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sinfulcries · 1 year

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WELCOMING GIFT 、AL HAITHAM & KAVEH

AUTHORS NOTE: wrote this purely out of spite at 11 pn last night so i couldn’t proofread it 💔 anyways i’m literally starving and going insane over these two but not as much as my og babygirl aki ofc

CONTENT WARNINGS! threesome, size difference, manhandling, squirting, face sitting, belly bulge, age gap (not mentioned but reader used to be their teacher), overstimulation, petnames, facials

It was no secret to the scholars of the Akademiya that Kaveh and Al Haitham disagreed on many things. One may think that such intelligent scholars wouldn’t have the time to quarrel over such trivial matters however, the two somehow managed to bicker and banter— testing each other’s patience with every chance they could get.

This competitiveness also applied when it came to you; And it especially worsened once the two scholars received your handwritten letter, announcing your return from Snezhnaya. You were their master after all— The bane and teacher of all the knowledge that they possess today.

Kaveh was the first to receive news of your return from Snezhnaya, his eyes almost lighting up with joy as he scanned over your sincere words about how much you missed him and his annoying roommate. Al Haitham was then informed by the blonde shortly after as soon as they were both home after their designated work.

“Master’s returning? When did you receive this letter?” Al Haitham tried to hide the excitement in his voice with his usual deadpan expression but Kaveh knew that his roommate was just as excited as he was.

Kaveh crossed his arms, snatching the letter from Haitham’s hands before giving him a smug smile. “This morning. One of his assistants had the letter personally delivered to me while I was conducting work in the desert.”

Al Haitham rolled his eyes, ignoring the widening smirk worming its way onto Kaveh’s face. “Now we both know who master favours more.”

“I would’ve received his letter first if I wasn’t occupied with rescuing Lesser Lord Kusanali. Master knew of mine and the traveller’s plans from the very beginning hence why the letter was directed to you instead.”

Kaveh merely scoffed at Al Haitham’s reply, giving the taller man a frown as he neatly placed your letter back in its envelope. “Yeah yeah whatever makes you feel better. Just be on your best behaviour tomorrow.”

Even with their countless differences, Kaveh and Al Haitham could both agree that your arrival back to Sumeru City was a crucial moment to them. The two could barely catch a minute of sleep, thinking about how they’d spend their time with you the moment you return.

Kaveh and Al Haitham shared similar thoughts when it came to you. Going on expeditions together, writing research papers together… /Maybe, just maybe you’d be able to conduct your experiments on them. Just like the old times./

They’ve been eagerly awaiting for your arrival since the day they carefully read out your neat handwriting on the sealed paper, and as soon as you’re walking through the doors of their home, they made an unspoken pact to repay you for how /good/ you made them feel during their time as your students.

Today was the day of your return; And Al Haitham immediately jumped off of his feet, opening the door with haste the moment he heard heavy knocking on their doorstep. Kaveh followed suite, opening the door impatiently to be greeted with your handsome face.

“I’ve missed my boys, how have you two been?” You grinned, snaking your arms around both of their waists before pulling them closer to your warm chest. The scholars only blushed at your actions, Kaveh leaning in to bury his head in your glorious chest while Al Haitham continued to hide his flustered expression for you.

“We’ve missed you, Master.” Kaveh breathed out softly, remembering the past experiments you’ve previously conducted on his body. “We’d like to repay you. For sharing your wisdom with us while we were students.” Al Haitham coughed, making Kaveh nod enthusiastically.

Your boys never failed to get you im the right mood and as soon as they started subtly grinding their hips against your thigh, you wasted no time bringing the two whores to their bedroom before stripping them of their clothing.

You could still see the faint scar of your initials on their ass, a permanent reminder that they belonged to no one else except you. “You two have grown. Even Haitham’s starting to catch up to my height.” You chuckled, removing your undergarments as you spoke.

Even with their height, you still managed to tower over them— and make them feel so /small/. Especially as your hard cock freed itself from its confinements, slapping against your clothed abs, you were bigger than them in more ways than one.

Al Haitham could see Kaveh panting and his cock leaking from the corner of his eye, desperate to have your cock in his mouth— Better yet inside of him! Al Haitham felt the same despite his blank expression, his twitching cock couldn’t hide how truly needy he became around you.

“Both of your thighs are trembling. I assume you’ve prepped yourselves while awaiting my return?” You rasped admiring their naked figures waiting eagerly for your next instruction.

Kaveh and Al Haitham nodded whilst you could only smirk proudly at your former students, gesturing them to follow you to their mattress. You immediately grabbed hold of Kaveh’s wrist, pulling him down so that he was laying on top of you with your cock sliding in between his ass.

You had a clear view of the blonde’s desperate expression, and you could practically feel the way his rim was twitching against your length, inviting you to spill your load inside of his tight cunt. “You’ll have to ride me, princess. Let’s see if you still remember how to.”

You were testing him— testing his skill and obedience. And your hypothesis proved to be correct once Kaveh skilfully lifted up his hips, shaky hands wrapping itself around your fat cock as he guided the first few inches past his prepared hole. /They would really do anything for you./

Al Haitham couldn’t wait any further either, observing the way you ordered his stubborn roommate with ease, his own hand inched down to prod at his own rim with his slim fingers.

This didn’t go unnoticed by you however, your attention was on Kaveh who was still struggling to get you inside of him. “Don’t make Haitham wait too long, Kaveh. I’ll be conducting my test on him instead.”

You were getting increasingly impatient; After all you didn’t want to keep your other pet waiting. And with one firm thrust, you were now balls deep inside of the blonde, his back arching impossibly as he came all over his chest. “Huh that was quick. You’ve grown more sensitive, doll.”

Kaveh whimpered in response, his mind too weak to form any coherent sentences. Al Haitham could only watch with fascination, seeing you effortlessly break Kaveh without doing anything yet!

“It’s your turn, Haitham. Come here pup, sit on master’s face yeah?” The scribe’s eyes instantly lit up at your words, his body scrambling to position himself on top of your skilled mouth.

Before the silver haired man could reposition himself to give you better access to his hole, he could feel your calloused hands on his thighs, securing him in place before you started to tongue fuck his cunt. Kaveh would laugh at the girlish moan that slipped past the other scholar’s lips if it weren’t for your cockhead pressed snugly against his prostate.

Even his tummy was bulging from the sheer size of your cock impaling him! Deciding not to waste any more time with his master around, Kaveh balanced himself on your muscular thighs, breathing shakily before bouncing up and down your cock like his life depended on it.

Al Haitham on the other hand, was trying his damn hardest not to squirt so fucking early. You’ve barely even started and yet his mind was already turning into mush! He was certain that Kaveh would never stop teasing him if he did so too.

“Archons— You still taste so fucking good, pup.” You murmured, against his skin making sure your grip on his body was tight enough so that he wouldn’t try to escape your merciless tongue.

It was Kaveh’s turn to observe the way you made Al Haitham melt so easily; The usually cocky scholar now so vulnerable and sensitive right in front of him. The two really owed you this. After all, you we’re the one who taught them a whole new horizon of pleasure, and they we’re too addicted to stop!

As your tongue only made its way deeper into Al Haitham’s hole, you could feel Kaveh clenching around you like a vice! His insides were starting to mould into the shape of your cock, and the blonde relished in every second of it, moaning your name like a whore while he moved his hips rhythmically on your length.

“About to cum, Master— feel like i’m gonna e-explode—!” Al Haitham panted, trying to squirm away only for your hand to hold him back in place. Your tongue only quickened, whilst your hand snaking towards the man’s swollen nipple, toying with the sensitive nub between your rough fingertips.

The action was enough to send him over the edge, his vision turning white as he practically convulsed, squirting all over your torso and Kaveh’s with a drawn out scream of your name.

You could tell that Kaveh was getting close too— And after hearing both men moan for you so deliciously, you could feel your high approaching quickly. Kaveh was caught off guard, grabbing his roommate’s shaky hand as he felt your hips thrusting upwards to abuse his prostate.

Kaveh was practically screaming— holding onto Al Haitham for dear life as you pounded him brutally, your tongue still teasing the entrance of the Scribe’s oversensitive cunnie.

Both men were braindead at this point, and with one violent thrust to his battered prostate he came once more, his body shaking before he slumped tiredly on top of you.

You however, were far from finished and with a slick pop, you pulled your cock out of Kaveh’s hole, instructing both of them to kneel below you so that you could glaze both of their fucked out faces with cum.

“Good little pups. You two did an excellent job today.” You smiled proudly, cupping both of their cum coated faces lovingly. “However, we’ve only just begun.”

#sinfulcries works #top male reader #dom male reader #dom reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x male reader #kaveh smut #genshin impact x reader #al haitham smut #dark content #al haitham x male reader #kaveh x male reader #genshin impact x male reader smut

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tinandabin · 1 year

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Sagau but the reader is the ACTUAL creator part 3

Part 2 part 4

ngl, I was kind of scared to post this cause there were so many people to tag 😭😭

____

It's been what? 2 days? A week? Or perhaps a month without seeing you. The Vision Hunt Decree got stricter, they now used more violent methods to seize the vision under Ei's command. Ei hasn't left Plane Of Euthymia ever since she last heard your voice, all she does is meditate and drown herself in her sorrow.

Morax isolated himself, busying himself in the Wangshen Funeral Parlour, it is rare to see him even talk about Osmanthus wine now. He's trying his best to not think of you, but his mind just can't help but wander to your lovely face.

All Barbatos does is spend his time away at the tavern, drinking away till he no longer can. Drinking as much as he can so he can forget about his miserable life without you.

Oh, how long till they get to see you? Are you really doing all this for a mere mortal? Are they of such value to you? Would you place a mortal above them, your devoted acolytes? This is too cruel for their poor souls, they rather would die a hundred times, no, a thousand times than spend another second without seeing you. They can't live like this. They need you.

_____

"Um-uh, Your Grace, I was wondering if we could go to..Liyue? I would like to sight-see, if that is okay with you," The girl, whose name you found out is Revelyn, asked.

You found out that Revelyn doesn't really have any family, if she did then you would have returned her there. However, she grew up in an orphanage and then was left to fend for herself when she was old enough. You had even initiated the idea of her returning to the mortal realm, but she says she is too scared, for everyone probably hates her, I mean, they took their Divine Creator's attention away from them.

"Hesitate not dear, Seraphina will escort you," You replied, reading some documents and quickly filling out some slots.

Revelyn's body tensed up as she responded swiftly, "I was wondering whether you could come with me!" She ended with a loud huff, both of you surprised at her outburst.

"Oh, I do apologise; however I do not seem to have any free time today," You glanced at your clock and started to skim over the documents again.

"..I see, that's fine. We can go another day," Revelyn slowly got up and took her leave from your office.

Just as you were about to get up, you saw a letter settled neatly upon your desk. Opening it, you read it.

“Hello, Your Divinity, how are you? It has been quite a long time since I last saw you. You make me worried sick, I will not lie.

As for why I am contacting you, ever since you declared the punishment of the archons, Ei hasn't come out of Plane Of Euthymia and it looks like she is slipping into insanity.

As her familiar, it is my duty to make sure she is in her best state, no? I was perhaps hoping for you to end her punishment and we could also have some tea together.

Your Dearest,

Yae Miko ♡. ”

You settled the letter on a stack of books and smiled to yourself, noticing Yae Miko's little attempt to spend time with you. Oh well, you might as well amuse yourself.

That reminds you, didn't Revelyn want to go to Liyue? Let's hope she is fine heading to Inazuma. Inazuma sure is a beautiful place on its own, dangerous nonetheless.

Perhaps you have been too cruel on your acolytes? Ah, let's hope they learnt their lesson.

____

taglist: @shizunxie @dearloonies @iruiji @yani-dere @kiraisastay @fauxizs @salvationprodigy @thetruepair @lunalily19

do y'all like revelyn? I feel like making her the enemy somewhat. the archons vs revelyn who will win.

Masterlist

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fairysluna · 11 months

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the reward.

You come back home after two weeks, and with the victory in your shoulders. Cregan, who was still recovering from his wounds, is esger to thank you for what you've done.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Targ!Reader.

TAGS/TW — smut (clit play, praise, cunninglus, humping, public sex), cursing, mentions of murder, blood. If something is missing pls let me know!

AUTHOR’S NOTE — this is based on this ask (thx anon, ily). Just so you know, reader gave birth to Elion four weeks before this happened. I didn't proof read it, so if there's any mistakes I'm sorry.

WORD COUNT — 3.2k.

FEEDBACK, SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!!

When the big wooden doors were opened, all eyes fell on the two silhouettes that walked inside the main hall in the castle of Winterfell. Cregan stood up from his chair almost immediately, his eyes widening with surprise at the sight, and feeling the relief calming down his senses after he finally proved you were not dead.

Two weeks have passed since the last time he heard about you; two weeks in which he was losing his mind for not being able to get up from the bed and go to search for you. Your letters had ceased suddenly and unexpectedly, creating worry not only on your husband but also in the castle. And yet there you were; your hair was covered in ashes and dirt, your face having traces of dried blood and sweat. You were wearing armor which covered your chest, leather pants shaping your legs, the scabbard on your hips was dripping with blood coming from the blade of your sword. By your side, the stern and serious frame of your beloved brother Aemond was standing in the same conditions as you.

But everyone’s eyes were fixed on the giant’s head hanging from your hand. You walked inside the room with pride, your chin up as everyone bowed for you. Your husband was taken aback, for there was too much information in front of him at that moment, it was such a bizarre scene.

Cregan took a sharp breath as he stared at you once you stood in front of him, only a big, long table separating your bodies. The giant’s head was dropped by your hand on top of it, and the man looked down at you with a weird glance on his face. He analyzed your whole shape, from head to toe; from your messy battle braids to your ash-covered shoes. Cregan caught himself feeling some kind of unexplainable sensation of lust in his veins; and you were the only one who was capable of recognizing it.

“My dear husband,” you started, and all the whispers shut down almost immediately. “I’ve brought you a gift. I’m not certain whether this was the one who harmed you, but take it as a symbol… no one hurts those who I love.”

He looked to the head, then at your brother, and lastly at you. He took a deep breath, as if he was about to utter some words, but Lord Karstark opened his mouth.

“Princess,” he said, shock reflected in his voice, “what- how were you able to-?”

“My husband gifted me a fine Valyrian blade a few years ago,” you explained, looking right in the eye of the tall man to whom you call your lover. “Giants are above the size of a regular man, which is what makes them easy to behead from a dragon's back. I couldn't kill them all, but I killed enough to make them yield.”

“They yielded?” Cregan finally spoke, to which you nod.

“Yes, my lord, they did,” the mere pronunciation of those two words almost sent Cregan to outer space. Your voice sounded so deep and seductive without even trying. The man was almost drooling because of you. “They returned beyond the wall as they promised to never cross it again. Those who dared to defy our terms died by the flames of Aegarax, which worked as a warning to let them know what would happen if they disobeyed.”

“We had a few losses, my lord” Aemond interrupted in the conversation, and still Cregan was unable to take his eyes off of you. “They were brave men, killed in battle by those savages. Allow me to present them with honor with a feast in celebration for our victory. It is also well deserved for those who survive.”

“Let it be done, brother,” Cregan said. "We might as well celebrate your bravery, and your efforts for bringing my wife safely back to my arms."

“Ser Aron, please put the giant's head on display for the people to see. It is a sign of peace now,” you ordered.

“Of course, princess,” he bowed swiftly before getting close enough to the head to pick it up and walking with it out of the Hall.

“My lord, if I may, I would like to go and spend some time with my nephews and niece before tonight’s celebration,” Aemond asked, using that polite and courteous tone that was so typical of him.

Cregan nodded, “of course, brother,” he said.

Aemond walked to your way and left a soft kiss on your forehead before squeezing your shoulder and leaving the hall towards the nursery room where you children were. The silence ruled over the room as everyone was expecting for either you or Cregan to speak further into the matter, but all they received was the comfortable silence you and your husband shared as your hazes would refuse to look away. The lack of each other’s presence these last weeks had clearly made a big impact in your lives, for there was an invisible magnet that was pulling you both closer and closer to each other. Your bodies craved each other's touch in a way that would even make you look desperate.

“We won the war, my lord husband,” you said, a slight smirk crossing your lips as you noticed his jaw clenched. “Mayhaps we should celebrate, don’t you think?”

Your eyes gazed upon his face, begging and pleading for something you knew only him could provide you. The nights in the camp were cold and lonely, making you long for your husband’s warmth. Your breathing trembled at the mere thought of his big hands roaming around your body in order to touch those places that he knew so well.

“Everyone,” Cregan raised his voice in order to be heard by all the people present in the room. His low tone echoed around the room. “Leave, now.”

The lords, knights and soldiers were soon walking towards the exit doors as Cregan walked around the table and reached your side. Your smaller frame looked so fragile in front of him even when your body was covered with that hard material which had some scratches in it. Cregan looked up and down to your state, and he inevitably bit his lip as his hand reached for your hip and pulled you closer to him. A small gasp left you, starting to feel his breathing against your skin. Soon you find yourself being a prisoner of his arms, for they surrounded your body and held you tight against his broad chest.

“The children have been missing you terribly,” he whispered, so close to your lips that you were able to feel his breath against them.

You gave a quick peak to your surroundings just when the door was closed and the last man left the room. Your gaze fell upon your husband’s face once again and a little smile appeared on your face. Your hands went to his broad chest as his started to go down your body until reaching your arse.

You were dirty, sweaty, a complete mess, and yet Cregan thought that you had never looked more desirable.

“Only them?” You asked, teasingly playing with the laces of his coat until it fell down surrounding his shoes.

“No,” he shook his hand, pulling you closer and making you feel his hardness through the fabric of his pants. You sighed, eyes already getting blurry with the aching lust between your legs. “I was scared… frightened.” His lips brushing against your jaw. “I thought I had lost you, I forced myself to heal faster only to go and look for you, my love.”

“No need, I’m already here…” You replied. Your eyes would not dare to leave his as your hand reached his growing erection. “I’m here, and I will never leave you again-”

You were barely able to finish the sentence before his delicious lips trapped yours in a lustful kiss that took your breath away. The missed touch had your heart jumping in your chest with excitement, love and lust. His hands grabbed your checks in order to keep your face close enough to devour your mouth with hunger and desire. He was craving for you as much as you were for him.

"Seeing you like this," he murmurs between kisses, his fingers going to the laces that were holding your pants. "I'm so fucking lucky to call you mine. My wife, my love, my princess."

"I did it all for you," you confessed in a whine, pulling his hair strong enough to make him moan. You pulled away as your fist was holding his locks with a bit of roughness that he loved to see in you. "I would make this entire world burn just for you."

His eyes sparkled with devotion as he softened his grip around your face. His gray eyes staring at yours with a glow you were already used to seeing on him whenever he laid eyes on you. The shadow of a tender smile appeared on his face before he leaned to kiss you again. It was softer, more delicate, leaving part of the lust of your bodies behind just to have a more intimate moment. His tongue entered your mouth elegantly, twirling against yours while you sighed and closed your eyes. The warmth within your chest gave you a feeling of comfort that you had not felt since you left Winterfell; gods, you missed him so much.

When he pulled away, he stared down at you. His thumb caressing your cheeks, wiping the dried blood out of your beautiful face. He could not help but smile, all of this was for him. You did it all for him. His heart would only beat faster on the realization of you unleashing the dragon inside you just for his protection.

There was something about that wild and dangerous side of you that made Cregan drool like a hungry puppy.

"I love you," he said, and you smiled.

"I love you," you replied.

But then the lust in his eyes returned, and you knew the soft moment had vanished. His hands went to your hips as he turned you around and bent you over the table. You chuckled softly at his action, feeling how he would rub himself against you as if he was trying to find some relief. You closed your eyes, leaning your head against his chest.

"My little dragon," he murmured against your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. A soft moan was heard from you. "Fuck- I missed those pretty sounds so much."

You felt how he suddenly stepped back, and it was impossible for you to retain the loud gasp that escaped from your lips once Cregan pulled your pants down, dragging your small clothes with it. The coldness of the air caused shivers in your spine, especially after you noticed him kneeling behind you and his big hands spreading your arse cheeks. His thumbs exploring and touching your folds as he could only growl at the sight, your cunt was already dripping, glistening with your arousal.

Cregan leaned, close enough to brush his nose against your labia, teasing as he smelled your sweet scent and his mouth waters. That sweet, so delicious smell had been missed by him, and he could not wait to let himself drink from you until his lips felt sore. At that point, your legs were shaking with the anticipation of his mouth devouring as if you were his last meal.

"You've been such a good little wife, my princess," he whispered, his hot breath reaching your moist folds and making you whine. "Taking revenge for your husband, and bringing victory to our home."

His thumb started to tease your needy clit, proving small touches that were far from being enough to cause the much needed sensation of relief. You bit your lip, sighing with frustration. Your hips moving backwards as you desperately tried to reach a more intense touch, but Cregan would make you wait.

"So, so good…" he muttered, dropping light kisses in the flesh of your ass, "I'm gonna give my wife the reward she deserves, how about that?"

"Oh, fuck, please, my love," you breathed heavily, closing your eyes as the despair only grew within you. "I need you so much."

"Shh… I should be the one begging," Cregan replied.

You felt the fingertips of his thumbs spreading your labia before his tongue lapped at your sensitive folds. A moan, much louder than the ones before, was heard, and your eyes immediately went close at the delicious feeling of his tongue licking all your slick. He was eating you like a hungry man, after being deprived of you for so long he was despairingly trying to make it worth the wait. He had missed your taste, your smell, the way you would clench around his tongue, and how prettily your moans would sound.

The sound of his tongue against your wetness as he drank from you was beyond obscene. A mixture of his spit and your slick would slip down your thighs, making it messier and filthier that it already is. Your nails were digging on the wood of the ancient table beneath you, and your whimpers were getting louder.

His nose was teasing your entrance, causing the pleasure to become almost unbearable. With the birth of your third child and the weeks you spent apart, you had not been exposed to this kind of pleasure for a really long time, and you almost forgot how good it felt when your dutiful husband took care of you.

Once his tongue left your clit and started to go to your clenching hole, his fingers went to your swollen pearl, indulging the pleasure and making you see stars. You were a mumbling mess, not caring about keeping it quiet because you knew how much your husband loved to hear you, and you loved to make him know how good he was making you feel.

"Fuck, I'm- I'm getting so close, love," you rapidly said, breathy words leaving your throat as you moaned. "Your tongue feels so fucking good- oh, fuck! just like that…"

Your words seemed to only fuel his desire, for his eagerness only increased. He shook his head from side to side, his tongue never leaving your folds. You were able to feel the tightness in your lower belly as your legs started to shake. His whole face buried in you in order to give you the pleasure that you needed and deserved.

With a squeal, you felt your juices oozing out of you and falling into Cregan's tongue. You were able to hear him moan, his heavy breathing against your cunt as he was eagerly trying to get all your release inside his mouth.

Your body fell on top of the table, your eyes remaining closed as you tried to regularize your unsteady breathing. Cregan stood up, caressing the exposed flesh of your thighs as he leaned over your frame to kiss your cheek.

"We have the best cooks in the North, and yet their dishes will never be as delicious as your sweet cunt, my love," you both shared a breathy laugh after his words, your cheeks inevitably getting reddish and warm. "Come here."

His arms lift you up without issue, so effortlessly as always. He shifted your position until you were facing him, sitting on the table and with your legs surrounding his hips. His nose brushed against yours, and your hands went to his pants. He immediately stopped you.

"We can't," he said, "the Maester said we need to wait at least three fortnights."

"I can please you in other ways too, you know that," you reminded him.

"No, I just wanted to thank you-"

"And I want to thank you too," you interrupted him, removing his hand and keeping untying the laces of his pants until you removed them, freeing his shaft from the tightness of the fabric. "For all that you've done for us…"

"My love-"

"Be quiet," you silenced him. Your legs pushed him closer to you until his cock was pressed against your pearl. You both moaned at the feeling. "You know what to do now… please, don't make me beg."

"You little, needy thing…" he muttered before starting to move his hips. His mouth dropped open at the feeling of your lips wrapping around his length, it felt so warm and good. "Fuck, my love, I can't wait to be inside you once again." He confessed.

You smirked, "yeah?"

"Oh, Gods, yes…" his face was buried on the crook of your neck as your hand went to his cock to press it against your core. "As soon as you heal I'll fuck another babe inside you. Would you like that?"

"Y-yes," you nodded, your eyes looking directly at him as he sped his movements. "I can't- fuck… I

I can't wait to feel you inside me again. Filling me up so- oh, fuck, so good."

Cregan moaned at your words, getting harsher with his movements. His sack hitting against your slick, as he kept rubbing himself against you, growing desperate to spill himself on you. Your lips soon met on a needy kiss that silenced all the obscene sounds that were coming out of your mouths. It was messy, but none of you care, already drunk in the pleasure.

He pulled away at the same time that a whine left his lips. He grabbed his shaft and started to swiftly stroke it as he kept rubbing the tip on your clit. You came again, moaning his name before he coated your folds with thick drops of his pearly seed. His head fell backwards, his eyes rolling with pleasure as he hissed and groaned. You held your weight with your forearms as you looked at the mess he did on you.

Cregan soon held you tight, hiding his face on your neck once again. You chuckled softly, tiredly, caressing his hair and kissing whatever part of him you could reach.

"Don't ever leave me," he begged, "I can't do this without you."

"I won't, I promise," you replied in a whisper, smiling so bright.

He reached for your lips once again, kissing you gently and lovingly. It was brief, but as soon as he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours, enjoying the closeness of your bodies.

"But now I need to go and see my babies," you said, kissing his lips one last time before pulling back.

"Let me help you to clean you up," he quickly moved around, pulling his pants up to start looking for something that could work.

He found a clean cloak and went towards you. You let him help you, seeing how careful and delicate he always was with you. You smiled at him, and once he was ready, he made you stand up and lifted your pants. Next thing he did was throwing the cloak he used with you to the fire in the fireplace.

He grabbed your hand and walked with you towards the exit door, but before you were able to cross it, he stopped you to kiss you once more.

"I love you," he said again.

You bit your lip, hiding the enormous smile on yojr face.

"I love you."

BOLD MEANS I COULDN’T TAG YOU.

GENERAL TAG LIST — @borikenlove @aemondsversion @jvpit3rs @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @valeskafics @clairacassidy @aemondx @randomdragonfires @theminesofmoria @gothtargaryen @melsunshine @urmomsgirlfriend1

CREGAN TAG LIST — @satansdarlin @aelora-a @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii @xfancyuu @megatardisbaby

#cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark x targ!reader #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x targaryen!reader #cregan x targ!wife #cregan x you #cregan x y/n #cregan x reader #hotd #house stark #house targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd smut

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fantastiqueali · 2 years

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New sister

Summary: Sirius finds out that he’ll be having a step-sister and needs to come back home. Yet he finds something more interesting about this new sister that his brother talks of.

Pairing: Regulus Black x Reader x Sirius Black

Part 1, Part 2

Warning: 18+, Minors dni!, Voyeurism, Stepcest, Daddy kink, Limits, A slight of Degradation, SoftDom! Regulus, Innocent!Reader, Pervert!Sirius, Handjob, Spitting, Overstimulation, and pet names.

Word count: 2.6k

Sirius felt ghastly sick to his stomach as he held a letter in between his fingers that was sent by his brother. Must’ve been one of the occurrences that Regulus sends him a letter saying that someone might be dying.

It has been two years ever since his father died. Sirius hated him for sure, but the least that he could do is respect him at his funeral. He thought something might've happened to his mother yet he got the chills of shock when he read the letter from his brother.

Mother wants you back. She’s getting married in a month and she wants us to meet his groom-to-be and his daughter.

Regulus,

Sirius merely laughed at the scribbled words before dropping them onto the kitchen table of the Potters and resting his hands on his hips. He laughed at how at the end of the day, even though he was thrown away from the tapestry by his own mother after he left home.

And now, she wanted him back for her white veiled occasion in a month? And a month before to unwillingly meet his mother’s new lover and soon to be stepsister.

“Go, she’s the one who wanted you.” Sirius scoffed at Remus’ incredulous statement. “I bet you she does," he sarcastically said. Rolling his eyes, placing down the cup of coffee Lily just made for them.

“It must not be that bad,” Lily chimed in. “Just go and meet them then at the end of the day you can leave.” Sirius thought about it for a moment before all of them heard Harry’s cries.

“He must be up.” She leaves the kitchen to go and grab Harry. “She’s right Prongs,” Sirius declared.

“Isn’t she always?”

“Not always.”

“Welcome back, Master Sirius.” Sirius gave Kreacher, the house-elf that had been most loyal to the family, a big grin. Kreacher took his coat from his arm. He scanned at Sirius as if trying to find something.

“You don’t have any luggage, sir?” he asks. Sirius shakes his head, “Not planning to stay long,” he states, walking into the manor with droopy eyes. He doesn’t know what to feel by inspecting the manor that has been changed up for a bit. Lights were now around, not the old darkened and shadowed surfaces of the area. More paintings to what he assumes were either bought or made by his mother. Antics of gold vases and more objects that signify decorations.

“But sir, the mistress instructed you to stay for a month.”

“To what? There’s-”

“Father, have you seen my slippers!”

A slight hindering voice caught the ear of the older son, making his head turn to the staircase that was set to his upper right. There you stand barefoot in your simple little sky dress that has sparks of gold accents on the hem of the dress.

That’s her?

It seems as though Sirius can’t move nor shift his eyes away from you. From the very beginning when your voice was heard, he couldn't take his attention away from you. It’s as if you’re the opposite that attracts him.

“Dear, it's with me. And please, don’t shout in the manor.” The atmosphere of a calming presence was gone as he saw his mother running after you with black shoes in her hand. You swivelled around to face her, with a soft grin swelling over you.

“I’m sorry ma’am, I forgot. Thank you for bringing these to me!” Sirius watches as his mother hands you the shoes with a smile that he had only seen once or twice in his whole life. “It’s all right dearie, no need to fuss about it. Call me Walburga, please.”

“Mistress,” Kreacher said, “master Sirius has arrived.” Both you and Walburga turned to look to your right to see him, a boy with gracefully long black hair. You’ve heard about him. And honestly, it was tragic the way that Regulus describes him. A blood traitor. You can’t even perpetuate if someone from your family had called you that.

“Sirius, you’re back.” It was meant to be in a happy and excited tone of greeting. But you only heard of what seems like flat pace boredom. “Mum,” said Sirius.

“Good to see you back,” searching for a hint that she meant it sincerely but it’s like hidden away from a dungeon. Sirius only nodded in response, flaking out and appearing to be wanting to leave the manor in a matter of seconds.

When he turned to look at you, you gave him a dashing smile — wanting to have a first impression like what you did to Regulus. And honestly, it fulfilled a brilliant relationship with him. Sirius returned the smile but with a sprinkle of a smirk that he can’t seem to remove.

Walburga, seeing the interaction between the two of you said, “I’d like you to meet Y/N. She is the daughter of Charles. Don’t you know him?” Sirius shook his head up and down, side-eyeing you without caring if his mother saw it.

“Well then, come along dear. I’ll help you with your hair.” She says, smiling once more before turning her head to Sirius again. “Go and clean yourself up.” With that said, Walburga pulls you gently by the arm. You waved him goodbye first, then followed the mistress of the manor back to your room.

Sirius stays still, watching as the last strand of your hair is gone. He takes a deep breath and then turns to the house-elf on his right. “I’ll go ahead.”

“Have a nice stay, Master Sirius.”

Finishing his shower, he goes ahead to wander around the manor, trying to reminisce about what it looked like back then. However, as he can remember, it still looks the same with lights flickered on. With a towel on his shoulder, he dries his hair down, whistling a tune. That is until he heard someone. Particularly his brother.

He heard him muttering through his door, he stepped closer to Regulus’ door, pressing his ear on it and listened carefully.

“Spoiled little brat aren’t you?”

He was shocked. More than shocked that he will hear those words from him. He wants to know who he was saying those vicious words. Just to his luck, the door was slightly crooked. He moved closer to it, making sure his presence is still nowhere to be found.

Then there he sees you. Bent over at the end of Regulus’ bed, dress pulled upwards with your hands tied by his hand as he strongly slams his cock to you. Hair splattered everywhere, as cries echoed in the room.

His eyes broadened at the vulgar scene being set in front of him. And really, he doesn’t know if he should be either proud or stay surprised.

Regulus pulls out for a minute and flips you over to your back. His body loomed over yours, his right arm lying flat beside your head for balance and the other roaming from your throat up to your cheeks. As you were facing the door, Sirius could see your face very well. Disorganized, crying, mouth flew open to catch heavy breaths. Overall, a fucking shit of a mess.

“Look at me,” says Regulus, wiping the tears that keep streaming down your face. It took time for you to finally calm down and glance up to meet his eyes. It held softly for what seemed like affection. Something that is expected when someone is making love with Regulus. The only difference is when Sirius caught his brother making love with another woman, he didn’t hold any mercy at all. No talks, no wiping their tears, not saying that they should look at him.

Sirius can’t see if Regulus is staring down at her. But he can feel him. If he was being honest, he would be too if was given a chance. Regulus’ head dropped at the crook of your neck. Inhaling deeply your scent that made him furious since day one. The scent that pulls him over to you to this explicit moment with you. And does he regret it? No. Not even a bit.

“You drive me crazy, y’know that?” he continues to trail burns up to your neck. Sirius adored how you reacted to it. Gasping slightly as if it wasn’t expected. Well, it wasn't foreseen from Regulus after all. The way that you bit your lip to secure the erotic sound leaves your throat.

“D’you?”

“Is it bad, Reggie?” He chuckles heartedly, smiling down at you as he glares contently at your worried expression. “It is love, it is.” Both of the boys eyed you as you said “Oh no.” It was adorable of you to worry like that. But then it hits Sirius. You’re innocent.

It’s mental of him to even have his pants get tightened just by the thought of it. No wonder Regulus is mad about you. He thought as he heard his brother chuckle once more.

“Worried?” he asks, his thumb swiping over your bottom lips, daring to push it in. Your head nodded, eyes glistened over the fact that you might be hurting him in some way. “Want t’help me?” you muttered a yes but as soon as you did Regulus can’t help but be drawn over to your lips. After tasting it a million times already, he can’t help but be addicted to it. Like he’s dependent on it for life. A day won’t and shouldn’t go by without him having a taste once again. He can have your lips for breakfast and lunch. Merlin, he can have you for dinner and he would be content.

Sirius also can’t encourage himself to stop his hand from rubbing the bulge in his pants. The scene was too much to not be adored. You were too much. Too much for them.

Regulus’ pulled the bottom of your lips with his two sets of teeth, causing a soft moan to escape. That dear moan that makes the Black brothers be seduced right now. Your hands finally climbed Regulus’ hair, locking your fingers in between curls, pulling them slightly if you want to. Regulus likes that. Very much.

He continues to grapple with your lips, swiping his tongue on its lower part — asking for permission for you to open up. Or more like demanding you to open those lips so he can taste every being of you. “Put your tongue out,” he hisses, eyes closing as his hand travels down to your clothed breast, kneading it the way his hand likes. You displayed your tongue out open for him to see. Sirius too, watching carefully as your droopy eyes anticipated what Regulus is about to do. And it surely caught the older brother off guard.

He spits directly in your mouth, some splattering onto your lips. “Swallow,” he says, like the way that you obeyed instantly without any hesitation. Your mind was clouded. You weren’t sure if you liked it or not. Who are you kidding? Although you are innocent, you know that you loved it.

Both men watching your throat swallow his spit moaned ever so slightly. Sirius had to cover his for many reasons. His brother then proceeded to push his mouth closer to you, both of his lips shoving them onto your tongue, sucking on it as if he needed it to survive. Moving his head up and down, sucking and kissing your tongue just to have every taste of you not missed.

As of now, your legs were pulling each other closer. Your pussy going into a whirlpool of need. Itching for his touch. Wishing for him to touch you like last time. To fuck you there into oblivion like last night when everyone was asleep. “Open your legs my little serpent.” His voice just seems to propel you more and more into this madness. You heeded his request, opening them just how he likes them.

Sirius can’t help but finally reach into his pants for his length, rubbing it up and down as he listens to your moans when Regulus slid back in. His tight grip on himself is as if it was not enough. He held onto the door frame so that he couldn't just barge in and have to explain why he was there. But really, there’s no other reason but you.

Eventually bottoming out. You held on Regulus’ shoulder for dear life. Scared that you might break into pieces if you don’t. Regulus continued to thrust into you slowly, pace becoming faster and faster — testing how loud you can be for him. However, he can’t do that just now. So he had to cover that sweet voice of yours with another coaxing kiss.

Moans and sobs getting louder by the minute, and the way that you kept on squeezing him tells him that you’re near. He pulled away from the kiss but not before mumbling that you should be quiet or else your father and his mother will soon see how you are such a whore for your soon to be step-brother. He pushes your dress further up, then holds your hips for balance as he rams back into you.

His head falls back, a groan joining in. Your hands gripped onto the sheets as he fucks you like a vice. Sirius ran his hand up and down faster, following the rhythm of his brother’s thrusts.

“I’m c-close daddy-”

“Go ahead. Come undone f’me. Fuck,” like the obeying sister you are, you came undone, legs shaking up and down with mouth open and an erotic moan choked your airway as your eyes rolled back. Sirius also came in his pants, biting his arm to lessen the volume of his groan. Regulus followed after, shooting his seeds right in you, throwing his head back once more.

As Sirius finally calms down, he left the two of you. You are still stuck in his mind. As he took another shower, pulling his clothes off him and throwing them somewhere in the bathroom. He can’t help but do it once, twice, or three times more with your pornographic look clouding his head. Surely, he won’t be letting his brother take all of the fun.

You’re still sensitive to everything so when you felt Regulus dragging his cock down on you again, you pushed him away slightly. “Too much,” you mewled out. Regulus finds this charming of you. Yet he’s far from being done with you.

He lowered down on your frame, soothing your still shaking legs by rubbing them. “I know love, but just one more for me. Please?” you hesitated for a bit but nodded after.

As you came down to your second orgasm, you felt incessantly tired. But again, Regulus wants more. “Please love, just more ‘kay? One more and we’re done.”

What one more turns into another, and another, and another. Coming down to your fifth orgasm for the day. “Don’ want more daddy. 'm tired.” “One more fr’daddy. Please princess, just one more. Then daddy will take care of his little princess.” You sighed, knowing that you just can’t resist him. “‘kay, jus’ one more, daddy.” He smiles, kissing down on your forehead as he slides back into you.

Finally coming undone for the last time. For real this time, with hinges of calls for your name and saying I love you. The side of Regulus that was barely shown to anyone. Just as promised, he cleans you up and massages your legs whilst you sleep peacefully. He then went under the covers with you, spooning you to the side with his hand pushing your hips down on him. He closes his eyes, listening to your small little snores, smiling happily. Hopefully, dinner comes late.

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coralinnii · 1 year

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Can we get a fluff with Vil and Riddle in the villain au?

Villainess au Side story: the villain in my heart feat: Riddle genre: fluff note: follows the villain/ess series Riddle ver. but can be read independently, no pronouns were used, roughly 1.5k word count

Vil's part will be in a separate post because I didn't want the post to get too long (typical me)

“He’s busy again?”

Cater had a hard time keeping his smile as he watched your mood damper over his answer. He doesn't want to be the bearer of bad news but what was he to do? You have been asking for Riddle but the monarch has buried himself in his work since the proposal of an alliance with a neighboring kingdom. “I’m afraid so, your highness”

You let out a sigh as your mind wandered to the last time you had the chance to be your husband. As competent as Riddle was, you worried that he may soon suffer from overwork should he keep his schedule the way it is.

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him take a break” you lamented on your Riddle’s bad working habits. “His temper is not the best when he’s gets too stressed”

“It’s not exactly the greatest to begin with, though” Cater muttered a joke under his breath but made sure no one heard, lest he wants to be “off with his head”.

To his luck, you didn’t hear (or perhaps just ignored) his quip and instead decided on a plan for Riddle’s sake.

“I will get him away from his work for a break” you looked straight into the red-haired advisor with conviction in your eyes and a mischievous smile on your lips “and you’re helping me”

Riddle was ever diligent in his work, efficiently breezing through his paperwork with appropriate time to go over his preparations for the appointment later with the noble heads. Trey stayed by the redhead’s side, poised and alert to Riddle’s needs and commands. Nothing was out of place and were in order, to Riddle’s satisfaction.

But during his less hectic tasks, he finds himself wondering how you were doing and where you might be while he was kept away from you since the influx of work on him. He denies the need for your constant company since he is not a child (of course not) but he misses the earlier days where he had more moments with you other than meal times and the nightly routine of wishing each other goodnight, something you insisted and he was later grateful for.

A series of knocks rang through the room and Cater’s voice was heard behind the door. With Riddle’s permission, the red-haired aid entered with a letter in hand. Riddle raised his brows curiously and motioned to the letter.

“Who’s letter is that?” Most of his urgent letters were delivered early today and unlike those letters, this new one was much simpler without so much as a wax seal. “It’s poorly made without even a seal of identification on it.”

“It is from your partner your highness, King Riddle”

“Hand it over”

As soon as Cater reached out his hand, Riddle snatched the letter from his grasp before slowly unraveling the letter as though he feared he would tear it. To avoid his wrath, Trey and Cater stifled their laughter with all their might.

Hello Riddy,

Do you remember days like this? Where we would exchange letters during our time apart to keep each other company. I cherish those moments but I’m happy to be with you again in the kingdom.

How unfair of you to stir Riddle’s feelings like this through mere written words. Riddle can feel his heart flutter at the thought of you and how you enjoyed writing letters together with him. He held every letter you wrote to him and was even kept away safely in the family’s treasury room, even your last letter which haunted him when you announced your initial plans to escape the kingdom.

But I’m a little upset that my dear friend and husband has been working all these days and I haven't been able to even have a glimpse of him aside from our shared meals and the dead of night. So, I prepared a challenge to the great Riddle Rosehearts as retribution. There are clues scattered around the palace and you must follow them to find me before your meeting with the ducal family.

Riddle checked his pocket watch and saw that there was roughly 30 minutes before his guests were to arrive. That seems to be enough time for some people but for Riddle who rarely sees his beloved, that’s hardly the case.

”Cater, tell me where my beloved is right now” he commanded but said man kept his mouth shut, to Riddle’s shock.

“Um…King Riddle, have you read the entirety of the letter?”

In his impatience, Riddle missed the last contents of the letter which he then read,

If you command Cater or anyone else to tell you where I am, I will refuse to speak or look at you for the entire day and night, which includes our nightly goodnight wishes.

Your first clue is ….

Riddle left his study room and proceeded to breeze through the clues you’ve left behind which should lead to you. Your first clue brought him to the imperial library, specifically to an aisle towards the corner of the large room where the two of you first hid together when Riddle played hide-and-seek together with Chen’ya and Trey. The second clue he found brought him to the stable where a letter was placed atop of the box of apples which is the preferred treat of Riddle’s favourite horse, who whined happily seeing Riddle after so long. The next clue led him to the main kitchen where the kitchen head had just brewed his preferred tea blend at the request of his partner.

Each new clue gave Riddle a new burst of energy which fueled his steps as he got closer and closer to the end of adventure. The last clue implied that his last stop was in the palace garden, at the gazebo in the heart of the maze. As he got closer, he could hear your voice and soon his feet quickened his pace and he saw you at the gazebo as he predicted.

Though he didn’t think he would come face to face with a distressed look of your face which appeared when your eyes caught his.

“Riddle? You’re already here?!” You panicked as you stumbled with arranging the tableware on the table before giving up with a sigh “What an absolute failure”

Riddle looked at the contents on the table and saw what you were attempting to hide. A plate of strawberry tarts but the edges had broken off and the tart looked to be breaking apart, barely in one piece. It was an unusual site as the patissiers of the palace were handpicked by Trey from his family’s business for their talents. Such a mess would not be their handiwork.

“I wanted to surprise you by baking your favorite tarts but it started crumbling and the filling was leaking out” you groaned at the sight of your baking disaster. “I’m sorry for how disappointing it must be”

You feared the redhead’s reaction to your failure but instead, you were surprised by the sudden embrace you found yourself in as Riddle wrapped his arms around you, with him resting his head on your shoulder. It wasn’t as though you don’t share hugs like this but it was rare for Riddle to initiate them, especially one so close and tight. Regardless, you were quick to reciprocate by encasing Riddle in your arms as well.

Riddle couldn’t help himself. You chose your clues based on your time with him. Riddle’s heart was set ablaze at the thought that you not only remembered your cherished past with him but also kept his current interests and preferences in mind. In under 30 minutes, you managed to give him more love and attention than he had in such a long time.

“I’m unbelievably happy” he whispered softly into your shoulder, but you heard him which brought a smile of your own. “Thank you, truly”

“I’m glad” you replied but even if Riddle was pleased, you weren’t satisfied with how this adventure ended so you adjusted your position to force Riddle to face you. “But I still want to give you something before your appointment. Is there anything else you might want?”

Riddle looked to be in thought as he looked into your eyes. You guessed that he was taking great consideration which on one hand made you happy he’s taking this seriously but at the same time you felt a little nervous. Then Riddle spoke.

“I would like…to ask for forgiveness”

Before you could question him, Riddle proceeded with his plan. Carefully, he placed a hand on your cheek guiding before leaning in to place a light touch on your lips with his. The young King’s cheeks were burning red but you were no better as you could feel the scorching heat building in your body, your face must be hot to the touch under Riddle’s palm.

Riddle continued his bold actions by adding pressure into the kiss, his mouth fully closed on yours as he subtly brought you closer by your waist. He was not usually such a daring man but your letters and your sadness over something as trivial as disappointing him drove him to capture your lips in an impulsive act of affection.

You bring silliness to his orderly world and he’s ecstatic that you do.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland scenarios #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #villainess au

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author-morgan · 2 years

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Title: Dragonknight Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: Even darkness seeks the light, or in which Daemon considers you his northern star —his guiding light. Warnings: Typically Westerosi shenanigans.

HE LOWERS THE blunted training sword and frowns as you bolt down the steps of the tower and around Ser Ryam the Dragon —not wishing to be the fair maiden in need of saving again. Instead, you take up another sword, too big and heavy, and stand stalwart in your choice. Prince Daemon Targaryen nigh pouts. He’s meant to be brave and valiant and save his lady from danger. “How am I to be your dragonknight if you won’t let me save you?” He laments.

“Two swords are better than one against this fearsome foe,” you tell him, but the game is already over then.

Ser Ryam Redwyne laughs and rises from his haunches, feeling the ache in his aging joints —Clement Crabb told him it was his turn to entertain the prince and his coconspirator. At least then it would keep the pair out of too much trouble. “She is not wrong, my prince,” he remarks. Even a knight of the Kingsguard has brothers-in-arms, seeking and accepting help does not make one less of a man or less of a prince.

“You make a fine dragon, ser,” you note, remembering your courtesies.

Ser Ryam Redwyne smiles at your compliment. “Thank you, my lady,” the Kingsguard knight says, giving a half-bow to you and Prince Daemon before taking his leave to rejoin the king.

Florence Fossoway enters the courtyard, passing Ser Ryam, with her hands clasped in front of her golden-rose belt. “Prince Daemon,” she greets, lowering her head in veneration before turning her attention to you —a rowdy girl who’d rather frolic about the Red Keep and the streets of King’s Landing with Daemon Targaryen instead of practicing her stitches and letters. Your mother’s lips purse into the slightest of frowns, recalling the conversation the prior eve with her lord husband and your father, Martyn Tyrell. Soon you’ll be too old to partake in such churlish activities. The prince may be able to do as he pleases, but you will not. “It’s time for your lessons,” she reminds you. Sewing, reading, writing, and learning the harp, among other things —all of which are considered comely talents in a good wife.

THE SUN’S WARMTH shines through the canopy of summer foliage to the forest floor of the Kingswood, painting a halo of light around where you and Daemon lay, looking skyward at the passing clouds. It’s a rare thing of late, being able to spend time with him. Too often, duties and lessons keep you and Daemon separated now that you’ve grown older —not quite children any longer, but not yet adults in the eyes of the lords and ladies of the court.

Still, you’ve heard the whispers about what the small council speaks of, and so has Daemon. He sees how you worry in silence, though —always twisting your hair or picking at the skin of your palms, always trying to be a good and dutiful daughter for House Tyrell. But now, more than ever, the whispers are no longer uncertain truths or mere rumors, and in the past weeks, a heavy weight has settled on your chest and shoulders.

You’ve grown quieter as time passes, and the midmorning fades into the afternoon. Daemon looks at you and frowns when he sees unshed tears budding in your eyes. He reaches for your hand, twining his fingers with yours, and squeezes. He’s always been your dearest friend, your dragonknight. "We’ll always be together.” You want to believe him —he sounds so certain of it. “I won’t let anyone take you.” That makes you smile, but Daemon still sees your doubt. “I’m a prince, remember?” And soon to be a dragonrider, he thinks. No one would be able to stop him then. He would be able to whisk you away to the far reaches of the land —places you’ve only ever imagined in stories.

“Promise?” It’s a trembling whisper.

“On the Old Gods of Valyria,” he swears, then looks back to the sky and the creeping storm clouds. “One day we can go there,” he says, voicing his thoughts aloud, “on dragon back.” He’s told you about Caraxes —the Blood Wyrm— and Aemon’s former mount. A wild, unpredictable beast with a will strong as any Targaryen’s, but Daemon’s always had an eye for Caraxes. The dragonkeepers oft let the prince into the great dome to see him and the others, though he’s yet to take the Blood Wyrm for his own mount. But soon he will and you’ll both be able to fly high and far and free.

THE HOUR IS late when he knocks on your chamber door, and it rouses you from an ill-fated attempt to sleep. “Daemon?” His silver-white hair is mused from flying, his tunic and pants ruffled too —as though he’s run from Rhaenys's Hill. You pull him from the hall and into your chambers by his sleeve. You’re both too old now for him to come to you in the night —people at court will talk if anyone sees, and the walls of the Red Keep have both eyes and ears.

“I leave in the morn to help Lord Dondarrion stamp out these rumors of an unruly brotherhood in the Dornish Marches,” Daemon tells you. You’ve heard your father speak of those rumors in the prior weeks, even if he doubted the claims —King Jaehaerys’s reign is marked by peace and prosperity. Lord Baelon says he’ll be granted knighthood and the Valyrian steel sword, Dark Sister, for quelling the disturbance. “Though, before I leave–” he opens his fist to reveal a glittering white stone strung on a finely crafted rope of silver. “It was meant for your nameday celebration,” Daemon explains, the feast is to be held in a week’s time, and he knows he will not return from the Stormlands so quickly.

He holds up his gift so you can see the finer details —how the dragon’s claw curls around the stone, stamped with a hundred tiny scales. It lifts his heart to see you smile and even more so when you turn away from him, gathering your hair to the side so he may drape the necklace over your head and fasten the clasp.

The firelight catches the gem, and it twinkles around your neck as a star pulled from the heavens. It’s what you are to him, what you’ve always been —a star. A guiding light to pull him from the darkness. Daemon steps toward you, nigh closing what little distance remains, and he reaches for you, the backs of his fingertips brushing along your neck and jaw. “Iksā ñuha qēlos,” he breathes, tender as any caress. The weight of the world lifts from your chest, and Daemon can still see the gleam of childhood memories in your eyes.

“Se iksā ñuha zaldrīzes azantys,” you tell him, slowly, enunciating each word, still uncertain you are speaking the old Valyrian tongue correctly. Daemon smiles for you, his exhale a breathy laugh before he rests his forehead against yours —you’d do almost anything to live in this moment for eternity. But time does not stop for a fool’s desire. His lips, thin and wind burnt, ghost over your forehead, then linger there before he steps back to take his leave.

You stop him before he can go, hand loosely curled around his forearm. Daemon turns back and finds your lips on his —hesitant, but soft and sweet. But it’s over too quickly. “For luck, my prince,” you explain, not wishing to meet his gaze as you feel warmth rush to your cheeks in the aftermath of such a reckless action. The prince’s fingers curl beneath your chin and he surges forward at the same time. His kiss tugs at the corners of your heart, leaving you to shatter when his hands, now splayed across your back, draw you closer. And when your arms twine around his shoulders, Daemon’s certain he won’t ever be able to let you go.

LEANOR FLIES TO the Driftmark astride Seasmoke and beckons you to accompany him back to the Stepstones —for Prince Daemon has won the war, but he has not done so unscathed and there is only one person he wishes to see. They call him a madman and they hail him as a hero as you move through the victorious war camp. There are tales of how he slew twenty men, how it was only the three arrows that slowed him, but even still he cleaved the Crabfeeder in two. A maester exits the tent, his pale robes stained with blood. “How is he?” You ask.

But the voice that answers in the maester’s place is familiar, albeit rougher than usual and still laced with pain —the last dose of milk of the poppy has yet to take its numbing hold. “Come ask him yourself,” Daemon groans, recognizing your voice and shadow.

One of Corlys’s men draws back the flaps of the patched tent for you to enter. He lies on the cot, torso bound in linen strips speckled with blood, and his hair still a knotted mess of dried filth from the battle. Daemon means to sit up, but you stop him with a firm hand pressed to his shoulder and kneel at his bedside instead. “Issa sȳz naejot ūndegon ao.” It’s been many long months since you’ve last seen him —and even then, it is only fleeting moments on Dragonstone or at Driftmark before he returns to war and uncertainty.

Daemon reaches for you, his rough fingertips trailing across your cheek and jaw, then down to your neck and the silver chain resting there. You’ve scarcely parted from his gift since receiving it —letting it serve as a reminder for all those at court that your heart already belonged to another. The stone pendant still shines like a star even after the years, just as you do, always guiding him home. You take his hand and kiss his bruised and cut knuckles. “Ñuha qēlos,” Daemon whispers, and it sets your heart aflutter all over again.

It’s instinctive to lean into him when he pushes himself from the cot. Then he kisses you until the cold sea breeze falls away and your body sings with warmth —kisses you until he feels something melt inside him that nigh hurts in some strange, exquisite way. It’s all his longing and dreams and sweet anguish, and it all transforms into something enchanting, and when Daemon parts, everything makes sense once more —feels right once more. He lays back, grimacing. The Crabfeeder’s arrows struck deep. Daemon takes a long, slow breath, his eyes burning into you. “Avy jorrāelan,” he says, and he’s a fool for not saying it sooner. You kiss the corner of his lips in response, for you’ve already spake your love for your dragonknight.

“I mean to take the Stepstones as mine own,” he tells you. They will call him King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea, and he will make his own mark on Westeros and the world beyond. But the stone seat and his bed will be cold without someone to share it with —he needs a queen to share the title and burden with. Daemon holds onto your hand and holds it close to his heart. “We can be together.” Together, you smile at the thought and rest your head on his chest. Together is all you’ve ever wanted.

High Valyrian translations: Iksā ñuha qēlos. - You are my star. Se iksā ñuha zaldrīzes azantys. - And you are my dragon knight. Issa sȳz naejot ūndegon ao. - It is good to see you. Ñuha qēlos. - My star. Avy jorrāelan. - I love you.

[ taglist: @mrsragnarlodbrok @erzsebetrosztoczy @certifiedlittleshit @safe-within-the-stars @holysmokesblog @sandronebabyy @qhbr2013 @dollvi3e @katie007123 @batmomphd @misskatiewrites @lillianastras @xinyourdreamsx @thewintersnoozer @beelanie @nenelysian @ksziggy @chemicalalice @oddaodd @prada-cat @madsmikkelsenss ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon taglist, just let me know with this Google Form!

#Daemon Targaryen #Daemon Targaryen x Reader #Daemon x Reader #Daemon Targaryen Fanfic #House of the Dragon #Matt Smith #my writing #fic setting: pre HotD and up to the start of the War for the Stepstones #if you notice something wrong with my high valyrian translations plz let me know

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dazaiandhislovelybandages · 5 months

Note

REBORN WAS SO GOOD, I AM OBSESSED!! can you please do more parts of it?? I really love the Levi x Erwin's sister!reader pairing

Say That You Will {Levi}

A/n: I don't know if I like my layout with manga pictures or without. Anyways, I have so many scenarios with Levi x Erwin's sister! reader but the main problem is that I usually don't like uploading pt 2 of my writings for practical reasons. Nevertheless, this can be read both as a continuation of my Reborn scenario and as a stand alone. Enjoy!

Pairing: Levi x Erwin's sister!reader

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Levi is in his 40s), mentions of disability, ptsd

When you walked in his life ever so swiftly and suddenly, Levi wouldn't have thought that he would actually care enough about you. He had finally settled down, far from the country's political affairs and the army, and his tea shop was going well.

Yet there he was, with you being the head of the Intelligence Unit of Historia's gonverment.

He never asked a single thing about your job, just like he never asked the members of his old squad. He didn't want to know. But he would often find himself, weaking up earlier in the morning to prepare lunch for you since he knew that you were just like your late older brother; once you focused on something, you forgot about everything else.

The first few days, Levi would send Gabi or Falco to the palace to secretly leave the lunch box he had prepared for you in your office; your friendship was still in the early stages after all. But two months later, he would bring the lunch box himself, even have lunch with you if his shop wasn't busy.

Today had been one of those days. With two lunch boxes secured on his lap and an expression colder than usual, he rolled his wheelchair down the corridors of the palace. He was used to the prolonged looks directed towards him. There weren't many people from the old army so most of the ones who looked at him had only heard of him from stories. Usually they would freeze and quickly and nervously salute him. And Levi would wave his almost fingerless hand dismissively.

He lifted his hand, ready to push the door of your office open when he heard people shouting.

"Give me one good reason as to why neither the Queen nor I have heard about this!" This one was your voice, for sure.

"I... I didn't know... it was important." Whoever that man was, he was definitely nervous.

There was a long pause until you spoke again. "How many people?"

"Around a thousand..."

"A thousand?" You raised your voice again. "Leave! I will handle this myself."

Mere seconds later the door opened almost hitting Levi and the man, a man around his age, walked out nervously, not bothering to close the door behind him. Levi caught the door just in time, one hand holding the lunch boxes in their place.

"Oi brat." He closed the door behind him. "Lunch is here." He watched as you lifted your head from the paperwork, the dark circles under your eyes darker than the last time he had seen you yesterday.

"Thank you." You quickly stood up from your seat and walked over to prepare tea. "No sugar right?" Levi nodded, setting your paperwork aside to place the lunch boxes on your desk, when a letter on top caught his eye.

He turned his head to look at you, or more like admire you. He could swear that his eye was glowing whenever he looked at you and he had tried many times to convince himself that it was just because you were Erwin's sister and he wasn't attracted to you. But after a lot of thought (a minute's worth of thought) he came to terms with the fact that he was in love with you.

Now his main problem was whether he was going to tell you or not.

"Everything okay?" You snapped him out of his thinking state by placing the two cups of tea in front of him, slightly pushing the one with no sugar in towards his direction.

"Who was the unlucky man?" He didn't know why he asked, he didn't want to know.

"The Underground..."

"Oh." That was all he said but you handed him that same letter he had noticed. He gulped down and took it the moment you started eating.

Erwin's letters were always so carefully written, so clean and always to the point. Just like this one. He didn't need to ask how you had a letter of Erwin because he was aware that the late Commander always wrote letters, leaving orders on what to do just in case he got killed in the next expedition.

"I didn't know Erwin cared about the Underground." He gave you back the letter.

"That's because you weren't supposed to know. But now you do." Pause. "He wanted to stop all the illegal activities down there but it wasn't his place to do so."

"And the Intelligence Unit is in on it now?"

"Not the entire unit. Just me." You smiled slightly and Levi felt his heart skip a beat.

"I can help you." He mumbled, memories of his days in the Underground flowing his mind.

"You have helped me enough. Bringing me lunch everyday, making me tea... so let me help you this time."

Levi didn't know how to tell you that the Underground and his time there didn't hurt him as much as they once had. He couldn't bring himself to tell you that his mind was at ease after learning about his family. Not with that sweet sweet smile on your face.

"You have helped me more than just enough." He tried to soften the expression on his face. "But don't get too over your head brat." He rolled his eye and took a sip from his tea.

"Say that you will accompany me to this new restaurant that opened yesterday and I won't."

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lyrablack1883 · 4 months

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Ignorance is Bliss

——

When the first letter arrived, Sirius didn’t even bother to read it, he recognized his mother’s cursive writing and cast incendio calmly. James watched as it happened. “Are you sure you don’t need to read it?” He asked. “No, must be the same old pure blood shit” Sirius answered.

However, the letter keep coming. It arrived daily for a whole month. And for every letter, Sirius burned it. And then one morning, it just stopped completely out of blue and he found his mother waiting outside his flat not long after. He didn’t open the door for her, instead it was James, who calmly said “Sirius’s not here”.

Her mother expression didn’t change. “I see, please tell him, I need to talk to him. It’s important. Please.. give this letter to him, make sure he read it” her mother then left as quietly as she came. He never heard his mother beg a favor to someone before. When she’s gone out of sight. James asked him “do you want to read it?”. “No” he answered confidently.

The letters finally stopped and Sirius continued his life. He was happy. Being free gives him happiness.

But then the war happened, and he lost.

He trusted the wrong the person and now he carried James’s blood on his hands. And thus the madness claimed him as it did to his predecessor.

12 years he spent grieving his friends’s death and when he’s free once again. He vowed to make things right. He then met Harry and reunited with an old friend. And we all know how the story went.

He then went back home.

His first thought was, would his mother welcomed him?

When he set foot to his ancestral home. It was eerie silence that welcomed him instead. And then kreacher appeared and said “kreacher, welcome the heir of the noble and most ancient house of black home”

and Sirius laughed, he laughed so loud, the echo spread to the whole house. And the house cried for him.

When his laughter died, he eyed the portrait that’s now staring at him. that’s when he realized his mother had passed away. “Mo..” he hesitated. “hello walburga” he then said.

The portrait now looked enraged “who do you think you are to call me by my name, you blood traitor!”. Sirius smiled at the answer and noting to himself that his mother never changed after all.

Being trapped once again in that house reminded him so much of his childhood, his mother’s voice and the poison that was laced to it.

He asked kreacher when his mother died?. Kreacher merely guided him to the drawing room. There, he saw his name now scorched in black. He traced his finger to follow the branch and find his mother easily. “1985” he muttered to himself. He waited for that wave of grief to hit him but it didn’t happened.

He then realized there’s an end to regulus’s date. “1979” why? He thought to himself

The elf beside him cried loudly “poor mistress, poor master regulus, kreacher had failed them, kreacher had failed them”. He banged his head over and over again to the floor.

Sirius tried to remember the last time he saw regulus. He tried to distinguish his face, the prideful tone of his speech, the silver of his eyes they both share from his memory. He remembered It was winter after he graduated, the last time he saw him alive.

He saw them from afar. Mother and his perfect son, hand in hand smiling in diagon alley picking presents for Christmas. The linked hands, the doting in her mother voice when she speaks to her son. The smile he longed to be directed to him.And Sirius remembered the taste of blood that filled his mouth, the painful bite he took to stop himself from crying. The jealousy, bitterness and heartbreak that followed it. How he flee from that scene, refuse to let it burn into his memories.

He remembered the way he cried into James’s arm muttering to himself “why couldn’t she love me?” He said between tears. And James would gently stroke his back and calmed him. “I love you” James would whispered to his ear again and again.

But then James died because of him and he lost his home. Now he’s back again, trapped in this wretched house.

“Foolish brother” he couldn’t help himself from saying that, and kreacher jumped on him. “don’t insult master regulus! Take it back! Take it back! Master regulus is not foolish! He’s kind to kreacher! Master regulus is kreacher’s master!” He screamed. “Master regulus is not a blood a traitor like you!” and Sirius saw red. He pushed away the damned elf not caring it hurt the elf. And went to his room.

He couldn’t cry, there was no tears left he can spare. All of them had been absorbed by the cold stones of Azkaban.

After that incident, Kreacher didn’t stop. Unlike the letters he could burn easily, he had to endured himself hearing Kreacher comparing him with his mother and regulus. “Mistress wouldn’t- master regulus wouldn’t-“ and Sirius would screamed “I’m not them!”

When exhaustion claimed him. he ordered kreacher to never speak of their name ever again. And the whole house went into silence.

For months he tried to fix himself. He didn’t know how.

So he distract himself with the Order, with Harry. Focusing on how he could make things better for him. things he didn’t managed to get from his mother, the hole it created, he filled it by giving it to Harry. He had time. He just had to be patient and then he would be free. He will have a home again.

and he made a plan

When the war is over, he would take Harry to see the world.

When the war is over , he would show him how to ride his motorcycle, like he showed James.

When the war is over, he would tell him the many ‘conquests’ he shared with James.

When the war is over, he would tell him, how loved he is everyday

But when the war finally ended, he didn’t even get to see it.

Sirius died knowing he did the right thing, he died with James’s face smiling at him. He died a painless death, and he smiled through it, knowing he protected the most precious thing he ever had in his life.

He died, however without knowing some things.

He died, without knowing that the letters he burned in 1979, was an invitation to his brother’s funeral. of how regulus had died and how his body was never found. Of how walburga delayed the funeral for a whole month awaiting Sirius’s response beside empty casket.

He died, without noticing, the day his mother visited. It was right after the funeral. She was wearing black and her face stained with tears. The last letter she delivered in person was Regulus’s will, where he explained and left everything to him, of his request to protect kreacher and their family.

He died, without knowing that his mother never disinherited him. They never named regulus their heir, and that was one of the reason regulus took the dark mark despite their family wariness. To prove to their parents he was more than worthy at 16 to took his brother’s place as heir, the age Sirius ran away.

He died, without noticing that his bedroom stayed the same, with no single thing misplaced even after 17 years he left and without finding his mother’s countless letter addressed to him but never sent. Where it could easily be found under her pillow case but now covered in dust and of the portrait that cried his name in silence.

He died, without knowing that if he had asked “how” instead of “when”, kreacher would had no choice but to explained to him, that his mother died of heartbreak and that his brother died defecting the dark lord. And Of how regulus died a noble death the same way as Sirius did.

He died, without knowing kreacher is the main reason, regulus defected. that he failed regulus’s last request by hurting kreacher. Ironically, kreacher then became the reason Sirius himself died.

He died in ignorance and bliss.

#sirius black #james potter #regulus black #walburga black #microfiction #implied prongsfoot which ofc unrequited #attempt at writing

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whump-and-other-misfortunes · 4 months

Text

The Unexpected Gift

cw reluctant whumper, pet whump, captivity, carewhumper, caretaker new master, dehumanization/use of “it” as a pronoun

“My lady?”

She huffed, paintbrush hovering over the canvas in front of her. “Why on earth are you interrupting me, Julian?” she demanded without looking up. “You know I like to concentrate when I'm painting.”

“Yes, miss, I know,” Julian replied from his place in the doorway. “However, I must inform you that Lord Donovan sent you a gift. It has just arrived, and he requested it be brought to you at once.”

“Oh, how lovely,” Charlotte said, voice dripping with sarcasm. She set aside her paintbrush and turned to face Julian. “And I'm sure he expects something in return. Perhaps my hand in marriage, or something equally ridiculous?”

Julian’s lips quirked up in an understanding smile. “According to him, the gift is merely a show of friendship. Although, I am sure neither he nor your parents would be opposed to finally marrying the two of you off.”

Charlotte laughed, abandoning her easel for the time being and taking a seat on the sofa. She appreciated Julian’s good humor and their shared distaste for the supposedly inevitable union between her and Donovan. “Well, alright then—bring it to me. Heaven knows I need another pearl necklace or tea set or whatever he’s sent over this time.”

An uncertain look flashed across Julian’s face. “Right, yes. Well, I must warn you, this present is a bit different from the ones Lord Donovan has given you before.”

Charlotte adjusted the fabric of her skirt, smoothing out a sea of blue satin. Already bored of the whole ordeal, she said, “I don’t have all day, Julian. Just bring it to me.”

“Right away, my lady,” he replied with a nod, before swiftly exiting the room.

Late afternoon light formed golden panels on the floor, and Charlotte’s gaze followed it out the window. Her mind wandered as she studied the gardens outside, which she had been in the middle of painting before the interruption. She hardly noticed Julian and one of her other servants return to the drawing room until he coughed, announcing his presence.

“Lady Charlotte,” Julian said as he crossed the room to stand in front of her. “Your gift from Lord Donovan, sent with his deepest affections and admiration.”

Charlotte shook herself out of her thoughts and turned to face him. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt the color drain from her face when she took in the sight in front of her. Standing just behind Julian was another of her servants, who was holding onto a delicate silver chain. The chain was connected to a pair of cuffs which were locked around the wrists of a young man whose gaze was cast on the floor.

“Is this some sort of practical joke?” Charlotte choked out, looking at Julian for answers.

He shook his head. “I am afraid not, miss. Lord Donovan said that a lady of your standing deserves such a gift. You may read his letter at your convenience.”

Charlotte’s eyes returned to the “gift.” The man was fairly young—about her age, she figured—of average height, and worryingly thin. His clothes hung loosely from his frame and they were worn; the neckline of his shirt fell to one side, revealing a prominent collarbone. He had a small, upturned nose and his face was framed by messy, dark locks. Charlotte’s first thought was that he needed a haircut.

“I—I really don’t know what to say.” Charlotte glanced at Julian again, floundering. “Why in God’s name would Donovan send me such a thing?”

“It seems that he acquired it in his recent travels,” Julian answered. “However, he said that if it displeases you, you may return it at once and he will figure out something to do with it.”

The man’s shoulders tensed at that, but he made no other move. His eyes remained obediently fixed to the floor.

Charlotte’s chest tightened and she replied hurriedly, “No, no—don't send him back. Heaven knows where he’ll end up.” Wherever it was, she could only expect it would be much worse. She had heard stories of the way people treated their pets, and it was horrifying enough to keep her up some nights.

“Well,” Julian began, “if you wish to keep it, I can arrange for accommodations to be made. For the time being, would you prefer to have it sleep in the cellar, or perhaps the shed in the garden?”

“Dear god,” Charlotte breathed in shock. “Nothing of the sort. He can sleep in my chambers.”

The man looked up at that, a pair of piercing blue eyes locking onto hers. They were filled with equal parts shock, fear, and gratitude. It broke Charlotte’s heart. Then, just as quickly, he lowered his gaze back to the floor.

“My lady,” Julian interrupted hesitantly, “with all due respect, that would not be proper.”

“What is improper,” Charlotte spat, beginning to lose her temper, “is that a man sent me a human pet as gift with no warning. Now here I am, completely unprepared and unequipped to accommodate him. He may sleep on the floor in my room, and that is final. I will not be locking my gift in the cellar. Are we clear?”

Julian sighed, then nodded once. “Yes, my lady.”

She turned her focus back to the man—her gift—and asked, “When was the last time you ate?”

Those blue eyes found hers once more, fearfully searching her face as though Charlotte’s question was some sort of trap. “I eat when I am permitted, Mistress.” His voice was soft and hoarse.

“Julian, have him given a proper meal immediately,” Charlotte instructed with a huff. “I would also like him bathed and given a fresh set of clothes. After that, you may bring him to my room.”

“Certainly,” Julian said.

Once she was left alone, Charlotte returned to her easel. She stared at it for several minutes, trying will her mind back into the space it entered when she was painting—contented and focused. But her stomach was still turning from what had just happened. Her hands trembled.

Charlotte grabbed the canvas and threw it across the room, knocking over a lamp with a loud crash.

#i might continue this who knows #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #reluctant whumper #pet whump #captive whumpee #carewhumper #caretaker new master #captivity #dehumanisation #original character #writing #requests open #snippet

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chloedrewitt · 4 months

Text

False God - Patron!Raphael x Warlock!Reader

summary: Raphael has been your patron for quite a while, yet you have always tried to avoid you as much as you could. He has somehow always intimidated you, while you tried to block out your growing attraction to him. It certainly doesn't help that you seem to be his favorite client. When he catches you inside the House of Hope archive, tired from having studied a tome all day, he decides to finally give in to the tension between you and help you release some of it, too.

pairing: Raphael x reader

word count: 3.8k

warnings: smut with devil form, penetration, Raphael has a lil crush on you

a/n: Part of my Swift series, where I write one shots inspired by Taylor's songs. This one is based on the song of the same name <3 and btw, I think we all are kind of ignoring the canon when it comes to Raphael fics.... right? I'm thinking of making this into an actual fanfiction (the patron x warlock thing). Lmk if this is something you'd be interested in. Please also remember I'm asexual so pls excuse any mistakes with the smut!!

Masterlist - Discord Server - Request Info - Taylor Swift Series

Hell is when I fight with you But we can patch it up good Make confessions and we're begging for forgiveness Got the wine for you

The smell of sulfur invaded your nostrils as you entered through the large, heavy door, held open for you by two damned souls, their expressions void of emotion. You had long grown accustomed to them, but some still managed to send shivers down your spine when you looked at them: their empty eyes, as if made of cold glass, their sunken mouths, and their bruised limbs showcasing the labor they were damned to perform for all eternity.

You did not often imagine yourself in their stead, but you could not deny that the voices that had warned you against making a deal with a cambion ghosted through your mind at times. Mostly at night, when everything was quiet, and you had nothing to drown out your thoughts.

Sometimes, you even had nightmares, though you would never admit to it. They were frightening in ways a mere broken contract could not cause; a mirror of your soul, and deepest desires. You knew better than to talk about it, even though you sometimes felt like he could smell them nonetheless.

Your steps echoed through the foyer, your gaze fixed on the path before you as you tried to tune out what was happening around you. Erratic whispers and aimless gazes followed you as you made your way to the feast hall, the smell of freshly cooked food replacing the stench of sulfur in your nose. The table was eternally set, and the food would never spoil.

Without giving it much thought, you walked past it until you reached the archive, a place where you spent most of your time whenever you visited the House of Hope, as rare as those occasions might have been. He had offered you the use of some artifacts and books, but you had always felt a sense of dread when you entered his House. And then there was of course the boudoir, which you avoided like the plague. You knew what was behind that door, unfortunately. It was hard to visit the House of Hope at least two times and not know about Haarlep. It was a thorn in your side for reasons that flustered you when you did as much as think of them.

Focusing on the book you came for, you entered the archive, offering the fiendish librarian a faint nod as you walked around him to reach one of the bookshelves. Not wanting to spend more time here than necessary, you quickly browsed through the leather-bound spines, reading the letters on them so fast that you sometimes had to go back and reread them.

“A rare sight, I must admit.”

You had not spent fifteen minutes looking when you heard Raphael’s voice behind you, turning your head to look at him. He stood before you in his human form, arms crossed, and eyes studying you quietly. Clasping your hands behind your back, you replied, “Hello, Raphael. I didn’t know you were home.”

“I do not exactly share my schedule with you, (y/n),” he replied matter-of-factly, walking over to an armchair with calculated steps before letting himself sink into it.

“Yes, I did not mean to imply otherwise,” you said, cheeks flushing a bit.

Raphael stroked his chin with two fingers, eyes settled on you as you turned back to the bookshelf and your quest to find a certain tome. An awkward pause followed, and as much as you tried to keep your attention on the books, feeling his presence behind you was overwhelming.

“I am glad to see you are finally taking up on my offer to make use of my library. Your growing powers are beneficial to me too, after all.”

You heard him shift in his seat; he had crossed his legs, but you did not turn to face him since you finally found what you were looking for. The tome was very high up, but you could clearly read the golden letters on its spine: Grimoire of Arcane Aegis.

Embarrassed, you stretched your arm to reach for the book, visibly struggling. Why did these books have to be so heavy and so high up?

Steps sounded behind you, and you froze as you suddenly felt him standing right next to you, arms crossed. You swallowed, turning your head to look up at him. He smelled like an even more intense mixture of sulfur and leather and the moment you met his eyes, you were reminded why you usually avoided eye contact with him. It was very hard to look away.

Keeping his eyes locked with yours, he reached out for the tome and let it slip into his hand effortlessly before holding it out for you to take.

Your gaze dropped to the book momentarily before resettling on his eyes. Muttering a ‘thank you,’ you took it, quickly raising your other hand to help support its weight. You had expected it to be heavy, but certainly not that heavy.

“You're quite welcome,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Enchantment is a useful skill. Though it is one I did not expect you to want to learn.”

Pressing the book to your chest, you shrugged your shoulders, letting your eyes wander around the archive aimlessly. “I figured taking control over an enemy’s body would be beneficial in one way or another.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, the smile still playing on his lips. “That does not only apply to enemies.”

You were just about to open the tome when you froze, the color in your cheeks deepening as you swallowed. Clearing your throat, you turned on your heel and walked over toward a desk far to your right, where you laid the open book down.

Briefly, you looked at Raphael over your shoulder while your hand rested on the open page. “Well, thank you for allowing me to make use of your archive.”

“I am quite surprised you have never made use of it before,” he remarked, pacing behind you as he watched you read the letters written in elegant handwriting on the worn-out pages. There were stains here and there and sigils you did not understand yet. But you would learn.

Raphael tilted his head to the side, coming to a halt right behind you. He gazed over your shoulder down at the paper, his breath hot in the nape of your neck.

“Are you avoiding me, (y/n)? Because I would expect a little more gratitude for lending you my powers and knowledge.”

You gulped, pressing your lips together as you placed your hands on the desk, using it to support your weight a little. Your knees suddenly felt very weak.

“I remember when I met you first,” he said, his voice lower than before. “You were an interesting case. Powerless in a world filled with magic and creatures stronger than you could ever fathom. Yet your determination to save your beloved persisted. A shame he took it for granted.”

Tears stung your eyes as you stared at the pages before you, not even reading them. Partially because of how your mind wandered, and partially because of your blurred vision. You really did not need to be reminded of how the person you had sold your soul for abandoned you the moment his life was safe again.

“Revenge is a powerful motivator to harness new abilities.”

You sucked in a breath as you turned to face your patron, taken aback for a moment by how close he was, trapping you between himself and the desk behind you. Only now did you notice how the other souls and fiends who had been here when you entered must have left now, perhaps intimidated by their master’s presence.

“I feel nothing for him anymore,” you finally stated emotionlessly, your expression neutral as your eyes jumped between his.

“That is not the truth, is it?” His question was sarcastic, if anything. “You feel hatred for him. And regret. I can see the burning anger behind your eyes.” He suddenly inched closer, grabbing the edge of the desk behind you with his hands, fully preventing your escape now.

“And what would you have me do about it?” you whispered, tilting your head up so you could keep looking at him, while you leaned away from him, your hands threatening to touch since they still rested on it for support.

The corner of Raphael’s mouth twitched as he cocked his head, his eyes twinkling. Your nervousness seemed to be very entertaining to him, and you cursed yourself for the way your heart began to race as his gaze dropped to your lips for just a second.

He was toying with you; you were sure of it. It was the reason you avoided visiting his House of Hope anyway, and why you dreaded when he decided to visit you. However, it was in your contract. Raphael was allowed to pay you a visit whenever he pleased to ask for a favor if he needed one, in exchange for your magical abilities.

“Perhaps, for a start,” he said, and you could feel the vibrations of his voice on your skin, “make more use of my library. I do not have to offer it to you, but I am choosing to. And I would certainly appreciate it if you would not take it for granted.”

You swallowed, shifting slightly, which caused your hand to brush against his. Sucking in a breath, you quickly pulled it away.

“Think about it, (y/n),” he said, straightening his back again, releasing you from the entrapment, which allowed you to finally relax your muscles. You looked at him for a moment more before he disappeared behind a whirlwind of flaming hot air.

—

You had spent the past days studying tomes in the House of Hope’s archive, diving deep into the knowledge they offered. It was not because of him or his invitation, but you knew he wouldn't believe it, so there was no use in arguing.

He did not check on you once, much to your relief, but still, you could not ignore the hint of disappointment hiding deep inside you. If someone had asked you whether you even just liked your patron, you would have said no. He owned you, or at least your soul for that matter. The difference was almost nonexistent.

You had put your hair up in a high ponytail, bound by a black piece of leather. Still, after hours of studying and burying your hands in your hair when you felt stuck, a few strands had loosened and were now framing your face in a quite inelegant manner.

With sleep-drunken eyes, you traced the edge of the tome in front of you with a finger. You had pulled a chair in front of the desk, but after having sat on it for hours, your back ached.

Rubbing your neck, you lifted one side of the open book and let it fall shut with a loud thud, louder than you had anticipated. It startled you, momentarily waking you from a state of half-sleep.

The House was quiet. Although time passed differently here, there were still moments when activity inside of it decreased, and it felt like a proper day-night cycle, at least for Hell standards.

“Still here?” You turned your head, startled, to find Raphael standing there.

“It would be nice if you stopped sneaking up on me,” you said, stretching your aching muscles a bit. You would have stood from your chair, but you were too tired for formalities. Raphael had never minded much, to your surprise. You believed it was because he knew that you were afraid and wary of him anyway. He did not need proof of it. Though despite your relaxed stance, you were very much on your guard.

“I was told you have been here for hours,” he said, ignoring your remark purposefully. “A tired mind cannot comprehend newly learned information that well. You should rest.”

You scoffed. If you did not know better, you would have thought he was genuinely worried about you, but you were sure that the real reason for this was purely a logical one. Namely, the explanation he had just given you.

With your hand on your shoulder, you looked up at him, smiling faintly. You hoped he wouldn’t see that it was not a sincere smile, but he must have been used to your feigned politeness by now. After all, it was something you had been taught from childhood.

“Sorry,” you replied, rubbing your neck. “I’ll leave. I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome.” The words came out automatically, as if memorized and said a thousand times before. Raphael raised a hand, gesturing for you to remain seated.

“No need to apologise, (y/n).” He approached you, eyes locked with yours until he came to a halt right in front of you. The flame dancing inside the fireplace to your left crackled; the only sound filling the archive now. The fire cast shadows on his face, while he raised his hand and let it linger between you in the air, as if he was not sure whether to proceed.

You looked up at him, lips slightly parted as you held onto the backrest of your chair. Your breath was shallow, the intensity of his gaze resting heavily upon you.

“You don’t need to leave, either,” he added as he finally closed the distance and trapped your chin between his index finger and thumb, turning your head up so you had to look at him, whether you wanted to or not. You swallowed and blinked at him, your cheeks hot.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you felt him trace the edge of your jawline until he reached your cheek, cupping it firmly, yet not strong enough for it to hurt.

The implication in his voice made it hard for you to breathe, partially due to anticipation, and partially because you were scared of what would happen if you refused. He had never been rude to you, or threatened you in any truly concerning way. After all, your loyalty and soul were worth something to him. And still, you had never put your guard down before.

“What are you saying?” You asked breathlessly, gripping the backrest of your chair so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You did not want to risk a misunderstanding.

“You could stay in my bed tonight. I've seen the look in your eye. I've heard the way your heart beats when I'm near.” His hand slid down from your cheek, briefly touching your bottom lip with his thumb, before he reached your chest. He pressed it against you, right between your breasts where your heartbeat could be felt. It quickened again, which made him smirk faintly.

“There.”

You swallowed, wetting your dry throat as you tried to keep your mind clear, but it was hard when his presence was so mesmerizing.

Jaw clenched, you narrowed your eyes slightly and said, “I thought your bed was occupied by Haarlep.”

It was not a question, but an observation.

You did not know where the courage had come from, most likely the lack of sleep, but you could see that something in his gaze shifted at the mention of the demon’s name.

Raphael crouched down beside you, pulling his hand away only to offer you his open palm. Now you were looking down at him, resisting the temptation to bury your hand in his brown hair.

“I dream of you, (y/n),” he whispered, his fingers curling as he looked up at you. “I had not thought it possible for a mortal to occupy so much space in my mind, following me even to my dreams. Haunting me with words that linger in the air unspoken.”

“Are you mocking me?” Your voice was an octave higher than usual, your hand shaking slightly as he traced circles over the back of it. Then, he shook his head faintly, hand tightening around yours.

“I am confessing.”

You inhaled sharply, seeing no sign of deception in his eyes, but beings like him excelled at it, so you could not trust even the sincerity in his eyes.

This was a dangerous game you were playing, and you knew it. How could this ever work with a contract quite literally binding your soul to him? But you were in no state to make judgments, let alone good ones.

You raised your hand toward him, brushing a strand of hair from his temple. He reacted, closing his eyes at your touch as if he had in fact been anticipating it for a long time. You left your hand there, gently touching his cheek when he opened his eyes again to meet yours.

Lips slightly parted, and with newfound confidence, you let yourself slide from the chair down into his lap, straddling him on the cold stone floor. You saw him suck in a breath, eyes flickering between yours.

Behind him, the flame was dancing to a rhythm not yet set, illuminating your face for him to see each scar that marked it; one on your forehead, two on your cheeks, and a small one on your chin. Without the light, most of them would not have even been visible.

Raphael reached out, letting his index finger run over the scar that stretched from your eyebrow to your cheekbone. You had to close your eyes when he reached your lid and opened it again only when he stopped at your cheek.

“Where did you get it from?” He asked, sitting up a little straighter so that your breath mixed between you. You smelled of forest and morning dew, almost entirely muted by his scent of smoke and leather.

“Bandits,” you replied, your noses touching as you rested your hands on his shoulders. “I was lucky to get away with only this scar.” He hummed in response, his hand finding its way into your hair.

“No need to ever fear mere bandits again,” he said and your lips briefly touched as he spoke. Raphael’s gaze dropped to your mouth, and before you could even say anything in return, he pressed his lips to yours.

You pulled yourself closer towards him, feeling the growing pressure against you from underneath. You smirked, liking the effect you had on him. It was then that you realized how Raphael, a powerful being in his own right and heir to Mephistopheles himself, was mere butter in your hands. Perhaps you had been wrong to be so afraid of him the whole time.

You pushed him to the ground so that he was lying on his back with you sitting on his waist, hands pressed against his chest. The fear, if you could even call it that, which you had previously felt was gone now. Fingers brushing against his cheek you said, “You can turn, Raphael. You don’t need to hide.”

He looked up at you, his expression unreadable. You already thought you had said something wrong and felt panic build up in your chest when you saw his horns and wings materialize underneath you. His skin was flaming hot in color now, his eyes burning like two orbs of fire against an endless void.

You brushed across one of his horns, feeling the hard material on your fingers as his wings gently enveloped you, the leathery material tingling your shoulders where they were exposed.

Then, you grabbed his horn and pressed yourself against his body, uniting your lips in a hungry kiss. You, too, had dreamed of him on multiple occasions, a mixture of nightmares and wet dreams, and though you were still wary of the cambion underneath you, you could not help losing yourself in the process.

Trousers were unbuckled, and he dug his clawed fingers into your side when you lifted your hips a bit to throw your clothes away, your eyes always staying locked with his.

“You are eager, aren’t you?” He said, his hands playing with the hem of your undergarments while he smiled, amusement marking his features and voice. “Days ago you could barely look at me.”

Rocking your hips back and forth you stared down at him, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. “Because it was hard not to imagine this each time I did,” you whispered, leaning forward so you could wrap your hand around the erection.

He gasped, exposing his sharp canines as you guided him to the wetness between your legs. With your hand wrapped around his horn, he wrapped his wings tighter around you, holding you in place, as he rolled over so that he was now on top, majestic wings spread out before you. They were large and reminded you of those of a bat.

You had still wrapped your hands around his horns, now both of them, which forced him to keep his head close to yours. He picked up where you left off, matching the rhythm you had set before as his hand came to cup one of your breasts. His sharp nails dug into the sensitive skin around your nipple, causing you to gasp for air, before it settled between your legs, gently playing with the sensitive piece of flesh there.

With each thrust that he did, you felt a stronger need to hold onto him. You let go of one of his horns to wrap your arm around his shoulders, only opening your eyes when you felt his on you. It felt as if his flaming irises could see deep inside the soul you had sold to him, your eyes held captive by them.

You did not know whether this was too personal, whether you were crossing a line, but you leaned forward and pressed your forehead against his, feeling the thin layer of sweat that had formed on his skin, around his horns, and the hard bone that grew from his head like a crown.

When you finally felt like you were close to your climax, you kissed him again, silencing a loud moan that would have otherwise been heard even outside the archive, you were sure.

The thrusting stopped and you held each other for a moment, catching your breaths. He had propped himself up, his hand resting on the ground next to your head as he sat up straight, exiting you in the process. Sweat glistened on his red torso, highlighted by the fire still burning behind you and you smiled softly as he offered you a hand.

You took it, momentarily startled when he pulled you towards him with force, using his wings once again to hold you in place.

“That was a good start,” he whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face. “But perhaps we should take this to the boudoir now?”

A hint of hesitation crossed your face and you averted your gaze, but he placed a hand under your chin and forced you to look at him again. “Do not worry, my dear. Haarlep is of no use to me anymore.”

We might just get away with it The altar is my hips Even if it's a false god We'd still worship this love

#raphael bg3 #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #raphael baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 x reader #raphael bg3 x reader #raphael x reader lemon

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deanstead · 1 year

Text

Private Life

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: When a rumor puts you under the spotlight, Jay makes a suggestion to try to keep the situation under control.

Square Filled: Fake Dating for #resa.3kfiestabingo

Word Count: 5K+

Tags/Warnings: friends to lovers, mentions of stalking, threats, allusions to attempted sexual assault

A/N: Okay, this got totally out of hand LOL. Thank you to @sheetsonfire as usual for beta services and encouraging me to go ahead with this hehehehe

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

You slid into the seat opposite Jay, smiling at your favorite drink already sitting on the table.

Jay didn’t say anything, merely sliding his phone over to you. “You have anything you want to tell me?”

You frowned, taking the phone from your friend, your eyes sliding over the headline.

“Since when do you read gossip columns?” You asked, your eyes scanning the headlines as you glanced up at him, angling an eyebrow upwards.

You’d been friends with Jay for as long as you could remember and if someone had asked you when you’d first met Jay, you weren’t even sure you could give a definite answer, like the memories had long folded into each other and you couldn’t remember a time in your life when you weren’t Jay’s friend. Well, at least that’s if you could be friends with someone you were attracted to and who you had mounting feelings for. Sure, you and Jay were friends.

The edges of Jay’s lips turned up in a cheeky smile. “And since when do you date lead singers from popular bands?”

You made a face at him. “I don’t.”

You glanced back at Jay’s phone in your hand.

Is Patrick Miller dating?

The headline was accompanied with a photo of you laughing with Patrick Miller, the lead singer of one of the most raging popular bands, Helix.

You rolled your eyes. “I write a music column. Wouldn’t I have to go see Helix if they’re in town? It’s work.”

Jay grinned, taking his phone back just momentarily to shake it in front of you again. “Work, huh?”

“Shut up. Stop basking in my misery. This is going to be a disaster.”

It definitely was a disaster.

At first, you’d decided to ignore it, and the band’s publicist had called you and agreed that it was a good idea, hoping it would die down.

But you regretted it after a week, especially when you got a threatening letter show up at your office.

You’d thrown it away, ripped it up and tossed it into the bin below your desk, the threatening words about how you’d better leave Miller or else long forgotten as you headed back out of the office for another interview, thankfully with someone other than Helix.

You’d gotten the letters with increased frequency for the next few weeks, but you’d started taking photos of them before tossing them out. Maybe it was that little voice in your head that resembled Jay Halstead, but you’d done it anyway, just in case.

“This is getting out of hand.” Jay said, as he sat across from you.

“What?” You asked, looking up.

Jay gave you a reproachful look, before he showed you his phone. “They’re crawling all over your social media, they’re digging up photos from years ago, and I could get some of them arrested or at least sued for the things they’re posting.”

You heard the quaver in Jay’s voice that told you he was getting really annoyed.

You reached over, taking the phone from Jay’s hands and putting it face down on the table. "Okay, I don’t think you can arrest people for what they say on social media.” You put your index finger up as Jay opened his mouth. “Not even on my page.”

You took a breath, before you spoke again. “But maybe this.”

You pulled your iPad out of your bag, flipping open to the gallery and handing it over to Jay.

The weird thing was that you could read every emotion on Jay’s face. From general curiosity, to mounting anger, before the worried lines crossed his face and he looked up at you, his green eyes reflecting… hurt.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jay asked. There was no anger in his voice, and you could have sworn it sounded like he was trying to figure out why you didn’t trust him.

That surprised you, just a little.

It wasn't that you didn't know that Jay cared, it was just that it kind of felt like more than…

You blinked, mentally smacking yourself as you pulled yourself back to the present.

"I didn't think too much about it, to be honest. I mean, I didn't even take a photo of the first one I received. But this one…" You reached forward, swiping to the last photo which was a photo of you with your face scratched off. "This one scared me a little."

"Do you still have the photo?" Jay asked, his voice slightly quieter now, his tone back to normal.

You reached back into your bag, taking out a ziplock bag that had the one photo in it and handing it to him. "Just in case."

Jay gave you a small smile. "We'll figure this out."

You nodded and smiled back at him. "Yeah, I know."

You blinked back at Jay from where he was sitting on your couch, like you couldn't believe your own ears, your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

"What?"

This wasn't what you'd expected when Jay asked if he could come over to talk because he had an interim plan while they tried to figure out who was behind this.

Jay didn't say anything so you opened your mouth again.

"Explain to me again why we have to pretend to be dating?" You asked, even though you felt your heartrate pick up a little as the last word left your lips.

Jay shrugged, his attitude as nonchalant as if he had just told you what was for dinner.

"Because they're all up in your personal life. It's dangerous and I'm worried. This is the perfect way for me to be sorta undercover by your side, figure out what's going on without attracting too much attention and maybe it'll quell the rumors with you and whatever this guy's name is."

You kind of got Jay's point. The last point resonated with you because it was true. If you made a post that you and Jay were a couple way before all this happened, plus the few photos the both of you had from when you'd gone for concerts or hikes together, it might just be a believable story.

"My life's all splashed out for everyone. You can't attract more attention." You reminded him, although you knew this was the best plan you had.

Jay nodded. "Yeah, but we don't want this person knowing the police are involved yet."

"Are the police involved?" You asked.

Jay's eyebrow ticked upwards. "Y/N, I am the police."

You couldn't hold back the chuckle, despite feeling the mounting severity of the situation in front of you.

"Yeah, I know, but…"

Jay shook his head. "You're my… you're important to me, which makes this a priority. Voight already signed off on me doing this."

You narrowed your eyes. "There's barely anything. What, did you twist his arm?"

Jay laughed and shook his head. "It's a family thing. It's not an official thing yet but that's not going to stop us."

“What do you say?” Jay asked finally, before you realized he was waiting for an answer.

You didn’t know if it was a good idea, especially if you already had undeniable feelings for him. But you also knew that if anyone could keep you safe, it was Jay. So you swallowed down the lump in your throat that was chock full of your feelings for Jay and nodded.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

It was harder than you thought. Much harder.

When you’d agreed to this, you figured there was no harm. All you had to do was go about your daily life and post a few pictures now and then, since you hung out with Jay pretty often anyway.

But it was like a tiny snowball rolling down a hill, escalating quickly into an avalanche.

You’d posted a photo of you and Jay that you'd taken a few years ago when Jay had surprised you with concert tickets, and with an encouraging nod from Jay, you'd typed in a well chosen caption and emoji.

Helix’s publicist had also released a statement confirming that the rumors were untrue, and public sentiment had split right down the middle - people who thought you were using Jay as a cover, and people who thought you and Jay were cute together.

But you’d underestimated how much people were paying attention to your social media.

Until that one day you’d been out with Jay. You’d just been walking along the street, heading towards one of the less popular cafés when Jay had suddenly pulled an arm around your shoulders pulling you towards him.

Confused, you’d turned to look at him and Jay had smiled, before you realized that people’s eyes were following you and Jay as the both of you walked down the street.

That had been just the beginning.

Very soon, you realized you and Jay had to keep up the charade everywhere except for when the both of you were in private spaces surrounded by only close friends. You only minded because you were afraid that it was getting harder to hide your feelings from Jay when the both of you had to interlock your fingers or link your arms.

You were afraid that very soon you’d stop acting and let your real feelings slip.

Thankfully, Jay seemed to be preoccupied with trying to figure out who was sending the threatening letters as well as focusing on your surroundings when the both of you were out, so nothing seemed to faze him, even when you’d unconsciously reached for his hand on more than one occasion.

Which also meant that he really only saw you as a friend.

You’d let that thought linger once before you pushed it away, startling even yourself when you felt the twang of disappointment resonate through you.

But still, you felt safer with Jay. Even when you’d been waiting in line for some coffee and some guy had come up to you to hiss between gritted teeth that you shouldn’t get in the way of Miller’s career, Jay had been about two steps away and the guy had left the moment he caught sight of Jay.

Jay had then gone to some extra lengths to be closer, standing slightly nearer to you than he usually did, slipping your hand into his. You found yourself feeling comforted and safe, but also found that you had to make a conscious effort to remind yourself not to get used to it.

Despite their best efforts, Intelligence weren’t able to trace the person who was behind the threatening letters.

The letters had stopped but they’d substituted those with boxes of dead cockroaches or even razor blades hidden in bouquets of flowers that showed up at your office.

Even so, the person was careful. There were no fingerprints or any other forensic evidence, although Intelligence had managed to narrow down to a profile, which was impressive considering they were doing this unofficially on top of all their other cases. But the profile was still too common for the audience they were looking at. It was like looking for a needle in a stack of needles.

But when a week and a half passed with no new surprise packages or letters, you were starting to think the worst was over. Maybe they'd gotten bored and moved on.

You glanced over where Jay was leaned against the bar, waiting for the drinks from Herrmann or Stella, feeling a prick of annoyance when a girl sidled up to him. She leaned in and you could see Jay smile before you tore your gaze away from him, looking back to Will who was seated at the table with an annoying look on his face.

“What?” You asked, trying to hide the fact that even you had been surprised by the intensity of annoyance that had surged its way through your body.

You had long acknowledged your feelings for Jay, and seen him through other relationships. So this was really new. You knew you should never have agreed to this fake dating thing.

Despite your internal turmoil, you didn't say anything even after Jay rejoined both you and Will. You were a little worried that Will was going to ask you something but at least he had enough sense not to probe into that part of things, merely asking Jay whether they were any closer to finding the person who'd been sending the threats.

Jay didn't seem to pick up on your mood, which was a good thing.

You’d figured that it was just a fleeting moment, mixed in part with your fatigue of having to almost constantly look over your shoulder, so you’d all about thrown it to the back of your mind until later that night.

Jay had headed out to take a phone call, pointing outdoors to you to tell you he’d wait for you outside. You nodded, handing Herrmann your card, chatting a little as your payment went through before you waved goodbye to them and headed back outside.

Jay was no longer on the phone and both Jay and Will had their backs to you as they spoke.

"I just wish we could end this fake relationship.” Jay’s voice was low but the wind had carried his words right to you.

If you were in a comic strip, the words would be dancing in circles around you. Instead, you just felt a crushing boulder weigh down in your gut, the disappointment almost bringing you to your knees. You took a few slow breaths, reminding yourself that there was nothing wrong with what Jay had said. He was right.

This had been a fake relationship from day one. You’d gone into it knowing that. And if you were totally honest with yourself, the rational part of your brain had known this was a bad decision from the start but you’d been cornered. Between the risk of getting your heart broken and getting attacked by a crazy stalker… You actually didn’t know which was worse.

You straightened your expression before you called out to the brothers. Jay offered to walk you home but you shook your head, not sure you could handle being alone with him now, jumping into the first cab that passed by Molly’s, promising you’d text him.

You’d made an excuse not to see him the next day but you knew that you’d have to talk to him the day after instead. Knowing Jay, he probably could already tell something was up.

The following night after a quick dinner, Jay had walked you home even though you'd told him it wasn't necessary. But Jay had insisted, shrugging and reminding you that stalker or no stalker, he'd always walked you home. You knew he was right, so you'd nodded and the both of you had walked in silence, Jay only stopping once to drape his jacket over your shoulders.

It was only after you'd said goodnight and closed the door behind you that you'd realized Jay's jacket was still sitting snugly around your shoulders.

Usually, you'd just give him his stuff the next day when you saw him. But it had been a little chilly tonight, or maybe you just wanted an excuse to go after him, so you'd pulled on another jacket and gone right back out.

"Jay!"

The wind carried your voice in the opposite direction and it seemed like Jay hadn't heard you because he kept walking. So you'd quickened your pace a little.

"Jay." Your voice was quiet as you caught up with him, touching his arm and he turned in surprise.

"Y/N?" He asked, like he was caught off-guard, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to read you. "What's…"

You reached your hand out to give him his jacket. "It's cold tonight."

Jay looked down before he glanced back up at you, taking his jacket. "You could have just given it to me tomorrow."

You gave him a half-smile. "It's too cold tonight.” You turned to leave when you stopped and turned back to him.

“Jay, listen.”

Your mouth was moving faster than your brain was.

“I think we should end this.”

Jay’s smile was frozen on his face but you continued, like you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to get the words out fast enough.

“Y/N, what…”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

You turned to leave again but Jay reached out for your hand, barely catching it in his. “Y/N.”

Feeling the tears well up in your eyes, you slipped your hand gently out of his grasp, unwilling to let him see you cry. Not when you were crying over him.

Jay didn’t try to stop you again as you walked back down the street and right up to your house, shutting the door behind you with a snap before you sank towards the ground, letting the tears flow down your face.

You’d avoided Jay’s calls the next day and then you’d gotten a few messages from him that he’d gotten wrapped up in a case but that he really wanted to talk and that he’d get in touch once he got this case out of the way.

It was a blessing in disguise since the few days had given you some time and space to clear your head and settle your emotions.

You’d come up with an excuse in your head about feeling safe enough not to continue this charade, reminding yourself not to bring up the fact that you’d overheard his conversation with Will because Jay would most definitely connect the dots.

You are not going to lose your best friend over this.

The voice in your head was stern, and you nodded to yourself as you headed down the street, so preoccupied with your thoughts you didn’t notice the two added set of feet that fell into step, right behind you.

Jay glanced at his watch, in an effort to take his mind off of wandering.

For the past few days, he’d been cracking his brains so hard to try to figure out what had happened and why you’d called everything off.

He’d scoured his memories for something he might have done to piss you off but he couldn’t. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of a reason why you would suddenly call it off with that sad look in your eyes. A look that he couldn’t get out of his head.

Jay frowned, when he realized it was already fifteen minutes past the time you’d agreed upon and he glanced at his phone, noting the lack of messages.

Jay toyed with the idea that you’d stood him up but that didn’t sound like you. Even if you’d decided you didn’t want to talk to him today, with your personality, you’d have made up some stupid excuse just so he’d stop waiting and not worry.

So he picked up his phone, pressing your name at the top of his contact list to call you, even though you hadn’t answered any of his calls since that night.

No answer.

Jay couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong so he’d headed towards the bar, towards where Kelly was sitting, leaning in to talk to Stella who was making a drink.

“Hey guys.” Jay said, interrupting them. “Y/N is supposed to meet me here but… something’s wrong.”

Kelly looked up. “How can I help?”

Jay shook his head. “It’s just a hunch but if she walks in here later just keep her here with the two of you? And call me. I'm going to look for her.”

Kelly pushed his chair back. “Stella will be here. Let me come with you.”

Jay hesitated but he didn’t have time to waste on arguing, so he nodded and led the way out of Molly’s, tracing back the route towards your apartment.

Jay was halfway to your apartment, his gut still stirring with unease, when he paused, pulling out his phone to call you again even though he figured it was useless.

Except this time, the sound of your phone ringing reached his ears at the same time that he spotted the flashing of a phone screen on the ground.

The dread spread across his chest now but it was almost like flipping an autopilot switch as Jay sprinted forward, kneeling to pick up your phone. There was a crack across the screen but it was still in working condition and Jay glanced sideways at the adjacent alley.

There was no hesitation in Jay’s movements now as he slipped your phone into his pocket and took out his gun, glad he’d been carrying tonight, before he headed quickly right into the darkened alley, Kelly right behind him.

The fear that gripped your throat right now was almost impairing your breathing.

You could still feel the hands that had pulled you off the street with their vice-like grip, one hand over your mouth to make sure you couldn’t make a sound, another pair of hands grabbing you roughly by the upper arms and dragging you deeper into the alley.

You’d heard your phone clatter to the ground when they’d grabbed you, your hope seeming to crash at that exact same moment.

Now, they shoved you against a wall hard, you felt the rough bricks scrape your back through the shirt you had thrown on, before a girl’s voice caught your attention.

“I told you you’d be sorry.”

Her voice was cold, calculated and you looked up at her, barely making her features out from the limited light in the darkened corner of the alley where they’d dragged you into. You could no longer see the street from here and the cloudy night made sure that barely any light filtered down towards you.

Your eyes raked across her. She was a pretty girl, her long blonde hair falling to her shoulders, but she also had a sense of familiarity, which you couldn’t place immediately.

You frowned. “You’re the one sending me…” Your voice trailed off now as you realized where you’d seen her before.

You’d interviewed her at Helix’s concert that night. And based off what she’d just said, she’d been the one sending you the crazy letters and packages.

A smile spread across her face. A smile that sent little shivers down your spine.

“Look, Daphne.” You said, her name springing to the forefront of your brain now, the memories flooding back in like a gateway had spread wide open.

She looked up like she was surprised.

“If this is because of Miller, you don’t have to do this.” You started talking but her eyebrows scrunched together when she heard Miller’s name.

“Shut up.” She hissed, one of the guys landing a punch in your stomach that knocked the wind out of you and you slumped back against the wall, only held up by their hold on you.

She paced in front of you now. “I’ve been following him for years. Then you just walk right in and… you pretend you’re interviewing me but then you try to screw him?”

You couldn’t even say anything, the air still knocked out of you.

“You want to be a slut? Fine, my friends can help you with that.”

You looked up now, hoping she didn’t mean what you thought.

But it was too late. You were already being flung towards the ground, feeling your head smack against the concrete ground where your feet had been just seconds ago.

Even through the ringing in your head, you felt one of them grab the edge of your shirt and while the fear gnawed at you, you kicked, your foot making contact with one of their faces.

The guy roared in fury at being hurt, and probably also at being humiliated, and you felt a smarting contact across your face as someone slapped you.

This was it.

The three words resonated in your head even as you were stunned from the physical contact, before you felt someone pull your hands roughly above your head.

Just as you were about to give up, about to proclaim it as a lost cause in your head, you heard shouting, the pressure on your wrists were gone and then you felt someone reach for you again.

Instinctively, you fought, twisting your body away until you heard it.

That voice.

Him.

Jay Halstead.

“Y/N, it’s me!” Jay yelled, and you paused, feeling the waves of terror be replaced by relief.

He was here.

“J..”

Jay scooped you into his arms, pulling you towards him and away from the commotion, before he stepped in front of you.

One of the guys headed towards the both of you and Jay, focused on keeping him away from you, twisted his body and pushed him against the wall, lifting an arm to block the blows, throwing a punch across the younger guy’s face, acutely aware that Kelly was just as busy with the other guy.

You’d lost track of Daphne, until you felt someone tug your hair back roughly.

Without even thinking and partly encouraged by Jay and Kelly’s presence, you flung your arm backwards, making contact with her face, just as another voice rang through the air.

“Chicago PD! Hands in the air! Now!” Jay turned towards the sound of a familiar voice that belonged to Kim Burgess. Kim already had her gun raised, Hailey was wrestling Daphne off of you and Adam was moving in as well.

With no other thought, Jay let Adam take the boy he’d been wrestling with before he made his way to you.

“Y/N. Let me see, are you hurt?” Jay bent over you but you just leaned into him, the sobs making their way up from your chest even though your stomach still hurt where he’d punched you and your face smarted.

“You’re safe. I got you, alright? I’m sorry I was late.” Jay whispered, pulling you gently into a hug, one arm around your shoulders, the other hand resting gently on the back of your head.

You’d been whisked off to Med right away, but not before Kelly had checked on you and you’d had the presence of mind to thank him for being there.

Now, you were left sitting in the hospital room on your own. Ethan had checked you out to make sure there was no additional internal injuries so you were just left with a mild concussion and bruises. You could still feel the ache from the punch you’d taken right in your gut.

You looked up as the door opened again and Jay walked in with a small smile. “Hey.”

You returned the smile, half glad he was here, half feeling a little awkward. This would have been much better if the both of you had had the opportunity to talk before…

As if Jay knew he needed to fill the silence, he spoke. “Stella filled them in when the team went to Molly’s, so…”

You nodded. “So we got lucky?”

Jay chuckled, before he looked back at you again. “You feeling okay?”

“Mostly.” You shrugged. “But I guess I’m not getting out of here today, huh?”

Jay smiled and shook his head. “I spoke to Will too. They’re playing on the safe side.”

You nodded quietly, falling back to silence again.

It felt like it dragged on for a long while as your fingers fiddled with the sheets of the hospital bed you were in, your mind whirling. This awkwardness had never happened to you and Jay before. Never.

You glanced up to look at him, realizing he was already looking at you and you felt the clench in your heart again, as if you were on the steps of Molly’s once again, hearing Jay tell Will he wished it was over.

Maybe it was the stress of that evening, maybe it was Jay sitting next to you here in silence, but this time you weren’t able to hold the tears back as you felt it fall down your cheek. Jay’s expression shifted immediately into one of concern as he noticed.

“I wasn’t going to bring it up. I wasn’t going to ask but I just… I think I have to know.” Your voice was quiet and Jay just shifted closer towards you. “What was so hard for you? This fake relationship was your idea. So what did you have such a hard time with?”

It was out and there were no take-backs. You felt a few more tears slide down your cheeks but you didn’t even raise your hand to swipe them away.

Jay didn’t respond immediately, the silence settling around the both of you again.

“Because it was fake.” Jay’s voice was soft but steady and you looked up in surprise.

He got up from his chair now, moving closer to you. “It was hard because it was fake, Y/N. I was getting greedier, I wanted to be with you for real.”

Another tear slid off your cheek as Jay leaned in slowly, his hand resting on your neck gently as he pressed his lips gently against yours.

You blinked, like you couldn’t comprehend what was going on, before your eyes fluttered shut again.

He pulled away after a moment, his eyes trying to read your expression and when you blinked back at him again, he gently swiped away a tear from the corner of your eye before he smiled and you nodded, leaning towards him just a little more.

Now, Jay leaned in fully, his lips grazing across yours before he went deeper into it and you felt the whole world stop, sinking into just being with Jay as you kissed him back.

When the both of you pulled away this time, you were both smiling.

Jay was still leaned in close to you and you reached forward for a hug, fitting yourself into his embrace as he pressed you gently into him, turning his face towards you to press a kiss to your temple.

“See, this isn’t too bad.” Jay said quietly, and you giggled softly.

“New beginnings?” You asked, pulling away to look back at him.

Jay smiled. “About time, too.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

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Character taglists are open!

#resa.3kfiestabingo #resa.fics #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fanfic #jay halstead oneshot #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x y/n #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd oneshot #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfic

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mondaymelon · 1 year

Text

hush. (yandere!childe x gn!reader)

warnings! this series contains yandere implications, mentions of murder, kidnapping, stalking, and blackmail usage. there will be pov swaps that are marked by symbols!!

(for more information please check my masterlist here)

part 1 here! ←

(a/n) this post contains triggering topics and generally dark themes. please read at your own risk. ^^ this is the second part in the yandere childe series!! requests are closed, sorry ✩

˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

He had let you go once. It had been a foolish mistake. And since then he vowed to never do so again.

✾✽✾✽

Work in Inazuma had gone... interestingly. The mere idea of having a puppet run the nation, at least that was what the fatui files entailed, was intriguing in and of itself. The culture was just so different and the scenery so stunningly vibrant compared to the bleak snowy tundras of Shneznaya. Yet, Shneznaya still felt so familiar and, well, homely.

On the topic of Shneznaya, or more specifically, Tartaglia, you often thought about him. While the two of you frequently exchanged letters, it was a painstakingly slow process and was in no way an ample replacement of actually being able to be with him. The aching in your heart subsided each time you received a good-spirited Tartaglia's letter, but it just wasn't the same.

Was it selfish of you to wish he felt that way too?

But there was no time dwelling on strange thoughts like those. Work in Inazuma had been extensive. In came as a surprise that you would be working with Signora, another one of the Fatui Harbingers. Still, you supposed it was foolish of you to hope that sending just one general to the nation was enough to end all of the fatui's problems regarding Inazuma... still, you were slightly disappointed.

But that was okay, since Signora treated you nicely. She wasn't as close to you as Childe, not by a far margin, but while she did have a cold exterior, she was a lot more sweet on the inside than you had expected.

However, you had a feeling that if you said that aloud to her, she would certainly not be pleased, so you kept all those feelings to yourself. Nevertheless, there was never a day where you were bored, so all in all, you had it okay.

If only you knew what Tartaglia was facing, halfway across the continent in a different nation.

༘⋆♡⊹。°˖➴

I miss them.

I want to see them. Their smile, their laugh.

I want to talk to them and laugh at their jokes.

Those were the thoughts that ran through the male's head as he stared down at the device he had commissioned from Fontaine wearily. They had said that if would be undetectable, and all he had to do was somehow install this onto you or one of your belongings and then he'd be able to hear everything.

In short, it was a listening device. And it had been bought at no cheap price at all, considering it was high-quality and built for long-distance transmissions. But if it really did work the way he had intended to, then it would be all worth it.

And so, he lovingly sent one of his best guards, whom he knew would never betray him. But it was never a bad thing to be cautious, so he made sure to make him sign a contract - if he failed, it would be punishable worse than death.

That way, his little darling would be kept oblivious to it all!

And it did work.

About a month later, as the soldier returned, he relayed his extensive report the harbinger, but really the only words he heard were, "They didn't notice a thing."

Perfect.

And so he waited for a perfect time, when he knew you would be asleep. Watching the round moon rise up from the craggy horizon, he laughed to himself as his voice cracked in a manic manner. "I'm keeping my promise, aren't I, love? I'm taking care of you in my own special way!"

The sound of your breathing and soft snores were transmitted into the device, along with the ambience of the inazuman rain in the background, and the man let a smile spread across his face at the sound.

"Soon. Soon I'll be back and I'll never have to worry about you leaving my side again."

– end of part 2.

prev. masterlist. next.

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justagamerandaweeb · 25 days

Text

Deflowered - Muzan x Reader (Revamped)

The next story remake on this list features the smooth criminal himself. Do people still call him Muzan Jackson, or is that a dead joke? Ah, who cares? Enjoy the story!

A couple of months have passed ever since Muzan spared your life and took you in as his significant other. You knew he was a demon, but for some unknown reason, you've grown to have a huge liking for him.

So much so that you wanted him to make you more than his significant other.

You were sleeping in your bed, shifting side to side as you were whimpering in your sleep as you were dreaming of something so erotic.

"You want this, don't you? You want to be marked and claimed by your king, shooting my seed inside you as I make you my wife?" he whispered in your voice as he slid his finger up and down your folds.

His voice sounded like it was purring like a big cat, you could hear the gravel in his voice when he whispered to you, and that made your toes curl a little. "Y-Yes, Muzan... P-Please..."

"Please, what?" he said as a smile started to form on his face seeing how submissive you were to him. "P-Please... Make me yours..."

He softly chuckled as he says, "Anything for you, darling." and started to suck on your neck. You felt his canines graze your skin, making you whimper a little. As he was rubbing your slit, he started to unbuckle his belt with a his free hand.

He yanked his belt off and unbuttoned his pants, and pulled his pants down, revealing his erect shaft. He stops rubbing you as he mounts on top of you, and caresses your cheek as he says, "Get ready..." prods your hole, and slowly moves his hips forward.

You softly groaned as your eyes began to open, you looked around to see that you were still in your room, and that the dream was over. You lay your head back down on the pillow as you thought to yourself, Muzan... what are you doing to me? You're a demon... let alone, THE demon... and yet, I'm catching feelings for you...

You then took the comforter off and sat down at the edge of the bed, looking down at the floor as you were reminiscing about the dream you had. You softly gripped the bedsheet with both of your hands and you exhaled through your nose as you stood up off the bed, and opened the door.

You only had your nightshirt on as you softly walked through the hallway barefooted, hearing the sound of your soles sticking to the wooden floor.

You then arrived at his door, and softly knocked on it to see if he was inside, but you heard no answer. You knocked a littlr bit harder, and still nothing.

You look at the doorknob, and slightly hesitated to grab it as your hand started to shake. You slowly breathed into your nose, and out with your mouth as you grabbed the knob, and twisted it, and opened the door.

"M-Muzan?" you softly spoke as you peeked through the door to see that the room was empty. There was a bed, a desk, and a couple of papers on the counter next to a couple of vials.

You slowly walked in and looked around the room, coming to realize that it looked surpisingly nice. You walked up the counter and decided to read some of the stuff he wrote.

One of them piqued your interest, it was a letter that had your name on it. What the... you picked it up, and unfolded it as you read it.

You intrigue me,

From the very first moment I met you, you've done nothing but make me curious of your entire existence. Why do you intrigue me so? What makes you so special among all those other worthless human, nothing but mere cattle for a near perfect being such as myself. Yet you... Is it your beauty? Have you casted some spell on me or seduced me in some way? No, it's clear you haven't. You're so painfully soft and yet, somehow, I hold a strange fondness for it. You yourself remind me of a Lily of the valley. You're personality seems so pure, you are always so joyous, sincere, loving and in some ways or one, lucky. You intrigue me, (Y/N), yet I wish not for that intrigue to fade.

Kibutsuji, M.

The sound of your heart beating in your ears we're so loud, you thought they were gonna burst. You put the paper back on the counter, and turned around to see Muzan standing behind you.

It felt like your heart stopped for a moment, as you were looking at his blood red eyes. "How was the letter?" he says, snapping you back to reality. "U-Um... It was good..." you said to him, scared about what he was gonna do next. "I-I'm sorry for being here, I was looking for you so I could tell you something, b-but, I'll go back to my room, and forget this even happen." You said as you were walking away from him, when suddenly you felt his hand touch your right shoulder.

"Tell me." he said behind your ear, and your body went a little stiff. You could hear the purr of it, just like in your dream. You slowly turned around to face him, and said, "I-I... had a dream about you... "

"What was it about?" he questioned you, his arms crossed together, and he waited for your answer.

"I-It was about the two of us together... We were both cuddling and you... y-you..." your face was turning red as you were too embarrassed to say the next part.

Muzan walks closer to you as he grabs your chin, and caresses your cheek. "You can say it."

You grabbed his wrist as you continued, "You... started to kiss me... Not only that, you were touching me... spot down there... A-And once you'd stopped... you took your pants off a-and..."

You then felt Muzan's finger touch your lips as he looked at you with a smirk on his face as he said, "I love you, too, my darling."

He then wrapped his arms around you as he lowered himself to your face and kissed your lips. Your eyes widened as he proceeded to pick you up with little ease, all while kissing you.

He turns around and walks to the bed, and puts you down on it. He started to deepen the kiss as you felt his tongue slowly twirling against yours. Whimpering as you felt him touching your cloth-covered body.

He stops kissing you as he says while touching you, "Do my hands feel rough on your body, or do you like them the way they are?"

"I-I... like the way they are... Y-Your hands... they feel... s-so rough, yet so gentle on me..."

He then lets out a soft chuckle as he says, "I don't want to hurt my partner when I show them how much they mean to me," he pecks your lips and continues, "Especially when I have genuine feelings about them." and kisses you again.

You let out a little groan as he kissed you, and then you felt his free hand run up to your arm, and lock his hand with yours. His hand felt a little boney compared to yours, but yet it felt like his hand had some muscle too.

His hand that was touching you though, started to go down to your legs, and he grabbed the end of your nightshirt, and slowly started to pull it up, to the point to where he revealed your whole body.

You blushed as you both stared at each other as Muzan said, "Do you want me to reenact what happened in your dream, or do you want me to treat you better?"

Your thighs softly rubbed together at the thought that Muzan could do better than touching your spot, so you nodded and said, "Treat me better, please."

He then smiled, and he kissed your cheek. He then started to go lower as he kissed your chin, and your neck, and started to make a line of kisses down your body until he kissed your inner thigh, and wrapped his arms around both of your thighs.

He then looked at you with a smirk on his face, which made you flustered as you covered your face from embarrassment. He then chuckles as he looks down at your untouched lips, licked his lips, and begins to lick yours.

You gasped as you felt his warm tongue lick you down there. Your back softly arched from the texture of his tongue, and moaned from the feeling of it touching your slit.

"M-Muzan..."

He smirks at the sound of you moaning his name out as he continues to lick your slit. He then started to suck your bead, and twirled his tongue on it, which made you moan even louder than before, but then you quickly put your hand on your mouth.

He stops and says, "What are you doing?" You sat your head up, and removed your hand from your mouth a little as you said to him, "I... Don't want to be loud... someone might hear us..."

"Oh, darling... No one is gonna hear us. So please, don't be afraid to let out your voice." He said as he kissed your slit.

You slowly removed your hand away from your mouth, and your heart was beating in your chest as your breath was trembling, and you softly gripped the comforter of the bed.

His smirk formed into a smile as he went back to sucking your clit, making you whimper again as you laid your face on the side of the pillow.

He then took his index, and middle fingers, and slowly started to finger your insides. It didn't help either that he was licking your clit in the process.

Your muscles felt so stiff, your toes were curling, your breath was hyperventilating, your heart was beating rapidly, and your knuckles were turning white. The pleasure was overwhelming to you, it felt like your brain was being overstimulated.

"Muzan! I-It feels so good!" You whined out as you were hiccuping and your breath was trembling. Muzan didn't say anything, but inside he was proud of making you feel like this.

Muzan then closes his eyes, and defided to suck on your clit again, but he decided to take his index finger out of you, and traded it in for his ring finger.

And what felt like white noise in your brain, he started to move them rapidly, making your entire body surge with a state of euphoria. You put your hands on his head as you stuttered out in ecstasy, "D-Don't s-stop!" as you felt closer to your climax.

Muzan did what you asked, and proceeded to suck and lick on your clit, all while fingering you in a rapid pace until you couldn't hold it in any longer.

"I-I'm!" You muttered out as Muzan moved out of the way and took his fingers out as he watched you ejaculate, watching your juices spray out of you as it some of it went on the floor, and the bed.

Once you finished, it felt like your body shut down as you were exhausted from finishing, your muscles would occasionally twitch, and you would let out the sound of a yelp as you lie dead on the bed with the pillow covering half your face.

Muzan sat down next to you as he caressed your hair, and cheek as he said, "That's a good girl..." with a smirk on his face. "S-Stop... I feel too sensitive..." you whimpered out as Muzan responds to you, "But you look so adorable like this. Vulnerable. Tired. Lustful." he then gets to your ear and whispered in your ear, hearing the cat-like purr in his voice as he says, "Do you want to satisfy me too?"

You look at him, and Muzan backs away from you as you were struggling to sit up due to your muscles feeling weak after your climax. You got on your knees as you wrapped your arms around his neck and laid your head on his shoulder as you said to him in a feeble tone, "I do..."

He then smiles and whispers in your ear again, "Then lay down, and let me make you feel special." He wrapped his arms around you and lowered you back on the bed as he stood up off of the bed and started to unbutton his black long-sleeve shirt.

He took his shirt off to reveal his tone, muscular body, along with huge scars that covered his body, and arms. Scars that looked somewhat fresh, but in reality were there for a very long time.

He notices you staring at them, and walks up to you as he says, "Give me your hand." and you comply. He grabs your wrist, and pulls your hand closer to his body as he lets you touch his scars. "This, was caused by someone who nearly killed me. I still get flashbacks thinking about that night..." he says as he thinks back to the day he almost died to that long-haired swordsman. To this day, he couldn't believe how easy it was for the swordsman to trumatize him, and how easily he would've died had not he ran away.

He shook his head as he said, "Now's not the time to think about that. I want to make this all about you." he cupped your cheek and kissed your lips.

He then mounted on top of you and then began to suck on your neck, licking it, and gnawing his fangs on your skin. He whispered in your ear, "Are you ready?"

You then touched his chest as you looked into his eyes and said, "I've been waiting for you to say that... Yes, I am." Your hand slowly goes down his abdomen, and to his pants. You softly pulled on them, and Muzan chuckled.

He grabs your wrist and says, "Patience, my dear. Let me do it." you look up at him, with his cat-like pupils staring back at you, and then you let go. He then unbuckles his belt, and yanked it out of the belt loops.

He then pulls his pants down to reveal his shaft to you, and seeing fully erect, pulsating in front of you. It's blood red tip, and its pale white skin, made your slit throb a little. He then crawled up to you as he kissed you, making you elicit a moan from your mouth.

As he was kissing you, you felt his shaft grazing against your lips, which made your body receive a little shock throughout your body. "You feel so wet... is that your way of telling me how much you want this?" (Y/N)'s face blushed out of embarrassment as she didn't want to admit it, but she was taking an immense amount of pleasure from this.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you won't forget about this moment." Muzan said as he propped himself up, and grabbed his shaft to line up to her entrance. He prods his rod up against her hole as he felt her slowly gripping him in. "P-Please don't tease me any longer, Muzan..."

His mouth was gaped open, but he formed a smirk on his face as he lowered his face to yours, closed his eyes, and kissed her. And to top it all off, he slowly moved his hips inside her, slowly filling your insides.

She whimpers from the feeling of his rod slowly stuffing her as she clamps down on him, and embraces him as she locks her arms and legs around him. Muzan saw this as a sign, and started to move his hips as he thrusts in and out of your hole.

The muscles of her arms and legs coiled as she moaned inside his mouth from the heavenly stimulation of his fat cock rubbing her insides. He then stops kissing her lips, and started to kiss down on her body instead. Her chin, her neck, and her clavicle, were treated diligently as he was giving her what she deserved.

A string of saliva stretched between them both as Muzan slipped under (Y/N)'s arms and sat up as he grabbed her waist, and began to move his hips like a piston. (Y/N) arched her head back when she felt the inconsolable amount of bliss that she was undergoing. The feeling of his hips moving at a breakneck pace, made her body feel so feathery.

"M-Muzan..." She reverberated his name with every thrust he did, your voice would violently tremble. He lets out a moan, that almost sounds like a growl as he then looks down at (Y/N), and wraps his hand around her neck. She puts both of her hands on his forearms as she croaks out his name, "M-Mu... zan..."

He forms a sadistic smile on his face as he spoke to her in a malicious, yet hypnotizing tone, "You like being controlled by your king, huh? You like my cock tainting your pure, pink walls?" He said, as he softly tightened the grip on your neck.

(Y/N) looks at him and despite having a cruel-looking smile, his eyes had a sense of love and care behind them. "I-It f-feels good, Muzan..." she hoarsely said to him, having a smile on her face. He got close to her face, and said to her, "Open your mouth."

She then does so and he said, "Stick out your tongue." which, she complied. He then stuck his tongue, and his saliva started to leak at the tip of it, and slowly down to yours. Once his saliva touched your tongue, both of their tongues were twirling with one another as they both were exchanging saliva from the kiss.

He then stops as he looks into her eyes and says, "You're mine, you hear me? You belong to me, and only me, you got that?" And she nods again. Her eyes started to flicker as she started to feel lightheaded from Muzan choking her. He then let go of his hand around her neck, and had a mini coughing fit as oxygen started to go back to her brain, and lungs.

Despite doing that, he kisses (Y/N)'s head as he utters the words, "I love you." to her, making her heart flutter with love, and hunger. He then goes under her neck, and opens his mouth as he started to lick her, getting a taste of her soft, felicitous complexion, before he bit it.

She made a loud gasp, than transitioned to a trembling moan as she closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around his body, and head, and let him bite her. The feeling of his teeth nearly puncturing her delicate skin, all while thrusting his hips, and hitting every spot of her womb, made her enter a state of eternal bliss.

He makes the sound a growling moan as he started to sink his teeth deeper, as he started to thrust his hips faster at a blistering rate as he felt his shaft twitching inside (Y/N). However, (Y/N) began to whimper again, but not from him sinking his teeth deeper into her, but from the feeling she was getting from her abdomen. It started to feel tighter, like an entire vice grip was choking her body as her toes began to curl, and her breath started to hyperventilate.

"M-Muzan..." (Y/N) plead in a high pitch tone as she felt the vice snap as she felt a tsunami of relief as she sprayed, and creamed all over Muzan's shaft and pelvis. Her body was twitching and sensitive from overstimulation as she was enduring the feeling of him pumping his shaft inside her. Her arms slid off of him as her body was bouncing from his thrusting.

His breathing started to sound more heavy and sonorous as his thrusting started to become more sloppy until he makes a sudden stop, and lets out a quivering exhale as he felt himself finishing inside her. (Y/N) let out an atrembled whimper as she felt his warm, sticky spunk filling her womb.

Muzan stopped biting down on her neck, and leans back to see an imprint of his teeth on her skin, which made him form a huge smirk on his face. A sense of pride that filled his body with happiness. He then kissed it, and then lays his head next to yours as he grabs your chin, and pecks (Y/N)'s lips. "How was that, darling?"

All (Y/N) could do was pant as her body was still recovering from the action you both prosecuted. She wrapped her arms around him, and once he was about to take himself out, she said, "N-No... stay inside me, p-please..." making Muzan configure an astonished expression on his face, but compiled nonetheless.

He wraps his arms around you, and pecked your sweaty forehead. "I love you... Muzan..." (Y/N) said, sounding extremely fatigued as her breath was still trembling. Muzan strokes her hair as he said to her, and the most soft-spoken tone you ever heard him in, "I love you too, my sweet princess..." and kisses her forehead one more time as he watches her sleep.

___________________________________________

04-01-24 - Well, that's another remade OS in the books, still got a few more to go, but the way I'm doing is new story, and then a remake. Hope you guys like this one, and until next time,

👋✌️♥️.

#demon slayer smut #kny smut #wattpad #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #anime #kny x reader #demon slayer fanfic #f!reader #ao3 #muzan kibutsuji #kny muzan #demon slayer muzan #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #muzan x reader #muzan smut

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imthefemalemonster · 1 year

Note

Hiii

Can u Yandere!Daemon Targaryen x reader

He kind of force her to marry him after he arrive in pentos (he didn’t marry leana) time pass and she just love him and they have lots os kids. They go to leana funeral but daemon don’t left her side, when people tried to talk to him alone he says that his wife stays. The one second that she left his side to attend one of their kids Rhaenyra came to his side and asks if he love reader and he barely look at her before saying that she’s his moon end stars (Khal Drogo vibes) ❤️❤️❤️

Hello beautiful! Of course I can, I loved the ideas and I tried to develop a bit more the start of the relationship, I hope you like it. ♡

***

⸻We'll Meet Again

Daemon Targaryen x Female!Reader (Fluff/Mature themes)

⸻ Summary: Love grows mysterious way; you soon find out when Prince Daemon Targaryen seeks your hand and even the Gods themselves wouldn't dare refuse him.

Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Dubcon, (at the beginning), Obsessed/Overprotective Daemon, Forced Marriage, Innocence Kink, Age Difference, (age not specified but reader is ~20), Fluff, Kisses, Hugs, Mention of Sex, No Use of Y/N, No beta feminism left my body when I wrote this

⸻Read on Ao3

Notes: Requested by anon, I hope you like it. ♡

There’s mention of some sex/virginity loss/first time but nothing too bad, not really smutty more fluffly with Daemon being obsessed ((manipulative)) and overprotective with you. ~

Warning for dubcon at the beginning.

Tumblr for ideas/requests: @imthefemalemonster

Smut & fluff prompts: here & here

⸻ Words: 4934

The afternoon sun hit your skin as you walked down the streets. Busy and noisy, you wandered with ease in the crowd, in the city you knew all too well. You had to meet friends at the port, the one Pentos was most known for. You had proposed to meet in the beautiful gardens close to your home, but the air of the sea suited your friends more. As you arrived near, you looked around, only finding goods, people and boats. The familiarity of the place reassured you, the smell of the water like a mother’s embrace. But as you walked down the gardens, into the city and to the port, for some time now, you had felt eyes on you, two orbits you saw too much to be a mere coincidence.

Daughter of a public figure of the city, your father made rich from the trades of spice, you were accustomed to interested men gravitating around you. But youthful as you were, or rather innocent and unbothered. You had never really thought about the next big steps in your life, you preferred living in the instant. What pleased you were long walks, books that told a hundred stories, and the little voices in the walls who recounted the tales of love and betrayal of the people of the city, of the lands, and past the sea. You listened with much care, learning about the things you would maybe never see. Seated next to your friends facing the sea, you heard songs and stories, your noses in books as you all laughed and speculated on how the other people outside the city must live. You had a few friends over there, girls you met times ago, their letters would crack under your curious fingers, drowning into the words of another world. As you listened to the story of your friend and flying lizards, which you longed to see one day, you noticed the presence back not far away from you. You couldn’t quite catch the sight for long, everytime your eyes met, the figure would disappear soon after. You had never paid much attention to it, you were used to being looked at. But something deep inside you knew that this was different. Turning your head back to your friends, you soon forgot the blonde locks and lilac stare, until the next time you meet.

It happened in the garden the second time you really paid attention to it, you won a tender smile. The third time a voice, a low, deep one who sounded both like a threat and honey, like a blade would tenderly brush your skin, each second menacing to pierce your body and see the blood flow out of it. The fourth time, you couldn’t remember, was it at the port again? Near your home? As the day passed, it felt like everyday. Everyday a shadow behind you, eyes on your figure. Hands that grazed your back, fingers brushing your neck, smiles exchanged. Curiosity got the better of you when you approached, naive as you were. The gardens were full of people, talking, laughing. Digits touched slightly as the words flowed in your ears, lips sweet against your skin. He had a name and a title you would not forget. Once again the orbs left you alone, your hands gripping the silk of your dress, lips parted as you wanted to call him back. Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Daemon had rarely held this much restraint. What he desired, he always got, whatever it cost. So when it came to you, he observed, he stalked, he learnt. You were much younger, walking around the city with an innocence to match his insolence. Your laugh was honey to his ears, your face as enchanting as the sun, your voice a bliss he could beg to hear singing, as you did once in your home’s garden as he was resting near. The first time he noticed you, you never left his mind. It was similar to poison, but one he would drink day after days after day even if it consummated him to the bones. Without your knowledge, he followed you in the city, he watched your fingers turn the pages of a book, the details of your joints engraved in his mind as they moved gracefully. He observed your lips moving as you talked, laughed, called to your friends or spoke words he drowned into. Daemon desired you all over his body, and desired him all over yours. At first it was soft, discreet caresses. When he got tired of just following you around, he craved to touch. He lost his hands behind your exposed back, digits tracing your spine. He observed you shiver at the touch, trying to meet the eyes of the culprit of these unwanted caresses. Daemon would smile at your visible distress mixed with curiosity, his arousal growing stronger with each touch. He grazed your neck, arms, hands. He wanted to possess you whole.

When he noticed people, especially men talking to you, he would fixate on them until they couldn’t hold his lilac stare anymore and they would leave. Rejoicing in the newfound power he had, as much as his reputation gave him, he observed you walking alone, shadowing you like he was your dark reflection caused by the sun. After you really interacted for the first time, to his delight, exchanging names and smiles, he was even more present at your sides. He never thought you really appreciated it, he never cared, in time you would, he would make you love it. So you walked together, talked all afternoons long, spend evenings together. He would randomly show up at your door, surprised but touched by the attention, you obliged him. When he walked all the way to you, he would grab your wrists, his figure broad and impressive, you felt small, a kitten held in gigantic arms. You couldn’t quite tell if you appreciated it, all the attention, all the time, but your life had become his. Everytime he met you eyes, Daemon used all his strength, everything he didn’t know the Gods could give him not to press you onto him and devour you whole like he dreamed for weeks now.

That night, Daemon had invited you to a sort of feast organized nearby. You weren’t sure what was celebrated, but you accepted as you loved to hang out. Maybe you could find your friends there, some you hadn’t seen for some time now since you spent most of your time with Daemon now. You felt some relief at the idea, the city was noisy with music and voices, busy with lights and fire at every corner, you rejoiced at the atmosphere. When you stepped out of your house, he was already here. The Rogue Prince, standing fiercely, eyes stripping you from your thin dress as he looked at you from toes to head.

“You smell really nice.”, he whispered as he stalked toward you, hands resting on your waist as his head leaned into your neck.

The contacts had become so much more intimate the past few days. You only thought it was gentle and attentionate. Sometimes you couldn’t quite decipher the smirk on his lips as he looked at you. To you it was kindness, to him it was hunger. He reached for your hands, thumbs caressing the skin, his digits trapping your own as he guided you toward the exit, down the streets, into a grand and beautiful house decorated with magnificent mosaics. There he placed his arm around your waist, locking you against him. Inside, you walked like a couple you were not, to you, not to him.

Daemon had hoped you would stick with him, now that you had learned the lesson. Maybe he had not worked hard enough, or maybe you were really this naive. When you immediately left his arms, the heat of your body leaving with you, he groaned in discontentment. Stalking behind you as you wandered and talked to people you knew, he observed each of the faces, each he would remember so they never talked to you again. His digits found your neck, your arms, your back, but everytime you escaped his control. You went around laughing, sometimes turning back to smile at him and invite him near. He drowned in these moments you would look at him, and him only. That all of you were focused on him. He could grab you, lift you above the crowd and claim you as his. After hours of talking and laughing, music buzzing in your ears, your feet and body were exhausted. You were still in the middle of everyone, you sighed ready to leave as you felt a harsh grip on your waist. You recognized the touch immediately, Daemon’s chest pressing in your back, his lips brushing the overheated skin of your neck.

“Give me your attention.”

The words left his mouth so fast, cold as ice, it felt more like an order than an invitation.

“I’m sorry?”, you mumbled, eyes filled with confusion.

“I haven’t received any.”

You choked on the words. His voice wasn’t low and soft like it used to. It was guttural and scary, like it was coming from a part deep inside him you never wanted to meet with. You heard the stories, you would rather not finish impaled on a sword or fed to a dragon.

“All night.”, he continued, spinning you around with no care for your tired body, his eyes staring into yours, intimidating.

“All-”, you paused, uncertain of his intentions, “I’ve been with you all night.”

He scoffed at the words, a hand on your neck, squeezing it slightly. Smirk on his lips, more vile than kind. He pressed his broad body onto yours, you felt crushed, by him, and by all the people around you.

“You have not paid attention to me all night”, he repeated, the sentence like a blade ripping your throat open, “Apart from glancing at me and laughing with other… men.”

The last word was accentuated like an insult. You swallowed, his thumb pressing on your neck as he felt it. You felt both angry and sorry. Maybe you could indulge in more time with him, but you already did everyday. You sighed. One last time then.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes sparkled at the words, lips moving into a soft smile. You had found the right words, you thought. He nodded, a hand cupping your cheek. A gentle and reassuring move, to you. To him, he could mold you to every of his desires because you were so easy to frighten.

“It’s all fine.”

You smiled as he lowered his hand to your wrist, brushing it gently, digits closing around it as his body started to move back, taking you with him

“You can give me this attention now, I promise to use it well”, he murmured against your face, flushed at the hot air hitting your skin. “How about we finish the night elsewhere?”

Unsure what the words meant, you simply nodded, letting him guide you outside. You walked past people and houses, down the street to the port, where you loved to rest during the day. It was dark, deep in the night as you sat facing the sea. You felt reassured, it was just another gentle evening at his side, maybe he had gotten overwhelmed by the people, and you wanted to reassure him that your friendship was still intact. Legs slightly brushing one another, he fixed at you. His face had changed, you couldn’t quite decipher it. He was smiling, but it didn’t feel gentle. You wanted to ask a thousand questions.

Daemon was lost in his thoughts. He was so close to both his goal and climax. Your naive, flushed face turned toward him, he could have lost it in seconds. He dreamed of your scent and naked body, to have you scream his name on the very floor. But he doubted you had the same idea in mind even if he wished you did. Forcing the act was considered but he didn’t go with it, he would rather avoid a diplomatic incident. He was surprised by his own restraint. He would win this war with words and touches, like he did for weeks now. You would yield.

“I’ve never felt stronger than when you’re with me.”

Your eyes widened at the words, knowing him, it meant much. Blushing you lowered your head to your hands, shyly intertwining your fingers as they danced on your dress.

“How strong?”, you laughed. He focused on your hands, his eyes lost on the motions as he dreamed of having them all over his scared body.

“Give me your hand and I’ll show you.”

You obeyed, raising a hand toward him, unsure what he would do with it. He softly grabbed it with his own, he paused for a second, observing every detail on your beautiful skin, before softly kissing the top of it. You shivered at the touch, cheeks red and eyes escaping the intimate sight.

“Daemon-”, you chuckled. You had heard and read a thousand love stories. This is how they started and you smiled at the nice intention. You tried to withdraw your hand, ready to ask him to take you home, your tired body starting to hurt. But when you moved your arm, he only squeezed your hand harder, pulling it to him. You frowned your eyebrows, raising your head to look at him, confused. Everything sane had left him, his eyes were as dark as the night and as savage as the sea.

“You are my love.”

Waves crashed near you. You wished they would have swallowed you whole with the words just spoken. You had understood Daemon’s intentions a while ago, you weren't a stranger to the flattering of men. But you had never shown interest back, you thought. And if you ever did, you wished for it to take the time it needed, the one you needed. Maybe love wasn’t the word yet, you had sincere feelings for the man, gratitude to his kindness and attention.

“I don’t-”

You couldn’t speak. What could be said?

“You don’t love me?”

Eyes closed, your hand still trapped in his, you felt it tense, squeezing your harder. It felt like a warning, not like concern.

“I-”, you searched for the right words again, “That’s not what I mean no. I truly appreciate you…”

“Then what?”, his eyes pierced right through your heart, it bled like rain falling from the saddened skies.

“I’m not- I’m not ready Daemon”, you spoke, voice trembling.

“You don’t need to be”, he rasped, “You never truly are.”

You shook your head at the words, it didn’t make sense.

“I don’t want it.”

His digits dug in your palm, his breaths heavy. You wondered if it was going to be the sword or the dragon that would end you.

“You don’t”, he whispered, he had not moved a bit, like he was turned into a statue, his face similar to stone, “Then what of the touches? The smiles? The laughs? The time spent together?”

“Simple kindness!”. You let go of the words, wondering if you would regret them, “You were nice, and I appreciated it, so I was nice too. That’s it.”

“But that’s not love to you?”, he scoffed, “Oh you truly are that innocent.”

“I never said it wasn’t, I only said I didn’t know yet.”, you whined, “Maybe with more time.”

“I don’t want more time.”, Daemon grumbled, “I know what I want.”

You raised your eyes to meet his stare, as time had passed, you had both moved closer, you got lost in his eyes and him in yours.

"I want you.”

Your heart stopped beating, it felt like void, no noise was to be heard but the whispers of the sea. May she deliver you. Silence loomed for minutes.

“B-but my family”, it was merely an excuse, you didn’t really care. You only wanted to get out of here, out of his manipulative grasp.

“They didn’t deserve you.” His thumb brushed your hand softly, he almost had you. “I’ll treat you well. I’ll love you. I already do.”

Eyes tearing up you closed your eyes, focusing on your heart racing again. Your digits intertwined like real lovers.

“Love…”, he whispered. The words had you tensing. It felt good, yet menacing. Did you even have a choice? Accept and it was done, but refuse? It would probably be worse. You heard the stories, you knew the stories. You felt his presence lean closer to you, his nose brushing yours.

“F-fine.” You gave up. Maybe you only needed time. He drank your words like the best wine, his smile malicious, victorious.

Thoughts and prayers were taken away from you like air in your lungs when his hand grabbed the back of your neck, pushing your lips to his. The distance was closed in a wet contact, much more gentle and loving than you imagined. And to the first kiss followed the first night.

Your father was quick to accept. You never really thought about his opinion on it, but considering his status there was nothing more he could wish than having you bed a Prince. You felt a sort of abandon when they agreed so fast. To be tossed around wasn’t your greatest joy. You still had to process the last night and the gravity of Daemon words. Your father wasn’t necessarily overjoyed, everything was business to him. If the business was good, then he rolled with it. Within the day it was done. Now Daemon didn’t have any sort of restraint concerning you anymore. He stayed at your house and came when he wanted. At first it was a grand annoyance to you, you felt like liberties had been taken away. But as the days passed, the word ‘husband’ slinging on your tongue started to please you, as you were met with ‘wife’, even if you preferred ‘my love’. You couldn’t quite explain it, something felt right.

You sensed something different in Daemon, like his chains had been taken off. He was still terribly overprotective, especially after claiming before all as his wife and to his words, ‘his greatest love’. You experienced everything of a wife, and more to the fact that you were the Rogue Prince’s. Now Daemon was not shy to threaten anyone who would look down on you or wouldn’t treat you well enough to his taste. The men walked toward you eyes on the floor, the women envied you as you told the thousand kind attentions Daemon had toward you everyday. He wanted you both to experience everything of love and more.

The first time was… strange. You remember his own excitement and your confusion. You had… read things. But you still rested there on the bed, inexperienced and exposed to his expert hands. Freezing and tense, your heart beat to a never ending race. When he crawled above you, you braced yourself for the pain you have been told about. But to your great surprise, you were drowned in praises and kisses, exchanging smiles and laughs. You remember the feeling, it was painful, but it was accompanied by your loving husband's willing hands and mouth. For the few seconds of pain you had, he granted you hours of pleasure. And it never ended, each night back at it. You kissed and kissed, whispering words, your bodies enlaced, full of him as he melted into your tender embrace, worshiping your body like the Gods.

The first kick happened at night. You couldn’t sleep well as the month went by and your belly grew larger. When you felt it move your eyes widened. It didn’t hurt, it just felt weird to feel the little babe growing inside you manifesting itself. Smiling, you brushed your skin hoping it felt it too. You leaned closer to Daemon, fingers tapping his chest. Sleeping was much easier for him as he was glued to your body, legs intertwined, arm under your head and breath heavy against your sensitive skin. He emerged when you kept pinching his cheek, trying to get his attention. He turned to you, face half awake, worry in his eyes. Since the start of your pregnancy he had been more than overprotective. You struggled to thought it was possible. But he followed you everywhere, never leaving you alone. He ensured you always had maidens around in case anything happened. You took naps together, bathed together. He spend hours head resting next to your growing belly, peppering kisses all over it. He whispered soft and loving words to the babe. You watched him, brushing his hair while he felt asleep on your chest.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?”, he spoke, sitting up, his hand brushing your shoulders, thumb circling the skin in a reassuring manner.

You smiled at him, gently guiding his hand toward your baby bump.

“It keeps moving”, you mumbled, falsely vexed as you closed your eyes to melt into his touch. His digits grazing the skin, slowly tracing your rounded belly. He laid back on the bed, face next to yours as you exchanged loving kisses, the baby’s kicks reminding you of its presence. “They are going to love you.”

“They?”

“I want many of them.”, you smiled against his lips. He laughed into your mouth as he planted kisses on it.

Entering into labor was probably the scariest thing that happened to you. You had heard much about giving birth, but all the words Daemon would whisper in your ears couldn’t calm you down when the first contractions happened. It felt like tearing your body apart. You groaned and used words nobody thought could come out of your mouth. You ripped the fabric open in your hand, cried to whoever would hear you. As always, Daemon was at your side. You screamed and begged him to never leave you. He promised it and he never left you. The only time you allowed him to was when he stood up fiercely, your son in his arms as he cradled it, walking back to you. Dropping the little whining babe in your arms, he sat next to you, brushing the sweat off your face. He laid next to you, arms over your body and the little one. I love you. The sun set and the moon rose, the years passed and he was here for your second son, and still here for your little girl.

“I’m not leaving your side.”

Daemon looked after your two little boys like the most precious things he had. They looked very much like him. Fearless, brave, insolent. They ran around the house, escaping your sermons when Daemon laughed them off. They looked up to him with such admiration, he walked them to the port, trained them with the sword, and rode Caraxes with them. He had all eyes on your two little Princes. He praised them, kissed them, hugged them, loved them more than you could ever hope. You watched them grow in his arms. After their birth, waiting for your third child who happened to be a girl you wondered if he would treat her any different. Worries bubbled in your belly as she grew. She was very much like him too, which Daemon adored. He cherished her with everything he had, he taught your boys to love her as much. Barely walking, held between her older brothers, she walked with them to the port, into the gardens, her eyes sparkling like her father, fire into her veins. The girl was very talkative, even if her babbling didn’t make sense to others, Daemon listened to it for hours as she sat on the bed with her small hand moving in the air. He was so attentive, so focused, he answered back and their connection grew stronger each day.

“You were right here all along.”, you whispered.

Daemon raised an eyebrow at the words, unsure of what they meant. You were both laying in the grass, the afternoon sun cradling you both as your children were running around amongst the flowers in the garden. You heard their little yells and laughs as they were chasing butterflies under Daemon’s attentive gaze.

“You do love me.”

“You thought I lied?”, he murmured. There was no anger in his voice, but you could decipher a hint of sadness.

“No”, you reassured, cupping his cheek gently as you smiled at him, “But I like that it showed through the years.”, you paused, “By other means than grabbing my hand and kissing it.”

A shy laugh left him as he kissed your temple. You felt a small presence at your side as you turned, meeting with your lovely daughter, still struggling to hold onto her feet.

“Love you”, she babbled, resting her chin on your shoulders. You pinched her round cheeks and she laughed, head wiggling to escape your teasing touches.

“And me?”, pouted Daemon, falsely looking annoyed. The little girl raised her eyes to meet his, their lilac orbits clashing. There was as much insolence in her as there was in him, he loved and encouraged it each day.

“Love you too.”, she finally spoke, tongue escaping her tiny lips in defiance. A smile tore through Daemon’s face as he scoffed, twiddling the mess of her hair.

Leaving Pentos for the first time in your life was a huge step forward for you, you only wished it wasn’t because a close friend passed away. For years you exchanged letters with Laena, she was sweet and caring, strong and loved. Daemon was obviously saddened at the news, he apprehended going back there with you and the children. Having you around all the people, some he hated, made him only grow more annoyed and anxious as you embarked for the Driftmark. He hid it but after years together you knew how to interpret each of his moods.

“Never, ever, leave my side”, he ordered before you arrived.

“Didn’t we promise that to each other?”

He smirked at your answer, you had learnt your lesson well years ago. None of you was leaving each other's sides. Never.

As you met with more and more people, family and distant friends, you were asked everywhere. Faces unknown to you, gripping at your children as you held them onto you. You smiled and pretended, but Daemon wasn’t. Apart from his close family, which were his brother, sister and niece, and a few selected friends, he was cold to everyone else, especially those who looked down upon you. You were a woman of a distant land, some treated you like an exotic good to be handled and looked at. You greeted people with politeness, speaking a few words of your land. You felt your husband's grip tighten around your waist. Digits intertwined with his, you tried to reassure him, soft smile on your lips.

During the day, Daemon was asked more than once. Everytime the men looked at you with nonchalance as you accompanied him. He walked fiercely at your side, holding you like his most loved and precious prize. But you were much more to him than that. Anyone who dared to ask you to leave you meet with the famous Dark Sister, and probably regret it.

“She stays with me.”, he husked everytime the men wanted you to leave him. Nobody dared to contest the Rogue Prince’s decision.

Gentle smile on your face, you would rather avoid a slaughter. Each time Daemon started to threaten the people that treated you too badly to his taste, you would brush his face, his shoulders, desperately trying to soothe him before he lost it. Still you were reassured he never wanted you to leave his side, this new land was making you so anxious, looking after your kids as they ran away with others, scared to lose everything you had built for years.

Later that day, your little girl couldn’t stop pulling on your dress, whining that she wanted to go and see the pets, as she called the dragons. You had seen them too, beautiful, impressive, you wanted to take her closer to them, but Daemon was lost in an important conversation. Softly you whispered to him, his eyes traveled to you and his daughter as you pointed to them. For a second he hesitated, squeezing your hand harder, but he couldn’t refuse anything his children asked. He nodded, worry in his eyes as he watched you both walk away from him, already missing your presence. His eyes never left you, smirk on his lips as his boys jumped, hands in the air to get the wyrms’ attention. He heard their laughs and yells when the impressive dragons moved around, observing your figure, bent over to hold your little girl.

“They are beautiful, Uncle.”

Daemon recognized the voice, nodding at the words. Rhaenyra moved to his side, her magnificent eyes staring in your direction.

“They are”, he murmured, eyes still fixated on you and your children, a hand on the hilt of his blade, the other empty, missing your loving warmth.

“You love her do you?”, she questioned, asking like she knew the answer.

“I love them”, Daemon corrected, smirking, “Our relationship is the most important thing in my life.”

He paused for a second, eyes closed. He hoped the wind could carry his words across the lands and seas.

“I am but a starless sky without her. Empty. Lost. Each time they shine it reminds me of her laugh, her smile, her warmth. She'll always be the spark to my void.”

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #fics #dubcon #**mine #What did I just wrote

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