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hazelfoureyes · 3 months

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The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)

I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.

It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time

tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b

When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.

It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆

Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!

I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.

The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.

Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.

And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.

“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.

“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”

“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.

Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”

“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”

Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”

Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.

Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”

“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.

“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”

Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”

Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”

Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.

What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.

“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.

“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”

He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.

"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.

“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."

Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”

“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”

He sighed, “I’m not.”

Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”

He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”

“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.

Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.

With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.

With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.

His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.

His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”

This is ridiculous.

Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.

Nothing.

"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.

He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.

He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.

Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.

After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.

So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.

It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.

Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.

In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.

But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.

Still.

He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.

He held his breath, unconsciously.

With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.

"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."

Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.

Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.

"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.

But today, they were soft and out of focus.

"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.

"Am I dreaming?"

He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."

"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"

Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.

Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.

"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."

He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"

You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.

"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.

A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.

“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.

“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.

You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”

His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.

"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.

"When was your last time, mon cher?"

Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."

"You're in hell now."

"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.

"Look at me."

Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.

With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.

Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.

He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?

Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.

He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."

Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.

He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.

A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.

"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.

He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.

No.

Not enough.

Too soon.

A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.

He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.

When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.

Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.

He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.

"My doe?"

Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"

"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."

The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.

"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.

Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"

Suddenly, silence.

The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"

"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.

"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.

"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"

Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.

"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"

"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."

"Yet..." She cocked her brow.

"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."

Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"

"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.

She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"

His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."

He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.

But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?

"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."

Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.

For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.

To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.

He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.

Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.

The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.

One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.

You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.

And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.

Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.

He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.

When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”

༻Masterlist༺

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hiraya-rawr · 2 years

Text

little star — diluc 。

synopsis!! everyone knows the creator doesn't favor diluc (everyone is wrong).

cw !! gn reader, reader is peak diluc simp 😐 somewhat self-aware characters, mild sagau themes (not too much), reader is recognized as the player, reader is a little shy at first. angst with reverse comfort!

note !! the plot feels a little everywhere but i tried to organize it as best as i can, i think i got carried away eheh honestly doesn't feel up to my standards but it was pretty enjoyable to write

word count !! 2.8k something

"No, it's definitely Outrider Amber, she was the first to ever be favored."

"Are you kidding me? Outrider Amber may be the first, but sir Kaeya was definitely loved. Have you seen the sword he was gifted with?" One growls.

"It's the Acting Grand Master Jean!" Someone slams the table with his beer mug, "Twice was she bestowed with fallen stars of gold."

"I'd say that wolf boy in the woods seem lucky."

"It has to be Bennett. I don't know why but that kid has two crowns! Two!"

"You're all missing out on Miss Lisa!"

"Stop, stop! You rowdy drunks! Every vision holder in Mond has been granted favor, this is just impossible to decide!"

There was a pause. "Well. . . not every." Someone mumbles under their breath.

"Not every? Who's the poor allogene that couldn't even get the Player's favo—" Shushing sounds break his sentence, the men glare at their companion, pointing to the redhead behind the bar.

It's useless, really.

Diluc has been listening in the entire time. He can't really help it when their voices were loud enough to reach where he stood. Still, he was merciful and pretended not to hear. He's not exactly bothered by what they're saying. It was the truth, after all.

For two years, vision holders all around Teyvat were being granted favor.

It often begins with a meteor shower gracing the sky.

A star gently falling into the hands of a vision holder, embracing them in warm light.

They call the ethereal sensation as something akin to "coming home".

The favored would then be given different things; quality weapons, enhanced abilities, beautiful crowns— Some allogenes were even gifted summer apparel (Mondstadt is proud that their Gunnhildr sisters were one of the very first). Even their equipped wings would change into ornamented works of art!

It's been two years, and it seems like every allogene he knows of has received the Player's grace.

He supposed he just wasn't favored. It isn't too difficult to believe that he isn't likable.

He convinces himself it's fine.

It's fine if his summoned weapon is a cheap claymore made of scrap metal. It's still efficient to have the extra blade while he manually carries around another claymore (commissioned from Wagner as the best money could buy). Or that his abilities can only be improved through hardwork, unlike the many who broke the limits of their power through your favor.

It's fine.

As the bar goers leave for the night, as Venti and Kaeya wave around their almost divine-looking five-star weapons to show the crowd, and as he's closing up the tavern and retreating to his upstair quarters for comfort, he convinces himself that the he'll be okay on his own.

•

The arrival of the Creator was festive and grand; The day the sky parted itself and glowed as the brightest of all stars fell with grace into Mondstadt's very own Windrise.

Teyvat rejoices in the ecstatic ideal of being loved.

A meeting of vision holders was quickly held in the Cathedral, discussing immediate plans as some of the most favored (Venti, Jean, Kaeya, Albedo to name a few) went ahead to fetch the Creator from the large tree.

While Diluc was often the center of any other meeting due to his authority and influence, this was something he chose to step back from. Standing by the windows, away from the meeting, he watched on as Eula and the rest conversed around the circular table.

He isn't even sure why he's invited. Perhaps they felt it was obligatory for vision holders, regardless of favorability? Then again, he could always offer a fraction of his mountain-loads of wealth to help with the festivities.

At least he's competent at being a wallet.

As the others pull out their crowns and stars, weapons and artifacts, eager to thank the one responsible for the gifts, an unknown emotion bubbles in his stomach. It's faint, but it's there.

He tries to look away.

"Everyone, everyone! They're entering the gates!" Fischl announces uncharacteristically to the room as her eye glows brightly, undoubtedly looking through Oz's eyes from the sky.

"We should wait by the statue to welcome them, right?" Barbara chirps in, hands clasped and wavy hair bouncing with every step.

Diluc watches as people steadily leave the room, following last as they walk down the steps to greet the approaching group. Some civilians gathered to see the scene, others didn't really understand what a Player or Creator was to a vision holder, while Diluc—

Diluc stood by the steps to see them crowd around you.

You, surrounded with words of gratitude and cheerful squeals. He sees the smile on your face and feels relief that you don't seem too overwhelmed.

He leaves the area without a second thought.

•

He doesn't exactly see you around the next few days. With Mondstadt celebrating a new festival, the taverns were always full and busy with customers (both local and foreign). You were probably busy too, spending time with the different allogenes and entertaining those who came from Liyue to meet you. He's heard of a funeral consultant with three crowns (are consultants that admirable of a job to you?) and an adeptus gifted with various five-star polearms (this was understandable for the adepti, unlike the consultant).

He doesn't expect to see you at all until you leave for the next nation, honestly.

That is, until the tavern settles into a more peaceful atmosphere and Jean rushes in with several other allogenes. It's unusual to see his childhood friend in the tavern; still, he greets her amicably and asks what brings her here.

"(Name) will be coming here soon with Kaeya and a few others. It's a little impromptu, but we were hoping for a place to settle in with drinks. Perhaps try some apple cider." She smiles, taking a seat by the bar.

(Name)? Jean was already on a first name basis with the Creator?

Diluc thinks perhaps Jean truly is the favorite, she does have a few golden stars in her home.

Somehow, it's not surprising at all to know that his apple cider was famous enough to drag you in. At least there's something about the Dawn Winery in your favor. He promptly gets his employees to work, clearing a few tables near the bar, rearranging the furniture to give space good enough for a group.

Your entrance into the bar was just as lively; with your favored allogenes chatting away with you, everyone falling into place at different parts of the tavern, ordering drinks and meals.

He's glad you enjoy apple cider.

•

You're trying to play it cool, really. Trying your best not to get overexcited and glomp everyone and everything.

You're taking things step by step as you converse with Jean, Lisa, and Albedo; as you share meals with Barbara and Sucrose; as you play with Klee and Diona; tour the city with Fischl and Bennett. There's plenty of time to meet everyone and your schedule has been filled to the brim with all the fun your having.

You'll see that glimpse of red hair again— one that was lingering by the Cathedral staircase. Diluc doesn't like crowds, so it's fine that he isn't approaching you. It's also fine that he hasn't visited at least once, unlike the several raging from Liyue to Sumeru who took the journey to meet you early.

Diluc is too busy a person to meet you; whether it's because of the winery or his darknight hero duties, you wouldn't dare take his time.

— but when are you supposed to give him all the gifts you've brought for him???

Your determination to build him up in one go, from Talent levels to Constellations to Artifacts and Weaponry, all came down to this moment — and the man was simply nowhere to be seen!

An unknowingly loud sigh escapes your lips, catching the attention of the Cavalry Captain next to you.

"Now, what's got our (Name) so down in the dumps?" Kaeya hums, glancing at your face as you stutter a response.

"Aah it's not that, it's just. . ."

Your brother is too busy, I just want to meet him!!

"I'm thirsty." You deflect, looking around for a stall. The streets of Mond were nothing like the minimized version you see in the game; with the city being ten times larger than what you remembered it to be.

"Oh! Oh! Klee suggests apple cider!" The little girl giggles, running around your legs in excitement, "Angel's Share is nearby and big brother Albedo alwaaays takes me there for apple cider!"

Angel's Share. Bartender. A great idea has appeared!

At the excited look on your face, Jean walks up ahead of you.

"Why don't I go and inform the tavern to prepare us a space first, it would save us the waiting time."

"That would be great, Jean!"

•

You hope you aren't being too obvious.

With the way your eyes would linger on him, casting side glances and hoping he would greet you to strike up a conversation, the way most allogenes do. You didn't want to abruptly disturb his work, nor do you want seem desperate, so you waited for his initiative.

Yet, Diluc lingers just a little outside your group's circle. Your food and drinks were refilled by Charles, you've talked with nearly everyone but the person you want to talk to.

"It's getting pretty late, we should head home for the night." Someone suggests.

What?

No!

"Hm? Do you still have something in mind?" Kaeya asks. You realized you said it out loud, catching the attention of nearby patrons.

With a frantic glance around the tavern, your eyes make contact with Diluc's. He pauses as well, wondering what caused your little outburst.

You are definitely not leaving, not when you don't know when you could catch Diluc in his free time again! You'd be leaving for Liyue by then!

Hands slamming the table to stand up and with a small burst of courage, you approach the bartender who turns away from Charles. He raises an eyebrow at your approach. It's odd the way you feel flustered and nervous, finally facing him.

Pausing just in front of him, he looks on curiously.

"Would you like a refill?" He asks.

"A-ah no, I mean, yes but that's not why I'm here. I. . ." You stutter, stumbling over your words as you try not to behave awkwardly. Should you start with a casual topic?

"You seem to be quite busy." You say.

Diluc blinks. He isn't sure what you're implying. Neither is Kaeya or Jean, who stopped to look at the exchange of words.

"I suppose. . . but as a winery, we do thrive in impromptu festivities." He replies curtly before realizing, was it rude that he never visited the Creator?

"Ah, is it my lack of visit? I apologize, I would have visited but it seems that you were quite satisfied with your favorites and-"

"No, no, no," You wave your hand, cutting him off, "I understand you're busy. You don't have to visit at all! How could I take your time— wait," You pause, recalling his words.

"Favorites?" You tilt your head, "What do you mean I seemed satisfied with my favorites? What do you mean by favorites?"

"Your favorites... allogenes who received your favor. Those you have granted gifts."

Your jaw laxes. Favorites? They decided you play favorites based on how much you've built them?

"You think. . ." You say carefully, not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings, "That I offer gifts to my favorites?"

Diluc nods slowly, unsure of your questioning.

Although it would be a lie to say you didn't have your personal favorites, it would still be inaccurate that it's based on gifts. After all, you built everyone who came home by chance. As an avid player, you did your best to farm and push everyone to their full potential.

Diluc, however, never came home no matter how much you wanted him to. It can't be possible that he doesn't know how much he is loved, right?

"Then what about you?" You blurt out, "How do you think I view you?"

He stares at you oddly. At this point, many around you had stopped to tune in. Everyone knew Master Diluc never received your favor, so why are you conversing with him?

Meanwhile, Diluc wonders if you want him to admit it. Must he say it in front of everyone how he never received gifts?

"I suppose. . . I'm not one of them. It's quite understandable. I don't intend to question your judgement—"

"What?" You exclaim, a look of shock crosses your face, "You think I don't like you?" Voice raised in disbelief, you feel the eyes of many turning to watch the scene.

Diluc mirrors your confusion.

"I can't believe you would– no, that isn't it at all!" You stutter over your words, a frantic need to prove him wrong goes through you, "You— you of all people!"

"Me?" He repeats.

"I've always wanted you!"

A silence settles over the tavern. Did you have to put it so bluntly? You freeze in shock at your own words. Diluc's expression of disbelief turns flustered, face turning as red as his hair.

Explain yourself.

"I- I mean, I've always wanted you to come home. Ever since the start, really! It's just that you never did-"

"Hmm... so it implies that it's out of your control, correct?" Kaeya piqued, looking on curiously. He's been listening in the entire time. You nod your head.

"Yes! It's a game of chance for me as well. It's not to say that favor is an accident, I truly wanted everyone to come home! It's just that—" You turn to Diluc, "You never did, no matter how much I wanted you to. How was I supposed to give you your gifts?"

Diluc snaps out of his shock, blinking at you, "Gifts?"

"Yes, gifts! I've been saving them up for you, ever since the start." You pause, shyly looking away, "When I said I wanted you since the beginning I meant it. I came here for you, after all."

He looks at you in disbelief, and probably half the tavern as well. You can't help the small chuckle from your lips. With an outstretched hand, something materializes between you. It glows a blinding golden light, before settling to reveal–

"Wolf's Gravestone. It's a weapon for you."

You didn't have to say it— anyone with eyes could see how it was practically made for Diluc. With large handles and a color scheme that matches his own, Wolf's gravestone doesn't look as divine or ethereal as the other weapons you've gifted, but it looked just as powerful, if not menacing.

With a gesture, Diluc grips the handle.

"Fits like a glove." Kaeya whistles, impressed. As does the rest of the tavern who stopped to stare.

Suddenly, flames burst forth from the weapon. It sears and glows red. Unlike the common claymore that can't handle the the prowess of Diluc's flames, Wolf's Gravestone embraces it. Like an extension of his own hand.

He breaks his gaze away from the weapon to look at you.

"Thank you. . ." He mutters softly, but it's genuine. You smile.

"That's not the last of it, you know."

"What?"

With another flick of your hand, artifacts and talent books materialize. They flow around him like a dance as more and more begin to appear, lighting up the tavern like the night sky.

"I told you I brought gifts!"

All the days spent farming for him and other pyro characters finally paid off. The glimmering artifacts reflected in his own red eyes as he stares, entranced.

Favor did not come to him in meteor showers like it did to the other allogenes; rather, it came to him in your form. Proof of him being loved. The spectacle continued— after the artifacts and talent levels were the constellation (the crowd ooh'ed and aah'ed at the sight), then came the five star apparel (a nostalgic sight to him, and it changed his flames to a darker red), and the ascension materials you passed off as trinkets.

By the end of it, he had a hand over his lower face, his red bangs hid just the ends of his eyes. "I just thought I wasn't that favorable. . ." He muttered and you leaned in to peek at his covered face, wondering why he was shying away.

But it was evident to the tavern— the pink dusted ears, the flushed cheeks, and the overwhelming emotion in his eyes. Diluc Ragnvindr was flustered, and it's a sight enough to make even the drunks place down their beers for a closer look.

You bit your lip, trying to prevent the widest of smiles, "Do you believe yourself loved now?" You ask and he gives the faintest of nods.

"Thank you," He says, "For favoring me."

m.list 2 || consider supporting me on ko-fi ! || sagau m.list

note !! THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE a very short brainrot that became a fic huhuhuhu

I don't often write creator sagau themes but here we are! this is like peak diluc simpery idk ive never been this down for a man. i wrote this immediately after getting his skin i just got so excited 😅 I wanted to spoil him so bad (but i gave all his mats to thoma before he came home :< )

taglist !! @absolut-wildflower @boundedbyfate @sadlonelybagel @eissaaaa @ladycoleigh @nejibot @milkypompon @bloodreaper08 @irethepotato @x-zho @roriver @mich-cola @mxsomn @ackrylik @nicebonescomrade @starforecasts @stygianoir @yuminako @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nebulaera @nuttytani @klutzkat @shizunxie

8K notes · View notes

asumofwords · 8 months

Text

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Angst, death, mourning, funeral, fluff, smut, daddy kink, breath play, spanking, slapping, fingering, face fucking, degradation, gagging, deep throating, dumbification, edging, creampie, crying, dacryphilia, dirty talking, name calling, rough handling, sadomasochist, sadism, spitting, spitplay, squirt, the correct method of choking, drugs (weed), alcohol, smoking.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Another monstrous chapter sitting at 10+k, because when I said this series was going to only be 15 chapters I meant it hahaha. Goodness, gracious me, here we are. We have come to the end of this series! Thank you so much for all your love and support this whole way through! I hope that you have enjoyed it, and I hope I did the ending some sort of realistic justice. I shall be getting onto my requests now hehehe, anyway, ENJOY! <3

Final Chapter: Stay

Waking that morning, you had not expected to be met with what you were. You had thought that the day would be spent with some awkward, uncertain glances cast Aemond’s way, with the others casting theirs towards you both. Then perhaps you would talk again.

Or fuck.

Or both.

Your little traitorous brain hoped for both.

But no, that's not what you woke up to that morning. You woke up to a nightmare come true. And although all had prepared for it for years, and in fact, the reason why all were back at the Red Keep, it still came as a bombshell that shook the family to its very core.

Viserys was dead.

Gone peacefully in his sleep, found by none other than his doting eldest daughter and wife.

You had woken to the bedroom door shutting, a peak of Criston Cole’s hair in the crack of the door. Helaena stood frozen by it, swaying slightly on her feet before she walked over to the bed and sat down, staring at the far wall.

“Hel?” You sat up, hand coming to touch your best friends shoulder, “What's happened?”

Fear of the unknown settled into your gut.

Her lavender eyes turned to you.

“He’s dead.”

The Keep was in disarray.

Rhaenyra and Daemon were in shambles, having lost a father and brother all in one. It was a most terrible thing to witness. You felt grief yourself for your friends, and for the family as a whole as they moved through the motions of his death, his leaving of their worlds. You felt akin to an invasive species as you sat amongst them, foreign, displaced, unfitting in their neat yet disturbed world.

Lucerys and Jacerys were grieving with their mother and step-father, the twins joining them. As for the other children of Viserys? That was another story.

Amongst the four of them, there was not a single tear shed for their father, bar Aegon in the early light of the morning, stained cheeks hidden in the shadows, red rimmed eyes, and a tiredness that no young man should have at his age, pulling down at his shoulders. But he had swallowed it quickly and quietly as he had for his whole life and went outside to smoke.

You couldn’t however account for Aemond, as he was nowhere to be seen.

Sitting in the gazebo with the three silver haired siblings, you tried to offer condolences, a shoulder to cry on if needed, but all were content to grieve in their own way; Aegon smoking yet another joint, Daeron texting someone animatedly, and Helaena, simply staying quiet and composed beside you.

It wasn’t what you had expected for people to have just lost their father, but you supposed that everyone grieves in their own ways, theirs being much different to your own.

Helaena stood from where she had sat, dressed in all black, something you had not once seen her wear, a stark change to the bright colours that she usually donned. Perhaps this was her way of showing her grief. Her mourning.

Her loss.

“Walk with me.” She said quietly, and you nodded, jumping up as you grasped her hand, letting her lead you down the garden to look at the various plants and trees that were in a part of a gated garden entrance.

Greenery of all sizes, shapes, and colours grew beautifully, small little plaques beneath identifying their scientific name. The Red Keep's garden had some of the rarest of flowers and trees in the whole of the realm. It even had the famed Winter Rose’s from the North in a special greenhouse that kept them in below freezing temperatures.

It was still early in the day, the sun only just rising to its peak as you walked together in silence, your hand in hers as you followed her lead, looking at the shrubs and immense show of wealth. If it weren’t for the reason of your walk, you would have been more animated upon seeing some rare and beautiful orchids, perfectly potted and healthy.

Your steps crunched along the cobblestoned path, twisting around to an extended part of the estate that you hadn’t been to. There, in front of you, was a most beautiful sight to behold.

Ruby red leaves sprouted out of ashen branches, twisting upwards towards the sky.

A Weirwood tree.

And a very old one by the looks of it.

“The Godswood.” Helaena explained to you, taking you closer to it.

You were so entranced by its incredible beauty, thinking of how Cregan's description of his back home didn't do it justice, that you hadn’t even noticed the man that sat amongst its roots, leant back on the trunk.

Aemond Targaryen sat beneath the branches and leaves of a tree that had been a symbol of the Old Gods to his family for hundreds of years. One leg was stretched out in front of him, whilst the other was bent, his long arms crossed over the top of his knee lazily.

He watched you as you came towards him, words caught in your throat.

The light that peaked through the tips of the branches shimmered down on his pale hair, causing it to glimmer with each parting of the leaves from the breeze that rolled through. His face looked flat, emotionless.

Blank.

Helaena’s hand slipped away from yours and you turned to look at her. She gave you a soft smile, before she walked away without a word, leaving you in the small Godswood courtyard with her brother.

You stood for a moment or two, the both of you watching each other before your legs pulled you towards him. You moved to sit beside the long limbed man, pulling your knees up to your chest as you kept your eyes straight ahead, not wanting to make him feel overcrowded, or as if he was being observed. Instead, you hoped that your presence was, at least, the tiniest bit of comfort if he needed it.

You weren’t sure what to do or say as you sat together, both staring off into the distance as the soft rustling of leaves moved overhead. If not for the death that had occurred in the early hours of the morning, the day would have been beautiful.

It was like that for a while, just the both of you. Basking in each others company silently, and yet you felt the need to do more. To say more. To show him more. To show him that you cared, to try and rebuild that bridge that had been torched between the two of you, in the way he had attempted to last night.

You felt guilt knowing that he would have woken up to not only an empty bed, but the news of the death of his father in a Keep he didn’t want to be in, surrounded by people he so desperately tried to avoid.

Tendons and veins pulled beneath the skin of Aemond pale hand as he rubbed a thumb and forefinger together atop his knee.

It was always his hands. Something you had learned rather quickly about him. His hands always moved when in thought, when irritated, lost, or angry.

Any strong emotion caused the man to fidget.

It was a habit that he shared with Helaena, no doubt inherited by their mother.

With no other way to convey what you were feeling, you lifted your hand and placed it atop his. His hand was warm, and twitched beneath yours. Aemond, without wasting a second, flipped his over and held onto yours tightly, threading his fingers through yours atop his knee.

Silence stretched forever until-

“I don’t mourn him.” Aemond’s voice moved with the breeze, soft and quiet, gently carried away from the courtyard, and you felt a pull of sorrow for him deep within your chest.

“We weren’t ever close. Cole was more a father to me than him.” There was a hollowness to his words which you would argue was grief, until he continued, “I don’t grieve the man he was, I grieve the father he could have been to me. The father he should have been to me. Something that I never had.”

Tears prickled in your eyes for him.

Gods.

Why had life been so cruel to this man?

A soft chuckle floated from his lips, a stark difference to his demeanour before, “I used to try so hard to impress him when I was young. Studied, learnt our traditional tongue before any of my other siblings did, and even then, it wasn’t enough for him. I was never enough for him. He was sick, yes,” Frustration bled from his shoulders, tense and closed in, “But he had more time for them than us.”

There was the anger.

Sorrow.

Spite.

Aemond Targaryen had felt he had been in his nephews shadow his whole life.

And it showed.

“It was worse for Aegon. First son and all. A shiny new toy for Viserys before his expectations became too high for Egg and he rebelled. Then nothing he would do could impress the man.”

You squeezed his hand tightly, shuffling across the hard roots of the tree to get closer to him, leaning your shoulder heavily against his, so he could feel your weight, so he could feel the heat of your body. To comfort him, to be there for him, all while not being smothering.

“I’m sorry, Aemond.”

He shook his head, long strand of silver falling over his shoulder as he looked at you, “Don’t be.”

Silence fell over you again, and you watched as a lone red leaf, pointed sides and all, slowly drifted from above the two of you down onto the grassy ground below. It swooped from side to side, spinning gently before soundlessly falling amongst green blades.

You didn’t want him to be alone.

You didn’t want him to feel isolated.

And in your restless, sleepless night, you had thought about him.

“It’s going to be okay.” You whispered, and watched as he turned his head to look back at you, his lone eye searching your face.

Your thumb soothed over his gently, your words having more than one meaning.

His bottom lip was pulled into his mouth by his teeth, and then his voice came up and out from deep within his chest as he gazed at you intensely, clouded eye unmoving, and the sun shining down onto his scarred side of his face.

“Stay.” He asked you for the very first time.

A stark opposite to all the times you had uttered that word to him.

Asked him to stay with you.

It was first time he spoke that four lettered word to you, beneath the crimson leaves of the ancient Godswood in a home that he had grown in.

You heeded his request.

Together, you sat beneath the branches and looked up through them, side by side in a wordless promise to each other.

Stay.

The next few days were a whirlwind. The funeral was held on the grounds of the estate, people from all over flying in to say their goodbyes to the patriarch of House Targaryen.

At first you had asked Helaena if you could go back home, not wanting to intrude on her families grief, but she had insisted, no, begged for you to stay for the funeral.

And so you had.

It was an intense and sad ordeal, but not once did you leave Helaena or Aemond’s side. You stuck by them both, and he always came to you.

Crossing the kitchen to come to you. Crossing the dining table outside to come to you. Crossing the hall to come to Helaena’s room and sit on the bed with the two of you, happy to be just in your presence and not say a thing.

Aegon had silently cried at the funeral. The only child of Alicent to do so. You had watched as fat tears rolled down his rosy cheeks, eyes cast at the coffin of his father, as his mother stood stoically beside him.

Alicent Hightower had cried softly when she had read the eulogy, then followed by Rhaenyra and Daemon's. It was the only time that you felt you would ever see the pair look out of their usual controlled demeanour.

After the funeral, there was the service, where all came to Rhaenyra and Alicent to offer their condolences, the two women standing side by side in all black. At one point, you had watched as Alicent’s pinky reached out, searching for Rhaenyra’s hand. It had curled against the other woman’s, and you watched as the other tilted her head slightly in shock, before she made a larger move, and curled her hand directly around the auburn haired woman’s beside her.

It was days after the funeral before all of you were back together again, side by side.

It had been a long day, longer than the last, and the night had bled into the sky in a deep purple before turning to its deeper shade of blue. Aegon had done rounds, going to each and every room to tell all to meet him down at the pool for some well needed drinks.

Aemond had been sat at Helaena’s vanity watching the two of you sit on the bed and softly giggle at a message Sara had sent her, your silver haired friend more intent on moving forward than looking back.

Hand in Helaena’s, you led her and Aemond down to the pool, not bothering to put swimmers on.

It was dark outside, the usual lights strung about the garden having been turned off, the only source of light coming from the moon, the stars, and the smaller lights that edged around the pools perimeter.

The others were already there, you having seemingly been the last pitstop, passing around popped bottles of champagne, wine and beer. There was the sweet, dank smell of Aegon’s weed again in the air, the short haired man leant back on his elbows as he looked up at the sky, bottle of Moët in one hand.

It was awkward at first, what with Jacaerys and Aemond’s outburst the last time you were all together before the funeral, but before long, and with the help of your trusty liquid courage, all seemed to melt into the numb feeling that the alcohol brought them.

You laid back in one of the armchairs, Helaena, between your legs, head resting on your stomach as you brushed the silver strands away from her face as she looked up at the stars. Aemond watched from beside you, having pulled over one of the other poolside chairs.

The twins, and the brown haired boys were sat at the waters edge with Aegon, their legs dangling into the pool as they swung them softly back and forth, drinking and talking quietly amongst themselves.

Daeron, having disappeared for a moment, came back with his speaker, softly playing music through it to fill the gentle quiet that surrounded you all.

It was soft, calm, and peaceful enough for such a tumultuous time, and as the night got longer, and bottles of alcohol became drained, blunts were passed, and inhibitions were lowered, smiles and laughter were shared amongst all.

Even Aemond.

But that stillness was disturbed when the tipsy, brown haired Lucerys stood and faced everyone, bottle of red wine in hand. The smiles dissipated, and a serious energy floated amongst everyone again.

“I want to make a toast.” The young man said with drunken confidence, thrusting out the wine bottle towards Aegon, “To Viserys.”

Jacaerys lifted his beer towards his younger brother, the twins following suit with their cans of fruity mixer.

Lucerys’ eyes fell on Aemond, before his lips pulled down solemnly, turning away to roam his gaze on everyone else, “He wasn’t a perfect man-”

Aemond quietly scoffed beside you.

“-But if it wasn’t for him, none of us would be here.”

Aegon hummed in agreement, sipping deeply from his almost empty bottle of Moët.

Lucerys’s gaze fell to you as he scratched the back of his neck, “Except you, Y/n. You’d still be here. Well, not here here. But you’d still-“

“-Alright, move it on.” Baela joked lovingly at him as he began to ramble.

Straightening his posture, Luc thrust his wine up to the sky, “To Viserys.”

All lifted their drinks up to toast, bar Aemond, hands bringing wine to their lips, beer to their mouths, or champagne to their tongues. You offered Aemond a small, sad smile, and he returned it, sipping at his beer in thought.

It wasn’t a full toast per-say like the others, but he drank in the mans honour regardless.

A large palm opened up towards you, pale fingers lazily spread in offering. You looked at his long digits, signet ring on one.

“Come here.” Aemond hummed, gentle look in his eye.

Helaena pulled herself from your lap and looked at her brother, “I thought you’d never ask!” She chirped playfully, and he rolled his eye at her.

A small giggle fell from your lips as you looked at his hand again. Still outstretched towards you in front of everyone.

In front of everyone.

Your heart raced in your chest as you stood, placing your hand in his, the warmth of his palm spreading up your arm as you moved over to Aemond, who pulled you between his long legs in a similar way you had done with Helaena. His legs were bent on either side of you with your back against his chest. You felt his chin dip to rest at the top of your head, and a warmth spread through your chest like wildfire.

Helaena smiled at your warmly as Aegon craned his neck backwards to look at the two of you.

“How long has this been going on?” He teased, glassy eyes narrowing on the both of you.

Lucerys, who had sat back down beside his brother after his toast, turned around with Jacaerys to observe. And when their heads turned, the others followed.

Heat rose in your cheeks and you felt a sudden shyness at it all. The urge to hide was strong.

But really, what was this?

You didn’t know.

But it was something.

Something more than before.

But still, you didn’t have an answer, so you moved to respond.

“Oh, we’re n-“

“-A while. I was just a dick about it.” Aemond interrupted you, and your heart soared.

Did he -

Did he just-

Did he just confirm your thoughts?

Did he just validate your feelings?

Answer all your burning questions that had kept you awake at night?

A while.

That implied that this was more.

That this had always been more.

That this was solid.

That this was-

“So that’s why you wouldn’t fuck me.” Aegon pouted, smirk pulling at his lips.

Aemond sighed heavily behind you, “That and the fact that you’re utterly repulsive.”

Aegon’s mouth dropped open as he stared at his brother, “You wound me! I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who haven’t found me repulsive.”

“Too many, if you ask me.” Helaena snickered.

Aegon flicked his joint at his sister, standing straight as he looked down at everyone.

“Good thing I didn't ask you. I’ll have you know I’m polyglamourous.” Hands on his hips.

“Polyamorous.” Daeron corrected his brother.

Aegon grinned, victory in his cheeks, “I meant what I said.”

Aemond’s hand rubbed up and down your thigh soothingly as the night moved on, goosebumps rising on your flesh with each stroke of his long fingers. His chest was warm against your back, and you felt that you could fall asleep from where you were.

Helaena squealed at her phone loudly, breaking you from your fatigued thoughts.

“What is it?” You turned to face her, watching as a large grin pulled at her lips.

“Sara got us tickets to see the Phantom of the Opera!”

“What!”

“Yes!” She shook her phone in her hand whilst she screamed in excitement, “I can’t believe she remembered!”

Aemond chuckled from behind you, chest vibrating against your back, “Of course she'd remember. She’s in love with you.”

Your best friend suddenly became shy, a blush rising on her cheeks rapidly, turning them a bright red that even in the darkness of the night, you could see, “I know that. I just can’t believe it.”

“I’m jealous. Ask her where my ticket is.” You teased, “So I guess this means I’ll be seeing more of Sara again?”

Helaena gave you a knowing smirk, and you gave her one right back.

You were happy for her.

Really happy.

They were perfect for each other. And you always knew that they would get back together again. That and Helaena always told you so, and Helaena was never wrong.

Aegon having come round to where you sat, snatched his sisters bottle of Prosecco, downing the remainder in one gulp, a refreshed and exaggerated gasp filling the air as he ruffled her hair, a growl and swat of a hand coming for his arm which he dodged last second.

Aegon giggled, running around the rim of the pool, shoes kicked in one direction, socks thrown in the other, shirt torn from his back in one yank, and then came his pants. Your eyes widened as Aegon stripped himself nude before jumping into the pool with a yell.

He emerged from the cool water with a flick of his wet hair laughing, sending a hand splashing towards the twins and he smiled, “Come onnnn, live a little! Get in!”

Baela and Rhaena gave each other a shared look before standing, stripping themselves of their clothes before jumping in, hand in hand.

Before you knew it, you were all stripped bare, splashing about in the pool laughing and swimming around.

Even Aemond.

His cheeks were pulled taut by the grin plastered to his face as he swam towards you, tickling your sides as you screamed for backup from Baela and Rhaena, who swam towards you, a flurry of splashes and squeals until his large palms rose above the water and conceded.

Aegon pulled another spliff from the side of the pool and passed it around, and although it was dark, and you couldn’t see the details of anyones bodies, you still felt slightly shy in knowing that not only were you naked, but you were naked with a certain someone pressed up against your back.

At one point, you could have sworn you felt his cock twitch against the cheek of your ass, but you shrugged it off, going to the others as they tossed a ball like piggy in the middle back and forth, little Lucerys in the centre trying to jump up to catch it with all his might.

Eventually the water grew cold, and as you swam to sip at some of Baela’s drink, Aemond slid from behind you, hand wrapping around your waist. Heat spread through you as you felt him press up against you, mouth beside your ear.

“I think it's time for bed, don’t you?” He whispered hoarsely.

You bit your lip turning your head to try and sneak a peak at him, but was interrupted by a loud and obnoxious wolf whistle.

Aegon grinned at you both, “No fucking in mummy’s pool.”

“Ugh, Aegon. What the fuck.” Helaena grimaced.

A laugh exploded from your lips as you turned to look at Aemond, who was chewing the inside of his cheek, desperate to hide the smirk that was rising on his face.

“Come on.” He urged you, tilting his head to outside of the pool.

You climbed out with his help, getting dressed, all the while Aegon continued to whistle at the two of you and make obscene noises. But it was short lived as Helaena pushed Aegon’s head under water with all her weight, Jacaerys and Luc clapping in laughter.

You saw this as your out and grabbed Aemond’s hand, racing him through the Keep in fits of giggles until you reached his room, anticipation strumming in your gut. You watched as he shut the door behind him, turning to face you. His hair was wet, much like yours, and he advanced on you slowly, energy bouncing around inside of you.

“Come here.” He beckoned you with a finger, soft smirk on his lips.

You shook your head at him cheekily, “Nuh uh.”

His head tilted as he looked at you, “Please.”

Your feet carried you towards him, a magnetic pull dragging your chest to his. He smiled warmly down at you, cupping your cheek with one hand as the other dragged a wet strand of hair away from your face.

“Beautiful.” He praised you, before dipping his head down to kiss you.

Aemond bent slightly as your arms wrapped around his neck, large hands wrapping around your thighs as he hoisted you up into his arms, carrying you towards the bed as you didn’t once break the kiss.

It wasn’t hurried like the last time.

It wasn’t frenzied.

This time, you took your time with each other.

Aemond stripped you of your wet clothes and brought you to your peak on his tongue, his name whispered from your mouth like a prayer. He hovered above you as he slid in, watching the way your mouth opened and brows furrowed at the stretch, his lips pressing sweet kisses to the side of your face as he slowly moved through your folds, the tip of his cock rubbing against every point within you.

“So fucking beautiful.” He praised you as you fell apart once again on his cock, walls gripping his length tightly as you keened and whined, hands gripping the sheets for dear life as he smiled sweetly at you.

This was a side of Aemond you hadn’t seen before, and a side you hoped to see more.

He came with a quiet moan of your name, head dipping down into the crux of your neck as he planted kiss after kiss there.

You spent the rest of your night together curled in each others embrace, falling asleep with one word echoing in your mind.

Stay.

Waking up in a dark green and black room was disorientating at first, probably exacerbated by the steady strumming of a slight hangover in the back of your mind. But the warmth of two strong arms wrapped around you, and the familiar scent of Aemond that filled the space between, reminded you of where you were, and who you were with.

Your eyes opened as you looked up at him. His good eye still shut, chest rising and falling slowly.

Everything had happened so fast.

It was as if a match had been lit and set you both ablaze. The two of you burning together hotly, in more ways than one. Your tempers. Your stubbornness, but more importantly, your desire to be with one another.

It was different with him.

Unlike anyone else before.

Passionate.

Fiery.

All encompassing.

And you relished in it.

Relished in the fact that not only was it real, not only tangible, but Aemond had made it open last night as he had pulled you into his lap in front of everyone, and verbally confirmed what had been happening all along.

You weren’t ‘Helaena’s roommate’.

You were more.

You knew that now.

His confession for his love for you however, was something that the two of you would dissect on a later date. But right now? You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way. Didn’t feel the same pull in your heart towards him when he would smile, or laugh, or just look at you. Or how your body would be set alight with even just a touch of his hand.

Aemond Targaryen had you well and truly under his spell.

And there was no other place you’d rather be.

Aemond shifted beside you, eye blinking open sleepily before he looked down at you.

“Morning.” His voice crackled with sleep, mouth opening in a small yawn before he pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead.

Your heart raced in your chest.

“Morning.”

Aemond squeezed you to him tighter as he stretched out the fatigue in his limbs, a whiny grunt escaping his lips.

That was noise you hadn’t heard before.

He sounded content.

Comfortable.

Safe.

But there was still one final thing.

You wanted to be sure that last night wasn’t just a drunken little display, or a declaration emboldened by the grief around the others tainted by possessiveness against Jacaerys.

“What happens now?” You asked quietly, watching as he blinked at you again.

“Whatever happens, happens.” His voice was deep, lulling you into a calm, “But I know I want to be with you.”

Here it was.

“Are you sure?” Your eyes searched his face.

This was it.

His last chance to back out.

His last chance to say no.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You couldn’t contain the grin that creeped on your face, hands pulling him down into a relieved kiss, pouring your adoration and care for him into it as much as you could.

He returned it equally with fever.

Heat ran through you as you pressed yourself closer to him, gasping into his mouth as you felt his cock twitch against your thigh. Aemond groaned into the kiss but pulled away.

You looked at him in confusion.

“Come on, we got to have breakfast with the others.”

You whined, plopping back into the pillows with a huff, “I don’t want to.”

Aemond chuckled from beside you, sitting up in the bed as he ripped the sheets away from your body, exposing your naked form. You rolled over onto your stomach, hiding your face in the pillow as you whined.

Two light smacks landed on the cheek of your ass, and you cried out in surprise, “Come on, grumpy.” He teased, “I’ll give you what you want after. But first, we need to eat.”

At the promise of getting what you wanted, you rolled out of bed, begrudgingly, looking at your semi wet pile of clothes in disgust.

You could do a run down the hall to Helaena’s room, but you could also be spotted running nude through the estate, which to you, didn’t seem appropriate considering the funeral held there only a few days past.

Aemond must have noticed your predicament, “Here.” He came over to you, handing you one of his black shirts and those grey sweats you loved so much.

You threw them on, the top coming down to your mid thigh. The pants however, didn’t stay up, and kept sliding down your legs no matter how much you tightened the strings or rolled them at your hips.

Aemond laughed at you as you stepped out of the pants and threw them at him in a huff.

“I need pants.” You whined, searching his room.

“Would prefer it if you didn’t.” He raised a brow at you.

Your core clenched around nothing as you looked at him, his stance challenging you to obey.

So this is the game he wanted to play.

Smirking, you turned to the door, opening it up, “Come on. We will be late.”

You left without looking back, not getting to see the way Aemond’s tongue poked into his cheek, watching you trot out of his room clad in his shirt.

Only his shirt.

The others were seated at the table outside picking at the spread. They all greeted you both as you moved sit down, except Aegon, who’s head was in his arms atop the table as he groaned dramatically and loudly for all to hear.

“Is he alright?” You asked Helaena, watching as she rolled her eyes at her older brothers antics.

“He’s fine. He’s just a drama Queen.”

“Drama King.” He grumbled back.

You ate together for a while before catching Helaena’s attention, it wasn’t something you wished to do, but it was something you had to nonetheless.

You had to go home, and what was more, you had to go back to work.

“Hel, is Criston around today?” You asked, plopping a sweet piece of watermelon into your mouth.

“I think so. Mum’s home today. Why?” Her head leant against her hand as she twirled one of her dragonfly earrings in between her fingers.

“I have to go back to work. I’ve used far too much of your mothers generosity, and uni starts back up next week.”

Helaena sat up straighter, “Holy shit, that’s next week?”

You nodded, “Yep. Not looking forward to Orwyle’s Citadel History class. Man could bore you to tears. I think I’ve actually cried once or twice.” You joked, rolling around a slice of starfruit on your plate before plopping it into your mouth, enjoying the sweet nectar that coated your tongue.

“Are you going to take Rhaenyra’s offer?” Helaena asked, eyes flitting from you and then to Aemond.

“What offer?” Came the grumbling groan of Aegon, his head lifting momentarily to look at you.

If he wasn’t speaking and breathing in front of you, you would have mistaken the man for being dead. Dark rings sat beneath his eyes, and his pale skin had a sallow dullness to it that made him look almost grey.

“Rhaenyra offered her a job at her firm.” Helaena confirmed.

Aegon grunted, dropping his head back into his arms.

“I didn’t know she offered you a job.” Aemond looked at you from the side, brows pulling slightly.

Why did you feel a slight stab guilt in not telling him?

But how could you have?

It had been a whirlwind since she spoke to you.

The offer.

Aemond returning.

Your spat.

Your make up.

Viserys’ death.

It didn’t seem like the right thing to bring up at that time, and if you were being truly honest, you hadn’t even thought of it since his arrival.

“I didn’t have the chance to tell you with everything that’s happened.”

Aemond hummed, and so you continued, turning to face Helaena, “I think so. I need to give it a proper thought when I get home though.”

Helaena nodded at you, “I’ll speak to Cole after breakfast.” She promised, and resumed her eating.

You thanked her with a smile before doing the same.

“You should take it.”

His words came as a surprise.

You placed your fork back onto the plate as you looked at the man at your side. His face was honest and open, there wasn’t a sneer or grimace, or even the straight line that his lips did when he was upset.

He was being genuine.

You brows twitched as you wordlessly urged him to continue.

“My sister, despite everything, is a hard worker. She’ll look after you and make sure you’re taken care of. Besides, her firm is likely more your style anyway.”

“What do you mean by that?” You probed casually, trying to hide your real intrigue behind another piece of fruit in your mouth.

“More…” Aemond thought for a second, and then it came with a cheeky smirk, “Woman led.”

Helaena stayed true to her word and had Cole come to take you home, or at least, back to the private runway where that sleek jet picked you up once again.

You said your goodbyes to all, giving everyone a tight squeeze, especially Alicent Hightower, who you thanked for her endless generosity in having you there at such a tough time.

However, you wouldn’t be going home alone. Aemond was coming with you, citing the need to be with you, and the need to get away from a place he hated.

When you moved to say your goodbyes to your best friend, you asked her when she would be back with you, mind wondering when you would need to part ways with Aemond's presence.

“I’m going to stay here for the next month." She told you, "I’ve already emailed uni.”

“The next month?” You felt sadness in your chest. Another month without your best friend.

You were going to miss her.

“Yeah,” She kicked at the gravel at her feet, “Mum needs me here for the solicitors and the Will and Testimony reading.”

“Oh? Are you going to be okay?”

Helaena pulled you in for a hug and whispered into your ear, “I’m going to be taken away in a straight jacket by the end of this.” Before pulling back to smile again, cheekier this time, “Besides, I’m sure Aemond will keep you company.”

His smooth voice came from beside you, “I have no plans on leaving.”

The flight home was quick with his company, and on more than one occasion, you had to swat his hands away from you as he whispered the chance of joining the mile high club in his mothers jet.

It felt good to be home as you stepped through the front door, dropping your keys in the empty bowl, followed by the sound of Aemond dropping his in beside it.

It made you smile, the familiar scent of your apartment, the soft glow of light, it's tidiness perfect for your arrival home. You turned back, grin tugging on your lips to look at the man behind you, only to see him looking at you hungrily.

You continued forward, butterflied erupting in your stomach as you felt the warmth of his gaze behind you. You dropped your bags in the lounge room and stretched your arms up high, the day dress you were wearing sliding up your thighs.

Aemond watched you with a hooded eye, and the heat you had felt that morning came back tenfold.

And then you remembered.

“You didn’t make do on your promise.” You smirked.

Aemond raised a brow at you as he dropped his bags next to yours, hands flexing at his side, urging you to elaborate.

“You said you’d give me what I want after breakfast." You purred, "It’s past lunch.”

The silver haired man’s lip twitched as he looked at you, tongue in cheek, “Look whose gotten all bratty the moment we get home.”

Home.

The word sent heat straight to your core.

“Not my fault you're a liar.” You teased back, feeling confident to push him now that you knew where you stood. Now that you were home, away from his family, away from it all. It was now just the two of you.

You and him.

“A liar?”

“Uh huh.”

“Did I say when I would?”

You brows furrowed, “After breakfast.”

“And is lunch not after breakfast?”

Your eyes narrowed at him.

“Dick.”

Aemond’s demeanour changed entirely, posture straightening which gave him an extra inch of height. He looked down his nose at you as he watched you take a smirking step back, “Come here.”

You had to push down the flurry of excitement that almost unleashed a giggle into the room, “Make me.”

Your chest rose and fell sharply as you watched Aemond take a slow step towards you, and then another.

“Last chance, baby. Come here.”

"No."

Spinning on your heel you ran towards your room, Aemond's boots beating on the floorboards behind you coming closer. Hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you up, squeal erupting from your chest as you tried to wriggle out of his grip.

“That was very naughty of you.” His voice whispered hoarsely at your ear from behind, hot breath fanning down your neck.

You stifled a whimper as his fingers dug into your skin before he threw you down onto the bed, face first. Your hands flew outwards, catching yourself as your hips hit the end of the bed. Aemond was on you in an instant, pawing at your dress as he ripped it off of you.

“This what you want, huh? Want me to put you in your place? Little brat.”

Your hands moved behind you to tried to slap his arms as he yanked your panties down your legs in one long swoop. Aemond tutted from behind you as he kicked your legs apart, your lip caught in your teeth as you tried not to whimper.

“Look at you. Already soaked. Such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?”

His hand cast down onto the flesh of your ass and you cried out, back arching as the delicious sting spread through your skin. He pulled your cheeks apart roughly and spat onto your dripping entrance.

“Filthy little fuck hole.” Aemond growled, and you mewled as you felt his spit run between your thighs and drip down onto the floor below.

His fingers smeared his spit into your folds, parting them easily as he looked down at you and cooed, your head craning back to watch him as he chuckled darkly, “What am I going to do with you, hm? You want me to fuck this pretty little pussy, baby?”

Your legs tried to shut so that you could apply pressure with the squeezing of your thighs, but Aemond's legs were in the way, preventing you from getting any release of the tingling that spread through your aching centre.

“Please.” You murmured, pouting at him the best you could in the hopes that it would entice him to take you right then and there.

Another chuckle rumbled in his chest as he let one long finger circle around your entrance, the tip of it just barely pushing inside before it came back out again, teasing you.

“I don’t think you deserve it.” He hummed.

“Please, Aemond.”

“Not my name, sweetheart.”

A shiver ran down your spine, your eyes sliding shut, “Please daddy.”

The warmth from his body disappeared as he stepped back, your eyes opening to find him looking down at you with a stern face. Your heart raced in your chest, his height towering over you, dominance dripping from his every fibre of his being.

“Kneel.”

Gods be good.

Your eyes widened as you stared at him, his hands coming to undo his belt buckle slowly, watching as you didn’t move. He pulled the belt slowly from the loops, to soft flipp loud in the room. The belt dropped to the floor with a thud.

“I said,” Aemond moved quicker than you could react, grabbing a fist full of your hair and dragging you off of the bed onto your knees, “Kneel.”

The wooden floor bit into the skin on your knees sharply, but it was dull in comparison to the sheer desire to be ravaged by the man in front of you.

Long fingers slowly dragged down the zipper of his pants, opening it with languid movements as he kept his eye completely and utterly upon your face.

“Were you being bratty to get a reaction?”

You watched as he pulled his hard length from his briefs, running his fist from base to top slowly, the tip leaking a drop of precum that he smeared down his shaft.

Aemond hummed, “What? Can’t talk now?”

You shook your head defiantly as he took a step closer, “I’m going to ask you one last time,” His voice grew deeper, darker, and it added to the slick that was settling in the crux of your thighs, “Were you being bratty to get a reaction?”

You shook your head.

No.

Liar.

Aemond clicked his tongue at you in disappointment before sighing loudly, “Thought you’d say that. I’ve got a better use for that mouth of yours.” One hand in your hair, he tugged you forward, “Open.”

You don’t know what it was about this man, or what he did to you to make you the way you were with him. The way he absolutely ruined every inch of your mind and thoughts, the urge to both please him and defy him coursing through you all at once, but you wouldn’t give in. No, you needed him to react, you needed him to take what he wanted from you with force.

So biting the insides of your cheeks to keep you from smiling, you defiantly kept your mouth shut as you looked up at him from your knees.

The corner of his lip twitched as he hummed at you.

The sting across your cheek came quickly and stunned you enough to open your mouth in a gasp, exactly as he had planned when he slapped you. He grabbed your jaw with the entirety of his hand and squeezed at the joint meanly, mouth falling open further in pain.

Aemond slid his cock straight into your open lips, his heady weight sitting upon your tongue as he looked down at you, still holding the base with one hand, your jaw in the other.

“There you go. Far more useful with my cock in your mouth.” He grunted, pulling out slowly as you curled your tongue upwards, running it along the underside of his shaft, pressing into the long vein that travelled along it.

Aemond began to thrust into the back of your throat, letting go of the base so that the whole length of him would slide into your mouth. His cock was salty on your tongue, hot, swollen, and heavy in your mouth as he forced you to take him as deep as it would go.

You gagged on his length, eyes watering as you shut them tightly.

Two little slaps on your cheek made your eyes open back up, staring at him as he looked down at you, “Eyes on me while I fuck this pretty little mouth of yours.”

You moaned around his length, thighs rubbing together in an attempt to relieve the tension that was building between them. But it was fruitless. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what you needed, and what you needed was his fingers, his tongue, or his cock inside of you.

The silver haired man thrusted into your mouth the way he would into your cunt, deep, long and hard, his tip beating against the back of your throat as he used you for his own pleasure.

It was exhilarating, intoxicating, and exactly what you had wanted.

You wanted him to use you like this, to get it all out, to get out all the tension that had been hovering over him the minute he stepped into the Keep.

He needed this just as much as you did.

A thick line of saliva ran down your chin, dripping onto your thighs below as both hands wrapped around the sides and back of your skull, dragging your head up and down his length roughly. His brow was furrowed as he watched, mouth agape as he breathed shallowly and grunted.

“Look at you," He cooed down at you, "Just a hole for me to fuck. Just a little slut begging for daddy’s cock, isn’t that right?”

You hummed around his length, sucking your cheeks inwards as much as you could. Aemond hissed at the pressure, eye sliding shut momentarily as his hips stuttered.

It was a glorious sight.

You below him, looking up as his head was thrown back, ecstasy breaking out on his features as his pearly hair cascaded around his shoulders.

Your head was pulled away, length slipping from your lips as you gasped for air, a line of spit connecting you to his tip as he cooed at you.

“Open.”

You opened your mouth wider, tongue poking out for him. His cheeks hollowed and then Aemond spat onto your tongue, its warmth spreading from your mouth, all the way through your body.

You moved to shut your mouth to swallow for him like you thought he wanted, but he stopped you with a finger, pressing down on your tongue as he smeared his spit along the wet, pink muscle messily.

With little care, two fingers slid down to the back of your throat as he looked at you, your mouth still open waiting for a command. Aemond slowly fucked your throat with his fingers, grinning at the small gags that he elicited from the action, before pulling his fingers from your mouth, smearing his spit and yours across your face, the wetness sticking to your heated cheeks.

“Such a messy girl. So dirty.” He purred, lining his cock back up to your mouth which you took with ease, except this time, Aemond didn’t fuck your throat.

He slid his length all the way down your throat, cock pressing into your gag reflex and blocking off your air. Your nose met his pelvis as he looked down at you, shaking your head slightly side to side on his length.

“Hold it.” He growled, watching as a tear ran down your cheek as you tried to not cough or splutter on his length, chest heaving as you gagged, no air being able to pass through your nose.

Your head grew dizzy as you looked at him, lungs beginning to burn, but still he didn’t let you pull back. Holding you down onto him by the back of your head.

Your hands flew to his thighs for grip as you tried to pull away, but Aemond kept his cock nestled deeply in your throat.

“You can do it, pretty girl." He told you, "Five more seconds.”

Another tear slid down your cheek, the weight of him in your throat making your core flutter around nothing.

“Five.” He began to count down, watching as you squirmed below him.

“Four.” Your nails dug into his flesh harshly as you tried to keep on him, throat swallowing around him tightly in reflex, causing a shiver to roll through his body.

“Three.”

“Two.” He grunted, pulling you down harder on his length causing more tears to fall from your eyes.

“One.”

Aemond pulled you off his length, your lungs burning as you gasped in a lungful of air, spluttering and coughing at his feet.

“Good girl.” He praised, wiping the tears from your cheeks that had left wet tracks down your face.

You coughed softly, throat aching and head spinning, feeling embarrassed and aroused all in one. The head rush from lack of air was almost as intense as the head rush you got from your desire.

“Open.”

You licked your lips and swallowed doing as you were told, feeling Aemond slide his cock slowly into the back of your throat again, but this time, you inhaled a large lungful of air in preparation. He pulled your head down all the way, nose nestled into the hair at his base as he looked down at you.

“Good girl, baby. Look at you.” You moaned around his length, feeling tears in your eyes again as he nudged your gag reflex.

“Hold it.” His voice cracked, watching a tear slide down your cheek as he brushed hair away from your forehead gently, “You're going to hold it for ten this time.”

Ten.

Oh shit.

You didn't know if you could.

But you wanted to please him.

You wanted to be good for him.

“Ten.” Aemond began to count down again, pushing his hips slightly forward, making his cock go even deeper than you thought it could, throat bulging slightly from his length, your eyes widening as you squirmed below.

“Nine.”

“Eight.”

“Seven.” Your core clenched as he counted, watching through blurry eyes as he looked at you on your knees before him.

“S-ix.” He moaned, eye sliding shut as he felt your throat closing around him as your body tried to swallow the blockage that was his cock.

“Five.”

The room spun slightly and you began to shift below him, brain controlling you as it tried to pull you away to get air into your lungs instinctually.

“Four." Heat rose in your cheeks as you squirmed, head trying to move backwards from his grip.

"Stay still." He growled down at you. Despite his command, you still wriggled, slick sliding between your thighs as it began to drip down onto the floor below.

“Almost there, baby. Three.”

Your arms tried to push yourself back, pure instinct taking over, your hands on his thighs, vision in the corner of your eyes going dark.

Was he purposely counting slow?

Oh Gods.

He was.

“Two.”

You were almost there. Your fingers fisted against his thighs, and despite his face being blurred by your tears above, you couldn’t help but notice the sadistic smile that pulled at his sharp lips.

“Two and three quarters.”

Dick.

Your eyes narrowed at him, causing the man to chuckle.

“One.”

You ripped yourself away with a gasp, falling backwards onto your bum as you coughed and spluttered, drool hanging from your lips as you tried to steady your breathing.

Aemond knelt in front of you, swiping up the spit on your chin, “Good girl. Such a good girl for me - You did so well.” You keened at his praise, leaning into his hand.

Aemond helped you to stand, pulling you over onto the bed as he stripped himself bare, watching as you still fought to catch your breath, devouring him with lust filled eyes and swollen lips.

“Let's see how wet you are from me using your mouth like that, hm?”

You parted your legs on instinct, giving him view of your glistening folds.

Aemond inhaled sharply, “Look how fucking wet you are. You're dripping all over the bed.”

You nodded your head dumbly, brain feeling light as a feather. You didn’t know if it was from the lack of previous airflow, or if it was the way he was treating you, slowly sinking you down into the comfortable little space you loved to float in with him.

“Are you all dumb, baby?” He meanly cooed at you with a sadistic pout, stroking the hair atop your head.

You nodded again as he chuckled at you, running his fingers through your slick folds, the sound of him parting them obscenely wet.

“Just from being daddy’s little fuck hole?”

You moaned, pushing your centre into his hand as he swirled a digit around your swollen clit, sparks of pleasure flying up inside of you. His finger dipped inside of you, immediately crooking upwards into the spot you needed it most.

“Look at this needy little pussy sucking me in. Do you need daddy to help you?”

You moaned at him, thrusting your hips downwards onto his hand as he added another finger, beginning to fuck them inside of you.

“Use your words.”

It took whatever remaining braincell that was left inside your head to string together one measly word, “Please.”

Aemond smirked, “Please what, little dummy.”

You whined, shutting your eyes as heat flooded your cheeks.

“Come on. Use your big girl words or you won’t get anything.”

“Please, daddy. P-please fuck me.”

Aemond smiled victoriously, kissing a tear that was drying against your cheek, “There we go. That must have been real hard when you're all dumb, wasn’t it?

You whined at his teasing, and then again when he removed his fingers.

“Shh.” He hushed you, “Daddy’s going to give you just what you need.”

And he did.

Aemond slid into you immediately, aided by how wet and open you were for him. He sighed into the crook of your neck, your legs immediately wrapping around him as he began to fuck into you, slowly building up the pace.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust, his hips snapping into your own as pleasure bloomed within. You moaned and cried beneath him, his pelvis rubbing against your swollen bud with each deep and rough thrust he gave you.

“You gonna cum already? I can feel you gripping me.” He huffed, watching his length disappear into your folds.

“Please.” You wailed, hands gripping the sheets beside you tightly in your fists as you begged him with your eyes.

Aemond took pity on you and slid a hand down to your pearl, rolling it in time with his thrusts, “Come on then. Cum on my cock.”

It took four sharp thrusts before your eyes screwed shut, stars appearing behind them as you came with an earth shattering cry. Aemond fucked you through it, hips and hand not once still until you were a sobbing and slick mess beneath him.

“Fucked the brat right out of you, didn’t I? Pretty little baby.” He moaned, rutting into your centre as the sound of your arousal surrounded you, the hair at the base of his cock soaked with your release, “Just needed me to fuck you stupid, didn’t you?”

You couldn’t form any words, mouth hanging open as little whines and pants flittered off of your tongue. It was overwhelming, and the pleasure of your first peak was yet to settle, bliss sizzling and burning within your gut in a way that continued to mount as he kept rubbing your pearl.

It was almost painful.

“Give me another.” Aemond grunted, pressing his fingers against you again harder, watching as you tried to shift your hips and escape his circling digits.

But it was no use, and Aemond ripped yet another peak from you with precision, your head lulling to the side tiredly as your body was thrust up the bed with his hips. You laid limply beneath him as he continued to fuck you, lip pulled into your mouth by your teeth as you whimpered.

“Fuck.” He gritted out through his teeth, hand releasing your clit out of mercy as he gripped your hips tightly in both hands, fucking into you harder and faster than before, beating the air from your lungs with each thrust.

“Gonna fill up this little pussy.” He moaned, watching as your brows pulled together, walls fluttering around his length.

“You want me to fill this pretty pussy with my cum? Want me to fill you up?”

You nodded your head, tear leaking from the corner of your eye as he continued to rut into you rapidly, hands leaving your hips to wrap around your throat, squeezing the sides to prevent the blood flow to your head whilst allowing for air, amplifying your pleasure and making you float even further.

“Gonna cum in your cunt.” He moaned, using the grip on your neck to pull your weight down onto his cock, spearing you open with each thrust.

It was too much.

It was-

Oh Gods-

You were-

Your brain went blank as ecstasy shot through it, scrambling any thought that you had. You heard his cry as he came deep within you, his warmth filling you up, but there was a second wetness that you noticed, that soaked the sheets below you.

It took a while to come back down to yourself, held in Aemond’s arms as he brushed gentle hands over you, holding you to him. You felt warm, safe, and completely and utterly exhausted. You shifted to look up at him, watching as his eye opened to look down at you.

“Back on earth?” He asked softly, watching as you weakly smiled at him, nuzzling into his bare chest. His chuckle vibrated against your cheek.

“Come on, we got to get you cleaned up.”

You buried your head deeper into his chest, “Don’wanna.”

Lips pressed at the top of your head, “Come on. I need to change the sheets.”

This caught your attention.

Had you gotten your period?

Were you sweatier than you had thought?

You lifted your head to look at him, to which he gave you a smug little smile.

“You made quite the mess.”

You frowned, embarrassment creeping into your chest.

“Nothing bad.” He reassured you, kissing your forehead, “You ever squirted before?”

Squirted?

“As much as I love watching your mind turn and work, I’m lying in your wet patch.” He chuckled, shifting to lift you out of the bed.

Low and behold, there it was.

A large wet patch below Aemond that spread out against your sheets, proof of your pleasure and the peaks that Aemond took you too. And despite having no shame, and being roughly and thoroughly fucked not too long ago, heat still flooded your cheeks at the sight.

After lazing in bed for only an allowed moment more, Aemond helped you to the shower, your legs weak like jelly as he washed you and brushed your hair, taking off your makeup with gentle steady hands that made your heart flutter in your chest.

Ever the gentleman, he popped you on the couch as he changed your sheets, remaking your bed before he put on the load of washing. It was entirely domestic, and watching him as he moved, as he doted. on you, as he fluttered around your space which had irrevocably also became his, it only seemed to make the little part of him that had burrowed into your chest go deeper.

You ordered in that evening, getting pizza in a strange reminder of what it had been like when he first moved in. The same pizza order, the same pizza place, the same two spots on the couch as you ate.

The two of you had come a long way since then. A very long way, and in many ways, coming to a place that you would not have thought possible or even to have thought to cross your mind.

You watched his favourite movie in comfortable silence after eating your dinner, before suddenly you remembered something. You jumped up from your spot, hissing slightly at the soreness between your thighs as you ran to retrieve two spoons from the drawer, then opening the freezer door to dig around inside.

Ah.

There it was.

The forgotten tub of ice cream you had carelessly thrown inside when a certain person was in your home.

You held it triumphantly as you walked back to the couch, holding it as you would a prized jewel on show for him. Aemond chuckled at your antics as you pulled the lid clean off, offering him a spoon.

“The first dip, My Lord.” You joked, bowing your head to him.

Aemond huffed a laugh, the pressure of him digging into the tub with his spoon pushed into your wrist.

“Ñuha Riña.”

The accent sent a pulse straight to your core.

Down girl.

You dipped your spoon in after him, lifting it to your lips, “What does that mean?”

“My Lady." Aemond hummed, returning his attention back to the tv.

You savoured the ice cream, the tub becoming half full in no time as you slowly but surely demolished it together. It felt good to be at his side, to know where you both stood. To know what you both wanted, and for it to not be a secret anymore.

But you still couldn't get your mind to stop thinking about the way his tongue had rolled when speaking High Valyrian.

“Aemond?” You turned your head to look at his profile, watching as his tongue darted out to lick at his spoon.

“Hm?”

“Will you teach me?”

His brows furrowed, “Teach you what?”

“High Valyrian.” You asked him shyly, suddenly feeling like perhaps you shouldn’t have asked him that at all. Maybe he wouldn't want to teach you that. Maybe it was a family thing only.

Was that weird of you to ask?

Would it be a reminder of the tension back at home?

A reminder of his father?

Your swirling thoughts of doubt were cut short as a soft smile spread across his shape cheeks.

“Hen rhinka.” Of course.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll have to find out, won’t you, ñuha jorrāelagon.”

My love.

That night you slept in each others embrace, fresh and warm sheets on the bed, surrounded by his scent. It was no wonder that you drifted off to sleep so easily after the romp you had had earlier, not to mention how tumultuous the days before had been.

Yet when you woke the next morning, you felt refreshed, ready for a new start.

A new day.

A new beginning.

With him.

Aemond wasn’t in bed with you, but rather than feeling any sort of panic or anxiety about his absence, you crawled out of bed and went to where you knew he would be.

Standing tall, leant against the bench, Aemond sleepily sipped from his coffee in the kitchen as he blew the smoke from his cigarette through the open window. He was clad in only black shorts, his silver hair messy and tangled, and the press of his pillow embedded in his cheek.

Hearing your approach, he turned to you and smiled.

Your stomach did flips.

“Morning.”

The familiar sound of porcelain on the bench scraped in your ear.

There, at the base of his fingers, was your steaming mug of tea.

You took it gratefully from him with a smile before sidling up to his side, leaning your head against his chest as he wrapped one arm around your shoulders pulling you closer.

“What do you want to do today?” You looked up at him, watching as he smiled down at you.

“Anything you want.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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slytherizz · 6 months

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Petulant - Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

Tags: Rivals to Lovers, Fluff, Slice of Life, First Kiss

A/N I'm trying to be kinder to myself when it comes to my writing. I usually share longer pieces but I have so many little bits of fluffy drabble and I'm trying to remember writing is meant to be fun and not every one-shot needs to be perfect.

Palms flat on the jetty Sebastian hoisted himself out of the water. Cursing violent profanities as he shook his hair out like a wet dog as he scrambled onto the dock. Shaking whether with rage or because the frigid water of the black lake had chilled him to the bone. She wasn’t sure.

Not that she cared.

Sebastian deserved it for being such a petulant pain in her arse. And little water never killed anyone; no matter how many unsavoury creatures lurked in its murky depths.

He’d practically goaded her into shoving him off the jetty. It had only been a matter of time before one of them retaliated against this little bonding exercise of Hecat’s. If he'd seen the opening first she'd be the one drenched and spluttering - she was sure of it.

Having to endure sharing a potions station where they could use Gareth as a buffer was one thing. But being forced to spend her precious and most sacred Sallow-free hours, in the freezing cold catching Grindalow's as punishment was beyond the pale. All because they caused a teensy fire that was entirely Sebasitan’s fault when a duel had gotten out of hand.

Really what had Hecate expected to achieve with this cruel and unusual detention? That they’d return to the castle thick as thieves? Strike up a newfound camaraderie that would want to make her do anything besides hex the smarmy git?

Impossible. Their professor was far too optimistic and this exercise had been doomed from the start.

“Enjoy your swim?” she sneered. Perhaps it hadn’t been an entire waste of time. At least now she could savour this mental image of him sopping wet and looking utterly ridiculous.

Regaining his balance and rising to his full height, Sebastian stalked towards her. Face like thunder stopping mere inches away from her to glare down his nose. Droplets of water falling from his hair onto her cheeks. She swatted them away wrinkling her nose in disgust which only seemed to enrage him further.

"You. Are the most immature. Insufferable. Petulant witch, I've ever had the displeasure to meet. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t hex you on the spot! Why exactly did you feel the need to throw me in the bastard lake?”

He was standing so close to her she should really step away but her feet were practically glued to the spot. Standing so close his hot breath ghosted across her cheeks. So close in fact, she could see his freckled skin through the shirt which clung to every inch of him. Sheer white leaving absolutely nothing to her imagination.

How she'd never noticed quite how large Sebastian had gotten until he was impressing down on her was a mystery. A realisation that came too little too late as she’d turned their altercations physical.

No matter where she looked there seemed to be more of him. Broad shoulders heaving with every laboured breath. Water beading in sparse hairs on his chest which peaked out from over his open-top buttons. Muscles in his jaw and neck twitching in agitation.

Her eyes of their own volition had begun to meander down his stomach following the trail of hair wondering exactly how far they went before she caught herself. Wrenching them up again to his face, before she saw if the cling of his soaking tartan trousers exposed just as much of him as his shirt. Half terrified of what she'd find; the other half disgusted with her own desire to look. She didn't know what kind of feelings it would invoke but by the heat pooling low in her abdomen - she could hazard a guess.

“Have you got nothing to say for yourself?”

She blushed wildly. Mouth flapping open and closing like a fish out of water. Trying to stamp down the unwelcome feeling that made her want to press her thighs together.

He blinked at her. Dark eyebrows lowering sceptically. "You're staring."

"I am not!” she spluttered. Trying to recapture the feeling of overwhelming irritation she’d felt the precise moment she’d thrown him overboard. “An obnoxious idiot just happens to be shouting his head off in my eyeline."

"You're blushing." He smirked, voice giddy with amusement as if he'd finally cracked some impossible puzzle. Her hands snapped up to clasp her burning face to hide the evidence. His tongue darted across his bottom lip licking off water. Which only made her cheeks burn hotter.

"Is that why you pushed me in? Wanted to get a good look?"

"I wanted you to shut your mouth and stop whinging for five minutes so I could have some bloody peace. But it seems to have had the opposite effect - you're chatting even more bollocks than before."

"So this why you’re so insufferable all the time. This-” He gestured down to his dishevelled albeit to her utter dismay, not unappealing state of undress. “Is your idea of flirting?”

“Flir- Flirting? You must have knocked your head on your way down.”

“Merlin. This is rich - You’d be pulling on my pigtails if I had them."

"No. I. Wouldn't!"

Foot stomping hard on the rickety planks in frustration. Rather childish and definitely not her proudest display. It did little to prove her argument and instead to her dismay only seemed to make Sebastian grin wider.

"You fancy me." Not a question. He declared it like he’d won some imaginary battle.

"I absolutely do not."

He leaned further towards her she could see the glint of triumph in his brown eyes. She swallowed hard eyes flicking towards his lips and back again.

"Liar.”

Strong hands seized her face and knowing he’d won - Sebastian crashed his lips into hers. They were wet and cool against hers from his tumble into the lake as he kissed her. But so soft and inviting in a way she didn’t think anyone's flesh could be it made her head spin. His fingers tangled in her hair, mouth moving demanding against hers.

Her knee jerked instinctively towards his most precious area but faltered, along with the last of her pride. She could not seem to find the will to pry herself away. Sebastian’s teeth grazed her bottom lip requesting access. She gasped in surprise and he slid his tongue past her parted lips. A shudder ran through her as his tongue flicked against hers.

He groaned into her mouth, as her tongue matched his motions in maddening strokes. A sound under normal circumstances she would have mocked him mercilessly for only made her kiss him back more feverishly. Regrettably, her hands were just as traitorous as her tongue. Following the curve of broad shoulders, she felt the muscles underneath firm from years of duelling. Admitting defeat she dared to go further tangling in his wet hair. Pulling gently hoping it would elicit more sinful sounds from Sebastian.

A deep well of desire now pooled in her gut all rational thoughts drowned in. She failed miserably to stifle her own strained moan as large hands encircled her waist pulling her flush against him. Skin practically burning despite the frigid temperatures.

A truly pathetic whimper of protest escaped her lips as Sebastian pulled away from their kiss. Leaving her breathless and dizzy even as the cold rushed in. No longer able to leech his warmth she shamefully realised how close their bodies had been pressed together from the chill of her damp clothes.

He stepped back and if she was capable of forming a coherent thought she would have hexed the smug look off his ridiculous, handsome, infuriating face.

"Now. I'm going to go and get out of these wet clothes before I catch a death," Sebastian said. As casually as if he was observing the weather and had not just spent the last five minutes snogging the supposed most insufferable witch he’d ever met. Turning quickly on his heels he began striding towards the boat house. Leaving her open-mouthed cheeks burning from the frigid wind lapping at the wet hand print on her cheek or with shameful unwanted desire she wasn't sure. Calling back over his shoulder. A roughish smile pulled on freckled cheeks. A devilish glint in his eye. "If you're ready to stop being such a brat - I'll let you help."

She groaned inwardly, legs following him across the jetty seemingly of their own accord. Powerless to stop herself and praying no one would see her shameless pursuit.

She knew he'd never let her live this one down.

Not that she cared.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic

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auroracalisto · 2 years

Text

colds in the winter — the reader falls ill in the middle of winter, worrying tommy and their son, charlie. tommy even goes as far as taking a day off to keep an eye on her. word count: 803 words tw: colds, slight!ooc tommy?? i feel like it could be interpreted this way, but i’ll leave that up to you to decide, fem!reader a/n: i’m always sick. you now have this as a result. :P also… ignore the totally lame title. LMAO

Winter had fallen upon Birmingham once more. Clouds constantly littered the grey skies, and rain fell far more often than you had liked. Snow would soon litter the grounds of your beloved home.

Your coat was often glued to your shoulders, buttoned up your body for warmth. Without it, the temperatures would have you freezing, guaranteed to make you sick. However, your attempts of staying remotely healthy fell short of successful.

In a matter of days, the cold weather had taken its toll on you, leaving you lying in bed, staring up at the tall ceiling. Your nose stuffed up, your ears feeling as though they needed to pop. A raging headache had made its way to every corner in your head. The sun peaking through your bedroom curtains did little to soothe your aching body.

Thomas was nowhere to be seen. He must have left sometime in between your off-and-on sleeping that morning. You hadn’t even bothered to check the time, knowing it was well into the day. Thomas surely had been gone for hours.

With a groan, you forced yourself to sit up, rubbing your face with the palms of your hands.

The little patter of feet came rushing towards your bedroom door. Charlie busted through, a smile on his sweet face.

“Mum!” he quipped, rushing over to your side. He reached out to you, expectantly waiting for you to pick him up.

As you moved to do so, a cough emitted from your throat, soon followed by another, and then another. You quickly covered your mouth with the inside of your elbow, moving away from Charlie. You couldn’t risk getting your baby sick.

“Charlie, what did I tell you?” Thomas said as he rounded the corner, coming into your shared bedroom. “Leave your mother—“

Thomas stopped short as he heard your cough.

“Are you alright?” he asked, coming over to your side. “Should I call for a doctor?”

You curtly nodded, squeezing your eyes shut.

“I had figured you were tired. Tossing and turning all night,” Thomas frowned, leaning forward to pick up Charlie. He sat him in his lap. “I tried to keep him from bothering you, but it seems as though my attempts were futile.”

“You didn’t go to work?” you frowned as you looked up at him.

“No,” he shook his head.

“And why is that?” you questioned your husband. He hardly ever missed work.

He pursed his lips, avoiding your gaze. “I had things I needed to take care of, here.”

“Like?”

“Mrs. Shelby, I did not come here to be interrogated.” he huffed, looking down at Charlie who was just giggling. Charlie looked over at his mother, smiling all the while.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, leaning back against the pillows once more. “Well—” Before you could get a word out, you began to cough once more. You coughed into your elbow, but it only seemed to get worse with each one.

Thomas quickly put Charlie tell, instructing him to tell the maid to call for the doctor. Charlie nodded and ran off to do as he was told, leaving his father with his sick mother.

“I do believe this is the reason I stayed home,” he said, coming to your side. He gently pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, frowning. “You are warm. I would say you have a fever.”

“Then you most definitely should not be in here with me.”

He gave you a faint smile. “Mrs. Shelby, you are in no position to tell me what to do.”

You rolled your eyes again, huffing once more.

He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You will be alright.”

“It is merely a cold. No need for the dramatics.”

He grinned, his hand cupping the side of your face.

“Perhaps,” he said. “I am not leaving your side until the doctor gets here.”

You frowned. “Well that’s preposterous. You should leave. Go to work. You’ve never missed for something so silly before.”

“My wife being sick is silly?” he questioned.

Perhaps he had a point. He had many loves in the past who left him in a matter of seconds because of things far more drastic than just a cold—but the worry he had was justifiable.

You sighed softly and closed your eyes.

“Will you at least lie with me? Instead of hovering over me like that?”

He just smirked, sitting down beside of you. He wrapped an arm around your torso, pulling you close. He knew the maid would warn them before the doctor arrived, so he would have plenty of time to straighten himself up. But for now, he would hold the one woman who made these dastardly winters worth it all, even if he might end up sick as well.

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pikatsum · 1 year

Text

high tide (came and brought you in) - chapter one.

summary: you’d originally rescued the injured merman out of kindness, and perhaps a healthy undercurrent of fear of what others in your town might do to the creature. the last thing you ever expected after returning him to the sea, was for him to try to stay.

tags: afab reader, merfolk, mention of explicitly-inhumane fishing practices.

this fic is a part of the teahouse collab, on discord!

A hunting party had left port, yesterday.

It was made up of the usual kind of tourist, you gathered, overhearing the neighborhood gossip on the sandy, well-trodden path into town. It was made up of a bunch of trigger-happy business students, likely bored with another year of academia and looking for something visceral. Looking to harm in a way that was sanctioned— even celebrated, in some corners of your seaside town. Doubtlessly, they were after the biggest creatures they could catch: sharks, dolphins, or something even more dangerous. Most of those you passed seem to believe that they’d be headed to the outer reefs.

This year, the annual merfolk migration had come early. You had heard through the grapevine that some of the offshore boats had begun to radio in with the usual signs: faulty sonar, empty traps and a general sense of unease, the closer they got to the outer-lying reefs, where multitudes of traveling pods made their temporary homes. Anyone with sense usually knew to stay far away from merfolk-territory, no matter how temporary their stay.

But now that that the sudden departure of the town’s gaudiest fishermen had combined with this news, it was collectively generating more rumor than Baralou Island had handled in months. As the path transitioned to craggy, uneven sidewalk, you still heard people on their porches, gossiping about what could’ve drawn the group’s attention so suddenly. Perhaps it was one of the cartload of technological additions that they’d constantly been wheeling up onto the sleek convertible boat they’d rented. You’d already had to duck through their large group by the harbor yesterday, and through the small crowds that had gathered to see what the fuss was about.

One of their number had been particularly boastful, perched at the top of the gangplank. His cerulean hair almost blinding in the sun, you’d heard him claim that he possessed the skill to capture merfolk— “I could snag a whole pod, in a single net!” — Anywhere else, those statements would’ve warned a call to the coast guard, if not the police. On Baralou, however, it was met with scattered applause and a single wolf-whistle.

Anti-merfolk sentiment always reached a peak in the summertime. The reason always varied: a lesser catch of fish that year, an increase in hurricane warnings. Merfolk— intelligent, powerful and little-understood— made the perfect scapegoats. With the early arrival of their annual migration, it was the opinion of some locals that the large pods passing through the reefs of the island were choking out the tourism industry. Never mind the fact that it was barely the start of summer, and the migration never lasted longer than a month. Nothing got people riled up like the notion of losing out on their most important source of income.

As a former resident, you knew that Baralou took great, and often dubiously-legal pains to advertise itself as having the “safest beaches in the world.” Entire books recounted years worth of fishing competitions with consistently high numbers of so-called “incidental harm” to merfolk. When taking these years’ worth of torment and fear tactics into account, it was little wonder that no mer would dare cross the reefs near the island, these days.

As a teenager, you too had sworn you would never come back to the island again— though this was more to do with Baralou’s pitifully-tiny size outside of tourist season, and the maddening frustration of growing up amongst the same faces you’d seen since nursery school. Nearing the end of your college career has reignited that passion to stay away— but unfortunately, your budget wasn’t quite in agreement with those plans. A summer of housesitting for your aunt and uncle, as well as your waitstaff position at one of Baralou’s many dockside restaurants would ideally give you enough to leave for good, come the fall.

Although you could barely wait to repack your overflowing suitcases, your first weeks back home had reminded you that not everything here was abjectly awful. Your expression lightened once you’d ordered from your usual café, turning to find an outside table already occupied with your favorite resident.

Camie Utshushimi wasted no time in shattering your hopes for normalcy.

“I heard—“ she began in a low voice, as you seated yourself, “—that somebody on the south-side offered to guide the business yuppies to a huge mer pod.”

You exhaled your disapproval over a warm mug of tea.

“That’s gotta be a scam. Even if they wanted to go out there, those reefs are nationally-protected. The fines alone would keep anybody away.”

“Babes, you know as well as I do that won’t stop them.”

“Even if they make it—” you retorted, “—I highly doubt a mer from these parts would be so easily caught, especially by that group.”

Camie at least seemed to take that point into consideration, a brief smile playing at her lips. She took a slow sip of coffee, her warm brown eyes pensively scanning the water.

“If anything, they’ll snag a nesting sea turtle, or a manatee that got washed in by mistake. The poor thing.” still you frowned, considering, “I hope they come back with nothing. But with all that fancy gear…”

This seemed to shake Camie out of her reverie, turning from the sea with a dismissive click of her tongue.

“Nah, Inasa already gave me the deets— that’s all rented. Fat chance they know how to use all of it.”

“Are you sure?” your lower lip worried anxiously, under your teeth.

Despite her agreeable chirp, you knew by the actual look in her eyes that she couldn’t be fully certain. You both finished your drinks in uneasy silence.

Camie was always amongst the island’s earliest risers, which meshed well with you. Shame that she had a social calendar more tightly packed than a visiting royal— she was never available in the evenings, no matter how many nights you tried to invite her to join you at the beach bars. Regardless, she was your closest friend on the island, and if these short moments outside the cobblestone cafe were what you had with her each morning, it was something you were grateful for.

On your way home, you cut back through the fishing harbor— at least, until you were stopped by a growing crowd. You couldn’t make out what was going on amongst their fluctuating number, but with everyone talking and the piercing beep of a large convertible boat backing in along the docks, you could only assume the town’s ‘conquering heroes’ had finally returned. Disgusted, you gave up your gawking and diverted to walk along the craggy shoreline for the last half-mile, back towards your borrowed home.

Most beachgoers preferred the island’s largest offerings, located just outside the shopping district at the other end of the island. These days, you preferred this semi-deserted spit of sand, despite the high tide forcing you to walk through the shallows for most of the way home.

Your weak earbuds were cranked to the max, but still did little against the crash of the waves. Slowly, you picked your way through a bed of oyster shells— even if any accidental cuts would be soothed in an instant, once the saltwater raced over your feet, again. At last, you reached the end of the shell bed, picking up the pace as the wind pushed insistently at you, spraying sand into your face and forcing you to stop, until it calmed.

Your podcast faded to ringing static in your ears when you spotted the torn fishing net, lying ahead.

Its edges had gouged deep into the sand— and, as it was so close to the shoreline itself, the waves that followed had buried them under more silt, throughly entrapping it. It was doubtlessly lost from the harbor. Was that the source of the commotion you’d missed? But, more horrifying than its condition (so tangled up on itself that it resembled a massive bunch of seaweed) or location, far from the fishing harbor, was the fact that it was moving.

Fear coursed through your veins. You needed to call some kind of authority. There should be a phone number at the prior beach access for the wildlife conservatory, if you could just get back to it. You’d have to go back over the oyster bed, but if something was still alive in that monstrosity, there wasn’t much choice to make. You’d taken all of two steps back, preparing yourself for the pain, when an odd sound rose in the lull of the tide. You tore out your cheap earbuds and strained to listen.

The sound that followed defied explanation. You’d never heard anything close to it. The only comparative experience you could draw from was mourning. A harsh, desperate cry, from something that was quite literally on its last hope.

The next thing you knew, your hands were plunging into damp tangles of rope. You cursed as it slid from your hands, as you first tried to wrench it apart, and then upwards— but of course, its moorings were stuck fast. It vaguely occurred that you had absolutely no idea what you were attempting to unearth, but the thought was quickly forgotten. Whatever this was, you could hear breathing from within the mass— shaky, ragged, and quick. You didn’t have much time.

And so, you turned instead to the edges themselves. You plunged your hands into the wet sand and dug as fast as you could. Fortunately, the fasteners weren’t buried too deeply. It didn’t take long for you to pry one up, and then another, the raspy catch of breathing serving as an inefficient and rapidly-dwindling timer. Your fingers burned. Your arms ached. And yet, you continued to tear at the bindings, tugging at the base of the netting until you could finally start to pry up a corner.

You‘a heard of hysterical strength before, but you’d never truly acknowledged the sensation until the soaked, dripping netting was held high above your head. Very quickly, those considerations vanished entirely at the sight of the form underneath.

A pair of bright dichromatic eyes blinked at you through the gloom. The moment would be almost ethereal, if their owner wasn’t literally heaving for breath, both arms stuck akimbo in the holes of the netting. You gave voice to the only thought that actually made sense in this situation.

“…What the hell…?”

Your arms burned from the sopping weight of the net. Water and damp pieces of seaweed were falling on the both of you. With a grunt of effort, you finally stepped forward and chucked the excess portion backwards, before you immediately knelt to loosen the remaining bindings.

The man— not human, not fully, your brain warned— almost immediately began to thrash, displacing a spray of water between you as the tide came in. You bit back a yelp, but repressed the urge to flinch, caught up by the look on his face.

Whatever he was or wasn’t, you knew he was afraid.

You couldn’t be sure if he would understand, as you raised your hands, palms out. Was there really such a thing as a universal sight of surrender? Although your next movement forward earned a flash of sharp teeth, he didn’t move against you. With that, your hands returned to the net, and you set to work untangling it from his body.

You stared down at your hands as you worked, pulse thrumming in your ears. Outside of them, you couldn’t feel anything, outside the numbing sting of adrenaline. Because of that, your motor control was tenuous at best— all you could do was continue working at the net. Heart in your mouth, you snuck another glance up, to confirm your suspicions. Sharp teeth. Bright eyes. Fins, twitching and alert, where ears would be.

If anyone else happened upon your rescue of a beached merman, you would be in very serious trouble.

You re-doubled your efforts, trying to get him loose, wishing that you’d somehow had the foresight to grab something sharp—

—oh, wait.

“Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow—!”

One painstaking pick-over of the oyster graveyard later and you had yourself a prime specimen. You’d exchanged a fair bit of blood to the sand, but that was neither here nor there. You half-ran, half-limped back to the fallen net, makeshift tool held high and set to work, ignoring the latest attempt to swipe at you. This particular shell had sliced open the ball of your foot, so, soon enough, it had started a tear into the tangled net.

The merman didn’t seem to appreciate your ingenuity. You’d barely gotten his right arm free before he was using it to grab onto yours, tugging you forwards as his other, bound arm tried to gesture to his throat.

“Wait—!” you panicked at the strength of his grip, “I’m getting your other arm out, just breathe—!”

A feeling like ice water ran down your spine.

“….Can’t…”

“You ca—?” you’d barely gotten through the repetition before you saw the small slits in his throat, gaping and closing frantically.

You had no idea how long the mer had been breathing above-water, but those rattling wheezes sounded like he was reaching his limit.

“Oh, shit— hold on!”

You cut through the last binding of his left arm and began to feverishly hack away at the snarled mass behind him. It wasn’t long before the shimmer of scales became apparent through the remaining bindings. You couldn’t think much about the full magnitude of what all you had uncovered— how could he speak? — because the merman in question could barely breathe at all. The small gasps of air he managed to draw seemed more like hiccups.

With no time to spare, you dragged whatever remained of the net backwards, wincing as a massive number of koi-like scales were caught and sloughed off in your haste. Supposedly the merman would sooner be alive than care about the finer details of his appearance.

The net had barely dropped before his powerful tail slammed down into the surface of the wet sand— sending fragments of it splashing back over you. You took a few steps back as the merman— tail uselessly trying to propel him forwards— was forced to use an approximation of an army-crawl to get towards the shallows.

Without the snarled ropes in the way, you only saw the injuries left behind. A multitude of bruising and deep scratches marred his back, some still sluggishly-bleeding. There was a long gouge of scales missing on his left flank, revealing the smooth muscle of his tail which seemed to share the unique dichromatic coloring of the rest of him. A few pairs of dorsal fins twitched valiantly as he tried to propel himself forwards.

Finally, the merman made it to the sea. It was easier going from there, especially after he’d managed to fully submerge his head and neck underwater. He stayed for a long moment, doubtlessly drinking in the relief of oxygen that he could fully process. But no mer would ever want to stay this close to Baralou’s shore. As he sank into the shallows, you expected him to tear off, instantly.

Instead, he broke the surface again, split hair tumbling over his broad shoulders, before another of those indecipherable sounds carried itself over the shush of the incoming tide, back to you. This one sounded like a challenge. He’d fought his way through whatever hell had gotten him trapped in that netting, suffered through a slow asphyxiation and crawled himself back to the sea. He’d very nearly been killed. But now, he seemed to dare the land and anyone living there to try it, again.

Caught in the early-morning rays, he was the most breathtaking creature you had ever seen.

In spite of the sentiments, the posted warnings, and the merman’s borderline war-cry, you made your way back down the sand and into the shallows. The merman had vanished far into the deeper waters by then. You doubted he’d return for such a silly reason. And yet….

A few small tide-pools were receding beneath the tangles of net you’d torn away. You knelt and began to dig through their broken coils, to extract as many of the curved, glimmering scales as you could. They were ivory, with splashes of wine red, each one with its own unique pattern. Perhaps, like snakeskin, a mer’s scales were destined to be shed. Still, you felt like they had to serve some purpose.

Once you’d gathered up as many as you could carry, you made your way down the shore, following the shallow trench that his tail had left. You went along it, into the sea, out until it lapped up over your kneecaps, where the merman had first shoved his face underwater, and then you went a bit further, just for good measure. It would be nothing but bad news to have these wash back up, after all.

There, you lowered your hands, and let the scales slip through, to the ocean floor. Even if the merman didn’t come back, perhaps the currents would be kind enough to return at least some of them back where they belonged. With one final glance outwards, you took your leave, walking determinedly towards the shore, even as the ocean’s receding current pulled enticingly, trying to lure you to follow, into its depths.

#mha x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #mermay #shouto x reader #shouto x you

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phantomyre · 7 months

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Vincent could prove to be a problem for Sephiroth this time around... regarding Cloud.

I'll preface this by saying all of the main characters in the party will have a part in creating the fibers that make up Cloud. Granted, we have characters such as Tifa who help piece his mind together, and Aerith whose death he felt personally responsible for. However, with the coming of Rebirth and the focus on building strong relationships amongst the team, I think it's safe to say every character will play a part in influencing Cloud's being. The friendship bond will be the strength that keeps Cloud whole as an individual--- and it is that strength that Sephiroth seeks to wield as his own. As such, Sephiroth will likely destroy that bond, come end of Rebirth or part 3. It is on this premise that I will focus on Vincent-- the one character who was not only reluctant to fight Sephiroth, but is also a reflection of Cloud. Both are one and the same, and yet very opposite.

Exploring Vincent's Mindset

Due to his past, Vincent purposefully disassociates himself from others-- particularly those he cares about. In OG, when Cloud asks the group to think of why they are choosing to fight, he is the most shocked when he sees Vincent return to the Highwind, saying he thought Vincent didn't care. In the novella On the Way to a Smile, Vincent immediately leaves Cloud and co after defeating Sephiroth, ignoring Yuffie's disappointment about him abandoning his friends. By the time of Dirge of Cerberus, Cait calls Vincent out on his bluff for saying he didn't want to take part in helping his friends in their efforts. Yet in every instance where he turned a cold shoulder, he could never fully resist his nature to address someone's earnest plight.

After opening his heart to Lucrecia and allowing his emotions to take control of his actions, it cost him his humanity, his lover, his life, and everything he once treasured. This phobia of imparting grief to a loved one is not unlike Cloud's fear, as is depicted in Advent Children. In essence, this element of Vincent's will/mindset can also be seen in the way he functions during his Limit Breaks, particularly when an enemy attempts to inflict statuses on him.

During Vincent's uncontrollable Limit Breaks, Vincent actually becomes immune to both Berserk and Confusion statuses-- regardless of what form he takes. Even while his mind and body are lost to the whims of the beast via rage and pain, befitting a true berserk state, Vincent is incapable of mistaking friend or foe. This in turn allows him to never act impulsively, unlike Cloud. Perhaps this is also why Marlene found refuge with Vincent, even though she presumably had never met him before. Amidst his agony, Vincent has learned to master his pain and use it to protect others.

Exploring Sephiroth and Cloud's Mindset

It is well-known that Cloud has been through hell. Everything from losing his family, his home, his best friend, and even his identity. Cloud easily falls into despair, thus making him an easy target of manipulation. Sephiroth is aware of Cloud's desire to become strong, and uses Cloud's pain as a motivator every step of the way. Both Cloud and Sephiroth desire to grow stronger, and throughout the various compilations, Cloud indeed gets stronger. But what of Sephiroth? Initially, it looked as though he only enjoyed tormenting Cloud just to make Cloud suffer. But since then, we've had a peak at Sephiroth's backstory entailed based on Ever Crisis' latest event (Pumpkin Harvest).

In the Halloween event, there is an interesting bit of lore that gives us some insight into Sephiroth's past with Hojo. Once Sephiroth enters the Shinra Manor and begins looking over the library, a flashback is triggered, and he is thrown into a whirl of pain. We learn that Hojo tortures Sephiroth in order to draw out Sephiroth's power.

Thus, it is implied that Sephiroth experienced 'kindness/love' in the form of suffering, believing that through pain, he can accomplish his greatest potential. And it is through this indoctrination of twisted psychology that Sephiroth also seeks to impart this 'kindness' to the one he deems worthy of his attention, aka Cloud. It wouldn't be far fetched to say Sephiroth may in actually believe he is doing Cloud a favor. But what does this all have to do with Vincent...?

Vincent's influence could thwart Sephiroth's control over Cloud

Consider the psychology of pain between Sephiroth and Vincent. One uses pain as a motivator to protect, while the other weaponizes it for his own gain, and perhaps as a contorted form of kindness. Vincent bemoans the loss of his humanity and his inability to feel. Sephiroth has not only been robbed of basic human experiences, but has also willfully discarded human emotions into the Lifestream (Lifestream Black Chapters from On the Way to a Smile). While both were tormented against their will, both chose to approach their afflictions contrary to one another. Both seek to protect and preserve Cloud, yet with very conflicting methods and reasons.

From OG onward, Cloud develops a connection with each of the characters. And in the case of Vincent, both seem to share a unique bond that is almost akin to a brotherly relationship (think alike, act alike, share the same pain, mutual respect, etc). Even so far as being the only two who visit Aerith's watery grave on a regular basis in Advent Children (Vincent says "I come here often"). But it isn't simply due to their past hardships or their travels together. Cloud lacks something that Vincent has an aptitude for--- the ability to harness pain and use it to protect others; the opposite of what Sephiroth is trying to instill within Cloud. Vincent, who is the harbinger of Chaos-- death and destruction, willfully chooses to instead become the protector. Cloud, easily mislead and vulnerable to Sephiroth's control, is being primed to become death and destruction himself. Should Vincent and Cloud's bond strengthen, and Cloud learns to harness his pain for the better, Sephiroth's grip on Cloud would be threatened. Vincent represents how perpetuated abuse can be used and controlled in order to help/protect others, while Sephiroth is the embodiment of that vicious cycle of pain being imparted to others for a selfish gain. With the theme of Rebirth and how strong relationships are key to the strength of the team, this inevitably sets the stage for those bonds to be torn apart either later in Rebirth or part 3. Cloud's strength being derived from his friends threatens Sephiroth's very existence. Every thread of connection is destined to be torn apart; only to be securely fastened to Sephiroth, and Sephiroth alone. And if there's one thing that Sephiroth fears the most, it is his bond with Cloud being severed. Therefore, Vincent (along with everyone else) will likely become a major threat to Sephiroth's existence... and that's not even including the fact that Vincent is connected to Sephiroth's past (his humanity), has knowledge of who his true mother is, and has proven he can successfully thwart Nero/Jenova/Sephiroth's escape by destroying Omega. But that is a discussion for another time.

#vincent valentine #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy #ff7 #ffvii #cloud strife #sephiroth #ever crisis #ff7 rebirth #final fantasy 7: rebirth

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reiderwriter · 7 months

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Thoughts on unsub spencer reid fics?

Hi! I'm not sure if you wanted more of a general answer or meant this as a headcanon or gen request, so I'm just going to go purely on vibes and answer this as a question.

Spencer as an Unsub - Thoughts

Disclaimer: Anything negative said here is absolutely not an insult towards any specific writer or fic. I don't really read unsub Reid fics, due to facts I'm about to get into, so I'm really not knowledgeable enough to be throwing shade 💀 This is personal opinion!

I personally would need a lot of convincing to believe in an "unsub" Spencer Reid.

In Criminal Minds, it's clear from very early into the show that Spencer is very empathetic with certain unsubs. The entire team have their own types of cases that they get more personally involved in (Morgan and cases involving child victims, JJ and apparent suicides, Emily and quote unquote battered women cases) but Spencer is the only one whose personal attachment to cases leaves him empathising with the unsub instead of the victim.

He's the only member of the team who could have seen himself committing violent acts the way unsubs do had his life veered down a different path. And, based on Spencer's background and the psychology of the show, he's probably right to be concerned.

He's a white male, at the peak of the show in his mid to late thirties, with a background of abuse and a family history of mental illness. By season four, we know he's highly skilled with a gun, and by season 12/13, we see that he can be pushed to violence when he is at the very edge of his limitations.

And then they make his character so intrinsically moral that you never question him ever again.

To a certain extent, Criminal Minds is about the perpetual cycles of abuse that human kind can inflict upon itself. Many of the unsubs were once victims, some of them perhaps still are. The heroes of the story are characters who have been able to break the cycle.

Spencer is neglected as a child. He has an absent father abandon him, a mother with schizophrenia who does physically beat him when she is having an episode. He is bullied heavily in school for his high IQ and his lack of social skills. But he is shown to deeply care for him mother and empathise with her deeply instead of coming to resent her like many of the unsubs in that situation. He resents his father, for sure, but instead turns that resentment into drive, leading him to "just keep getting more PhDs." And his personal experiences with bullying allow him to empathise with the unsubs that have gone through similar circumstances.

So I don't think canonically, Spencer is ever in danger of becoming an unsub. He deeply cares about the world and the people around him, and whilst he does have a kill count on the show, he either expresses deep remorse at having to oull the trigger, or it is in the best interest for everyone involved.

Basically, all that to say: I think Unsub Spencer Reid in fanfiction has to be written incredibly carefully, or it runs the risk of being very out of character. To be clear, I'm not too bothered about characters being slightly out of character in fics because it happens. I've probably written a lot of stuff where Spencer is OOC, too. And that's fine.

I do kind of draw the line at grabbing random unsub traits from the show and giving them to Spencer for a fic. For example, Spencer would never end up as a sexual sadist. He probably wouldn't be a spree killer, either. Not that anyone wants my writing advice, but if you're writing an unsub Spencer fic, think about his background and the profiles they generally give for the kind of signature/ crimes you're about to give him.

If this was a request, I apologise for the misunderstanding. But here's a little hint at what I might do with a general "unsub Reid" request.

☆ It would most likely take place after the events of Season 12/13.

☆ It's angst or nothing.

☆ The basic plot: Reid's headaches come back after taking a blow in the field. He tries seeking help for it but can't find any relief. On his next case, because of his chronic pain, he makes a mistake that gets his teammate, the reader, shot. The unsub escapes, but the reader falls into a coma. When it looks like reader is not going to pull through, he tracks down the unsub and beats his to death after a brawl. Massive overkill. The reader pulls through that night, and he feels no guilt for getting that monster off the street. But each time the readers health takes a turn, or they require a new surgery, he is compelled to go back out there and track down and kill another serial killer until the reader finally wakes up.

☆ I don't think it'd be very well received because there would be no morally grey smut. This is some tragic angst shit only, lmao.

☆ please don't put a request for this in my inbox. If I feel like writing it later, I might, I don't have the brain power right now, though 💀

That's all I've got right now, but I'd love to hear other people's thoughts on unsub Reid :)

#spencer reid #criminal minds #reiderreplies #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid request #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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demonslayedher · 5 months

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Things that ran through my mind while watching this episode: --Ufotable says "jump" and FujiTV says "how high?" Likewise, they say "we want more run time" and FujiTV says "take it, it's yours." It seems odd that an episode in which the battle is already over would require extra run time, but I think a lot of the magic in of the KnY anime adaptation (particularly since Mugen Ressha) is that Ufotable lets the emotional scenes really open up and take the space they need to, uh... breathe.

--That means giving the voice actors lots of space on the emotional scenes to build up realistic crying and give pauses. Daki's crying always hits me hardest, but Gyutaro's narration and the way he talks to the samurai he kills, also excellent. And then you have Inosuke at the very end of the episode being Not Okay. --Suma, you are a treasure

--Backing up a bit, I love how Ufotable also reads being the panels. Like that "you saved me, Nezuko?" sure as help can mean "you eliminated the last of an Upper Moon's attack with her fire?" why not. And it is such Kimetsu Logic to not tell us Nezuko can eliminate demon poison until after she's saved the night, but it also makes perfect sense.

--After all the sting of losing Rengoku, losing Uzui was dangled in front of us, and the fact that we get to keep him makes this victory over an Upper Moon all the more victorious and sweet. Oyakata-sama's moment of feel on emotion at the end of the episode, a very different state than we've ever seen him, really shows how momentous this is too.

--But also, if he had died there, it truly would have been one of the most horrific deaths of the series, because he'd have done so with the very flamboyant knowledge of having missed his chance to say any last words because his wives were being so themselves. And he is just there just feeling numbness take over his tongue, knowing he lost his chance. I love that look on his face as it hits him that this is really how he's stuck going, and the rocks hitting is still peak comedy.

--I mentioned in the last episode just how fast this whole battle was, and I think this provides very interesting insight about Iguro in a couple ways. First, there is the possibility that a crow went seeking Iguro's help the moment it say a Corp member fighting an Upper Moon (Tanjiro fighting Daki, who could still be mistaken for an Upper Moon at the time), but the crow still needed time to get to wherever Iguro was. Iguro probably started running as soon as he heard, but the battle really was over too fast for him to help. The other possibility is that as soon as Uzui told Tanjiro and Inosuke to leave, he reached out to Iguro for help, which would imply both A) humility and B) perhaps aside from proximity, he chose Iguro as the best choice of a Pillar to help him with this mission, whether based on the merits of Snake Breath or his trust in Iguro. Either way, Iguro already knew Tanjiro was involved--perhaps Uzui mentioned it (in which case, Iguro would had thought Tanjiro left as ordered), or the crow specifically told him, "Kamado Tanjiro is going head to head against an Upper Moon," in which case he of course assumed Tanjiro was already dead.

--This is actually a great moment of characterization for Iguro, who sees no personal value in living except to fight demons, as he does not seem himself deserving of love. That gives him no way to understand how Uzui would dare to prioritize a loving married life.

--Of course, the course of this episode is the Shabana sibling back story, and I think it's one of the demon backstories with layers of irony most seamlessly worked into the events of the plot. Besides the Kamado sibling foil, you've got Gyutaro calling Tanjiro names, Daki telling Zenitsu that only the beautiful have power, Daki getting set on fire by Nezuko, Daki offering to pluck out and eat Tanjiro's left eye and having Gyutaro's left eye on her forehead, snow on the night they became demons and snow on the night of the promise they are strongest together, memories of snow while facing the fires of hell, choosing the darkness over the light, Gyutaro starting with a horrid existence by finding Ume's birth changed all that and his outlook totally improved, and just when he thinks things are going to really get better they get horrifically worse, and he changes his tune to saying that never had anything good in the first place and no matter how many times he's reborn he'll always rue those who had things good for them. Ume was the good change in his fortune. That makes it hurt all the more when he yells at her that his life would had been easier without her, and that this rejection continues into the afterlife when he tries to cut ties for her own sake.

#KnY Rewatch #my art #daki #gyutaro #gyuutarou

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doe-eyed-fool · 1 month

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Fear Of The Known

Lucifer x Fem!Angel!Reader

|Preview|

Summery: The future was a scary and unknown thing. Not even God could predict what might happen down the line. And so, when faced with the unknown, he would create someone who could look into the future and what it has to offer.

However, with the knowledge what would be, comes with a heavy burden. Fate was unkind to most and not every future would be bright.

Warning(s): Angst, Violence, Major Character Death, OOC, AU(maybe?), Use Of Y/n, Slow burn, Friends To Lovers

(Pretty much gonna assume the personalities of characters we've yet to see in Hazbin. I'm also basing a lot of the angel/heaven characters off of what I've seen from apieceofheaven and voidseeker's au/characters. Though my interpretation will be very loose and some somewhat personal hcs since there is no longer a solid platform to read that info from. (other than the reposts I can find from Pinterest and Google)

One more thing, there might be some changes made to certain characters. Also, I'm not religious, so I might get some things wrong. I apologize in advance.)

Y/n was a young woman, destined to work close with the higher ups of Heaven, due to the gift she was given. God chose her to be the angel who would prophesy the future.

The symbol of a bright shining star on her forehead acted as a third eye. It would be what aids her as she looks into the future. And for the longest time, the future seemed bright.

Although, the future was not just one straight line. There were many pathways that could be opened by the smallest of acts.

But from how well everything was managed in Heaven, the best future possible, seemed as if the only real future ahead.

No worries, no danger, nothing to disrupt the heavenly balance. Yes, it was all smooth sailing ahead.

Y/n loved her job, and found great joy in telling others of the wonderful future that lies ahead for everyone. However, there would come a day, where the future was changed for the worst.

And it all started with one man...

Lucifer was one of God's favorite angels. He was bright, creative, brilliant. Though, he was a bit of a trouble maker, and would often drag his brothers into joining his mischievous acts.

Well, perhaps mischief wasn't the best way to describe it. Curiosity, was a better way of putting it. But even then, that curiosity would lead him to trouble.

It was a good thing God was so forgiving of Lucifer.

Even Y/n couldn't stay mad at him whenever he got her involved, asking her to use her future vision to see how his actions would effect something or someone.

And every time she'd say-

"My power is not to be abused, Lucifer."

As disappointed as he always was whenever she refused to indulge him, he'd never force her to do something she didn't want to. But boy, was he persistent.

Eventually, his curiosity rubbed off on Y/n. And she took a small peak into Lucifer's future. As she suspected, Lucifer would live happily and sharing his creativity with all of Heaven to enjoy.

Yes. Another wonderful future for all.

But then, another path was opened to her eyes. What she saw, concerned her.

Heaven was in chaos, and Lucifer was at the center of it all.

Y/n didn't dare look any further than that. And she would not say a word about this to Lucifer either. She had a feeling it would have negatively affected him.

However, she couldn't keep this to herself. She needed to tell God about the future she saw. It was the first time she had ever seen Heaven so...frazzled.

As if something terrible were about to happen.

The suspense of not knowing ate at her. If she were to tell God of such a future, she would need to know exactly why and how it would happen. And so, she looked again.

There Lucifer was again. He looked so angry, but so sad at the same time. And there was someone else with him. A tall and beautiful woman with long blonde hair. Lucifer held an arm out protectively in front of her as he yelled something.

He looked injured. Blood stained his beautiful face, as well as his robes. Even his wings were damaged.

Ahead of Lucifer was Michael. Sword in hand, the blade pointing towards Lucifer. He looked a bit roughed up as well. Had they been fighting? Why would they ever fight?

Chains were thrown around Lucifer and the woman he was with, and then, there was a vision of Lucifer and that same woman inside of Heaven's courtroom. Words were being yelled back and forth from Lucifer and the head Seraphim, Sera.

But Joel would have the final word.

There was a look of panic on Lucifer's face. The chains that bind him disappeared and the ground beneath them gave in. With quick thinking, Lucifer held onto that woman tightly, shielding her with his wings.

And just like that, the both fell.

Y/n gasped sharply as the vision faded.

"Lucifer...Lucifer falls from Heaven."

Ok! New series! First chapter is gonna be published tomorrow!

And chapter two is already being worked on lol

#hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar

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yanderes-galore · 3 months

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Can I request ragnvaldr hc from f&h?

Sure! Honestly the last main Funger 1 character I have to do after this is probably Enki if he's requested. Not fully proofread, there may be mistakes.

Yandere! Ragnvaldr Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Trauma, Dark themes, Death/Mass Murder, Violence, Threats, Blood, Gore, Jealousy, Possessive/Protective behavior, Forced relationship, Fear and Hunger content.

Ragnvaldr was born with the soul of the tormented, he's destined to struggle in his life... which is what made him what he is.

I feel his obsession counts as one of those struggles.

He's incredibly strong and has an iron will.

He was forced to come back to his home to see his entire tribe and village dead by The Knights of The Midnight Sun.

This included his wife and child.

He enters the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger to find Le'garde and exact revenge.

In fact, his only goal is revenge.

Yet while try to pursue his goal, he finds you.

You are pleasant distraction... a sight for sore eyes in a place such as the dungeons.

Ragnvaldr tries not to distract himself too much with you, he has a goal.

But you still manage to tag along... at first just following from behind.

When he confronts you and asks what you're planning, you say you want to help his quest.

You don't want to be alone here.

For some reason, Ragnvaldr takes pity on you and allows you to follow along with him.

Perhaps you reminded him of the family he used to have.

Ragnvaldr, despite his appearance, is capable of being kind.

When you follow along on his quest he teaches you important skills.

While he's capable of taking on threats, you stick by to heal him and keep him going with whatever supplies you find.

You try not to ask much about his motivations but you can tell he's hellbent on something.

I feel out of the entire main cast for Funger 1, Ragnvaldr is the most terrifying as a yandere due to his physical prowess.

I feel Cahara is bad due to his touchy and persistent nature, D'arce is bad due to her delusional behavior, Enki may be bad psychologically, but Ragnvaldr is bad since he is so strong.

You've seen how he can tear through threats in this place.

Especially if you see how he treats Le'garde when he gets his hands on him.

You look away when Ragnvaldr deals with Le'garde, if the fool is even alive when you get there.

It's not the worst thing you've seen.

Ragnvaldr probably uses you as a way to cope with the loss of his family.

That can be by seeing you as a close companion or perhaps even another romantic partner.

Ragnvaldr seems like he's be possessive but also protective.

He won't admit it but he dreads the thought of losing you.

As a result he works hard to keep you beside him.

If you seem upset or are losing sanity, he'll be by your side to hold you.

He probably dislikes you taking in other people to the group, like Cahara, D'arce, or Enki.

However, he holds his rage back.

Oh... but imagine Ragnvaldr during his S Ending as a yandere.

You watch as this man slaughters every paranormal creature in his path, all to soothe his bloodlust and protect you.

Seeing Ragnvaldr covered in blood becomes the norm for you.

He probably would even target party members, driven completely by the thought that they could take you.

At the peak of his obsession there's a good chance Ragnvaldr is covered in blood, giving you a stare that's both of adoration and something else entirely.

You originally followed him for protection... but now you fear he's a monster like the rest of the creatures in this dungeon.

But there's nothing much you can do when he pulls you into his bare chest, the blood smearing on your clothes and face.

He holds your face with bloody hands, he vows he won't ever hurt you or let anything hurt you.

Really... what can hurt you anymore?

Ragnvaldr would/already has slaughtered everything and everyone you come across.

All that's left is the blood on you and him.

He looks at you with such... obsession.

You could almost mistake it for care.

Now you're nearly completely alone, except for the Outlander in front of you.

He'll even drag you out of the dungeons with him, covered in blood, the both of you affected by the horrors you've seen.

You would call it bad...

But honestly, nothing compares to the horrors you've seen in there.

Not even the blood and gore Ragnvaldr leaves behind as he swears to care for you.

"Now nothing can hurt you... I won't let it. Every creature and person who dares to touch you will die by my hands... painfully.... Nothing will come between you and me, not even the gods."

#yandere fear and hunger #yandere funger #yandere ragnvaldr #yandere funger outlander

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astrumark · 1 year

Text

── WHERE IT TRULY LIES ★.

PAIRING: aemond targaryen x female reader.

SUMMARY: you are now a happily married woman, however, aemond will always pull you back.

WARNINGS: smut with plot, infidelity, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, face-sitting, p in v, mild choking, and dirty talk.

WC: 7.4K

NOTES: this is not new, i've deleted it accidently (yikes) and wasn't going to upload again but a lovely soul reached out and they haven't read it yet so here it is! as the title might give away this was inspired by the song moth to a flame - the weeknd. hope you enjoy!

He knew he couldn't marry you, as a prince of the realm, and on the verge of civil war, once his father passed, Aemond needed to secure an advantageous marriage with a powerful house, one that would increase their army numbers. You were not fit. Regardless of his affection for you: duty comes first. That is what his mother taught him. Under different circumstances, perhaps it could've worked out, you were not a lowborn, but your position was simply not high enough.

Aemond could be a cruel man, yes, but never with you. You have found your way into his heart a long time ago when you were but children. He couldn't be selfish and hold you back because of his desires because he also knew you needed to marry soon.

"You might do well to find yourself a suitor." He said in between kisses, you were straddling his lap on the sofa of his quarters, grinding on his bulge slightly, his breath stuttering as he held onto your waist.

You pulled away, with furrowed brows, swollen lips, and lustful eyes. The sight was almost too much for Aemond to bear. "What?"

"You heard me." Shadows danced across his face and you believed Aemond bathed by the candlelight was undoubtedly one of the finest views you have ever seen.

You hummed, a habit you picked up because of him, and then smirked. "Are you trying to get rid of me?" Your lips encountered his neck, leaving a trail of hot and wet kisses.

Aemond squirmed underneath you, holding your arms as he gently pushed you away. "I am not jesting," His expression was stern. "We cannot keep this going for longer, we must tend to our duties."

Your secret affair with Aemond started when you were both six and ten, nurturing an honest friendship long before that. The mutual pining reached its peak during a calm evening at the library. Over the years, you both found immense comfort in each other's arms. There have been a few whispers here and there, but that was the end of it. No clear evidence.

He paused. "My grandsire and mother were discussing convenient marriage pacts for me this afternoon. I will not remain unmarried for long, nor should you." His tone was not harsh, just plain.

"Let me help you, I want to be sure you will be safe. You must understand, my darling, this comes from a place of genuine concern. I promise to find you a worthy match, I want you to be settled." His warm fingertips softly brushed over your uncovered arms, making goosebumps arise on your skin.

You huffed defeated, you were aware that your time as someone unwed was running low, and you didn't need Aemond to remind you of that. However, when your eyes fixed on his you couldn't even find it in yourself to be cross with him, for you found nothing but tenderness in his violet iris, eye carefully studying your reaction.

"I know, Aemond. But I won't find myself a suitor the next morning. But fear not, I am not in secret hopes of marrying you." Your hands wrapped around his neck.

You nodded earnestly. Aemond watched you carefully for a few seconds before he locked his lips with yours once again, slow and tender. All of your thoughts and worries completely disappeared the moment he picked you up and threw you into his soft mattress, his lean body hovering over yours.

Aemond remained true to his words and pondered the options for you. He didn't want you to move away from King's Landing, for you were, most importantly, his friend and he would rather have you close to him. The prince didn't want you to be married to a disrespectful or much older man either. Soon he concluded that he should set you up with someone who was somewhat familiar to him, so he could be certain you would be treated well and watch over you from time to time.

Aemond was not one to often engage with lords, but he didn't completely despise Hadwyn Manning. The young lord had recently become head of his house and retained a large control over Blackwater Bay. He was rich enough, near enough, decent enough. The prince approached your father subtly, planting the idea inside the older man's head. It didn't take long until words of your courtship spread around the Red Keep.

Hadwyn was a 24-year-old man, with light brown locks, green eyes, and tanned skin. The lord has already been married and fathered a child with his late wife who unfortunately passed with a sudden fever. Due to already having an heir, Hadwyn wasn't keen to rush marital matters, and he made it quite clear. He would rather take his time knowing you to be certain and so he did.

Countless letters were exchanged, thoughtful gifts received, and many promenades transpired. Hadwyn had even taken you to a ride on one of his boats and prepared you the sweetest picnic while at it.

It was clear he was charmed by you. It's there in the way his eyes glistened when looking at you, and the grin that never left his mouth, the fact he would give you his undivided attention at all times, listening and watching you assiduously, and in the gentle touches. He was a gracious man, respectful and flirtatious at the same time. And you like him. Yet… there's still a longing lodged in your heart, a small part of you feeling empty and cold no matter what you do or think.

It had been part of your accord to end your rendezvous once either of you became betrothed, returning to being friends only to not complicate the situation. It seemed easy back then, but in truth, it wasn't. You craved for his touch just as a drunken craved for liquor, so much it was best to keep your distance. It seemed as if without Aemond, the world was less exciting and less colorful.

Visiting the Red Keep again, as per usual now, Hadwyn strolled with you around the garden. You held the puppy close to your chest, giggling and rubbing the animal's small belly as he writhes around, trying to bite anything it could grasp. You've mentioned on different occasions how you would like to have a pet, but that you weren't allowed to, and Lord Manning had now presented you with one. You were as surprised as overjoyed.

Aemond watched from afar, sitting on a bench. In a rare occurrence, he found himself free from tasks during the early afternoon and decided to accompany his sister and nephews to the gardens. A handmaid walked around with Maelor, who seemed entertained with the bushes, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera played with wooden toys on the grass, and Helaena stood not far, studying a dragonfly she caught. For anyone, Aemond seemed as stoic as ever, but there was turmoil inside him.

Hadwyn was doubtless enchanted by you and treated you kindly, and you seemed to like his company as well if your flushed cheeks and chuckles were any indicative, and as your friend, he should be content. This was his doing in a sort of way, so his discomfort was unwelcome and confusing. His building rage and jealousy were unwelcome and confusing. His fists tightened by his side, trying to control himself. Do not be selfish, Aemond.

After the dragonfly flew away from her hand, Helaena sat beside her brother, sighing as she breathed in the fresh air. Her gaze fell on you as well after a specific loud laugh, and she smiled softly at the couple playing with the puppy. When you put the dog on the floor and started following it sprinting around while chatting with your suitor, your hand brushed his, and after a shy glance, Hadwyn intertwined them together. A chaperone trailed behind you, not close but not far either, giving you the required privacy.

"They are sweet." Her voice was like cotton.

"Yes." It's all the one-eyed said, tone devoid of any emotion.

"Lord Manning seems like a very devoted man, I am happy for her. Not many women have the same luck. She deserves it."

Aemond nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "Most certainly."

Your wedding gown was exquisite, fitting you like a glove, your hair and skin glowing. Your cheeks had been pinched and lips scrubbed with sugar and honey, and the smell of your fragrance lingered around the room. You have asked for a minute alone, preparing for your entrance. The ceremony was not the most luxurious, but it was lovely. You had personally dealt with the decorations, the musicians, and with the kitchen workers, making choices according to your liking.

When the door burst open you expected to see your father ready to escort you, and your eyes widened upon seeing Aemond. "What are you doing here?"

He made fast and long strides towards you, eye devouring the bittersweet sight of you. His hand then moved to your waist, bringing you closer to his body. "You look ravishing, my love."

Gods, you almost melted, breath caught in your throat and heart pounding as you felt his touch again and heard him praise you in such a velvety voice. A part of you wished to close your eyes and relish in the moment, forgetting all about what expected you on the other side of the door, but you found enough strong will to push his arms away from you. "Don't."

Aemond crossed his arms behind his back, noticing how your breath got heavier and smirking, knowing you're still so responsive to his touch satisfied him.

"You are right. My apologies, my lady." He didn't sound sorry in the slightest.

You fought back a smile at his behavior. "What is it, my Prince? What are your reasons for barging in here?"

"I wish to give you a wedding gift, before the ceremony."

You raised your eyebrows curiously, prompting him to continue.

He grinned a little before reaching his pocket, it was small enough to fit the palm of his hand, one he'd closed. You stepped closer, intrigued, and when he opened his palm, you gasped. Your eyes found his face, no doubt reminiscing the gem beneath his eyepatch, one you had grown used to and attached to.

Grabbing the ring from his palm, you studied it in awe. It had to be the most delicate jewelry you had ever seen, and it shined so bright, from the oval sapphire as the center stone to the scalloped diamonds accenting both sides, covering almost all of the ring with its shine.

"Every time you look at it, I want you to remember me, and our pleasurable time together," Aemond said and your cheeks warmed up. "Can you do it for me?" His hand touched your face daintily. "My star in the mist, will you not forget about us?"

"Never." You whispered but there was no falter in your voice, it was the truth. Aemond chuckled softly, nodding briefly.

Perhaps Aemond could still be a little selfish and give in to his jealousy, perhaps he needed to. He needed to see if he still had some power over you since you had been so busy lately with your future husband and the wedding planning, perhaps he needed you to wear a piece of him. It was obviously more than a wedding gift, it was an odd sort of claim. But a secret claim, such as your secret affair.

"Let me," He grabbed the ring and your hand, and you licked your lips nervously. Slowly, he placed the jewelry on your finger. You knew there was a deeper meaning behind the item, which was slightly amusing, nonetheless, it felt right on your finger, as if it was always there, to begin with. "It suits you."

"It does." Your eyes locks with his and for a minute you get lost, letting your mind wander. Aemond recognizes the look on your face because it's the same as his. And for that minute, you both wore your heart on your sleeves. For a minute, you prayed for time to stop. Your heart ached, and so profoundly. There's no need for words. You both understand each other's thoughts and feelings as if attached to a strange magic bond. It's yearning, it's acceptance, and most of all, sorrow.

Aemond pulled you by the back of your neck and rested his forehead against yours, breathing your scent. Your eyes shut, humming and brushing your noses. It's so comforting to be with him, feel him, breathe him. The prince leaned in and you opened your eyes, there's a silent question behind his eye, but before you could answer it, you heard heavy footsteps outside. He pulled back, recomposing himself. Your father looked shocked to see Aemond but he was soon soothed with the blonde's silver tongue and his excellent excuse. He leaves you without another word, only a nod.

The ceremony went smoothly, and you tried your best to focus on the feast happening around you. You entertained the guests and danced and pampered your new husband, but not as much as he pampered you. Any person would deem the ceremony as fun and would claim that you two were completely in love. Truth be told, you weren't in love with Hadwyn, but as you giggled the night away, you strongly believed it wouldn't be a hard task to be. You hoped it wouldn't.

It was a relief to know Hadwyn wasn't pretending to be someone he's not until you become his, for the lord remained as sweet and caring as ever through the moons following your wedding. You lived together harmoniously, and his son, barely three, quickly grew attached to you. It was a calm and quiet life most would be satisfied with.

It didn't stop you from thinking about Aemond, however. To reminisce about his touches and kisses as you pleasured yourself, and it became worse after you first visited the Red Keep after your wedding. Until then, you had exchanged innocent letters, the kind all childhood friends shared after moving away, but being close again stirred something you could no longer hold back.

You also have come to terms with the fact you would never feel for him as much as you feel for Aemond. They were entirely distinct. While Hadwyn was a faint flame of a bonfire in the morning, low but constant and warm, Aemond was dragon-fire itself, boiling, wild, dangerous, and consuming. And that's alright. Maybe different loves are meant to feel differently.

It was there when Aemond's gaze moved from your husband to land on your hand, the one the sapphire ring laid, you had not taken it off, his violet eye darkened considerably, and a smile that could only be described as smug crept into his face.

For the rest of your stay it had been torture, the way he'd pressed his body against your back when you were practicing the bow and arrow for good fun, or the way his hand brushed yours as he passed you the milk during breakfast, when you were laughing together in the library and he accidentally laid his hand on your covered thigh, or how his chair was too close during supper, his delicious scent invading your nostrils and making your stomach tingle with a forbidden desire.

You believed it was simply a coincidence until you were back home and his letters shifted from friendly to immoral, and you had to burn it the second you finished reading them. In the first one, he explicitly wrote how your dress accentuated your body and how he wished to rip it off and absolutely devour you. The harsh and filthy words make you dumbfounded and horny, cheeks burning and an uncomfortable and sticky pool between your legs. You didn't know what had gotten into him, or even you for entertaining his sick behavior, as you replied to each of them in the same way. It was shameful and wrong, but as everything involving Aemond, it was also thrilling. And in all honesty, you could never deny him.

And then you reached your breaking point. You sneaked out of your shared bed in the middle of the night, your husband soundly asleep, and made your way to a reclusive inn. You paced around the room, fidgeting with the sleeve of your cloak as you waited for Aemond. Sending him only a small note with an address, you had no clue he'd come. Certainly, now that the war broke out, he had more urgent matters to attend to, so were you being selfish for wanting and almost demanding him? Absolutely, but so was he when he didn't let you go once you got married, so was he enticing you with filthy letters and making you sin even more for him.

The crack of the door makes your blood rush in your veins, breath stuck in your throat as you turn around. There he stands, in all his haughtiness, even when he's almost all covered by his cloak. He pulls the hood down, smirking at you. There's only silence as you watch him slowly take off the cloak and throw it on a chair. You lick your lips as you take in his leather clothing, then he proceeds to remove his worn and brown eyepatch, the one he would only use to run around King's Landing undetected. Your eyes trail his body hungrily, the glistening gemstone only making the knot in your stomach tighten. It's truly almost painful the sight of him, having him so close, and completely alone. You can ghostly feel his touch and smell already, and your heart hammers against your ribcage. You approach him under his amused gaze.

"I know you are up to no good to bring me to such a place at the hour of the owl." Aemond says as you halt in front of him.

"You are correct." You glance at his curved lips for a second before locking your eyes with his violet one again.

"Where's your dear husband I wonder?" He asks mockingly.

"Sleeping." You tilt your head, smiling slightly.

"Unaware you seek the company of another?"

"Not just another..."

"What else?" He questions curiously.

"The most charming and fierce prince of the realm. Hardly an offense."

Aemond rolls his eye, lips twitching upwards. "Quit your flattery."

"Do not pretend you don't love it."

"Have you enjoyed my letters?"

"Greatly, the same amount I despised it as well." Aemond scoffs. "What happened to our terms?"

"Impracticable."

"Were they?" You raise your eyebrow.

"Yes. How am I supposed to not fuck you anymore when I already got the taste of the most delicious cunt there is?"

You smirk, his crude words making your core clench around nothing. "Flattering me as well?"

"Simply being honest." He twirls a piece of your hair around his finger, placing his hand on your jaw after. "Does he fucks you good?"

You pause, remembering your intimacy with Hadwyn. It is not awful, just plain. It happens what you expect, and nothing else. You didn't feel comfortable telling him more of your preferences, afraid he would think low of you if you did so. Although recently you had managed to bring his hand to your bud and rode him once, it seemed he preferred to keep it as usual. With Aemond you never had to ask, it was always instinctively, you guessed he probably read many books about intercourse before laying with you because you knew he didn't have many experiences either. One, to be precise, and you doubt it actually counts, he was just a child after all. His question triggers a pang of guilt to wash over you, though. Your husband has been nothing but kind, and how do you repay him?

"I must be a terrible person." You mutter.

"You are not," You look at him incredulously. "A terrible wife, mayhaps, but not a terrible person."

You can't help the snicker falling off your lips as you hit his chest playfully. "Stop making me feel more guilty than I already do!"

Aemond hums, raising a brow. "Not guilty enough to stop you from answering my letters or coming here late at night." You avert your eyes.

"It 's alright. Did we once follow the traditions? Do you believe the Seven thought of us as fewer sinners when we engaged in sexual activities before marriage because we were unwed?" He grabs your chin. "Do not be ashamed. You are mine and cannot resist me. You and I are meant to be, we are more than a mere convenient marriage. Ain't I too supposed to be faithful to my future bride?"

"Is your betrothed very lovely?"

"You will be relieved to know you have ruined me. No other woman compares to you. Ever." Your heart flutters with his words. "Floris Baratheon seemed the least irritating of the sisters, that is all."

"Have you enjoyed my letters?"

"I keep them all." He answers, leaning his face closer to yours. Your knees almost fail you as you inhale his scent of leather, sandalwood, and bergamot. "Have you missed me as I missed you, my beautiful girl?"

"Possibly even more." You confess.

"Tell me why you invited me here, I need to hear it from your pretty mouth." His thumb trails over your lower lip.

"I was expecting you to keep to your word." You tease.

He chuckles. "That would take days."

"Certainly you can arrange some time for an old friend…"

His good eye seems to glimmer as much as the sapphire replacing the other. "Will this be an occurrence?"

You fidget with the button of his tunic. "It seems we cannot keep apart from each other, so I would guess so." You look into his eye.

"Mhm." His arm sneaks around your waist, bringing you even closer to his body, and you place your hands on his shoulders. "You haven't said it yet." He tilts his head.

You breathe in and gulps. "I brought you here because I want you to fuck me."

Aemond smiles, actually smile. Most certainly smugly, but he displayed all of his teeth in his adorable grin, and you love to see it, a smile appears on your face as well, almost unconsciously just by seeing his.

"As my lady wishes."

It's blazing when your lips meet, not loving or gentle, but rather fervent and harsh. You moan into his mouth when his tongue touches yours, and all guilt leaves you at once. At that moment everything that wasn't Aemond ceased to exist. As it always happened when you were with him, you only cared for his touch.

The time apart makes it even better, the leather beneath your fingers comforting. His other hand goes to the back of your head, and you continue to kiss him eagerly, your body trembling even with so little stimulation. You bite his lips as you part slightly for air, and then your mouths are locked again. The kiss slows down a bit, becoming more appreciative as both of you delight in the exchange and each other's taste, but it remains just as lustful.

Aemond swiftly takes your cloak off and you struggle off your shoes, the prince does the same. You help Aemond out of his tunic after you are done and his undershirt goes flying across the room in one go. You touch his toned abdomen before your lips find his chest and neck, the low groan coming from Aemond stirring you up, your mouth trails down as you kiss all of his stomach, kneeling down in front of him. Aemond looks at you in anticipation as you undo his belt and pulls his trousers down, the leather a little too tight.

Once his veiny and semi-hard cock springs free, your mouth starts watering. You don't take your eyes off it as you stroke him, making Aemond gasp loudly. Your eyes darken, even the smell of his manhood tantalizing you. He's definitely above average, straight, long, and thick enough to give the best stretch without making you uncomfortable, with large veins running through the base and a pinkish tip. You can't help yourself as you insert his head in your mouth with a loud pop, he tastes so divine. You smirk at him as he let out a strained moan, your tongue then sliding across his slit. Aemond's hand grips your hair with a decompensated breath.

You start kissing and licking around his shaft attentively, tongue flat while savoring it and purposely teasing him more before you stroke his cock a few more times and proceeds to put half of his length in your mouth, Aemond trembles upon feeling your hot and soft lips around him, a growl escaping his mouth.

"Oh, fuck, yes. You look so beautiful, my dear."

Your cheeks hollows, head bobbing back and forth as you suck him into your mouth, humming against his member, the sensation of pleasuring him way too good, and tears start to prickle your eyes. You fist his cock and lap on him relentlessly, even when you pull him out, your lips keep locked on him, tongue running around his shaft before you swallow him again, the fullness of your mouth making you grow even wetter. You look up at him as you gag on his cock, mouth squeezing his manhood, and his head is thrown back, brows furrowed and pink lips parted, his good eye is half-closed while the sapphire sparkles bright, the most wonderful sight one could lay eyes on. His grunts become more prominent as he lets you lead, and you can feel your cunt throbbing achingly now. You give him all the devotion you can master through it, your other hand gently massaging his balls and receiving the most delightful sounds in return.

You smirk at him, taking him out of your mouth sloppily once again to catch your breath, his cock coated with your saliva. You slap it on your face before sucking it again as if your life depends on it. He was so addicting.

"By the Gods," He mutters with a grunt.

It's when you quicken your pace that it feels as if something quite feral snaps inside Aemond. He starts to grow impatient and jerks his hips against your face, his closed fist on your hair more harsh and demanding, his pace becomes so brutish now that you stop stroking him, both your hands laying on his bare thigh for support, your nails digging deeply into his skin as you moan, no doubt bruising it later. It is impossible to fit all of his length in your mouth, but Aemond is certainly determined to do so, a flow of hot tears fall down your eyes as he fucks your mouth, your throat burning with the invasion. It's dirty, uncomfortable, and absolutely ecstatic. Aemond does not care for you or your whines or your gagging one bit now, he only cares for his enjoyment and release and you are more than happy to assist him with it. Lewdy sounds echo in the room as his tip hits the back of your throat mercilessly. You push his thigh as you pull back for air, your appearance disheveled.

"Come on my face, please." You say out of breath, a split of saliva hanging between his cock and your mouth as you stroke his length rapidly and suck his head again.

The sight below him accompanied by your words are enough to send Aemond over the edge, and with a high-pitched moan, his hot load hits your face, painting a few parts of it white. You stick your tongue out and shut your eyes as your hand continues to jerk him, swallowing his spend that falls on your tongue and gathering the amount that landed on your face.

"So good," You praise him, licking your fingers clean. "So fucking good." You give his head another lick, making him whine due to sensitivity.

You giggle and get up, Aemond immediately tasting himself on your lips in a messy and lecherous kiss. Lowering himself to your feet the prince grabs the ends of your dress and removes it anxiously. Your choice of dress was a very simple and easy to take off one, and you didn't bother to wear a shift underneath tonight either, aware of the sinful practices you planned to indulge in, leaving you completely bare now. Aemond stares at your nakedness with a pleasant hum and blown eye.

"Go to bed and spread your legs for me." He commands as he discards your dress somewhere.

When your back hits the bed, you immediately open your legs to him, hand provocatively touching your breasts, there's no shyness, only a burning desire to be seen by him. You bite your lips as you notice how his violet eye has turned almost all black now. He fists his cock a couple of times at the sight of you, one he wishes to never forget.

He makes his way toward the bed, kneeling in front of you. Bringing your body forward, he leaves a trail of kisses on your inner thighs, which makes you shudder. "I have missed this sweet cunt so much…"

His middle finger parts your folds, gathering your juices next to your hole and then coming back up to circle your sensitive bud. You moan with the touch, brows furrowed and lifting your hips slightly, and you can hear Aemond chuckling. "So wet for me it's pitiful, truly." He continues to touch you teasingly, fingers pressed tightly to your heat as he drags it around. You can only hum in response, already lost in your pleasure, you feel completely on fire.

"Do you know why?" He moves his hand away, pressing his lips to your bud in a light kiss and making you whimper with the action. "Because it knows it belongs to me, it's as clear as day." He spits on your cunt crudely before immediately lapping on it, your back arching involuntarily as your moans get louder.

His warm tongue twirls between your folds slowly, making you whimper and bite your lips harshly, it's been so long since you have been eaten out that it feels like a dream, your face immediately twists in pleasure as shivers run down your spine with the missed sensation of his lips on your sex. Aemond sucks your bundle of nerves, making you gasp, your hands going to his silky hair as you press his face even further in your cunt. Aemond's tongue slides all over your womanhood as he sucks and licks you as if it was the air that he breathes. He closes his eye for a second, groaning lowly against your cunt due to his own enjoyment.

"Mhm," He grunts. "So fucking tasty."

His tongue teases your hole before coming back up to suck harshly on your sensitive bud unabated, you watch him with hooded eyes, his name on your lips like a prayer.

"Yes, the best thing I have ever tasted," He continues lapping on you, one of his hands holding your cunt open to give him better access. "You're doing so good, my beauty."

He spits on you one more time, mouth devouring you. He easily inserts two fingers into your soaked cunt, and you cannot control the sounds that leave your lips anymore. He curls his fingers inside you as his tongue whirls on your clit, his pumping quickening as you jerk your hips against his face and hand. It's so exceptional, his long fingers reaching a spongy spot you cannot on your own. In an urge to grab something, one of your hands squeezes your breasts as you whimper uncontrollably. You open your eyes again to see he's already looking directly at you as his tongue moves side to side on your cunt. You bite your lips so hard it draws blood.

Getting up on your elbows, you watch as he gives you long licks up and down, then twirls it around your bud again and sucks it into his mouth, his fingers inside you not faltering, you relish in the stimulation on both your core and bud, making your eyes roll back as not one coherent thought crosses your mind. You feel goosebumps all over your skin and pathetic gibberish leaves your mouth. Aemond continues to work you on, his tongue and fingers getting faster and making your moans break. You can feel your release building up on your lower belly as you shut your eyes, cunt clenching tightly around his fingers, and you are so ready for it, to let it go and cry in pleasure, you are close, so close… and he stops, pulling away.

You look at him with a mixture of confusion, anger, and frustration. He chuckles at you, licking the fingers that were inside you seconds ago.

"I need you to sit on my face, pet."

Your stomach tingles upon hearing his words and you can only nod, moving aside so he could lay on the bed. When Aemond is settled, you straddle his face, holding onto the cool headboard and being careful as to not put all of your weight on him, you lower your cunt to his mouth, immediately gasping when you do so. Aemond holds on to your upper thighs tightly, keeping you in place and moaning into your heat as he starts licking you fervently once again.

You can't help yourself as you grind and roll your hips on his mouth, hands pinching your nipples as your pace quickens. Aemond doesn't leave an inch of your cunt out of his affections, sucking hard as he groans against you in delight. When his tongue enters your hole you are moaning so loud you are certain the whole inn could hear you, but that was far from being a concern to you. You need to hold on to the headboard again, knuckles whitening with the force you put on it. His name is on your lips as a mantra now while you bounce on him, your stomach churning. Then, his tongue is all around you again, relaxed and hot as he works his magic with purpose.

You keep your eyes locked on Aemond the whole time, the sight of him under you and satisfying your desires only adding more intensity to your pleasure. He looks so pretty and alluring like this, his adorable lips so keen to make you happy, eating you out so well and good, you bite your lips again while smiling down at him. You grind more relentlessly now, not even trying to be careful, the feel of his mouth paired with the faint brush of his chin and the tip of his nose on your cunt is the best thing you have ever experienced.

Your peak comes down abruptly and feels like a million stars exploding at once, a long scream on your lips. Your head falls back, black dots covering your vision as your legs tremble. You cry as Aemond continues to lap on your sensitive cunt, kissing it multiple times after.

Admirably your legs didn't fail you and you manage to get off his face, body falling limp on the bed. The ceiling above you is spinning as your heart palpitates in your ears. It takes a minute for your breath to stabilize, and when you look at Aemond he is grinning like a maniac, chin glistening with your juices, and you both laugh at each other out of bliss.

Aemond moves to hover over you, his mouth finding yours in a long and deep kiss, your legs wrap around his waist as one of his hands squeezes your breasts before cradling your face. Your lips move harmoniously together, tongues caressing one another.

It's so soothing, you feel so at peace and so light, just as the sound of the wind passing through the trees. There is no rush, only long kisses and pecks, hooded eyes, and silly little smiles. It's not sexual, and it's not innocent, it's just two people taking their time with each other. You lost track of time in your consuming passion, too occupied in the sheer joy of the prince's soft lips and naked body pressed against yours.

Slowly but as expected, the kisses start to grow needier, your breathing becoming erratic and your womanhood pulsating. You grind against Aemond's stiffness and he sighs deeply, his mouth moving to your neck as he sucks and bites your sweet spot and makes you shiver, then trailing down to your breasts as he puts one in his mouth, twirling his tongue around your nipple. He pulls back a little, holding his hard cock and running it in between your folds before he calmly and gently slides into you.

Your eyes close with the feeling, the stretch his girth gives is simply extraordinary and so fulfilling. You start whimpering as he settles in the middle of your legs, nothing and no one else could make you feel this way, to reach that specific spot, and your cunt is clenching tightly around him.

"Fuck, sweet thing," He breathes out. "You feel even tighter. Is your husband fucking you at all?"

He starts to thrust on you slowly, and your eyes roll back again, gasping loudly as you relish the feel of his cock inside you, so marvelous. Aemond lets his face fall in the crook of your neck, to feel your soft walls around him an absolute blessing in his opinion, his moans are so low if you were a little bit louder yourself you wouldn't be able to hear him.

"So good…" You moan, you have missed this way too much.

"Mhm, yes, very good." He holds onto your hips tightly and your legs parts even further.

He starts to go even deeper, his hip finding a steady pace that makes you feel as if you are flying. His grunts become loud, and his hand leans your leg up to your chest as he starts to pound on you more fastly now. "Fucking perfection. You are so perfect."

You hold your leg up to help him, already a moaning mess. The cracky bed hits the wall repeatedly and you are sweating a lot, your hair sticking to your forehead. It is such a great sensation you are torn between seeking your peak and wanting it to last forever, to feel him inside you forever. It seems Aemond feels the same, because now and then when the prince believes you or himself to be close, he'd stay still inside you, completely out of breath, and hold a few seconds before starting again, a few strands of his silver locks falling into your face as he does so.

His lips wrap around yours messily, tongues locked as he keeps thrusting and grunting. His familiar scent, a cologne custom-made because he is just that snob, mixed with his sweat turns you on even more.

He parts from you for a minute, kneeling on the bed and then turning you around with impressive force and grace, your back instantly arching for him while the side of your face is pressed to the mattress. You can hear him chuckle before he slaps your ass hard, and you whine.

"You little whore," He presses the tip of his cock to your entrance and you wiggle. "My perfect little whore."

He thrust into your cunt, the new position making you euphoric, and you started to meet him at his pace, your whimpers almost pitiful. Aemond's hand grips your ass, his shoving only quickening by the second, he laughs a bit seeing your eagerness, and then he halts, letting you do the work for a while. He stares at his cock disappearing inside your cunt with a wicked glint in his eye and he needs all of his self-control to not go feral.

"Yes, yes, yes," He encourages. "You're so good at this, gorgeous. Keep on taking my cock like the cheating whore you are, oh yes."

His words make you groan, cunt tightening around him as your movements grow faster and harder, so much his cock slips out of your cunt once, but you are quick to insert it into your dripping hole again, the wet sounds of skin slapping skin nothing but obscene. Aemond watches with a smirk the way your womanhood is milking him, hands caressing and squeezing your butt as you bounce on his length.

Soon he takes control again, starting to thrust on you aggressively and steadily. You scream, the rattle of the bed growing even more strident now, and you become a babbling mess, biting into your hand to try to prevent your loud moans from being heard, a tear falling from the corner of one of your eyes. Aemond laughs amusedly.

"Oh my, you love this, don't you?"

"Y-y-yes," You stutter, brows furrowed and fists tight on the linen sheet.

"Fuck, you are heavenly," Aemond says. "And all mine."

"Uh-huh," You agree. "All yours, only yours."

He slaps the cheek of your ass again. "My princess," His pace becomes faster. "My fucking queen." He leans down, lips kissing your cheek.

In a blink of an eye, you are on your back again, Aemond's managing your body too easily. You bring both your legs up as he inserts his manhood into you, his hand wrapping around your neck as he thrust into you ruthlessly.

You can only moan, holding onto anything you can grasp, it's almost too much and you feel completely wobbly, it feels as if he was made in the most perfect size to send you to the seven heavens and back. His cock hits your cervix unrelenting, his fist tightening around your neck until you can barely breathe, the lack of air only increasing your pleasure, and then…

The knot inside you snaps in a shattering wave, your whole body shaking. It's as if you have left your body entirely and were floating around, your vision whitening and audition failing you. When you come back to your senses, Aemond is grunting lowly and thrusting into you, your cunt wrapping around his cock amazingly, with a husky and strained moan, his face twists in pleasure, eye shut and mouth agape as he spills his seed deep inside you, filling you up and you moan just by watching him. His thrusts get sloppier and weaker as he rides off his peak until his body falls on top of yours, with hitched breath and trembling slightly. You smile, one hand caressing his hair and the other his back, his skin feels almost burning under your touch.

You feel suddenly exhausted, and all you wish to do is close your eyes and succumb to slumber, but you know you cannot. It was already late when you left Hadwyn, and you do not know how much time has passed since the moment Aemond stepped inside the room. Most definitely it was already the hour of the bat, and as a heavy sleeper, you couldn't risk not waking up before dawn, your husband was a very early bird after all. Aemond looks up at you as if guessing the line of your thoughts: the prince was accustomed to you getting sleepy after your passionate activities.

"You may sleep, my beloved," His knuckle brushes against your cheek. "I shall remain awake and wake you up before the sun is up."

You smile softly at him in silent agreement and he gets off you, wrapping your bodies with the thin blanket. You rest your face on Aemond's chest and the prince hugs you closer, caressing your back and your thigh. He sighs contently.

As you quickly fall asleep, Aemond stares at you, the crickets outside the small window and the cackling of the fire are the only noises reaching his ears. He smiles upon your sleeping form, realizing no matter marriage or time, this is where you will always belong: with him, in bed, in his arms, where your heart truly lies.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfic #aemond imagines #aemond smut #hotd x reader #hotd imagines #aemond targaryen imagines

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mylittleredgirl · 7 months

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Hello friend! A friend of mine is doing a Stargate SG-1 rewatch and lamenting the slim pickings of fic on AO3. Do you know where she can find fic that perhaps is still on some old archive of yore? Or have any recs? She's mostly interested in Jack/Daniel and Jack/Sam. Ty!!

oh my. with all the love in the world to your friend visiting us from a very different fandom tax bracket than i have ever had the fortune to participate in (those two pairings have well over 6k fics each on ao3), i'll see what i can do!

[several hours of looking around later] bad news!! not much!

most of vintage sg-1 fandom was wiped out by expired domains, struck-through livejournals, ff.net's porn ban, yahoo lists, etc. some pages are still preserved in the wayback machine for heliopolis, the massive het-and-gen archive, and area52, the slash counterpart, but with the search and directory functions pretty much toast, they're almost impossible to navigate.

fanlore has an old list of archives (including plenty of jack/daniel ones). some smaller archives might yield wayback paydirt, especially if they were hand-coded. samandjack.net is still alive!

and, hate to say it, this was peak era for ff.net and they have like 30k fics over there... but all the explicit fic is gone.

i recently learned some people are still doing het-reccers (user-submitted fanfic recommendations, LJ archive is here). i don't know if any slash equivalents are still around (and i haven't looked at this site for genuinely fifteen years, so i can't speak to the quality of recs).

some sam/jack recs of mine; some of these authors multi-ship:

nanda: her resolution series especially should not be missed and i can't stress that enough. smut and action. fics great fics across the board.

it's kind of difficult to express how popular Salr323's fics were (under a different name) back in the day. i'm told that archive servers would crash when she posted something new. low on smut, high on PINING. rec: it was admittedly 1 am but as i recall this one made me feel like i'd just seen the fanfiction mona lisa

there are quite a few multifandom wonders who cut their teeth in this fandom, including missparker (rec: a small crime)

this cassandra fraiser fic dealt me some damage: nobody dies tonight by isawet

someone who's still in touch with her please harass splash_the_cat for writing 99 sg-1 fics and then walking away without cracking 100. lots of fun little snacks in there including this one

everything anr touches is gold <3

starting to get stressed out about who i'm missing!!!!

if your friend likes D/s this one is fun by tremontaine

lol read my stuff (i never wrote smut for sg-1 though)

hey everyone, please add recs in the notes/reblogs, especially jack/daniel recs because that's out of my wheelhouse but we aim to serve

#chatter post #marmolita #uhhhhh tell your friend there really is gold on ao3 but i do understand #any pairing over a certain level of popularity seems to churn out some weirdly skewed top pages in the sort-by results #especially when the fandom heydey predates ao3 #sad again!! about all the vanished archives!!#where are jojo and elly i hope they are having good lives :(#sgwun #fic rec

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danmeiconfession · 4 months

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Luo Binghe is a scary motherfucker. Shen jiu could have treated this man kindly and he'd get be chased down obsessively he treated him canonically like scum and yet he can't get his shizun out of his head. Bro... I know many say it's because he's got grievances against his Shizun becauses of the mistreatment and abuse he experienced at the peak but Bingge goes way to far to even count as a victim because at the extent of the torture he did it's beyond a victim wanting justice but a maniac it's goes way past that. Who craves their teacher affection if they had Shen jiu as their instructor most would stop but he still wanted it. It can't be anyone affection it's why SY being in the original host body makes sense because it kind of traces back to a lot of issues and Shen jiu the center of that. If the system is there to grant happiness for Binghe I think lol then his desires are in SQQ. Like i've seen stories of Shen Yuan being in other character bodies but like ultimately it's not really SY kindness to the MC that sets him apart because we have countless wife characters that already fulfill the role like Ning Yingying it's not really the lack of love but really the love he wanted from the original host and Shen jiu got the boot.

Logically, Binghe is a scary dude. A whole yandere that desires his shizun like no other. I don't think Shen jiu was that dumb he's probably aware if the taunts he makes to him got his tongue ripped off. I don't think it's the abuse that made him go haywire but the fact he was always rejected by Shen jiu himself. Like the difference between SY and SJ was one accepted the affection and the other didn't.

Like people could say oh if only SJ could have treated this boy sweetly but bro he wouldn't let the dude go ever. Whether he treated this dude as scum below his feet or treated him lovingly in his arms his fate is tied to this dude because in either situation he's end up in Binghe hands regardless. Shen jiu experiences a lot of shit in the manor he was enslaved at and was sexually implied to be abused by Qiu Jian Luo who hated his disobedience. Who's to say he wasn't aware of the child attention on him and he wanted to quell that shit down.

Even when confronted with someone like Shizun, he shouldn't be overly concerned about finding a replacement, especially considering the negative memories associated with it, particularly with SQQ. If he truly harbored hatred and contempt, he wouldn't desire someone similar to take his place. However, it's possible that in the past, he admired Shizun and believed they could start anew. Typically, intense emotions like rage and revenge preclude the possibility of reconciliation, as one is repulsed by their adversary. Yet, it's conceivable that he didn't truly despise Shizun, and perhaps never harbored genuine hatred. Instead, he sought revenge against the person he loved, who had rejected him, aiming to maintain exclusive attention post-Abyss through various nefarious means. It's feasible for someone to be consumed by revenge while still harboring love for the individual, even if they refuse to acknowledge it. I wonder if the act of reducing Shizun to a mere figure might not only be to prevent escape but also to ensure he never leaves Bingge's side again.

#svsss #scumbag self saving system #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #luo binghe #scum villian self saving system #scum villain

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sebstan2020 · 7 months

Text

Red Ties

Chapter 15

Mary, a sweet Christian girl living in the city of Brooklyn as a nurse had a simple life. She loved her work, her friends and attending church every Sunday and helping Reverend McCarthy. Her life was nothing out of the ordinary. However, it all changed one day when she bumps into the intriguing and intimidating James Barnes, Brooklyn’s notorious mafia boss and is introduced to a world of guns, lust and dominance.

Warnings: BDSM, Dom/Sub, Mafia, Violence, Gang, SMUT, Sex, Possessive Bucky, Overprotectiveness, Bondage, Sexual Themes, Dark Themes, Guns, Drugs, Gang Violence

“Thank you,” Mary said softly as she took the glass of lemonade from James. She was sat at one of the high stools at the bar, sitting ever so straight. All those years of being forced to sit up straight in lessons at school were paying off for her posture and back. Bucky had poured himself a glass of whiskey, gulping it down, the taste barely burning his throat. He was used to the strong alcohol, having started it at the young age of 17. His father was a big drinker, not to the point where he lost control but working in this life, a whiskey calmed his nerves as did it for James.

“I like your friend, Steve,” she said and James chuckled. He was plating up their dinner. A tender piece of beef in a rich sauce with roasted vegetables and sautéed potatoes. Normally Sam did the cooking around here but tonight James wanted to cook for Mary. His grandmother taught him well as did his mother and if he had the time to cook he’d do it more often. But tonight was a special occasion.

“He’s a loud mouth at times, doesn’t know when to shut up,” he said and Mary giggled.

“But I trust him the most” he smiled and took the plates. The food smelled delicious and Mary’s mouth watered, her stomach rumbling. He placed the plates at the grand table and nodded over for Mary to come. She slipped off the table, padding over and James pulled out her chair for her.

“Thanks” she smiled as he pushed her in, his hands just grazing her shoulders sending a tingle through her body and he sat beside her at the head of the table.

“This looks amazing, do you cook often?” She said as James slipped into his seat.

“Not as much as I’d like to. I’m a busy man. Sam normally does the cooking though, he’s amazing. Was born in Louisiana so he has a thing for spices” he smirked.

“Is he another friend of yours”.

“Yes, he works for me as well,” he said as he draped the napkin over his knee.

“Does he live here with you?” She asked and he nodded. She imagined he didn't live on his own in this humongous house. You’d get pretty lonely if you did.

James was about to tuck into his dinner when he peaked over at Mary and stopped. Silently she pressed her hands together and spoke to herself softly, a few words being coherent and he realised she was saying grace. It warmed him inside, watching her be thankful for the food he cooked. He’d never seen such a thing with his own eyes. Like he said before his family was never religious and he doubted they could even step foot in a church with the sins they’ve committed. Perhaps selfishly though he enjoyed watching her say thanks just like his submissives would when he was dominating them, punishing them, fucking them until they came over and over again. Although saying grace and thanking him for an orgasm wasn’t even the slightest bit similar, he enjoyed watching it.

He smiled softly as she finished and looked over at him. To break the silence, he picked his glass up and cheered with hers, sipping and returning to his dinner.

“Do you always say grace?” He asked and she nodded.

“Pretty much, it’s different when it's just me on my own and if I’ve made the food but I try to in the company of others and if someone else has made it” She dug Into the tender beef, the meat just falling apart and melting in her mouth.

“Sometimes though I feel I should ask, otherwise it looks a bit weird” She laughed nervously.

“No… I like it” he murmured. It only showed how innocent she was, her kind and sweet nature and how thankful she was for everything. Dinner was delicious and didn’t take long to eat.

“That was amazing James,” James smirked. Standing and gathering the plates. He was a sucker for a compliment here and there and her saying his food was amazing was just what he wanted to hear.

“Thank you, my grandmother and mother taught me how to cook so I owe it all to them,” he shrugged, placing the plates in the sink. He’d wash them up later or get one of the guys to do it. Right now he had his girl to attend to and was going to give her every bit of his attention. He brought over another lemonade for her and a whiskey for him, slumping down in the chair.

“I wish I could cook like that, I’m useless when it comes to food” she admitted.

“Well maybe I can teach you one day, I can tell you all the little tricks and secrets my grandmother passed down to me,” he said.

“I’d probably end up ruining the food, knowing me I’ll set the smoke alarm off” James laughed. He couldn’t imagine her being bad at anything.

“I’m sure you’re not that bad” he twiddled the glass with his fingers, his rings clinking on the glass and the light catching them.

“I’m always so busy though so I never have time to cook. I usually end up throwing something in the oven or ordering in”.

“I imagined you to be a really good cook”. Mary slightly blushed at that thought and James bit the inside of his lip. Why did the colour of her cheeks changing make him want to grab her and fuck her on this table?

“My mom was an amazing cook and when she died, my dad and I just lived off simple dinners or ready meals so I never really learned”.

“Next time I teach you,” he said softly, as if it was an order and a tingle went through Mary’s body. James chugged down his whiskey and stood, the chair scraping from the floor and held his hand out.

“Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the house” he said and she slipped her hand in his, following him up. He didn’t let go of her hand as he pulled her through the living room, passing Steve who was intensely watching the game. He didn’t even acknowledge them walking past and when they left, the annoyed groan of the missed goalie made James roll his eyes. Not only was the living room and kitchen a beauty of the house but so was every other room.

“This is my office” he opened the door and Mary poked her head in. It was huge, with a great big desk and a large leather chair behind. There was a sofa and two comfy chairs around a large coffee table in the middle. The room was dark with warm lights. It suited his image perfectly. Dominant and intimidating.

“Do you work here all the time?” she asked. James was about to chuckle but realised Mary only thought he was an accountant and weapons supplier, a job that most people would think worked from a desk all day. But not James. Oh no, he was far from the average office worker. You might even ask why did he need an office.

“Yes, but sometimes I have to attend meetings outside,” he said. It was an easy answer. Mary wandered around the office, taking it all in. James was sure to put away anything that might look suspicious to her. He wasn’t looking forward to the time he had to tell her what he does, who he is, a cold-hearted killer who deals illegally every day. But right now he was just enjoying the moment with her.

He led Mary up the stairs, bringing her down to his bedroom, the last room of the house. Mary felt her heart beating faster as he stepped in, revealing the gigantic room.

“And this is my room,” he said and let her walk in further, leaning against the frame of the door. the bedroom was huge, with a king-sized bed with four posters and a frame. The carpet was a beautiful cream and the furniture a light beige. the contrast from the bright bedroom to the dark office was polar opposite and she wasn’t expecting the room to look like this. There were two doors on the left-hand side, one that led to a bathroom and one to a walk-in wardrobe. A flat-screen TV was mounted to the wall and there was a large chest of draws underneath, covering most of that wall. The window was big with opaque curtains. The room smelt of his rich cologne, fresh and intoxicating. The bedroom was almost the size of her whole apartment.

Her bag was placed on a comfy chair in the corner of the room and she was amazed at the whole thing.

“Wow, this is almost the size of my whole apartment” she laughed softly. It was intimidating. James bit his bottom lip, swallowing the lump in the back of his throat and shut the door behind him softly. The click of the door made her turn around and he pushed himself off the frame, slowly walking towards her. He wasn’t going to wait any longer… he couldn’t wait any longer. James reached for her face, cupping her cheek with his large hand, warm and comforting. Mary stared up at him with bright green eyes, her lips slightly parted and a small breath leaving.

James took a deep breath, pressing his lips to hers in a deep kiss, his lips moving slowly to hers. Mary craned her neck backwards as he towered over her, his other hand reaching for her waist to support her. She found herself lifting her hands to his shoulders, leaning into the kiss, her eyes fluttering close as she fell into heaven. James slowly pushed her backwards until her knees hit the bed and she fell on the mattress with surprise. He leaned over her, supporting his weight with his hand on the bed as he continued to kiss her, moaning softly. Mary’s heart began to pound in her chest, her mind racing with thoughts.

This is it… it’s going to happen.

But I’m not ready

What should I do… should I stop

Fear took over her and she slightly pulled away. She wasn’t ready for sex… not just yet. She wanted to wait until her wedding. James was so confident and she didn’t want to look like a frigid girl. But she couldn’t help the fear coming over her. Mary pulled back with a gasp and James looked at her with concern, his bright blue eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

“Um… I’m not ready” she quickly said and red immediately hit her cheeks. James stared at her, his lips slowly smirking. He never intended to have sex with her but he understood her confusion.

"I know… we’re not doing that” he whispered and Mary blinked. Before she could answer, James kissed her deeply again, feeling her relax into his touch as he reached and slipped off the shoulders of her dress. Her bare shoulders were exposed and he reached for the hem of it. Yanking it over her head, she was left in her panties and no bra. He wasn’t expecting that but was equally happy. James quickly ripped his suit off, leaving no time for Mary to overthink this. When he was left in just his underwear, he pushed her up the bed, climbing on top of her and taking her back into his mouth.

He was a god underneath all that glamour. A chest toned with no hair, strong arms and long legs Mary couldn’t help but stare at the bulge underneath his boxers. His hair dropped down his face, ticking Mary as he kissed her. His hands roamed her body, touching every inch of her and slipped down to her panties, pushing past them and cupping her mound. Mary gasped into his mouth, shocked at the sensation of his hand touching her, how warm it felt. He shushed her softly, soothing her and pressed his lips to her again. Then he dragged them down her neck, teeth grazing her skin and soft moans escaping.

Mary’s mind was completely fuzzy with sensations and tingles and she pushed her head into the pillow. James pressed a kiss between her boobs, looking up with dark eyes as she squirmed underneath him. He enjoyed watching her writhe with pleasure underneath him and he smirked, taking a chunk of skin into his teeth and biting, leaving a mark that made her yelp. If she was going to be with him, he was going to have to ease her into his lifestyle, his way with women.

James crawled back up her body, pressing kisses and left one final one on her lips as his hand began to rub her pussy. She wrapped her arms around his neck for support and comfort and she closed her eyes, moaning and groaning as he pressed his forehead to hers.

“That’s it” he whispered and Mary could feel something brewing down here. Something tingling and growing. The urge for her pussy to pulse and release the climax. Her leg rose so he could rub harder and she moaned at the top of her lungs. It was so exhilarating and new that her first orgasm was exhausting to the point she felt she was going to pass out. And then she reached it, her pussy exploding and dripping at this point onto his hand as he took control and made her cum. Her body was hot and James grunted as he felt his cock harden through his boxers. Just watching her reach her orgasm was enough for him to cum himself.

James reached down and took his hard member into his hand, thrusting as he kissed her, reaching his orgasm quickly and coming. He grunted as he released those endorphins and everything he had kept under control the moment he met her. Mary was breathing hard, her eyes glassy and her skin clammy. James smiled softly, pressing a tender kiss to her lips as he relaxed on top of her, holding her close to him.

“Let's get you cleaned up” he whispered, dragging himself away from her body and padding into the bathroom. Mary lay there, staring at the ceiling, her body crashed from the pleasure. Her first time doing anything but a kiss and it was the most exhilarating thing she had ever felt. Mary let the exhaustion take over and closed her eyes, listening to the background noises of James. She was going to have to talk to Anya about this.

Chapter 16

Hey I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments

@pattiemac1

@sebastiansluts

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@abaker32

@samjuarezzz

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#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanficiton #bucky barnes smut #dom Bucky barnes

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