybe he’s right with that. Your relationship lasted only 4 months. Maybe it is your fault, after all. Maybe you aren’t someone to be loved.
“I’m sorry to hear that”, Megumi replies.
“Don’t be. The relationship was shit anyways. Just like him…”
Megumi furrows his brows, trying to understand what you mean.
“Then why are you sad?”
Urgh, you hate the way Megumi looks at you, it’s not hard to tell that he’s judging you behind those eyes.
“Never mind, I need fresh air…”, you mumble, standing up so suddenly that your head spins in confusion.
Fuck. Megumi curses himself for being so dumb. Why did he ask such a question? Why did he just let you go like that while he’s still standing there, looking after you like the idiot he is?
Instinctively, his hand grabs another cup before he begins to run after you.
You hate the way tears run down your cheeks all over again. Damn, drinking was definitely a bad idea. While you do feel even better after a few sips of sake normally, the alcohol seems to strengthen your sadness when you’re down already. Angrily, you wipe over your face, try to stop yourself from feeling this depressed over a damned boy.
Megumi’s heart shatters when seeing you outside, your tears glistening in the moonlight. He clenches his hands into fist. God, just thinking about that jerk…How could he hurt you like that?
“Hey”, he gently mutters, his hand brushing over your back.
“Get lost”, you mutter into your hands.
Why does Megumi have to be here right now? He has never seen you cry. No, not in a million years you would have cried in front of him. But at the moment, everything seems to be crashing down on you, life a pile of pain.
“I won’t”, he remarks.
“Maybe it’s because I’m drunk or maybe I’m just being sensitive right now but…Megumi, do you think I’m the problem?”
His fingers stop right in their tracks, eyes darted towards you in nothing but disbelief. Did you really just say that? Is this really how you feel about yourself?
“I don’t want something like that coming out of your mouth ever again, (y/n).”
Suddenly Megumi is so close to you that you can feel his breath brushing against your face, eyes only inches away from yours.
“This guy was a jerk, he never deserved you anyway. You could do so much better.”
With him. You could do so much better with him.
“I know, this isn't about me having feelings for him. But what if I’m the problem, Megumi? Maybe I’m just hard to love…”
Megumi himself doesn’t know what’s happening to him. Is it because he himself drank more than usual or is it because you are drunk? He can’t tell. But at the moment, all he is able to do is grabbing your face and pressing his lips against yours.
He waited so long for this moment, even though he was never able to admit his feelings to you. But how is he supposed to keep his composure when you’re standing in front of him like that, tasting like mohito and tears you shouldn’t be crying out?
“You are definitely not hard to love. Believe me, I know it best”, he mumbles against your lips.
Your sharp and fast breath brushes against his opened lips, glossy eyes gazing up at him. Did Megumi really just kiss you? The Megumi Fushiguro who told you over and over how much he dislikes you? The Megumi Fushiguro who never really showed his feelings to anyone?
“Megumi”, you breathe out.
“Maybe it’s the alcohol, but I love you. I have loved you for a long time”, he mumbles.
“Finally!”, Nobara suddenly cries out.
Both of you break away from each other immediately, your face heated like fire.
“You see, Fushiguro? Wasn’t that hard, was it?”
“Can you just leave you idiots…”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
“Tell me (y/n), is he a good kisser?”
“NOBARA!”
Satoru Gojo
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You can’t help but admire your boyfriend on the dancefloor, his sunglasses reflecting the neon light so well. God, what a beautiful sight he is, how absolutely gorgeous.
“Enjoying the view babe?”, he shouts your direction.
His voice magically attracts you. Without thinking twice you make your way to him, arms wrapping themselves around his neck while you rub your butt against his crotch. The way his gaze lingers over your body makes shivers run down your spine, drunk mind wandering to places it shouldn’t be in.
“I’d rather enjoy you, babe”, you purr into his ear.
How is it that you have a few cocktails and start acting like a horny teenager? Satoru doesn’t mind, though. Quite the opposite, he loves it when your attention lays exclusively on him. In a crowd full of good-looking man, he is the only one you stare at shamelessly.
And he is the only one who’ll take you home tonight.
“I’ll grab a drink, don’t run away from me”, you seductively note, hands roaming around his broad chest before letting go.
“You’d have to stop me from following you instead, babe.”
With a last grin, you disappear in the crowd. Damn, how did he get so lucky? You’re the best thing that could have happened to him, a woman that turns heads on a regular basis. And you’re his. Exclusively his alone, the only man who gets the pleasure to see your striking body, the only one who’s allowed to hear your cute little moans.
“What is a cutie like you doing here on her own, huh?”, a black-haired guy next to you suddenly hushes into your ear, his breath of sake almost making you retch.
Ew, who is this guy and what the hell does he want from you? Even though you get it on from time to time, something about than man tells you that he’s off.
You are way too drunk and horny to deal with him right now.
“I’m not on my own, thank you”, you remark dryly, watching as the bartender mixes your swimming pool.
His body draws uncomfortably closer. So close that you can feel his disgusting body heat against yours.
“You sure about that? I’m not seeing any guy around here.”
Stay cool, he will leave when he finally gets that you don’t have interest. One last comment will be enough to get rid of him.
“That’s because you’re not looking close enough, asshole”, you bark back.
Faster that you are able to react he grabs your wrist, roughly forcing you to face him. Well, you definitely didn’t expect this. You dizzy mind races, trying to think about what to do next.
“Get your hands off me, idiot”, you shout at him, desperately trying to free yourself out of his iron grip.
“You’re a little drunk, huh? That blush on your cheeks, I can see you like that…”
You can feel his hand before he even speaks a word, his sheer presence making time stand still for a moment. This man will hope he never stepped into that bar tonight.
“You’re touching something that’s mine.”
His voice might sound calm to an unexperienced listener, but you know all too well that he’s cooking on the inside. If there’s something your boyfriend hates more than anything else it is men approaching, let alone touching you.
“Sorry, didn’t read your name on her”, the man replies with a sly grin.
Oh, wrong answer. Definitely wrong answer. Satoru’s grip around your waist tightens, pressing you even closer to himself.
“I won’t repeat myself. Get your dirty hands off her right now or you’ll regret it.”
But even though you kind of enjoy the way your boyfriend stands up for you, you’ve seen enough. It is time to take matters into your very own hands.
“Don’t worry babe. I’ve got this”, you mumble into your boyfriend’s ear.
Violence isn’t a solution. No, it would be a bad idea to slap him. After all, he isn’t worth getting entangled with the police or getting your knuckles bruised.
Fuck it.
With a swift motion of your fist, you knock the man in front of you off his feet, nose instantly bursting out in blood.
“Next time think carefully about who you’re harassing, asshole”, you spit at him, pressing your heel into his cheek before walking away with Satoru right by your side.
“Nice blow handsome”, he comments, guiding you out of the bar as if nothing happened.
“I’m kinda proud, didn’t thought I had this in me after four cocktails”, you reply with a satisfied grin.
The cool air outside caresses your heated face gently. To be honest, you have enough of partying. All you want to do is going home now. After all, you are still on a mission…
“Babe, are you okay with leaving?”, you question, wrapping your arms around his back.
“To do what?”, he teases you, placing his hands just a few inches over your butt.
You know exactly what he’s up to, that he wants to make you blush. But after a few drinks, you aren’t that reserved anymore.
“To get myself laid on your couch while moaning your name of course”, you response sweetly.
Fuck, Satoru can feel something twitch inside his pants, begging him to take you home right here on the spot. Desperately he wraps his arm around you, caressing your face with a bunch of kisses.
“You’re mine”, he breathes against your forehead, hands roaming all over your body.
“Yours alone”, you confirm.
“No matter who else wants you.”
“I only want you…”
“That’s what I wanna hear. Now let’s ride home, shall we?”
“How about me riding you in the car though?”
Satoru grabs your hands, hastily dragging you to his car.
“You don’t have to say that twice…”
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i-am-a-l0st-gh0st · 4 months
Note
Diluc with a S/O with a pampered and entitled sister who keeps stealing your boyfriends.
Not happy that Diluc's dating you and not her, she amps up her meek and innocent act to steal him from you.
It's always been just him and me together- Diluc x Fem!reader
So I bet all I have on that. T/w- Slight angst, jealousy, bitch sister, comfort, oblivious Diluc, Summary- Your sister had always stolen your boyfriends, every single one. Will diluc fall into her trap?
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It was that time again, the time when the snow was falling, the time when the Christmas tree went up and when all of Mondstadt became filled with Christmas joy. But it was also time to see family, which was the one part you despised, mainly one person—your sister.
You mentioned before to Diluc about your sister, about how she had always stolen every single one of your boyfriends. So of course you were worried about telling your family the two of you were engaged. Your sister would only step up her act to get Diluc to be hers. You were a little worried that he would leave you, because well what if he did?
Ding ding
“I’ll get it, honey, you look pretty comfy wrapped in those blankets.” Diluc smiled at you. God his smile was so pure.
About a minute later your mother and father walked into the room carrying armfuls of bags. Of course, Diluc had offered to carry some but still, they had so many. Then your sister walked in, carrying nothing but a handbag. Once all the bags were put down somewhere, greetings began. 
“Hello, sweetie!” Your mother said.
Your father behind the two of you was interrogating Diluc, you’re pretty sure Diluc looked at you signalling, What do I do? You came up behind him and hugged him all while giving your dad a look. Your sister was just standing there looking at Diluc as if he were the last handbag on earth.
You could already feel the jealousy radiating off her. Her eyes scanned him up and down leaving no part of his body untouched. You glared at her in an attempt to get her to stop, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off the red-haired man. 
Once you finally let go of him you showed each of them to their rooms. Your sister insisted that he take her, and archons he was so oblivious to her. Of course, being the gentleman he is took her. You knew he wouldn’t act on her advances, would he? 
Well, about 20 minutes later diluc came out with lipstick marks on his cheek and neck. Which made your stomach drop, you thought he was loyal. You thought you could trust him, but now… You were due to get married in less than a year and now that may have to be called off.
“Y/n, sweetie…”
“Hmm oh, it’s fine…” It was not fine you could see the way his face dropped when your voice broke.
“No it's not can you listen to me.”
“I don’t really think there's much to listen to.” You walked out of the room just as your sister came in.
You could hear her attempts to seduce Diluc but you didn’t care. He obviously loved her now since he’d been kissing her so much. But maybe you should’ve listened, maybe he could’ve cleared all that up. The pair were now out of earshot and you could only imagine what she was doing. Twirling her hair, touching his arm and chest, the worst thing was you didn’t know how he was feeling in all this.
About half an hour later, he finally found you. You were curled up in a ball in the bathroom, you weren’t crying, you couldn’t cry. You felt numb. He came and wrapped his arms around you, he was warm and not just because of his pyro vision. Your sister's perfume filled your nose, which made your insides scream with jealousy.
“Hun… Look can you listen to me.” His eyes filled with sadness.
“I don’t want her to take you.”
“Take me? Y/n, don’t be silly. Im yours and yours alone.” He pointed to the ring on his finger. “See this? That means on yours. And this ring on your hand means you are mine. No jealous sister is going to take that from us.”
“You promise.”
“I promise. Now let's get out there and show her we love each other.”
“You know she's taken almost all of my boyfriends. She just can’t seem to get her own”
“That’s just her craving attention, she’s insecure.”
Diluc pulled you up from your position pulling you into yet another hug. “Im sorry, I really did try to tell her to leave me alone.”
“She’s very persistent.”
He dragged you out to the kitchen where the rest of your family was starting to enjoy the Christmas lunch, your sister had already saved a seat for Diluc. He just proceeded to ignore her.
“Y/n this is delicious!” Your mother exclaimed. “You’ve outdone yourself. I might have to step up my game next year.”
You chuckled. “Maybe you will.”
Diluc wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you in closer. “Thank you dear, it's wonderful.”
Your sister still stared with jealousy, maybe she would never get the message.
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siddhigirls · 4 months
Text
it’s just my job
pairing: josh hutcherson x afab!reader
warnings: very aggressive degrading, choking, and lots of sex
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you worked for one of the biggest mafias in russia. your ex boyfriend pulled you into the lifestyle, although you guys dated, he went behind the mafias back and did some dirty work against you guys… that’s why he’s an ex boyfriend, he’s dead. you were often praised for your hard work and dedication towards the mafia, the head mafia, leo, was so in love with you. he bought you everything you’ve ever wanted, he protected you, and put you in charge of everyone and everything.
leo gave you a new job to work on, you had to spy on your rivals and get some information from one of the members. you’ve been working on this for a couple of months and since you’ve kept your identity so hidden nobody knew you were in one of the most notorious mafias in the entire world. you don’t really have family or friends, everyone you talk to was in your mafia and you mostly talked to leo. now it’s hard to ignore the fact that you and leo had a secret relationship, you guys fuck almost every night and god he’s good at it. you were driving to your next location, pulling over to check your most recent text from the person you’ve been spying on, josh. josh is one of the rival mafia members, he knows quite a lot of information for you to tell leo.
josh was a stupid american adult man, he sees a hot woman and you gave him the thought that you would give him a chance and he immediately is going crazy for you. you were currently in the streets of L.A waiting for the text for you to leave the car and go inside his house. you looked outside in the palm trees and the bright sun, you don’t have this in russia. you get the text from him telling you to come inside. you open the door letting yourself in and taking off your shoes, you smell food from his living room. you see him waiting for you standing with a row of food waiting on his dining table, your heart melts a little, despite him being so fucking dumb you liked his quirkiness.
“i got this for you!!” he pointed at the food on the table and went up to you to give you a big bear hug but his perverted mind he just wanted to feel your boobs against his chest. you sat down and you acted like nothing was going on and just kept on talking to him, while you guys were talking he talked a lot about his brothers and the mafia, and you were just recording every single thing he was saying. time passed by so quick you didn’t even realize it was already 1:30 A.M, you got up and you looked at your phone, you decided it was time to leave.
“no no y/n please don’t leave i’m not done hanging out with you.” you giggled at how clueless he is but he walked you to the door, giving you one last bear hug, he tried leaning in for a kiss, you kissed him back and feeling absolute fucking amazing, without a single thought in the world, you just pushed him against the wall and started taking off his shirt, breathlessly taking your lips off his. you guys were kissing going into the living room, you pushed him on the couch and he was staring into your eyes as he was looking up at you, you felt so fucking weak.
“i am so fucking obsessed with you y/n, i just want to fucking ruin you.” he says darkly, unbuttoning your jeans and pulling your pants down with your victoria’s secret underwear. he kissed your stomach all the way down to your pussy, he got up and pushed you against the nearest wall and got down on his knees again, he spread your legs, taking your left leg and hiked it up and let you rest it on his back.
he pushed your underwear to the side seeing your wet slick, he ran his fingers through your clit coating it, he looked up into your eyes making intense dark eye contact as he licked your clit, you threw your head back in pleasure as you pulled his hair, “if you look away again y/n you’ll fucking regret it, look at me” he says grabbing your neck forcing you to look at him. he was sucking your clit inserting his index finger in your tight cunt. you keep letting out pornographic moans that echo through the loft not breaking eye contact once, it was hard for you to not look away. leo would be so mad that you were basically selling your body to another man.
he added 2 more fingers which caused you to arch your back and groan in pain, you looked away which caused him to take his mouth off your wet pussy and taking his fingers out making you feel empty. he got up while your legs were wobbling. he gripped your neck and slammed you against the wall, he got to your ear and started whispering little nothings into your ear like “you’re one of the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid my eyes on” and “i just wanna destroy you in the worst way possible.”
he pulls away from you and going to his side table pulling out a camera, he presses record, since you were so fucking drunk from pleasure you didn’t even realize what he was doing. “look at this slut, didn’t think i would find out” he said taking off his joggers to reveal his lengthy dick, he took off your white shirt along with your bra watching your boobs bounce, the camera paneling towards his dick entering your tight pussy, “this is what happens to sluts when they think they’re getting information when in reality they’re the ones getting fucked.” fuck. you were panicking but you just couldn’t bring yourself to push him off of you, he was fucking you so good that leo can’t even compare.
“she sabotaged herself into thinking that she can runaway with this fucking information, stupid whore.” he panels the camera in your hopeless face, the the makeup running down. “tell me that my cock is the best you’ve ever had you whore.” he says, “please..” you moaned, “fucking say it or else i’ll personally send this to leo so he can see how much of a whore you are, you think i wouldn’t find out? i’ve been watching you for years, he can watch his girl get fucked and cum continuously if you don’t wanna fucking say it.” he says blackmailing you, “it’s the best i’ve ever had please” you said as he keeps thrusting in and out of you
“listen bitch, im gonna fuck you and you aren’t going to tell a single fucking soul about what i told you, if you did i will tell leo about how much his bitch girlfriend loves his rivals cock” he says grabbing your neck as you felt yourself getting closer, you squeezed yourself around him as you felt his strokes getting slower and slower, “i need to cum please let me cum” you begged, “let it out baby” he says pressing harder around your neck, you cum as you felt air not entering your body, he switched the camera down to his dick seeing your cum around his dick and he got deeper into you and came deep into your pussy.
he pulled out showing the camera closer footage of your pussy leaking from his seed. he switched the camera to your face and exchanging a nasty kiss, spitting into your mouth, you looked into his eyes and swallowed his spit, “good girl.” he muttered as he turned off the camera.
298 notes · View notes
thyme-in-a-bubble · 8 months
Text
the breakfast
lilac, chapter two
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a/n: when my love, @chvoswxtch, asked me to bring the horny energy of miss patty from gilmore girls, of course I fucking did it, I'm not a criminal, that's what we all deserve
summary: “well, hello stranger.” 
warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, wholesome villagers being adorable
word count: 2373
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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The Lilac Inn wasn’t just an inn to the citizens of Dunbrook. It was its beating heart, a hub for the small community to gather. 
As the town’s only culinary establishment, the residents had always made a habit of eating a fair amount of their meals in the inn’s dining room, the door to the kitchen often staying wide open so that Harvey wouldn’t have to leave the stove in order to catch all of the juicy small-town gossip that had people blabbering. 
“Dad, did you turn off my alarm?” you snapped as soon as your scurrying feet carried you into the bustling kitchen.
Not lifting his eyes from the loaf of bread he was currently slicing, your dad simply countered with a jovial, “well, good morning to you too, sleeping beauty!”
“Dad,” you sighed, jaw clenching at his usual demeanour, the paralysing dream you’d just roused from not setting you up to be in the right mood for such a level of positivity. 
“You just looked like you could use the extra hour or two,” a smile still warm on his lips, the middle-aged man defensively raised his hands.
“But I’m supposed to help you out,” your eyes followed his movements as he trotted towards the stove, “I can’t do that if I’m asleep.”
“Exactly,” your dad passed by a hook full of tangled textiles and tossed you an apron, “that’s why I let you go a little longer so that you wouldn’t doze off on me before lunchtime arrives.” 
“I wouldn’t have dozed off…” you mumbled pettily as you tied the linen around your waist. Exhaling lowly as you watched him crack two eggs into a sizzling skillet, you asked, “what can I do?”
“Well for starters,” he tossed the shells into a small scrap bowl to his side, “these were the last eggs, so if you could go get some more out by the front desk, that would be superb.”
“Why do you have eggs on the front desk?”
“Because Otto’s chickens are laying a lot right now and so he told me he’d give me some today when he swung by for breakfast.” 
“Wait, Sheriff Nilsen has chickens now?”
“Yeah, has for a long time,” the decade of you not living here grew palpable, “he usually just drops the extra ones off here, so they should already be there because I just took his order two minutes ago.”
“Alright,” you disappeared through the back door and snaked down the narrow corridor, ending up behind the messy reception area. 
Your eyes didn’t have to search for long before you noticed the petite basket, brimming with beige eggs, resting on the top of the counter right beside the small rolodex that displayed what date it was. Grasping it in your hand, your vision momentarily drifted down to the small, framed photo nuzzled behind the ever-open logbook. Sitting on the swing that still hung from one of the sturdy trees out back, head adorably posed in a tiny palm, there a 7-year-old version of you sat, forever frozen in that singular moment, beaming up at the camera. 
“Ah!” a sharp voice boomed as you heard the front door swing shut, “oh my goodness, oh my god! Y/n!”
Raising your chin, your eyes grew wide at the rotund woman beaming at you from the doormat, “miss Rays!” you hurried around the front desk, “oh my god, it’s been so long!” 
Capturing you in a hug, she pressed your form into her bosom, “darling, we’re not in bed together, call me Donna.”
Pulling back with a light chuckle, your eyes fluttered over her features, “you haven’t changed one bit,” her lipstick still a fiery shade red and hair still short and feathery framing her plump cheeks.
“You however have,” she clasped your free hand in hers, guiding your figure to give her a good view, “oh, do a little spin for me,” you bashfully obliged with a giggle, “yes! Honey, who is this woman, what have you done with the adorable little girl I used to tutor?”
To your knowledge, Dunbrook never really had a proper school, but for as long as you could recall Donna had always operated as a teacher to the handful of children that called the reclusive mountain village their home. Even though it was just run out of her living room, she had still been the best teacher you’d ever had, her patient way rivalling any of the professors you had to endure when you went off for college. As a matter of fact, she had been the person who’d pushed you to send in the application, praising that you were too clever not to go out and change the world. 
“Oh, stop it,” you sighed light-heartedly, a chuckle still bubbling out of your chest as you shifted the subject away from your own appearance, “so, you still come here for breakfast?”
“Of course, I do, you’ve tasted your father’s cooking,” readjusting her purse, she hooked her arm in yours, “a real shame that he’s never accepted any of my offers of becoming your stepmom,” she leaned in to add as you crossed over the threshold into the dinner room, “I could have been served all my meals in bed like some Egyptian queen!” 
“I’m sure you can easily find another fellow that can handle himself in the kitchen,” the click-clack of her heels came to a stop by one of the small round tables, her eyes briefly taking in the other patrons before a slight crease appeared betwixt her polished brows. 
“Oh, darn it,” her vision stayed glued to the table in the corner as she lowered herself onto her seat, “he’s not sitting at his usual table…”
“Who?”
“The eye candy over there,” she tilted her chin in the direction of the broad, muted flannel-clad back of the man sitting by the window furthest down at the bottom of the room, “you see, I asked your dear father to always reserve this spot for me just so that I can have a great view, if you know what I mean…” gulping down the rest of his coffee, the man’s head tilted enough for you to recognise whom the rugged looking visage belonged to, “oh boy, I tell you, if I was 30 years younger…”
Haven assumed that you’d never again run into the stranger who’d helped you just the day before, a warm flutter suddenly trickled down your spine, “like that’s ever stopped you before,” you pointed out, snapping your eyes out of their trance, “so, uh, do you know what you want to eat or do you just want some coffee or something while you think on it?” you took two steps towards the oblong table where mismatched teacups where stacked and the steam of a few thermoses, all containing a different hot beverage then the next, billowed out.
“Some coffee would be lovely,” she smiled as you with one hand snatched up a mug and the decanter labelled as such, “and some oatmeal if you don’t mind, sweetie.”
Promptly pouring her a cup, you then signed off with a wink, “you got it,” before your vision landed upon the latest of Donna’s abundant infatuations once more. 
Attempting to make the short journey seem spontaneous and effortless, you bounced from table to table, topping off people's cups, before reaching the final one. 
Drawing in a deep breath, your embarrassingly giddy voice then found his ears, “well, hello stranger.” 
Eyes flickering away from the newspaper sprawled out before him, a look of shock washed over his gruff features as he glanced up at you, “oh, hi.”
“Pete–, it is Pete, right?” you checked, slight mortification beginning to brew within your belly. 
“Yes, ma'am,” his head nodded ever so slightly.
“Do you want a refill, Pete?” you savoured the taste of his name on your tongue. 
“Sorry?” his brows furrowed at your offer. 
“Your coffee,” you pointed with the hand that clutched the handle of the thermos, “do you want some more?”
“Oh,” he breathed, though the puzzled look didn’t seem to fade, “yes, always.” 
Leaning in slightly over the newspaper, you filled up the drained mug, only a murky ring at the bottom indicating what it had previously contained, “and can I get you something to eat as well?” 
Eyes narrowing, he stared up at you, “is your vacation really already so boring that you got a job here or what?”
“Oh,” you couldn’t help but breathe out a light chuckle as you answered, “I’m not on vacation and I guess, kinda,” staring back into his eyes as you attempted to repeat your question, “so, do you want any–,” though before you could finish the sentence, out pranced your father, a plate of food balanced in his palm. 
“2 eggs sunny side up and some sourdough toast, as per usual,” he sang as his long arm came down to slice the air between your forms, placing the dish upon the table. 
Briefly catching his eye, Pete then offered a polite nod of gratitude, “thank you,” folding the paper up and scooting the meal closer. 
Feeling the small basket of eggs disappear from your grip, you blinked back at your father as he softly requested in your ear, “honey, could you give me a hand in the back when you’re done out here?”
“Sure, dad,” you flashed him a smile before watching him disappear once more. 
Feet still glued to the floorboards right by Pete’s table, your vision then returned to him as his deep voice washed over you, “so, you’re Harvey’s kid, then?”
“Yep, that’s my dad,” your balance briefly shifted as you rocked on the balls of your feet, “thank you, by the way, for yesterday.”
“Oh, it’s no problem,” his fork punctured one of the golden yokes, “how’s your car looking?” 
“I don’t really know yet. The local mechanic is taking a look today, so fingers crossed it’s not anything too catastrophic,” you felt your palms begin to sweat as he simply stared up at you in silence, “anyhow,” you averted your gaze nervously, “I’ll stop bothering you, let eat in peace,” you nearly bumped into the chair behind you as you backed up towards the kitchen, the near accident not managing to draw any words out of him, only the hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his lips, “see you around, I guess…” 
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“Hey, dad?” 
Briefly raising his eyes from the logbook cracked open on the wooden counter, he glanced up at you as you bounced down the wide staircase, “yeah, pumpkin?”
Hand tracing the railing, with the aid of the grip, you swung your form around the last post as you ascended the final step, “did you know that the hot water doesn’t work? Like at all.”
“Yeah, that and about a million other things around here,” he sighed, vision returning to the ledger as you rested your folded-up arms upon the top of the reception, “this is a beautiful historic building… and what I mean by that is that there are too many things that either don’t work the way they should or at all. I am not a millionaire, honey. If I was, then the issues wouldn’t be piling up the way that they are…”
Bottom lip snug between your teeth, your mind raced a moment before you quietly theorised, “exactly how long is that list?”
Eyes racing to find your eyes, your father joked, “why? Did you become a contractor while living in New York or something?”
“No, but I was always the handy one out of the two of us,” you noted before your shoulders raised in an innocent shrug, “how hard could it be?”
“Let me get this right,” he raised a palm up between you as his eyes crinkled even further, “you’re telling me you wanna try and patch this place up?”
“Well, it couldn’t hurt the business side of things. When was the last time you booked out more than two rooms at a time here?”
“Oh, no, no,” the moustachioed man then began to shake his head, “you’re not turning this place into some fake, glossy tourist attraction.”
Swinging around to his side of the counter, you assured him, “hey, I’m not saying let's flood this place with tourists, but maybe just a handful more?” tilting your head in an attempt to catch his gaze that had now returned to the open book, “just enough to make ends meet, perhaps also enough to at some point hire someone else so that you won’t work yourself to death…” 
Eyes frozen on the page before him, a long exhale then flowed from his lungs as he deliberated. 
“Alright, fine, yeah, I guess that wouldn’t be that bad…” he tried to downplay the smile that blossomed upon his lips.
Spine pressed against the edge of the front desk, you then braced with your palms and hauled yourself up onto the spot that was just clear enough for you to sit there without knocking any knickknacks over. 
“So,” you drew out, searching for a new topic to explore, “Donna seems to be quite set on that guy Pete to be her new husband, huh?”
“Oh, yeah,” Harvey chortled, “but you know her, she’s like a dog spotting a pheasant every time she sees a new man. I think genuinely I might be the only person in town who isn’t either terrified of him or has some desire to sleep with him.”
“How long has he been here anyway?”
“Eh,” he glanced up at the stained glass adorning the front door as he thought, “maybe a year or two? He mostly keeps to himself, lives up in a cabin in the woods and only really comes down here to either provide some firewood to whoever needs it or have some coffee,” vision landing on you, he then noted, “you however seemed to have broken through to him quite quickly. Took me like 5 months to get anything more than a grunt of recognition out of him.”
“Oh,” you couldn’t stop your eyebrows as they promptly rose up, “well, he kinda helped me the day that I got here. He was the guy I caught a ride with…”
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
426 notes · View notes
satorusplayplace · 8 months
Note
headcanons on gojo satoru as your classmate pls! can be platonic or romantic :D
Gojo Satoru as your classmate!
☆ pairing: teen!gojo satoru x classmate!fem!reader
☆ content warning(s): cussing!
☆ A/N: i added my own little twist! and i’m so sorry if you didn’t want fem :( i’ll rewrite it! just lmk :) i also made the reader around 5’8-5’10 for my tall girlies!! we need more tall!reader inserts 🥲🫶🏼
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you were a student at kyoto’s jujutsu high, while the sashisu group came over for some reason unknown to you. you were definitely caught off guard when you were laying in the grass under a shaded tree when two huge men (boys.) covered some of the sunlight beaming through the tree leaves.
“may i help you?” you asked them both and a girl comes up, you noticed it was shoko! shoko was your childhood best friend!
“SHOOOOKOOOOO~~!” you cried. you haven’t seen her in over two years! you hugged the girl and towered over her a bit. the two boys watched in surprise. they were going to ask you for help and just bother you but now that you know their best friend, they definitely needed to bother you.
“y/n! wow! you’ve grown. seriously.” she says to you, looking at the height difference between you two. you smile and laugh because she used to be taller when you two were younger.
“y/n huh… we’re your new classmates. you’re transferring to tokyo’s tech now, a request from the higher ups and yaga.” gojo says to you. you look at him and nod. you already knew you had to transfer, just didn’t know it was this soon…
✰ oh gojo as a classmate is annoying!!
✰ he didn’t care for you at least but after a few months you would hang out with their group. making you apart of the sashisu group.
✰ gojo started to crush on you after you would buy the group gifts often. you remembered his favorite things and after that, he hung around you as much as possible.
✰ “y/n!! you brought me kikufuku!!” he pouts and hugs you.
✰ gojo tended to follow you to your dorm room as well knowing after certain hours, the boys shouldn’t be on the girls side.
✰ “y/n!! mochi!! let meeee innnnnn!!!! PLEASSEEEE!! i wanna hang out with you.” you always let him in because of his whines.
✰ oh it was so obvious with how much he liked you. he teased you in class, in the hallway, on missions, everywhere
✰ he couldn’t help but flirt with you time to time, making suguru and shoko run away from you two. and you ended up falling for his charm.
✰ “y/n!!! you’re like mochi, so sweet…” and he ended up kissing your cheeks.
✰ oh the feeling of embarrassment flushing over you was overpowered by how much you wanted to kiss him.
✰ when you ended up kissing his lips after months of relentless teasing, he was blushing from how unexpected it was.
✰ when you guys got together. it was sooo annoying. he couldn’t help but have his hands everywhere on you. even your face, as much as you adored the man, it was annoying!
✰ when he noticed how touchy he was being, he always pouted and stopped himself from touching you, to the point where he didn’t even touch you at all.
✰ “satoru, i swear to god, if you don’t fucking cuddle me, i will literally break up with you. fucking kiss me already.”
✰ least you say, he was very content that night.
✰ satoru’s the perfect classmate, always helping you. he just wants you to ask him. not anyone else, only him.
✰ he just loves your attention
✰ he loves your height. omg. he doesn’t have to bend down too much. but also it’s perfect because he likes your legs…
✰ do not leave him alone for a long period of time!!! he gets sooooo pouty and whiny.
✰ overall, gojo is a 10/10 classmate and boyfriend. he just wants to marry you already.
438 notes · View notes
malleusthehammer · 7 months
Note
Hii, could I please request Sasaki, Heracles, Adam and Hades react if child! reader asked for a piggyback ride? I honestly think that would be so cute and wholesome 😭, reader and the character are very close, and I was thinking of reader kinda looking at them as a parental/brotherly figure? (Brotherly for Heracles, because we all know he would be the best brother ever), thank you if you have time to do my request!
AWEEWS YES YES YES THIS IS SO CUTE IM GONNA BAWL OMFG!! this idea is absolutely amazing
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Getting a piggyback ride from Sasaki, Hercules, Adam, and Hades!
Warnings: None!! pure fluff :3
Type: Headcanons and drabble
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⚔️ Sasaki
You just always thought he was cool!
so of course, you just followed him around
He loves playing with you!
Tag, hide n seek, you name it!
he’s oddly good at hide n seek
This man has taught you so many terms and words you shouldn’t know but ya know
When you ask for a piggyback ride, he absolutely agrees!
You and Sasaki were sitting in a field as usual, resting after a fun-filled day. Sasaki was gently rested against the large oak tree, his eyes closed. The gentle breeze pushed his hair, the grass around him following suit.
His eyes fluttered open as you stood up from your sitting position, standing infront of him in the sun. Your eyes were wide and full of playfulness.
“Mister Sasaki..! Wake up!”
He smiled, sitting up.
“I’m up kid, i’m up.. Are you ready to head back home?”
He watched as you grabbed his hands, trying to pull him off the ground.
“Yes yes! I want a piggyback ride!”
“A piggyback ride? Oh lord, kid..”
He chuckled and stood up, walking over to you. He soon squatted down, waiting for you to hop on his back. He and you laughed and laughed as you rode on his back all the way back home.
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💪 Hercules
SILLY
SUPER SILLY
Demi god jungle gym
just let’s you hang from his arms on a daily basis
Hercules was busy walking down the halls of Valhalla, his weapon resting gently on his shoulder. The only noise breaking the silence was the sound of feet hitting tile in a fast manner.
“Herc!! Hercules!!”
The large Demi god stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder to see you running towards him. Your bright smile and small legs hurdling towards him. He was quick to turn around, squatting down to your level.
“Hey kid!”
He opened his arms wide, pulling you into a tight hug. Hercules stood up, spinning you around in a circle before setting you down.
“What’re you doin’ here?”
“Miss Hilde told me where to find you!! I haven’t seen you ALL DAY and i miss you!”
He chuckled at your antics, your slugged down, rolling your eyes about how long it had been since you had seen the god. You quickly made ‘up oy’ hands towards Hercules.
“I wanna be with you! Can have a piggy back ride?”
He smiled and nodded, grabbing you swiftly and setting you on his shoulder.
“I know this ain’t a piggyback ride, but it’s just as cool!”
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🍎 Adam
Hes already carrying you around
you help him pick fruits!!!
Eve loves you sm omg
Adam walked around Eden with you, you both holding baskets of fruits. You both had been roaming around, feeding animals and having fun in Eden. Adam noticed you getting tired over time, slowly trudging behind him in the fields.
“Hey, you okay little one?”
He looked down at you as you slowly trudged up the hill, your forehead covered in sweat.
“Mhm.. i’m.. im okay..”
Adam waited patiently for you to catch up to him, his hair swaying in the wind. As you met him at the top of the hill, you sat the basket in your hands down. You took a deep breath, sitting down in the grass.
“It’s so hot..”
He blinked at you a couple times, before squatting down next to you.
“We only have a bit longer til we see Eve. Can you make it?”
You slowly looked up at him, your eyes heavy and exhausted. You shook your head, wiping sweat from your brow.
“Can.. Can i have a piggyback ride Mr Adam..?”
He stared at you slightly before obliging. He sat you snugly on his back, carrying you the rest of the way back to the house.
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☠️ Hades
Not amused
at all
like he likes you
but he’s not amused by your antics
You had been following Hades around for hours now. Brünhilde had shewed you off, leaving you to wander the halls of Valhalla til you found Hades. He had been ignoring you for the whole time. But he has kept a keen eye on you, always steering away from the gods that may cause you trouble.
After another hour or so, he could see you slowing down behind him.
“Mister… Mister slow down..”
He heard your pleas, his feet stopping completely. He turned to face you, his eyes looking down on you.
“Mm.. as you wish, small one.”
He waited patiently as you caught up with him.
“Mister-“
“Hades. Just Hades.”
He cut you off, kneeling down to match your height.
“Mister Hades- can.. can i have a piggy back ride?”
His brows furrowed slightly, before he slowly nodded. He helped you on his back, then proceed through the halls to helheim.
I LOVED THIS SO MICJNOJ MU HOD ITS SO FITE OSHWWHHSGR SO CUTE IT MADE ME SCREAM THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST!!
294 notes · View notes
bloodweep · 3 months
Text
Warning these are NSFW
I’m also a trans man that is a-okay with pussy/cunt - I mainly write character x male reader but headcanons they are for everyone
“Ma don’t do this to me”
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. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ After some time together ࿐ྂ
‗ ❍ He gets excited over you very easily, he normally did; but now it’s worse, your scent invades his senses all the time; torturing him slowly
‗ ❍ The hugs getting longer, tighter and clingier
‗ ❍ Chests pressed together, his nose behind your ears nuzzling, if you hear a low guttural sound leave him ignore it; it will make it worse
‗ ❍ his hands began to wander, no longer staying around your midsection, moving to your hips, so dangerously close to your ass
‗ ❍ eventually he would have you caged to a tree, his forearm pressing into the bark, ignoring the scratching form on his skin, his muscles bunching and flexing by your head - this would happen more often now, this position, caging you in, loaning over you, yet he didn’t force anything
‗ ❍ GODS I know he would have the biggest muscles of his brother, so fucking big and bulky
‗ ❍ in this position he would show his fangs more, his tail flicking lazily behind him
‗ ❍ UGH he would definitely lean over you, his head tilting down into your space to speak, whispering to you so your conversation can be private
‗ ❍ this position is what caused the first kiss, he was so close, you both were sharing each others breaths, he exhaled you inhaled; back and forth
‗ ❍ finally his eyes lidded he looked over you; waiting, he may be demanding, cocky, grabby but he wouldn’t force this
‗ ❍ once he’s gotten the okay he press his lips to yours, a low growl from his throat
‗ ❍ his free hand would grip your hip, yanking you flush against his hips grinding against you with each kiss
‗ ❍ you definitely gotten fucked against the tree more than once
‗ ❍ oh BOY is he a munch, can eat pussy for hours if you let him, face buried into your cunt, lapping and sucking, his fangs scrapping against your cunt
‗ ❍ he’s most certainly snarled and nipped at your direction when you pull him away before shoving his face back into your cunt
‗ ❍ would eat your pussy for breakfast , lunch and dinner and even dessert
‗ ❍ has definitely been yelled out for leaving a gang scratches on your cunt
‗ ❍ a giver more than a receiver
‗ ❍ loves doggy
‗ ❍ “oh mamas” is definitely what he growls out as he fucks into you
‗ ❍ will enjoy having your pussy juices coat his face and neck as he fucks you, will get grumpy and nippy if you try to clean it off, he wants to smell like you and feel claimed
‗ ❍ I can see this man LOVING anal, the first time he’s giving the okay he nearly combusts, he loves your ass so much and being able to fuck it sends him into space
‗ ❍ would love to eat your cunt while stretching your ass open
‗ ❍ enjoys to overstimulate you until you’re crying, he just wants to feel your legs around his head crushing
‗ ❍ reverse cowgirl position too so he can keep his hands all over your ass
‗ ❍ into biting, he wouldn’t know how to ask to mark you up, but once you’ve pulled his head into your neck, he would certainly leave little marks there - marks your thighs too
‗ ❍ loves scratches, he wants your mark on him all the time
‗ ❍ he’s SO into muzzles, muzzle him up and yank on it to control him
‗ ❍ he would definitely hold you up into the air and fuck into you, showing off how strong he is, how good of a mate he is to you
‗ ❍ wants you to squirt on his face and chest all the time, enjoys your scent and wants everyone to know that
‗ ❍ he’s broken many of his and your beds from fucking you so hard, but it never stopped him from making sure you finished before making you a new one - at this point you suggest to fuck on the floor but he wants to make sure you’re comfortable on the bed
‗ ❍ He’s the one to be fucking into you, reaching up and gripping the headboard - which the area would break off in his hand from how tight he is holding it
‗ ❍ he’s a fucking dirty clothes sniffer (you cannot tell me he would bury his nose into your underwear and inhale, that man is a fucking dog)
‗ ❍ Throatfucking, drives him crazy when he can fuck into your throat, his hand gripping around the bulge in your throat
‗ ❍ size difference, sends him wild when he can see his dick through your stomach
‗ ❍ Somnophilia - receiving, loves waking up to you riding him, or your sitting down on his face
‗ ❍ breath play - receiving, suffocate him with your thighs, cunt, gripping his neck when you ride him
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Tagging: @n3rdy247
I apologize they are so short, might add to them but this is all I could think of right now!
Added a gif I made because fuck him and his goggles does stuff to me
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darkened-writer · 1 year
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imagine| Sapphire Gaze
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summary || “You remind me of sapphires.”
request || Could write a fanfic for Aemond where he and his cousin (Daemons daughter) are in love with each other and at the family dinner everybody can sense that they have a special bond, much to Daemons despise. Just some angst and fluff please🫶🏻Btw. I absolutely love your writings. :))
pairing || Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon! Reader
word count || 9,472
warnings || Minor angst, some fluff, Aemond needs a hug.
notes || This took me SO LONGGG, so I hope it was worth it haha. Enjoy!!!
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The first time you met him was at your mother’s funeral.
Everyone was amongst themselves, chatting and dwelling on the memory of Laena Velaryon. Your sisters pouting and wallowing in their sadness while sitting upon a bench. Yourself, however, decided it would be better to stick by your father whom was near Viserys Targaryen; looming like a vulture seeking dinner. 
You were always told, “You’re just like your father.” or “I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” All in regards to your attitude and how well you swing your sword. You mirrored Daemon’s skills as if you were his long lost twin, and that worried plenty of people, especially Alicent Hightower.
“I’m old enough to notice your gazes towards Rhaenyra, Father.”
The man let his eyes leave Rhaenyra’s figure and settle on yours, your arms folded under your cloak. It was disappointing body language yet your face was upturned with amusement.
“Old enough? You’re just two years older than your sisters, my oldest.”
“I may be good at fighting, Father. But, I also have brains.”
He chuckles and turns to look at Viserys who was also looking at him.
The winds, however, pulled your gaze to a silver-haired boy looking at you from across the way, in a similar way that Rhaenyra was looking at your father. With admiration, a sense of longing, and yet you only knew the boy's name and nothing more.
Aemond Targaryen.
His eyes were scanning your figure, almost curious of who you are. What your origins were, but your train of thought was immediately interrupted. 
“Your girls are the very image of their mother.” You turn to look at your uncle, the King, “A comfort and an anguish, as I well remember. The gods can be cruel.”
A firm pause, before your father answered, “It seems they’ve been especially cruel to you.”
The King finds the comment humorous, when normally it would be taken as an insult.
“Yes…” The tension was palpable between the two, so you speak.
“It’s wonderful to see you, Uncle.” You bow your head a bit and the man cracks a sincere smile.
“Y/N! My fierce little Niece, It’s great to see you also, even if under such dire circumstances.”
“Agreed, Uncle.” His eyes find Daemon’s again, “You should return with us to King’s Landing. It’s time that you came home.”
“Pentos is my home…and that of my children.”
“Daemon… I know we’ve had our differences, but let them pass with the years. There’s a place for you in my court if that’s something you should need.”
“I need…” His mouth moves to say ‘Rhaenyra’, but he stops himself, “nothing.” The silence hits once again but before Viserys could say anything else, your father walks away quickly.
“Brother…”
You place a comforting hand on your Uncle’s shoulder before walking away also towards the stairs to head toward the beach. The sky was a pleasant shade of gray, mirroring upon the shiny sea water that called to your very soul. The Velaryon blood coursed through your veins, drawing you towards the sea but the fire was just as mesmerizing. 
The sand finally touched your boots, sounding a gentle crushing noise. The waves waning against the rocks, sea foam catching on the grains of sand. It was all too peaceful for such a saddening day, but somehow you knew that the sea took your mother with open arms to become a part of it once again.
“You remind me of sapphires.”
The voice pulled you from your concentration, eventually connecting a face to the voice. Aemond Targaryen stood with his cloak flowing in the high winds, hair also meticulously moving in tandem. 
“Sapphires? Such flattery should only come between those who know each other deeply.”
“Well, I’d like to get to know you better, cousin.”
You tilt your head, “Ah cousin, should’ve known we were related based on the hair color.” Your hand finds the pin holding your locks upward and slide it out, letting the silver cascade down your shoulders and flow to the side. Aemond’s eyes watched your hair with great interest, rousing a laugh from the bottom of your stomach.
“Are you always this curious and interested in hair?”
He stifles a cough, “Erm– yes?”
“You liar–”
You quickly move past him, gently shoving him with a laugh that sounded like pure heaven to the boy's ears. You seemed to be in a playful mood, so the boy chased after you, laugh intertwining with yours. And what a true joy it was to meet someone in the family that didn’t completely anger you.
-
Hours later, after departing from Aemond, you were safe and warm within the covers of the bed you truly loved. Your sisters were asleep, subtly snoring until they were awoken by a familiar roar. Vhagar, Mother’s dragon who wasn’t supposed to even be flying or out this late at night. It worried the two twins, so they did only what they were taught in an odd situation, they woke their older sister. 
“Y/N…Y/N… Y/N– wake up…!”
Your shoulders were being shook until numbness, but you eventually let your eyes fall open and settled on Baela.
“Mm…? What is it, sister?”
“Someone stole Vhagar.”
That sets the alarm bells in your mind off, “What?!”
Quickly, you put your dress and boots on and settled the dagger your father had made for you under your gown. Telling Baela and Rhaena to wake Jacaerys and Lucerys and meet you where Vhagar was going to land. And eventually, you all met up to investigate what was going on. Though, you held your sisters back behind you so you could go first in case of an attack. The distant crash of Vhagar landing made you jump, but alas you waited to see who was riding the Dragon that was to remain unclaimed.
“Jace, what are we doing?”
Yourself and the group of children all quieted down at the sight of Aemond.
“It’s him.”
“It’s me.”
“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon.”
“Your mother’s dead. And Vhagar has a new rider now.” Venom was seething through his mouth, and you winced at his way with words, harsh and unruly.
“She was mine to claim.”
“Then you should’ve claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.”
Rhaena slipped from behind you in rage, going to grapple and fight Aemond but was quickly thrown to the side and to the ground. Baela couldn’t stand to see her sister hurt, so the girl took her turn, throwing a punch and landing it, but ultimately getting the same force of a punch back, knocking her down. 
“Come at me again and I’ll feed you to my dragon!”
You leapt to check on Rhaena to see if the boy had hurt her, while Jacaerys began to throw punches himself. With a gentle caress, you wiped the blood from your sister’s nose, feeling Jacaerys fall to the ground and the shrill shriek of Lucerys. It was chaos, but in spite of Aemond’s meticulous strength, you helped Rhaena up and she went immediately to beating Aemond up with Baela and Jacaerys. 
Blood was all over the boy’s face, while you took the liberty of staying out of the conflict and helping Lucerys up from the dirty ground. 
It didn’t last though, Jacaerys was kicked aside, the girls thrown, but Lucerys lunged anyways; getting put into a chokehold. Everyone tensed up as Aemond grabbed a stone from the ground and held it up, your heart dropping to your stomach. Was he going to kill your cousin in cold blood?
“You will die screaming in flames just as your father did! Bastards.”
“My father’s still alive.” Lucerys wailed out with a bloodied face and salty tears, “He doesn’t know, does he, Lord Strong?”
Aemond’s tone became condescending, and within that rage, Jacaerys grabbed the dagger that laid upon your thigh while you were ultimately distracted.
“Jace!”
You grabbed your sisters and held them back with eyes of fear, watching as Aemond threw Lucerys to fall to the ground, but Jacaerys caught him and threw him softer to land. The boy swung the dagger you once had, missing and getting struck by the stone Aemond wielded. The dagger landed near Lucerys, who grew strength in the moment he had of being defeated. And as Aemond had his arm held up with the stone, ready to strike Jacaerys down, he looked to you and your sisters; and you shook your head in disbelief. 
What happened to the kind boy you had met on the beach?
Sand and then the slash and scream that accompanied it.
Aemond cried into the sandy, night air, clutching his face in great pain. Blood pooled and spilled from his left eye, slipping through his fingers like wine being poured from a bottle. You felt a twinge of guilt for not breaking up the fight, but you knew you’d done right by keeping close to your sisters. Because they were most important to you, even if the boy who was now seething in pain was kind to you once.
-
“How could you allow such a thing to happen?”
The king was chastising the knight in front of him, and you let your eyes come to Aemond sat upon a chair, having his eye cleaned by a Maester. Alicent Hightower, the queen, sat next to the boy with a vastly worried expression. A mother’s worry for her son, her boy.
“Who had the watch?”
“Young prince was attacked by his own cousins, Your Grace.”
You held your sisters in a huddled hug, their blood coated on your fingers as you had tried to wipe their faces clean. Though, it had just ended with red smudges on their skin and crimson tips for your fingers. 
“You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!”
“I’m very sorry, Your Grace. The Kingsguard has never had to defend princes from princes, Your Grace–”
“That is no answer!”
Alicent’s voice chimed in, “It will heal, will it not, maester?” She sounded desperate.
“The flesh will heal. But the eye is lost, Your Grace.”
Alicent and Viserys seemingly reeled at the news of their son’s eye now being lost, and you felt bile rising in your throat. 
“Where were you?” Alicent began to antagonize her son, “Me?”
The answer wasn’t satisfactory, so the woman slapped him and he quivered in fear at the anger on her face. 
“Ow! What was that for?”
“That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool.” The Hightower woman was seething in anger, a sight that was rare and never welcomed. But before anyone else could possibly speak or do anything, doors opened and Corlys and Rhaenys rushed down the stairs.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“Y/N, Baela, Rhaena! What happened? What happened?” The older woman immediately embraced your sisters, pulling you into the hug roughly but with care. Corlys went front and center while Rhaenys was comforting your sisters and rubbing your shoulder in hopes of easing you. The grand doors opened with a creak and Rhaenyra Targaryen came waltzing in with a face stricken with intense, motherly worry, but what was odd was your father was trailing behind her; making eye contact with you before leaning against the doorway to watch the commotion. 
“Jace? Luke!” She rushed to kneel in front of them, trying to assess the damage of Lucerys’s nose. 
“Show me. Show me.” 
His small hand moved from his nose, and a fresh gush of blood fell.
“Who did this?”
“They attacked me!”
“He attacked Baela!”
“He broke Luke’s nose!”
The children continued to shout and make their own arguments and claims of what had happened, “He stole my mother’s dragon!”
“Enough.”
“He was gonna kill Jace! I didn’t do anything!”
“Enough–”
“It should be my son telling the tale!” Alicent now joined the children in their chorus of cries and shouts, until–
“Silence!”
Instantaneous silence at the King’s yell, Jace leaned down to his mother’s ear to whisper something that made her face go pale as she rose. Must’ve been the phrase that started the physical altercation, ‘Bastard’.
“Aemond…” The King made his way down the small bit of stairs ever so slowly, “I will have the truth of what happened. Now.”
“What else is there to hear? Your son has been maimed. Her son is responsible.” Alicent chimed in, “It was a regrettable accident.” Rhaenyra argued.
“Accident? The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush. He meant to kill my son.”
“We had no idea it was your son whom was riding, Vhagar!”
Alicent’s gaze turned to you now, “Past conflicts have arisen between them and yet you had no idea it was Aemond?”
“No– and it was I who brought the blade, for protecting my sisters and cousins in case of danger.”
Alicent’s eyes rolled, “And you claim to be oh so high and mighty now, protecting family–”
“It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves. Vile insults were levied against them.” Rhaenyra interrupted the Queen from continuing.
Viserys’ perked up, “What insults?”
“The legitimacy of my sons’ birth was put loudly to question.”
“What?”
“He called us bastards.”
The room went silent, even a drop of wine could sound across the room.
“My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, Your Grace. This is the highest of treasons. Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders.”
The boy peeked from the rather large chair he was sat upon, looking you directly in the eye as Rhaenyra spoke, sending a chill up your spine at the view of his now lost eye, bloody and bruised.
“Over an insult? My son has lost an eye.” Alicent’s hand roughly gestured to Aemond.
“You tell me, boy. Where did you hear this lie?”
“The insult was training yard bluster.” Alicent interrupted, “The lot of boys. It was nothing.”
“Aemond… I asked you a question.” A pause, before Alicent spoke once again, “Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder? The boys’ father? Perhaps he might have some say in the matter?”
“Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?”
“I do not know, Your Grace. I… could not find sleep. I had gone out to walk.” Your father was glancing at Rhaenyra with eyes you knew well, and your stomach felt like it was weighed down by stones. He was getting involved with his niece, on the day of your mother’s funeral.
“Entertaining his young squires, I would venture.”
No one laughed, not a single breath except for the hateful looks both Rhaenys and Corlys sent Alicent. Viserys was neglectful of the looks and continued his earlier conversation with his injured son.
“Aemond… look at me. Your king demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?”
Pregnant silence, before he spoke, “It was Aegon.”
“Me?” The other boy looked terrified, “And you, boy? Where did you hear such calumnies? Aegon! Tell me the truth of it!”
“We know, Father…” The room suddenly feels hotter, “Everyone knows. Just look at them.”
Most of everyone in the room peers at Rhaenyra and her sons, her hand laid on her youngest head, tears welling up in her beautiful eyes. Alicent visibly looked saddened, but you knew deep down she most likely felt satisfied about his answer, but the complete opposite could be said for Viserys.
“This interminable infighting must cease! All of you! We are family! Now, make your apologises and show good will to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it!”
The obviously sick and decrepit man, our king, began to walk away, his cane clicking against the ground abrupt against the awkward silence. Alicent looked appalled at her husband's words, tears in her eyes mirroring Rhaenyra.
“That is insufficient.” He turns around, “Aemond has been damaged permanently, My King. “Good will” cannot make him whole.”
“I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye.”
“No, because it’s been taken.”
“What would you have me do?”
“There is a debt to be paid. I shall have one of her son’s eyes in return. And if not her son’s, then the one who brought the blade in the first place.”
The room began to murmur, your eyes widening at her proposition. Rhaenys’s grip around you became tighter in her own worry.
“My dear wife…–”
“He is your son, Viserys. Your blood.”
“Do not… allow your temper to guide your judgment.” He shares brief eye contact with your father.
“If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston… bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon or Y/N Velaryon.”
“Mother!” The small boy shouts, and you turn to look at your father who looks more antsy than before, worried.
“Alicent…”
“The one you choose can choose which eye to keep, a privilege neither of them granted my son.”
“You will do no such thing.” Rhaenyra defended, beginning to look just as worried as your father; if not worse. 
“Stay your hand.”
“No, you are sworn to me!” She yells to Ser Criston, “As your protector, My Queen.”
A sense of relief washed over you, Alicent looking more and more disappointed by the second. 
“Alicent, this matter… is finished. Do you understand?” The king and queen share eye contact for a moment, before the king turns to leave the whole situation all together, but he must leave a brief message.
“And let it be known: anyone whose tongue dares to question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons should have it removed.”
“Thank you, Father.”
Rhaenyra leans down to console her sons once again, yourself choosing to kiss the tops of your sisters’ heads, until chaos strikes. Alicent moved steady towards Rhaenyra with the blade Viserys usually carried at his side, looking like a woman on a mission, and various people began to shout which alerted her to the oncoming attack; catching Alicent’s arms in a grapple. Luke screamed in fear and you instantly huddled towards Baela and Rhaena to protect them, not noticing your father trying to get to you but being interrupted by Ser Criston.
“You’ve gone too far.”
“I? What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom , the family, the law. While you flout all to do as you please. Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again.”
“Release the blade, Alicent.” Her father spoke, but she did not listen.
“And now you take my son’s eye, and to even that, you feel entitled.”
“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you really are.” And with a push away, the blade penetrates Rhaenyra’s skin, conjuring up blood at her wrist that slips down, down, until the crimson liquid hits the marbled floor. Her face was open in shock at what had just happened, even Alicent looking shell-shocked at what she did. The blade in her hand tumbling down and hitting the floor to mirror the bloodshed. 
But, now Aemond was up from his seat, eyes turning to him instead of the commotion.
“Do not mourn me, Mother.” She looks at him, “It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye… but I gained a dragon. And Y/N was not at fault at all–”
You both look to each other, “She didn’t even try and hurt me, she stayed out of it, so bid her mercy…”
You let the corners of your mouth slide up in a thankful smile, and he only replies with a nod.
“This proceeding is at an end.”
Ser Criston releases your father, and he makes haste in reuniting with you and your siblings and Rhaenyra, looking at Alicent with the same gaze as the rest of your family, stern, dark, and direct.
-
Ten years have passed since that fateful night.
Baela had traveled to Driftmark to be a Ward for Rhaenys and Corlys, Rhaena deciding to stay with you to keep you company against the hoard of boys. Lucerys and Jacerys were handfuls in of themselves, despite their older age. But now you had little Joffrey and his two brothers to mess about and yell into the halls of Dragonstone. 
Your father and Rhaenyra had wed the morning after the night of bloodshed, happy and content within joining their two families, and Rhaenyra was now pregnant with yet another child after two younger boys with Daemon. You’d hope that they would be a girl.
Though, the peacefulness that was your home was breached by a letter sent by Baela, giving information about Corly’s brother challenging Lucerys’s legitimacy to the Driftmark throne. He was going to present it to the king in hopes of staking claim over Luke, which made Rhaenyra instantly angered by the audacity. And, that is when your parents decided that it would be best to travel back to the kingdom to make their own claim against Vaemond.
A ship ride and a carriage ride, and you were now arriving at the castle that held the man that weighed on your thoughts for a decade.
Aemond.
The boy saved you from losing an eye by claiming your innocence.
How would he look after ten years? Handsome? Stubborn like his mother? The question hung in your head until the carriage stopped and Rhaenyra sent you a small smile to tell you it was time to exit.
“All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne and her royal consort, Prince Daemon Targaryen.”
The bells tolled, and the cold air drifted into the now open carriage as Rhaenyra exited promptly and with a regalness that only royalty could muster. Your father exited just after her without a care of how he looked, but you waited and helped Rhaena out of the carriage before letting Jacerys and Lucerys go and then yourself.
Your whole family was adorned in black and red colors, contrasting the green banners that were in the yard you stood in. Rhaena’s rather cold hand grasped yours, and you let your thumb absentmindedly rub against the frozen skin. She felt anxiety, it was only normal considering where you all stood.
Lord Caswell suddenly came from the entry doors with careful consideration, before coming to stand in front of Rhaenyra and bowing his head. His wrinkled hands found her soft ones, eyes speaking with care.
“Welcome back, Princess.”
“Lord Caswell.”
The man kindly escorted you all into the castle, and the decor change seemed to alarm both of your parents. The green, the religious symbols, it was all so daunting for two people who were raised here. Alas, you had to separate from them as they had duties to attend to, so you followed your brothers to the training yard, their black cloaks dragging behind them like crows feathers. 
Two knights were sparring, catching the eyes of the boys, however you were focused on the blades sat against wood planks to be picked up.
They were awfully shiny and caught your eye, the indistinct chatter all around you becoming void.
“See? I told you this would still be here. And you thought you could swing Criston’s morningstar. And you almost took your own head off.”
Lucerys grumbled beside you, looking at the weapons also as Jacerys rustled the boys’ hair, yet he was focused on the various people staring at you three with curious eyes. Jacerys noticed immediately, “What’s your problem?”
You picked up a shiny blade, twirling it in your grasp, “Everyone’s staring at us–”
“Hyah!” Jacerys tried to play, even smiling a bit but it was shut down by Lucerys’s sour attitude. 
“No one would question me being heir to Driftmark… if… if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong–”
You quickly dropped the sword and placed a hand on your brother’s shoulder, gathering his attention, “It doesn’t matter what they think.”
It seemed to ease him, before a crowd had gathered and cheering began, grunts from the middle of the crowd. Jacerys dragged you two immediately to whatever was going on, and the view shocked you.
A white-haired man brandished a shield and sword, moving swiftly towards the Dornish looking knight, taking a hit to his shield and causing the crowd to react with “ooo”’s and “ahh”’s. But the white-haired mystery was smart, he threw the shield to the side and began relentless swipes towards the knight, but he dodged anyways, now revealing the face of the man.
Aemond–
This alarmed Lucerys, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. He moved meticulously, like a spider on a wall, fast and deadly. His moves were awe-inspiring, and every jab of his sword made your heartbeat faster and faster; until the pointy end was at the knight’s neck and the crowd applauded.
“Well done, my Prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.”
“I don’t give a shit about tourneys. Nephews, Niece… have you come to train?”
His one eye was wide and awake, an unnerving chill being sent up your spine just by his glance. But before any of you three could reply, a guard shouted.
“Open the gate!”
There was a large creak before your relative, Vaemond, waltzed through with his battalion, making a huge deal out of his arrival. Until you feel a hand grasp yours and pull you back and away from the crowd. The hand was warm and inviting, callouses from sword handling prominent but the veins in the arms were so very noticeable. 
He was pulling you fast towards the library, not even giving you a second to rest before the library doors shut and his gaze was on you once again. His singular eye wandered your entire figure, starting from your face, down to your neck, your chest, your waist, legs, and then back up. He hummed a content, “hmmm”, before speaking.
“My– how you’ve grown, Niece…”
“Could say the same to you, Aemond.”
He circled you now, like a shark circling blood in the ocean, but your desire was probably ten times that. You missed him even after only knowing each other for a day, and it scared you; how much you wanted to kiss him, bite his neck, or nibble on his ear. The possibility of hearing the low, guttural noises of pleasure from him was surfacing in your mind.
You hoped whatever god or gods there were that he couldn’t read your mind right now.
The eyepatch slung on his head looked to be made of fine leather, of course made by someone of exceptional skill and yet, the man most likely saw himself as a cripple due to the loss of his eye. His hair was long and flowed down his back almost like a ravenous river, uncontrollable and wild. What brought out a slice of curiosity from you though was the blue glimmer from under the eyepatch he adorned, did he really stick a gem into his eye socket?
“You still remind me of sapphires.”
“Such flattery should only come between those who know each other deeply, Aemond–”
He smirks, lips upturning, as if remembering the very same day you both had met and spoke. Of course, it was hard to forget you, and the way you didn’t join your siblings in crippling him. You were merciful to him, yet, you were known to have the same anger and rage boiling in you as your father, Daemon. And after these ten years that had passed, there was never a quiet moment where he wasn’t pondering about you, your whereabouts, or how you might have aged and come into your own body.
And you sure had matured in all the right places.
“What did you hope to achieve by pulling me into the library?”
Were you hoping to get a rise out of him? Because the palpable tension of ten years was straining like a rope at its breaking point. About to snap.
“Privacy, mostly, Niece.”
He stood firmly in front of you, now closer than he previously was but just far enough to where you could feel the lingering touch of his hand. His fingers were long, slender, and strong; built for sword fighting and taking down armies of men. He was stronger than he looked. His hand trailed up your arm, settling just under your ear within the crease, cradling your cheek longingly. His gaze mirrored that of when he first saw you, adoring and curious. How is it that such a violent man could stoop into a passive state around a woman he cares for, admires and cherishes.
“You’ve gone soft, Aemond. Where is that daring sword fighter I just saw outside?”
“Even a man as violent as direwolves would falter under the eyes of the woman he loves.”
“And you love me?”
“Of course, I do… ever since we were kids. Ever since the day I lost my eye. I gained a dragon and a person worth fighting for.”
His thumb stroked the skin of your cheek, “Do you feel the same, Sapphire…?”
Before he could even utter another word, your lips were on his.
-
You didn’t see Aemond the rest of the day after the shared kiss.
He had duties to attend to and Daemon had called upon you for your sword training, which he always let you handle Dark Sister since you would be the one to inherit the blade. A powerful symbol and an even swifter blade then the dagger you’d been carrying since you were a kid.
The same dagger that took out Aemond’s eye.
The guilt of even taking the blade in the first place to the cavern was still apparent in your older age, but even your sisters liked to assure you that it was the right call.
You were their protector. Their older sister and through marital laws, could be the heir to the Iron throne if Rhaenyra deemed it so.
The oldest of all your siblings, you were also the fiercest, yet the most gentle.
‘The Realms Essence’, you’d heard in villages.
‘She embodies love and hate, the wind and the flame.’
Yet, you were always drawn to the sea and the color of sapphire blue.
-
The next day was the day of defending Lucerys’s claim to the throne of Driftmark, his birthright and exactly what Corlys’ would have wanted.
Rhaenyra awoke you in the morning, carrying a red and black dress with a blue dragon sutured up the back. It was the color of your dragon, Bessoarth, The Nocturnal. The glimmering yellow of the eyes of the dragon drew you in as your mother helped you put on the dress, smoothing out any creases and beginning to braid your hair in a Dragon riders’ style.
She had said she used to wear her hair the exact same way when she was younger, and a swell of pride bundled up in your heart.
You missed your true mother, Laena, but the attention and love from Rhaenyra brought new light to your inner child.
Eventually, you and your whole family were gathered in the sacred room that held the Iron Throne. The crowds chattering about whatever came to mind but all was put silent as Otto Hightower began to speak and start the meeting.
“Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters.” He takes a seat on the throne.
“The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.”
Your relative walks up to speak his truth, while you immediately tried to find Aemond’s gaze, once locking, a smile arose on his lips that didn’t go unnoticed by a certain someone. 
“My Queen.  My Lord Hand.”
Alicent looks at Vaemond, “The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother’s seat. I am Lord Corlys’s closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins.”
“As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon–. If you cared so much about your house’s blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition.”
Rhaenyra was right in her correct interruption of Vaemond, yet Alicent Hightower interrupted her immediately.
“You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.”
The tensions between the two formal friends was sharp and unyielding, but to make matters worse, Ser Vaemond came with a rebuttal to Rhaenyra.
“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn’t recognize it.” Rhaenyra nods to herself, “This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours.” The man lets his eyes land on Lucerys, which you firmly reply with shoving the boy slightly behind you, looking Vaemond in the eyes with haste. How dare he look at him with such satisfied eyes, who did he think he was? 
“My Queen, My Lord Hand.” He was an ass kisser, that much was obvious. “This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother’s successor… the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.”
“Thank you, Ser Vaemond.”
He sent one last glance at your family before taking his place once again. 
“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon.”
She took firm steps to the front, holding her wrist with a certain amount of anxiety that was only a bit noticeable. But even in her worries, she gave off a sense of knowing it would all be okay somehow. 
“If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly twenty years ago, in this very–”
A noticeable creak sounded throughout the hall, taking everyone's gaze to the grand doors behind. The almost toppled over body of your Uncle came firmly to enter the meeting, a golden mask clad on the right side of his face. His white hair was sparse and thin, just about all of it gone and yet his head still held the crown with delight. His cane clicked on the cobblestone ground, and you couldn’t help but notice the small smile on Rhaenyra’s face.
Her father was here to save the day.
“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”
The room bowed their heads to the King who would die being known for the kindness of his heart, and the love he held for his family. A truly noble man.
He moved slowly and with a limp, but kept his gaze on his only child, knowing what he had to do, and he would not fail. 
“I will sit the throne today.”
“Your Grace…”
The determination your Uncle exhibited was noteworthy and brought a great comfort to you, knowing the bloodline you stem from ties into a man so oddly heroic, even in his last days.
Through his difficulty to climb up to his lofty seat, the crown on his head fell with a thud which prompted yourself and your father to try and aid him.
Daemon held Viserys and helped him to the throne and you had the honor of placing the crown back onto his head. Even after bickering and arguments, the brothers knew they would always have each other, even if one were to pass. And you gave your Uncle an adoring gaze and a loving smile, before joining your family once again.
“I must… admit… my confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present… who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys’s wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”
“Indeed, Your Grace.”
The whole room peered keenly at the older woman, herself stepping forward with her black grown dragging against the ground behind her.
“It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son… Lucerys Velaryon.” Rhaenyra perked up, “His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys’s granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.”
Baela looked to be smiling a bit, Alicent shaking her head to herself as if in disapproval. 
“Well…” Viserys began, “The matter is settled. Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucery Vvelaryon of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.”
He wheezed after his proclamation, Rhaenys rejoining Baela and Vaemond, staring daggers into Rhaenyra, making a ‘tch’ sound.
“You break law… and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir.” He steps up to speak once again, “Yet you dare tell me… who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it.”
“”Allow it”? Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”
The man turns and points at Lucerys, face drawn up in a flame like anger, “That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine.”
You draw Lucerys back behind you, Rhaenyra turning and looking him in the eyes. 
“Go to your chambers. You have said enough.” She looks to Vaemond with pleading eyes, not wanting to argue over something so realistically small. However, Viserys decides to chime in again. 
“Lucerys is my true-born grandson. And you… are no more than the second son of Driftmark.”
“You… may run your house as you see fit… but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides.” His venom laced eyes turned to our family once again, “And gods be damned… I will not see it ended on the account of this–” He pauses.
Daemon seeks the words Vaemond wishes to utter and says, “Say it.”
The whole room seemingly freezes, the air thin, but Vaemond couldn’t restrict his tongue.
“Her children… ARE BASTARDS. And she… is… a whore.”
The crowd stirs with gasps and while Viserys tries to rise, you put a comforting hand on Rhaenyra's shoulder.
“I…” The king pulls his dagger from under his cloak, “will have your tongue for that.”
But before anything could even happen, the sound of a sword being swung erupted and Vaemond Velaryon’s top half of his head fell to the ground, soon following his body. Everyone gasped and Alicent pulled Haelena into a hug, knowing the view troubled her. Rhaenyra was shocked but even you knew your father would not let those words go without punishment. 
“He can keep his tongue.”
“DISARM HIM!”
“No need.” Daemon quickly cleaned his blade with his cloak and sheathed it, Aemond now meeting your wandering eyes with one thing on his mind. 
You certainly inherited your father’s flare.
The King fell back into the throne, Alicent calling for the maesters and Rhaenyra rushing to his side to check on him. The dagger sheathed at your side seemed to burn and itch every second, yet that didn’t even disturb you. Aemond’s almost excited gaze towards Daemon is what truly did you in.
-
With the day just about gone, it was time for dinner.
The whole family, including Alicent’s children, were all to attend. You dreaded the ordeal simply by the fact that you knew trouble would most definitely stir up. It was bound to happen with the tensions rising between Rhaenyra and Alicent, not to mention Aemond’s anger towards Jace and Luke. The only person who seemed to not even care about what was going on was Haelena, as she was sipping her wine and smiling to herself, muttering phrases that made anyone shiver. You felt bad for her.
The doors opened to the dining room and Viserys was carried in, everyone standing in greeting to his royal majesty. He had looked tired, exhausted even, and that saddened your heart. 
The sadness could never really last with Aemond staring into your very soul any chance he could, wearing a lustful smile, mind wandering to where the kiss prior could have led. The feelings stirring in your heart were that of love, the very thing that slays duty. A dangerous thing.
Once Viserys was finally seated, everyone else followed suit. His lowly eye looking around the whole table, taking in the sight of his family together, even if torn all the same.
“How good it is… to see you all tonight… together.”
His adoring gaze landed on Rhaenyra, before Alicent spoke.
“Prayer before we begin?”
“Yes.”
An odd thing that your mother had pointed out to you, was that Alicent was never religious during the time they spent together in their youth. The randomness of the religion she was now devout to had caused her great confusion, though she was not one to deny someone the freedom of worship.
“May the mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest.”
Your father sent a playful gaze at you, which you dismissed with an eye roll towards his attitude. 
“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young princes… and their betrothed.”
Aemond’s eye was on you once again at the mention of betrothal, and your heart skipped a beat.
“Hear, hear!”
Everyone raised their glasses, the bitter wine wrapping around your tongue and slid down your throat with an aftertaste that was oddly sweet. The aroma had accents of earthy tones that reminded you of the sea, your home. Aegon’s whispers to Jace were heard but not acknowledged by you as you enjoyed your wine.
“Let us toast as well Prince Lucerys… the future Lord of the Tides.”
“Hear, hear.”
“You’ll be great.”
Aemond’s lingering stare towards Lucerys was dark, one of extreme distaste, which reflected directly how he felt towards Jacerys also. But not you, never you, you were a person with an attitude that mirrored the harsh waves. Yet, you were delicate and sweet like his favorite fruit, the blueberry. 
“You look beautiful, my daughter.”
Daemon laid a hand upon yours that sat on the table, smiling at you proudly.
“Thank you, Father. Rhaenyra has helped me pick the most beautiful of dresses. I owe it to her.”
The lovely couple now peer at each other lovingly before your Uncle rose up to speak, back hunched and breath coming out rugged and wild. Even while his face was covered, it was obvious his health was declining by the second. 
“It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world… yet grown so distant from each other… in the years past.” His hand reaches up, grasping the gold mask and unclasping it, making you tense up immediately from surprise. 
A skull. His skull. 
The right side of his face had sunken in and molded to the bones of his face, the eye gone forever like his son’s. It was a horrible sight, but knowing that the man who had to endure it was your darling uncle made your heart ache.
“My own face… is no longer a handsome one… if indeed it ever was. But tonight… I wish you to see me… as I am. Not just a king… but your father. Your brother. Your husband… and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems… walk for much longer among you.” The mask is dropped to the table with a loud CLUNK, “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown… then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”
Viserys shrinks back into his seat, being helped by Alicent who assists him in wiping his mouth, Rhaenyra now abruptly standing and holding her cup up. Her foot visibly shook from under the table, “I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen.”
The two women looked each other in the eyes, Alicent’s gaze softening a bit at those words before she continued. 
“I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood… more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with… unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude… and my apology.”
She takes a quiet seat, setting her cup down, and Alicent responds.
“Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess. We are both mothers… and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow.” She stands, ringed hand grasping her cup, “I raise my cup to you… and to your house. You will make a fine queen.”
Rhaenyra and Alicent are both smiling to themselves as Alicent finally sits, and oddly enough, Rhaenyra raises her cup once again and looks to you now with a soft gaze, one of a mother.
“I’d also like to announce… Here and now, since Y/N is now my oldest child by law, I want to grant her the title as heir to the Iron Throne after me. A title very deserving of such a smart and beautiful woman, I loved your mother and she’d be very proud of how far you have come.” She raises the cup higher, everyone now doing so except Aegon whom was too busy drowning himself in booze.
“Hear, hear!” 
Daemon clasps a proud hand on your shoulder, but your eyes gravitate to Aemond who tilted his cup to you with a smirk before taking a rather large gulp. A sign of respect perhaps? 
The positive feelings were always to be interrupted, with Aegon now up and refilling his cup of wine. He was whispering to your sister, not loud enough for you to hear until Jace slammed his fists into the table, seat skittering as he rose quite quickly. 
Jace clears his throat, but the tensions didn’t stop rising, Aemond now stood and eyeing up Jacerys, almost mentally telling him to stand down. And instead of attacking Aegon, Jace raised his cup to toast, patting Aegon on the shoulder rather awkwardly.
“To Prince Aegon and… Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles.” He takes a swift swig of his wine and gives Aegon another pat on the shoulder for the second time, making the man audibly groan, “To you as well.”
Aemond slowly shuffled back down into his seat and Helaena muttered a phrase under her breath while messing about with a thing in her clutches, “Beware the beast beneath the boards…”
“Well done, my boy.”
Helaena stands a bit off kilter, raising her wine glass, “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you… except sometimes when he’s drunk.”
A bit of laughter choruses from the two families and the bright girl takes her seat once again, smiling wider than before. She was definitely your favorite between her and Aegon.
“Let us have some music.”
The prospect of hearing gentle tunes eased the anxiety of being sat at the table, and you visibly relaxed, holding the hand that Rhaenyra had held out to you, tightly. Jacerys stood up and excused himself before offering a hand to Helaena to dance, the girl taking his hand with a faint enthusiasm. Aegon, however, looked offended at that fact, yet the two still jumped around merrily with large smiles on their faces, putting a smile on your face also. 
What shocked you was the tap on the shoulder you received, followed by the piercing eye of the man you adored staring down at you.
“Would you care to dance, Princess…?”
You hesitated at first, feeling your father’s eyes barreling into your head, yet your hand found Aemond’s, his fingers gently cusping over yours as he guided you to rise from your seat and stand near your brother and aunt.
One hand stayed clasped in his, the other on his rather broad shoulder as his free hand slid down to greet your waist with a singular touch. He guided the whole waltz, taking the liberty of spinning you and adding flare to the dance, making you giggle and laugh out into the night, all to the displeasure of your father, intensely watching the whole interaction with distaste. Yet, your uncle only watched you two adoringly, seeing himself and Aemma within you and Aemond. A tough man and his adoring wife, a misunderstood boy and the one who understands him the most.
Eventually, the man who held your very heart in his palm guided you back to your seat, kissing your hand ever so kindly before taking his seat, grabbing his chalice to take a hefty gulp of wine. Rhaenyra looked fairly happy, face turned upward and eyes sparkling with child-like wonder that she had lost ages ago. Alicent looked just about the same, smiling at her. It felt… good, and normal, and like home, to be with all the people in your family.
The moment was cut short when Viserys began to groan in pain and Alicent called for the guards to escort him back to his chambers for rest, your father’s face dropping at seeing his brother in pain. Yet, servants came in with various food items as the king was just leaving, a finely cooked pig being set in front of Aemond. 
This aroused a laugh out of Lucerys, who was looking Aemond in the eye while openly laughing, the music coming to a stop once Aemond slammed a fist into the wooden table. His thin and wiry fingers curled atop the wine chalice, raising it up.
“Final tribute.”
Discomfort surfaced over every other emotion you felt, and you pleaded with him through desperate eye contact which seemingly egged him on further. 
“To the health of my nephews: Jace… Luke… and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…”
Alicent almost seems to stiffen, eyeing up her son, while his eyes bounced between his nephews and you. He was going to say it, you knew it, you felt it in your very heart of hearts, so you braced for the outrage.
“Hm… strong.”
“Aemond–”
“Come… let us drain our cups to these three…” Aegon raises his cup, “Strong boys.”
“I dare you to say that again–”
“Why?” He gazes at Jace, “‘Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?”
The two boys strided towards each other quickly and Jace quickly swung a punch towards Aemond, striking him in the face. It sounded like Lucerys was also getting in a squabble, but you were only focused on Aemond being okay and Jace being unscathed. 
You quickly rose and went to grab Jace to separate him and Aemond, but Aegon took the moment to let go of Lucerys and throw you into the table with him, causing your sisters to shout loudly and stand up, ready to defend you. 
The guards quickly ended the fighting, but not before Aemond shoved Jace down to the ground with a chuckle. 
Daemon was quick to help you from the table, holding you with loving arms of a father who cared heavily for his first-born daughter and future heir to the throne after Rhaenyra. Your eyes were on Aemond, who seemed satisfied with the petty squabbles, and even though he wasn’t looking at you, he could feel how hurt you were, like it was raining upon him from the very skies. 
“Why would you say such a thing before these people?”
“I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother.” Daemon looks at you with eyes of suspicion due to your lingering stare towards Aemond, “Mm, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.” 
Jace lunges for Aemond, but you step up, “Wait, wait!”
You hold your arms up to keep distance between Aemond and Jace, everyone's face contorting in confusion. Rhaenyra excuses her sons to go to bed and you keep eye contact with Aemond. 
“You went too far–”
“Y/N–”
“You went too far and you know it, Aemond. I thought you… cared for me.. Enough to at least not claim my brothers are bastards.”
His face contorts to one of guilt, looking almost sorry for even causing such trouble. His eyes suddenly look behind you, and you know your father is most likely staring arrows into Aemond. 
“Mm..” You hear Daemon behind you, and Aemond shrugs it off, now walking away with haste. Before you could chase after him, Daemon gently grabs our wrist to hold you in place.
“Daughter, do you hold affections for the boy who just insulted your brothers?”
Rhaenyra stared intensely from beside him.
“If I did… then what? Would you have me exiled like you were? Fulfill what everyone thinks, that I am a mini version of you? I just want everyone to get along for once, but it seems there will always be a strain upon both of our families…” You look at Alicent, whom looks visibly happy that you are finally saying something about how you feel. Something she could never do as a young woman due to the men in her life.
“I will love who I want, and if Aemond is the one I choose… then so be it. Disinherit me from the throne, throw my name from our family books, I could care less.”
Before Daemon could speak, you walked past him, sending Rhaenyra an apologetic look with your hands balled into fists. You had to find Aemond.
-
You would eventually find Aemond within his chambers, clutching his eyepatch in his left hand while staring wearily out of the window to his left. You couldn’t see his lost eye from the angle you were standing at, but you could see his other eye, blue and almost glowing with the light of the night. 
“You defend me against your family, yet when I insult them, you barely bat an eye… why?”
His voice is calm, low and tired. He had a point, why did you defend him? Should you have just sided with Rhaenyra and her blood children?
“Aemond…–”
“The connection we felt as young children was fleeting, yet you didn’t partake in beating me to a pulp. Why?”
You took firm steps to get closer to him, but he kept his head tilted just so you couldn’t see the other side of his face. He looked almost scared to be vulnerable with you. Yet, you brought a hand up to his cheek and slowly turned his head to look fully to you, and you stifle a gasp.
A sapphire glowed faintly in the socket where his eye would have been, the blue striking and beautiful. It held a sapphire glare, one that made your heart skip a beat. 
He was beautiful, even if his mind told him he was imperfect.
“I’m monstrous, aren’t I?”
“Not in the slightest.”
His face softened significantly at your words and his head leaned down to be against yours, cold yet inviting.
“You always reminded me of sapphires, and I wanted to always keep you in my mind’s eye.”
“Such flattery should only come between those who know each other deeply-”
Before you could utter a word more, his lips were on yours. 
The ocean and the flames, The sapphire and the ruby, together at last.
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