Tumgik
#SINCE PLEDGING OPENED????
toxicjayhoo · 7 months
Text
COTF are absolutely bonkers getting the NWFT comic backed in 2 minutes lmfao
4 notes · View notes
michyeosseo · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I am always indebted to you.   – It will cost quite a lot.
Honey Lee and Yoon Sa Bong as JO YEO-HWA & JANG SO-WOON
KNIGHT FLOWER (2024)
51 notes · View notes
Text
instagram
Wtf is wrong with the comments 😭
0 notes
saryasy · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
He appears as an iconic image in the artwork of many cultures, and there are several documented accounts of his appearances, and his warnings to the many who attempted to open the box before its time. His last recorded appearance was during the London blitz in 1941. The warehouse where the Pandorica was stored was destroyed by incendiary bombs, but the box itself was found the next morning, a safe distance from the blaze. There are eyewitness accounts from the night of the fire of a figure in Roman dress, carrying the box from the flames. Since then, there have been no sightings of the Lone Centurion, and many have speculated that if he ever existed, he perished in the fires of that night, performing one last act of devotion to the box he had pledged to protect for nearly two thousand years. - Rory, the boy who waited.
DOCTOR WHO (2005-) | 5.13 The Big Bang
2K notes · View notes
ghostgirl101 · 2 months
Note
I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting
Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||
A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩
Tumblr media
You can't escape fate.
It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.
At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.
"You aren't resting."
Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.
"What troubles you?"
You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.
"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.
But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.
"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"
"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."
"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"
You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.
You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.
"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."
Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.
"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."
"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"
"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."
The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.
"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."
And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."
Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.
"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."
You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.
"Won't you tell me?"
Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.
"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.
"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.
"Not like you do," you answer steadily.
"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."
Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.
"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."
"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."
"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"
Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.
You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.
"A queen?"
"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.
"To being desired?"
You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."
"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."
You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.
"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."
"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."
"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."
══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════
Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie
2K notes · View notes
webslingingslasher · 1 year
Note
Frat Peter and he's all cocky, but he gets really shy when you're around and his friends keep teasing him about his little crush and how he's putty in your hands and you don't even know?
god i love him so much
“Your girls here, parker.” 
Peter rolls his eyes, as much as he denies no one believes him. You’re not his girl, not by a long shot but god does he wish you were. The jab still couldn’t stop him from swiveling his neck, sure enough you were laughing with friends, your wide smile made him smile too. You looked so pretty, he’s never seen someone fill out clothes the way you do. 
He needs to find a way to talk to you, it started as group partners and he may have played a little dumb to get you to study with him, just for some one on one time. Since then you’ve gotten closer, and everyday he feels more and more like a lovesick puppy. He’d do anything you ask, just so he can prove he could make you happy. 
“Pong, let’s go, parker.” 
Peter wants to whine like a toddler, he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on you. Not that he needs to, and definitely not to scare off a potential suitor, he just wants to make sure you’re safe, that’s all. He looks you over again, you’re with friends and he thinks you’ll be alright. 
Right before he can turn back to his brothers your eyes flicker up, meeting his you send a grin. Peter’s been caught, he’s been looking over you for a minute and that smile said ‘caught you,’ it made his cheeks warm, a faint blush coats his cheeks and you can’t help but watch as his friends hoop and shake his shoulders, causing him to nearly run to the garage for a game of beer pong. 
Peter doesn’t know how long he’s been playing. He knows it’s been about three games, and he’s trying to act the perfect amount of buzzed. What he does know is that time stopped when you came looking for him, his ears picking up on your fluttery soft voice pushing for apologies.
“Do you know where peter is?” 
Wasted white girl looks appalled you asked, “who the fuck is peter?” 
“Oh. Um, parker?” 
Wasted white girl drags out an ‘oh,’ then points in his general direction, you raise on tiptoes, looking over the shoulders in the cramped room, catching sight of his snapback, turned backwards. You started to make your decent, politely excusing yourself and apologizing when you rub up against someone. 
You think about tapping his shoulder, but you’re a menace. You tug at his hat, pulling it off his head, before you can complete the task his hand grips your wrist, a dull tone comes from his mouth. 
“Don’t do that.” 
Your hand drops, you didn’t know there was a boundary there. 
“I’m sorry!” 
His head whips to yours, wide eyed and flushed. 
“I didn’t know it was you! You can do that, you have my permission.” 
His teammate, Ethan, if you remember correctly, coughed into his hand, one word slipping from his mouth made Peter jerk his shoulder into his. “Simp.” 
You furrow your eyebrows, “peter’s not a simp, that’s mean. You should say sorry.” 
Ethan is having fun, “oh trust me, if you knew what I know, you would call him a simp too.” Peter, in a panic, rips his hat off his head and throws it on yours, it falls over your eyes, you fix it with enough time to watch Peter mumble out “watch it,” before directing all his attention on you. 
“Looking good.” 
You do a spin for him, “think I can pledge next year?” 
“You have my vote.” 
Ethan had to bite back another simp comment. 
“Can you do me a favor?” 
Rushed, “anything.” 
Ethan can’t help his snort, he tries to hide it behind clearing his throat. 
Peter wants to kill his friend. 
“I’ve been ditched and I really have to pee, so would you mind watching my drink?” 
Peter holds out a hand to take it, his palm covering the open mouth. “It would be my honor.” 
You smile at him, “thanks, be right back.” 
“Five minutes and I come looking.” 
That was new, it was protective. It made you feel warm and safe inside, he was a really good friend. You promised you would be back, but the line was longer than you expected and you were unable to complete the task in just a few minutes. 
Peter kept count, and like he said, went looking. Ethan’s pissed that they’ve now lost the game to a forfeit, all because Peter was head over heels in a gushy crush. You bound down the steps in time to see Peter getting aggravated by his friend, you couldn’t help but overhear.
“You know this is super entertaining, right?” 
“Shut up, Ethan.” 
“It’s adorable. The way you run after her, bending to her will. Who knew parker had a bitch in him.” 
In one quick motion Peter had him pinned to the wall. 
“Don’t ruin this for me. I’m gonna make a move, alright? She makes me nervous and I’m not used to this, okay?” 
“Ask her on a fucking date, I’d put a thousand on the line she’d say yes.” 
You wonder who he’s talking about, you have more than an inkling it’s you but Peter’s never seemed interested, just a good friend. It must have been someone else. 
“I’m not betting on Y/N, I like her too much.” 
Oh fuck. He is talking about you, and it makes you warm and fuzzy all over. 
Ethan is right, you would say yes. 
You duck your head down, pressing against the bars on the stairway. 
“I’m okay with you betting on me, take the grand and then take me out on a nice date.” 
Peter’s eyes blew up, he wanted to punch Ethan. He also wanted to thank him. 
“It’s not like that!” Peter feels his brain melt, stop talking, why are you talking?  
You frown, “it’s not?” 
Ethan tries to push his head against the wall, his chin poking up high to get a view of you crouched down. “It is like that, you heard him.” He gags when Peter presses his forearm against his throat, it’s not meant to hurt, just silence. 
“Well, if it is like that, and I make you nervous, there really isn’t a need cause I would say yes.” 
Peter’s arm drops, “come here.” 
Ethan takes this as his moment to escape, you watch the stairs as you follow them down, narrowly missing a spilled beer. Peter meets you at the bottom of the staircase, he hands you over the drink he’d been watching. 
“Thank you.” 
“No problem.” 
You blinked at the boy, he stood there and looked at his hat on your head. You waited until it started to get awkward. 
“If you don’t ask, I will, then I’ll have ripped the rights from you. You’ll have to tell our grandkids you chickened out.” 
That doesn’t sound bad to him, but he thinks the least he can do is get the words out. 
“I would really, really like to take you out for dinner, is that okay?” 
You chew your cheek, “what’s your policy on kissing before the first date?” 
“It should be a thing.” 
You bite your lower lip to hide your smile, it didn’t work. 
“Wanna make it a thing?” 
5K notes · View notes
fuckyeahgoodomens · 29 days
Text
Good Omens graphic novel update: April 2024
Admin & updates
PledgeManager
Earlier this month, we launched the PledgeManager, where shipping is being facilitated. If you missed it, you can read the initial announcement here. We have been adapting the FAQ page to add further recurring asks, so please do visit there if you have a particular query as a starting point. You can view this here. We are working through all queries received - some are taking a bit longer than others, as they need to be raised with PledgeManager, or others involved, so we appreciate your patience in these instances where we are yet to get back. The most common question, which we include here, is the sock sizes:
Tumblr media
If you need to change your size, you have the ability to self-unlock your order and make any adjustments you need to. For socks that are part of a tier, there is a button to unlock and modify on the bottom of your receipt where you can alter your choice. If they were an add on, PledgeManager recommends that you remove the item from your cart and add it again with the correct size selected and complete their order to finalize the change.
Shipping
We are also aware of queries arising about the shipping rates themselves. While we have been open from the start of the project that shipping will be charged at a later date, we understand that the resultant cost has come as a surprise to some and that some prices are higher than expected. We want to be transparent on this: we have been working with our fulfillment partners on confirming product weights and the rates for shipping globally during the months since the project’s completion. The cost of doing this ethically - ensuring that everyone involved in the process from creators to those packing boxes is paid fairly, as well as ensuring the packaging is robust at this scale - is substantial.
We’ve done our best to minimise extra costs around shipping, while also not cutting any corners – we want your pledge rewards to reach you safe and sound. We have also subsidised costs across a number of territories, but costs for shipping to many locations remain high. The final thing we’ve done is lock in shipping costs now, a year out from fulfillment. We expect third party shipping costs to increase over the coming year, following the upwards trends across the board so far, but we will continue to absorb any subsequent rises.
We want to assure backers that the shipping does not include a profit margin for us, and every charge to our backers is something we’ve tried to minimise.
We absolutely understand that this is disappointing to many, and we endeavour to keep making the surrounding campaign the best it can be.
The timeline
The PledgeManager will run across 2024, and close at some point ahead of publication date (Spring 2025). When that date has been decided, we will give everyone as much notice as possible.
FAQ
As above, here is the centralised FAQ page. This will be updated over the coming year.
Cameos
Prior updates had noted the deadline for this has passed, however given the new publication date of the graphic novel, this has been extended slightly for God Tier and Archangel Tier backers. Please check your messages and emails if you backed either of these tiers and have not submitted your likeness.
Merch and more
Things are ramping up at Good Omens HQ, first of all with this delivery of one or two mugs at the warehouse:
Tumblr media
We’ve also got David Aja’s print featuring Aziraphale, Crowley and Dog, in their glorious orangey hues which will appear in Serpent Tier+:
Tumblr media
The trading cards are at the testing stage for game mechanics, while some of the early design prototypes are in for artist variants and we really can’t wait to start sharing these with you when they’re a bit further down the road. Almost there.
For those ready to capture your inner Pratchett and Gaiman on the page (Demon+), we have your notebooks:
Tumblr media
More from Colleen…
We’ve continued to see gorgeous artwork arrive from Colleen and here’s one that slipped into our inbox this week:
Tumblr media
And we thought we’d sign off this month with a glimpse at our favourite antiquarian bookshop:
Tumblr media
739 notes · View notes
assriels · 26 days
Text
take me to church
Tumblr media
pairing: azriel x f!reader
summary: azriel was not a religious male, but you were his goddess incarnate and he would willingly worship at your feet until his dying breath
word count: 3.8k
warnings: smut (18+!! mdni pls), canon typical religious imagery, allusions to azriel’s work but nothing explicit
a/n: my hozier era has returned i fear
masterlist
banners by @/cafekitsune !
Tumblr media
Azriel was not a particularly religious male, offering his acknowledgement to the Mother oftentimes in the heat of battle, on the brink of death as a curse on his lips, hoping someone somewhere would heed his plea to live another day. Whatever religious underpinnings existed within him were but remnants from ancient tradition, built into his body as steadily as his bones. But, aside from the rare moments he’d faced Death and lived, Azriel was not one to offer daily prayers of thanks.
Since meeting you decades ago however, Azriel had considered more and more changing his relative indifference to the celestial beings that reigned. He was sure he hadn’t done anything in his lifetime to deserve you as a lover — let alone a mate — but still the Mother blessed him, and for that he was more grateful than words or prayers could ever express. 
Every brush of your lips against his skin, every tender gaze and soft smile was enough to bring Azriel to his knees every night before the altar between your legs. He sang praises and hymns until his jaw was sore, desperate to pull those seraphic moans from the depths of your throat as he worshiped you ceaselessly. He pledged his life to you the moment the bond snapped for him, never having been able to imagine an existence without you by his side.
Azriel had assumed that he was condemned to a life of desolation and loneliness, rotting with guilt and insecurity for all the things he had done and all the things he could never be. But despite the blood that perpetually stained his scarred hands and the weight of his past burdening his shoulders, you never shied away. Never so much as frowned when he confessed to you the serpentine nature of his hidden work for the Night Court or the calamity he’d endured as a young, lost child. 
You had sat and listened all those years ago, delicate fingers tracing the calluses on his palm as if the lines on his hands whispered all of the things he left unsaid. You’d understood the complexities of his character, loved them as much as you loved every other part of him. 
You made your unwavering affection for him known at every possible opportunity, often massaging away the crease between his brows when you knew he was losing himself to the spiral of his unwanted thoughts. You’d kiss his forehead and run your fingers through his hair, silent but understanding as you allowed him time to open himself up to you in whatever manner he pleased.
Azriel’s adoration of you was no different. He cherished the way you confided in him, revealing to him the depths of your own darkness and fears. He would safeguard your trust with his dying breath, always and forever striving to be your safe space, a lockbox where you could store your darkest thoughts and insecurities without fear of judgment. 
Just as you had always done for him. Just as you were doing now.
In the comfort of your shared bedroom in your private residence, you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, rolling on to your toes to kiss the back of his neck while he undid the intricate laces and buckles of his leathers. Your deft fingers soon joined his in the process as you both worked in comfortable silence to unfasten the tediously complex web of clasps. 
The tension in his shoulders and the microscopic ruffle in his brow was all you needed to conclude that his latest task was a gruesome one. One of those missions that tended to stick around, following him and taunting him until his guilt festered and spread. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, voice steady as you removed the last of his Siphons secured tightly around his bicep. It was an effort not to gawk at his exquisite physique that lay hidden beneath the constricting leathers; no matter how many times you’d seen Azriel shirtless, you didn’t think you’d ever get used to the sight. 
He hummed in response, taking a moment to survey his torso in the mirror for any cuts or bruises that needed tending to. When he didn’t spot any — most of them had quickly stitched themselves together on the flight back home — he met your gaze in the mirror and shook his head gently, “Not really.” 
Azriel was somewhat avoidant by nature, too used to minimizing his feelings in lieu of the success of a mission, but the gentle definitiveness in his tone told you all you needed to know. He’d open up about this latest operation when he was ready, but he needed time to process and think, formulate coherent thoughts about what had transpired. And as much as you wanted to soothe the emotional aches and pains you knew plagued him after every mission, you would give him that time. 
You sighed and came to stand in front of him, taking both his cheeks in your hands as you forced his gaze to yours. It took everything in him not to lose himself in those pretty eyes of yours.
Azriel could sense the worry you habitually hid in the moments after he returned home, and so he leaned into your touch, turning to kiss the heart of your palm before offering you reassurances, “I’m okay. Promise.” 
Azriel held his pinky out cutely and you chuckled, shaking your head fondly before wrapping your own around his. You used your joined hands as leverage to pull him down to slot your lips over his. Azriel sighed contentedly at the pressure of your kiss, his long lashes fluttering shut as his hands repositioned themselves around your body. 
One hand splayed steadily on the cage of your ribs as the other made the devious trek down, grabbing a handful of your ass to squeeze playfully. 
You yelped and pulled away as he smirked at you fondly. His gaze traveled over your shoulder to look in the mirror, never tiring of how the curves of your body looked pressed against his. 
The two of you stayed like that for a long while, Azriel’s chin hooked over your head as your arms wound themselves comfortably around his waist. The cadence of his heartbeat was one you were well acquainted with, like a steady metronome that measured itself to the beat of your own heart. 
When he pressed his lips to the crown of your head, you murmured, “Want to take a bath?”
You felt the near imperceptible quickening of his pulse against your ear and you pressed yourself further into his chest, reveling in the way he so instinctively reacted to every little thing you did.
“Only if you join me,” he responded cheekily, corners of his lips twitching in affectionate jest.
You hummed and pretended to think about it, shifting to rest your chin against his heart, pretty lashes fluttering as you looked up at him. 
“I could be convinced.”
Gods, how beautiful you looked. How beautiful you always looked. Your charming allure caught Azriel off guard every single time you merely breathed in his direction, and he briefly wondered if he’d ever get used to the ease in which you enchanted him without even meaning to. 
Unable to resist, his hands came up to cradle your jaw, supporting your neck as he bent down to kiss you, his nose brushing affectionately against yours as he pulled away. 
“I’ll carry you,” he offered, lips brushing your skin, hazel eyes never once leaving yours.
“Deal,” you said, laughing delightedly when he lifted you, throwing you playfully over his shoulder to make a beeline to the bathroom.
Running a bath — a normally automatic part of Azriel’s routine — was made infinitely harder when he was so busy pressing his lips to your jaw, your cheeks, your mouth. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him tonight — maybe it was the adrenaline from a hard task completed, the warmth of home coaxing him to let go and savor you — but he wasn’t complaining. And neither were you, if the way you matched his fervor was anything to go by. 
When both of you finally settled into the warm water, he sighed in contentment, lazily, adoringly watching as the tension eased out of your shoulders. 
Before you came into his life, Azriel had never really understood the desire to worship. He knew logically that it was an act of devotion, but never did he really feel the inclination to pray to a god in thanks.
But it was moments like these — the wonderfully mundane moments of bliss with you — that finally made him understand. If the Mother was anything like you, it wasn’t difficult for Azriel to fathom a devotee’s need to pray.
He thought this as he ran his soapy hands gingerly over your body, as he buried his fingers in your hair to massage your scalp. If you were his goddess, then these were his acts of reverence and he would practice until his physical body no longer could.
And when you did the same for him, when you gently scrubbed his back and wings and arms and chest with the deliberation and gentility of an artist with a craft, he thought that maybe this gratification was what the gods felt when their followers prayed. 
After a while, once the soap had run down the drain and the water was warm and clear again, you settled against him with your back pressed to his chest. 
It was in that moment he realized the arousal that had slowly eked its way into his bloodstream; he had been too busy basking in the feel of your fingertips on his aching muscles to realize that your lovingly innocent touch had made him hard. Embarrassingly so.
“Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly, his attention now on the way his cock pressed so tightly against your lower back.
Your laugh — melodic and lovely — curled around his ears in a lover’s embrace, “Don’t be sorry. I’m irresistible, I know.”
He knew you’d meant to tease, but he couldn’t help but agree; if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought that you’d casted a spell on him to ensnare his unyielding devotion to you. Your head fell back onto his shoulder and you captured his chin in your fingers to tilt his lips towards yours. 
This kiss, unlike the ones you two had shared earlier in the night, was much more insistent, revving your desire with each stroke of his tongue. 
His hands remained frustratingly chaste on the curve of your waist, and you squirmed in his embrace, willing him to touch you. The pressure of him against your back and the feel of his mouth — now leaving a scathing trail of little bites down your neck — pressed to your skin left the space between your legs slick with a wetness unattributable to the warm bath water. 
Your hand settled over his and for a brief moment your mind flickered to appreciation of the ridges raised by the scars that wound themselves like vines up his fingers to his wrists. Azriel had always been somewhat self conscious of the puckered skin of his hands, but you stood firm in the belief that they only served to make him that much more wonderful. 
(And you couldn’t deny the pleasurable sensation they added when his fingers were buried inside you. But that was neither here nor there.) 
You guided his touch as he reared back up to kiss you again. You led one of his hands down between your legs and the other to your chest, where he eagerly played with the peak of your nipples. 
“Oh?” he intoned, amusement coloring his inquiry at the feel of how wet he now realized you were. 
“Sorry,” you muttered, mimicking his earlier apology with much less sheepishness.
“Don’t be sorry,” he mimed back to you. His hands fell into a practiced rhythm, circling your clit with delicious pressure. 
You arched into his touch, moans falling from your lips as he teased your entrance before he mercifully sank a single digit into you. The stretch was a welcome feeling, but it quickly dissolved into the need for more. But it seemed that Azriel was in no hurry, languidly alternating between lazy strokes and nonchalant circles.
You arched again, silently pleading with him to give you more as you gripped his knee beneath the now tepid water. Though the heat of your body alone was probably enough to re-warm the bath. 
Azriel indulged you, unable to resist your alluring pull. He added another finger to his ministrations, blissfully dizzy with the sounds falling from your lips. His other hand snaked from your nipples down between your legs, timing his well placed caresses of your clit to the unrelenting plunge of his fingers. 
He knew you were close — so quick, he thought with a lethal satisfaction — by the octave of your moans and the desperate way your hands fought for purchase on his legs, your breasts. 
He bit down on that wonderfully tender spot at the junction between your shoulder and neck, and shivered when he felt you clench around his fingers, walls pulsing temptingly around his fingers as you came. 
Azriel captured your lips with his own once more, prolonging the pleasure from your release for as long as possible. You shifted to straddle him, never once breaking the kiss as the water sloshed dangerously close to the lip of the tub. 
The way you ground your hips down onto his had him groaning, eyebrows furrowing with the effort to restrain himself. He could take you now, could give in to your attempts to guide him inside you, but you were shivering, goosebumps raising the skin on your back and shoulders as the chilled water and even chillier night air caressed your form. 
Besides, his mind was working in overdrive, crafting plan after plan to have you keening and arching for him, all of which required a more comfortable setting than the marble bathtub in your bathroom. 
He stood with ease, looping your legs around his midsection to carry you back to the bed.
He tossed you softly — though quite unceremoniously — onto the bed, and you would have complained about getting the sheets wet, but 1) you knew Azriel would make an obscene joke about how they’d get wet anyway and 2) the feel of his cock grinding against your clit was enough to rob your consciousness of any coherent thought. 
Azriel was murmuring sweet endearments into your damp skin as he made the excruciatingly slow trek down your body, his lips mapping a tedious trail of kisses down your torso as if he were committing each ridge and valley to memory in fear that he’d lose his way on the journey back. 
Finally, finally his mouth found that wonderfully sweet spot between your legs and he licked a broad stripe up the length of you. You shivered as he lingered, tongue lazily alternating between teasingly shallow strokes inside you to wide circles around your clit. 
It was torture of the purest kind that he wasn’t giving you exactly what he knew you wanted, and by the wicked glint in his darkened hazel eyes, you could tell he was being intentional. Your fingers found their home in the impossibly silky and slightly damp strands of his hair as you attempted to pull his mouth tighter against you, petulant pout curving your lips downward.
His responding chuckle was enough to make you groan, the reverberation vibrating against your cunt before settling tantalizingly in your bones. Azriel’s arms came up to encircle your legs, effectively keeping you from grinding your hips up. You tossed your head back and keened, giving in to the languidness of his affections. 
Your eyes met his at the sound of a purposely lewd smack of his lips against you, and you felt him smirk against you before you were swiftly flipped over. 
“Azriel!”
What was meant to be a gasp of surprise quickly devolved into a moan of pleasure by the time the last syllable of his name left your lips. You were acutely aware of the sudden switch in positions as you were now straddling your mate’s head. 
He coaxed your gaze down to his with a featherlight touch down your spine, and you were met with a swirling mix of love, lust, and adoration swimming in pools of hazel. Your chest swelled momentarily and you probably would’ve said something sweet and much more coherent than what left your mouth as he pulled you down onto him and feasted. 
Azriel was addicted to the way he could make you fall apart, even from beneath you with your knees straddling his head. It was borderline sinful – an angel brought to the precipice of obscenity and seduction.
His hips shifted on the bed, body desperate to find friction. But this moment was yours, and so Azriel refrained from giving in to his baser physical desires. His tongue sang praises against your cunt, his hymns translated to the exquisite moans that fell from your lips. 
It wasn’t long before you were toppling over that wonderful edge into what felt like a never ending orgasm. You could barely register the change in your positions again, head spinning and dizzy with insurmountable pleasure; before you knew it, your back was pressed against the cool sheets of the bed, eyes glassy with a post-orgasm haze.
Azriel leaned down to kiss you then, a sweet contrast to the near indecent way you could taste yourself lingering on his lips. He took his time kissing you, sending you wave after wave of undying love and loyalty down that invisible golden tether wound tight around your heart. 
You briefly thought of returning the favor, of flipping him onto his back and putting your mouth on him in just the way you knew would coax those wonderfully rare sounds of unbridled, wanton pleasure from him. But his body was heavy against yours – a more than welcome comfort – and you couldn’t find the strength in you to pull away from the warmth of his skin. 
You arched into him as you wound your arms around his neck, pulling him closer while you encircled your legs around his waist. Relishing in the way he shuddered against you, you urged your hips up to grind against his, aching for the feel of him despite having just orgasmed. Twice. 
Thankfully he obliged you, shifting to ease himself inside you, slowly – gods, so slowly – pushing into you with the deliberation and practiced self-discipline of a male centuries trained in espionage. 
Azriel let out a half-restrained groan when his hips were flush against yours, always marveling at how close you could make him without even lifting a finger. He had meant to take a few moments to collect himself, not wanting to ruin the moment with a quick release (though admittedly he was struggling), but you shifted beneath him impatiently as you whispered salacious pleas into the shell of his ear. 
The drag of his cock in and out of you was a pleasure you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to, and you couldn’t help the prurient sounds that tumbled from your lips. Though, this just seemed to urge Azriel faster, more insistent in the most delicious way. 
You knew he was close by the way his breath hitched in his throat and his fingers tightened around the flesh of your thigh. The feel of his abs flexing as he pushed his hips into yours and the perfectly timed grind of his hips against your clit filled your head with a heady, hazy bliss and you nearly forgot where you were for a moment. 
You wound your fingers into his hair to steady him as you bit kisses into his jaw, nails raking a gentle path of encouragement down his back.
“Come for me, Az,” you half-pleaded, half-commanded.
And he did. With a gasp and moan so beautiful it sent you into another spiral of pleasure, arching into him as he whispered incoherent praises into your neck. 
As you basked in the aftermath, chest heaving and legs tangled beneath your fluffy duvet, Azriel couldn’t help but feel a lightening in his chest. He once again thought of how he had been shown so much mercy, so much kindness by the Mother, the gods – who or whatever governed the celestial plane of existence – to be bound so graciously to you. He never ceased to be amazed that he had met his goddess incarnate and had the overwhelming honor of loving her. 
With your cheek resting above his heart, he didn’t doubt that you could hear the quickening of his pulse when he pressed his lips to your hair. “I love you.”
Those three words were his prayer, his penance, his praise, and he would never stop offering them to you so long as you allowed him the privilege of saying them. He could feel you smile as you kissed his collarbone, sleepily offering your benediction in return, “Love you.”
As you fell asleep, encased in the warmth and safety of his arms, he idly traced the lines of your mating tattoo, swirling tendrils of ink dancing up your hip to your waist. He always loved how they were so reminiscent of his shadows. The shadows that were now winding through your hair and tickling your cheeks in adoration. 
As he too began slipping into the sweet relief of slumber, he briefly thought of his mission – it had felt so far away, so long ago now that he was guarded within the shield of your presence – and the guilt and sorrow he’d feel in the coming days. He used to dread the aftermath of his work, never allowing himself to rest comfortably for fear that sleep would be too much of an undeserved reprieve for the atrocities he’d committed. 
But ever since he selfishly allowed himself to love and be loved by you, he had found solace in your embrace. You couldn’t offer absolution of his sins – if such a thing even existed – but he was certain you were his salvation. An offering from the Cauldron – that he was convinced he was wholly unworthy of – as a chance to right his wrongs. You listened and loved him and saw him for all of the parts he was ashamed of, and for that he would willingly spend the rest of his life striving to deserve.
(Though he was sure you’d frown at him and adamantly insist that he need not do anything but exist to deserve the love you gave him.)
As he let himself descend into the comforting darkness of sleep, Azriel thought that if he would be punished in his next life for the sins he committed in this one, as long as he’d be able to love you through it all it would be worth it. 
685 notes · View notes
mokulule · 9 days
Text
Eternity, I pledge
Dead on MAYn Day 3  Prompt: King Danny & Knight Jason Warnings: angsty and bittersweet.
Jason kneeled in front of his King. Around them the court of ghosts were quiet, but they could have been shouting for all that Jason noticed them; he only had eyes for one person.
Danny.
His King, his savior, his… friend. He had never seen him cold like this. For all that he had a core of ice, he usually had such warmth to him, a smile never far from his lips. 
He was laughter and gentle teasing as he eased Jason into his new powers - softening Jason’s frustration with tales of his own early struggles with his powers. He was a grounding hand to hold as Jason had to come to terms with the fact he hadn’t come all the way back. He was a tired smile after a long patrol, dark circles under human eyes, blunt nails rubbing into his scalp, something they hadn’t talked about building warm and pleasant in the space between them.
But now he was cold, frigid and deadly like icy waters. He was furious.
It wasn’t like Jason had expected him to be happy, Jason wasn’t an idiot. He’d known Danny would be unhappy, but he hadn’t expected this.
“Make your pledge then,” Danny finally spoke, though it was more like a cold snap. Frost nipped at Jason’s very human nose. There was nothing to do but go ahead, Jason could no more take back his actions than Danny could refuse them. He met Danny’s glowing blue eyes straight on and forced himself to speak loudly and firmly.
“I, Jason Todd, pledge myself to you, Danny Phantom, High King of the Infinite realms, to uphold your word as law, to serve as both your sword and shield-“ Jason paused to take a breath and then plunged in, “to be your Knight until the End.”
His words rang out with finality. The ancient pledge had not been heard in millennia, not since Halloween pledged himself to Dark and was dubbed Fright Knight. He suppressed a gasp as energy surged in his core. He felt open, laid bare. 
Finally Danny pulled the ice sword at his side, it howled like a storm as it escaped its scabbard. Jason felt chilled, for one terrifying moment certain that Danny would reject his pledge and plunge the blade into his chest. He had no idea where that came from. He trusted Danny with his life, but he had never seen him so angry.
Then, the blade rested lightly on one shoulder, then the next.
“Rise, my Red Knight.”
Jason rose stiffly. This would probably have been easier in ghost form, if nothing else he’d have been more resistant to the cold, but Jason hadn’t yet reached a point where he was comfortable in that form. Finally he’d wrangled his cold muscles into order and was standing.
Danny thrust the sword hilt into Jason’s right hand and blessedly held on as the power surged into him from the sword, a tsunami of power racing into his core. His knees threatened to buckle, but Danny squeezed harder and Jason forced his legs straight. The power, Danny’s power, felt exhilarating. There was pain too as his still healing core was forced to grow to accept it, but most of all it felt like flying, like stars swirling above, and that delighted swoop in his stomach.
Finally, after it felt like his core had grown three sizes and he would simply burst if he received any more power it stopped. Dazed Jason looked from his hand, to Danny’s hand still holding on. Then his gaze moved to Danny’s face and it was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over him.
“I hope you’re happy,” Danny spat lowly only for their ears, then let go, leaving the ice blade in Jason’s hand; he may as well have left it stabbed through his heart. 
The silence turned into a cheer around them that roared like useless noise in Jason’s ears. None of that mattered, only Danny, who turned his back on Jason and left.
Inside he screamed, howled like the winds he knew his new blade - Stormbringer, it whispered to him - would create, if only he let it. Jason sheathed the sword, ending the temptation. He wanted to go after Danny, but he had been surrounded by well-wishing ghosts, only some he recognized. He wanted to go after Danny, but he had never seen him so angry, maybe it was better to let leave him alone for now. He let the ghosts move him to the party, but he wasn’t quite there.
A year ago was the first time Jason noticed something more than usual was wrong with him. He tired easily. Sleeping didn’t replenish his strength. The rage that had been a constant companion was down to embers - something he’d thought was the result of bettering the relationship with his family, but apparently rage had been the fire that had kept him going and now- then- he’d been dying. 
It had been a slow steady decline. He tired more easily. His aches and bruises healed slower, and then it seemed not at all. It had taken two months from Jason realizing until he’d told Alfred as the first one, but by then they’d all suspected something was up anyways.
Nearly six months ago Jason had been bedridden, moved to the mansion for what they feared were his last days. 
That is when Danny - Phantom then - had come, like a light in the encroaching darkness. Jason could still vividly feel his ghostly fingers on his cheeks, his forehead resting against his as he seemed to breathe life back into him - or rather as he would later learn afterlife, ghost energy, ectoplasm. 
Jason had been properly awake and free of pain for the first time in months. 
Danny’s theory was that Jason had been a slowly forming halfa, when the League had gotten their hands on him. Jason would have probably eventually come back to awareness if just left on his own, though it may have taken years. Of course, nobody had known that, and Jason’s dip in the Lazarus Waters had forcibly brought his brain back online. 
Lazarus Water, however, was antithesis to ectoplasm. It healed only the living. It had only worked because his body had been enough alive due to the strangeness that governed halfa formations, but it had stunted his core formation - poisoned it. And so when the life force given to him by Lazarus had burned out, there had been nothing to stop Jason’s slow decay, his Ending - until Danny, who had been passing through Gotham had sensed him.
There had been a lot of chaos. His family had thought for a terrible moment that Phantom clad in his cloak seemingly weaved of the night sky itself had been Death themself come to claim him. And in a way he was, though it would only be later they learned he was the Ghost King. 
He had introduced himself, only after saving Jason, as Phantom, merely a passing spirit. Bat paranoia momentarily shelved due to Jason’s recovery, had meant fewer questions than would have normally been asked. Yes, Jason would recover now. No, he did not need anything in return. 
And then he’d gone.
A week later Jason was well enough to go home to his own apartment, cleaned by Alfred for his return, because it had been in a sorry state when he left. Finally alone, that was when Phantom had appeared again. That was when Phantom introduced himself as Danny, to just Jason, because they were the same. That was when Danny explained his theory, because he had spent the week doing research.
He could have just left, but Jason would be developing powers now. Danny wanted to be sure Jason had the support he’d never had. So, he wanted to tell him he was sticking around Gotham in case he needed him. 
And boy, had Jason needed him when he got stuck having fallen halfway through the floor a week later. Luckily Jason had had his phone in hand when it had happened and Danny was only a call away. 
It would be another month until Jason discovered that by sticking around Gotham it meant human Danny was squatting in a damp, moldy, half collapsed building slated for demolition and Jason had dragged him back to his own apartment - no matter Danny’s protests that the vibes were right for a ghost and that he couldn’t get sick anyways.
But despite his protests Danny hadn’t left. 
It was easier like that, Danny was close when he had mishaps and besides he was good company, especially because he’d been benched due to rapidly developing powers and didn’t have the outlet of patrols. 
It was easier, despite how it meant Danny had to be reintroduced to the rest of the family. Something that Jason thought went rather well, but Danny lamented as an unmitigated disaster. 
Two months ago, Danny had started to look worried. 
One month ago Danny had explained he would have to leave soon. Jason would be okay, he had his basic powers under control. He might still develop more, but since he had a feel for his core now, he’d likely master them easily enough. 
Danny would visit of course. He hoped Jason would like him to visit. 
Jason had prodded and prodded until Danny admitted to being the Ghost King. That his Knight was sick due to having broken his oath to the previous king. He had released him from the oath, but the only reason he was still existing at all was due to him being the spirit of Halloween. 
He was without a Knight and that was not a situation that could continue. For the stability of the Infinite Realms and himself he had to have a Knight. He had to leave to oversee the challenges the candidates had to overcome. 
Jason had asked to come along, to see the Infinite Realms he also belonged to. Danny had been unable to argue that point. He had even despite his worry, given Jason a small excited smile telling him he looked forward to showing him. 
Jason had felt a stab of guilt, because his real reason was to enter the challenges. 
Jason had known Danny would be angry, but he had never imagined he’d be that angry. The words “I hope you’re happy” spat at him like acid, echoed in his mind again and again.
A whispy hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present. He’d mostly been left alone by the partying ghosts at this point. He around turned to see the translucent shadowy form of Halloween. 
It was hard to believe this had once been the Fright Knight depicted in paintings and tapestries in the castle. He was barely solid for short bursts that pulled his shadows together only to drift apart again slowly. Only his green eyes shone with any sort of vitality. 
“You did well,” his voice was weak like a call from a distance instead of right next to his ear. 
Jason didn’t know whether to laugh or cry right then, his throat made some sort of half choked noise without his permission. “Danny doesn’t think so.”
“You were the strongest candidate, especially suited to His Majesty… because you are both Halfa…” 
Jason could practically see the way Halloween’s energy waned as he struggled to speak. He tried to tell him he didn’t have to say anymore, but the former Knight forged on.
“He will see…. 
In time…”
Jason grabbed for him reflexively as he faded from view. For just a moment, Jason thought he’d Ended, just like Jason had nearly Ended half a year ago. His breath stuck panicked in his throat, until he realized he could still feel Halloween’s presence. 
Slowly and carefully he let out his burning breath. Halloween had merely exhausted himself.
-
The following week was torture. Danny didn’t lose his cold fury for even a moment, as Jason followed him on his official duties: meetings and introductions of Jason as Red Knight to the leaders of the Realms, as well as the more mundane territory disputes and requests spanning from help with the more eldritch elements of the Realms to approval of taking a date to the living realms Danny apparently dealt with, now and again, that had been put off when Danny had been in the living realm. 
He was quite literally giving Jason the cold shoulder. The Realms were noticeably colder than they had been when they had arrived together. The Far Frozen seemed to be the only place that wasn’t affected, but then that had already been frigid. The ghosts they met with were unnerved by Danny’s mood, even though he was fair as ever. From what Ember had told him with an amused smirk, they usually argued more with Danny, so at least something good had come out of Danny’s anger with him. 
Every day of this Jason’s frustration grew. How were they supposed to resolve things when Danny would not even look at him! It was like the Danny he knew had been locked behind a glacier and every day it became more and more tempting to try and punch his way through the barrier.
It came to a head in a hallway. They had spent a very long day in a meeting with a delegation from some far off kingdom that had spent something like five years to even get here to greet the new Ghost King. Jason was tired from standing all day, and Danny stopping in the hallway, barely turning his head to say “you may leave”, was the last drop.
“What is the matter with you!” Jason snapped.
“Me?” Danny asked dangerously, the air itself rippled around him, but Jason had had enough, he was prepared to dig his grave as deep as it needed to go.
“Yes you, what the Hell crawled up your ass?”
Danny turned in the air and for the first time his anger was hot. He poked Jason in his chest forcing him to take a step back. If Jason had been in ghost form, maybe he could have resisted.
“I take you here on your request to see the Realms, and you lied to me. You enter the challenges. You, who couldn’t even free yourself from the floor a few months ago, who didn’t even know you were a ghost! You, who are still not comfortable enough to stay in your ghost form for any length of time! You could have Ended.”
Jason’s momentary guilt was burned up by the attacks on his faillings. 
“But I didn’t. I won. Even in my weak human form.”
Danny scoffed. “What do you want Jason? A gold star for binding yourself to me for eternity? You didn’t even talk to me!”
“You wouldn’t have let me!”
“Of course I wouldn’t. I’ve had a decade to come to terms with eternity, you’ve had not even six months!”
“Six months, a decade, I don’t see how it matters. You needed a Knight!”
“It didn’t have to be you!”
“You would have settled for one of those two bit ghosts?”
“They would have been serviceable!”
Fury and jealousy rose so fast and ugly in his chest Jason expected to see green - of course no green came, because Danny had rid him of every last speck of Lazarus influence when he’d healed him. Danny, who had shown him a whole new world, who’d made him feel like- His thoughts staggered, unwilling to go there. Danny was telling him he’d rather have some low rate poltergeists, that was the important part.
“You would pick them over me!”
“Kneel, Jason!” Danny’s voice thundered and Jason’s knees promptly hit the floor sending a jolt of pain all the way up his spine. Disoriented, it took him a moment to understand, a moment for the horror to settle in. 
His body had moved on its own. “Do you get it now, what it means that my word is law?” Danny snarled and held the anger for all of three more seconds. Then, his face crumbled and he fell to his own knees in front of Jason. His hands clenched into fists in his lap as he looked up at Jason. Jason was shocked to see tears in his eyes. 
“Do you understand now?” Danny pleaded, “Do you understand what you’ve pledged to me for eternity?”
“Danny…” Finally, Jason understood why Danny was so upset. 
“I love you Jason,” Danny confessed hoarsely, voice barely more than a whisper, “I wanted you by my side, not three steps behind.”
Jason followed the tears down Danny’s cheek until they made small splashes as they landed on his clenched fists. 
“Danny,” Jason repeated and drew him into his arms. Danny shuddered through a sob and desperately held on to him in return. 
“Why did it have to be you?” 
Jason didn’t have any arguments anymore, he was left only with the simple truth. He couldn’t abide anyone else as Danny’s Knight-
“Because I love you.”
Danny only cried harder at that. The entire castle shook and rolled with his grief. Jason couldn’t do anything but hold him. Nothing he could say could change the past. 
Nothing could change the fact that he would do it again.  
He buried his face in Danny’s soft hair to hide his own tears. It was the truth. No one else was good enough. Maybe if there had been more time, but there hadn’t. Danny had already spent a decade with a not-properly pledged Knight, who was weakened from betraying the old King. They had already pushed the choosing as far as they could waiting for Danny to grow into his own role. Halloween had explained this to Jason. “Why-” Jason stopped for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts into something sensible, “why does this have to stop us?” Danny drew back, looking a Jason in disbelief with his red-rimmed eyes. 
“I hold all the power, that’s a terrible basis for a relationship!”
Jason reached out, cupping Danny’s cheek. He closed his eyes and he couldn’t help but lean into it.
“You wouldn’t misuse that power - I trust you.” Jason didn’t trust easily, but Danny had had the power all throughout the time they’d known each other. Even if it hadn’t been as clear. Even if it hadn’t been as literal as now, he’d always been careful of making sure Jason had a choice, he’d been homeless in Gotham to stick around just in case Jason wanted his help. Jason trusted him.
“I don’t trust me,” Danny said quietly and his usually glowing green eyes were matte and lifeless as he reopened them to look at Jason. “Eternity is a very long time, Jason. People change.”
Jason growled. He hated seeing Danny so listless, so defeated. As if him becoming a tyrant was a certain path. He took Danny’s face into both his hands and pressed his forehead to his in a mirror of what Danny had done so many months ago. If only Jason could inject a bit of life back to him, but that wasn’t Danny problem. Danny problem was that Jason was bound to obey him through his pledge. His pledge!
“Swear to me-“ What? He couldn’t swear not to ever give Jason an order, he was his Knight he would serve his King, he gained power from serving him. There had to be something else. Something that would let Jason help and not just follow blindly…
“Swear never to silence me, swear you will at least listen and consider and-“ Jason smiled “I will tell you when you are being an idiot.”
Danny sputtered drawing back Jason’s hands to hold them instead, but there was light back in him as he looked at Jason bemused.
“This doesn’t solve the core problem.”
“No. But I like to think it helps.”
Danny huffed. Then looking at Jason intently for any indication of discomfort he lifted Jason’s right knuckles to his lips. A delighted shudder ran up Jason’s arm leaving his hairs standing on end.
“I think it’s supposed to be the other way around,” Jason commented mouth dry as sand.
Danny ignored his inane comment and just kept holding Jason’s eyes as he spoke, “I swear to never silence you.” Then he lifted up the left hand and kissed those knuckles too. “I swear I will at least listen to and consider your words.”
The promise settled like a weighted blanked around them. It was nothing like the pledge in the throne room, which was power and chains, even if Jason hadn’t recognized the chains at the time, this was a comfort. 
They had a long way to go still, but at least Danny was the Danny he knew now instead of the furious king. They had time, eternity in fact to work out things. 
Jason tried to think of that as a good thing.
-
I feel I must apologize for the ending, it's just the mood this fic wanted. But I hope you enjoyed it anyways!
If it helps I do imagine them happy eventually, though it takes Danny a very very long time to ever give words to things he wants in the context of the two of them.
336 notes · View notes
dotster001 · 1 year
Text
True End
Previous Chapter: One Two Three Choose Another Ending
"So, the end has arrived."
Grim pushed his lens-less glasses down his nose and stared at Silver and Lilia, both of whom were sitting on the other side of a desk.
"I'll be honest, neither of you two is the richest here. That title belongs to Malleus, then Leona, respectively. But Malleus will prioritize his country over me, I mean Y/N, and Leona, well let's face it, it's only a matter of time before he disgraces himself and is off the kingdom's payroll."
Grim waved around a sheet of paper.
"Which puts both of you in third place. Oddly enough, your finance situation is nearly identical. So it comes down to who I think would be a better dad. I know this will come as a shock to you both, but Y/N isn't actually my henchhuman. They're my parent."
Lilia gasped in mock shock as Silver just stared.
"Anyway, Silver you have been a stick in the mud for this entire process, and Lilia is known for his lighthearted hijinks, so I'm gonna have to say Lilia would be the easier dad to deal with."
Both Lilia and Silver had images of Lilia leaving Silver and Sebek alone in the woods flash through their minds.
"Lilia, congratulations, You can expect a call in 3-5 business days about when to begin your new life as Y/N's husband."
Silver stared at his father, his eyes a mixture of disapproval and disappointment.
Lilia heaved a dramatic sigh, before turning to his son.
"Go to them."
"Huh?"
"Go claim their heart. It's always been yours."
Silver nodded gratefully and left the room in a rush.
"What's all that about?" Grim huffed.
"Sore loser, I guess," Lilia said with a laugh.
….
Grim had told you he had something to do, and that he'd be right back. But in the time since he'd left, it started pouring. Which meant he'd probably stay the night in whatever dorm was closest to him.
So, you'd settled in for a quiet night reading on the couch, the rain as ambience, when you heard a knock on the door.
Setting your book aside, you opened the door to a soaking wet Silver standing on your porch.
You opened your mouth to ask him if he wanted a towel or something, but he hurriedly interrupted.
"I'm in love with you. I always have been."
Your jaw dropped, but he was undeterred as he interlaced your right hand with his left.
"I know I'm only a knight. I'm not a king, or an heir, or a thriving entrepreneur, but I'm hoping I can make up for that by pledging myself to your  service. Even if you don't love me, as long as I can serve you, I-"
You grabbed his face and kissed him, not caring about how the water on his body was seeping onto your own, only caring about returning his feelings.
"I love you too," you said with a disbelieving laugh, after your faces parted.
His eyes widened, and his lips were back on yours, both of you too madly in love to notice the rain ceasing and the sun setting in beautiful auroral shades behind you.
The End
2K notes · View notes
sex-storytime · 4 months
Text
Rachel's Cherry
The first few months of college were a blur of new experiences, friends, and concerns. Here I was just an eighteen year old virgin intent on keeping my purity until the right person came along. But as months passed I not only saw more sexual sights and things done at parties and in dorm rooms but on the lawns of the campus and at pledging events. I became more and more distracted and increasingly curious about my sexual thoughts that just wouldn't go away. In fact that's about all I could think about.
As a virgin I still feared the experience and wondered constantly what it would be like the first time, how would it feel, would it hurt, would I enjoy it? And most importantly, would I be able to have an orgasm. Then there was a question of whether or not I should let the guy cum inside me. What would that feel like when he did? And lastly birth control, which should I use?
I had been experimenting with masturbation for quite a while now so that I could feel the pleasure, but not having to worry about all the risks so deeply instilled in me from my parents and others. But my eyes and brain both began to wander, whenever I would notice a good-looking guy in my classes. And, I would wonder how big his cock was when it was hard and how he was in bed. Then I would think they were just out to get laid like my mom always told me they were. Or, I would think that just maybe there should be more to the first time I gave my cherry than have a young stud taking his pleasure, and then brag to his friends that he had fucked a virgin. Little did I know just how the course of my life would change and lead me into a totally new and surprising erotic direction.
I met Jeff at the part time job I took in order to earn some money to pay for school. Actually he was my mentor while I was an intern at his company. The college thinks that life experiences are just as important as standard book knowledge. Therefore, each student completes an internship no matter what his or her major may be.
Jeff was friendly as well as business like from the start, and showed me quite a few things about the job I was to perform. He had this nature about him and I didn't feel the usual shyness when talking with new people that I usually had. He was thirty-five, newly single, with brown hair streaked with gray and deep blue eyes that sparkled when he smiled. He also has an impressive athletic build with wide shoulders, which tapered to a narrow waist and well defined yet smooth stomach. We worked together a few days a week and the occasional weekend during the busy months. I looked forward to spending my time with him.
I definitely had a crush on him. I let my eyes linger on him… I flirted with him neievely and felt embarrassed with myself after each lost opportunity. My blossoming sexual mind began to visualise touching his body and being held in his tender embrace. It was the highlight of my week when I found that we would be working alone, just the two of us. Just he and I alone in the big office most of the time right next to each other. I started to cherish our days together and felt I could talk with him honestly and seriously about anything. Besides helping me learn the world of finance he was starting to seem like an old friend who I could really open up to about anything. And I did. I told him all about my life and… my non-existent sex life… and that I was a virgin.
He told me about his past, his love life, his ex… but he never once made any moves on me. He respected me. He was my teacher and I was his student… that was how our relationship was supposed to be. On Fridays we decided to go out for something to eat since work ended later than usual. The cafeteria had long since closed and this was a much better alternative than a frozen dinner from the microwave in my dorm. We both went home to shower, and change. In the shower I began to think about Jeff and couldn't help but fantasise about his cock as I rubbed my pussy picturing holding me tight making love to me.
I smiled and decided that I would shave my pussy. My roommate had told me shaving makes oral sex from a man's tongue feel so much better. Not that I felt I would get any oral sex from Jeff! He had made his position quite clear… but a girl can dream. Once I had a smooth pussy, I dressed thinking that later I would come home and get myself off while I dreamed of Jeff's tongue on my clit.
After I finished shaving I dried off and dressed in white lace bra and bikini panties. I put on my shortest skirt, which accentuated the gentle curves of my hips and revealed my legs emerging from a little higher than mid thigh. I pulled my tight tank top over my head to show my 32B breasts pressing hard against the material. I blushed as I saw my nipples against the material and I imagined Jeff's hands and mouth cupping, licking and caressing each one. With a sigh I came back to reality and realised my panties had become damp with my wetness.
"What am I thinking, Jeff is older and probably doesn't even think of me other than as an intern at work or a young friend. But I bet unlike the one track minds of guys my age, he must really know how to please a woman before fucking her."
I smiled and thought of his blue eyes looking passionately into his he made love to my body before he fucked me long and hard. A man like him carried just as much about a woman's orgasm as his own. I quickly finished getting ready and tried to push the sexual thoughts from my mind. I headed to the restaurant to meet up with him, and pretended that this was going to be our first real date.
I was late to the restaurant and saw Jef, waiting patiently outside. He smiled when he saw me. I found myself running towards him and he gathered me in his embrace. I gazed up at his handsome face, his beautiful blue eyes, his lips, god, his full soft lips, and he rested his hand on my waist. Our look, his hand, I felt myself filling with adrenalin, felt the sudden simmer of arousal. He sort of moved to me, but didn't quite, so, I was the one, I moved my head to his and leaned in and we kissed. It was lovely, just amazing. He tasted different to the other boys, but nice. We were so soft, so gently, our lips barely touching, the tip of his soft tongue touching mine. And then I felt his hand on my ass, gently touching me there, cupping me through my skirt.
I felt my small nipple become stiff, and sensed myself become wet between my legs. I am not sure I had felt this before, in this context, he kissed me, his hand was on my ass, so soft, and I felt a sudden dampness in my vagina. It was so arousing, to feel this, to feel my young body reacting. I rested my hand on his thigh, I didn't know quite what to do, I mean, I knew what I could do, I didn't know quite how far I wanted to take this, but, well, I moved my hand upward, up along his firm thigh, and I put my hand on his cass as I pressed myself into him…, and felt his penis, through his jeans… it felt hard.
"You look beautiful tonight, Rachel," he said, as his gaze traveled from my head to my feet and back up again lingering for just for a moment on my hips and the curves of my breasts. He guided me into the restaurant, placing a gentle touch of his hand to the small of my back. He even pulled the chair out for me! As we waited for our food to arrive we made small talk about work and my classes.
I noticed him looking at me as if he wanted to say something. "What is it?" I asked, feeling for the first time a hint of shyness.
"Rachel, I know you told me you are a virgin but I was wondering… Are you looking for… a relationship?”
“Are you?” I blurted out, flustered.
“Yes…”
“I have spent the last few months… trying to get your attention.”
“I noticed.” He seemed embarrassed. “You are so young… sexy… why me?”
“Because you are my dream guy I suppose. You are the man I have been dreaming of since I became a teenager… a sweet prince… older… wiser…”
“You-you like that?” He stumbled.
“Oh yes… I guess I am attracted to older men.” I replied honestly.
There was a few minutes of silence while we ate our food. I could almost see the gears of his mind working, trying to find the right words. This was my opportunity.
“I want you Jeff, and I know you want me.”
“You do… I do?”
“That kiss was more than just a kiss between friends… and… I felt how hard you were when we hugged…” 
“But how can we make this work, I mean-”
“I want you. I want to be with you. Why don’t you take me home tonight?” I bravely said and waited for his response. 
“But you’re a virgin!” Jeff whispered.
“And tomorrow I wont be.” I really was going to go through with this. I never felt so scared.
“Do you want to lose your virginity… to me? Tonight?"
I blushed blood red and nodded. I smiled. He miled. He bent forward and whispered, as his breath became warm in my ear "Do you know what you have been doing to me these weeks we have been working together? I mean the way you walk and press your body against my arm when we are studying something, or the way you sit and cross and recross your legs? Do you know you have been driving me crazy?"
I was shocked and showed it. I tried to speak but finally just shook my head no.
He held my hand and moved even closer to my face and ear. As he talked his voice gave me chills. I shivered from it. He smiled and took both of my hands and held them tight and said: "Well then I'll have to tell you… I want you too. You’re so pretty and tonight you just look… incredible. Yes, you turned me on. My cock is hard and swollen with blood with a big purple head everyday when you leave work, Rachel.”
“Then take me to your bed… make love to me, Jeff?”
“I want to make love to you. I mean I want to be your first! I want us to go all the way tonight. yes, come back to my place tonight, don't go back home alone. Come home with me Rachel and let me make love to you, let me teach you and give you the pleasure of sex, complete sex."
I must have been three shades of red now and started to actually shake inside because I wanted him too. Only I didn't know how bad he wanted me. He added as he captured the tip of my ear between his teeth and bit gently: "This will change thins between us… are you ready for that? Do you really want me to be the one who takes your virginity?”
“Yes… show you how great sex can be."
His eyes were now looking directly into mine. He came closer and lightly kissed me. My hands trembled as I tensed under his first seduction. He reached under the table and touched my smooth upper thigh just at the edge of my skirt. As he continued to look deeply into my eyes. I sat there looking at his handsome face and not saying anything. I felt his hand move up under the hem of my skirt and slide down between my thighs. He was stroking my right inner leg making me hotter and full of sexual need. No, I was burning up inside. Luckily we were seated in a secluded corner of the restaurant because he began to move his hand slowly higher still up my leg. I didn't stop him or say a word.
His eyes twinkled devilishly as he looked into my eyes and as he kissed me again I felt his tongue slip into my mouth and his hand touching the corner of my panty leg no more than an inch from my pussy. I squeezed my legs together, capturing his hand on the smoothness of the upper end of my inner thigh. When he covered my panty, cupping my pussy, my first reaction was to moan but then I remembered and said to myself: "My god if he touches my naked pussy he'll know I shaved myself for him!" And suddenly, I desperately wanted him to touch me there.
I looked away from him, to the guy next to me as we ate, when I felt his hand on my knee. I stopped breathing for a second. I didn't look at you or acknowledge your touch but secretly willed you to continue. He must have read my mind because he gently slid his fingers over my mound. My breathing quickened but I still kept my head turned to my left. His fingers fanned out and began to creep toward my pantie clad slit. I clear my throat and shyly looked into his amazing eyes. His lust was burning there.
I unthinkingly parted my legs for him, and hisfingers found the elastic of my panties. My clit was so swollen now, and I ached for his touch, but we were sitting at a large table, from the right angle we could be seen. I was dying to release the moans and screams I was holding back, and he continued to tease me under the table, silently and yet urgently. Oh god, what was I going to do?
His talented finger finger slips inside my panties… but goes no further as I squirmed and wiggled as gently as I could. Damn him for teasing me like this - but oh don't stop!
No one noticed us - amazing since I felt like I was wearing a big sign that sid 'fuck me now'. I was extremely horny for him, but it would be another couple of hours or so before we could be alone. Jeff knew exactly what to do, but he held back because we were right in the middle of the dinner.
"Rachel, are you alright?" 
My voice was nowhere to be found. My throat was dry and I was dying to be fucked; but I was also too afraid to speak; Jeff knew what I wanted and needed.
As I was thinking it, Jeff ran a hand under my panty elastic and over my freshly shaven pussy. As his fingers went under my panties and over my bald pussy he smiled at me and said: "Oh my God, Rachel! A virgin who shaves! I like it and I want to see it."
I jumped when his fingers located my slit and I reached for his hand. I moaned the word: "No. No Jeff, not here. Not in the restaurant please! Wait until we get in your car?"
As I held his hand on my pussy, for some reason I didn't move it. I simply held it against my wet cunt and pressed slightly. Then he whispered, "I can’t wait… Open you legs wider for me Rachel. Open them."
I don't know why I did but I did. I opened my thighs wide and Jeff began to stroke up and down my smooth shaved pussy. I knew he could feel my wetness but I didn't care, I let him! To disguise our closeness I leaned into him and kissed him. I kept my thighs open and held his hand directly on my pussy as my tongue danced at his lips and he stroked me so softly and gently. The first person other than myself to ever touch me there was now doing it in a crowded restaurant and I loved it. I moaned softly as I sucked on his tongue and he made love to my virgin pussy.
As I closed my eyes I moaned his name. He kissed me a little harder as he rubbed three of his fingers up and down my entire wet slit. Then as I sighed I felt one of his fingers move into the entrance of my hole. As it entered my hole slowly, I didn't say no this time. I opened my thighs wider still. I moaned again. He had his entire hand now under the smooth fabric of my bikini panties; thighs spread wide open and letting him caress the smooth skin and hole between my legs.
As Jeff separated the folds of my pussy lips his finger began to enter my virgin pussy hole I just tried to speak, but only sighed the word, "Oh Jeff! Oh fuck your hand feels like magic! Oh fuck Jeff I am going to cum!" But, I didn't stop him!
I had to fight to stifle a moan as he entered me slowly but steady with that one finger. As he pushed and pumped it into me I pushed against it. Then he followed the first finger with another one. It felt so big going in. I opened my legs wider yet and moaned his name again. He put his arm around me and pulled me closer to him. As we kissed and let our tongues fight; Jeff continued to drive me crazy with his two fingers inside my pussy as he made love to it under the table. My brain was racing! "Was this really happening?" I thought as my mind raced and his hand and fingers explored deeper and deeper inside me. I could feel him bumping up against my hem.
"Jeff" I gasped as he continued exploring my pussy and pushing deeper into my hole. "Jeff, I'm a virgin. I wasn't kidding!" I whispered.
"I know, and if you will relax a little and let me, Rachel, I plan on making you a little less virginal after tonight. I can show you what sex is all about. How it can feel so good when you reach a mind-blowing orgasm from someone who really wants to guide you into the world of intercourse and have it be enjoyable and pleasant. Oh Rachel, it feels so much better when you have an orgasm from someone else giving it to you. I'll be gentle and loving and make you enjoy it."
I smiled and said, "I know Jeff, but I'm so scared."
He told me about using his tongue and his fingers and his hands and finally his cock. He whispered in my ear how I would go wild when he licked my pussy. He smiled and said that it would be even better since I had shaved down there.
I said, " Oh Jeff it's not that I don't want to be with you, it's that I'm frightened. Frightened it will hurt me so bad. Well… That's what I’ve heard… about a girl's first time."
Jeff continued to tell me, "I will also show you how to give a man the pleasure he needs before I finally take that barrier away and show you what it's like to have a man's cock buried deep inside of you."
He explained seductively in my ear about the thrill of oral sex and what it would do to me as my body felt the stirrings of passion and lust from someone else touching it for the first time. "I want to… but I'm scared Jeff." I said as I trembled and tears welled up in my eyes.
"You might be scared but your body gives you away Rachel. It tells me you want to continue," he said as his fingers were brought out of my panties first to let me see the wetness, my wetness. And, secondly he showed me his fingers as he put them to his mouth and licked them clean. I heard him moan this time.
"We will do this together. Take small steps. I’m not some young guy desperate for a conquest… I will be gentle, loving and easy. I will pleasure you, on your terms. I will go down on you, Rachel… have you enjoy oral sex. Then we will only proceed when you tell me you are ready," he said as he wiped a tear tenderly off my cheek and kissed me again.
“Thank you, Jeff. That’s what I need… your experience… your love.”
"Do you know what I mean when I say I will lick and suck your pussy first so you will be very wet and very, very aroused, aroused enough to accept me?" he finished as he took my hands in his and squeezed them.
I said: "I . . . I think so, Jeff. But I don't know."
He said: "Would you like to come home with me now and try?"
I said: "Yes." I don't know why I said yes. Maybe it was my time and he was the one. Maybe it was the touch of this man. Maybe it was my growing need. It was a need that seemed to get worse every day. But whatever the reason, I said yes. And we sat looking at each other holding hands.
The waiter soon came by and he told the man to package it up since we both had to leave. We both had other things on our minds as Jeff held his arm around my body as we walked to his car. He opened the door for me and I slid in. His eyes watched my legs open a little as I got in. He shut the door and soon after we were pulling into the complex where he lived. We held each other as we walked to his door. I told him again that I was so scared. I knew he could feel me shaking with it.
Immediately upon entering and locking the door Jeff pulled me to him and kissed me hard, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. I accepted it and sucked on it as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. He held me as I bent my back pressing against him. My tongue began exploring and tasting the inside of his mouth and then his entered mine. He asked me, "Are you glad you came?"
I shook my head yes. He said, "Then tell me. Tell me how you feel."
I tried to look him in the eye but didn't make it. I told him, "I'm glad I'm here with you, it's very exciting, but I'm also very scared.”
He smiled and said, "I'm very glad you're here too, Rachel. Please don't be scared. I'm going to be very gentle with you. And I promise you will love everything we do starting with the feeling of oral sex and everything else that goes with it. But first you should get familiar with a man’s body and let me get acquainted with yours. OK?"
I smiled and nodded. Jeff slowly began running his hands all over my body as he began removing pieces of my clothing. He told me if I had any questions I should ask him and I should also explore his body with my hands and eyes. I didn't stop him but watched his fingers first unbutton my blouse. As it slid it off my shoulders as we both watched it fall to the floor. He kissed me again and after kissing down my neck and into my cleavage he told me: "Rachel! You are so beautiful! You look stunning."
His hands reached up and cupped my breasts for only a moment before his mouth came down and sucked my nipple on the outside of my bra. I held his head with my hands holding his mouth over one of my breasts. I sighed and said, "Oh Jeff!"
I stood before the man I had chosen in just my bra and skirt. Jeff smiled at me as his eyes held my eyes. I felt him run his hands down my sides and then up under my skirt over each of my thighs all the way to the top of my panties. He had my skirt up to my panties and was teasing me a little as his hands swept over my vulva and stomach up under my skirt. I jumped and reached for his hand. He moved his hands off my pussy and I started to relax. Then we both heard the snap and zipper being undone on my skirt. He looked at me and said, "Rachel, do you want to take this off?" 
I said, "Yes, yes I think so Jeff.
He said, "No Rachel, yes or no. Do you want me to take your skirt off?"
I said, "Yes I want you to take off my clothes," and as he pushed it down over my hips I wiggled out of the short tight skirt. When it hit the floor, he held my hand as I stepped out of it. As he undressed me, I now stood there not moving just watching him as he stepped back and looked at my body. I was standing before him now in only my bra and tiny bikini panties.
"Wow Rachel, your body is so beautiful and very sexy. I never realised how beautiful it was… you hid this so well why we worked. You are unbelievably lovely… gorgeous…" Jeff almost moaned the words as he pulled me to him and again rubbed my body against his as held me tight.
I felt the bulge of his cock hard in his pants against my naked thigh as we pressed together. He pressed his hips against me and began to rotate his bulge against my pussy. He smiled down at me and kissed my neck as he whispered in my ear, "Now it's your turn. Take my clothes off. Unzip me and release my cock for me Rachel. I'm getting so hard it hurts. Take it out and hold it, touch it, look at it, see what you have been doing to me all these weeks!"
I hesitated only for a moment. But, he took my hand and placed it on the outside of his trousers. I could feel his cock jumping and throbbing. He placed my other hand on his zipper and told me, "Take it out for me Rachel please? Show me you want this, don’t be scared to follow your instincts."
I looked down at his bulge and slowly unzipped his fly. He told me in a whisper: "Now take it out Rachel and feel it, look at it. See for yourself how hard it is. You should look at it and know about it. I will tell you all about my cock and explain what everything is once you release it. Take it out now Rachel and let me show you how hard I am for you…"
I sighed deeply and as my hands shook with excitement, I reached into his pants and took out his penis. It was beautiful! I looked so hard and thick and long. It throbbed in my hand like it was beating. In fact it was the first erect male cock I had ever seen in the flesh. As I unbelted his trousers and they opened more, it emerged completely from his boxers. I could feel its heat and its hardness with the skin around the hardness so soft. As I took the shaft in my hand I began to stroke it and squeeze it listening to him tell me what to do. I looked up at his face and smiled as he told me, "See it won't bite you. But, do you see how hard it is Rachel? You make it that way. When I see you, and stand next to you and we brush against each other while we work, I get hard like this for you everyday. Rachel… you make me so horny."
I caressed every inch of his 7-inch cock and the large set of balls that hung under it. Teasing the head with my nails rubbing gently across it and under the fat mushroom cock head, I pumping the shaft making him moan. Then my hands moving down the shaft as I worked on my first very, very hard cock doing everything Jeff told me to do. When a drop of pre-cum exited the hole in the cock head, Jeff told me all about it and how it got there. He told me to take my finger and wipe it off and then taste it. I did and it wasn't nasty like I was sure it would be. In fact it had almost not taste, maybe a little sweet. After a few minutes, Jeff said, "Oh fuck, Rachel that feels so good… But if we don't stop I'm going to cum and I don't want to, not yet, not like this anyway. There will be time for that in a little while. I didn't want to orgasm yet, I want you to have a few before you give me my own."
He was thinking of giving me several orgasms? I had waited so long for this! He gently pushed me back and my knees hit the edge of the large bed. As I fell back he stripped off the rest of his clothes and moved up next to me and began to kiss my neck and shoulders.
I watched as his fingers moved to my bra and unhooked the front clasp. I was going to try to cover myself, but didn't. He slowly pulled it open and then off my arms. He removed it completely and freeing my breasts. Then he stopped to look at them. I felt funny letting him see them but he kissed me and as his hand cupped one he said, "Oh Rachel, your tits are perfect."
I know I don't have huge breasts but I think they are adequate. They sit up high and they're firm with long pink nipples. Jeff smiled as he saw my nipples sticking out hard already. He used his finger to flick over them making them jump and bounce like a rubber band when he released them. With one of his hands he softly cupped a breast and squeezed it while his mouth and tongue moved over the other one and worked on it. He pushed the two together so that he could lick and suck both nipples at the same time. He licked up between my cleavage and kissed me again as his hands worked on my tits.
I kissed him and as he told me, "I can't believe how beautiful you are Rachel… you don’t need to do this… with me… if you are still a virgin. I already feel like a very lucky man being here with you tonight. You make me so hot and so hard!"
He then moved back down between my tits and again made love to my breasts for a long time. As I ran my hands through his hair and across his back I told him, "This is further than I have ever gone before Jeff. I want to be here… with you. Please be gentle with me."
He looked up at me and said, "If you’re sure?”
I nodded as he lavished his attention on my little titties.
“I will make your first time a good one. I’m honoured."
Fuck I loved it what his mouth was doing. His wonderful mouth was sucking and licking and sucking and licking all over my tits and nipples. Over and over again he sucked them making my nipples as hard as small rocks. He even bit them gently. I just laid back and moaned and moaned and moaned.
He looked up into my eyes and said, "Are you ready, Rachel?"
I softly said the word, "Yes…"
As I was saying it, he was moving his lips down my body and kissed my stomach and around the bottom of my breasts. He licked under them making me wiggle. "That tickles", I told him.
He licked around my stomach and into the belly button hole. I giggled again as I let my hands slide down still holding his head gently.
Further down he kissed. My body was moving from the feeling of his lips and tongue on it. Then he licked over the top of my bikini panties. As I felt him hooking two fingers in the waistband on each side of them, he started pulling them down my hips. He said, "Lift Rachel, lift up so I can get these off."
Now I was starting to worry again. My mom had always told me that once a lady lets a man take off her panties, she has no more defenses. She has more or less decided to give herself to the man taking them off. Why I did, I don't know for sure, but when I heard him tell me to lift, I did.
I lifted my ass up about a foot off the bed so he could remove my panties. They were very wet between my legs and stuck a little against my pussy. I looked at him and started trembling like a newborn kitten as he removed the panty off of each leg. He kissed each of them as he removed the panty off each of my feet. Then he looked directly at me as he put my panties to his face and inhaled deeply. He moaned as he dropped the panties on the bed. Jeff then came up and kissed me as I felt his hands move my legs apart. He said, "Now little one, don't be scared. It will be OK Rachel, I promise. You will love this I guarantee it. Now open your legs wide for me. OK?"
As I watched him I separated my legs and he said, "Hmmm a virgin with a shaved pussy! You look so beautiful Rachel. So lovely! You look good enough to eat and that's what I am going to do." He smiled at me as his hand slowly rubbed the smooth skin all around my pussy and he said, "Maybe you're not as innocent as I first thought?"
I smiled shyly and tried to close my thighs in embarrassment only to have him hold them apart. "I have a surprise for you" he said, as he reached for something on the side table.
I soon saw that it was strips of silk fabric, which he used to tie my wrists and bind them securely to the underside of the bed somehow. But what was more surprising was that I didn't protest at all. I just looked at him helplessly watching him do it. He was going to tie me up and deep down inside my brain… I knew I wanted this! I wanted to be bound! I wanted to be held tight so I couldn't resist. I was just going to let him have his way with me now. I had resolved to do this and I really felt I would never go through with it unless I was forced a little somehow. But! I didn't protest at all as he moved between my spread legs
As he moved around between them, I opened my thighs wider for him. He used his hands to gently but forcefully pushed them open even more. "Trust me" he said as his face lowered and he kissed first the skin of my inner thighs and around and up over my stomach again and back down to my inner thigh.
Then as I moaned loudly, I arched my back and closed my eyes as he finally began to lick my pussy. It was wonderful, unbelievable. His lips gave me a shock that went into and over my entire body. He was my mentor, my teacher and he was licking my pussy, my shaved virgin pussy! I had never felt anything like it before. It was a feeling, which can't be described by words. You have to experience having your pussy licked for yourself ladies. But please! Experience it! If you haven't had it done yet, get someone to do it to you. Trust me, you won't forget it and you'll thank me for telling you. A pussy was made for licking first before fucking. If your man isn't doing that, find another man.
Jeff's mouth and tongue drove me wild within seconds. "Oh Jeff, OH SHIT! OH FUCK!! I CAN'T TAKE IT!! AHHHH!!!!!!!" I screamed at just the first few touches of his smooth soft tongue against my naked pussy.
But he didn't stop. He relentlessly licked and sucked my pussy while I thrashed and moaned under his mouth. My hips were now rocking my pussy into his face as he sucked and licked me. He would lick from the top of my slit to the very bottom, and then used his fingers as he pushed back the hood of skin over my clit and he began to softly suck my clit into his mouth. I screamed with rapture!
At the same time he massaged my virgin hole with his fingers. I buck my hips up pushing against his face feeling myself lose all control. He had me! I was gone and the pleasure was driving me higher and higher. All I wanted now was more, more stimulation. He didn't disappoint me.
He raised up off of me then to look at my wet pussy so close to his face. He rested his head on one of my thighs so that he could watch his fingers play with my clit which was now sticking out from its covering and getting harder and harder under his touch. He applied the gentlest pressure around it without touching it directly for a time. I was pumping my pussy trying to fuck his face. I whispered, "Touch it Jeff. Touch my clit baby! OH FUCK! Jeff I'm going to cum! TOUCH IT!!"
Then he pressed directly on my clit, then released the pressure for a second before applying it again. As he pressed again the electric pulses seemed to travel from my clit all over my body. I tensed as his finger once again pressed and released again and as his other hand and fingers massaged and slightly entered my virgin hole.
Jeff said, "Don't worry Rachel you will cum hard many times before I fuck that little virgin hole."
He licked and sucked me teasing me and kept me from that final step that would make me cum! He spent so much time pleasing my body I was drifting and drifting in a world of bliss. And then, he finally let the orgasm I wanted, and which had been so close all along, to finally overtake my mind, body and soul. As he sucked directly on my clit I arched my back and moaned as tears sprang to my eyes, "Oh yes Jeff! I'M CUMMING, OH YES I'M CUMMING! OH FUCK YES! NOW! OH FUCK!!! OH FUCK!! OH YES! JeffNNNN!! I'M CUMMINGG AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!" And I did! I had back to back orgasms!
I screamed as he continued to suck me even harder. I felt the strange sensation of muscles tightening uncontrollably inside of me and then contracting and as I felt my cum almost running out me, he still continued to eat my pussy. I felt like I was peeing but I knew I wasn't. My orgasm seemed to go on and on and on as Jeff continued to love and stimulate my pussy and body with his fingers, mouth and tongue.
I had my ass elevated up off the bed and as he sucked, my body was fucking on his face. I was cumming and someone else for the first time was getting me off. It was my first time and I fucking loved it! I knew right then that I had to have more of this, a lot more. I don't know how long he continued to work on me but slowly I began to come down from my first real set of orgasms given by another person.
I watched Jeff untie my bindings, and helped me up allowing me to come into the embrace of his arms. We sat facing each other and my legs were over his. I could see his enormous cock inches from my wet and opened pussy. I signed and said, "Oh Jeff, that was so wonderful!"
As he held me stroking my hair and kissing me tenderly, all inhibitions I had were gone. I was his and only wanted to show him the joy and pleasure I had felt. I kept looking down seeing his hard cock throbbing with his excitement. I kissed him briefly before saying, "My turn. Tell me and show me how to do you with my mouth."
And I lowered my face between his legs now and let my mouth and tongue taste his cock. As he leaned back on his elbows I looked at him and asked, "What do I do first?"
It was another first for me tonight. Jeff's cock was the first one I had ever touched and now I was going to taste it. First I licked the tip and then I sucked the tip into my mouth and continued to suck more and more of his long hard shaft in my mouth. As I pumped his cock in and out of my mouth he gave me direction. I pressed my lips against my teeth and pressed my mouth gently around his cock as I fucked his cock with my mouth. As I did, I got so excited that I felt a wild need to cum again. So I reached between my legs and started to rub my pussy with three fingers.
I moaned and as I sucked him and parted my thighs as I began to finger myself. He saw what I was doing and moved my fingers away and started to finger my pussy with his hand and fingers. "Oh FUCK Jeff… that feels so good. You have such a delicate touch!” I moaned between sucking his cock.
As I continued to suck his cock he was pushing more and more into my mouth. I now felt the tip of the cock head touch the back of my throat as my lips stretched around the fullness. He said, "Do you want to try and take it down your throat?"
As he fingered my pussy, I tried to take his cock head down my throat but choked too much and we stopped trying. I made a mental note to learn how to do that since it was something this wonderful gentle man seemed to like and wanted. He pulled it out all the way and told me, "Lick it right here."
He showed me that part of his shaft just under the mushroom head, on the underside of his cock that is the most sensitive. I did as he instructed and he then told me to feel his balls too. That they had to be handled gently but were a big part of his sex organ and should be sucked and licked too!
I had one hand holding his cock up towards the ceiling as I licked the underside of his cock and the one hand squeezed his balls lightly. I ran my hand up the shaft now and rubbed the pre cum dripping out the hole in the cock head over the tip and around the head. Then I licked the cock head.
He moaned and said, "Suck me Rachel! Fuck, you’re amazing. Harder suck it harder!"
As he held my head with both of his hands now he pushed my mouth down over his cock and I began sucking it again harder as he began to pump himself in and out of my mouth faster and faster. He continued pumping until he groaned "MMMM!! YES BABE! YES! OH FUCK!! SUCK IT! I'M GOING TO CUM! I'M GOING TO CUMMING! I'm GOING TO AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! FUCK YES!!!!!!!"
I looked up into his eyes and could see the lust in them. He held my head and told me quickly as he pumped fast, "I'm going to cum in your mouth Rachel…”
“I want you to, Jeff,” I panted.
“Try and swallow it."
I nodded my head obediently with his cock still in my mouth getting thicker and harder. I continued to suck him and his moans were louder this time and I was sure he was nearing his own orgasm. I had never swallowed a guy's cum, or even let someone cum in my mouth for that matter, but I knew that I wanted to swallow his load. Just as I completed that thought I heard him groan. I felt his cock swell in my mouth, followed by hot jets of cum shooting out onto my tongue and into the back of my throat. The feeling was strange, but I found it quite easy to swallow his load. He continued to cum, so I kept swallowing every last drop that came out. As more and more cum filled my mouth I couldn't take it fast enough. His seed filled my mouth quicker than I could swallow. 
I pulled my lips off his fat cock head gasping for air. His hand covered my hand. He was jerking my hand up and down as fast as he could go. I squeezed his hard shaft as I pulled my mouth off his cock head! The last few shots of Jeff's cum splashed on my chest and ran down over my chin and tits toward my stomach.
I continued pumping his cock until the cum stopped. I lowered myself again to lick the tip clean, not enjoying the taste as much as I did before. I would have to acquire this new taste so I could take more and please him. But, I knew I would take his cum whenever he wanted me to suck him off.
Surprisingly, his cock didn't soften but seemed ready for more. Gently Jeff lay me back on the bed and spread my legs very wide again. "I will be as gentle as possible Rachel, but I need to be inside you…", he said as he began rubbing my clit and slit once more with his hard cock head. I knew this was it! This was when I would stop being a virgin! He was now going to fuck me… pop my cherry… take my virginity from me.
"Oh Jeff! I'm ready, I'm so wet… I’m so ready… you won't hurt me.”
He stopped.
“But it will hurt…”
“Please? Just fuck me!" I pleaded. I wanted it so bad and now I had the one man who I felt would take my cherry as gently as he could. As I spread my legs wide he held my legs wide with my knees bent. He told me to guide his cock into my pussy hole. I did. I moved his hard cock head to my opening and told him, "I need this… I need you… I give my virginity to you."
This was probably a very bad idea. He wasn’t even wearing a condom. I wrestled with that thought for about one second, then his cock settled between my legs, the length of his shaft pressing against my wet folds, his hands on my hips.
Oh fuck he felt good. So soft yet firm, so wide and warm. Ooh, my whole body tingled. Nothing else felt like this.
He groaned and rubbed his shaft on me, bathing his cock in my slick folds. "Oh fuck that feels good," he breathed.
"Mmmmph," I agreed. I should probably tell him to stop before this got any further, but maybe just a few more seconds.
Then the tip of his cock pressed at my entrance. I froze. He felt so big. My body vibrated with the need to feel him inside me, to swallow his cock into my depths, and feel him stroke my insides like he had been stroking my opening.
He had gone just as still. I heard him swallow right before he pushed.
His cock gently parted my lips and, with barely any resistance, began to slide into me.
My mind finally caught up with the situation. "Jeff, no! Stop!" I yelped even as my inner walls clenched around him. I tried to pull away, but his hands held my hips firmly in place.
He grunted but stopped with his cock just past my entrance. It felt amazing, so warm and big and hard. My body wanted more.
"S-sorry," he mumbled but didn't move.
I didn't want him to. Or rather, I wanted him to move in both directions at once, part of my mind screaming for him to get out and the other begging for him to plunge all the way in. Instead, I lay there, frozen in indecision.
He pushed again.
"No! Jeff! Please stop!" Just the tip was one thing, but if he buried himself inside me, I wouldn't be a virgin anymore.
He groaned and pulled back out, just resting the tip at my entrance again. "Sorry! You feel so good, so warm and tight. Sorry..."
I relaxed, my heart beating too fast. But it was ok, this was fine. He wasn't even inside me, just touching me.
After a few seconds, he swirled the bulbous tip around my slick folds, glided between my lips to my clit and back again. I moaned. He had felt so amazing inside me. Maybe... maybe just the tip was fine. It wasn't really fucking.
When his rounded head settled at my opening, I pushed, just a little. That bulbous head slowly stretched my outer folds until the tip was lodged just inside my wet walls. It felt amazing. The first cock inside me. A little thrill of pleasure rushed through me. It was just the tip, it barely counted, but still so good. I shuddered.
I mumbled, "J-just the tip, ok? No more. Ok? That's it. It feels good..."
He'd gone very still, as though he was surprised I'd say anything like that. I should be surprised too. I think somewhere, some tiny part of me was panicking, but I couldn't hear it.
He swallowed again and nodded jerkily. "O-ok. You feel good too."
His voice was strained. The slight danger that he might get carried away sent a jolt of warmth to my pussy, and I clamped down on him. My thighs quivered trying not to push again, to capture just one more inch.
No sex. Just the tip. No sex. Oh my God, but my body wanted all of it.
He groaned and nudged at my wet flesh, slipping an inch of his hard shaft into me.
"Ah! No!" I squealed but didn't move. He was panting into my hair, his body tense. He didn't move either.
"Jeff, just the tip!" I panted and bit my lip. I couldn't make myself pull away, my pussy clenching around him.
"Oh. Um. Nnh." He stopped but didn't move.
We held ourselves there, lust rolling over both of us, waiting for something to give. He didn't wait long, shifting as he oh-so-slowly withdrew his cock back to my entrance, then gently forced my lips to swallow that round tip again, savoring every moment.
"Jeff..." God, it felt good but I couldn't let him fuck me.
He groaned and stopped again. I could hear his deep breaths, feel how tightly his fingers were digging into my hips as he tried to hold back.
"Y-you should stop now," I mumbled. My pussy was squeezing him. Oh wow, it felt nice and big, stretching me so beautifully. I wanted more, I wanted to be filled up.
I'm not sure if he heard me. He was probably busy fighting his urge to ram his cock all the way in and give me a good, hard fucking.
I shivered at how wonderful that sounded.
My pussy kept pulsing on his shaft, trying to hold him in no matter how much I should be pushing him out. He could probably feel me throbbing around him.
He pulled out again and I sighed as he held still with just the bulbous tip kissing my pussy lips. He stayed there and panted for a minute.
I couldn't help myself. His round knob felt so good sitting there between my parted folds, so tempting. I wiggled a little, felt that large head pop in again. Just the tip. Oooh. I squeezed it, imagining it sliding in further and further. Oh...
He tensed. I was too busy concentrating on how good his cock felt inside me to realize that his hands on my hips had shifted, that the bed had moved as he repositioned, and now he was ready to piston into me. He held still as long as he could.
"It’s time, Rachel... I’m going to... put it all the way inside you now," he said as he shuffled away.
My lust-filled brain took a second to register what he said.
“I know how much this means to you…” he panted as he jerked himself back to full hardness while lustfully staring at my young body. “Turn around with your face down and your ass in the air”. I felt my pussy prepare itself as I assumed tis new position on the bed. I wanted this older man more than I wanted anything in my life. I would do anything he asked of me.
His hands followed the flowing curves of my ass, over my hips then up my waist to my breasts, hanging now from my chest, just brushing against the bed sheets, sending shivers down my spine. One hand explored my neck, my ear, my hair… while the other reached around to tweak and tease my hard nipples before moving down and carefully prising apart my smoothly waxed folds. One finger rested on my hard clit without moving, but he pulled it away after feeling how my pussy was dripping with wanton lust for him. 
He suddenly bent his knees upward and between mine, spreading my legs wide open around him. My breath caught in my chest as he slowly but surely edged forward until the large shiny head of his cock was pressed between my puffy pussy lips. Tiny movements rubbed the tip of his shaft against my clit and I moaned with frustration and desperate desire for my big strong boyfriend. When I made the sound his hand quickly covered my mouth and he stuffed three fingers in, pulling my jaw downward and making me pant as he realigned his hot thick cock with my vagina and slid forward to penetrate his gasping girlfriend deeply.
He rubbed the tip of his magnificent cock in my juices and then gently pushed the head between my swollen labia moving it past the inner lips and inside my hole. I watched as it inched its way into me. He stopped often to see if I was OK before going any further. As he met the barrier, he backed off and asked, "Ready?"
I moaned yes and he thrust forward and broke my cherry. I bit my lip as a sharp pain hit me followed by waves of unbelievable excitement. As I whimpered slightly he asked, "Are you OK Rachel?"
I said, "Yes… I want this… take me!"
He smiled and told me, "The worst is over Rachel. Now we can make love. Now I can show you what you have been missing all these years."
As he told me that, he had pushed all of his manhood deep inside me and held his cock almost completely still inside me. As he buried it all the way now I moaned from the thrill, which had taken over the little pain. Oh God he was all the way inside of me. I looked into his eyes and told him, "Ohhhhhh fuuuuuuck… oh you feel so good inside me."
Slowly but without pausing he pushed forward until the whole length of his organ was buried in my hot pussy, with my pink and swollen outer lips forced wide open and my tight little hole stretched obscenely around the base of his veiny shaft. I knew as he sank into me that he was forcing his penis up through the remnants of my hymen. He paused there, enjoying the erotic view and the physical sensations of his young girlfriend splayed open and stuffed full in front of him, his cock in her pussy and fingers in her mouth, as she groaned with pleasure at being taken like this.
After a delicious pause, I felt him slowly withdraw his cock from my pussy and the veins and ridges of his shaft massaged my inner walls. Just as I was about to whimper at the sudden empty feeling, he reversed the motion and sank back into my vaginal canal, which rippled around his shaft. He nuzzled his face in the back of my neck and kissed my back tenderly, but there was no let-up in his accelerating acquisition of my tight young pussy. My boyfriend held me tightly as he continued to enter me and then withdraw again, over and over, our sweaty skin making quiet noises as we rubbed together.
At its deepest point of penetration, his penis completely filled and stretched my young vagina and nudged against my cervix at the end. I had never had a lover before him but, as his large testicles pressed rhythmically against my most intimate skin, I counted myself very lucky to have found someone to be my first who had such a large and satisfying member.
With one hand I reached back to stroke his face and feel his soft hair as he continued to make me his own in the most natural and primal way. His movements were getting much faster and there was a growing urge deep in my belly as his veiny organ rubbed against the moist walls of my pussy. It felt so right to be cradled in his arms as he took possession of my body, and my arousal was dribbling down from our intertwined genitalia to moisten his testicles and my squeezable little arse cheeks.
He reached around and found my hard clitoris with two fingers, rolling it between them as he thrust his swollen organ into me and kissed my neck. I somehow knew this was a sign he was reaching his climax and he wanted me to cum before him. I pushed his hand away and arched my back as much as I could, which changed the angle of my pussy and allowed him more room to penetrate me with increasing speed and force. He grunted softly with each insertion and I mimicked his movements with my own arse in order to maximise the depth and force of his cock's invasion.
As I pushed my hips up to meet him he began to move his beautiful, lovely, sexy fantastic cock in and out of my vagina. Oh fuck everything he told me was true. It felt so wonderful. Much better than masturbation ever did. Much better than oral sex did too. This is what my pussy was designed for; to take a man's cock then take possession of a man's precious seed. As he pumped away I rocked my hips trying to match his movements and give him the same feeling! Oh fuck. So this was what fucking was, pure rapture, pure passion and pure lust! I felt the need to rock my body and fuck him as hard as he was fucking me. MY need and lust had never been higher. I screamed. "OH fuck yes Jeff fuck me faster! Harder fuck me harder!"
Soon I was completely filled with his cock every two seconds he would slam it into me again, and again and again as my juices flowed and it became easier for him to pump and pump in and out of me. I arched my back and lifted my hips as he pumped into me. I wrapped my legs around him and squeezed his body as my pussy squeezed his shaft internally. As I rocked my hips in time with his thrusts, we both began moving closer and closer towards an orgasm.
Oh Fuck, how I enjoyed the feeling of my first cock, his cock, so hard, so long and so dam thick inside of me. When I felt another orgasm approaching I screamed out with my joy and arched my ass up as hard as I could. I used my hips to rotate on his cock as the muscles of my pussy automatically clenched around his shaft milking it. My orgasm had taken control of my body and was fucking him hard and fast!
I squealed with overwhelming pleasure and shut my eyes as my vaginal canal clenched and squeezed around my boyfriend's thick penis and an orgasm spread from my genitals throughout my tingling body. The pleasure inundated my whole body and I wriggled and shivered in his arms as he brought me to climax and held me tight in his arms the whole time.
After a few more thrusts, Jeff was on the brink of orgasm and I grasped his hand tightly against my soft flesh, opening my legs and pushing my ass into the air to allow the deepest penetration of my pussy so far. After two more movements of his hips, Jeff grabbed my waist and pressed down, impaling me onto his throbbing organ as he began to ejaculate powerfully into the depths of my vaginal canal.
He moaned in relief as his semen spurted into my pussy, streaming into my deepest parts and filling me up, marking me as his willing and grateful partner. Jeff’s member kept on pulsing out thick creamy cum and his hands made marks in the soft skin of my thighs as he continued to press me down onto him so that every drop of semen was propelled into my eager young pussy. Will ejaculated such a volume of semen that it completely flooded my vagina and started to leak out around the root of his thick cock, mixing with the sweat and my own sexual fluids on my smooth bald pussy lips. I sighed in ecstasy as my pussy brimmed with the frothy ejaculate of my muscular boyfriend and I relaxed against his chest.
Jeff repeated my name, over and over again, like a ritualistic chant. It sounded so sexy. I could feel his warm thick cum fill me and overflow as he pumped himself gently in and out of me. I cried out my lover's name in reply as we slammed our bodies together again and again and again as the sexal bliss took me to a place of warmth and wonder. We held our bodies tight against each other as we rocked together finishing cumming. Jeff slumped on top  of me, still pressing his penis down to the very bottom of my vagina, seemingly satisfied with the generous load he had pumped into my tight young body. 
Finally, our joint climaxes began to drift away. We held each other for a very long time in the afterglow of our union…my first time. Being taken sexually for the first time by my powerful mate had made me unbelievably sexually aroused and even more completely in love with him. I could not wait to explore this new dominant side of my boyfriend's personality and hoped he would exercise his physical superiority over me again and again.
Later after taking a shower and holding each other close we finally got around to eating that dinner we took home. He made me sit with him nude and I didn't care at all now that he could see my tits or pussy. I would have bent over and showed him my tiny little ass hole if he would have asked me! I was truly his to do with as he felt. I would do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. This was the beginning of a mutually satisfying sex life for one young woman who was previously pure and completely inexperienced. It was this older man who had shown her the way. I knew he wanted more of me and I certainly wanted all of him.
437 notes · View notes
aemxnd · 1 year
Text
the thrill of the chase | aemond targaryen x niece!reader
Aemond has a plan, whether you like it or not.
Inspired by a wonderful anonymous request — I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, but I hope this is what you were looking for!
WARNINGS: consensual non-consent/dub-con, physical assault, chase play, primal play, knife use, v fingering, p in v sex, praise, degrading, profanity, breeding, aftercare, reader has silver hair for plot point, reader is Rhaenyra’s child with undisclosed father, Aemond being sinister af, sickening fluff at the end
WORDS: 5.2k 
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Tumblr media
As fire forged steel, the gods forged your soulmate from your own blood.
Betrothed to each other by and large since birth, your bond with Aemond Targaryen was as invincible as Valyrian steel itself. Born mere weeks apart, two dragonriders watching each other grow and mature knowing you would be spending the rest of your natural lives together under the eyes of the Seven, your pledge to marry your beloved uncle was a match made in the heavens. 
Filling your parents’ hearts with the first sign of contentment they had felt in years, your union intended to solidify the bonds between your two Targaryen branches at last. After all, your brother Lucerys had not ingratiated your unit with glory having permanently disfigured your husband-to-be as children. Your marriage to your kepus would salve the wounds between Viserys’ offspring once and for all, leaving behind only scars.
Having sworn yourselves to each other so young and placing an unrivalled trust in each other’s hands long before adulthood, your childlike antics sprawled long into your years of maturity. You still challenged each other to races on dragonback knowing full well Aemond had the upper hand with Vhagar, pulled childish pranks on the other and giggled your hearts out whenever King Viserys mucked up an important speech.
Your bedchamber activities were no exception — remarkably unconventional and downright blasphemous. Still children at heart, you played games among the sheets, adopted unrealistic roles and experimented with your own pleasures more than a wed couple twice your tenure. In placing such trust in each other, you decided upon a number of safety nets to reassure each other should your adventurous nature exceed each other’s boundaries. Aemond’s signal bore the form of pressing two fingers to the inside of your left wrist, to which you would respond with either two taps of your fingers to signal your comfort, or three to mark your discomfort. Failing that, you decided upon a word to utter if either of you felt uncomfortable, unsafe or unwell in the situation you created within your carnal adventures — Malvales. If those three syllables were spoken at any point, you each made a solemn vow to cease at once. The safety net this term provided had sprung open the doors of possibility between you, each night (and often day) setting a challenge to explore new heights with the reassurance that you could each call a truce at any moment. 
Court’s proprietary standards bypassed you to the point your family no longer expected you both to conform. Where wed couples would typically keep a respectable distance at public engagements in the presence of others, you and Aemond were so often found stealing chaste kisses and boldly wrapping your arms around each other that more traditional members of your family became all too accustomed to rolling their eyes at your unseemly behaviour. Not that their clear visual disapproval irked you in the slightest, they only sought to encourage you in amplifying your public displays of affection with your husband to make their skin crawl even more.
At the close of a particularly monotonous family dinner and dance, Aemond’s arm snaked dutifully around your waist constricted slightly, startling you back to earth from your daydreaming. You turned to find your husband staring idly into the crowd, his violet eye desperately willing to gaze at you instead of maintaining a noble indifference for the sake of present company. 
“My darling wife,” Aemond addressed you without breaking his stare into the swirling commotion at court. “Are you quite aware of how beautiful you look tonight?”
“What, this old thing?” You chuckled to yourself before mirroring his hard glare into the crowd, flicking a dismissive palm over the heavily beaded emerald dress flowing over your form. “It’s just something I threw on.”
“It is quite unbecoming of you to appear so indecently delectable when I cannot take you until we return to our chambers,” Aemond gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing eagerly. “I wish to inform you that I consider this a personal indignation against your long-suffering husband.”
Your ability to withhold a typically jesting slap to his chest was waning with every insufferably formal syllable tumbling from his irresistible lips. 
“I am most apologetic, dear husband,” you declared through a sarcastic half-pout. “Pray tell, how could I possibly make a reparation for such an erroneous act?”
Aemond’s fingers idly stroked into the deep green velvet so rudely obstructing his access to your body beneath.
“I fear there is only one way to compensate for this,” he sighed softly, jaw tightening as he calculated his punishment so deeply he may as well have exuded steam from his ears.
“For you, Prince Aemond, I would do anything,” you gulped in anticipation. 
“Considering the evening’s festivities are drawing to a close, I must insist on a hunt,” he leaned to hum into the shell of your ear. “A hunt where my irresistible wife shall become the prey.”
You fired a hand to your chest in a vain attempt to disguise your faltering breaths, eyelids fluttering at his implication before he embellished his ingenious plan.
“You wish to hunt me, dear husband? So what happens if you catch me?”
“If I catch you before you reach our shared chambers,” he lowered his voice to a faint murmur to avoid prying ears. “I will fuck you in any way I see fit, and I will not take ‘no’ for an answer.”
You swallowed thickly at the prospect. Even if you put up a resistance, Aemond would take you by force. Especially if you put up a resistance.
This unconventional demand was not without precedent. One time you feigned weak protests against Aemond’s needy advances, dribbling out half-hearted “stop”s and “please don’t”s so temptingly that you portrayed more of an encouragement than an obstacle. Immediately upon hearing your false resistance, Aemond’s violet eye darkened to a sinister pitch black and sparked an inhuman drive to fuck you harder than ever before. The mere memory of that night’s ecstasy, losing track of the times he forced you to your peak and the way he gazed at you as if you were his prey, helpless and captive in his grasp, was enough to make your knees buckle beneath you. 
“Easy, princess,” Aemond hummed, tightening his grip on your waist to keep you upright. “Something tells me you approve of this notion.” 
“And…,” you swallowed thickly in a terrible attempt to retain your conversation at a publicly respectable level. “What is the prize if I evade capture before I reach our bed?”
“Unfortunately I have not yet considered that outcome on account of its sheer impossibility.”
“You may maintain this delusion, your Grace,” you choked down a giggle, shaking your head dismissively and finding a new spot in the crowd to focus on. “Perhaps I shall decide the outcome myself if I am crowned victorious.”
“Considering its improbability, you may do so, Princess. Meanwhile, I see the Lannisters and Starks are bidding the King their leave,” Aemond husked, his gaze finally snapping back to you, finding his violet eye already descended into a deep lust-filled black. “So the hunt is nearly upon us. Are you satisfied with the plan, dear wife?”
“You shall hear no protest from me, Prince Aemond,” you nodded dutifully.
He quirked a brow. “Oh I hope I will.”
You gulped so loudly, you swore the entire court heard as you prepared to seek a lesser-known path through the castle to a safe hiding place. Eyes darting around the great hall for a plan of action, Aemond watched your deliberations intently, firing his tongue out to trace along his bottom lip. 
“You have a head start, my love, but use it wisely,” he confirmed with a flick of his eyebrows, gently growling beneath his breath as he watched you like a panicked deer searching for a way out. Just as you started to pull away, his hand grasped yours and dragged you back to face him. “Remind me, what is our word again?”
“Malvales,” you confirmed, nodding frantically. “Y… your Grace.”
“Good girl,” he half-growled in the base of his throat, his sinister grin drawling out his final syllable. “Now I believe it is time for you to run for your life. May the Seven bless you, issa jorrāelagon.” My love.
In the moment Aemond released his grip on your hand, you demonstrably smoothed your gown and calmly paced toward your first exit.
“Ah, Y/N!” Your grandsire bellowed, beckoning you over to join his conversation with Queen Alicent. “My dearest granddaughter, how beautiful she looks in Hightower green this night, do you not think so my beloved?”
Alicent smiled faintly, nodding in agreement. “Quite, your Grace.”
You could barely hear their conversation over your thundering pulse in your ears, well aware of the precious time this idle conversation would be wasting. You glanced back across the hall to the spot where you left Aemond, clocking his lip curled into a predatory smirk. “Go now,” he mouthed before turning on his heels to disappear down a darkened corridor.
“I… I am sorry, grandsire, I must bid you farewell,” you stuttered frantically, balling your fists into the layers of your dress. “I… I am tired and I must rest.”
“Oh, of course my dear, it has been quite a long evening, please take your leave,” King Viserys pleaded, palms outstretched toward the nearest doorway.
“Thank you, your Grace, I shall see you at first light on the morrow!”
The promise sent a pang of regret through your veins the moment it left your lips while you fled for the door, for if Aemond has his way tonight, you will be quite unable to walk for the next five days straight, let alone first light. 
In the throes of sheer excitement, every hallway in the Red Keep looked exactly the same. The same bronzed candlelight only partially illuminating the way, leaving all too lengthy sections of darkness in which danger could lurk. The dull grey flagstones never changed in texture or pattern, enough to leave you disoriented after the first few twisting turns in the darkness when motivated by sheer tension between you and Aemond should he find you. You broke into a run each time you faced a long, straight hallway, settling to a jog with every corner. 
Your breaths grew ragged and hitched in your throat, spinning on your heels to check behind you at every turn but finding the same empty corridor as before. Your heartbeat brewing a storm in your ears prevented you from hearing even your own frantic footfalls on stone, let alone those of a predator. 
You swallowed thickly as you reached a familiar hallway, recognising that you were not far from your destination and that Aemond would lose his precious hunt after all. Slowing your jogging pace to a brisk walk, your thundering pulse relaxed. It was a nice challenge while it lasted, you thought to yourself, allowing your mind to drift through the multitude of consequences you could enforce on Aemond as forfeit for losing his precious race to you. Perhaps you would tie him to your bed and leave him untouched for hours, pleasuring yourself with your fingers while he watches on with lust-blown pupils, unable to reach out and conquer your body for himself. 
Suddenly, a loud whoosh behind you suggested that the shadows concealed more than the same old flagstones, but a cloaked hunter. You swooped around to catch a glimpse of the spectre but found nothing. Your heart sank at the realisation that Aemond was not wearing a cloak in the hall, eyes widening at the thought that you may have been pursued by someone other than Aemond. After all, the castle was still teeming with noblemen and women of varying families with very conflicting ideals of loyalty to House Targaryen’s claim to the Iron Throne, not to mention the looks of incredulous disgust cast in your direction for kissing your husband in front of the court. In a heartbeat, your blood ran cold as your anticipation transfigured into terror, freezing you to the spot — there is another attacker in the Red Keep. 
Yet the hunter did not strike, leaving you motionless in the middle of the hall staring into shadows but finding no ambush. Trying your best to dismiss what you heard as a cruel delusion in the midst of panic, you turned on your heels and continued on your path. Only two more corners and you would be safe within your chambers, free from this torment on your nerves and senses. 
Your heavy dress swooped around the final stone turns as a lead weight, dragging you down as if you were taking one step forward and two steps back. Trudging ahead, the wooden portal to your chambers came into view in the dim candlelight and elicited a deep sigh of relief from the bottom of your lungs. Whatever had been chasing you had failed, you were finally within reach of safety. Grinding to a halt as you pressed a palm to the wood between you and your safe haven, you exhaled once more, eking a slight self-satisfied grin across your lips. 
The loud swoop of an unsheathed blade filled the silence and a cold breeze snapped you from your blissful stupor, you gasped against the shock of a cool blade resting on your throat and a hand firing to cover your mouth to conceal your screams. Wordlessly, your captor steered you through the portal which once offered you sanctuary in order to avoid any prying eyes in the hallway. 
Your eyes darted to their peripheral points desperate for a glimpse of your captor, any glimmer of poker-straight silver locks would quell your concerns at any moment, but there was no respite to be found beneath a pitch black cloak flowing in the corner of your eye. The long fingers cupping your lips were concealed by a pair of sleek black gloves, hiding your assailant’s identity at every turn. You swallowed as shallow as you could against the restraint of the blade, jagged breaths betraying the sheer terror conflicting your every thought as you were being puppet-driven into the doors of your own chambers.
As you entered, the attacker threw you against the closing door, the wooden portal smashing into your chest as they used your body to close it. In removing their gloved hand from your mouth to click the door lock beneath you, they soon ensured no escape from your once safe haven that had now become your prison. No matter how many times you strained to see your captor, you could not glimpse any recognisable features. Whoever they were, they took great efforts to remain anonymous. Now free to cry out for help but still restrained by the threatening blade, you instead issued a soft plea to your captor. 
“Ser, please…,” your pathetic pledge spilled from your lips against the wooden door, careful not to move your throat too much against the sharp Valyrian steel edge. “If it is money you seek, I can bestow riches upon you. If it be power, I can arrange it. But please, spare my life for the sake of my family.”
Your assailant did not respond, merely holding you flush to the portal and awaiting your next comment. 
“My… my husband, h—he would stop at nothing to avenge me,” you cringed at the mere thought of the words tumbling forth. Whether you genuinely believed they would spare your life for the sake of a weak plea such as this was by-the-by, the waves of sheer panic flooding through you were responsible for all your decisions at this point, foolish or otherwise. “Please, ser…”
A low groan echoed from your captor’s throat, stopping just short of allowing you to identify their voice. Instead, they removed the blade from your throat and trailed it down your spine, following the path of the boning in your gown which cinched your waist beneath. Now able to breathe, your chest heaved and another growl emitted from the attacker as they observed your dress throbbing before them. While a hand reached to pull the top seam away from your body, the blade traced to the edge, pressed into you and sliced the fabric all the way down to your hips, decimating your smallclothes underneath in the process. You squeezed your eyes shut and hissed softly as the cool air of the chamber flushed over your bare back, the realisation of your fate flooding over you in chilling waves. Your captor would certainly take what he wanted from you before slitting your throat, your own Targaryen blood flowing between the flagstones of your chambers. 
“Ser, I’m begging you,” you pleaded weakly, gasping at the sharp sensation of cold gloved hands rolling the ripped fabric down your shoulders so what remained of your gown pooled at your ankles. Your captor swallowed thickly behind you, consuming your naked figure and the goosebumps that prickled in the cool air’s wake.
No response came. 
“W… what do you want with me?” You stuttered, petrified of the answer. Suddenly, both gloved hands clasped around your hips and steered you toward the bed in the centre of the chamber, violently tossing you head-first onto the sheets. In that brief moment, you could have escaped, should have escaped, but the fear of capture as you raced naked across the room no doubt to be stabbed by your captor froze you to the core, instead burying your face in the pillows as if to will the moments away. Maybe your ordeal would be over sooner if you accepted your fate, but that didn’t stop you kicking and flailing your limbs to deter them from attempting to pin you down. 
“Please, stop…”
A rustle of leather behind you suggested your speechless captor had taken off their gloves and began fumbling with their pants while watching you bare before them, faint echoes of sobs emanating from deep within the pillows. The mattress sank beneath you as they crawled onto the bed, bare knees caging you on both sides of your bucking hips yet still evidently wearing their cape as a wave of heavy fabric sweeping up your bare thighs. In the blink of an eye, a hand reached into your hair and tugged you skyward as hot, predatory breaths fanned your hair. A faint chuckle erupted from the attacker, coiling their fist into your silver locks and revelling in the way your body so easily caved to their will, even if your mouth did not.
“No, please, my husband, please…,” you panicked, writhing in their vice-like grasp as a wave of dread coursing through you as the enormity of your situation finally hit you. You had only ever bedded your husband, only ever felt his touch, only ever felt his cock inside you, only ever felt his cum dripping from your folds. Tonight, that loyalty, that commitment would be forever tarnished. Scalding hot tears burst their banks and seared their way down your countenance to soak the pillows below as you lowered your cracking voice to a pleading whisper: “Aemond, please help me.”
Suddenly, the hand that tugged on your hair reached for your left wrist, pressing two fingers to your pulse point. 
Aemond’s signal.
Your every muscle relaxed with relief, the tension in your spine loosening immediately. A sigh of contentment escaped you as you tapped your fingers twice onto the pillows beneath you, an unexpected bolt of pleasure thrumming through your core and seeping through your folds as you snapped back into the room, realising you were completely naked and pinned beneath your husband, not an anonymous attacker. 
“Aemond, gods be good, I--.”
You were cut off by his hands firing straight back into your hair, yanking you back to face him. His silver locks billowed under his dark hood, the cloak clearly the only garment he was still wearing, his jaw tensed in a sinister pout and most notably, his eye patch was nowhere to be seen, enabling his sapphire eye to glimmer softly in the dim light of the chamber.
“It seems I won the hunt, Princess,” he cooed into your ear, nibbling gently on the lobe and groaning gratuitously as you bucked into his touch, your thighs squeezing together tightly. “But you resist me so well.”
With one hand wandering to part your cheeks beneath him, the other scooped around your hip to drag you up from the sheets. His motions were just as swift, curt and merciless as they were before you knew his identity, making it abundantly clear that Aemond was still very much in character. 
“Aemond, I need time to still my nerves,” you pleaded weakly and unconvincingly, your back arching instinctively into his touch.
“I don’t think you do,” Aemond snapped, again tugging at your hips to pull you against him, his hardened cock tapping on your parted cheeks, leaving a light trail of his own slick in its wake. “You will do as I say, dear wife.”
“Please, at least prepare me first,” you panted, wriggling gently against his restraint but not enough to betray your own desires. The adrenaline rush from realising it was indeed your husband that ravished you had left you desiring to fuck him now more than ever. You didn’t need any preparation, he could bottom out inside you in a heartbeat and your warm walls would welcome him as ever.
“Oh, my dear sweet little princess,” he hissed through feigned gritted teeth, venturing a finger to trace through your already dripping folds. “It appears your cunt is already well prepared for me.”
A blast of heat rose to your cheeks as if a furnace had ignited before you. “Aemond, stop…”
“Tell me,” he hummed, replacing his finger with the tip of his cock lining up at your waiting entrance. “Did the thought of being ravaged by an anonymous intruder really satisfy my little wife that much?”
Frantically shaking your head, you balled your fists into the sheets in anticipation. 
“This is quite a way to find out my beautiful wife is not only a liar but also a whore,” Aemond concluded, slapping his tip against your cunt before nudging inside just a little. “I’ll have to take you by force more often.”
In one swift snap of his hips, his cock slipped inside you as comfortably as the first time he bedded you so many moons ago. Both moaning in unison, his fingers dipped into the flesh of your hips and drew you back to impale yourself further on his cock, his length nestling into your spongy walls like the missing piece of a jigsaw. Your eyes bulged at the intrusion, in sure and certain knowledge that you may never get used to how big he felt, how perfectly his girth filled you, how his tip reached the furthest points inside you that felt as if he was nudging into your lungs.
“Oh gods fuck, you’re so tight,” he swore out amongst a strangled gasp, the sensation of your walls clamping around him becoming almost too much already. “That’s it, clench down on me, try and stop me fucking you.”
“Aemond please, please stop,” you let out a half-hearted protest which stoked a fire in his loins, making your husband rear back and deliver a punishing thrust that stole the air from your lungs. “Please, it’s too… too much.”
“You’ll take what I give you, Princess,” he commanded, reaching down to knock your elbows from beneath you so you fell into the pillows. His hand pressed the back of your skull ever so slightly downwards. “Scream into the pillow if it hurts, because I’m not listening.”
Muffled whimpers and yelps vibrated through the cushion as you feigned protest, arching your back and pushing up your ass to meet his thrusts. Somehow, play-fighting against his actions only heightened your sensitivity to his every movement inside your heat, and Aemond responded eagerly each time you pleaded with him to stop when every inch of your body persuaded him to surge ahead. 
“I knew someday my plan would come in useful,” Aemond’s free hand fumbled to cast aside his cloak as it impeded his motions, leading him to initiate a perfectly normal conversation while piledriving your cunt and sinking your head into the pillows. “I concealed a cloak and gloves in a chamber some moons ago for a quick midnight escape if the Red Keep ever became too much to bear. Tonight, it finally paid off handsomely.”
Aemond began bending his knees to curl his thrusts, his cockhead meeting your sweet spot with every swoop inside you. Noticing his new tactic, you took the opportunity of his distraction to wriggle your hips beneath him, a false attempt to break free and stop his onslaught on your pussy.
“No you don’t, little whore,” he spat through gritted teeth, one hand grasping your hips and the other firing to pin your hands above your head. “You’re not just fighting a mysterious assailant now, issa jorrāelagon, you’re resisting your husband and we both know you could never resist me.”
Testing his theory, you writhed and flexed harder beneath him, trying to kick away his thighs behind you. “Please, please let me go,” you feigned, gasping for air now you could freely breathe above the pillow. 
“Take what I give you like a good girl,” Aemond commanded, an accomplished growl spilling through his last syllables. “Next time, I think I’ll fuck you while you’re sleeping. Maybe then you’ll stop trying to fight off what you want more than anything.”
You swallowed harshly as your body betrayed your façade, hot waves of pleasure pooling in your core and building a searing tension in your walls that threatened to burst its banks with a particularly devastating thrust.
“Aemond, I’m… I’m…,” you stuttered in hopes your husband would catch your hint that you were about to reach your peak.
“No you fucking don’t,” he snarled, rearing his hips back to pull out of you completely, kicking your knees from beneath you and tumbling you on your back into the sheets. Your first full-body vision of your feral Prince claiming you by force revealed his porcelain frame beaded with sweat, his violet eye so blown with lust that in your blurred vision it looked pitch black. His jaw constricted into a fierce pout, he gazed down at your shaking body beneath him as if a man starved, desperate to reach his home deep inside your cunt once more. But in dropping to the sheets, your thighs had clamped together, battling the loss of his cock inside you. 
“Spread yourself for me,” he growled like a wild animal. “Now.”
You nodded frantically, acting as innocent as possible as you opened your thighs before him, your throbbing folds reddened and puffy after his first onslaught. 
“I said, spread yourself for me,” he repeated, palming at his cock as he waited for your compliance. 
Your shaking hands trailed between your legs and parted your soaking folds, trails of your own slick glistening in the dim light.
“Good fucking girl,” he praised through a filthy drawl, his syllables melting together as his own heightened senses overwhelmed him. “Always such a good fucking girl for me.”
He leaned forward and plunged his length back into your waiting cunt, his eye journeying to the ceiling as your rippling walls greeted him willingly. He returned to his devastating pace all too quickly, fighting to gaze back down and watch his slick-glistened cock disappearing inside you at a breakneck speed, the lewd splashes of your coupling making a filthy echo throughout the chamber. 
“Please… please let me go,” you began to falsely plead for mercy again while his punishing thrusts sent you sinking into the mattress. “It’s… too much…”
“Easy, princess, I won’t cause you harm,” he cooed softly, bending down to whisper in the shell of your ear. “I only intend to break you so that the only coherent thought in that dumb little whore mind of yours belongs to me, my cock and how beautifully I split you open.”
The bolts of pleasure from his sinful words sent your hips keening up to meet his, head throwing back into the pillows and crying out his name like a sacrament to the Seven. 
“Aemond, please…,” you pleaded in the brief pauses between his thrusts, gasping for air and consciousness as the corners of your vision began to blur, your eyes fluttering closed. “I’m… I’m…”
“Stay with me, angel,” he husked, curling a hand around the back of your neck and hovering his lips above yours. “Be a good girl and watch me claim you.”
His pummelling pace refused to relent, taking your approach to your peak as a challenge to chase it fervently, swooping his hips and drawing his length out as far as possible before plunging deep inside you until you gasped his name so weakly that no sound came out. 
“That’s it, all you can think about is me, right?” He growled, relishing the way your mind and body had now caved to his desire, melted to his will and broken any wish for resistance. “I knew you could take it, I knew you wanted me to force you. All you needed was a little encouragement.”
With one last surge of strength, you pressed your hands to his chest and made a half-hearted attempt to push him off you. Chuckling deep in his throat at your pathetic action, his trademark sinister grin crept across the corner of his lips.
“A valiant attempt, dear wife,” he smirked, rearing his hips back so far his tip very nearly slipped out of your folds. “Now you get to watch me fuck a babe into you whether you like it or not.”
With one last devastating thrust, his tip pummelling against the perimeter your cervix, you cried out and wrapped your legs around his waist, curling your arms around his neck and drawing him in for a searing kiss as you toppled over the edge of your climax along with him, spilling his seed inside you and grunting with each string painting your walls. 
The chamber filled with both your ragged breaths, slowly riding out your orgasm as if you could stay rutting up into him for the rest of time. His exhausted gaze met yours, the fierce snarl to which you had become accustomed now softened to his traditional warm smile. 
As he tentatively withdrew from your folds, the mixture of your fluids dripping onto the sheets beneath you, Aemond scooped both arms under your back and pulled you up to sit upright with him. He held onto you so tightly, arms wrapped around you protectively as he dipped his head into your neck. Your body shook so gently in his grasp, the aftershocks of your experience still taking hold of your limbs. 
“I’m so sorry,” he pleaded softly into your ear, his tone so gentle and reassuring in such stark contrast to the entire evening. “Can I call for the Maester?”
“I… I am fine,” you stuttered weakly, returning his embrace and slumping into him. “Please, don’t send for him, I really don’t wish him to see me like this.”
“I did not mean to harm you, I would never… but you didn’t say the word…”
You shook your head against his. “I didn’t need to, my love. I promise, all is well.”
“Are you sure?” His worried tone calmed as his fingers ghosted lazy, comforting circles over your back. 
“Of course, please just… hold me.”
You could feel the stretch of his smile against your skin. 
“Kesan ōregon ao syt mirre hen ñuha tubissa, ñuha jorrāelagon.” I will hold you for all my days, my love. 
1K notes · View notes
heeliopheelia · 8 months
Text
"there's nothing i'd change about you. i love every single part of you" (niki x reader)
Tumblr media
genre: fluff, comfort fic word count: 0.6k requested by @im-yn-suckers ♡
a/n: i felt like writing something lighter tonight so here we go with kinda reversed comfort fic!! i'm working on the next hee drabble as i'm posting this one, so if everything goes well i'll finish the 1k event this week!!
masterlist
Tumblr media
A frown makes it way on your face as you check the clock and realize it's been fifteen minutes since your boyfriend's finished his shower. He's been in a foul mood ever since he's come back home, visibly exhausted and irked by every smallest thing on his way. He spat some harsh words at you too, but the instant regret flashing in his eyes each time let you know that he didn't mean them at all.
So you did your best to give him the much needed space, knowing that nothing helps him clear his head more than some time alone, but after such a long time of absolute silence coming from across the hall, you can't help but feel slightly worried.
You call out to him softly and when you get nothing in response, you make your way into the bathroom where Riki is. You tilt the door open and take a peak inside the steamy room, only to feel your heart dropping at the sight of your boyfriend slouching in front of the mirror, hands braced on each side of the sink as his head is hanging lowly, eyelids squeezed shut.
Your eyes soften immediately at the miserable sight and without a shadow of hesitation, you walk towards him.
"You okay, babe?" You put on your most comforting tone as you wrap your arms around his torso from behind. "You've been beating yourself up for a while now, hm? Tell me what's on your mind, handsome?"
"It's just–," he cuts himself off with a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his face. "I know I can be a lot sometimes. And I'm sorry that you have to deal with all of that so often. You must be tired of this shit by now."
You frown slightly, pulling your head away slightly to press a kiss to his shoulder blade.
"Hey, don't say stuff like that. It's okay, everyone lets their emotions unleash from time to time, it's normal. Would be hard for one to stay perfect all the time," you hum quietly, squeezing his waist a little tighter. "But there's nothing I'd change about you anyway. I love every single part of you. Especially the parts that you love about yourself the least."
Riki breathes out a heavy sigh and finally lets himself relax into you a little bit as the guard that he's kept so high up absolutely crumbles. You can see how exhausted he looks now, the usual playful glimmer abandoned his now nearly dull eyes couple days ago. You slip your hands underneath his shirt and run your warm hands over his abdomen in hopes of bringing him some source of comfort.
"I could never get tired of you," you let out a quiet whisper after another moment of silence, and rest your cheek on his back. "Just because you're not smiling and laughing all day long doesn't mean you're suddenly undeserving of my love, Riki. I love you just as much as I did last week – if not even more."
At that, your boyfriend finally pushes himself off the counter and turns around to draw you in closely into his arms. Leaning down, he buries his face in your hair and holds you tightly as his head buzzes with all the love he carries for you.
"Thank you," he murmurs, hand caressing your hair gently, "for always being here. You're my little angel, you know that, don't you?"
You hum quietly and raise to your toes to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "And I'll always stay here. And you will start trying to let me in a little more, okay? It's you and me against the problem – not you against me. Promise me?"
Riki looks at your outstretched pinky finger for couple seconds before intertwining it with his and lifting it up to his lips to seal the pledge with a kiss.
"I promise."
Tumblr media
permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth
898 notes · View notes
giggasnap · 8 months
Text
just gonna be so raw and real, the start of EP 9 where the lich prays to Golb and shows an actual emotion made me so emotional and I don't even know why. Like I actively started tearing up and I don't even know why. Something about it felt really vulnerable and open, like we're seeing this being that's been shown to be utterly ruthless and have no remorse take a turn into being emotive and distraught over the completion of its own task, and there's something really really human about it all? Like how often have you done something either out of obligation or a sense of duty, only to complete it, and find that it doesn't fulfill you at all? I'm obviously not encompassing all of the Lich's character here, because his "duty" was literally killing all life everywhere which is obviously inherently evil, but it still made me really feel something-something when he looked to Golb for answers, this entity he's pledged himself to probably since forever and ever, only for Golb to rightfully scorn him. There's something human about that to me
577 notes · View notes
pickingupmymercedes · 3 months
Text
Wrong for me - Charles Leclerc
Tumblr media
📷 @/nicolo.furicchia
pairing: charles leclerc x fem! f1 related! reader (the reader is a tp's daughter, I wrote with Toto in mind but there's no names)
song: Angels - Miley Cyrus
warnings: angsty but happy-ish ending
wordcount: 1k
a/n: Bit of a short one but it is my first time writing for Charles, so would you guys give some feedback? Also I'm thinking of opening up requests for drivers x readers with songs inspirations, I actually really like to take songs as inspirations
I know that you’re wrong for me, gonna wish we never met on the day I leave
It was everything your father had warned you not to do, yet it was everything you’ve thought about ever since he walked through the f1 paddock back in 2018. You knew he was wrong for you, but the very thought of each other consumed every inch of logical judgment in both of you. He had a couple of girlfriends since, they were all nice and polite, you tried to stay away but it didn’t make much of a difference. Their official reason for the break ups were the hardships of dating a driver, but he would tell you sometime later some of the exact words he heard were “Why am I always so sure your mind is on her?”.
A puppy love that had burned bright for a little over 6 months when you were still 16 but somehow had managed to quietly find its way through to today. Only this time the flame had threatened to burn not only your hearts but the entirety of his and your father’s team. The tension between the two of you had always been evident to those who knew what had happened back then, but as the 2024 season went further it was more than obvious to anyone with eyes that there was something there. Feelings and desire neither of you would dare to act upon and that would further build an atmosphere that could be felt and cut with a knife, making you wish every day you had never met.
When you finally realized you had the same effect he did on you, hurting him was how you protected yourself from giving in to the urge to fall head first into a love that you believed would not be able to thrive. So as his relationships crumbled down to their inevitable ends, you embarked in a string of meaningless flings in search of someone that would take your mind off of the one thing that you truly wanted.
Bringing him down to his knees with every ghosting you’d purposely inflict him, finding some unimportant meeting to attend instead of where you said you’d be, all the while excitedly celebrating his first win, birthday or even little achievements, moments of weakness you’d let your true emotions surface, only to shut him out right after, pledging to not drag him down the rabbit hole that was your blinding infatuation, with what you believed to be his way out of “misery loves company”.
Some of the drivers, protective as they had become of you, caught on pretty early how although Charles wouldn’t confess his affections, he would never candidly deny them either, which resulted in rising untrust between some of them, with your father on the other hand taking the blind eye approach and ignoring what was obvious until he couldn’t anymore.
You tried to pretend things were taken care of, but every time you found yourselves in the same space sparks could almost be seen coming from every other direction. The breaking point being a very public and loud display of how tense things were between you and him one Saturday night at the paddock, the motive long forgotten as both of you screamed at the top of your lungs for things the other had no fault. The frustration of walking on egg shells around each other clearly evident on the screaming match, and your father’s first intervention resulting in two grown adults looking like sulking toddlers who had just been told they had to deal with their emotions before anyone got seriously hurt in the cross fire.
That wasn’t the last time, and although you would try to keep discussions and screaming matches alike from happening, the public stares and midnight bedroom escapades escalated to a point where everyone decided enough was enough, and you were both locked at the FIA conference room, to either “kiss or scream it out” – their exact words.
“I’m not like your past relationship, Charles. I won’t bring you security, peace and quiet. I’m a mess and you know it, you’ve seen it. Everything I touch turns into a huge media monster and I’m fated to lose every single person I love. It’s not your fault I ruin everything, and it’s not your fault I can’t be what you need” You confessed, looking him with bloodshot eyes, tears falling freely.
“I don’t want them, I want you. Baggage and all, media attention and crazy fans, protective father and f1 drivers haunting me for years to come… The mess and everything they always said you’d be, because that’s the woman I fell in love with.” And although you had reservations on what you believed could be a relationship with the power to destroy his life, and potently his career, you gave in, letting your heart speak louder than your fears.
249 notes · View notes
bubbles-for-all-of-us · 8 months
Text
Pretty like the wind
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Previous chapter / Next chapter
a/n Part two! Writing was all I could think about today. Thank you for the love. It's been a hot minute since something brewed in my brain. 🤍✨
warnings: blood, violence, past trauma,
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Finding a way to focus had been hard the past couple of weeks. Azriel felt like a ghost who had pledged the sanctuary. He barely got out of his room, and if he did, he twirled around in the shadows. Watching. Hacking. It was an unsettling feeling at times. Feeling those golden eyes burning holes into your back. Listening in on your conversation. Yet every time you would turn towards where the phantom feeling of him lingered, you were met with nothing. A space where you had hoped to find him.
"Invite him to the communal. It sure must not feel nice to be left behind", Padme, the high priestess, casually said just the other night when you brought her all the paperwork you had sorted through. "He is free to come, P. He ain't a prisoner", you stated blankly. Focusing solely on the piles of papers as you arranged them. "You're being neglectful, my dear", those words made you look up as you frowned. "He is not my responsibility. I'm not assigned to him. I don't...", you stuttered on, crossing your arms around your chest defensively. "And yet... Our high lord had called for you specifically", she trialed off. A knowing, ancient smile painted her lips. You knitted your eyebrows as hard as you could, trying to look frustrated, but that only made the high priestess chuckle. You had wanted to find a strong enough counterargument for her statement, but your words failed you. So you bowed your head to her before walking away.
"Is he an ancient spirit?", Zofie, the young fea girl, asked as she looked up at you, making you crack a smile. Some of the kids have been more than observant. But then it was hard to miss a male of Azriel's size. And while grown women didn't spare him a second glance, the kids had grown curious. "That's an Illyrian soldier, Zo", Axel said, rolling his eyes at the younger girl. You questioned your choice the closer you got to the spymaster's room. He might very well not even be there. And even more so, he might have another outburst. And you had brought kids with you...
"Well, how would I know? I'm only little", Zofie stomped her little feet, making grabby hands at you. You shook your head at them. "Why don't you two ask him all of your questions yourself?", you suggested, right as the wooden door at the end of the hall came into view. You halted once more, but your lingering steps were outmatched by Axel, who had sprinted down the hall before you could even open your mouth.
Azriel had been trying to summon a bottle of whiskey for over an hour now. He was tired and frustrated with the lack of communication Rhys was willing to engage in. The only thing the high lord was willing to say was that Elain had gone with Lucien. She was in autumn. That had made the spymaster curse Rhys in all the languages he spoke. He was about to list all the reasons why that trip was not a good idea when Rhys shut him off completely.
Now he was sitting on the floor. Shoulders slumped. He looked ahead of himself. One of his shadows had flustered before moving towards the door, ripping at the handle. "I'm not going anywhere. So drop it", the spymaster had muttered. But the shadow didn't budge, nudging the metal tightly as a knock sounded, making Azriel look to the side. He was ready to ignore it. The last thing he needed was to deal with more nonsense, but then the thought struck him. What if it was you? What if this was his chance to get you to tell him how to get out of this place? If he caught you here, he would still have time to interrogate you spymaster style, and then...
Azriel grabbed the handle, spreading his wings behind him as he frowned. Yanking the door open. No one met his eyes. There was nothing there. Azriel was almost sure of it. Until a loud gasp filled his ears and something light hit the floor. "Axel", the sound made Azriel peer into the hallway. That's when he noticed you rushing towards him. That's when he noticed a tiny frame curled on the floor. Tiny leathery wings draped around the shaking body.
Azriel's wings sagged. He reached his hand out, but you were quick to stand in between them, your eyes wide as you stared at the spymaster. "Are you insane?", you said through gritted teeth, turning to look back at the trembling body. "Hey, Ax. It's all okay. No one will hurt you", Azriel watched as you carefully moved to brush your fingers through the boy's hair. A tiny, trembling hand reached out towards you. You took it without hesitation. The girl whom you had carried up to this point stood slightly to the side, her tiny palms pressed into her eyes. She was hiding. Scared because of... Azriel quickly shook his head. "I didn't mean...", you turned his way, his soft gaze replaced by a burning anger. "Who even opens a door like that?". Azriel was about to bite back when the boy looked up at him, muttering, "Wow..."
"Axel...", you questioned him, worry lacing your features as you watched him. "You're big... and your wings", the boy said, his eyes now fully on Azriel. You bit the inside of your cheek. Pulling Zofie closer to your embrace. The dark twirl swam towards the boy, and you were about to seize it with your magic until it ruffled Axel's hair softly, nuzzling against the boy's cheek, making him chuckle.
You swallowed thickly before turning back to Azriel and saying, "We came to invite you to the communal but...", to the sound of which both of the kids perked up. "We learned a new song", Axel said, "Zofie dances with the ribbons. Right, Zo?", He pulled at the girl's skirt, but she didn't lift her head from your shoulder. Something ached deep within Azriel. He craved fear. At this point, he was convinced that no one would ever learn to look at him any differently but watch kids shake at the sight of him... He had watched them for some time now. A part of why he had stuck to the shadows was because he didn't want to scare the younglings. He doubted seeing a big, bulky male—there were no other males here, as Azriel had noted—would make them feel safe.
"I'll come", Azriel said, thinking about reaching for the girl but choosing against it. She looked so small, clinging to you. He had made a child frightened. He had never... Azriel felt a small palm wrapping around his two fingers. "I'll show you the pool we have; well, it's not a pool, but... you'll see", Axel chirped, already dragging Azriel down the hall. You were about to protest. As it was, you had a long list of reasons why Azriel shouldn't come at all. He met your gaze. You watched him. Was he silently asking for your permission? You gave him a tight glare before nodding.
The kids were in their element, as always. Singing loudly as they danced together. Axel was up in the front lines, his eyes not leaving Azriel. Zofie had slipped off your lap midway through the third song and was happily twirling with her pink ribbon in hand. Azriel sat beside you. You could tell that he was uncomfortable. You doubted he watched the children much. You even doubted that he understood just how important it was for Axel that he was here. Azriel's eyes were scanning the place. Memorizing faces. You let out a sigh, and that seemed to have done the job because the spymaster lowered his gaze toward you.
"You know, you're an asshole", you said while plastering a smile on your face. Azriel huffed, "Says you", crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, I'm sorry, but out of the two of us...", you trailed off, shaking your head.
"You brought kids as backup", Azriel snarled once more. Now these words made you look right at him as you growled, "You wanted to break my neck". Azriel gave you a puzzled look. "Oh, don't look at me like ancient Mother Sun; you think I'm that stupid? You would have leaped at me once more", your words had come up more like an accusation than you would have liked. "For the record, I wasn't going to break your neck", Azriel muttered. Even more frustrated by your last statement now. "Oh, my apologies. Locking me up? Hanging me up from a ceiling? A bit more your style?", you rolled your eyes at him. Azriel gritted his teeth. You were getting on his nerves slowly, but then the fact that you thought he might break your neck... Oddly enough, he hated that. Azriel wanted to be far away from being a predator. He didn't want to inflict harm or fear. Slowly, he started to wonder about how much he still didn't know. Not just about this place, but himself. Another stab ripped past his chest, and Azriel let out a tight sigh. Clapping erupted around the room. Azriel joined in mindlessly, turning his head slightly your way and saying, "I'm so...", but he was met with an empty chair. Azriel's eyes darted around the room. He searched for the two kids as well but was met with a crowd of faces that didn't have any meaning to him. Azriel let out a frustrated growl, tightening his fists.
The candlelight was barely visible. Your eyes were burning from tiredness. You knew that you weren't going to get anything more done, but you refused to leave your study. It was the only place where you didn't feel him. And heaps of paperwork had managed to shove him out of your brain. It was bad enough that Axel talked about him until he eventually fell asleep. Padme, however, had given you a dissatisfied look. And you knew she was right, but you too had your reasons. You weren't a babysitter. There were no direct implications that it had to be you who monitored Azriel's behavior here. You knew that Rhys had eyes of his own here. He didn't need weekly reports. You blew out the last remaining candle. Not having enough energy to care about the scattered papers all over the table.
Rubbing your eyes, you moved towards the door. Opening them up with a spell. And you wished you hadn't the moment you did. A mortified scream left your lips. A hand clasped over your mouth. Flickers of your magic sparked, cracking the solid wall of darkness. "It's just me", you shoved your palms against Azriel's chest. "You're a sick bastard", you said, pointing an angry finger at the spymaster. To your surprise, he let out a low chuckle, making you huff. "How dare you laugh?", you moved to fix your dress. Trying to hide the tremble in your palms. "You're running away from me", Azriel stated calmly. You gave him a daring look and said, "I am not inclined to see you".
Azriel watched you. Even in the dim hallway, there was no way he could deny that there was something about you. The way you carried yourself You had proven your point that night in Azriel's room when you drew his consciousness away from him. He knew you had magic lurking deep within. But even that didn't seem like something that would call to him. "But you can answer some of my questions", he stated blankly. You shook your head in disbelief. "You did all of this so you could ask me a question? Under what rock have you been raised?", you stepped closer to him. Here. Here it was. That daring glare made something deep flick within Azriel.
"You'll have to forgive me. I was the one to wake up in a place I knew nothing of", he snarled back. Taking the last step towards you. Fully towering over your frame. Your head was now drawn up, so you could keep eye contact with him. "But I wasn't the one who went for a mated...", You cut yourself off. A bitter taste coating your mouth. The fire in your eyes died down. "Say it", Azriel muttered through gritted teeth. You watched him. You had no right to judge, and you didn't. "Everyone knows about it, don't they? You tried to make a fool out of me by dragging me to that circus today?", Now his words were drenched with venom. You had nudged a sleeping tiger. "That was not a circus. Communal is for children", your voice was small. Azriel let out a bitter laugh. "Is that what Rhys wanted? To humiliate me", there was pain so deep within him that even your bones ached.
"And you... you're here to orchestrate it", he snarled, stepping away from you. You suddenly felt so little. You had no intention of making Azriel feel like a fool. He shook his head one more time before he turned to step away. "Azriel...", you called out, stepping forward to grab his hand. Forgetting all boundaries. Losing control over your mental shields. The moment your hand touched his, all you managed was to take one more inhale before a ray of vision flashed right in front of you.
Azriel felt as if he was trapped in a never-ending nightmare. As flashes and flashes of what seemed to be memories glimmered through his mind, he saw the sanctuary. An elderly lady. Coldness and pain. Something that reminded him of the basement he had been locked in. Then there was Rhys. Illyrian camps. Angry males. A fire. Shouting females. Scattered wings. Blood. Shrieking children. He tried to move. He was unsure if it was real or just in his mind. But when he lifted his hands, bloody palms met him.
You yanked your hand back. Breathing heavily. Azriel was panting too. He blinked a couple of times. Eyes darting to your trembling frame. Your cheeks glisten with tears. Void grew deep within the spymaster's chest. Azriel moved to step closer, but you put out an arm in front of yourself. "I won't hurt you", his voice was the softest you had ever heard from him before. Yet you still shook your head, muttering a quiet, "I'm sorry".
526 notes · View notes