Your mom called, I told her you're fucking up big time
Max Hastings x Reader
Synopsis - Max's mom called him and you picked up.
Warnings - implied past noncon, toxic relationship, manipulation, gaslighting, violence, misogyny, power imbalance.
Word count - 660.
A/N - this isn't at all what I had in mind when I started writing it, so I'll be working in another Max fic lol.
"Your mom called you while you were on the shower." I say, as soon as I hear the bathroom door open. I sit at the feet of the bed, gripping the tight covers beneath me.
The soft warm lights haunt the bedroom, some steam coming in from the bathroom. Max comes out and starts drying his hair with a white towel, as another one is tied to his hip.
We're alone in the house.
"I'll call her back." He says.
I inhale deeply. "I picked up." I spurt.
"What?" He freezes, his hands covered by the towel, and turns his face to me. "Who gave you permission to do that?"
"I don't need permission." I look at him in the eye as he comes closer, his head tilted towards me, dangerous. I stand up, backing away from him.
"What's wrong with you today? Do I need to remind you of what you really are?"
"I told her about what happened."
He stops walking. He straightens up, looks at me for a second as he leaves his mouth open. Max turns around and walks slowly to the dresser, holding himself onto it.
It all happens so fast I don't even see the portrait before it hits me in the face. My eye stings and I scream. He strides towards me in big steps and his hand flies to my throat. He tightens his grip without any hesitation, blinded by rage.
"Shut the fuck up!" He roars in my face. "Shut up! You scream one more fucking time and I'll kill you! You heard me? I'll fucking kill you." He hisses, shaking my neck. "Say you understand, Y/N."
"I understand." I say as clear as my closed throat allows me.
"Fucking bitch." Max lets my neck go with a push, making me hit the wall. "What did you tell her, huh? That you were raped by your own boyfriend? Who's gonna believe that? You. Stupid. Fucking. Brainless. Bitch."
Max comes closer again and I send my forearms to cover my chest.
"It's your job to open your legs for me, baby. It's your only job." He taps my temples violently, "does your thick skull understand that?"
He pulls away.
I cry silently, tears coming down my eyes as I cover my eye and the bleeding cut below my eyebrow. I can barely keep it open. It's all blurry on that side.
Some spots are totally black.
The blood coming from my eyebrow stains my fingers.
"Yes, Max." I whisper.
"What did you tell her, huh? Because now I gotta go tell her you are just a deranged cunt that's making lies about me. And don't get me started with legal actions; I can take you down. What did you say?"
"That... That we had fought and that I wasn't going to go to dinner tonight. That I was waiting for... you to take me home after your shower."
"God damnit."
He shakes his head before combing his blonde hair with his fingers.
Max points at my figure, "look what you made me do because of that."
"I think you broke something." I whisper, still covering my eye, facing the floor.
"Don't be exaggerated... Let me see."
He takes my hand off my face and I look up at him. "I don't think I'm seeing well." I say, my voice breaking.
He stays silent as he looks straight into my left eye. He doesn't move and I can't tell what he's thinking about.
Am I exaggerating? It hurts so bad. I really think there's something wrong.
Max goes to his closet and I stay quiet. He grabs some clothes and starts dressing himself.
I try to wipe my tears off but some are mixed with blood and I end up making it worse.
"We're gonna go to the hospital. What happened is that I got out of the shower and saw that you had fell and hit your head with the dresser. Okay? The corner against your eye."
"Does it look that bad?" I mutter.
"Do you understand what you gotta say, Y/N? It's an easy task."
click the source link to access to #45 medium gifs of Henry Ashton in A knight of the seven kingdoms - season 1 (2026). All gifs were made from scratch by me, so please don’t claim them as your own and don’t forget to credit me if you use or repost it.
La otra semana no dejé de pensar en esta idea y cómo desarrollarla para que tenga algo de lógica. La idea me vino después de releer uno de los pocos fanfics de Max donde embaraza por accidente a su novia; ella lo quiere tener, él la deja, su mamá se entera y lo obliga a ser "responsable", y así, pero yo pensé, ¿y si en el juicio aparece una nueva víctima contra Max? Ella apenas regresó al público; se mudó a EE. UU. por temas de estudios en el 2019.
Ella ya había puesto su denuncia cuando sospechó que fue violada la primera y única vez que fue a una fiesta, pero no está segura de quién fue, y cuando regresa, el jefe del caso le pide que testifique, ya que posiblemente fue Max, porque todo su testimonio concuerda con el de las otras chicas. Pero ella no está sola, tiene un infante ya de 5 años cuando regresa; ella tuvo al bebé porque cuando se enteró del embarazo ya no podía interrumpirlo y se quedó con el bebé por sus padres. Tiene buena economía, no rica como los Hastings, pero hay plata.
Ella se presenta al juicio, da su testimonio de lo que pasó, pero no ayuda mucho porque es muy vago; no conocía a Max personalmente, solo sabía de él porque su familia es rica, y el abogado de Max insiste mucho en hacerla ver como mentirosa o una falsa víctima, hasta que ella revela que tiene un hijo por esa noche y que ya va a cumplir 6.
Pero, ¿cómo puede estar seguro de que el niño o niña es de Max? Fácil, una prueba de paternidad; a Max se la hacen sin miedo, por siempre una protección, pero sorpresa, sí es suyo. XD
Pero, por tema de tiempo y así, no ayuda a que Max se declarado culpable, u.u, y sale inocente, pero ahora tiene otro problema: cuando la prueba llega y si es positivo, los padres de Max estallan e inician otro juicio; ellos no, Max, él no quiere saber nada de ella, no recuerda ni su cara.
Y bueno, los padres de Max quieren pelear por los derechos parentales de Max para, bueno, ellos tener una relación con su nieta o nieto, y con esto y la grabación de Pippa Fitz, que incluso hace un episodio hablado del caso de lector, es la mayor posibilidad de que Max sí es culpable.
Mi idea de lector no es una chica que le gusten los problemas y trate de mantenerse en bajo perfil. Aun así, todo esto la arrastra a tener más interacción con Max y Pippa de una forma u otra.No sé si le parece una idea interesante.
summary: Rhaella was described as the perfect mix of her parents personalities. Fierce, loud, loyal, but also a kindness that only extended to those she loved. In the year 123 AC she was sent North to attend as representative of the crown where she mer her future husband Cregan Stark.
Summary: When Y/N and Aegon receive news that they cannot wed, they flee King’s Landing for a simple life in Bravvos. Upon returning to visit their families, they find themselves face to face with the consequences of their actions. Cheesy, targcest, idiots in love. Based off this request.
“We mustn’t allow them to carry on like this!”Alicent shouts.
“I agree,” Rhaenyra says, heartily. “Keep your son away from my daughter.”
“Keep your daughter away from my son!” Alicent bites out. “She should begin preparing for her marriage to the Lord of the Riverlands as Aegon should be spending more time with Helaena.”
“Mayhaps there is a simpler solution.” The King sighs, with a hand to his head.
“What is it you suggest, father?” Rhaenyra wonders.
“We might betroth Y/N and Aegon.” He smiles, looking between his daughter and wife.
“You may betroth my firstborn son to her…plain featured daughter when I am cold and in my grave.”
“Alicent!” Viserys roars.
Aegon wastes no more time listening to them quarrel, setting off in search of Y/N. He finds her in the library, as she often is. “Y/N,” he kneels before her chair. Closing the book and using his finger against the binding to hold her place.
Y/N looks up at him. “What is it?”
“There is something I must tell you.” From the time they were small, Y/N has been the one to hold his secrets.
“Speak it,” she squeezes his wrist.
“Only moments ago my father offered to betroth us, our mothers rejected the proposal. They want your hand for some River Lord and mine for Helaena.”
“No.”
Aegon cups her face in his hand. “Come away with me. We can built a new life, together. It may not be as lush, but it will be ours. You will still have your cakes as they please you, I swear it.”
“You would do that for me?”
“I would do more for you and worse.” Aegon smirks.
“Well…what shall I bring?” Y/N asks, ignoring the pang of guilt in her chest.
“Pack sparingly, a change of clothes or two. We’ll need gold and jewelry to trade; enough to get us started.”
“Where will we go?”
“One of the free cities,” he decides, “no one will be looking for us there. And it does not have to be forever, long enough for us to get married. If we’ve a child, they’ll have no choice but to honor our union.”
“Alright,” Y/N swallows.
“Go now,” he presses his lips to her forehead. “Meet me at the dragon pit in one hour’s time.”
The princess nods, nuzzling against him for just a moment before they break apart.
By the time anyone comes looking for them, Y/N and Aegon are long gone. Leaving behind only a note.
‘If you will not allow us to marry for love, we will do so elsewhere.’
King Viserys is so distraught at the news, he passes with the shock of it.
Rhaenyra takes her place as Queen, refusing to rename her heir.
————————————————————————
Life is different in Braavos, no maids, dragon keepers nor castle. Aegon cuts his hair up to his chin on the day of their wedding, freeing himself from the memories it holds.
There are rumors of course, about the town baker and his wife, the tailor, who may or may not be the long lost prince and princess. Their dragons do nothing to disprove these whispers, however they do stop them from reaching the Red Keep.
Years pass, news breaks that Y/N is with child, growing rounder by the day.
After a long day’s work, Aegon is exhausted, shucking off his boots near the door of their humble abode and bringing his wife an offering of sweets.
Y/N smells Aegon before she sees him, calling out from the kitchen, “what have you brought me today, husband?”
“What if it were for me, spoiled thing?” Aegon chuckles, lying his offering on the counter to wrap his arms around her. Their babe kicking at his palms.
Y/N reaches back, cupping his cheek. “Best turn about and fetch mine then.”
He smiles, pressing kisses to her shoulder. “How is our little dragon treating you?”
“Well enough,” Y/N sighs, stirring the broth. “I have not wretched this day.”
“That is good.” He pats her belly. “I brought you cake.”
“What kind?”
“Dinner first, my heart.” Aegon insists.
“Or I could have cake for dinner.”
Aegon sighs, as she leans into him.
“Please?”
“Very well.”
Y/N turns to face him, abandoning her cooking in favor of his kiss. “Thank you.”
————————————————————————
Bringing their love into the world is a long and grueling task, Aegon keeps her spirits up as best he can. Unfortunately there is only so much a man can do for a laboring wife.
Y/N is exhausted by the time she delivers the afterbirth, fighting sleep as she nurses their newborn daughters. A task she deems horribly painful in itself.
Aegon strokes her hair, whispering words of love and encouragement until the babes are satisfied. “You rest now, I will bathe them.”
His wife does not protest, allowing her heavy eyes to close.
Neither of the twins cry, until gods forbid he sets them down. “Shh,” Aegon hushes them, taking one in each arm. “Papa put you down for only a moment, surely you cannot be held at all times.”
The babe on the left yawns, stretching out her little arms. The babe on the right merely blinks at him.
Until they learn to crawl, Dahlia and Visera are indeed held at all times.
————————————————————————
By the time their sons are born, Y/N often tells stories of her family back in King’s Landing. Her mother especially, who she wishes to meet them.
Aegon returns from the dragon’s nest with two new eggs, one for each of their boys. “Stormborn and Sunfyre are thoughtful, they deliver us clutches in pairs.”
Y/N smiles, from their dragons came an egg for each of their children. “Let’s see.” She waves her husband over.
Their eldest son, Laenor, toddles toward him, pointing to the bright golden egg, “mine.”
“Ah, ah, hold on just a moment now.” Aegon says.
“Please?” The two year old pouts.
“Yes, alright.” Aegon sets the dark blue egg down beside his wife and youngest son. “We must be careful with it now, sit in Papa’s lap. We’ll hold it together, hmm?”
Laenor claps his little hands together, reaching up for his father.
Aegon backs up to the arm chair, holding the egg above his head, “climb up.”
Laenor furrows his brow, crawling into his father’s lap.
“There we are, my boy.” Aegon holds the egg infront of him, allowing Laenor to touch the egg’s scales.
“Look, Papa.” He points.
“I see, my love. Soon it will be a little dragon, just for you.”
Laenor squeals in delight, “Mama, look.”
“I see it, sweet boy. That is a lovely egg.” Y/N grins.
Dahlia and Visera play happily on the floor with their own dragons, still small enough to tote about.
At all of six months old, Aegon the fourth has no understanding of the word gentle, he slaps at the egg like a drum.
“Aegon!” Y/N can’t help but laugh, moving him away. “You must be kind to your dragon.”
“Him fly!” Laenor tells his brother, who merely stares back at him with a toothy grin.
“Yes, he will fly.” Aegon smooths down the curls at the back of his son’s head.
“When your uncle Joffrey, was born Ser Harwin took Jace, Luce and I down to the dragon pit to find the perfect egg.” Y/N recounts, with a far off look in her eyes. “He must be a man grown now.”
Aegon clears his throat, praying he does not live to regret what he murmurs next. “What if we went to visit your mother?”
“Well…” Y/N sighs, patting her son’s legs as he climbs over her. “We couldn’t.”
“Why not?” Aegon challenges, “it’s a short trip on dragon back.”
Y/N stares down at her hands, “my mother must be very angry at me.”
“My mother was never anything but angry with me.” Aegon chortles, “Rhaenyra will get over it.”
“Are you certain?” Y/N frowns, “I know how you detest court.”
Aegon nods, “for you, the world.”
————————————————————————
Word spreads through the streets of King’s Landing like wildfire. Princess Y/N and Prince Aegon have returned to them.
Daemon is the first of their family members to cross their path, all but dragging Y/N to his wife in the throne room.
“You wait here,” he barks at Aegon. Leaving him outside with the children. “Princess Y/N Velaryon,” Daemon calls upon their entrance.
Rhaenyra moves to stand.
The king consort leaves them to it.
“Your grace, I would first like to apologize for my long absence.” Y/N says, as her mother stalks toward her; expression unreadable.
Rhaenyra pulls her daughter into her arms, cradling the back of her head. “You must never do that to me again.”
“Mother,” Y/N cries, clinging to her like a child. “I am so terribly sorry.”
“Shhh,” Rhaenyra sways her. “We can still make this right.”
“I should like that very much.”
“You need only say the word and I will have your marriage annulled.”
“What?” Y/N withdraws, “no. You cannot annul our marriage, it’s been consummated…several times over. We’ve children.”
“Children?” Rhaenyra sucks in a breath.
“Two daughters and two sons.”
“Might I see my grandchildren?”
“Of course,” Y/N holds up a finger, dashing over to the throne room doors and inviting her family inside.
The children scamper in as Rhaenyra’s eyes well with tears.
Dahlia stares at her grandmother in wonder, while Visera clings to Aegon’s leg.
“This is my mummy,” Y/N tells her children, “remember how I told you?”
Laenor moves toward her first, waving his hands.
“Well hello, my prince,” Rhaenyra bends down to greet him. “Who might you be?”
He smiles, “up.”
Rhaenyra huffs a laugh, taking him into her arms. “That’s quite a name, Prince Up.”
“It’s Laenor,” Y/N says, bringing Dahlia closer, with their hands clasped together. “This is Dahlia.”
“Good morrow,” Dahlia smiles.
“Good morrow, Dahlia. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Rhaenyra beams, “if you could put in a good word for me with your sister, it would be much appreciated.”
“Visera is shy.” Dahlia whispers, “but she will come round.”
Aegon the fourth kicks his chubby legs, squirming about in his father’s arms as they approach the Queen.
“My goodness.” Rhaenyra turns to him, “what a warm welcome.”
The little boy squeals, as Y/N takes him from Aegon, freeing his arms for Visera, who hides her face in his shoulder.
“And this is Aegon, the fourth.” Y/N smiles, presenting him to her mother.
Rhaenyra grins, “hello, sweet boy.”
He covers both eyes, with his little hands, babbling loudly.
“You are a delight.” Rhaenyra reaches a hand out, tickling his belly. “I should like you all to join us in the grand hall for supper tonight. We will feast, in your honor.”
“Mother, we did not prepare clothes for a feast.” Y/N tells her. “But if you’ve material, I will make do. In these past years, I have learned to stitch quite well.”
“And I could assist in the kitchens.” Aegon offers.
Y/N’s eyes light up, “you must taste his baking, mother. It is divine.”
Rhaenyra shakes her head. Not sparing a glance at her half brother, “you are my guests. I will have gowns and robes sent to your rooms. You will find everything as you left it.”
Y/N smiles, “we’ll see you for dinner then.”
The Queen nods, excusing them.
Y/N and Aegon lead the children away from the throne room, up the stairs toward Y/N’s old apartments. Meeting her younger brother and his heavily pregnant wife on the stairs.
“Sister?” Jacaerys blinks at her.
“Jace!”
“My love, might you find Luce and Joffrey?” Jacaerys asks of his wife. “Tell them our sister is here.”
“Of course, husband.” Baela leans in as his lips brush her cheek.
“You’re going to be a father?” Y/N grabs for his arm.
“I am a father.” Jace grins, “this will be our third.”
“Has it been that long?”
“Some seven years, sister.” Jacaerys looks to the children behind her. “And you,” he laughs, “have more to show for it than I do.”
Again Aegon is left standing off to the side as Y/N’s family fuss over her and their children. He is glad for it, surely. This is her dream, not his.
“Aegon?” Alicent gasps at the sight of him.
He turns to her slowly, “Mother?”
The Dowager Queen grimaces, “a word?”
“But of course.” Aegon steals one last glance at his wife and children before following his mother down the corridor. For a moment he thinks she might embrace him, until she grabs his face harshly between her fingers.
“What were you thinking?” Alicent seethes, “taking off like that? Putting your father in such a state of distress; his illness took him not even a day after receiving word that you stole his only granddaughter and heir to the throne.”
“Stole her?” Aegon huffs a laugh, “I did not steal her.”
“Did you not think for one second of the shame it would bring on your siblings, or me?”
“As you thought of my wants when you promised me to Helaena?” Aegon spits back.
“It was expected of you,” Alicent seethes.
“Only my supposed wrongdoings are ever clear to you.” Aegon scoffs, “so strike me for it, as you always do and let us be done with it. How dare I desire to marry the one person in the world who loved me?”
Alicent recoils as though he’s slapped her.
“Aegon?” Y/N calls for him, “where’ve you run off to?”
“I’m just here, darling girl.” Aegon replies, striding away from his mother.
“Is everything alright?” Y/N asks, holding a hand out to him.
“All is well, my dearest love.”
————————————————————————
Dinners at the Red Keep have not been this tense in years. Namely because the Blacks and Greens rarely break bread together.
Jacaerys’ and Baela’s children dance with their cousins as the quartet plays merrily, the six of them becoming fast friends.
Y/N laughs, pointing toward their eldest son. “Look, my love.”
Aegon leans his head closer to hers peering around his brother. Laenor spins round in circles until he is dizzy enough to fall over. When he is able to stand, he goes straight back to it. Aegon chuckles, “we’ll need to keep an eye on that one.”
“Without doubt.” Y/N remarks, bouncing Aegon the fourth in her lap. He grabs a fistful of her mashed potatoes.
“Oh my,” Aegon grabs his hand, wiping it clean with his napkin.
“You’d like dinner too, wouldn’t you?” Y/N says, turning the boy toward her.
Little Aegon coos at her.
Aegon presses a kiss to his son’s cheek.
“Won’t you excuse me for a moment,” Y/N addresses the table, “I need to feed him.”
“We’ve nurses,” Daemon offers. “You’re welcome to finish your meal.”
“That’s quite alright,” Y/N says, pushing away from the table. “We’ve survived without nurses thus far.”
Aegon catches her hand, “will you return or shall I bring the children up when they are through?”
“I will return, shortly.” Y/N squeezes his fingers before moving down the row of chairs into the hall.
Aegon clears his throat, as other occupants of the table eye him, warily. “Lovely meal.”
“Indeed,” Otto agrees.
————————————————————————-
Y/N wakes the next morn to rays of sun shining through the large window of her childhood bedchamber.
Aegon feels her begin to stir, tightening his hold around her waist.
“What did your mother say to you yesterday?”
“It is far too early to raise this matter, my heart.” He grumbles.
Y/N huffs, toying with his fingers. “She was awful to you, wasn’t she?”
Aegon presses his lips to her shoulder, “it matters not.”
“It matters to me.”
Days pass, Y/N does not press the subject. Though she does exercise every opportunity to glare at her mother by law.
They spend afternoons in the courtyard garden, with their children. Picking flowers to make crowns, finding shapes in the clouds.
“Just there I see a rabbit.” Visera tells her mother and father.
“Where?” Aegon cocks his head to the side.
“There’s the ears and there’s its tail.”
“Oh, I see.” Aegon spots it, “that’s quite a coat of fur on him, hmm?”
Aegon the fourth plucks petals from the wildflowers Dahlia weaves together, sighing as she does.
“What troubles you, my love?” Y/N asks, passing a hand over her silver waves.
“Everyone has been so kind and happy to receive us…though no one seems happy to receive father.” Dahlia says, taking one of the flowers and tucking it behind her Papa’s ear.
“That is the way of things, my darling.” Aegon smiles, sadly.
“We are happy to receive him.” Y/N insists. “Give father a big hug.”
Laenor sees the pile of bodies, throwing himself on top of his elder sisters.
“Squeeze him as tightly as you can and say ‘I love you, father.’”
“I love you, father!” Even Aegon the fourth chimes in, with a loud approving babble.
“I love you too.” Aegon tells his children, wrapping his arms around them.
“I think if no one is kind to you, we ought to go back home.” Visera whispers to him. “It needn’t be the way of things.”
“Too right you are, my darling.” Y/N breathes.
“Y/N, might I have a word with you?” Rhaenyra calls out to the courtyard.
“Of course, your grace,” she smiles, looking to her children. “Keep father company for me. I’ll return shortly.”
Rhaenyra leads her farther into the gardens. “When you were a girl, your grandsire and I would bring you here to watch the changing of the leaves.”
“I remember.” Y/N says, wistfully.
“I owe you an apology,” Rhaenyra takes her hands. “For many years, I thought Aegon stole you away from me. I blamed him, for the death of our father.”
“It was not his fault, mother.” Y/N insists, “I wanted a marriage for love.”
“I see that now.” Rhaenyra assures her. “He is a fine husband to you and a good father to your children. I should not have pushed so relentlessly to end your union.”
Y/N shakes her head, “all is forgiven.”
“Even in our years apart, you have remained my heir. As I believe you would be a great ruling Queen, if that is what you desire. I will provide your children places of high status in court. For Aegon, a seat at the small council.” Rhaenyra offers, “and of course, my sincere apology for the way I have acted.”
“You wish for us to stay?”
Rhaenyra cups her cheek, “very much so.”
Y/N looks down at her wedding ring. “I know Alicent has been unkind to him. I will not stay in a place where he’s treated poorly.”
“I will speak with her.”
“And…I fear Aegon holds little interest in the small council.” Y/N admits, “I hope that too is negotiable.”
I do wonder tho how long do you think daeron will realize bc his sibling ain't sneaking to his room wearing her prettiest night clothing, kissing him,and asking to be held for nothing 😭
Where She Rests
Daeron the Drunken Targaryen X F!Sister!Reader
warnings: drinking, targcest, a girl who knows what she wants!
wc: 500
a/n: short Drabble based on these asks 1 & 2
“It wasn’t fair that father sent you away from the feast.”
Daeron did not even hear you enter his chambers. Likely because of how drunk he already was from the brief bit of the feast he had attended.
“I stole away some of your favorite, the red.” You hold it out some as your brother turns to look at you. His eyes diverting to one of the loungers near the door, your cloak cask over it.
“it’s late?”
“yes it is…but I can’t sleep.” You inform him, pausing to slip your feet out of the sandals before stepping onto the fur rug and bringing the flagon of wine over to him. “I assumed you would not yet be asleep either.” You pressed a kiss to his stubby cheek “it seems I was correct, again.”
“aye, it seems you are.” He took the wine and filled up his cup. Now that you were so close he could see the details of your lace lined slip. It was a slip more than a nightgown. This would hardly keep you warm in bed.
“Can I sleep here?” You fiddle with the lace and bat your eyes at him. It wasn’t in his nature to deny you. His sister, his first sister. He’d begged his mother after she had Aerion to please make the next one be a girl. When you were born he could recall your mother telling him that he had asked for a sister, that it was his job to look after you now.
“You’ve slept on the lounger all week.” He sighed. Attempting to persuade you to rest comfortably in your own rooms.
“then let me sleep here-“ you sat on the edge of his bed, hands gliding over the soft sheets. They smelled like him. It made your head feel dizzy.
“I won’t be subjected to a sore back because mine own bed was occupied.” He grumbled finishing his cups.
“They you lay here as well.” You shrugged and leaned back getting comfortable against the pillows. “You’ll keep me warm too.” You hummed slipping under the blankets and pressing your cheek into his pillow. “Please.” You rolled over to look at him when he did not instantly join you. “Brother, come, lay.” He finished the rest of a flagon before joining you. Before he dared to touch your soft hair, or feel the spot where your slip had pulled up and exposed some of your upper leg. Even just feeling that. A part of you that was new to him. Had the drunken man growing shamefully hard.
“Finally.” You smirk, moving your face to rest against his chest and your hand that had been placed against his stomach began to move lower. Fingers trailing through the line of hair that connected his stomach to his cock. Your hand was eager enough in its movement that Daeron realized belatedly that you’d been tempting him to reach this moment for the past few weeks.
