#King in Black: Scream 1 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

some-bunniii · 2 months

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My Charming Red Savior [4]

・❥ A friend revealed, and warm feelings.

x: pronouns are she/her. no use of y/n.

xx: decided to change the saving fem!reader to its AO3 title, so all parts of this fic have been updated for this change as well!

~6.8k words

warnings: depictions of blood/injury

“Did I miss anything?”

Those were the first words the King of Hell had spoken atop the large patio, as you stood in awe, battered, with dust and debris sticking to your body. You blinked, frozen in place as your eyes scanned over the pearlescent man’s figure, who grinned charmingly across from you.

He leaned lazily against the gold railing, now partially destroyed from the small explosions that had peppered the front of the hotel. The screams and snarls from below were all but silenced now, except for one or two stragglers who could be seen making a run for it in the distance. But, not before a large, swamp-green tentacle snaked around them, and began beating them into the ground. It wasn’t long before your gaze was back on Lucifer, a million thoughts racing through your head.

It wasn’t until Lucifer’s smile faltered slightly at your silent staring, did he clear his throat, nervously tapping against the apple-tipped cane in his grip. “You look a little shaken up, are you doing good over there?”

You were about to open your mouth to speak, until your eyes darted to another small, cylindrical object flying right towards Lucifer. You recoiled, throwing your hands in front of your face as it closed in on the fallen angel.

“Watch out!” You cried to him, squeezing your eyes shut as you waited for the familiar boom of the grenade to shake the patio. Lucifer whipped his head around, eyebrows raised as the grenade soared towards him. Lifting his arm, he caught it in his hand before it could hit him in the face, before raising it to get a closer look.

You splayed your fingers, peeking through the small gap when you realized once more that your heart was still beating. Raising an eyebrow, your face contorted into surprise as your gaze rested on the object in Lucifer’s hand.

The bomb ticked quietly in his palm, slowly increasing in speed as the seconds went by. It vibrated in his grip, and Lucifer only inspected it casually, rolling it between his fingers with interest.

Was he just going to hold it until it exploded? You watched silently with wide eyes, unsure of what exactly was going to happen. If it went off, would the King of Hell even have a scratch on him? Maybe, that was why he seemed so confident holding a bomb in his hands. Watching Lucifer catch it casually in the air a few times only cemented that thought.

The perks of being immortal, you supposed.

“Hm, seems they got the timing off on this one,” Lucifer observed, just as the ticking seemed to increase to every millisecond. Right when you were sure it was about to go off in his palms, Lucifer’s fingers curled around it. It looked like he was squeezing the cylinder like a balloon, as the black, metal surface contorted, shifting from the pressure.

Instead of lighting into a ball of flame, the bomb exploded in a burst of multi-colored confetti. Which sprayed across the patio, a few stray pieces landing on your face as they settled onto the floor. You were silent, in awe at the magical display. Lucifer only grinned at you, a silent boast of his powers as he caught you gawking. He adjusted his collar, still leaning against the railing as he brushed some confetti from his shoulder pads.

Realizing he had noticed your staring, your cheeks began to heat in embarrassment. You lay your eyes for the first time on the most powerful man in Hell and all you can do is stand there and look dumb, get it together! Leaning forward, your head practically hits the cracked tile flooring as you bow.

“Your Majesty, I apologize for my rudeness!” You quickly pipe up, your eyes still locked to the floor as you keep your head down, “Thank you for saving my life, I don’t know if I’d be alive without your intervention.”

“It was no biggie.” Lucifer shrugged, waving his hand in the air in a sweeping motion, as he brushed off your compliment. He lifted himself from the railing, taking a few steps forward as he began to cross the patio. “Can’t have my daughter’s friends be attacked by a couple of low-life thugs.. again! What kind of a father would that make me?”

You straightened, lifting your head to meet his gaze. Your brows furrowed as the words left his lips, mouth opening slightly as if you were about to question him on his statement.

‘Daughter’. Was he talking about Charlie? Of course, he must be, she looked like a carbon copy of him! But, that would mean… it wasn't an imp that had approached you yesterday morning during your shift. At least, not any normal imp. Does that mean you had been talking to…?

It was in the same instance that Lucifer leaned in closer to you, his eyes squinted in thought as he inspected your face. He placed a finger on his chin in thought, as he regarded you with a curious expression through those soft, yellow eyes of his.

“Wait a second… do I know you from somewhere?” He questioned finally, raising an eyebrow in anticipation. You smiled as you thought of a response, your hands rubbing together in a soothing motion. Lucifer’s eyes lit up in recognition before you could say anything, and he snapped his finger as connected the dots.

“That's right! You were that sweet worker at the formalwear store yesterday, weren’t you? The one that opened early for me!” He beamed, taking another step closer as your eyes widened at the proximity.

“Y-yes, that was me, Your Majesty.” You stammered out, cursing yourself so being so godamn nervous. “Except, I wasn’t really aware that you were... well, you?”

“Oh, heh, yeah, my impish disguise. Pretty good, eh?”

Yeah, it was. There wasn’t anything that would have made you guess that imp was actually Lucifer, at least before you had met the man. Except, for the height. That hadn’t seemed to change between the two appearances, as you still had to lower your head to meet his gaze even now.

You took a deep breath, calming your jittering nerves as you again realized who was standing right in front of you. Never once did you think a lowly citizen of Hell like you would be this close to the Lucifer Morningstar! Should you have kneeled instead when you greeted him? What was the proper etiquette for this kind of thing? Alastor would have surely known.

That thought made you lean over slightly to get a peek past the fallen angel’s brimmed hat. Your eyes followed the slender, shadowy forms of tentacles snaking around the last two criminals, who were trying to shoot the large masses.

“Aren’t you, um, going to go help..?” You pointed behind him, and Lucifer turned to follow your finger just as another thug was flung past the large fence that surrounded the hotel. Their squeal of fear faded as they disappeared from view. Static-laced laughter filled the air as the tentacles began to dissipate.

“Nah, I think your… friend down there has it covered.” Lucifer shrugged after a moment, turning back to face you.

You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to calm your jittering nerves. Between last night and this, you were about ready to lay in your bed and hibernate for the next three months. Life was exhausting, it seemed.

“Well, that was fun!” Lucifer smiled, nodding along as he clasped his hands together. “Didn’t think I’d find drug dealers trying to knock down the walls, though. Looks like I really have to up the security around here.”

You nodded along half-heartedly, and watched as he strolled past you towards the door. He only made it a few steps before he halted, and you jumped slightly as he pivoted to face you. He waggled a finger at you, mock suspicion in his gaze as he leaned in. Now that you could get a better look at him,

“I also was not expecting to find you here, either. Only yesterday, it seemed like you had no idea the hotel even existed. Now, I find you in the raging path of a feral tea table. An odd turn of events, don't you think?”

You smiled, heat creeping onto your cheeks in embarrassment. You probably looked pretty pathetic when Lucifer was saving you, curled in a ball while you accepted your grim fate. You wished you had some kind of badass demon magic, so you didn’t have to be so helpless. Did Alastor ever feel helpless? No, probably not, he seemed so confident in every situation you saw him face.

The way he strolled down the stairs so casually when the thugs had first attacked, made it seem like he had done that kind of thing many times before. But, it seemed like that was true, since you patched up one scuffle on his coat, and were told of his encounter with Sir. Pentious–which you simply couldn't believe would attempt such a thing, now that you’ve met him–a few months prior.

You wondered what made him and Lucifer struggle to get along, had something happened in the past between them? Maybe, you could get Alastor to budge with that with a little prodding. For now, you were unsure of what to tell the King. How would he react if you said the only reason you were here was because of Alastor? You didn’t want to lose the friendliness you had with Lucifer, it probably wouldn't be fun to be on the King of Hell’s bad side.

Plus, it seemed like Lucifer liked you. Did that have something to do with the fact that he claimed you were a ‘rare gem’ when it came to being a nice person in Hell? He did give you all that money.. which you lost. Maybe, he’d give you some more if you played your cards right.

And, if it was as friends, you wouldn’t mind getting closer to the fallen angel. He was just so funny and charming, you couldn’t imagine the kind of gossip he had to share, and you wouldn't be bothered if he shared it with you.

“Oh, well, beeeecause I was interested in redemption! Ha-ha, yeah. When we talked earlier, your words just struck something in me! So, I took a tour and stayed the night.”

“Really? I inspired you to come to the hotel?” Lucifer asked incredulously, tilting his head thoughtfully at you. He raised an eyebrow, doubt written across his features.

“That’s right! I mean, you even gave me a bunch of money like it was no big deal. That was very kind of you!” You nodded enthusiastically. That wasn’t exactly a lie, since the conversation with Lucifer yesterday did lead to Alastor revealing more about the hotel, which in turn piqued your interest enough to even consider staying for an extended period.

Slowly, Lucifer's eyes lit at your response, a gleam of happiness that you hadn’t noticed before. He seemed to be standing a little straighter too, as if that was some kind of confidence boost for him. Did Lucifer not… genuinely help people often? Was it something he wished he could do more often?

Seems like ruling a realm full of demons that continually commit the worst atrocities known to mankind would break an angel’s will to want to make a change.

“I wanted to thank you again for your generosity,” you started, your tone genuine as the glint in Lucifer’s eyes only seemed to grow, “All that money you gave me would have really helped,

“Would? What happened?” Lucifer inquired, tilting his head curiously.

“Some guy mugged me,” you stated bluntly, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. It felt weird telling people about your most vulnerable moments. You found no enjoyment in retelling any of these scary events, and hopefully, your bad luck would end soon.

“And they stole everything from you?”

“Yeah…”

Lucifer huffed in annoyance, his teeth baring slightly as he exhaled a hot breath. He couldn’t exactly be surprised, it was Hell. Not to mention, the guy has been neglecting his kingly duties for a while now and has only just started going to meetings for crying out loud.

“Jeez, I’m sorry about that. Here, let me jus–”

“Where did that new girl go? What do you mean you haven’t seen her?” You could hear Vaggie’s voice from downstairs, as the gaping hole in the side of the hotel made it much easier to hear their conversations now.

You heard multiple inaudible responses to the question, before Vaggie’s rose above them with renewed anger.

“She’s still up there?! you’re telling me none of you numbskulls went to get her after that big explosion?”

“₩Ⱨ₳₮?!” You heard a snarl of static at Vaggie’s words.

Tensing, you kept your eyes trained on Lucifer as you strained your ears to eavesdrop on the voices below. It seemed like they were looking for you now, did they even know whether Charlie’s dad was here?

“Alastor, hold up!” You heard Angel Dust’s call from the bottom of the staircase, which made you pivot to face the closed doors not too far away. Lucifer, who was standing a few steps away from you, looked up curiously as the doors swung open.

Standing there, chest heaving slightly, ears twitching, was Alastor. His eyes instantly landed on you, before quickly scanning over your figure for injuries. Did he just leap up all those stairs? That wasn’t a very short distance by any means.

His arms were outstretched beside him, as he gripped both doors. Alastor’s claws slightly dug into its wood frame as he observed the smoking, half-burnt balcony with a tight-lipped smile. It wasn’t until his eyes met Lucifer’s–you swore you saw a flicker of surprise cross his gaze–that something seemed to flip like a switch inside the demon, and Alastor straightened instantly, his ears returning to their normal placement as corrected his posture.

A large, toothy grin appeared on his face, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze darted between you and Lucifer only a few feet apart. His eyelid twitched as Lucifer sent him a deadly grin behind you, the tension in the air thickening to the point where you felt like you’d suffocate even in this open space.

You only smiled brightly in return, sending Alastor a finger wave as you sidled a step away from the fallen angel beside you. Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to be having fun as he pivoted slightly to face you. A mischievous glint in his eye as he cocked his head at Alastor, a haughty look on his face.

“Can I help you?” He feigned irritation, an eyebrow quirked as he sent the demon a pointed glance. As if Alastor had just barged in on the two of you deep in discussion, souring the mood.

Alastor wasn’t able to get a word out when multiple footsteps echoed from behind him, noisily clopping up the long staircase as they bickered amongst themselves. A familiar pink spider popped his head over Alastor’s shoulder, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the pearlescent face beside you. More heads appeared around, their eyes scanning across the balcony as they observed the scene.

“Dad?” Charlie asked, squeezing through the clump of nosy demons, surprise written across her face as she passed Alastor.

“Honey!” Lucifer beamed, a smile gracing his features as he met his daughter halfway. Charlie extended her arms, ready to accept Lucifer’s large hug as he returned the gesture. He held her for a moment before he released her, backing up a step as the others pushed past Alastor’s figure to get a better place behind the princess.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at that art auction?” Charlie questioned, tilting her head at him.

“That ended last night.” Lucifer nodded, “Now it’s some kind of celebratory artist-only afterparty, which means even the King of Hell cannot attend, unfortunately. So, I thought I’d drop by. Good timing, it seemed, or else your friend here would not be standing here any longer.”

Lucifer turned to you, gesturing to the dust and debris hanging to your clothes, as you stood there silently with that same awkward smile.

“Oh, yeah. She’s interested in being a resident of our hotel, for redemption!” Charlie smiled excitedly, proud to be able to show her father that her dream was slowly expanding. You nodded along, your hands clasped together politely as they discussed you.

“Yes, I heard! We’ve been having a nice discussion these past few minutes, her and I. A real doll, this one is, just like when I met her previously.”

“You two... have met before?” Charlie finally asked, confusion laced in her voice as she looked between the two of you. The demons behind you shot curious glances in your direction, silently waiting for more juicy details.

“She was there when I bought your tuxedo! I was in disguise, though, so nobody saw me as.. well, me. She even opened up early for me, just out of the kindness of her soul!” Lucifer scooted beside you, nudging you in the arm playfully as he spoke. “Guess you could say I owed her a rescue after that considerate gesture.”

“Did you throw a party up here, too?” Vaggie piped up from the doorway, kicking away at a few stray pieces of the colorful confetti that was sprinkled across the floor. Charlie’s eyes were glinting as she processed her father’s words, before glancing down at the new red suit that she was wearing. She looked up at you with renewed interest, a blooming on her face.

“That was all His Majesty, actually,” you finally spoke, lifting a hand to your mouth as you giggled, “It was pretty impressive, to be honest, I’ve never seen a party trick like that before. I thought the confetti was kinda funny.”

You purposely avoided looking at Alastor as you spoke, so his reaction to your praise was a mystery. Lucifer only smiled proudly beside you, your words boosting his ego.

“Well, that’s not the only trick I’m good at,” Lucifer chuckled. Before he sent you a wink, then a playful smirk that he swept across the small crowd. Their eyes were locked on him, captivated with anticipation for the charming angel to display some of his magical talents.

Except, for Alastor, who only smiled widely, his eyes crinkled in annoyance at the theatrics. You didn’t pay him much mind, instead keeping your attention on Lucifer. During your time in Hell, you hadn’t come into contact with many figures that could harness demonic magic so effortlessly, apart from Alastor.

The King of Hell, however, was on a whole different level, he had pure angelic power. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and you were not going to miss this for anything. However, it seemed your admiration was a little too evident, as you missed Alastor's squinted gaze analyzing your expression.

Lucifer finally rested his gaze on Alastor, who met his eyes, just as he tapped his cane against the ground, a flurry of golden sparks igniting from the touch. a vortex of golden eaves began to swirl around his cane, before flooding across the destroyed, cracked floor of the balcony. It was like a small ocean pooling at your feet, and it felt like the ground was shifting underneath you.

Sticking a finger gun towards the split table, Lucifer shot an explosion of magic against its surface, and it crackled with energy. Before you could blink, the two pieces slid together, attaching like Lego pieces back onto their legs. Fresh color adorned the wood, a lovely shade of peach with matching chairs. It settled onto the ground, with not even a scratch from the abuse it had just received.

He aimed a few more magical-loaded digits towards the broken railing, and the spilled flower pots, making pew pew sound effects with his mouth as he did so.

The balcony began to shift back into even better condition than it originally was, the broken scenery straightening itself back into form. Slowly, the golden waves against your ankles dispersed and were pulled back into Lucifer’s cane.

The large, white marble tile beneath your feet was perfectly sealed, not a single crack upon its surface as it sparkled with a newfound shine. You lifted your leg, surprised finding your figure to be completely dry.

The demons around you stood mesmerized by the display, their eyes glowing and lips puckered in a small o. Alastor only tapped his claws against his cane impatiently.

“How is that for a party trick?” Lucifer turned to you, sending you a charming grin.

You were about to open your mouth before Charlie appeared at your side with a happy squeak. Her blonde hair cascaded down your shoulder, the silky strands like feathers against your skin.

“Thank you for the help, Dad!” Charlie beamed, squeezing her cheeks as she stared lovingly at her father, “it’s so great to see you make new friends, too!”

“And, new clients!” Lucifer boasted, adjusting his bowtie with a grin “Last time we talked, I told her all about the hotel and what it offered. Seems like my salesmanship charm prevails once more.”

“How funny,” Alastor’s voice crackled with static as he strode up beside Charlie, planting himself into the small group’s discussion with a grin, “but it appears His Majesty is mistaken, for it was I who persuaded our darling belle here to take a chance at redemption.”

“Pfft! You? Please, you couldn’t even convince an angel to redeem themselves. At least, not with that haircut!” Lucifer laughed, and your mouth dropped open, your gaze flicking to Alastor, who seemed to hesitate for a moment in shock at the bold insult.

Your eyes darted to Charlie. She returned the look, before slapping a hand over her dad’s mouth.

“Okay, moving on!” She replied cheerfully, pinching her dad’s lips closed as she turned towards the staircase. Vaggie shot a glare toward the rest of the onlookers, who began to sadly shrink away.

“I’m afraid Your Majesty is uninformed!” Alastor ignored Charlie, as he walked closer to stand right beside you. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your heartbeat quickening at the realization you were directly in the middle of the two dueling forces.

“Of what?” Lucifer questioned.

“Why, of our association, of course,” Alastor said sweetly, grasping your arm gently as he gestured to your figure. Heat crept onto your cheeks, as you let him slide in closer to you.

“You two know each other?” Lucifer asked, doubt laced in his face as he shot you a questioning stare. You only averted your gaze, unsure of how to respond to all of the prying eyes.

“Indeed! I’m sure you’re familiar with a charm like this?” Alastor smiled innocently, before gingerly holding out your hand, gesturing to your ring finger. That golden ring glinted in the sunlight, and the small rose-gold engraving of the letter A was on full display.

Lucifer’s eyes widened after a moment, and his gaze shot to you, then to Alastor, before landing back on the ring. He seemed to reel back slightly as it finally dawned on him, before his face settled into a look that silently grumbled ‘You gotta be kidding me.’

Charlie gasped, clutching her cheeks as she leaned in closer for a better look. The ecstatic look on her face was a complete inverse to her father, who only averted his gaze at the sight.

You stood with an awkward smile, heat creeping onto your cheeks as you sidled slightly away from Alastor. You did not expect him to be sprinting it back onto these guys, in front of Lucifer no less.

The King only turned to you, disbelief in his features as he sent you a pointed stare.

“You’re telling me you work at a formalwear store, and you picked a guy with this bad of a wardrobe?” He gestured subtly to Alastor’s suit, a grimace on his face as he eyed the demon’s style with contempt.

Alastor only adjusted his bow tie, throwing his hair back as he straightened. He shot you a pointed look too, prodding you with a ‘Are you really going to agree with him?’ stare.

You said nothing, so Alastor only turned to face Lucifer, clasping his hands with a large smile, “I’d take your fashion advice to heart, Your Majesty, but it seems your taste lies at the bottom of a bargain bin, so I must respectfully disagree.”

“Bargain bin?!” Lucifer gasped, a hand shooting up to his chest as he recoiled. A growl rose from the fallen angel’s throat as he opened his mouth to retort, only for Charlie to grab him from behind and pull him away from Alastor.

“I’ll pay you triple the amount from yesterday if you just take that ring off!” Lucifer begged as Charlie dragged him down the steps. “Do you fancy goat horns? I know of someone in the Wrath Ring that is available!”

The father-daughter duo disappeared from view, their voices muffled as you watched the doors slam shut with a crackle of green energy. Turning to face Alastor, you find a smug grin dancing on his lips. You frowned, did this guy really just insult the King of Hell like the man couldn’t stomp him in a moment?

“Your arrogance knows no bounds,” you chastise the demon, waggling your finger as you spoke, “speaking so comfortably with the King in such a condescending manner. He could smite you for that, you know.”

“Verbal sparring with the monarchy is a favorite pastime of mine, sweetheart! I’m sure our dear king enjoys it just as much as I.” Alastor shrugged, twisting the cane between his claws as he regarded you with playful eyes.

“You are such a pain in my—”

Your words died in your throat when the outline of a dark-red rose was thrust towards you, Alastor’s fingers gently curled around its stem as he held it up for view.

“For you.” He smiled, his lips curled in a soft grin.

“Me? But, where did you get this?”

“Some bumbling oaf down there was going to stomp on it, so I stomped him, instead,” Alastor shrugged, extending the rose closer to you as he spoke, “I thought it would be something you’d find interest in. It… reminded me of you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, gaze lowering towards the wine-colored flower. It was beautiful, even with its slightly jagged petals, and the much larger thorns that covered the black stem.

But, for Hell, it was such a relieving sight. To know that something that presented emotions could exist in such an apathetic, pessimistic environment like the realm around you. Honestly, it didn’t have that many similarities in comparison to Earth’s rose, but its mere resemblance made nostalgia pull at your heartstrings.

Old emotions began to boil inside you, and your throat tightened. Even after all the hardships, you still missed the trees and the smell of real, fresh air. The feeling of the sun against your skin, kissing you with a warmth that always stirred a smile onto your lips. Hearing the morning doves in the early spring morning, their gentle coos echoing through the thin veil of fog that settled onto the dew-filled grass.

Now, you were stuck here. A dark, dirty realm that gave you its fair share of grief too. A lot in the span of two days, even. But, the good in it, was seeing the genuine smile that greeted you every time Alastor drank in your presence. Like this morning, when you agreed to join him on the patio, and the way his ears seemed to stand even taller when you said yes.

It was also the fact that Alastor was so intent on presenting this lovely gift to you, that he killed someone just so the rose would survive the chaos, that made you feel so warm and giddy inside.

A smile bloomed across your face, and you gently wrapped your fingers around the stem, right above Alastor’s own. The top of your hand grazed against the softer texture of the rose’s petals, but its sharp thorns nicked at the skin on your fingertips, causing you to grimace slightly. You adjusted your grip slowly, the pain ebbing as you found a comfortable hold.

Your hand brushed Alastor’s as he released his grip, pulling his hand towards him, his gaze traveling to your arm lifting as you inspected the rose closer. All the memories of long, forgotten experiences made years prick at your eyes.

“I.. don’t know what to say. This is so sweet of you,” you replied softly, eyes still locked on the rose and you gently caressed its petals, “thank you, Alastor.”

Alastor watched the emotion flood across your face, and for the first time, he didn’t know what to say next. The look on your features made him feel.. strange.

As if, this was a reaction nobody in Hell has ever given him before, excluding Charlie. It was fear and anger that only ever greeted him. Which he preferred, it made him feel strong, made him feel powerful.

Your soft, sweet smile, however, was something Alastor could get used to. The way the dimples on your cheeks deepened slightly as your lips curled delicately. As if you too were a rose, your petals softly opening for the new day.

His gaze still rested on you as the tip of your nose inched closer to the petals, before you inhaled a deep breath.

It smelled surprisingly sweet, but also with a warm, earthy scent. A hint of smokiness underneath the layer of the sugared aroma. It reminded you of a wood-burning stove, or the smell of firewood that clung to your shirt after a night in the wilderness.

But, also… the faint metallic tang of blood.

Brows furrowing, you pull the flower away, your eyes traveling to the barely visible glistening substance coating part of the stem. It almost mirrored the color of the dark-red petals, and you lifted your gaze to Alastor.

When your eyes traveled up his figure, it was the small trails of red liquid that dripped from his fingertips that made you recoil, a hand to your mouth as you gasped.

“Alastor, you’re bleeding!” The worry in your voice was obvious as you stepped closer to him, trying to get a better look at the small gashes on his skin. He regarded it with indifference, as if it was just a simple bother. You frowned at his reaction, there was no way that didn’t hurt!

He was a sinner, just like you, and almost everyone in the hotel. Mortality was still present in his afterlife, including the sensation of pain. No matter how hard he tried to present himself as a powerful being like Lucifer, he was still just a man who felt the same things you did. If not, with a little different... perspective.

“It is nothing, do not fret about me, my doe,” Alastor brushed off your words, beginning to pull his hand away from your view. You saw a drop of blood leave the tip of his claw, falling onto the cracks below your feet, “they are just feeble scratches, nothing I, the Radio Demon can’t handl–”

Alastor’s words died in his throat, the last of his sentence coming out in pure static as his pupils dilated on your hand wrapping around his wrist. Your grip was firm, preventing him from shielding the wounds from you, as you tugged his hand closer.

This was the boldest move you had made since the two of you had first met. It was usually Alastor who made the first gesture, who took your hand and touched you softly. As if you were a fragile doll that could crack at the teeniest bit of pressure.

The man was so used to control, having complete say in who touched him—which was never, unless you count Angel Dust whenever he tried riling up the demon—and why. If you were some normal face in the crowd making such a move, he’d probably have torn them apart.

But oh, the warmth from your touch that greeted his cool skin had him yearning for more. That blissful feeling that seemed to bloom from inside his bones, that traveled like a river through his veins, filling him up with a strange, yet awfully familiar feeling.

Like, when his mother would sit him down at the table for dinner, a bowl of hot, steaming Jambalaya in her hands that she made just for him. Anytime she noticed he had a hard day, she’d cook his favorite meal.

As a child, he had eagerly scarfed it down, impatient to fill his stomach with such a treat. When he grew older, however, he learned to slow down and savor the explosion of flavors that tickled his taste buds in every bite.

He remembered the way the delicacy traveled down his throat, and how it felt like a fire was igniting in his belly. The warmth emanating from your skin reminded him so much of that.

And that smile that always graced your features at the sight of him? Alastor remembered that from somewhere too. His mother’s lips always curved into a soft, gentle grin that would make anyone butter up in their presence.

Your lips seemed to curve just the same, and the demon was sure if the two of you would have met before the afterlife. His mother would have loved to meet you.

Alastor remained deathly silent, his muscles tense as you splayed out his claws, turning his hand over to have his palm face up. There was dried blood across the smooth skin, which meant he had been bleeding for a while now.

How hard was Alastor holding the rose during the fight that he cut up his hand like this? If it wasn’t for the bickering between him and Lucifer, you surely would have noticed it earlier.

Your fingers gently brushed against the small cuts, blood still slowly seeping from beneath the demon’s skin. You nudged his wound softly, inspecting it with worry.

“Does that hurt?” You asked softly with furrowed brows.

“Does it matter?” Alastor scoffed, averting your expectant gaze.

“Yes! It does, actually!” You retorted, before your gaze moved to your outfit with a determined look. Quickly, you reached down, taking a fistful of fabric in your grasp before pulling it hard. With some friction, it began to tear away from the rest of your garment.

Now, you had a large piece of cloth in one hand, and Alastor’s wrist in the other. Reaching forward, you began to cover his cuts tightly against the fabric.

“Must you ruin such a pretty outfit for something so insignificant like my hand?” Alastor inquired, exasperation lacing his voice, “You’re treating it like some kind of battle wound, I am fine, my doe.”

He didn’t pull away from you, however, as you finished patching up his injury. Inspecting his hand closer, you eyed work for a moment, before you shook your head, dissatisfied.

“I forbid you from doing any activities for the rest of today until you address your wounds,” you declared, crossing your arms sternly.

“Forbid?” He inquired, quirking a brow in amusement.

“That’s right! If you don’t take care of your injury, or let me do it for you, then I’ll have no choice but to put my foot down.”

Alastor squinted at you for a moment, that grin masking his thoughts as he regarded you. Was he going to argue? Sweat beaded on your forehead as you anticipated his answer. It wasn’t like you could exactly stop the powerful demon from doing what he wanted, but you also couldn't just let him strain his wound further because of pride.

Alastor didn’t argue. Instead, he simply shrugged, a pleased smile gracing his features. He closed his eyes thoughtfully, before holding a limp hand towards you.

“Well, if you insist,” he hummed, cracking one eye open to watch you expectantly.

“Really..?” You asked in disbelief, regarding his hand with suspicion.

“If the lady wishes to fuss over my health, I suppose I could heed her demands,” Alastor responded casually, lifting his hand closer towards you, “and, how could I refuse such a generous offer?”

You smiled playfully before slowly wrapping your fingers around the makeshift gauze, trying to get a good grip around his cuts as you held his hand.

“Is there somewhere I could get medical aid inside? Baindaids, alcohol solution… ibuprofen?”

Did Ibuprofen even exist down here? There had to be something similar at least, the Pride Ring was full of mortals that could still feel pain. Was Alastor in a lot of pain? Even if he was, you probably wouldn't get a straight answer from him.

Now, you understood why Alastor and Lucifer didn’t like each other. They were just fighting for who was really the embodiment of pride.

“Hm..” Alastor tilted his head in thought, before his ears twitched, and a sly smile graced his lips, “I do believe I know just the place!”

Without a word, he returned your grip and pulled you closer to him. Your breath hitched, your chest almost bumping against Alastor’s as he took your other hand. The two of you looked as if you were about to start a waltz, as the demon looked out towards the railing, his chest still facing yours as his smile grew.

“Hang on tight, my dear!” He stated chipperly, and you fastened your grip hastily. The air began to crackle with energy, goosebumps rippling across your skin as static seemed to tickle at your figure. Green smoke pooled at your feet, and that familiar tingling sensation overtook you, just like the first time you were teleported.

Alastor only pulled you closer right as the smoke blasted up, cold air hitting your face as you were pulled into darkness. The presence of the hand against yours was faint, but at least you weren't alone this time. You kept your eyes squeezed shut, your heart racing as you waited to feel the floor against your feet once more. Then, you felt a thumb brush softly against your knuckles, it circled soothingly across your skin, and you relaxed slightly.

What felt like minutes really only took a couple of seconds, as you felt soft lighting hit your eyelids, and Alastor stir beside you. His hand didn’t leave yours, as he waited for you to join reality.

“Not so bad, hm?” He prodded you slightly, beckoning you back into reality.

Letting your pupils adjust to the light, the familiar wallpaper from the hotel corridor met your vision. Did he really just materialize the two of you across the building? You didn't have any problem walking, but perhaps Alastor was trying to avoid the small crowd that would have met them at the bottom of the patio stairs.

“I feel kind of queasy,” you responded, shaking your head of the fog in the back of your mind.

“After a few times through, it won’t bother you anymore,” Alastor assured.

Trying to get a better estimate of your location, you turned your head to one side of the hall, taking in the sight of a dark, oak door. The familiar numbering made you quirk a brow, tilting your head towards the smiling demon. He met your gaze, a soft, lipped smile on his face.

“We’re going in my room?”

“Not quite..” he hummed, gripping your shoulders and pivoting you to the opposite side. Your eyes widened, gaze locked onto the matching door of Alastor’s room.

You stayed silent, feet frozen in place as you watched him take a few steps, his good hand wrapping around the spherical doorhandle. Slowly, he twisted the knob until it clicked softly. The hinges creaked with age, and the hallway lights began to spill into the darkened room as the crack in the doorway widened.

You couldn’t see anything through the slightly opened entryway, but your heart quickened as the second passed by. Your eyes flicked up to Alastor, who regarded you curiously, his gaze gentle as your nerves began to display on your face.

“Ladies first!” He beamed, his smile an assurance to your heated skin.

He obviously wanted you to go inside, and part of your brain was nudging you forward with excitement. Alastor was inviting you into his quarters, he was allowing you to take a step inside his world, to get to know him!

The other part whispered hesitation. What lay behind that door? Surely, more than just medical supplies.

It was as if you wrapped a sheet around the reluctance that was beginning to plague your mind, stuffing it underneath the floorboards of your brain. You weren't going to let your flustered mind get the better of you, and have you miss such an opportunity to get closer to the charming demon.

Exhaling a quiet breath, you banished your nerves into the air. Straightening your back, you sent Alastor a warm smile and took a step forward.

wingman!lucifer anybody? ✋

let me know what you think! ☺️ comments and reblogs are appreciated!

tags 🏷️

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites @lunaramune @enigmatic-blues @thytorturedpoet @vanhelsingsbigtoe @mixplara @blue122 @zardward @loser-bby @sirens-and-moonflowers @diaouranask @luzzbuzz @theredviolets @the-attention-whore @rayanicaraynbow @katiebwalczak03 @girl-nahh-two @moonmark98 @asianfrustration13 @thenocturnalreadingotaku @just-here-reading @taintedgenre @fairyv-ice @aisling1985 @missam @funkyexistence @summerofregret@beezgobuzzbuzz @valentique @dory-98 @mo-0-o @willow404 @karolinda007-blog @thehybridprincesshatedchild

#hazbin hotel #hellaverse #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader

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itsmearia01 · 2 months

Text

Past Love || Chapter 1

Various! Yandere! Jujutsu kaisen x Sukuna's past wife! Yuji's best friend! F! Reader

A/N : English is not my first language, sorry if there are some wrong words. This is the chapter 1, you can read the prologue and Chapter 2. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Prolog | Chapter 2

Series summary : You always get the same nightmare over and over every night. You feel annoyed but can't do anything about it. On the other hand, your best friend who suddenly becomes the vessel of a cursed king brings your nightmares to reality. I don't know what happened but the people around you started acting strangely.

Series warnings : Non-con, dub-con, yandere, stalking, kinks, gaslighting, blackmail, overtism, smut, NSFW, Minors DNI, all character 18+ (but first years still first year, try to make sense), sex, rough sex, oral sex, dom/sub dynamics, blood, manipulation, corruption, mind break, forced relationship, yandere character being their own warning, mind control, possessive, kidnapping. ⚠️Jujutsu kaisen character was not my original, credit to Gege Akutami as original author! There's a few OC as my originally made character. If you don't like/ you hate this kind of story, please go.

You are grateful because last night you prepared bento and breakfast you made by yourself for your father and your brothers. And even though you're in a rush, you don't forget to bring your lunch.

And you brought 2 bento. One for you and one for your best friend, Yuji Itadori. Yes, you are itadori's best friend or what you usually call Yuu. How are you not attracted to him? He's totally your type. He is gentle, kind, compassionate, and patient.

During lunch time, you visit his class. But did not find him. Someone from his class said he was on the field with the sports club members.

"Yuu!" You scream his name and he looks up.

He smiled and ran towards you. "(Y/N) Sorry I didn't tell you I was here."

Yuuji approached you. he explains his paranormal club is about to be disbanded and he needs to win the bet so that doesn't happen. "Really? You ask, with a worried face. "yeah, but don't worry bun. I win it!" He said with big smile on his face. You both sigh together and you both chuckling and laughing together.

It doesn't feel like you have arrived at the paranormal club room. There are also your two senpais. You all eat your bento together and you fall asleep.

"HAH-HAH-HAH- That dream again! W-wait where is Yuu and everyone else?" You woke realizing you're the only person there. And it's late, the sun replaced by the moon. You quickly grabbed your bag and rushed out. You searched the corridor hoping to find Yuuji. You think, why didn't Yuu wake you up and instead leave you? It's already night and the atmosphere is very quiet...

You can't help but get goosebumps.

BRAK!

You suddenly hear a loud sound. What's that? It comes from above. You see someone you don't know black hair boy. Suddenly something hit that person...

YUJI!

"YUU! WHAT ARE YOU DOING." you run towards your boyfriend but soon stopped when he looked at you. “T-that mark!”

That's Sukuna's mark! The one who's always on your dream.

"(Y/N)? You-Y-you (Y/N)(L/N)?!"

"S-sukuna..."

He approached you and you slowly back off to the edge of the building, you looked down and just swallowed done. "DON'T HURT HER!" say a boy behind Sukuna. Sukuna heeded the remark and Pressed your cheek with his hand. "Do you remember me, my dear (Y/N)?"

BRAK!

Suddenly someone kicks Sukuna from the side and pulls you in his arms when you almost fell off building. "Didn't I say to protect civilians, Megumi?” said that person. It turns out a black hair boy named Megumi.

You continue to see the person who is still hug you. Tight. White hair...

"Y-you're a member of the Gojo clan?" that person looking back at you. "How do you know, Princess?"

"We don't have much white hair in this country." You say. And he hummed. I don't know why you feel nervous to see, his smile more feels like a smirk.

"Hmm, interesting... What's your name beautiful princess?" he asked.

"(Y/N), my name is (Y/N) (L/N)"

When you say that he's a little surprised… Then his grin grew wider, wider than before as if he had just heard the most heartbreaking news his life.

"(L/N) huh? Is this fate? The Gojo family and (L/N) are business partners and establish close relationship." You freak out a little as he grabs your chin and gets closer to your face.

"So (Y/N), my name is Gojo Satoru. I was a jujutsu high tokyo teacher. Nice to meet you, Princess."

His face is getting closer and your lips almost touching, but prevented by black-haired boy around your age that you know his name is Megumi. "S-sensei..." he said while walking away balance towards you. he held stomach and as if awakening from hypnosis, You remember Yuji.

"YUU!" You screamed approaching Yuji releasing yourself from the young Gojo's arms. You approached Yuji's body that was lying down unaware. You see the wounds all over his body.

You took your hands out and placed them on Yuji's stomach. Light goes out from your hand and slowly closes and heal the wounds on his body. Megumi and Gojo looked at that with impressed. well, there are who have similar power, but nothing that really looks like a naked eye light produce.

——————————————————————

You keep pacing back and forth in front of the room... You've already healed Megumi and are now waiting for Gojo and Yuji who are in the room.

"why are you so worried?" You were awakened by Megumi's voice. "I don't know... I'm just worried about Yujl..." You saw his expression soften and he smiled. Somehow you feel that's not a face he usually shows to other people.

"As long as there is Gojo Sensei, we will be safe... After all, we haven't met yet. My name is Megumi Fushiguro, what's your name?"

You're reminded of something... "Fushiguro-san? Have we met before?"

"Hmm? I do not think so? Why do you think so?"

"The only Megumi I've ever known in my life was from the Zenin clan..."

He flinched at your words and seemed to be trying to remember something.

"Could it be you... (Y/N)(L/N)?!"

You look at him confused when he suddenly looks at you with surprise. "Um... Yeah? Do you remember anything?"

"That's right, it's me! Megumi Zenin... I left Zenin and became Fushiguro... Do you remember when the Zenin family and (L/N) had a meeting? We always played together."

You look surprised, a happy childhood memory... "You're a Gumi?!"

"Shhh... Slow down, that call is a little embarrassing..." He said while his hand covered your mouth. He let go of his gag. He looks so cute with his blushing face, you think he's so embarrassed by that nickname.

"I think we meet again, (N/N)..." Megumi said. When you heard the call you chuckled. It was a call from megumi for you first.

"Hmm? What do we have here? You guys knew each other before?" The young Gojo comes out of the room where you guys are waiting, along with Yuji of course. You with teary eyes lunged at Yuu, hugged him and kissed his cheek.

"Yuu! You don't know how worried I was!" You started crying while hugging Yuu. He hugs you back. Megumi and Gojo find the two of you a little displeased.

You two... are too close to be called friends. "I'm fine (Y/N)! Did the creature hurt you?" He kissed your cheek back making the two people watching you bend their faces even more.

"You mean Sukuna? No! He didn't hurt me. But..." You remember when Sukuna held your face. It feels weird, like deja vu.

"Megumi, did you tell Sukuna's name to (Y/N)-chan?" Gojo asked, caught your attention and Yuji. "No... I didn't tell her." After Megumi said that, Gojo who had been sullen smirk widely. "Then I think, not only Yuji who will move to high jujutsu."

After that you and Yuji visited your senpais to say goodbye. gojo-sensei already spoke with your Papa that you're moving to jujutsu high.

Your papa is worried about you because all this time he has been trying to hide you from becoming a jujutsu wizard which is a dangerous job. But yeah, maybe it's about time.

At the end of the day you and Yuji visit Yuji's grandfather's grave to ask for blessings. Next will be fun right?

Right?

To be continued

Tags : @loaves4me @carminhadaavenidabrasil

A/N : hello everyone! thank you for all your excitement for my series! i'm working on the third chapter rn and i expecting this series would be 15 chapter? im still not sure, it can be change. but since i have other things to do in my life i would post the next chapter if i finish all of it till epilog. So, while you all waiting. Since i also read manhwa, playing hoyoverse games, and watching other anime, i'm gonna post short scenarios of those (mostly yandere tho hahahaha)

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leanteam43 · 2 months

Note

dating johnnie hc's? ily ❤️

"I Want Your Heart"

(Dating Johnnie Guilbert Headcannons)

summary : what it would be like 2 date johnnie guilbert <43

pronouns : they/them | GN!reader!

warnings : none

a/n's : i got a build a bear today and named him johnnie guilbert ^-^ - 🌿 | i like tara better - 🎸 | she jake on my johnnie til i yummy - 🐇 | johnnie johnnied all over - 🩰(john smith aka austriliaiaiaia's man)

you make this man NERVOUUUUS

first time you met this man, it was because of tara

thank miss tara yummy for your entire relationship

"y/n!! have you met my friend Johnnie?" "omg no i haven't! hi!!" "o.0"

stuttering, stammering, screaming internally

eventually you and him actually get to talking and hit it off really well

tbh it's mainly you yapping his ear off and him following along

"yeah so then i moved here from (location) and then i worked with tara for a bit but then-" *que him watching you with the biggest eyes*

when he finally gets comfortable enough, all you can do is laugh at every single one of his jokes

so naturally,

he makes it his mission to make you laugh at least once a day (an easy task tbh)

honestly a sweetheart :c

always worried about making you uncomfortable

"can i call" texts no matter how long you two have been together

"can i call?" "if you ask that one more time the answers gonna be no" "ok but can i"

doing his makeup one time and him claiming you have to do it from now on

bc "it just looks better!"

hugs !! from !! behind !!

popping into his streams with food and stuff :C

painting each others nails !!!1

yk the trend where it's like one matching nail, so like if he has all black nail polish one finger will be your fav color ykwim

constant jokes about him being passenger princess

"you seriously need to learn to drive" ">:c"

ppl think he follows jake around like a puppy at parties?

NO.

HE IS BASICALLY ATTACHED TO YOUR HIIIIIP AT PARTIES.

"where's y/n?" "y/n??"

he loves taking photos of you tbh

king of candids

bro holds your purse

okay im done - 🌿

#johnnie and jake #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert edit #johnnie guilbert x reader #jake and johnnie #jake webber x you #jake webber fluff #jake webber x reader #jake webber #tara yummy #tara yummy x reader

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trashogram · 3 months

Text

He Chose You (Pt. 3)

Lucifer/Reader - Lucifer decides that you are the perfect person to be his baby mama.

Rated E, but the smut has been delayed due to personal matters. I apologize! Still not for kiddos though.

“Hello there!”

Teeth.

This man in your apartment —

‘He was a duck. A fucking duck and now he’s a man. Oh my fucking god what the fucking fuck.’

— had shark teeth.

If you’d had better control of your faculties — if you were capable of doing anything more than staring airily with mouth agape — you would’ve screamed bloody murder.

Instead, you sat there, unable to move and quickly succumbing to a sensation you could only described as detachment.

His pointy smile gleamed despite the darkness. His whole person appeared to glow, in fact, giving you a clear view of his demonic approximation of a man in what could only be described as circus attire.

You stared.

There was silence. The expression on his face fell slowly, showman’s smile melting until it barely lingered on his pallid face.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to get loud, heh.” The man-creature adopted an inside voice. “Hello.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you. I mean we’ve met before, obviously, but it’s nice to be able to meet you as me a-and you as you!”

The blond cleared his throat. Enthusiasm in full force as he pulled a cane out of behind his back and spread his arms out wide.

“Allow me to introduce myself! I am Lucifer Morningstar! King of Hell… and I am at your service, my lady.”

Lucifer bowed until his strangely nose-less face just about touched the floor.

“… King of Hell…?” Your voice came out steadier than you thought it would. “You’re… Satan?”

“Ah-ha, ha, that’s a common misconception. Satan is actually a friend of mine!” Lucifer sprung up, pleased as punch to hear you finally speak. “People have called me a ton of different names; that’s what happens when you’ve been around for like, ever. It all gets jumbled and lost in translation. Like that game! Telephone!”

“Wait, no.” He snapped his fingers together a few times. “Is that…? No that’s not it. It’s, it’s, ah shit.”

“No, you’re right.” You replied mildly. ”It’s Telephone.”

Lucifer’s eyes lit up like firecrackers. He moved closer to you, step by step, while excitement squared his shoulders.

“So, are you taking me to hell now?” Your flippant question stopped him dead.

“Wait, what?” His shock snapped into nervous laughter.

Your eyes rolled up to the ceiling contemplatively. “I didn’t think I was special enough to be brought down by the Devil himself.”

“No! No, no, no, no, no!” Lucifer waved his arms frantically. “I’m not! You’re not! I would never!”

“I’m flattered. You didn’t have to come all this way, you know.”

“Hell is for sinners not — not for you!” The very real panic on his face was amusing to some part of your hindbrain as you stared back at him airily. “You’re - you don’t deserve to go to Hell. Ever!”

“… Why?”

Lucifer’s shoulders shook, eyes still bugging out of his skull before he took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Well, because! Because you-uuu are a good person. Good people go to…” He inhaled deeply and exhaled shakily. “H-heaven.”

You humored him with a smile, a kernel of pity lodged in your heart. It made sense that the Devil would hesitate before even naming Heaven.

“No,” You course-corrected gently. “Why are you here?”

“Oh! Okay, yeah that. Great question! Thank you for asking!” The man-thing cartoonishly wiped at his brow, a silent ‘phew’ following. “I just wanted to, um…”

Black gloves gesture wildly like Lucifer was fishing for words out of the air.

“Ahh, I guess? The short answer is that I just wanted to meet you.” He smiled sheepishly.

Your face felt numb, but you imagined that he could make out the want to raise your eyebrow questioningly from the blazé energy you were exuding.

“See, actually, I’ve been meaning to introduce myself for days. You were moving in and I saw you and I wanted to say hello because you looked… ”

Fang-like teeth bit into his lower lip as Lucifer eyes darted to your form. That sheepish look had morphed into a mortified one when he could no longer make eye contact with you.

“You looked like a ve-ery nice, helpful person and I thought to myself ‘gee, I don’t get to talk to a lot of nice, helpful people often — being as I am the ruler of Hell, and that’s not the nicest place around, right? Hah — so why not stop by and see if this person would be willing to talk to me?’”

The cane in his gloved hands tapped against one palm impatiently, a shiny red apple glinting at the top.

“Well, I, I mean that’s what I wanted to do when you first got here…” He trailed off with uncertainty.

“But I just… I just kept fucking it up!” Lucifer knocked a fist against his face as if to say ‘stupid! stupid!’. “Every time I come up to knock on your door, I start thinking about all the ways it could go wrong and then I’d start getting antsy and I didn’t wanna freak you out!”

The Devil raked a hand through his platinum-blond hair.

“I was just so afraid you’d run away screaming.” He sighed. “Which, while I thought that would be the worst case scenario, made a little more sense than right now with you taking this whole thing exceptionally well.”

“Hmm,” You hummed, turning his words over in your mind. “Well I can’t run away, but I’m definitely screaming internally, if that’s helpful?”

Lucifer had the nerve to pout at your deadpan statement.

“Maybe whatever you gave me at dinner caused a bad reaction?” You suggested.

“Oh no. Well, maybe. I mean — I didn’t give that stuff to you. This was their idea.”

A bit of feeling was returning to your nose, and you could feel it scrunch up in confusion. “Your friends wanted to drug me?”

“My frie — Hah! Oh no, sweetie those aren’t my friends! Well, I mean they’ve let me crash at their place when I’m up topside, but that’s all part of our little agreement.”

“Your agreement to-oo provide them with joy and laughter in their golden years as a pet duck?”

Lucifer guffawed loudly. “Oho! You are — that was funny! Hah, funny, kind, pretty, you’re the whole shebang aren’t ya?! — I knew picking you was the right move!”

‘Picking me?’ That got you to tilt your head with some effort, mouth opening to ask just that.

“Aha no, actually.” Lucifer cut you off. “That’s the other thing I was going to mention. I wasn’t gonna bring it up until a little while later, after we got to know each other.”

Before you knew it, Lucifer had scuttled to your side and was sitting on the edge of the couch beside you, propping up the side of his head on one arm against the back.

“Now’s as good a time as any.” You replied serenely. If you could shrug, you would’ve.

Lucifer frowned while patterns into the couch cushion. “I wish I knew why you’re so darn agreeable. I mean, I love it! Makes this so much easier. But it’s also a little… weird.”

You shifted to better face the Prince of Darkness, feeling a tingling sensation along one side. “I find it’s best to go with the flow during dreams. When I question things, they’re more likely to change into nightmares.”

“Wh… what?” Your companion flinched back like you’d smacked him in the face. “You think this is a dream?”

“What else could it be?” Came your nonchalant response. “It’s either that or a hallucination from the drugs. I wouldn’t know, I don’t usually partake. But I’m pretty sure I fell asleep after my neighbors brought me back to my room, so I’m leaning toward that.”

The devil remained silent, that earlier expression of mortification making a comeback, as well as a slow-growing horror that made the unusually red spots on his cheeks drain down to pink.

“No, no I’m not… I’m not a dream! This is real! I’m real!” Lucifer lurched forward suddenly, hands hovering centimeters from your lifeless arm.

He swallowed thickly, making a decision in real time to peel off his glove and reach out to you with alabaster fingers.

“See?” He asked softly, brushed against your shoulder down to your forearm with cautious claws.

The nerve endings in your body had been waking up throughout your conversation with Not-Satan, but felt unusually sharp as his nails grazed your flesh. Lucifer’s hand was smoother than smooth, and cold like a glass window in winter. It was as if he were made of porcelain, solid yet fragile.

And yet you felt a burgeoning warmth when he took hold of your hand. There was a faint heat coming from beneath his skin; a candle still burning somewhere beneath layers and layers of ice.

You shivered violently, body and mind syncing as you both rejected and sought that impossible sensation.

Lucifer, meanwhile, was staring at your hand in his, fingers entwined. He marveled at the image, hope blossoming from within, after an eternity of being grounded.

Just to touch you, to be near you and bask in your body heat and the presence of your soul did wonders.

“This is no dream. This is really happening.” He repeated softly.

———————— Tag List:

@crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch

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

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nycreid · 3 months

Text

Lover

spencer reid x popstar!reader

H/T means hometown

part 1

SPENCER IS STANDING IN THE VIP TENT next to many celebrities but as Y/N knows them, her best friends, Lily Rose-Depp, Gigi Hadid, and more. Spencer feels out of place, this isn’t his usual Saturday night, until he started dating Y/N. Spencer did get acquainted with her friends, they’re easy to talk to, this just isn’t his scene.

Spencer is dressed in concert merch, a pastel pink hoodie that reads ‘THE DAYLIGHTS TOUR’ and a pair of black trousers, again, something he usually doesn’t wear but for Y/N he would wear a garbage bag if it meant it would support her.

As Spencer waits for Y/N to come out and perform, he sees a fan trying to throw something into the tent. Spencer leans closer and sees it’s a bracelet- and it’s for him, he takes the colorful beaded bracelet from the girl and thanks her. The bracelet reads “KING OF HER HEART” in white beaded letters with pink and yellow beads surrounding them. Spencer smiles and blushes, knowing the bracelet is a reference to her song about him, “King Of My Heart” , Spencer slips on the bracelet proudly.

“Did you just get your first friendship bracelet?” A voice appeared next to him, it was Y/N’s mom. Her parents turned up to the concert as well, it was in her hometown, of course they weren’t going to miss it.

“Y-yeah I did.” Spencer nods nervously, he’s talked to her mom many times. Why is he so nervous?

“You’ll have a wrist full by the end of the night, it’s something you get used to.” Y/M/N chuckles and shows her wrist, she’s already accumulated at least 10 and the concert has barely started.

Spencer chuckles and hears cheers and screams before he can reply to Y/M/N and notices Y/N is rising onto the stage. The lights illuminate her glowing skin and make her eyes pop in the best way possible, the stage design doesn’t overpower her but make her stand out. Spencer is entranced and she’s barely been on stage for 30 seconds.

“WELCOME TO THE DAYLIGHT’S TOUR! It feels good to be back in my hometown!” Y/N giggles into the microphone, “To start off, I just want to say thank you for joining me today and taking time out of your day to attend.” Y/N smiles.

More cheers erupt as she speaks and you can see her grinning ear to ear, Spencer smiles as she speaks and is in love with how passionate she is about her music and her fans but he can’t help but feel hot and overstimulated by the humid weather and loud cheers.

“Now I have a question for you H/T, have you ever been in love?” Y/N alluding to her hit song, Lover (also written about Spencer). The backtrack to Lover starts playing and she brings out her guitar and the backup dancers and singers pool onto the stage.

Spencer blushes as her friends in the VIP tent tease Spencer and nudge him, ‘This is your song man!’, he even heard but he’s too out of it to notice someone said anything.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘til January and this is our place, we make the rules.” Y/N sings and strums on her guitar as she searches for a certain face in the crowd, before looking over in the VIP tent and seeing a familiar tall curly haired man. Y/N practically lightens up even more as she sees him, she maintains eye contact with him while singing his song. She’s basically singing it to him.

Spencer blushes as he keeps the eye contact, he feels his worries go away as she sings (basically to him). The fans singing along and the cheering tune out as he can only focus on her, he feels more calmer as he listens to her soothing voice. How did he get so lucky?

“Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand, I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover.” Y/N sings and very obviously points to him and casually goes back to strumming as if she didn’t turn Spencer into a pink blushing mess.

“You’re as pink as your hoodie, aww!” Gigi giggles and snaps a picture for Y/N to show later, Spencer chuckles and feels his heart grow for Y/N by the minute.

The rest of the concert goes by with long flirty glances by her, more eye contact, and Spencer recording half of it to put in his Y/N 💝 photo album. The concert finally ends and Spencer’s wrist has gained 15 brackets on each wrist and 20 more in the tote bag he brought for Y/N with her ‘after concert essentials’.

As the fans depart from the stadium, Spencer, her parents, and her closest friends go backstage to see her. Y/N runs backstage, not even taking out her microphone and earpiece, immediately running into Spencer’s arms.

“I missed you! Sorry, I’m kinda sweaty right now.” Y/N mutters into his chest with her arms wrapped tightly around him.

“It’s okay, honey. You were amazing up there! You took my breath away.” Spencer kisses the top of her head and rubs his hands on her back. Spencer is a germaphobe but he doesn’t pull away from her, he doesn’t mind her germs.

Her parents and her friends pull up in a golf cart later and she converses with them and pulls them into hugs as well.

“I think it’s time to call it a night!” Y/N sighs and says her goodbyes to her friends and parents. “See you guys tomorrow!” She’s performing one more day in her hometown.

“Ready to go?” Y/N takes her hand in Spencer’s, and he nods.

—

IN HER HOTEL SUITE, Spencer and Y/N are comfortably cuddling in bed after a fresh shower together and in pajamas and are on twitter looking over the videos after today. Y/N would be staying at her parents house since she’s in her hometown but her team suggested a hotel room so transport and makeup is faster and easier.

Y/N giggles, “Wait look at that tweet!” She clicks on it. The tweet reads ‘he is DOWN BAD but like i would be too…’ followed by a video of Spencer watching Y/N perform with a lovestruck smile.

Spencer chuckles a little embarrassed, “Like this is new news? Everybody knows I’m in love with you, Y/N L/N.” Spencer pecks a kiss onto your forehead.

Y/N blushes and playfully swats him away, “Oh stop it.” She bites her lip, trying to hide that painfully obvious smile.

“No matter how hard you try to hard your smile, your pink cheeks sell you out.” Spencer lightly pinches her cheek and laughs.

Spencer noticed Y/N rubbing the King Of Her Heart bracelet he got, “I promise to be delicate with your heart for as long as I live.” Y/N smiles and brushes a kiss against his cheek, “I know.” She says with certainty.

—

lmk what you guys think!! pls tell me other songs popstar!reader would make if u guys are getting tired of the taylor swift songs + references! and don’t be afraid to send asks 😉😜 AND TYSM FOR SO MUCH LOVE ON THE LAST POPSTAR!READER FIC

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #mgg fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fic recs #dr spencer reid #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x popstar!reader #Spotify

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barbieaemond · 2 months

Text

The King of Qarth II

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Qartheen f!reader (use of third perspective)

PART 1 | SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

Warnings: mentions of child sexual abuse, mentions of child bride, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, grinding, handjob, knife kink if you squint, self indulgent use of sorcery

Word count: 11k

Author's note: Aemond and the Salt Queen gets to know each other and do some good ol' bonding on shared trauma(s).

English is not my first language.

Taglist: @zae5 @arcielee @multyfangirl @zaldritzosrose @succnfuccubus @kckt88 @venmondiese @mariahossain @miraclealignertlsp369 @ilikechocolatemilkh @credulouskhaleesi @bunbunbl0gs @alphard-hydraes-blog @gemini-mama @freyaniobe @toodlesxcuddles @youngestxhearts @helen06dreamer

“Don’t run from me, kori” he screamed as she ran into the night “Please! Come here!”

He tried to chase her but her feet were faster, barely touching the ground as the nine-year-old girl ran away from the Palace of Dust.

She felt she could run forever, that she could not stop, not until she had forgotten what she had seen. What were those invocations? Why was that woman naked and screaming? Why was her father slaughtering animals on a stone altar and drinking their blood?

“Knowledge comes with a great cost.” was all Fydor repeated when the jarring rumors about what was being done in the House of the Undying reached her young ears and her mother, when the Shadow of the Evening had already stained her father's lips and fingernails blue for good.

“What does it mean, Father? What knowledge?”

“Any kind of knowledge, kori. Everything that was, that is. Everything that could be.”

But she did not want to know. Knowing had cost her her mother. She just wanted to run, but the black-barked trees with blue leaves seemed to envelop her like shadows in flesh, a labyrinth changing its thousand deceiving paths with every step she took.

For a moment she turned, her father was running after her but he was far. Until he wasn't.

She went crashing into him as the other Fydor continued to run behind her. He had done this before, all the Warlocks of Qarth did, appearing in several places at once.

White as a sheet, she watched her father lower himself toward her in that strange embroidered tunic like one who performs a ritual. Even in the darkness of that labyrinthine wood, the blue stood out on his lips and in the sclerae of his eyes.

“You don’t have to be afraid...but why? Why did you come here?”

“I heard the screams.” the little girl said with her lower lip trembling “When is Mother coming back?”

“She won’t, kori. It’s only you and me now.”

It was the first and only time she set foot in the Palace of Dust. Visits to her father were rare, although he longed to see her. Sometimes she could swear she could hear him talking in her head, telling her that the shadows protected her, that he protected her through them. Other times she would give in and invite him to the Palace of Salt, almost glad to see him but not quite.

There were always two opposite grooves in her lips when she looked at him. He was the man who avenged her and lost his tongue for it; he was the man who drove her mother to flee, abandoning their daughter.

She felt like that right now as she walked away, as she ran away from him, just like when she was nine. She could hear him echoing in her eardrums, as she left the courtyard with Prince Aemond, with the voice of the past, as if he had regrown his tongue.

“What did he say?”

“Trees wail…leaves are bleeding…” she hears, not the Prince speaking.

Aemond pulls her arm and feels her tensing at his touch, blinking at him as if she wasn’t there up until now. “What?”

“Your father. What did he say before we left?”

"Nothing of your concern.” She says lightly and resumes her walk. He stands still for a moment, sure, as he is sure of the noble blood in his veins, that whatever the warlock said through his hands, did concern him.

Unfortunately, he’s forced to set that thought aside as they leave the Palace; Aemond halts his stride, narrowing his eye at the strange wheelhouse waiting before him. A wheelhouse without wheels, and not even a carriage; more like a bed waiting to be moved, with veils and curtains on each of the four sides. A palanquin, he recalls the word from some book he read. This is how aristocracy moved in the East.

He turns his head as air shifts behind him, and a moment later he’s almost growling at one of the Sorrowful Men, bold enough to lay hands on him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The Salt Queen rolls her eyes and walks to him. “Leave it. I’ll deal with the Prince. He’s already accustomed to having my hands on him, am I right?” she says with a tight, luscious smile, and oddly enough, but perhaps not so much, he doesn’t flinch as she starts to search his blue silks for any weapon.

Her hand slips beneath the soft fabric, gliding on his bare skin, chest and ribs, and she stares at him deliberately, just like him. “Perhaps your Highness just couldn’t wait to get her hands on me again.” he retorts with the ghost of an obnoxious grin.

She says nothing, staring at him as she searches his waist and then through the blue folds underneath. “Ah.” she tuts at one point, slowly drawing his faithful dagger. “And here I thought you were just pleased to see me. You won’t need this.” she says, keeping the blade. “Unlike you, I don’t bite. Unless asked of course.”

He hears the stretch on the word asked and nods slowly, plastering a fake, chastened frown. “I see. My deepest apologies. I didn’t think I had to ask since you have been throwing yourself at me at every corner. Speaking of which, your husband seemed quite proud of your performance earlier at breakfast. Will you be rewarded for your noble services?”

She only blinks at his vitriolic remark, but there is not a trace of outrage on her face. “Someone might say it is not wise to insult someone, especially a woman, when she is armed.”

“Why, do you know how to use that?” he asks, lowering his gaze and tilting his chin to point at the blade.

“No, but how difficult could it be considering how little it takes me to get you to let your guard down? Just like any man, I might add.”

He has no time to bite back, annoyingly moving his jaw at being deemed an ordinary man who crumples at a woman’s touch, while she turns her back and moves the curtains aside to enter the palanquin.

Aemond follows and finds himself cursing internally as he tries to adjust inside that odd, restricted transport. He wouldn’t even call it that. It’s nothing but a mattress with soft cushions on it.

Were Qartheens accustomed to doing everything lying on those damn cushions?

He might just sit, but he is too tall, and the canopy of the litter is too low, greeting his head with a slight bump. The Queen stifles a smile, already settled on the cushions with her legs tucked under her, and she watches him sigh deeply, resigning himself with clear annoyance to lie down on the cushions, holding onto one elbow.

Aemond tries to look at ease, not bothered by the woman and how much she's close to him, as close as if they were to confide a secret to each other, and just as he thinks he has settled down, the Sorrowful Men are lifting the litter, and he is jolted forward, slightly on top of her.

She lifts her arm to hold him by the shoulder, and in that split second, Aemond ties his hand around her arm to keep his weight off her. She tenses, just as before, just as she did the night before in his room. To her misfortune, she is now the one who suffers from too much proximity, or rather, a total lack of space. She feels the long single braid dangling on her, tickling her chest. She can see the specks of blue in his iris, the small cleft on the tip of his nose, the way that vicious mouth flaunts a perfect shape.

If only she could actually read minds, she would know that that last thought mirrors in his head.

He shouldn't care, he shouldn't even linger on that thought. This woman has done nothing but trample on his pride, has done nothing but mocking and taunting, and she seems quite adamant on keeping doing so. But perhaps it's because her mouth is close now, and for once silent, slightly open; an offering hiding a thousand more. And he had not taken it. In the throes of rage and pleasure, he had not kissed her. And he wishes. He wishes to know. Would she taste sweet? Tart?

Would she taste like salt?

The thought slips to the back of his mind as she clears her throat and straightens up, forcing him to distance himself, although they are still uncomfortably close. With one hand she knocks twice against the canopy, and the Sorrowful Men start walking.

Aemond leans better on his elbow to curb the swaying of the litter, and sighs glancing at the woman beside him. “Never heard of horses in this part of the world?”

“Horses barely survive in the desert, ask any Dothraki. Besides, what you Westerners do with those poor beasts is barbaric.”

His eyebrow is raising, ready to rebut, but as he opens his mouth, she offers him a small plate full of dates and dried figs. He moves his hand to dismiss it, causing her to frown. “Do you ever eat?” she takes one fig between her fingers and bites. “You should try one. Perhaps it’d make you less…bitter all the time.”

He glares at her but in doing so, he stumbles upon her mouth and the saccharine juice pasting her lips. She reads this as if he is reconsidering, so she stretches the half-bitten fig, and given their closeness, it takes her little to bring it to his mouth.

Aemond tilts his head back to decline and sighs. "Do you always think about eating here?"

"God no, we have much more pleasant pastimes." she says, chewing the other half of the fruit. "Would you like to hear about some of them?"

Aemond is not looking at the woman, and yet he can feel her luscious smile like something vivid, prickling his skin. "I can imagine."

"Can you? It doesn't seem so."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, perhaps our intimate encounter misleads me, but...you seem that kind of man who fucks his wife only on all fours, to feel in power and all those manly excuses."

"I am not." he hisses.

"Really?” She tilts her head curiously and looks at him closely. “Ever let her be on top? Ever been tied up? Blindfolded?"

He looks away at that, scoffing. "So, it's either eat or fuck."

Aegon would have thrived here, he thinks dimly.

"Fine. What should we talk about then?"

"Why do we have to?"

"The war? I, for instance, think it's only your father's fault. He wanted a son, right? And he had three. People unfit to take a decision should not be allowed to rule, if you ask me. On the other hand, though, what your mother did upon his death—"

"Keep my mother out of your mouth."

She hears the threat in the hissing way the words come out of his mouth, so she hushes, and turns her head toward the bustle of the city blurred by the veils and curtains of the litter. “Silence it is.”

And silently, he thanks the Gods for a moment of peace, free of this constant enquiring and teasing. That same silence though, only makes him think of Alicent. Is she still in chains? Is she wondering about him day and night or did she choose to banish him from her mind as he banished her?

Perhaps now that he is in a rather civil city, he could send word to her? Let her know he’s alive and that he was…what was he doing here?

But even if he did know, he could not trust any of these people.

“What is exactly your husband’s plan now?”

“What do you think? You promised them dragon eggs. They won’t let you go until they have their little lizards to play with.”

Aemond scoffs, glancing distractedly beyond the curtains “Do you think you can fool me? Speaking of them as if you are not into it as well.”

“I am not. We may have different customs, but even here women are pawns in the hands of men. Men choose what we shall do, who we shall marry…how they shall fuck us.” He drags his eye back on her at this, watching her as she adds “But I have no interest in keeping you here, or having a creature spitting fire as a pet. I prefer cats, if you must know, or snakes.”

“I see. So, you just follow his orders? He tells you to fuck whoever is housed under your roof, and you obey?”

“I fuck who I wish to. And if you don’t want to taste how sharp your dagger is, you might want to stop addressing me as a whore.”

“Who you wish?”

“Yes.” She catches a glimpse of his eyebrow raising in a rather boastful way and looks away, huffing. “Quit it, dragon prince. You might be handsome, but it wasn’t that special.”

“Why? It was hard to tell in the midst of all that begging.”

“Because I don’t like to feel like I’m ten again.”

The smug expression on Aemond's face disappears as quickly as the Salt Queen speaks those words, wrinkling his forehead as he grasps their meaning. But she looks at him with a passive face, and she speaks of this person, herself, and yet another, with the distant tone with which one speaks of the dead.

“I was raped when I was ten. Bent over my small table while I was painting seashells.”

Aemond looks genuinely startled, and why wouldn’t he? He is not sure he can trust this woman’s word, but something in the back of his mind, namely the way she was tensing like steel as he took her from behind, tells him she’s speaking the truth. After all, it seems her tongue is made of nothing else.

“Don’t look at me like that.” she says “I’m not telling you to make you say you’re sorry. Everyone knows. There is no such thing as secrets here. It helps the trades, makes for more honest negotiations.”

The litter stalls as Aemond barely registers they must have reached the walls, but he doesn’t move, staring at the woman, cautiously, enquiringly, as something unfolding right before him.

“And what are we trading?”

She was starting to move to get out of the palanquin, but she halts at his question, raking his half-lying figure with her eyes, the long slender hands laced together on his abdomen, the little smooth portion of chest peeking from the blue silks. “It depends on what you are offering…”

They share a long earnest look, unwavering on both parts, until the curtains are moved. “Your Highness, we have reached the walls.”

The woman blinks and takes a light breath. “Let’s go, shall we? Before your lizard starts chewing the walls.”

She barely moves and he’s seizing her wrist, drawing her eyes back on him instantly. The Queen witnesses something new curling his features, cracking his mouth open and then shutting it back—a reluctance, almost a regret that does not settle well on that ever-so-strict face; it seems unwanted, rejected, and yet it keeps coming back, twitching his mouth twice. “Had I known…I would’ve behaved differently.” He says staring down, whereas she stares right down at him, at the grimace twisting his lips, as if tasting salt. “I know how it is…to feel—”

“Powerless?”

In more ways than one.

He doesn’t utter the words, but the way his eye pierces through her is nothing but a confession.

“You could have stopped me.”

“Yes, I could. That’s what troubles me.” She says in a hushed tone, and now she’s the one staring down, grimacing. “I didn’t want to.”

Being a dragonrider, one might think Aemond should be used to deal with strange creatures. And yet, his brow is furrowing steeply as soon as they’re out of the city walls. There are some men waiting for them, common men dressed in dark robes, acting as keepers for a four-legged animal that Aemond has never seen in his life. A camel.

The Salt Queen fakes a frown upon reading the confusion on his face and says “Surely you didn’t think we would walk in the desert.”

“Because it’s hot or because it goes against all the lying around you do here?”

She bursts into a short laugh, drawing his eye to her, and says “It seems you have found your humor. I’m glad. I like men who can make me laugh.”

It was not really his intention, rather a mere observation, but he says nothing, lingering for a moment on her lips curved up, before returning to look at the creature before him, slowly ruminating something as it stares at him with two dark, waning eyes.

“I don’t know how to ride this—thing.”

“Ah, it’s a bit tricky. You see,” she goes to stand right beside him, leaning against him so that he feels her bare shoulders against his arm, and as she gestures towards the camel, she says “You have to get on it and keep yourself balanced on the hump with one knee. Very dangerous, I must warn you. Most men die by merely trying.”

She turns to look at him with her lips cracking in amusement, but as she sees the earnest, not at all amused, face he’s wearing, she sighs deeply. “And it’s lost again.”

“It’s just a bit slower than a horse.” She explains taking a step away as one of the Sorrowful men hands her some blue fabric, like a scarf. Aemond sees her handing one to him and she speaks before he asks about it. “For your skin. To shield you from the sun if you don’t want to peel your face off because of burn blisters.”

He grabs the cloth, unfolding it between his hands as, out of the corner of his eye, he sees the Queen wrap her own around her head, leaving only a crevice for her eyes. He tries to mimic her gestures, but his braid gets stuck, so she walks to him raising her hands, and without a word she helps him, wrapping his head and face in blue.

“Come. Since it’s your first time, you’ll ride with me.”

Then, she moves towards the camel, while the armed men will follow on foot, dragging the cart of dead pigs and goats. With silent relief on his part, Aemond finds out that it seems even easier than riding a horse. At first.

The camel kneels on the sand on his four legs, and Salt Queen straddles it, sitting in the saddle. She swings each leg on both sides of the creature, her silks gliding like water, effectively baring her skin from the ankles to her thighs; she makes room for him, turning her head to beckon him to sit behind her and, inevitably, she sees him staring down at her bare legs. “So, you found something else to stare at other than my breast. Good.”

Aemond looks up and then away, moving to get this over with. He sits on the saddle, behind the woman, their bodies barely touching, at first. As she grabs the reins, she slightly turns her head saying “Follow my lead.”

She pulls at the reins and since camels stand up with their back legs first, Aemond is jolted forward, colliding against the Salt Queen who promptly instructs him. “Lean back…”

He does so, and she does too, resting her shoulders against his chest. “And now forward.” She adds when the animal gets onto its front legs. Aemond lurches forward, and having no handhold, he grips her left side not to crash his body on her.

“Pigaí.” She says in Qartheen and, slowly, the camel starts walking. Aemond briefly looks behind, watching the Sorrowful Men move accordingly, four of them dragging a wooden cart full of carcasses, but soon he finds himself too occupied with keeping balance to spare a glance behind.

A camel’s walk is nothing like the gait of a horse. It’s odd, irregular, jerky; it keeps jolting him backward and then forward, each time forcing him to bump against her back, to hold onto her, sometimes her arm, sometimes her hip, her thigh even, like a toddler who's just learning to walk.

Hearing his short and clearly annoyed sighs, the Queen smiles behind the tajel, keeping her gaze fixed on the dunes at the horizon, and softly shakes her head. “Always so rigid…”

“What” he asks without even intoning the question, because the camel and this hiccup-like swinging is getting on his nerves, not to mention the heat, sticking the silks on him, or the woman's body which, for all the right reasons but rather inconvenient under the circumstances, is making his blood flow down too fast.

“You are too rigid.” She says, slightly raising her tone. “You have nothing to prove to this poor beast, or me.”

She takes his hand that he held like an iron clamp on her side and turns her head a little, enough to catch his eye. "Let yourself sway, don't fight it."

Keeping his eye on her, his grip lessens, just as all the stiffness in his body. She feels him sway, brushing naturally against her without tensing every time their bodies touched. And yet her throat stiffens as he keeps swinging against her, and she’s glad she’s giving her back and wearing a tajel, so he cannot see her lips parting as air hitches in her mouth.

The camel’s hooves avoid human and animal remains in what is nothing but a Garden of Bones; the sun is scorching, the air so humid, heavy, it feels like cotton when swallowing. But fortunately for them, she is not late to come into view amid those white dunes.

"By all the Gods..." The Queen cries out in disbelief, widening her eyes as she sees a huge black spot in the middle of the yellowish-white desert; a mountain, of flesh and fire.

The camel must sense her agitation, or perhaps he’s wise enough to know what he is up against. He starts to flail, to paw, and the Queen is forced to pull on the reins, unbalanced back and forth. Aemond holds her by the arms with his eye strained on Vhagar, but the quadruped seems to have no intention of staying there a minute longer.

He screeches to the point that both Aemond and the Queen are thrown from the saddle, landing on the sand, one on top of the other. The camel flees, despite one of the Sorrowful Men attempts to catch him.

That little cackle, however, awakens the dragon, or perhaps she simply sensed her rider. Vhagar raises her huge head from the cat-like crouched position she was in, her amber eyes wide as well as her giant wings. Aemond is barely in time to stand and help the woman do the same when the earth beneath them shakes as if in an earthquake.

The Queen of Salt whitens like a sheet as she sees that terrifying beast advancing from a distance, a distance that drastically runs out because each stride of the dragon covers miles.

She freezes on the spot, her mouth wide open, because the dragon keeps advancing, and for a moment she seriously thinks she is breathing the last breaths of her life.

Aemond shields her with his body, and Vhagar stops, opening her mouth wide and roaring so loudly that the queen has to cover her ears. Even Aemond scrunches his face under the scorching gust that sweeps over him, so scorching that the glimmer of flames ignites at the back of her jaws. She's not happy to see him. Or rather, she's not happy about being abandoned to starve in the desert, even for one day. Ageing makes even beasts more irritable.

“Lykirī, Vhagar!” the Prince shouts “Lykirī!”

But she does not listen, not immediately at least. She continues to roar, intent on voicing her disappointment. Then, finally, she closes her jaws. The Queen looks at her with wide eyes, her chest rising and falling quickly, her hands laced firmly around Aemond's arms. Vhagar lowers her head toward him, still showing her fangs, and flares her nostrils, smelling something, someone, foreign.

“What is she doing?” the Queen asks in a whisper.

“Hush.”

She tilts her head back, looking at him from behind and still whispering, says “Need I remind you my father is a warlock? If your dragon eats me, I will come back to haunt you.”

He doesn’t bother to retort, even more so because Vhagar makes a sudden movement, turning her head sharply as her nostrils smell what she has been craving for too long. Aemond follows her gaze, barely having the time to register the Sorrowful Men on the right, at a good distance but not far enough for a starving dragon.

“Get away from there!” the Prince warns them “Move!”

As soon as that last word leaves his mouth, Vhagar moves with impressive speed, given her size and age, but hunger quickens her limbs. Her head sinks on the cart as the armed men scurry away without logic, raising a cloud of dust and sand as her fangs pierce wood, flesh and bone.

She perches on the sand to enjoy her much-needed meal, which disappears by the second under the gaze of Aemond and the Salt Queen, still pale as a sheet and stunned by what she's witnessing, flinching every time she hears jaws snapping and bones cracking.

“Where are you going?” she asks as Aemond tries to take one step.

He turns, glancing at her hand gripping his arm, and looks at her for a moment before raising his eyebrow “Scared, are we?”

She gives him a flat look as if he has just informed her that the sky is blue. “Self-awareness is not cowardice.”

Aemond moves, circling the beast, and the woman dims it wisely to never leave his side, keeping a constant eye on the beast, unaware she’s still gripping his arm as she moves. The Prince stops somewhere near Vhagar’s left wing and the Queen watches as he seems to inspect it closely. Out of curiosity, she does the same, spotting a large wound toward the right end, healed but not quite. Aemond places one hand on the scales but as soon as he does that, Vhagar turns her head sharply, blood coating her jaws and fangs, and growls, clearly still annoyed with him or maybe just unhappy to be bothered during her meal.

“She’s just like you, isn’t she?” the Queen remarks “Sour and petty.”

Aemond ignores her, taking a step back, momentarily resigning not to tend to his dragon, as long as she’s in that mood. “Perhaps you could stop gripping me so hard now.” he says at one point, feeling the Queen’s nails digging through the silk.

She looks lost for a moment, and then withdraws her hand, looking away. She finds though that all she can look at is Vhagar, her giant dimension blocks her view entirely.

“How did you manage to tame such a monster?” she asks at some point, eyes full of dread, and yet wonder.

“She is not a monster.”

“No, of course not. She’s as sweet as a kitten.”

She observes the beast, her green and bronze scales, battered in several spots and frowns. “Correct me if I’m wrong, and I rarely am, did not dragons take decades to grow? She seems very old and you...” pausing, her eyes scan him from head to toe “you don’t look older than twenty-five?”

Aemond keeps his gaze fixed on Vhagar as he answers, that empty egg made of nothing but stone lost somewhere in the back of his mind. "My egg didn’t hatch. I claimed her when I was ten.”

"Ten?” she asks, disbelief and awe running together on her tongue.

He turns his head and tilts his chin down, and then up, as only pride can do. "Ten.”

She looks at him, not able to hide a righteous gleam of admiration, but then she’s crinkling her forehead, in that peculiar way of hers.

"Was it worth it?” she asks, upon acknowledging that new piece.

"What?”

"The exchange. Was it fair? Your eye for a dragon.”

Do not mourn me, Mother. His mouth twitches as he remembers, almost relives it. It has been years and yet, he can almost feel the right side of his head numbed with too much pain, the stench of his own dead flesh. The needle going in and out but not actually stitching anything back together.

“How did it happen?” she asks, and her tone is different now. That constant veil of mocking in the way she phrases her questions is nowhere to be found.

“Do you want me to believe you don’t know yet?”

"I told you twice. I cannot control this…power, it comes and goes. I must admit though, it is coming quite often in the last few days…I wonder why…”

Aemond looks at her, sees her search on him a mystery to which he has no answers in the first place. He learned this from Alys.

Magic repels answers, it must live and thrive on mystery.

On chaos, you mean.

And what’s the difference? That’s what you really yearn for. Chaos.

He sighs to cast her out, and says “My nephew took it with a knife.”

"And you killed him. This is why they call you Kinslayer, is it not?”

She cannot see his expression behind the tajel, only his good eye, still, cold and unwavering, like a star, and beautiful in the most cruel way.

"We may have shared blood but he meant nothing to me. And he got what he deserved.” he said, trying a flat empty tone, but she hears the edges quivering, crumpling, like salt eroding rocks.

"And what about that boy? Did he get what he deserved?”

"What boy?”

"The ten year old you.” His eye seems to glow with new light at her words, like the sun catching the flashing steel of a blade, and even with the blue scarf hiding his face, she knows his teeth are grinding. "I was never one for revenge.” She concedes, turning her head to the desert. "It may be the sweetest morsel, but somehow it never leaves you sated.”

"It sounds like you have tasted it.”

"Yes.” She admits, turning to look at him. "But it’s stuck in my throat.”

Aemond doesn’t need to ask, because as she said, there are no secrets in Qarth.

"You must have wondered why my father cannot speak.” she tells him, looking away, dredging up from her mind, from her memories, traces of a child who is no more. “There’s an ancient tradition here, when a wedding takes place. It’s called the sacred exchange. The bride and the groom can ask each other for one favor, anything, and they cannot refuse.” She returns her gaze to him, and says “My husband asked for my father’s tongue as my sacred gift.”

“Was it him?”

"No, not him…the night before our wedding, Irryo, Xavos’ brother, came into my room to give me his wedding gift. The purest silk I’ve ever seen. He made me wear it, stripped me bare with his own hands…said he wanted to see how I looked...”

She doesn’t need to utter the words. Aemond sees a little girl, a child, painting seashells, unfinished, falling from the table in a clatter of tinkles and choked cries.

"The wedding took place in a hurry an hour later. I said my vows with my silks still stained with blood. They were scared of my father’s wrath, you see. But it came anyway. Irryo died during the wedding feast. His eyes burst into his skull.”

“Your father’s doing.”

“Perhaps." she shrugs "I didn’t know what to make of it at the time, as I don’t know what to make of it now. I didn’t ask him to avenge me. All I wanted was for him, anyone, to say they were sorry for what had been done to me.”

Did he not want the same?

Apart from punishment, and then revenge, did he not want just one word of kindness from his father? Some sort of regret from Lucerys?

She feels his eye on her, even if he’s not really looking at her, perhaps at some ghosts locked in his mind, so she glances at Vhagar, quite contented after her meals and currently resting on the sand. “We should go back to the Palace before it gets too hot out here. I will give orders to save more dead beasts for your dragon.”

The journey back to the walls is a silent one. It spreads, silence, like an oil stain as they climb back onto the litter; each of them has caught something of the other, something similar, different cracks etched with the same cruelty, and matching.

Their gazes match, as they remove the tajel from their heads, as she hands him some water. She looks around distractedly, but the curtains are closed and even if they weren’t, the sound of water rushing down his throat brings her eyes on him, and then closely, she watches his tongue flicking outside for a moment, she watches a drop of water running down his chin. And wishes to lick it off with her tongue.

Somehow, it’s like he can hear what she’s thinking, locking his eye on her. They don’t speak, it’s almost as if both of them are waiting for something.

"Your braid needs to be redone." She says at one point, and he turns, not looking at her face, not at first. She sees his eye trailing slowly over her until he speaks.

"Is that your offering?"

Closely, she rakes her eyes on his chiseled features, and she is not even aware she is imperceptibly leaning closer. A moth to a flame, they say. But she has always been the flame. And now, she finds she’s the one willing to bathe in the light, or burn.

“If you wish."

It comes out like a whisper, drawing his eye on her lips, unearthing that same desire from earlier, the thirst to know what she tastes like. "What If I wish for something more?"

“Such as?" she asks, raising one hand to touch his braid and undo it, smoothly, as if she had done this countless times before.

"Don't be shy now. Everything is a trade in Qarth. Even pleasure."

Swiftly, he clamps his hand around her wrist, stopping her, drawing a slight wince beneath her skin.

"Pleasure is not something to be traded.” He says, and it’s the flame now that is moving. “Only taken."

The short intake of air she breathes on his mouth is a seal. His lips meet hers abruptly, they part instantly and ravenously, like a starved man tasting a morsel, and then loosening to taste it, to taste her. Perhaps it’s desert, perhaps it’s herself, but she does taste like salt. She’s bitter on his tongue, in his nostrils; she muffles his ears until he hears only her sweet sighing in his mouth as he slips his tongue inside.

And he wants more of that, just as she wants more. He feels her unfolding beneath him as he towers over her, so differently from the previous night. She’s not tense. She’s loose like water, he feels her seeping in everywhere, around his neck and shoulders, in his mouth when her tongue darts in, in his blood when she softly rubs against him. His breathing becomes heavy, from lack of air, from hardening, and maybe he shouldn't, maybe this isn't really the right place. They could wait until they get back to the palace, but then she lies back on the pillows and reclines her head, offering her neck. Without thinking, he lowers himself down on her, in fact lying on her, and she instantly makes room for him by spreading her legs wide.

She gasps softly as he trails wet kisses on her neck, growing greedy as he travels down, to what he’s been secretly coveting since the first time he unapologetically landed his sight on.

Cupping her bare breast with his large hand, he holds it firmly, humming pleasurably as he takes the hard nipple into his mouth. Accordingly, she bucks her hips against him, feeling his hardening tease her center through that thin layer of silk. Between that and the swirling of his tongue, hot and wet around her nipple, she is panting, spreading her legs wide to cage his hips and push him against her, desperate for more friction.

Despite his ache for the same and more, he glances up, still torturing her nipple, hard and slick at this point, watching her as he grazes his teeth over that darker spot of skin, forcing a choked, loud whimper to escape her mouth.

“Careful, your Highness” he teases “lest you want to give your peasants a show.”

“What do you think these curtains are for?”

“You want me to fuck you here? Now?” he asks with a playful scorn in his voice, but she can hear his breath creaking, his tone lower and throatily.

She raises from the cushions, holding on one hand while the other slips between them, hovering on his groin, brushing feathery. “I believe you want to.” She breathes on his lips, parting as soon as he rocks his waist to catch her palm.

“We could wait to be in the Palace but…” she takes his hand and brings it between her legs, on that thin layer of silk, damp again his knuckles. “Would you be so cruel and leave me like this, for so long?”

He swallows something close to a growl upon feeling how wet she is for him, how her cheeks are barely flushed as she exhales heavily, her face scrunched lustfully for the little, shallow pleasure she finds from his fingertips.

Curtains or no curtains, Aemond is deaf and blind to anything else around him. With his fingers, he moves the fabric and twists his wrist, so that his palm is straight against her pulsing core. She sighs hoarsely as her wetness coats his hand, arching just as slightly, goading him to do more. She has been watching and coveting his fingers once too many times, the thought alone of having them inside her crumples her face in a pleading way, and she has no shame in voicing it. “Please, Aemond…”

Upon hearing his name, spoken in that exotic and alluring way, he bares his teeth and harshly slips not one, but two of his slender fingers inside, watching her tilt her head back, her mouth open and out of breath, but she’s looking at him and she’s quick to regain air, barely curving her lips up. “So you do know how to use your hands…”

“You never shut up, do you?”

“Well, make me.”

His cock twitches on its own at her words, and he kisses her, roughly, flexing his hand to start pumping his fingers in. She moans loudly on his tongue, lacing an arm around his neck, still holding herself onto the cushions with her other hand, angling her back so he can reach that special spot more easily.

“Oh God—yes---” she moans when he does, rocking her hips to meet his deft fingers in a sweet lewd sound that muffles any other coming from the fuss outside that litter. Her breath grows short and labored, mewling obscenely every time he curls his fingers, his gaze on her fixed and focused like on some holy mission.

He desperately wants to bury himself inside her, right there; he’s almost thankful for the much more loose clothes they wear here instead of the constricting breeches he was used to, even though he feels his flesh on fire, and he’s practically panting on her pleasure; his own is of no concern to him right now, not when she’s so close, not when he can watch a little more of her face distorting with wanton abandon, her neck lumped with sweat, the way her breast swings with her motions.

But she, on the other hand, seems eager to end this torture, and start another. The tensed muscle in her arm gives away, making her back fall on the cushions once more, but the other is still tied around his neck, so she drags him down with her and then she’s rummaging through the blue silks, eager to free his length, but he grips her wrist and holds it firmly above her head. “No…I have a score to settle with you.”

“What? You proved quite enough you know how to use your hands.” She says breathlessly, cracking half a smile “I swear on all the Gods, yours and mine, I won’t doubt you again.”

Aemond is just about to retort but suddenly the palanquin stops, and they are abruptly brought back to the reality just outside those curtains. They hear a male voice and he looks enquiringly at the Salt Queen who visibly rolls her eyes and says something in Qartheen which, given her tone, Aemond is sure is some kind of curse.

She fumbles with her thin gowns, covering her nudity while he takes some distance, returning to lean on one elbow with once more clear annoyance, this time much more justified. And once more, he’s thankful for the loose silks, able to hide his otherwise plain arousal.

The Queen sighs deeply, to keep herself together, to stop the ringing in her ears and the aching stir below her navel; then she opens the curtains and smiles warmly. “Syradhor! I thought I recognized your voice.”

The man in yellow silks, with several sapphires embroidered in the fabric and worn on his fingers, bows for a moment saying, “Your Highness.” He takes her hand that she promptly offers and lightly kisses her knuckles, trailing his eyes on her with two eyes blind with admiration. “Any man who finds himself in the presence of such beauty can count himself as the luckiest in the world. What a blessing for me to be granted such fortune once more.”

Aemond is staring at the man, unimpressed, doing all he can not to scoff at the love sonnet-like speech, and a rather dull one. “Prince Aemond. A pleasure to see you again.”

Aemond recalls the man as one of the Merchant Kings who greeted him at the walls two days prior, but his face is all he remembers. “Which one is this?” he deadpans to the Salt Queen, evidently not happy to have been interrupted. She hears the annoyance in his voice and stifles a smile saying “This is Syradhor, the Ore King.”

The Prince barely tilts his chin down to greet him and the man in yellow takes a step forward, addressing the Queen. “Your Highness, since you are here, I am gladly extending my invitation to you as well.”

“Extending?” she asks.

“I—Yes, I was expecting Prince Aemond today, to formally receive him in my Palace.”

“Were you?” he drawls.

The honeyed benevolence leaves the man's face like a summer storm, because that's the way he is, as eager to please as he is quick to anger. “What is meaning of this? Did Xavos not inform you?”

“Of course.” Of course not, is what she means to say. But before she can utter another word, Aemond speaks. “Well, I’m afraid we have to delay this formal reception.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Syradhor.” The Queen steps in “you must understand, the Prince is new to our customs. He’s not aware of our welcoming traditions. As it happens, that was precisely what the Prince and I were discussing before you interrupted us.”

“Were we?” he says lifting his eyebrow.

She flashes daggers at him and continues with a broad smile. “I told him not to delay his visit to your Palace, for if ever a foreigner refused to visit one of the Thirteen—" she looks directly at Aemond, informing him at that very moment. “It would be considered the highest of insults.”

Aemond looks at her, unblinking, before sighing deeply, and deciding to play along. “Yes, I do recall now. Her Highness was quite vocal on the matter.”

She keeps smiling, for reasons entirely different from what the Ore King might think, and then he raises one hand towards the crowded street. “Please. My Palace is just around the corner.”

Aemond comes out of the litter, being careful to let the silks fall over all the right places.

“I hope you have a good time, my Prince.”

He whirls his head watching the Salt Queen stay still on the cushions and the Ore King looks just as stunned. “Will you not delight my Palace with your presence?”

“I am afraid I can’t, Syrhador. I was just asking the Prince for advice on some urgent matters I desperately need to attend to.” She pointedly looks at Aemond with a ghosting smile and then she shrugs, lightheartedly. “I suppose I shall take those urgent matters into my own hands.”

Her words and what they mean, stir something within him, more annoyance at the mere thought of wasting time with this little man —his shoulder reaches just above Aemond’s ribs— when he could be fucking her senseless on that litter, on his bed, hers, he’s not picky at this point. And more giddiness, making his blood boil at mere thought of her chasing her pleasure with her own hands.

But then she’s shutting him out, shutting the curtains, and ordering her men to move.

The sky is of a delicious pink-red shade when he returns to the Palace of Salt.

Four hours, that was the torment he had to endure in the presence of Syradhor and his family. Four hours in which he barely opened his mouth, and when he did, all that came out were monosyllables uttered from time to time in a manner closer and closer to snarling.

The Ore King had embarked on a soliloquy about alum, a precious mineral useful as mordant for dyeing wool, embalming animals and human bodies, and making wood fireproof. It would’ve been interesting for a former scholar as Aemond was, but it was difficult to think straight amid the chattering, duck-like squawking of Syradhor’s daughters, and even more difficult when he had brought the cup of wine to his mouth and sensed her intimate sweet-tart smell stuck on his fingers, awakening all the wrong thoughts.

In the end, he was so sick of the whole affair that he had curtly refused to be escorted to the palace of Xavos on another litter, and the Ore King had sent four of his guards to walk with him, along the streets of Qarth.

His spirits when he crosses the threshold of the Palace of Salt are at an all-time low. If only he didn't have to face another litter trip lying on cushions after spending four hours sitting on those same fucking cushions, he'd go straight to Vhagar. He's always been a solitary creature, just like her, and all these talks and pleasantries, fake or true, were like pouring a barrel of water into a narrow vase. He was toppling over.

Surprisingly though, as soon as he sets foot in his chambers, his foul spirits seem to instantly improve as he finds his room lit with candles, and not at all empty. The Salt Queen is sitting comfortably in an armchair, with her legs dangling graciously over the left armrest; a little book is clutched in her hold.

“My Prince.” She greets him as he lingers on the door, lifting her gaze from her reading.

Aemond closes the door, never tearing his gaze off her. It betrays nothing, only the faint irritation for the four hours wasted, but not the way his lungs swell upon seeing her.

“Did your Grace have fun?” she asks with sheer curiosity, closing the book with a light thud.

“Fun?” he repeats, as if she had just suggested she had proof unicorns from Skagos were real.

“Surely it was not that bad? I mean, yes, Syradhor is boring and yes, he has that annoying habit of touching you as he talks, but he has a great collection of wines. I should have told you. There’s no other way to survive him.”

“He has a litter of daughters” Aemond sneers, walking to her “each of them duller than the other.”

“Well, that happens when you fuck your relatives. You, above all, should know that.”

He looks at her questioningly and she leans forward to place the book on a little table, the soft fabric of her lilac gowns slips on her skin just as his eye slips on her bare thighs, glowing as gold under the candlelight. “His wife is his niece.” She says, looking up and catching his staring.

His eye trails slowly over her until locking her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“You forgot this.” She says, raising her hand with his dagger held between her fingers.

Aemond stops before her, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at her “You were waiting for me, to give me back my dagger?”

She takes a good amount of time, while looking at him, feeling his eye, darkened due to the dim light and boring into her, to utter a simple “No."

“Then why?”

She rises, handing the blade, and says “I believe we had a score to settle.”

Aemond takes the blade from her hands, nodding slowly, and then circles her to go sit where she was a moment ago, placing the blade on the armrest, along with his hands. “And what was it?” he asks with a faint smirk. If she’s keen on playing games, he will let her play this one. “Somehow, it’s eluding me now.”

She watches him cross his long legs, tilting his head as he awaits, and she says “Your braid needs to be redone.”

“Hmm.” Aemond looks around, almost amused, and sees his bed, not exactly in order as it was when he left, but slightly crumpled.

Did she lie on his bed? Did she touch herself and peak, writhing on his sheets? The thought alone tickles his spine, but still, he betrays nothing, only the faint tapping of his fingers against the armrest. “You’ve been here all this time to give me back my dagger and redo my hair.”

She watches his fingers moving and she’s moving. She would like to take his hand and pick up where they left off, but she just sits on his lap, forcing him to uncross his legs, and spread them a little to make her room. “I deeply cherish my guests and their welfare under my roof.” She jests, although it’s partially true.

The only difference is that she never spent hours waiting for one of her guests, or any man, nor fantasizing about all the ways that man could take her, not as fervently as she did as her hand moved relentlessly between her legs, finding but a mere flicker of the pleasure he had just started to spill from her.

“And did you…” his tone is coarse, so he pauses to swallow. He hates that his voice is coming out so low, he hates that this woman can reduce him like this in a matter of minutes, that his cock is already stirring. “Did you eventually take that urgent matter into your own hands?”

She takes a long lock of silver hair between her fingers, running them through it while she quietly answers

“Twice.”

“Here?”

“Yes.” She looks at him, while her fingers start to work on that lock, making a little braid using only one hand. “Disappointing.”

“The room or your hands?”

“Oh, the room was quite fine.” she lets the little braid rest among the other locks and trails her fingers on his chest, and a moment later underneath the silk, like tentacles. “I only wished I had your hands inside me.”

Her touch licks flames on his skin, on his chest, collarbone, and neck; she touches him with intent, as if she wishes to know what he is made of. “You could have come with me.”

“I didn’t lie, I had some matters to attend to. Besides, coming with you would have left us in quite a situation.” She reasons with diplomacy, not making a blink as her other tentacle slides over his stomach, disappearing underneath. “Sneaking around the Ore Palace to find a place to fuck.”

Aemond exhales heavily as she takes hold of him, parting his lips as she palms him thoroughly.

“Did you think of that while you were with those pretty girls?” she asks, watching his eyelid flicker “I know they’re pretty. Dumb, but pretty.”

He has no idea who she’s talking about. He rests his head against the armchair and opens his mouth as her ministrations grow cadenced and yet unbearably slow.

“Did you think of me?” she asks, softly panting along with him for the mere sight “of taking me in some hidden corner? Of putting your hands on me if I had been there?”

His nails dig into the armrest, around his dagger, until his knuckles go white. Truth is that he did. Sipping that cup of wine, the smell of her on his fingers only made him think of her, and how she would squirm if he touched her right there, under the table. How she would bite her lower lip to swallow her moans as she came all over his fingers.

“I did.” She admits with almost religious honesty. “I came twice thinking of your hands.”

Not a moment later, they are both growling with need as he slams his mouth on hers in a mess of tongues and teeth, and then she gasps, because his hand is on her core, moving already, gathering her wetness and spreading it. “Did you think of this? Hmm?” he croons, watching her closely, rejoicing upon seeing her face scrunching just as it did earlier, wantonly, pleading.

“No…” she mumbles.

“What do you mean no?”

Her hand slips behind his neck, in order to keep his head firm and his face glued to hers. “Inside…” she cooes urgently “I need them inside.”

It’s almost shameful for a proud man like him, how swiftly he obeys, but even if he didn’t want to, she’s so wet for him, dripping and coating his palm, that his fingers would’ve eventually slipped inside.

He sticks them all the way in, flexing and curling, hitting that spot and spilling a loud moan from her, who instantly sinks her hips down, rocking to goad him to start moving. He grants her this other little mercy, pumping nimbly with a squelching sound, going rock hard as she arches on top of him, keeping one hand clamped around his neck and the other on his knee, to find the right angle.

“There you go…” he rasps, watching his fingers disappear inside, feeling her spongy walls hot and squeezing “’Tis what you wanted?”

She is too occupied with trying to catch a puff of air to be bothered to answer, but he wants one. He stops altogether, winning a whine of protest and a flashing glare before her face wrinkles with desperate need.

“Not talking now?” he mocks and then swiftly, he is curling his fingers in a cruel way, drawing a choked whimper out of her throat.

“Yes. Yes, it is what I wanted.”

“Hmm. Go on, then. Take it.” And he spreads his legs a little more to give her room “Fuck my hand.”

Exhaling a small breath of air, she talks almost to herself. “A woman must do everything these days.”

“You won’t be saying that later.”

“Why, what happens later?”

“I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk.”

“That sounds a bit pretentious.”

“And you should have learned by now not to doubt my word.”

And doubt him she won’t, not now. She starts to move, swaying her hips and arching her neck as soon as pleasure washes over her. She would like to savor it, to take this slow, as she likes it, but her low muscles are so tensed and aching; she feels the peak near and can't do anything but run towards.

Aemond watches with labored breath as she rocks and grinds on him desperately, growing frantic by the moment, feeling her arousal down to his wrist, dampening his own silks, spilling a faint unbearable pleasure from the way her flesh grinds against his cock. And he finds himself moaning out of pleasure and pain as she draws near to her peak, gripping his neck hard, pulling at the roots of his hair while emitting a string of short and sharp cries next his ear, until she’s trembling all over, coming with a free and loud moan on his hand.

She tries to regain some air, panting in his ear as she rides the last throes. This, this is what she’s been fantasizing, even dreamed of it. No man has ever made her feel like this, a pulsing heart pounding in every inch of her body, a living flame bathing in fire.

Slowly, she tilts her head back and he takes his hand off her hot, pulsing flesh. She looks down, at her pleasure wrinkling his fingertips, and then up, straight into his turbid eye. He brings his fingers to his mouth to clean them, to taste her, but she snatches his wrist and, staring at him, she engulfs his index with her lips.

He’s tempted to look away, and not wonder how her perfect lips would close around his cock, but he keeps watching as she keeps tasting herself, on his middle finger, and then the ring one.

“How do you taste?”

“Me? Oh, this is not me.” She draws close until she nudges her nose against his and says “Pleasure tastes like the ones we desire.” She kisses him, slowly, darting her tongue in his mouth until he’s humming, tasting bittersweet. “This is your doing.”

A moment later she gasps, holding onto his shoulders because he rises abruptly, lacing his arms around her to hold her and take those few steps that separate them from his bed.

They fall on the soft mattress and her hands fly to his silks, willing to tear them apart until he’s bare. And he helps her, moving his lean shoulders to let the slippery fabric fall. She had thought Qartheen silks suited him perfectly, but now she thinks she’d rather have him like this all day. Her eyes roam freely on his lean body, dented in a few spots by burns and scars of war, a soldier’s body and yet not burly: he’s all refined and graceful, like a sculpture. It makes her mouth go dry, pushing her eyes down, on the thin waist and the prominent v-shape of his muscles.

Willfully, she grasps the soft belt cinching his waist, but he stops her wrists.

“Do you know what this is?” he asks with short breath, and the candles around catch the flashing steel of his dagger, held in his left hand.

“Valyrian steel?”

“The sharpest blade in the world.” and deftly, he twirls it.

It catches her eye for a moment, but then she drags her gaze back on him, relaxing on the sheets with an ounce of challenge in her eyes. “You will have to show me.”

Something wild bursts in his eye, wide and piercing. “Are you offering?”

She cracks a half heated, half cunning smile and says “I’m demanding.”

Aemond lies beside her, holding himself up on one elbow, and with bated breath, she watches his other arm move, bringing the dagger, and its pointy end, to the lilac woven shielding her torso. Slowly and cautiously, he slips the steel under a stripe of silk, locking his eye on her as she startles from the coldness of the blade. He flicks his wrist up, and the steel cuts the silk instantly and smoothly. But he doesn’t stop there, dragging the blade down, cutting all, unraveling her body, and not missing the way her stomach jolts, her breath hitches, and not out of fear.

He trails his eye all over her body, glowing under the candles, lingering on the soft patch of hair below her navel; his mouth goes dry and his mind blank. He lets the blade go and drifts down, grabs her legs and forces them open, hardening impossibly more upon seeing her previous peak still coating her cunt in a glistening veil.

She sees him hovering right on her center, anticipation quickens her breath but perhaps also a faint reluctance for what he’s about to do. She would complain about it with Dora, saying most of her lovers just sat there lapping at it like some thirsty dog in the desert. Once, she had even opened a book while having a man’s head between her thighs.

It is therefore with great shock that she abruptly gasps, out loud, when he slams his mouth on her cunt, raising his eye to watch her. She tastes sweeter than he’d expected, and he’s not one for sweet tastes, but this one, he wants it all.

His tongue swirls up and down her folds, circling slowly, making her back arch, her jaw slack open. “Oh God—” she moans once, and twice, unconsciously pushing her hips against his face, feeling the sharp bone of his nose nudging her bundle.

“If you have to sing my praises, then do it properly.” he rasps against her flesh, stopping, but not quite. He brings one hand on her apex, circling it with his thumb, torturing but not as she wants. “Please—” she begs freely, writhing beneath him.

“Please what?” he teases, licking his lips “You like to talk, don’t you? Then use your words.” He presses his thumb deeper and faster, and she whines, in pleasure and protest. “Please—with your tongue”

“Please…?”

“Aemond—”

“Again.”

He has half a mind to make her say his name until she loses her voice, but at the second time she utters it, her vowels even more open given her debauchery, he caves and grips her thighs harshly to keep them as spread open as he can. What happens next is a string of cries and choked moans as his tongue licks and sucks and pierces inside; he eats her thoroughly humming with sheer delight and occasionally groaning as, without being able to avoid it, he grinds against the mattress to gain some relief.

Pleasure coils in her belly as it never did before. She’d never been able to reach her peak like this, whether the occasional man was not that good at that practice or maybe because she’d never longed for anyone as she longs for the Prince. She’s not able to control her voice as she comes straight into his mouth, she’s not able to control her muscles shaking all over, nor her hand, flying into his hair, pulling and pushing him against her as she practically rides his face in the last spasms.

She lies there for a moment, ears numb and heart pounding like a hammer, but she has little time to come to her senses; he moves, leaning on top of her, mouth and chin slick. It makes her strangely proud to see it. This time, her hands are free to roam, discarding the last silks until he’s completely bare. Aemond slips between her legs, hissing at feeling her moist flesh against his. He cannot wait any longer, as he moves to angle her hips and bury himself inside her, she grabs his face, forcing him to look up.

“Show me.”

It takes him barely a moment to get what she means. He freezes on the spot, and looks down with a grimace.

“You saw mine.” She says sofly. And it’s true. Even if he didn’t know, he saw, he touched, her wound.

And maybe it’s because he did, and he knows it to be true that this time there’s no reluctance, or rejection choking down his words. “I am sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter, you couldn’t—”

“No. Not about last night.”

All I wanted was for him, anyone, to say they were sorry for what had been done to me.

Air hitches in her throat as she stares at him with wide eyes. He has that unwavering stone-like look on his face and she knows he means it. No second purpose could ever force his tongue into saying that, because he doesn’t have any. He had her already, and he would have her again, whether he had spoken those words or not. But he means it. He chooses all his words too carefully to waste them on lies.

All she knows now, is that she wants him. A foreign, fierce willing like the one that possessed her the night before, urging her to stay right where she was, to goad him to take her harder, instead of begging him to stop.

She grips his neck and surges to kiss him, moaning with liberation into his mouth, swallowing his soft growl as her hand slips between them, grabbing him and guiding him against her entrance. He pushes in ever so easily, and she throws her head back on the sheets, gasping at the stretch while he rests his forehead on her chest, struggling to breathe as he buries himself inside her.

The bushes pierce through his feet, bleeding on the ground, a pain he is well accustomed.

One must walk barefoot in the Wood of Shadows.

The long blue robe rustles in the wind; it is loud in his ears, wailing, as it does nowhere else.

He stops next to a black barked tree and leans his ear against it. Glancing up, a mantle of dark leaves wave in the sky, bleeding blue.

He hurries up, resuming his path. His right hand trembles incessantly as it always does next to it. Fortunately, he holds the little vial in his other hand, safe.

The Palace of Dust is covered in dark, not even a torch lighting the way. They say there are no walls or ceilings there. They say there is no such thing as time in the House of the Undying.

He opens one door and enters a round room, clothed in dark, except for one, faint white light coming from a hole in the ground. A water well, translucent; soft waves curl the surface, rippled by no trace of wind.

There is only one man standing in the light, looking into the water. The others are scattered around the room.

“Is he Seeing?” asks the man with the trembling hand.

“Hush. Did you bring it?” answers another, coming into view under the faint white light.

“Here.” He hands over the vial. “I’ve never seen so much of it. Leaves are bleeding as we speak. It’s like an awakening.”

“It is awakening.” says the other, his eyes barely visible under the cloak.

“But why?”

He receives a long scornful look. “You are weak. That is why you’re reduced like that.” the other says, glancing at his hand “You cannot bear it.”

“We are awakening.” Says another voice from somewhere “We awaken in the presence of the most ancient and powerful magic.”

“Fire?” tries the trembling man.

The one with the vial turns his head, nodding. “And blood.”

He walks to the man standing before the well. He is looking into the translucent water. He doesn’t blink. Seems like he’s not even breathing. But there’s a strange curve on his blue lips, hardly visible. Almost a smile, a fond one.

“Fydor.”

Only then, the man blinks and turns his head.

“Freshly collected.” the other lifts his arm, showing the little vial. Under the well’s light, the liquid shines with a vivid blue.

The mute warlock takes it and swiftly lifts the cap. The other hurries to take a step back, while the one with the trembling hand widens his eyes with almost dread. His fingers start to shake maniacally, as he watches the man in the light drinking the Shadow.

All the others, at once, seem to emit a choked snarling sound, as thirsty men in the desert upon seeing a pool of water.

The empty vial falls to the floor, breaking in little pieces, the water in the well moves as rippled by an opposite wind, and Fydor makes a choking sound; his eyes rolls over like in a seizure, and then they stop.

The pupil is gone, all is left is the white, but it is not white, not anymore. Too much Shadow of the Evening. His lips, nails and white of his eyes are blue for good.

At times, it lasts for hours. Others, it’s barely a minute. But there’s no time in the House of the Undying.

When it ends, it could be morning outside, they do not know, and they do not care.

“Fydor?” the same one asks when the warlock’s pupils are back in their place.

The man looks at him for a moment, and then starts moving his hands jerkily. “It is time.”

“Time for what?”

“Time to act.”

“What about your daughter?”

For a moment, Fydor looks into the well. “Kori is on her own path now. I cannot interfere. She won’t let me. But seeds must be sown.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Keeping his blue eyes on the water, transfixed, he moves his hands. “What do you do with an old forest so new trees can grow?”

“Burn it.”

The man with the trembling hand looks between the two, warily. “What does it mean?”

Fydor turns, slowly, a shadow falling on his face. “It is quite simple, acolyte. For there to be order, there must be chaos first.”

thank you so much for reading!! 💕💕

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animusrox · 1 year

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LETTERBOXD

1. The Batman 2. Everything Everywhere All at Once 3. Prey 4. Triangle of Sadness 5. Barbarian 6. The Northman 7. Bodies Bodies Bodies 8. The Banshees of Inisherin 9. Bones and All 10. Avatar: The Way of Water

Grade A

11. Turning Red 12. The Menu 13. Babylon 14. Hit the Road 15. Cow 16. Watcher 17. Funny Pages 18. Mad God 19. On the Count of Three 20. Armageddon Time 21. Terrifier 2 22. Marcel the Shell with Shoes On 23. Smile 24. Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery 25. Holy Spider 26. Aftersun 27. The Fabelmans 28. Breaking 29. Decision to Leave 30. The Whale 31. All Quiet on the Western Front 32. Brian and Charles 33. Piggy 34. Saint Omer 35. Thirteen Lives 36. Men 37. The Fallout 38. Resurrection 39. Causeway 40. The Black Phone 41. Official Competition 42. Nope 43. Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio 44. Apollo 10½: A Space Age Childhood 45. Till 46. TÁR 47. Happening 48. A Love Song 49. The Outfit 50. The Innocents 51. Jackass Forever 52. BARDO, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths 53. Montana Story 54. Three Thousand Years of Longing 55. You Won’t Be Alone 56. The Sadness 57. Halloween Ends 58. Pearl 59. X 60. Vesper

Click "Keep Reading” For My Full List

Grade B

61. This Place Rules 62. Fresh 63. Windfall 64. Kimi 65. No Exit 66. Top Gun: Maverick 67. “Sr.” 68. Farha 69. The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent 70. Weird: The Al Yankovic Story 71. Nitram 72. Speak No Evil 73. Run Sweetheart Run 74. She Said 75. White Noise 76. Puss in Boots: The Last Wish 77. V/H/S/99 78. The Wonder 79. Women Talking 80. Hatching 81. Soft & Quiet 82. Scream 83. To Leslie 84. Hustle 85. Chip ’n Dale: Rescue Rangers 86. Dual 87. God’s Country 88. Emancipation 89. Vengeance 90. Fire of Love 91. Bullet Train 92. Incantation 93. The Valet 94. Hellraiser 95. Christmas Bloody Christmas 96. Significant Other 97. Cha Cha Real Smooth 98. Lucy and Desi 99. Not Okay 100. A Christmas Story Christmas 101. Blonde 102. Deadstream 103. Sissy

Grade C

104. The Bad Guys 105. The Cursed 106. Empire of Light 107. A Man Called Otto 108. Broker 109. Black Panther: Wakanda Forever 110. The Princess 111. Beast 112. After Yang 113. RRR 114. Fall 115. Jackass 4.5 116. Beavis and Butt-Head Do the Universe 117. Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness 118. Jennifer Lopez: Halftime 119. Lightyear 120. The Pale Blue Eye 121. The Woman King 122. Violent Night 123. God’s Creatures 124. Ambulance 125. Elvis 126. You Are Not My Mother 127. Emily the Criminal 128. Crimes of the Future 129. The Apology 130. The Lost City 131. Wendell & Wild 132. Trainwreck: Woodstock ’99 133. The Found Footage Phenomenon 134. See How They Run 135. Spiderhead 136. Studio 666 137. Bros 138. Spin Me Round 139. We’re All Going to the World’s Fair 140. Paws of Fury: The Legend of Hank 141. Honor Society

Grade D

142. Thor: Love and Thunder 143. Summering 144. Strange World 145. Glorious 146. The Gray Man 147. Devotion 148. Clerks III 149. The Forgiven 150. Enola Holmes 2 151. Father Stu 152. Jurassic World Dominion 153. DC League of Super-Pets 154. She Will 155. The Bob’s Burgers Movie 156. Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance with Somebody 157. Hellbender 158. Samaritan 159. Day Shift 160. Sonic the Hedgehog 2 161. Prey for the Devil 162. Troll 163. Uncharted 164. Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile 165. Dashcam 166. Firestarter 167. Do Revenge 168. Catwoman: Hunted 169. The Munsters 170. Amsterdam 171. Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore

Grade F

172. Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris 173. The Bubble 174. Dead for a Dollar 175. Jerry & Marge Go Large 176. Honk for Jesus. Save Your Soul. 177. Infinite Storm 178. Marry Me 179. Don’t Worry Darling 180. Spirited 181. Disney's Pinocchio 182. Alice 183. Black Adam 184. Orphan: First Kill 185. The Adam Project 186. The Invitation 187. Texas Chainsaw Massacre 188. Ticket to Paradise 189. The 355 190. Umma

Bottom 10

191. Green Lantern: Beware My Power 192. Deep Water 193. Where the Crawdads Sing 194. Blacklight 195. Mack & Rita 196. Memory 197. Me Time 198. Death on the Nile 199. Morbius 200. Moonfall

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devildomcuties · 12 days

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Obey Me: A Gift for You [Dateables]

🕷 pairing: diavolo, barbatos, simeon, solomon x f. reader

🕷 summary: You’re gifted a pair of panties from your boyfriend, so you wear them for him.

🕷 wc: 2.9k

🕷 warnings: pet names (baby, babe, love), mentions of MC being queen (I like the idea so oh well), oral sex (f. giving and receiving), masturbation, fingering (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, mention of horns for dia and barbatos, upskirt, marking (hickeys, biting), quickie at RAD, the heels stay on, choking, creampie, cum eating

🕷 a/n: this is strictly 18+ content as links lead to adult content!

🕷 date: May 1, 2024

Diavolo

Diavolo looked for any excuse to get out of doing paperwork alone in his office. It seemed that Barbatos was ready to stop him and redirect him to his office any time he tried.

The only time he had to himself was at night when he was winding down for bed. Even so, Barbatos would check on him after his bath to assure the Demon Lord would stay put.

Sometimes Diavolo felt like a prisoner in his castle but he knew it was for his safety now that the Demon King was still in his slumber.

Diavolo sat in bed with his back resting on his headboard. Barbatos had retired for the night and Dia read one of the manga Levi had insisted he read. He was just getting to the climax when your familiar sparkle lit up his bedroom.

“Diavolo!” You grin as you kick your heels off your feet and head for his bed. You strip your top and skirt before climbing in beside him. “I missed you so much.”

“Ah, my future queen, I have missed you as well,” Diavolo smiles sweetly as he kisses your cheek. “It’s always a pleasure when you come around.”

“I wanted to see you in your office but Barbatos wouldn’t let me in,” you pout as you straddle the Demon Lord. “He said I would distract you.”

“Barbatos was correct in his assumption,” Diavolo chuckles as he grabs your hips. “I would have laid you on my desk and eaten that pretty cunt of yours until all the demons in the land heard you scream my name.”

Diavolo doesn’t give you a chance to respond before his lips meet yours. His hand grips the back of your head as the kiss deepens.

You moan, grinding on his cock. Your tiny black and gold panties don’t stand a chance, already soaked and ruined.

Dia groans, mouthing at your neck. He sucks his mark that you’ll proudly flaunt in RAD until it fades and another appears in its place. Nobody would dare tell the future king it was inappropriate to mark the future queen as he saw fit, and even if their jealousy consumed them, Diavolo’s wrath was too much to face straight on.

Even Barbatos would keep his mouth shut.

You gasp when your back meets the soft comforter. Diavolo's eyes sparkle with mischief as he kisses his way down your body. His plush lips leave feather-light kisses on your heated skin, making you moan when his teeth scrape your hip.

“Diavolo,” his name spills from your lips easily as his teeth take a tiny strap off your hip. He pulls on it and then does the same to the other side as you raise your hips when he bites the material in the middle to drag it down your thighs.

You spread your legs for him and he wets his lips as he throws your panties on his bedroom floor, forgotten. He palms his cock as you place your hand between your legs, a finger dipping into your arousal before rubbing your clit.

Diavolo watches you hungrily before he grabs your hips and tugs you toward him. His tongue meets your cunt, a low growl escaping him.

He curses, unable to control himself as he shifts. You giggle as his horns appear and your hand weaves in his hair, fingertips brushing a thick horn.

“Don’t go starting something you can’t finish,” he warns as he meets your gaze between your pretty thighs. You smirk, arching into him as you tug his hair to guide him back to your soaking wet cunt. Diavolo licks and sucks on your clit while you moan his name, head thrashing on the pillow as your legs lock behind his neck.

Diavolo grinds his hips into the mattress in need of some sort of stimulation, cursing when he gets too close as you cum on his talented tongue.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me,” he demands as his fingers slide into you. You moan as you dig your nails into his arm, your other hand buried in his thick tresses.

“Diavolo!” His name is a sweet cry for all to hear as your legs tremble at his side. Pleasure consumes you, drowns you, destroys you, and all Diavolo does is smile.

Barbatos

Barbatos enjoyed having a floor entirely to himself. He kept it quite tidy and it gave him privacy once the Young Master headed to bed.

“Snooping?” Barbatos' voice startles you. You nearly fall off the ladder you’re on, hand wrapped around a small bottle filled with tea. The perfect penmanship on the label reads Sparkle Tea.

“I wasn’t!” You protest immediately as you set the jar down in its rightful spot.

Barbatos hums but saves his lecture for another time. It was only natural that he would stoke your curiosity after mentioning the wall of teas he had for you.

Besides, on his way to help you down safely from the ladder, he’d gotten a clear look under your skirt.

“I see you’ve gone for an indecent look today,” Barbatos states as your cheeks flush with heat. You ignore him as you take a step then another as his gloved hand rests on your lower back to guide you.

“Is it indecent when you’re the one who gave these panties to me?” You ask as you take his hand to lead him to his bedroom for some privacy.

Once in his room, you take off his gloves and lead him to his bed. You kick your shoes off before climbing in, tugging him with you by his shirt.

In his bed with you is the only time Barbatos can relax. He doesn’t have to be as proper as he is with everyone else and it’s a privilege to see him so relaxed as you straddle him. His hands plant themselves on your hips as you tug on the buttons of his shirt to rip it open.

“Sweetheart, you surely seem eager this evening,” Barbatos smirks as you kiss his neck, biting when he chuckles at you.

Barbatos sighs happily as he feels your lips press kisses on every bit of his exposed chest. Every kiss comes with a soft, I love you. It makes his heart happy to hear you say it over and over.

Sharp nails cut through your skirt shortly after, making you gasp. Barbatos chuckles as he tosses the useless clothing to the side before tearing through your top and bra.

You don’t have a chance to react before he sits up. His hand grabs the back of your head to pull you closer. His gaze locks on yours, your noses brush before he kisses you.

Your hands settle on his shoulders, moaning when he tugs you flush against him. His free hand moves to your ass, squeezing it before chuckling darkly.

Your hand moves between your bodies, fingers dipping into your cunt, biting back a moan when you rub your clit for a few seconds before unbuttoning Barbatos’ pants and tugging down the zipper.

Barbatos eyes you hungrily as you take his cock out, stroking him with your wet hand. He moans your name softly, hips rising off the bed to thrust in your hand.

You kiss him as you line his cock up at your entrance and take it.

“Fuck!” Barbatos exclaims as he weaves his fingers in your hair before kissing you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours.

You ride him slowly at first, hands clutching his torn-up shirt. He’s so thick and long, he fills you deliciously and it makes your eyes roll back as you bounce on his dick.

You’re sure your panties are ruined but Barbatos seems pretty pleased with himself for getting them crotchless. It was hard to undress completely when you were both so desperate for each other.

There’s not a lot of free time during the day for Barbatos while he waits hand and foot for the Young Master but with the collection of panties he’s got for you, perhaps a quickie here and there won’t be too much of a distraction.

“Barb,” you gasp when he falls back onto the bed, holding your hips tightly before he anchors his feet to the mattress and thrusts upward.

Your tits jiggle as he bounces you on his cock, cursing your name as you rub your clit and cry out for him. Barbatos licks his lips, tugging you down to him so he can kiss you.

Your hand reaches for his horns and he growls, holding your hips down as he cums, stuffing you full just as you fall apart. You whimper, your orgasm washing over you unexpectedly.

Your thighs tremble, soreness hitting you as you slowly ride him through your orgasm. Barbatos holds you close, not caring that his pants are a mess.

It takes a few minutes for you to separate. Barbatos lies you in his bed as he gets a bath for the two of you. He holds you close as he takes his time washing your body and you whisper I love you.

Simeon

Silence filled Purgatory Hall. Simeon used the time to read, and write, and now he was drying his hair after a long, hot shower.

He wasn’t expecting to see you on his bed wearing one of his shirts.

“Hi, baby. What are you up to?” Simeon asks as he places his towel on the back of his desk chair. The towel wrapped around his waist makes your mouth water.

“You’d know if you answered your D.D.D. but I called you to let you know I was coming over,” you explain as you pat the spot beside you.

Simeon sits down on the edge of the bed. He grabs his D.D.D. and scrolls to the messages he��s missed from you.

[Baby💖] Hey, can I come over? [Baby💖] Babe? [Baby💖] Are you at PH? [Baby💖] I wanted to show you something 😘 [IMAGE] [Baby💖] I’m coming over, Simmie 😘

Simeon looks at the photo, eyes immediately filled with lust before he discards the device on the nightstand.

“You’re wearing them right now?” Simeon asks with a raised brow.

You scoot back on the bed, lifting your shirt and spreading your legs. Simeon eyes the white panties he gifted you, and his face flushes red. They look even better on you than he imagined.

“Beautiful,” he whispers as he gets on his knees to crawl toward you.

You giggle when he grabs your ankles and tugs you toward him. He kisses his way up your legs, placing them on his bare shoulders.

His hands grip your hips as you sit up on your elbows to watch him. He kisses one side and then the other before he kisses the middle.

“Simeon,” you sigh happily as he rolls you over onto your stomach. He gently moves the panties to the side before he kisses your wet cunt. His tongue teases you, lewd noises escaping the two of you.

With one hand he tugs the towel off his body, stroking his cock in his hand as he continues to eat you out. He slurps, licking his lips before he slides two fingers into you.

Simeon groans when you clench around him. He curls his fingers, pumping them in and out to draw the sweetest sounds from you.

It doesn’t take much longer for him to make you cum for him. After all these years, he’s finely tuned with your body, recognizing the signs of your impending orgasm enough to send you over the edge.

Simeon licks his fingers clean before he grabs his dick and strokes it. He bites back a moan as you arch your back, begging him to fuck you.

“So needy tonight,” he chuckles as his hands grab handfuls of your ass.

“Simeon!” You whine when he smacks your ass before you beg him to fuck you.

Simeon smiles as he grabs his cock in his hand, moving your panties aside as he runs the head on your cunt. You’re dripping wet, soaking his cock generously as he continues his actions. You huff his name, frustrated and needy.

“Alright,” he laughs. “I get it.”

Without another word, he slides home. He curses and then looks up to ask for forgiveness. You don’t notice as you fuck yourself on his dick while he’s momentarily distracted.

Simeon takes over, fucking you deep. You moan, biting the sheets to muffle your cries of pleasure. Simeon fucks you hard and fast, his hands grabbing every inch of your body within reach.

Your name escapes him as he turns you on your side and raises your leg. You hold his hand, turning your head to kiss him while he fucks you slower, grinding his hips as you suck on his bottom lip.

You moan into the kiss, your legs shaking as you cum wrapped around Simeon. He praises you, fucking you through it before he slides out.

He moves you onto your back as he settles between your legs with his cock in his hand. He bites his lip as he strokes himself, your panties soaked through.

Simeon moans your name, his eyes fluttering shut as he cums on your panties, right in the middle.

He pants as he locks eyes with you, leaning down to kiss you.

“Wait till I show you the next pair,” he grins as he kisses you again.

Solomon

Solomon was still getting used to Purgatory Hall. He had forgotten his book, gotten lost, and was now running late to meet you for your study date. He hoped you could forgive him for his tardiness. Perhaps he could make it up to you later on by baking you those cookies you like so much.

After five minutes of apologies from Solomon, the two of you got to study.

You would dedicate an hour for your course and an hour for his before heading to HoL for dinner.

Solomon had offered to walk you home, so you allowed him to carry your backpack as you wandered the nearly empty halls of RAD.

A few students walked around the building as they headed home and you led Solomon down an empty hallway. He followed you bewildered as you checked to make sure the hall was clear before lifting your skirt.

Solomon cursed as he spotted the black lacy panties he bought for you. They looked better than he could have imagined.

Without another word, Solomon takes your hand and leads you inside the first empty classroom he spots. He shuts the door quietly before pressing your chest to it. You catch yourself on your hands, giggling.

“Sol!” You gasp when he grabs your skirt and hikes it up. His other hand grabs your ass, squeezing it as he admires your body.

“We should have gone home first,” Solomon muses as he traces the waistband of your panties.

“No time,” you grin as he rips the crotch of the panties open and drops to his knees. Your knees buckle, your high heels making you stumble forward as you grab the doorknob to steady yourself.

Solomon smirks as he kisses your thighs, spreading your legs further before his tongue licks up your wet cunt.

You moan softly, hoping RAD is clear to avoid getting a lecture from Lucifer or worse, Barbatos.

Solomon works you into an orgasm soon after, making you bite the palm of your hand to keep quiet as he fucks you open with his fingers. He smiles to himself as you moan his name pathetically when he sinks his teeth into your ass cheek.

“Such a shame,” Solomon whispers as he looks at the tattered pieces of your panties. “They were so pretty.”

“Solomon, baby please,” you beg as you arch your back further. Solomon laughs gently as he undoes the button of his pants followed by the zipper.

“So needy for this dick, huh? Couldn’t wait until I got you into bed and fucked you in ways you’ve only dreamed of before?” His words make your body tingle as he wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing the sides when you don’t answer him.

“Y-yes,” you stutter as you meet his heated gaze. “I want you.”

Solomon kisses you, his tongue meeting yours as he slides home. The stretch is delicious. It makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“That’s it, baby,” Solomon grunts, shaking his hair out of his eyes as he looks down. You meet each of his thrusts.

Solomon laces his fingers with yours as you rest it on the door, with nowhere to hold onto it. You want more, you say so and Solomon rewards you. His lips find your shoulder and then your neck as he kisses and bites your skin.

Solomon bends you further, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it as your thighs tremble and your heels make you teeter. Pleasure consumes you, burning your body from the inside out as you orgasm.

“Fuck, love,” Solomon grits his teeth as you soak him. Your little escape from this room will have to turn into a quick pop to his instead. He can’t risk anyone catching the two of you after hours at RAD.

A few more thrusts have Solomon cumming deep inside. He moans your name into your neck, kissing you after.

The two of you fix your clothing and Solomon pops you into his bedroom.

He lays you on the bed, climbing in with you before settling between your legs.

“Mind if I clean you up?” Solomon asks with sparkling eyes and a smile that makes your heart flip.

“Sure, Solomon,” you nod, as you lie back and spread your legs further. Solomon licks his lips as he grabs your legs and tugs you toward him.

You giggle when you get pulled to him. He kisses your cunt, gently teasing you with his tongue before he dives in.

©devildomcuties - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms.

#obey me imagines #obey me x f. reader #obey me fanfiction #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #obey me diavolo x f. reader #obey me barbatos x f. reader #obey me simeon x f. reader #obey me solomon x f. reader

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circeyoru · 2 months

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Unwanted Soul _ Part 10 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9 — Part 10 (here)

You’re sure it didn’t take a second after Alastor heard the introduction to immediately grab Kat with his many black tendrils that appeared under Kat’s feet. Her high-pitch screams made you cover your ears and and squeeze your eyes shut. At your discomfort, Alastor had a tendril wrapped around her mouth

You watched while Alastor had that raging murderous smile on his face while his eyes turned back. He threw Kat from building to building, never letting go and giving her a moment to recover. You timed a good 10 minutes before you placed a hand on Alastor’s arm to snap him out of his rage

It was considerate of him to not personally deal with her because you were still near and you two were out in the open so anything could happen. Normally, he would have torn her limb from limb and chomped down on her flesh like a piece of meat. Now this was a new method of torture

At your touch, Alastor’s head snapped to you. You pointed to a spot on the side of your head and told him Kat was marked by Vox’s servant symbol, meaning the contract she was mentioning had been one with Vox. Alastor’s grin widened even more and gave one final throw into the ground, creating a crater before releasing her from his hold

Kat gasped and groaned, trying to get up but fell back down. Slowly, she crawled her way out of the crater and ended up at your feet. You watched her with distain and pity. You honestly can’t understand why she’d take Vox’s deal, she was taken advantage of, possibility due to her having just arrived in Hell at the time and didn’t know the importance of a soul contract

“How dare you die…” Kat hissed, his hands clenched to fists. “You have no idea what I went through after that f**king stunt you pulled!”

“I’m assuming you meant you stealing My Darling’s work as your own?” Alastor glared sharply at Kat.

Kat laughed, “Hahahahaha! What kind of lies did you feed him?” She pointed a finger at you, “This f**ker let me! The b*tch was happy to write for me! I take the credit cause you don’t want the attention, remember?”

Your eyes narrowed. That’s what you told yourself all those time. You told yourself it was fine because you didn’t like all this publicity and attention. Yet the fact that you felt anger towards it meant you didn’t want to give your work to another. At least not when all this was given to someone like her

Honestly, how can she blame her later misfortune on your death? She was your best friend, shouldn’t she feel something about it? Anything? Even the slighty sadness before all this?

You gripped onto Alastor’s hand, feeling a headache and dizziness growing. You whispered that you wanted to go home

Alastor understood and with a final slap at the poor excuse of a friend across the face with his end of the cane, Alastor brought you two back to your shared room. Alastor asked if you needed anything but you merely said you needed some time alone

“If you require anything, Love. Just call me.”

“...”

Back at the crater, before Kat could recover from the blow or curse. She was swiftly pinned to the ground by the neck, a situation that was all too familiar. Sharp blade like needles stabbed into her hands and knees. Dread filled every fiber of her body as she tried to get out of the hold she’s under but her body was frozen in fear

Just like before

“Aww, The Dear Writer left so quickly… What a thoughtful bodyguard too. Nothing less will be fitting for the Dear.” The new figure cooed, their shoes applied more force on Kat’s neck, grinding her into the ground. “Don’t you agree, Faker?”

“How did you find me?” Kat shivered against the hold. “Ce— Ahhhhh!”

“Ah ah~ I think it’s only right that I have a new name down here, I’m Nemesis now.” The demon chuckled, “Not hard considering your new boss is quite infamous around the city. What with all the technology he sells, you appearing on TV was just an easy guess. Though my services aren’t required when you have this.”

Kat screamed when a sharp blade pierced into the place where Vox’s contract mark was implanted.

Nemesis’ lips curved into a twisted smile as they continued to slowly torture the screaming female. “So where can I find the Dear Writer?”

“Hazbin… Hotel…”

“Many thanks.” Nemesis’ tail pulled out the blades without warning one by one, their ear flickering at the screams while they pulled out their phone. They grinned, pressing on something, “I think you were in the spotlight of fame a bit too long down here. Let’s return you to the nothing you are.”

Over the past few days, you’ve been working non-stop making all those TVs and speakers that you promised Vox. While doing so, you tried not using your pages and used your quill to write in the air like Lucifer suggested, it took some time since the mechanism was more complex than what you tried before. Though it offer as good exercise for you

Smoothly, you somehow managed to slowly not use your quill as well and changed to using your finger to scribble words in the air before flicking at it to summon your written object. That took way more energy that you can manage because the word required energy then the conjuration required even more energy

But you managed because you needed something to distract yourself from the recent train of events and emotional burn out

Alastor’s been trying to get you to pause in your work and relax. You ignore it all together and continued, even when Alastor pulled you away and into his arms, you were motionless and repeated told him to let go so you could work. All he could do was continue to provide you with meals and reminders to rest since you were practicing and needed energy to continue

At least that got you to pull away from work. The light in your eyes was soft and dimmed, but it was better than when you were first on the verge of breaking down like a broken doll

Like before, Charlie and the others asked about you from Alastor when he was cooking your meals. It was like the time when you first arrived in the hotel, that was when you were doing it of your own volitation with Alastor as your excuse. Now, it was because you were helping the hotel and got unwanted attention

When all of Vox’s devices were being ddelivered by Charlie, Vaggie, and Husk with a hypnotic resistance charm casted on them by you, you covered yourself in a blanket and drowned yourself in music

You were exhausted physically and mentally, you wanted to push yourself even more but you knew Alastor would be against it all the way and you don’t want to push him to do forceful thing just to make you see reason. You know Alastor would feel worse than you do because of his love and devotion towards you

At the thought of that, you feel even worse that you were treating Alastor do badly. Even worse, he’s seeing this pathetic side of you. What if he leaves you? What if he thinks you’re not worth it? What if—

A familiar rhythemic knocking on your door brought you out of your thoughts. Alastor’s muffle voice came through, “Beloved.” That nickname that melted your worries and comforted you, “I think there’s someone you should meet.”

You wondered who Alastor would just let into your room, even the hotel members didn’t get that luxury and that includes Niffty because Alastor handles the maintainance of your room all on his own. You trust Alastor, “Sure, come on in.”

The door opened and someone you’re unfamiliar with rushed in while Alastor stood guard at the door after closing it shut and locking it. “I’m Nemesis, I’m a big big fan of your work! Completely obsessed really! Oh my god! Or is it oh my Lucifer now? Anyways! It’s so good to finally meet you in the flesh! Well, not flesh flesh, but this afterlife is like another life, so~”

“Nemesis. As in like revenge? Enacting retribution?” You blinked at the name, it reminds you of Alastor’s since his meant tormentor, avenger, and persecutor.

They got real close to your face as their smile spread, “Woah, truly the mind of a writer. You got my name reference.” They straightened up as they shrugged, “Other people, oops, demons only got that it’s Greek and hard to remember. Urgh, no class at all. They remember you by title too! Can you guess mine?”

Your eyebrow raised in confusion, you don’t know why this demon, Nemesis, was this causal with you. Though you figured that they had a talk with Alastor beforehand, that’s why Alastor even allowed them to be in here and talking with you. Even with close promixity

You observed Nemesis as they wanted. They were a snow leopard type of demon, with the fluffy ears on top of their head and tail behind them swishing like that of a cat’s. But you can’t tell whether it was just because it was their favourite animal, something they’re interested, or death related. Maybe something that they hate too, there was a sick irony in Hell

Your eyes traveled down to the row of white stielett-type weapons on their sides, they looked like giant dagger-sized needles but to you, they looked more like a pen. When Nemesis noticed your gaze, they took one from each side and started demonstrating to you how it was used like a performance

“The Dancing Needle.” Your lips moved and words came out before you knew it. At Nemesis’ frozen state and Alastor’s shocked face, you covered your mouth. “S—”

“How did you know?” Nemesis raved with shock, “You only observed too!”

You looked away, “It was nothing…”

Nemesis shook their head, “No way! It was amazing! If only I realized earlier…”

“Realized what?”

“That you’re the real author of that best selling novel that got so much attention.”

Nemesis went on to tell you. In the living world, they were Cecil and the editor for Karolina

During then, Cecil as an editor fell in love with the novels that Karolina had written. By some miracle, Cecil was given the chance to work as Karolina’s editor in the future and somewhat manager and caretaker since authors needed someone to ground them and since both were female, it was perfect

Over the years, Cecil noticed that Karolina was always attending public events and activities to boost popularity. It was normal, but to Cecil, it was weird that Karolina never actually sat down and written anything or researched for ideas. There was no burnout or ridiculous sleep schedules to follow and adapt to just to write a novel

Yet the requested writings were always provided and they were nearly to perfection, with minor grammar and some careless mis-spelling probably due to tiredness or being in the moment. It was an editor’s dream to work for someone like this. An author that’s famous and lively, and mostly punctual so nothing was forced or rushed to complete and do

But Cecil noticed the odd teachings and advices that Karolina would give to other people. There was nothing solid about it, it was all either the same old same old or just plain out weird to say. She had no accounts to retell, no personal examples to list. Yet she never asked Cecil for help

There was an interesting meeting that Karolina would always do. Whenever a deadline was near, Karolina would visit a friend of hers. Cecil thought it was for comfort and causal chatting at first, but every time she returns, there was more to tell on interviews and talk shows

To Cecil, it felt like someone was providing for Karolina

And Cecil was right. After the death of that friend, Karolina seemingly lost creativity and motivation. She lied on news channel that the novel was written for that friend to get through depression, she lied and painted herself as a caring and loving friend that wanted what’s best for that friend

Isn’t it odd that Karolina continues to sign contracts and appearances on screen regarding the novel? Some people requested for some detail clarification, but she denied them and said it was all secrets saved for her friend

Her friend this, her friend that. Everything was her friend, every excuse was her friend. So Cecil did some digging

Back when the first novel of the series was released, there was a buzz of a copycat that tried to steal Karolina’s work but failed. Cecil got her hands on that copy and read through it, the writing style was identicial to the later volumes that was published, the ideas that were cut off in this copy was in the later volumes

Cecil checked the statistics and comments, the first book had plotholes here and there, some even said it feels like things were missing here and there. But overall, it was still a good story. So there was a push to continue sequel to the first novel

Pages all dropped to the floor at the realization. That friend… That friend that Karolina was caring for… That friend had to be the real author of the books. It all made sense! Cecil searched online and found that that friend died, not by accident or sickness. No… Suicide…

An unfathomable rage and need for justice overtook Cecil and she was determined to see that Karolina suffers a slow and painful down. It was hard to pull it off, but somehow it was managed

Cecil pinned Karolina down with pens and cutters, then used daggers to stab all over her body without hitting any vitals. Cecil sliced words into her skin, ‘copycat’, ‘faker’, ‘liar’, ‘abuser’, and ‘murderer’. Then, Cecil decapitated Karolina’s head off of her body

Courtmeeting was given to Cecil where she used her chance to reveal it all. Who was the real author and who was the fake. Who was in the victim and who was the perpetator. Cecil announced that she is aware and admit that she done wrong, but if she could do it again, she would

The death sentence was passed down

Nemesis kneeled on their knees, looking up at you, tears flowing. “You suffered so much and no one knew or cared. Now they do, I’m included.” They held one of your hand, “So don’t knock yourself down, My Writer.”

Alastor took your other hand, placing a kiss on it, “We will deal with all your troubles so you can relax~ My Beloved.”

You can’t help but chuckled with a carefree closed-eye smile, “Oh you two…” But then your eyes snapped open and eyed the two, then focused on Nemesis. “Oh… There’s two of them now…”

Alastor and Nemesis eyed each other and smiled widely. “Whatever do you mean?”

Note: And that's the end of this arc~ Okay okay, I heard you guys loud and clear. No end yet cause you guys are willing to wait and read more. I'm taking a break from this series for a while to do other ones. But what do you think of this one?

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

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#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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axeoverblade · 9 months

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Morales Twin Au x fem! reader

Morales twins x fem! reader

Synopsis! It was fairly obvious you had crush on your long term best friend, Miles Morales. It was also obvious that his twin brother Milo, was a pain in your ass.

PT 1 > PT 2 (current)

MASTERLIST

Genre: Fluff, slight angst if you squint, slight suggestion if you squint

Warnings: strong language I think that’s it

Word count: 3.3k

Authors comments: if you were in the taglist but not @ it’s because someone deleted it! sorry for my long break guys but I’m back, Been a lil stressed but hopefully this makes up for it <3

MORE ABOUT MORALES TWIN AU IN NAVIGATION

E! 1610 Miles > Miles

E! 42 Miles > Milo

Miles was irritated to say the least.

Everytime you would come over to see him, somehow his counterpart always got involved. It had gotten to the point that when you left, he would find himself angry with Milo.

Sure he knew it wasn’t Milo’s fault he was mad. Truthfully there wasn’t anything wrong with you interacting with Milo.

But this wasn’t how you two normally interacted.

Miles saw the way Milo’s eyes lingered when you would walk away, a little too long for his liking. Or how you would just somehow always find yourself play-fighting with Milo. And not the usual MMA brawls you two used to have-, no. Just somehow, it would always end with Milo holding you waist and you two laughing, screaming at him to let go of you.

Miles didn’t know why this made him so annoyed. I mean, he knew it was different to see you and Milo being kind to each other, but it shouldn’t have made him mad.

For the longest, Miles knew he was the only twin you enjoyed being around.

He knew how much you hated Milo. You would talk about how much you wanted to stick Milo’s hand in a dish disposal.

But now? You looked at his hands carefully to see the designs of his rings, sometimes even trying them on.

He should be happy if anything, all he’s ever wanted was for you three to be able to hang out peacefully.

But this was too damn peaceful.

Every weekend you found yourself at the Morales home, this weekend being no different.

And just like usual, you were arguing with Milo. “You talk too much” he mumbled as he rolled his eyes, grabbing a cup from the cabinet. You glared at him as you leaned on the counter next to him, scowling. “Boy you know good and well I will not hesitate to pop you in your throat.” You scoffed, taking a sip from your water.

He chuckled, “stay mad I beat you. Not my fault you trash.” He shrugged as he filled his cup with juice, looking at you amused as he put the lid back on.

“You won barely.” You held your thumb and pointer finger up together in close proximity to further your point. “And you got in my way, I would’ve won if you didn’t wave yo’ hand in my face.” You smacked your lips, looking away from him with an eye roll.

“All I’m hearin’ is excuses ma. Just admit I’m better than you will ever be.”

“Shut yo daddy long leg ass up”, you rolled your eyes looking at his figure up and down. The gray sweats and black wife beater combo he was wearing clearly showed how lanky (yet oddly muscular) he was. He smirked at you, “you just wanted n’ excuse to call me daddy”.

A small ‘tuh’ left your lips, “if I wanted to call you daddy I would’ve said so”. He turned to fully face you, walking slightly closer so he was right in front of you.

He grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact with you as he licked his lips. “We both know you want to”.

You stared at him wide eyed, ignoring the feeling of heat slightly raising to your cheeks.

Milo burst out cackling, almost spilling his juice on you. “Your face! You look like a lemur.” He held his stomach, closing his eyes, thinking what he said was so funny.

Furrowing your eyebrows at his odd (and somewhat disturbing) comparison, you rolled your eyes and walked past him. “You doin too much. And hurry up Miles is waiting for us-, annoyin’ ass”

“Wait for me King Julian!”

“Milo swear I won’t kill you”

Another weekend at the Miles Morales home.

This time Rio was cooking dinner. She had assigned you and Milo to go to the small store on the corner and fetch some more cilantro and lime.

Usually, Miles and you would be the ones assigned store duties, but Rio decided today was the day she would teach Miles to not burn the house down with his cooking.

…

“Ew look at that rat” you pointed disgusted, seeing the large half bald rat scurrying around quickly a few feet away. Milo turned his head away from the creature “why would you point that out.” He scowled, walking a little quicker. “Aye don’t leave me with that!” You caught up to him, turning back a few times to make sure it wasn’t getting any closer.

The trip to the store was quick. It didn’t take longer than a few minutes, plus you had picked out a few snacks for the twins and you to share.

As you were walking home with Milo, you saw a small cardboard box with the word free written across it.

With a quick glance at Milo, you realized he hadn’t noticed. Before he even saw that you were walking away from him, you were already crouching in front of the box.

Milo halted realizing you weren’t next to him anymore. Mildly concerned, he looked around quickly.

He spotted you a few feet back with your hand in a random box.

Quickly walking over to you, the furrow in his eyebrows never left. “Y/n ‘the hell you doin?”

When he got closer, he saw the black kitten in the box. He also noticed how the kitten had taken a liking to you.

“No.”

You turned to him offended, “Milo, we can’t just leave it here.”

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do. Now get up and cmon’” he lightly tugged your free hand. “Milo what if it dies out here?” He sighed, “The next person will get it. Ain’t our concern.”

You frowned, looking into his eyes. “Milo I can’t leave it. It has no one.”

“Ma, neither one of our homes has room or the time for a kitten. They pee everywhere and they stink. Plus they mean as hell. No.”

…

The wide smile on your face could’ve been spotted from a mile away. It didn’t take much after to convince Milo to take the cat with you two; it now in your coat pocket as you walked home.

He was annoyed at first, but after you forced him to interact with the kitten, he was quick to mumble out “maybe we can sneak 'em around”.

Milo wasn’t going to tell you the real reason the cat could tag along was because he simply couldn’t refuse with the way you were looking at him. Your face painted with big doe eyes and a slight pout made it almost impossible for him to ever say no.

And the wide happy smile that followed after he said yes?

Folded him like a damn chair.

…

You figured out she was a girl, and both decided on the name ‘Mila’.

Though Milo would never admit it, he loved the name. He loved even more the reasoning behind it.

“What should we name her?” You said, staring at her as you held her like simba in the opening scene of lion king.

“Ion know, it’s your cat.” He shrugged, lightly pulling you and kept walking so you could get back to the house.

“It’s our cat, we found her together. We’re her parents now.” You said mindlessly tucking her into your pocket, lightly rubbing her head as it stuck out.

Milo glanced at you. He knew you didn’t mean the way it came out but his brain immediately ran with the implication of having a kid with you. And even if it was just a cat, it brought an unexpected swelling to his heart.

“Mila.” He said softly, looking at you.

You smiled at her, not noticing Milo was gazing at you, “awe, that’s yo name from yo daddy, girl. It’s probably the only contribution he will ever make but at least it’s something” you said jokingly, petting her head.

He smiled at you, lightly licking his lips with a small head shake before looking away.

“Welcome to the family Mila.”

Another weekend at the Morales household and you found yourself in the kitchen.

Tonight was movie night for the three of you, which meant endless snacks and drinks were going to be shoved down your throat until you were stuffed to the brim. Was it healthy? Absolutely not. But does it taste good? 100%

But there was a predicament. Your “assigned” cup was on the highest shelf, and happened to be right out of your reach. You would’ve climbed on the counter to get it, but last time you tried to Jeff damn near killed you for “putting your nasty feet on his fresh cooking counters”, so that was off the table.

Usually Miles would be the one to get your cup because of the location. But when you called out for him to come in and help there was no response.

That was until Milo walked in, a slight hunch in shoulders as he walked lazily into the room. He smacked his lips, “He’s setting up the movie, whatchu want?” His tone, though somewhat annoyed, was oddly soft.

With a quick roll of the eyes you pointed to the cup in question. “Can you grab that f’me?”

He looked at you blankly for a second before nodding. “You know you don’t always gotta use that cup right?” He said amused, seeing the other cup selections that you could reach.

“Yea but that’s my cup.” You said matter of factly, facing your back to the counter so you could lean against it. He shrugged, walking closer towards you. “Whatever helps you sleep at night ma.”

He reached over you grabbing the cup.

His cologne was strong in your nostrils, such a gentle yet masculine scent wafted through your senses. It was intoxicating, yet not enough to be overwhelming.

You noticed the slight freckles that rested through Milo’s neck ran up his jaw. He had a very small amount of soft beard hair he had started to grow, barely visible had you not been looking so hard.

“Starings rude ma.” Milo said as held the cup, breaking you out of your trance.

You looked into his eyes, “Don’t flatter yourself sir.”.

Milo was oddly close, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable by any means.

If anything it felt natural, as if this is how close he should be at all times. “You seem to be flattering me ‘nough for the both of us.” He teased, his voice stringing deeper and huskier than usual.

You didn’t miss the small glance he held at your lips, his eyes lingering for a second before meeting your gaze again.

The air became thicker. It didn’t feel nauseating or suffocating though. It felt like a blanket had been placed over your body, effectively making you feel hot inside.

It was a feeling you had only ever felt at the thought of Miles.

Milo licked his lips as his eyes trailed up and down your features. There was an unrecognizable look in his eye. And even though unfamiliar, the way he was gazing at you sent a rupture of butterflies through your stomach all the way to your heart.

“Guys I got the movie on.” Miles walked into the kitchen, his attention placed on the phone in his hand.

Milo swiftly placed the cup on the counter next to you and moved back to the opposite counter. “You guys ready?” Milo asked as he looked up, a large smile playing at his face.

Milo looked at you once more before answering “yea.”

The Morales household was quieter than usual. Jeff and Rio had left for the night on a ‘one night parent only’ vacation, trusting you and the twins to be civil for their night out.

The soft moonlight shined through the window of Miles' room, caressing his floor.

As you were laying in his bed, he was sprawled out on top of you holding you close; something that would happen often at your sleepovers.

Miles had fallen asleep on you over thirty minutes ago; leaving you staring at the ceiling as he cuddled you.

Saying you were bored was an understatement. But you knew he often didn’t get to sleep well, so waking him wasn’t an option.

Letting your state of uninterest in sleep win, you attempted to wiggle his limbs off of you to make leeway to leave.

He mumbled gently under his breath, telling you to ‘stay still’. You stopped for a second, contemplating listening to his drowsy pleas.

Had you not been bright eyes and bushy tailed you most likely would’ve, but laying in a dark room with nothing to do but stay still absentmindedly was beyond even your infatuation for the boy. Sighing out a quick apology and a promise to return soon, you snuck out of his grasp.

Making a split second decision, you decided on heading to the kitchen for a snack.

The home was calm, an unoften serene that only happened in the dead night. It was just you and the JBL that stayed in the kitchen together.

Connecting your phone to the speaker, you turned on your soft Spanish playlist. You decided to take the initiative to clean the dishes that you three had piled up over the night. Even though you created the least amount of the mess.

…

The late night snack you had originally planned on getting had been tossed out the window.

The Music aided dearly in making the cleaning process quicker, swaying your hips to the soft sounds of guitar and humming along to whomever was singing as the songs ran on. Even if you could only pick out bits and pieces of the words they spoke as the dishes clinking was sometimes louder than the music, you mumbled what you could make out.

You were truly at peace.

You were unaware that Milo was still awake in his room playing on his console.

Hearing the soft Melodie’s coming from the kitchen, he hopped off the game to see what was happening. After sneakily making his way to the kitchen, he saw your dancing figure cleaning.

Leaning against the entrance to the kitchen, he watched you attentively; eyes following every movement you made.

Milo knew the way he felt in his chest was beyond infatuation for you at this point. He truly wasn’t sure to be relieved at the fact that you were unaware of his feelings, or want to crumple up into a ball. But as long asn you still liked his brother, it was for the best you didn’t know.

As the song came to an end the humming from your lips continued. Finishing up washing the dishes and setting them aside, Milo crept up behind you.

Placing his hands lightly on your hips, you jolted, startled by the presence behind you. You quickly turned around breaking the grasp he had on your hips, looking to see who had broken your serene. Of course.

Lightly punching his chest, you glared at him annoyed, “what the hell Milo! I damn near had a heart attack.”, you carefully whisper-shouted, in hopes to not wake Miles.

You turned back around to rinse out the sink, expecting him to move away from you, but he stayed behind you.

The soft sound of Natalia Lafourcade's voice filled the room, gentle music of “Soledad y el Mar” playing over the speaker.

Still feeling Milo’s presence behind you, you tilted your head over your shoulder.

“Do you need somethin-”

“Dance with me.”

He cut you off, his hands gently making their way back to your waist. You stared at him bemused, “I-what? No. I’m cleaning-” “dance with me.” He reiterated, “One song, this song and I’ll leave you alone.” You narrowed your eyes at him. You sighed, wiping your hands with the towel next to the sink. “You’ll leave me alone?” He nodded lightly, “For now. Damn just baila conmigo mujer.” Rolling your eyes, you nodded.

A lazy grin made its way to his face as he grabbed your hand gently turning you around, pulling you into his chest.

…

Oddly enough, you two quickly fell in sync. It was almost- nice.

He placed his hands around your waist again as you hummed lightly to rythm, swaying your hips against his.

He nestled his head into your shoulder.

A soft sigh escaped both your lips at the same time. You were surprised as he hummed with you to the cadence of her voice, “You know this song?” You whispered lightly, but loud enough that he could understand you. “Mi mamá plays music like this all the time when she cooks. It’s usually Ismael Rivera, but she has a few different people.” His mumble fell gently into the cusp of your neck. You hummed, nodding understandingly; recalling all the times you would hear Rio play her music as she cooked when you would hang out with Miles.

What he failed to tell you was that his dad would do just as he did when he saw his mother humming to the soft sounds of Spanish serenades in the kitchen. Jeff would whisk her away and dance with her; sweet affirmations of his love falling into her neck. Milo would catch them all the time when he and Miles were in their rooms, usually coming out for a moment to get water but instead ending up watching them silently from the hallway.

As the song neared its end he held you close, the rhythm you two had built slowly turning into a soft rock.

The feeling was oddly domestic, too domestic. It made you wonder- more of a realization than piqued curiosity- if you wouldn’t mind doing this again.

If you wouldn’t mind seeing Milo’s face when you went to bed or woke up in the morning.

If-, that you wouldn’t mind having a future with Milo.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Miles woke up noticing the warmth from your embrace was gone indicating you weren’t in his room anymore.

He decided to get up, thinking you were in the kitchen getting a snack. As he walked out his room quietly, he heard the sound of two voices, your and his twin.

He stood silently in the hallway watching the sight in the kitchen. His face contorted from tired to a very displeased look, jealousy enveloping his body as he watched what was happening.

You would only do things like this with him, only share such loving embraces with him, not his counterpart.

When did you two become so close?

As his eyebrows furrowed, he went back to his room; choosing against ruining happiness that radiated from the two of you,

choosing to return to his bed cold and alone.

BONUS:

As the song ended, Laura Fygis rendition of “sabor a mi” replaced the tune. Milo gently let go of you with a small sigh, turning to leave you alone after one song as promised.

With a quick bite of your lip and a moment’s contemplation, you gently grabbed his bicep stopping him from leaving.

He turned his head over his shoulder to look at you, “you and I both know it’s criminal to not dance to this song.” You raised a brow, avoidantly asking him to dance with you again.

A smirk reached his lips, his eyes glistening, “Just say you can’t get enough a’me ma.” His hands swiftly lead right back to waist, smoothly joining your footing in sync once more.

“Don’t ruin the moment morales”

©axeoverblade

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demonsword586 · 2 months

Text

Leviathan Attacker story part 1

(I would like to apoligise. I play the ps version and tumblr doesn't let me post full on dick pics,so no pp😔. Anyway enjoy the 1.part of Levi's attacker story and I shall post more in following days.)

A long wide hallway with soothing classical music and the faint scent of flowers.

The palace of Hades was lofty and beautiful as though showing it's master's prefrences.

Click,click,click...

You hurried through the beautiful corridor as fast as you could without breaking the courtesy.

Right. You were lightly running.

You wanted to take your time exploring the palace which was a work of art in and of itelf,but-

A few hours ago in Gehenna.

Satan: Go and hand him this chest and come back right away. If you're late even in the slightest,I'm going to take everyone and invade Hades.

Sitri: Really?

Satan: Shall I do it now?

Sitri: N-No. His Majesty Satan is a man of his word.

Satan handed you a black chest with about fifty locks and began to fume.

Satan: The bastard had just used something that Gehenna had helped him with before.

Sitri: That bastard being....?

Satan: Leviathan,of course. I shoudn't have acted cool in the moment and said 'I'll grant you one request,whatever it may be'!! Damn it!!!

Ppyong who happened to be next to Satan,got kicked by Satan and disappeared into the sky in a beautiful parabola.

(bg changes to the sky and Ppyong slowly disappearing)

Ppyong: Ppyoooooooooooong~~~~~

(bg going back to Gehenna streets)

Satan: He chose MC to bring this to him...What an impertinent guy...

Satan kept fuming as though he coudn't calm down.

Sitri explained in Satan's place as though he thought his king was incapable of proper conversation anymore.

Sitri: This chest is called <Anti Pandora's box>

Sitri: It's an object that Morgan le Fay had until the end,but it came into Gehenna's possesion when she made a deal with Satan to dethrone king Arthur.

Sitri: His Majesty cherished it because it's a terrible object with the emotions of all hypocrisy.

Sitri: That's why he's raging.

Sitri: I don't want to hand over the < Anti Pandora's box>,but he even made you Solomon as the deliverer,so his Majesty Satan's rage will soon....

Passing devil: Argh,aaaaaahhh~~~~!

Another devil standing near Satan got kicked by Satan and disappearedinto the sky.

Sitri: ...I was going to tell you to get going,because I expected his Majesty's anger would gradate because of his depression...

Satan: That impertinent bastard!!! I'm going to invade Hades!!! ARGHHHH!!!!

Just when the raging Satan was looking for the next devil to kick,someone furtively pushed a teddy bear into Satan's hand. It was Leraye.

Like how Satan kicked everything that touched his feet,he almost instinctively held it separately by it's head and body to rip it when something touched his hand.

Rip--! Riippp!!!

Ppyong: Ehhh!!!

Rubbing his swollen bottom as he returned,Ppyong looked afraid at the brutal sight.

Unlike the scared Ppyong,Leraye was about to happily pick up the body of the teddy bear after Satan fumingly separated its head from its body.

Thwack!!!

Satan also kicked Leraye who had approached into the distance.

(bg changes to Leraye getting kicked)

Leraye: Aaaarghhh!!

Leraye screams of deep joy faded into the distance.

(bg changes back to Hades halls)

MC: (Is the secret to Gehenna devils having bouncy butts indeed because of Satan's kicks...but I'm still a bit scared.)

You could still clearly see Satan raging like a dragon breathing fire and hurried on.

MC:(I'll hand it over and get back quickly!)

You somehow found it difficult to visit Leviathan.

Partly because he was so beautiful and out of this world,but also because you didn't know when he was going to get frustrated and strangle you.

Sometimes,you thought the heavy emotion of sadness and not speaking the same language may be one o the reasons,but there was also a part of you that wanted to see Leviathan after all this time.

In other words,you had ambivalent feelings about meeting Leviathan,like you liked it but didn't like it.

So confirming your emotions was also a reason why you were hurrying your footsteps. And...

Clink,clink,clink!

MC: (I want to put down this omnous black chest that seems to be wriggling and making sounds from a while ago..)

Just then you remembered what Sitri beseeched you again and again before leaving Gehenna.

Sitri: (Never. Never think about opening it. It would be incomparable to opening Pandora's box)

Sitri: (So please. Never open it.)

MC: ( Right. Let's just see Leviathan's handsome face,give him the chest and go back...)

Maybe because you had been lightly running,but you soon researched the hall where Leviathan was faster than you expected.

The gatekeeper recognized you and bowed to say hello.

Then,he was about to open the door for you when he suddenly stopped moving and leaned toward you a little to speak in the quiet voice.

Guard devil: That's the <Anti Pandora's box>! Wait,rather,you're here today..!

MC: Huh? Is today a special day?

Guard devil: It is special in a way...

Guard devil: But take care. I dared give you advice since everyone in Hades like you very much although they pretended not to.

MC: ???

Unable to understand the gatekeeper,you were about to ask back

When he hurriedly opened the door again as though explaining in detail would put him in trouble.

No,he tried to open the door,when he pulled an expression as though he was saying 'I knew it. This won't work.' and added.

Guard devil: Please,don't even thibk about opening that chest.

With the gatekeeper's amxious voice,the door opened.

Creaaak-

(bg changes to Hades throne room)

The massive doors that were like the mouth of Leviathan's monster opened up and revealed a hall as eerily silent as ever.

The dozends of devils filling the halls were bowing a little,standing on either side of the long carpet in the middle.

But even with all those devils breathing at the same time,there was barely an intake of breath let alone a movement.

You walked through them to stand right under Leviathan's throne that was at the end of the hall.

Leviathan: .....

Mc: (He won't even say hi?!)

Leviathan looked down at you with an odd look in his eyes.

His hair, an odd wheat-color mass that looked as if God has made it just for Leviathan,sweapt across his forehead.

And long full lashes cast mysterious shadows over his clear pupils.

Not only that but his shimmering skin which seemed to self-luminiscence in the dark looked beautiful like it had been sprinkled with stardust.

Just the fact that he was looking at you made you feel like you were more privilaged than anyone else in the universe.

Mc: (Still...is it so hard to say hello?!)

Everyone else would have their tails between their legs when facing an absolute beauty that can crush all logic-but you were diffrent.

Just the fact that he was looking at you made you feel like you were more privliged than anyone else in the universe.

MC: Leviathan,I'm here. How can't you even say hello? That's sad. Satan told me to give this to you!

When you handed Leviathan the omnious black chest in your hand,the silent hall began to stir.

Subject: Even if she/he is the daughter/son of Solomon,how dare she/he calls his supreme,great Majesty Leviathan by name....!

Subject: Wait,but isn't this the <Anti Pandora's box>! How can that omnious object be here in Hades?!

Subject: That's not the problem! That attitude! It's so unhesitant! It's...yeah....it's basiclly treason!

Subject: Argh! Is that the <Anti Pandora's box>?! I-I should request a day off!!!

The servants who were boisterous as usual became even more boisterous,chatting away at your insolence and the black chest,but you heard none of it.

Leviathan was the only one that concernwd you right now.

Leviathan: .....

Leviathan said nothing in reply and only stared down at you from his throne.

He wasn't staring at Satan's object in your hands.

He was looking solely at you as if he coudn't see the countless devils around him.

Leviathan: .....

MC: (He's not usually talkitive....but today he's just strange!)

Feeling doubious you were about to call Leviathan one more time.

When he stood up from his seat and took off his jacket at the same time.

With nonchalant expression,he rwmoved his outer robe,his arms sliding out of the garment and thrusting his toned chest forward.

At that moment his nipples which were hidden inside the thin shirt jutted out over the shirt,creating small shadows beneath them.

The figure quickly disappeared as he retrached his outstreached chest,but the fleeting sight ytuck in your mind.

You and his subjects all held your breaths for a moment as you watched the garment slide gently off his body.

MC: ( W-What's that? All he's doing is taking off his outer robe...how can he look so vigurous?!)

It was a simple act of 'stripping',but it was so rich and intense that you realized nothing could move a woman's heart like that,even if the most charming man on the planet was flirting with her in a commited way.

Your heart began to race so loudly that thw other devils could hear it and suprisingly,you felt yourself getting wet by the simple act in itself.

As you blushed in secret embarrassment,rhe jacketless Leviathan walked down from his throne and stood before you.

MC: Levia-

Leviathan: Shut up.

Leviathan stopped you and said in a low,mumbled voice.

And then grabbed you by the throat with his thin,pretty hand rhat was larger than it looked as he lifted you off your feet.

MC: Kurgh?!

In an instant,you were strangled and your feet were off the ground,your eyes wide in suprise at the suddwn situation.

MC: Urgh, khgh...

Floating in midair,your eyes met Leviathan's eye level which was taller than you.

It allowed you to look him in the eyes and glare.

MC: ( What is it this time?)

Because you thought of lewd things while looking at Leviathan?

Mc: ( But that's not just me! It's because you look lewd!)

Thinking of things that won't make hjm stare at you in disgust you were about to voiced it out-

MC: (Eh wait. Leviathan's state)

*Leviathan blushes*

You though he was looking down at you indiffrently,but there was an unknown fever in his eyes.

Leviathan's expressions were normally difficult to read,but this time !ou could see his emotions.

MC: (He's...mad..)

You felt a strange mixture of excitment and fear at Leviathan's completly crazy expeession.

But your thoughts coudn't continue.

Leviathan took off his glove from his other hand with his teeth,raised his hand to place it on your chest and slashed down vertically.

With a rip- all your clothes that you were wearing rore in half at knce,splitting into two and falling down.

With Leviathan's single movement,you turned naked in midair,with his hand on your throat.

At the same time all the soldiers and servants in the hall looked away and knelt down.

It was a gesture of loyalty to not covet Leviathan's possesions,a gesture to make this place as empty as possible.

MC: W-What are you doing?

You hurriedly covered your chest.

Soon a devil each stepped out from the back feom the group of devils that stood bisected on either side of the purple carpet.

They moved and kept their eyes averted as though thwy werw determined not to looka t your direction.

Soon the two turned away and slowly,lovjngly began to unbuttoned Leviathan's pants

You saw Leviathan's hardened penis rising above his boxers as his pants were pulled down.

You closed your thighs tightly,embarrassed in your strangled state.

They carefully stripped Leviathan down ro his boxers,then laid them aside and walked back to their positions,heads bowed.

When you opened your eyes,you saw Leviathan' beautiful body that was naked.

At the same time Leviathan's penis was clearly visible as he stood here,uncovered,without pants or boxers.

MC: ( W-Was he that big before?)

Leviathan's beautiful pink penis was somehow as moist and flustured as the corners of his eyes.

You wondered if you were weird for thinking your partner's erect penis was beautiful, even when he was strangling you.

Or if Leviathan was strange for getting hard while strangling you.

The thick smell coming from the lower half of Leviathan body made your mind hazzy.

With you in his grip,Leviathan was soon breathing roughly.

The fact that you were in the hands of a beautiful king who had gone mad was begining to stimulate you.

Leviathan's penis which coudn't have risen any higher,nodded a few more times before starting to ooze a white liquid.

MC: (Is he coming? No...that's something else...)

The liquid that had begun to flow from the tip of Leviathan's penis enveloped the entirety of his penis and eventually dripped on the floor qith a dull sound.

The devil,the biggest beast in mythology - said to be able to even swallow Heaven - is acting like a male in a rut

The crystallization of a male. The essence that only a male can produce,was flowing out of his body like a fountain.

Such that although you only thought about it for a moment,a small puddle has formed on the ground.

You felt that with that amount,there would be no creature that coudn't be fertilized.

No,it was not slowing down any time soon. The liquid was gushing out so much,you coudn't even tell how much of it was there.

MC: (Amazing.)

You thought and with your face dark red from the rushing of blood,licked your lips without realizing it.

Your perverted nature,unrivaled amongs humans,felt happy to be able to witness such a spectacle.

As you reached the limit of your oxygen supply and your eyes began to fall back,you felt a lightning bolt of pleasure strike your wet lower half.

MC: Kurgh...urgh...!!

As you wrapped your arms around Leviathan's neck,unable to control your excitment,his penis jerked highly once more.

And holding you up with his hand,he thrust his wet pillar inside you.

Fwolp!

MC: !!!!

Leviathan's already wet pillar slid unresistingly inside you.

At the same time,the hand holding your throat loosened and the blocked airway opened once again,sending tickling sensations throughout your body.

You trembled at the exploding pleasure for a moment.

Now,you were in Leviathan's arms as his penis penetrated you.

When you looked up,you could see Leviathan looking down at you.

Looking at his face which was still crazy but the most beautiful face you'd ever seen,you quickly looked away in embarrassment.

Leviathan: Don't...be cold...

MC: (What?)

Blankly murmuring incompregensable words,Leviathan held your bottom with his hand and began to walk with his penis inside you.

MC: W-Wait! This position! Ugh...My stomach is filling up!

Leviathan's object continued oozing white liquid and your stomach was filled with his liquid to the point it looked slightly convex.

As he began to walk,you could even hear the sloshing in your gut. And everytime his feet crossed,a gap opened where you were connected to him and white liquid gurgled and leaked out onto the ground.

MC: (Are we Hansel and Gretel?! This is embarrassing!)

Where Leviathan walked,a white path was being made of the liquid that came out of him,went into you and came back out again.

Being around devils filled your perverted mind with pleasure's you never seen or imagined. It was like that again.

Now you began to enjoy it. You had pressed your own button.

MC: Where...Tell me where are we going?...Ah,ughh...I love it...

Leviathan: To somewhere safe.

Leviathan said something you coudn't understand,but watching his mad and beautiful face made you tremble with happiness.

None of the subjects raised thwir heads or criticized you until the moment Leviathan left through the door at the end of the hall.

You left rhat silent,uncanny loyalty behind and began to move,impaled by Leviathan and carried by him.

Feeling his wet pillar entered you even deeper and left you each time Leviathan took a step.

And the slickness of Leviathan's fluid filling your stomach, and the sound of it dripping onto the floor.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb leviathan #whb satan #whb sitri #whb leraye #whb ppyong

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ladykailitha · 2 months

Text

The Harrington Pattern Part 11

The second one for today.

There is a joust, a wild Eddie shows off his mating dance, and Steve and Jeff plot a romance.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED

****

Steve sat on the edge of his seat as he cheered each successful strike the Black Knight made and winced with every hit he took.

The kids were loudly shouting and cheering and even Nancy would leap to her feet when the Black Knight won a match.

It was down to the final match. The Black Knight verses the White Lion. They were two points each. Final run.

The horses pawed at the ground. The knights shifted in their armor as they tried to settle the joints. Every person in that stadium was on the edge of their seat, leaning forward as they held their collective breath.

The man stepped forward with the flag and eyed each knight nervously. He looked up at the king and queen. The king nodded giving his consent. The flag dropped and the man leapt out of the way.

The horses raced down the line as the knights lowered their lances. The audience slowly rose to their feet as the horses thundered toward each other.

No one had yet taken a single breath.

Then...

CLASH!

And the White Lion flew to the ground as his horse made it to the other side of the arena. His squire grabbed the horses reins to stop it from running away.

The whole crowd erupted, the breath finally released in shouts of exultation.

The Black Knight and his squire were at their other end of field, whooping and hollering as they celebrated his win.

Steve and Robin grabbed each other and jumped up and down. They hadn’t seen anything so exciting since Lucas made the final shot of the game.

And it appeared that the boy in question thought the same as he kept screaming “YES!!”

The Black Knight took off his helmet and waved at the crowd. And their entire row let out a gasp.

“Jeff?” Dustin squealed. “Jeff was the Black Knight all along? That is so awesome!”

Now Lucas was completely flipping out. No one could deny that Jeff had won fair and square. That he had the superior skill.

Steve looked over at the king and queen. Neither one of them looked happy to see it had been Jeff the whole time. But they appeared gracious enough when they were handing out the prizes.

Steve was cheering and screaming right along with the rest of them. And it was a cool surprise. Who would have thought that Jeff played his favorite sport.

After the award ceremony they were allowed to go see Jeff at the stable.

Steve looked around when he entered. Jeff caught his eye and grinned. They both knew who he was looking for.

“He’s getting ready,” Jeff said with a wink. “You’ll just not want to miss the next event.”

Steve bit his lip and nodded. Whatever it was, he knew it was going to be amazing. He just wished he had more of an idea of what it was. He looked out at the arena floor and saw that the long wooden partition for the joust had been taken down and workers were quickly putting up... what, Steve wasn’t sure.

“Just let me get out of this armor,” Jeff was saying, “and I’ll join you guys in the stands.”

As they walked back to the stands, Robin pulled out her flier of the day’s events and Steve looked over her shoulder.

“What’s trick riding?” he mumbled.

But she just shrugged. She didn’t know either.

They sat up in the stands and they talked among themselves as the workers finished up what they were doing.

The field was mostly empty except a small platform where the rider would mount their horse.

There were two horses, both black with weird looking saddles.

The announcer got up and bellowed into a megaphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he shouted. “For the first time ever here at the Hawkins Renaissance Fair we have Hawkins own Eddie Munson trick riding extraordinaire.”

Eddie stepped out onto the field but gone were the puffy sleeves and thigh high boots. His costume was tight fitting and boots were soft soled. It still looked period, but it was clearly designed from modern materials which would make it easier to move in.

Strapped to his back was a lute, the same lute he had been carrying all week.

He mounted the platform and waved to the crowd.

Eddie got on to the first horse and got it into motion. The other horse merely shook its mane as it waited patiently for its turn.

Eddie raised his feet and slipped them into a set of stirrups higher up on the saddle. Sending a wink Steve’s way, he stood up on the horse and began to play.

He began singing. Horribly. Eddie was a fine enough singer for their band, but it seemed to Steve he was deliberately off key as he sang ribald bar tunes.

He slipped a harness over his head and around his waist. Then to shock of the crowd, slid off the side of the horse. Steve was on his feet, so sure that Eddie would be crushed under the thundering hooves the galloping horse.

But as the horse turned, Steve could see that Eddie was safe and still playing.

His caterwauling got progressively worse the more dangerous the stunt was. Almost as if he was signaling to the audience that he was safe.

He made it back to the platform where he handed the lute off to someone who had stepped out onto the field for the reason. They removed the saddle off the one horse Eddie had been riding and he straddled both horses, one foot on each.

And off he went racing around the arena.

Steve was sure that his heart had stopped several times, once with every trick Eddie did.

He was also pretty sure that wasn’t good for it.

But Eddie landed every trick like a pro and at the end he hopped off the platform with a jaunty wave and a deep bow.

Steve was cheering up and down as the crowd around him erupted with applause.

Eddie bowed again and with the other guy that had taken his lute, lead the horses away.

Steve isn’t sure who was more impressed by Eddie’s riding the kids or Nancy. Her jaw had dropped from the first trick and remained that way all throughout Eddie’s riding.

“Where did he learn that?” she asked.

Jeff grinned. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Everyone exchanged glances as the whole gaggle followed Jeff back to the stable where Eddie and the other guy were brushing down the horses Eddie had used in his show.

The man, who on closer inspection was a teenage old boy spotted Jeff and waved. “Jeffrey! You did great out there today. Mom hasn’t stopped gushing about it.”

The Party turned to Jeff in shock. But he just chuckled.

“Guys,” he said, “this is my little brother Ollie. Ollie, you remember Gareth and Brian, the boys are Hellfire, the girls kick ass, and the two guys are the brat wranglers.”

Jonathan and Steve shared a look before they chorused, “Hey!”

Eddie laughed, but did the proper introducing. When he got to Steve, Ollie’s eyes went wide and nodded.

“Steve Harrington,” Ollie said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Steve frowned. “From Jeff?” he asked, confused.

“No, man,” Ollie said with a laugh, “from Eddie.”

Who promptly ducked behind his horse under the guise of brushing its mane.

Steve licked his lips slowly as a sly smile took over his face. “No doubt only horrible things,” he teased.

Eddie let out a squawk and glared at him from around the horse. “Hey!”

Steve laughed and Eddie let out a little huff of breath as he pouted.

“Our parents own the horses,” Jeff said, “We have three that joust and two the trick ride and then there’s King, who was a racehorse in his heyday.”

Ollie nodded, “We usually let whoever is playing the king of the Fair ride him at the closing ceremonies. He’s pretty as hell.”

“So like Steve,” Dustin said. “He used to be called King Steve in high school.”

Steve tipped the twerp’s hat off.

“Hey!”

El giggled and Dustin’s head whipped around to face her. She pressed her lips together and looked up and away.

“Can I see King?” Will asked, softly.

Ollie lit up. “Yeah, sure.” He turned to Jeff. “I’ve got get him ready for tonight anyway, so I can I have Will help me?”

Jeff smiled at his little brother. “Sure thing, it’ll make the work go faster.”

“He seems like a good kid,” Jonathan said, “how old is he?”

“He’s fourteen,” he said, “so he’ll be an incoming freshman this year.”

Lucas smiled. “So a year younger than us.”

Jeff nodded.

“Is he going to join Hellfire?” Dustin asked, practically vibrating out of his skin.

“He wants to but with me graduating last year,” Jeff said with a wince, “he’s worried he won’t know anyone but Gareth.”

Lucas grinned. “Well he knows us now, we’ll hang out with him all summer so that come school time, he’ll have friends in Hellfire.”

Jeff grinned back. “I think he’d really like that.”

Steve smiled at his nuggets. He was glad that they were willing to take this kid they just met under their wing and make sure he didn’t get lost at high school.

He really couldn’t have been prouder. He caught Eddie’s eye and the other man grinned.

He lopped over to Steve, the grin never leaving his face.

“So pretty boy,” Eddie teased. “You enjoy the show?”

Steve nudged him his shoulder. “Of course I did. A bit terrifying on this side of things though.”

Eddie laughed. “I assure you, sweetheart, it’s equally terrifying on my end, too.”

“How long have you been doing this then?”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and thought about it. “On and off since I got to Hawkins and became friends with Jeff. His mom is the one that thought me, but I’ve only been serious about it in the last couple years. As a way to keep myself from getting too depressed about school.”

“That’s fair,” Steve said.

When he looked around most of them had gone. It was only Robin, Gareth, Jeff, and Max that remained.

“Where did everyone go?” Will asked as he came out the stall with Ollie.

Robin began counting of on her fingers. “Brian and Mike went to go watch the caber toss on the outskirts of the Fair. Dustin, Lucas and El went to go watch the sword fights. Nancy and Jonathan went to try the ax throwing.” She looked around. “Did I miss anyone?”

The rest of them shook their heads.

“And the rest of us were waiting for Will!” she finished with a cheer.

Will blushed and Eddie and Steve shared a knowing glance.

“Hey, do you and Ollie want to come with me to see the bagpipers?” Max asked Will.

Will and Ollie looked at each other and then nodded as one. The two boys followed the pirate queen, walking side by side.

“Well,” Gareth said, “I’m glad Mike missed that one.”

Robin looked over at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Mike is always jealous of anyone who spends time with Will,” Steve explained, “except El. Even if he spends all his time with her, he still gets jealous when Will gives up and goes to talk to someone else.”

Eddie nodded. “That kid has got to get his head out of his ass, before a sweet boy like Ollie sweeps our Will the Wise off his feet.”

Jeff grinned. “I like that idea!”

Gareth snorted. “You only like that idea because Mike called your thief a common rogue.”

“My thief is literally a lord,” Jeff defended. “Like Lord Kelnic is his name. He can’t be a common rogue.”

Steve leaned over to Eddie and whispered, “What are they talking about?”

“I’ll explain it later,” Eddie whispered back.

Steve nodded, knowing that Eddie would do just that.

“Hey, you want to go for a stroll?” Steve asked. “I don’t care where, really. I just want to spend the afternoon with you.”

Eddie perked up. “Hell yeah! Why don’t I show the behind the scenes stuff most people don’t get to see?”

“Sounds perfect.” Steve smiled.

Robin and Jeff shared a fond glance about their best friends and shook their heads as Eddie led Steve away.

****

Part 12 Part 13

I love jousting Eddie as much as the next gal, but I also realize that Eddie looks like a stiff wind would knock him over and would be flying out of that saddle with every hit. So I made him a trick rider instead.

I also did not set out to write Will a love interest, the love interest just shoved himself into my story and I let him stay.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter CLOSED

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

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minicoffee00 · 7 months

Text

Fast Changes - Part 2 Azriel x Reader

Plot: You are Feyre’s younger twin and get sent into the Cauldron with your sisters coming out as high fae. What happens on this journey

Im sorry about all the pov changes in the last one from 1st person to 3rd, but it felt like the only way i could easily write it!

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Assault, Nakedness in Public, Angst

Part 1

Time had past, and the queens had been ended up siding with Hybern and betraying both their own mortals and Prythian.

Y/N was now stood in front of Nesta and Elain protectively. They were both still in their silk nightgowns whereas, their sister who’d fought nail and tooth for them when Hybern had come for them, was now stood naked.

There was the promise from Hybern that the guards watching over the three captive sister could ‘do as they please’ with them.

Y/N had stepped forward in order to protect her sisters from the torture, begged Hybern to take her to a separate cell and let it just be her. No harm to come to her sister and they could do as they please with her, but only her.

Hybern had laughed, joking how she wouldn’t survive the wrath of his guards on her own, it would be better to have it split out between the sister. But she continued to beg despite Nesta declining and Elain’s broken sobs.

“Please, leave my sisters be and I will do whatever you want me to. Just don’t touch them. Or any of my other sisters friends please” she’d begged making Hybern grab her right out of the cell and into one further down in the pit.

They had abused her in every way possible while she was in there. Making fun of her, giving her lashings and worst of all, using her for their own pleasure. She felt dirty as she was left everyday with bruises and mud all over her body.

Feyre, Rhysand, Cassian and Mor looked shocked at the youngest sisters appearance. She looked numb to them, void of any emotion. Staring of with a distant look in her eyes.

Feyre couldn’t help but think her time under the mountain was nothing compared to what her sister had gone through here with Hybern.

The groups shock was all silenced and replaced by even more and new shock as Azriel let out a roar of displeasure seeing the girl with her hands tied behind her back, her body fully displayed to the group.

Elain was quietly sobbing trying to reach out to her sister for comfort. But the restraints made her stay still, her gag was caked with her tears. Nesta’s hair was disheveled as if she’d fought like a wildcat, she was panting as she took the group in front of her in. Took in the Cauldron.

Y/N, numb to everything around her wasn’t listening to Hybern and the queens. Not until she saw the exploding light, she could all but stand there and look pained as Cassian’s wings were shredded, to protect Azriel and Mor.

Elain still sobbing attempted to warn her sister of Tamlin’s advances.

Mor attempted to advance the King but Azriels cry of pure pain made not only her stop, but for Y/N to awake from her void state a little.

“Please stop, you promised you wouldn’t hurt them” she said in the most distant voice anyone on the room had heard. Azriel tried to stand up as he saw the king advance to her.

“Dont touch her” Azriel grunts as Mor comes over to him holding the bloody wound closed with her hand and his falling over on top of it.

“She offered herself to my legion to protect all of you and her sisters. But I just guess that wasn’t enough was it now, pet? Now let’s see what you make of eternity” he says as he forces her body towards the cauldron.

She didn’t fight, or ask for him not too, as Tamlin, Lucien, Azriel and Feyre all begged the king not too. She didn’t pull back against the guards that held her so tightly. She just let it be.

She felt the boil of the cauldron as she went in. Her head was forced in and she just sat there. In the black Smokey water of the cauldron.

It was an immense pain, that had made her want to scream but nothing came out. Not until the cauldron was tripped, the water flowing behind her. Her body was drenched in water. Her long hair now wet and clinging around her chest and breasts now concealed by this. She didn’t stand, just sat trying to breath in and out.

Feyre could see the now pointed ears, and as her eyes looked up, they now looked like Feyre’s once again.

Azriel started to thrash against Mor, one word coming from his mouth that shocked everyone.

“Mate” he had groaned. It was almost laughable, he had waited 500 years for his mate, and now just as he had found her, and the bond had snapped. He was dying. Along with Cassian who was now looking worse for wear as he protested for Elain about to be thrown in.

Y/N started to crawl her way towards Azriel, not knowing why only that she had to get to him.

“Alright let’s get on with it. Get the crying one in there now” Hybern had said as Elain was pulled forward, she thrashed around kicking her feet, scared for her life trying to fight her way out.

Y/N had managed to get to Azriel. She replaced Mor’s hand with her own. The wound on Azriel started to heal from the inside out. He gasped as he partly regained his consciousness, to see his mate healing him.

The pain of the healing caused him to loose that energy again.

Tamlin’s eyes fell on the youngest sister. Feeling his anger diffuse as Azriel was healed. He couldn’t describe it but he knew his calmness came from her and he couldn’t explain why.

As Elain came out, fearing for her life. Lucien had given her his jacket to cover her body. A pained look on his face as she shrivelled away from him.

The same happened for Nesta, Cassian had reached a dying arm out towards her. He too loosing consciousness as Nesta was hauled in.

She was kicking screaming and fighting her way out until she was forced in, her head was forced under much like her sister who hadn’t fought to stay afloat but just had.

In Feyre’s mind all the sister had come out different. From however Elain had been Made … Nesta and Y/N were different. Even before Nesta took her first breath, Feyre had felt it. As if the Cauldron in making her … had been forced to give more than it wanted. As if Nesta had fought even after she went under, and had decided that if she was to be dragged into hell, she was taking that Cauldron with her.

Whereas with Y/N, they all could almost hear the Cauldrons laugh. Almost as if it had been playing a game with her.

Y/N was now making her way over to a quivering Elain. Nesta scooped them both towards her as she stormed at them. She’d steadied the both of them. Nesta’s face was like fury, Elain’s held terror or fear while Y/N’s remained void of anything.

Cassian stirred again hearing Nesta’s cry of anguish as she finally took in her sisters bodies, mainly her youngest one whose body still held bruises and scars across the whole of it, only now washed clean and free of the dirt from the cauldron.

But Elain wasnt looking at Y/N, staring over Nesta’s shoulder. She was looking at Lucien—whose face she had finally taken in. Dark brown eyes met one eye of russet and one of metal. Nesta was still weeping, still raging, still inspecting Elain— Lucien’s hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, “You’re my mate.”

At those words, Y/N’s eyes met Azriel who was starting to awake, just as her lack of energy took hold of her and she fainted Nesta fussing over Elain making Tamlin be the one to catch her.

He held the nude girl in his arms, she looks so so similar to Feyre, maybe just maybe he’d picked the wrong twin to come back with him … maybe Y/N was his second chance.

But an almighty growl sounded from on the floor where Azriel was, and he tried to get up with the help from Mor.

Tamlin could smell the bond, it was strong, so strong it burned his nostrils. His eyes widened, knowing that she hadn’t even accepted or fully acknowledged the bond between her and Azriel yet. So why did it smell as strongly as it did?

It shouldn’t smell this strongly until after the female accepts the bond. Was it maybe where she had been made by the cauldron?

Feyre rushed over seeing Azriel’s distress at his mate being held by the enemy and ripped her out of his grasp.

Azriel relaxed a little at the view of Feyre pulling a large shirt over the top of her, she was shivering where she hadn’t worn clothes since they were taken by Hybern but her face still remained that empty void.

“It’s okay, we gonna get you out of here” Feyre murmured brushing a hand through her sisters hair, tears in her eyes.

Her mind was numb as her sister moved her over to the crew, so that she could have Rhys help hold her upright, when Rhys touched her she immediately stiffened. His touch was painful, and it was as if that touch made her feel all the emotions he was currently feeling, anger, resentment, sadness, longing, defeat, guilt, worry and an overwhelming amount of fear.

She held her head in pain, it was all too much, the noise in the room was suddenly at an ear bleeding level, and her palms had collected a decent amount of sweat aswell as across her brow. It wasn’t a warm sweat though where she was burning up, it was a cold one that made her shiver.

As it all got too much, she succumbed to the noise, only wanting to drown it out, darkness taking over.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acomaf #azriel x reader

317 notes · View notes

lustspren · 1 year

Text

Red Hot Sloppy Christmas ft Karina.

length: 4.7k words✦

Karina & Male Reader.

genres: elf karina, oily sex, titjob, blowjob, master kink, breeding ✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Christmas was your favorite time of the year by far, you loved the atmosphere in the streets, you loved the freezing weather, perfect for snuggling up in a blanket at home with some hot chocolate, accompanied by the colorful lights on your tree.

It was Christmas Eve, you had gone out to dinner with your work colleagues to receive Christmas together; the experience was incredible, you drank, ate like a king, and exchanged gifts with your friends. The night seemed to get no better, but a very pleasant surprise awaited you at home.

You arrived at your apartment at about 1 in the morning, the jingle of your keys echoing through the hallway as you opened the door. You took off your trench coat as soon as you entered and closed the door behind you, hanging it on the coat rack to your right; you also took off your shoes, which you placed carefully on the carpet. You felt the floor much colder than normal, even with your socks on, that surprised you, you used to leave the air conditioning on, but never during this time, and the temperatures definitely didn't get that low. Your body also quickly succumbed to the cold, causing you to shiver; you frowned and walked into the living room, turned on the light, and almost didn't have a heart attack.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" you screamed, scared, "WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?"

Sitting on the floor under your Christmas tree was probably the most beautiful girl you had seen in a long time, her raven hair was long and silky, with bangs that made her eyes stand out; she was wearing a sexy short Christmas strapless dress, black heeled boots that reached below her knees, and a choker of the same color with a small bow tie and a tiny jingle bell. And her ears… were they… pointy? Like an…?

"Oh, you finally arrived master!" she said with a smile from ear to ear, to get up and wipe her behind with her hands.

"M-Master?" you said nervously, without moving an inch of your body, "No, no, wait, answer my question, who the hell are you?"

"An elf, of course," she replied innocently, taking a few steps towards you with her hands behind her back, "and your Christmas present, for being such a good man all year."

"No no no no, this is ridiculous," you shook your head, "tell me the truth, and tell me how the hell did you get in here?"

"I'm telling you the truth, master," she moved even closer to you, now she was only two steps away, but you took a step back, still keeping your distance, "I already told you, I'm an elf, and I went sent here just to serve you, how I got in, or rather, how I appeared here, is not relevant."

"How do I know you're really an elf and not some crazy person trying to kill me?" you refused to believe any of it, your Christmas spirit was strong, but not that strong.

"Don't you think my little ears are enough evidence?" she turned her head slightly to the side, showing you her pretty pointy ears.

"They could be prosthetics," you replied skeptically.

She put her hands to her ears, pulling them several times with her fingers to show you that they were real.

"Very well, they are not."

"And in case you need another proof..." she snapped her fingers, making a small wooden horse appear between the two of you, your eyes widened, and then she snapped her fingers again, causing the horse to vanish into a cloud of snowflakes, which swirled around you and then disappeared.

"My god, you really are… real," you muttered, looking her up and down. Among all the amazement you had not stopped to detail her attributes, her big tits looked incredible, contained by the top of her dress, which was making a great effort not to fall off, and her legs were long and creamy, she really was beautiful in every way possible, you were quickly enraptured.

"Yes! Very real, master," she smiled excitedly, taking a long step forward to stand in front of you.

"So... you're here to serve me, you say," you tried to meet her eyes, which by the way were sapphire blue, but your gaze was distracted by the deep cleavage that herself had highlighted by clasping her arms in front of her, and of course, her bare shoulders and incredibly attractive clavicle weren't far behind, "in what way?"

"Well… that's up to you," she closed the distance between the two of you by wrapping her arms around your neck, which made you feel her boobs against your chest. You froze on the spot, and never so literally, because her arms felt as cold as ice, but that touch was enough to light your fireplace.

"First of all, do you have a name?" you asked, still not touching her.

"Well, you can call me Karina, master," she just looked into your eyes, which increasingly conveyed less innocent intentions.

"Very good Karina..." you raised your hands behind her, feeling her smooth back and then her shoulders with your fingertips, "If you were sent to serve me, I think you know very well everything I want right now, don't you?"

"Oh, of course I do, master," Karina let go of your neck and carefully lowered herself to her knees, “something like this, maybe?” she was teasing you, with a mischievous little smirk on her face.

"Yeah, just that, go ahead, cutie," you nodded toward the growing bulge in your pants.

"As you command, master," Karina completely transformed when she said that, her mischievous smile disappeared, but her eyes were still those of a woman who only wanted to please you. Her face turned leering, her mouth slightly open as she brought her hand straight to your cock through your pants; she stroked it slowly, with firm squeezes from time to time; it wasn't until the bulge was rock hard that she buried her face in it, giving little kisses that made you bite your lip.

She seemed to have received special training exclusively for this, her touch was perfect, delicate, firm and sexy, just like her kisses. Her strokes on your cock continued for a few long seconds, and she didn't stop until she saw a small stain on your pants, that led her to take off your pants, she just had to undo the button, zip it down, and pull your pants and your boxer down to your ankles, freeing your throbbing cock, who automatically was exposed to the cold air, that made you shiver.

"Oh, is it really cold master? It's my fault, sorry," Karina wrapped her icy fingers around your shaft carefully, giving it a few slow strokes, you winced at how cold it felt, "but don't worry, there are places on my body that could be quite warm to you."

Saying this she took you directly to her mouth, she took half of your cock, giving it the warmth she had promised you, you gasped, as she began to bob her head slowly and torturously. Your cock got slippery almost immediately, she knew very well what she was doing, she used her tongue in the perfect way at the perfect moments, and the movements of her head were exquisitely complemented by her silky lips moving all over your meat. You moaned several times because of how good the sensual blowjob she was giving you felt, Karina noticed it and she also moaned a couple times on your shaft, as if she was turned on by the mere fact of pleasing you.

Two of her fingers wrapped around the base of your cock, which gave her free rein to take more than half of your shaft into her mouth, now taking you completely with each pump of her head. Your face twisted in pleasure as you let out a long moan, Karina's face also distorted as she became more and more aroused, causing her to look at you with eyes shining with lust. She didn't move faster at any time, she did everything nice and slow, that only confirmed to you that the slutty elf knew everything you liked. Her drool began to spill drop by drop from each side of her mouth, you felt like you were going to cum soon, so you only gave her a few more seconds until you finally stopped her.

"Stop, Karina," you affectionately separated her from your cock, she looked at you somewhat disconcerted, her breathing agitated and her cheeks flushed.

"Did something happen, teacher?" she asked innocently.

"Get naked, right now, but keep the boots, and the necklace," you ordered, taking a step back.

She raised her hand to snap her fingers and make her clothes disappear, but you stopped her immediately.

"No, do it yourself, no magic, be a good elf," you ordered, releasing her wrist.

"Yes, master," she nodded with a small smile, then stood up.

Her hands went to the top edge of her dress and she began to slowly lower it, revealing her cleavage inch by inch until she finally freed her milky pair of tits. You were mesmerized by how gorgeous and delicious they looked, if you were to compare them to fruits, they would definitely be a pair of perfectly round and firm melons. But it didn't end there, she kept lowering her dress all over her body until she reached her ankles, then she simply left the dress on the ground and took two steps forward to get out of it. You didn't realize it at the time, but your jaw dropped a little at how impressed you were by her body, which was hot as fuck, deliciously toned in every possible place, but not really muscled.

"Do you like my body, master? I worked it with a lot of love just for you," Karina asked with her hands behind her back.

"I love it, you really are… beautiful," you said, slightly flushed with lust, that's how men were rewarded for being good during the year, huh? "But you're forgetting something," you glanced at her pine green panties, which you could easily tell how soaked they were.

Karina complied with the order, also taking off her panties and throwing them next to the dress. Now you had an outrageously beautiful elf from the north pole naked in front of you, and you were going to fuck her, surreal.

"Is that better, master?" you wanted to see her massage her tits, which she did within seconds of you thinking about it, which didn't even surprise you due to her qualities. She did it very slowly, bringing them together whenever she could.

"Much better honey, now come here," you took off the rest of your clothes in a matter of seconds, ignoring the low temperatures as it was contrasted by how hot your body was. You took her waist with both hands and pressed her against your body, this time her tits flattened against your chest, and your cock flat against her creamy tummy. She wrapped her arms around your neck, and that was your green light to finally kiss her.

You didn't even have 10 seconds in the kiss when you knew it was being the best kiss of your entire life, her lips tasted delicious, and her lips felt like two cotton balls because of how soft they were. Your tongue invaded her mouth, and she received it between small moans and gasps; your hands ran through her soft body, caressing her back, her lower waist, her hips and making a small stop on her ass to give each buttock a strong squeeze. Karina tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck, making little caresses with that hand and giving slow strokes to your hard cock with the other one.

The fact that she knew everything you thought was a great advantage, because you could take advantage of it, you wanted her to climb onto your torso and wrap your legs around you, and she did so, with a little jump so that you only had to hold her. You continued kissing her, this time feeling how the tip of your cock brushed from time to time against her wet slit.

You took her to your room, whose door you opened awkwardly because your eyes were more closed than open, but when you were inside the first thing you did was sit with her on the edge of the bed, now she was on your lap, and her pussy was pressing directly against your throbbing cock. Karina attached to you even stronger, as she slightly moved her hips to rub against you, that's when a magnificent idea came to you.

"Hey, you know what I want right now… don't you?" you said pulling away from the kiss, looking into her eyes, which seemed to light up like two pretty streetlights. Her answer was obvious, and you didn't need to tell her, but you wanted to make sure.

"Sure, master, and I must say I love it," she replied with a giggle, then snapped her fingers and made a bottle of massage oil appear in her hand.

"My god, you really are amazing," that was the last thing you said before Karina opened the bottle and poured a small amount of the oil on your cock and on her tits so that it also spread on your chest, soon the rubbing between the two intimacies it became much easier and stickier, which made it feel even better.

"Well... I told you, master," she murmured against your lips, in a raspy, lecherous tone, "I was very well trained for this… to please you."

You kissed her again, but this time the kiss lasted much less, you couldn't concentrate when her two soft, oiled tits rubbed against you.

Once again, Karina read your mind and got off your lap to kneel between your legs. She then took both of her tits with her hands and began to massage them.

"You want my tits around your dick, don't you master?" she asked as she looked into your eyes.

"I don't need to answer that, do I?" you brought your hand to her cheek and caressed it with your thumb.

"No, of course not," she smiled, taking the bottle of oil and pouring it once more, this time in larger amounts on her breasts, your thighs, your abdomen and your cock, at the same time that she was in charge of spreading it herself.

Without much else to do Karina began to concentrate on the main task, she put the jar on the floor, and took your cock to position it between her two mounds, she joined one first, and then the other, until your shaft was part of a slippery and shiny meat sandwich. You didn't bother to hold back the audible moan that escaped your lips as her tits warmed you so well.

She wasted no time in moving up and down, your cock appearing and disappearing with each stroke. You leaned back slightly, resting your hands on the mattress and crumpling the sheets; your senses went completely crazy while Karina gave you the best titjob you could ever have, you moaned, and you put your hand on the elf's neck out of pure instinct, but that only prompted her to lower her neck a little and pull out her tongue, so when her tits came down, her tongue would meet your tip.

"Oh my fucking god," you gasped, closing your eyes for a second, your mouth parted. Karina began to move faster and faster, until she was at the perfect speed that you enjoyed the most. Your pre-cum of hers was spilling every second that passed, but the elf picked it up almost immediately with her soft tongue, from which she also dripped saliva onto her tits.

"Am I doing well, master? Do you like it?" she asked, biting her lip, continuing to move her tits up and down. Her voice forced you to open your eyes and meet her gaze, and you didn't know if you were hallucinating, but you could swear that her blue eyes sparkled for a second.

"Fuck, I love it, just keep going please..." you managed to reply between gasping breaths.

"You're about to cum, aren't you? Master wants to cum on my pretty tits, doesn't he?" After saying that, Karina lowered her neck again, this time sucking the tip of your cock with each pumping of her tits.

You didn't have long to cum, but as soon as she said those words you couldn't contain yourself, and as a result, you exploded. Long and voluminous streams of cum shot out of your cock, one of them inside her mouth, but the rest went straight to her tits, since Karina had taken your cock and aimed it at them while she jerked you very slowly, draining each drop of your thick liquid. You moaned and moaned with your eyes closed, and it wasn't until a few long seconds later that your orgasm stopped.

It took you a moment to open your eyes, but when you did, you admired the beautiful painting you had done on her tits, not only shiny from the oil, but now also from your cum.

Karina's face was flushed, and her breathing was also agitated, but for different reasons, she was just as horny as you or more. She scooped up all the cum she could with her hands and then licked herself up, swallowing all of your scent.

"Fuck come here, I want to eat those tits," you growled, grabbing her shoulders to get her to her feet and onto your lap again. You buried your face in her tits immediately, one nipple to your mouth, and then the other, licking and sucking on both like you were a baby who hasn't nursed in weeks. Karina put her hands on your neck and pressed your face even more against her mounds; she was enjoying it, because again she was moving her hips against your cock, making it rub against her pussy between small desperate moans.

"Ah... do you like them that much, master?" she gasped, as you continued to feast on her perfect pair of tits.

"I love them," you replied, giving each mound a firm squeeze, "but right now, I want to make you cum."

Karina climbed off your lap and onto the bed, then lay on her back with her legs open for you, stroking her inner thighs. She looked at you with a mischievous smile, and then she took off her boots, which she had been wearing all this time.

"Oh, you want to do things that messy, don't you, master?" she asked, you cursed inwardly, the fact that she could read your mind was also a scary thing.

"Yeah honey, so do your thing," you said after picking up the bottle of oil from the floor and going to kneel next to her body. Karina snapped her fingers, and a waterproof plastic blanket appeared on the bed, "good girl."

You got to work, pouring oil and spreading it all over her body in a kind of spontaneous massage, which you specifically concentrated on her legs and crotch, where you rubbed your hands continuously without touching her pussy completely. Then you went to her tits one more time, just to give them a few strokes and squeezes; you lay down next to Karina and crashed your lips against hers in a more torrid and passionate kiss, to make her separate her legs as much as possible and start rubbing her slit with your fingers.

Karina pulled you by the neck and made you stick your torso against her side, so she could feel your body rubbing against hers as you quickly stimulated her clit. She moaned against your lips, clinging to your neck with one hand and your shoulder with the other; she slightly squirmed on the slippery blanket, but she always kept her legs wide open in a very obedient manner, so you decided to up the ante, sticking two fingers inside her tight pussy.

"Master! Oh fuck!" she moaned aloud, pulling away from the kiss. She looked at you with her blue eyes, and you just took in admiring her gorgeous face as she moaned from the two fingers pumping in and out of her, hard enough to make the oil splatter from the crash of your palm against her pube.

You kept pumping your fingers for a long time without lowering the intensity for a single second, you licked her tits, sucked on her nipples, kissed her neck, and bit her jawline several times, all to be able to see that beautiful girl gone crazy with pleasure. Your labors paid off, because after a few seconds she caught your hand between her thighs, which clenched violently while the pretty elf had her first orgasm of the night. The bedroom was filled with her tender moans, and her fingers clung to your hair. Your hand remained trapped between her soft thighs until Karina's body relaxed, that's when her legs fell outstretched.

"Master... I know you want to you want to fuck me, please fuck me," she begged between small sighs.

"You know I do, but I want you up first," you gave her little kisses on the cheek and one last peck on her lips before laying down next to her. Karina got up with some difficulty and knelt down next to you, and just like you did a few minutes ago, she grabbed the bottle of oil and began to put it all over your body. She focused especially on your cock, which she stroked with her palm a few times before taking it between her fingers and beginning to rub it up and down. Her handjob made you hard in just an instant, that gave her the green light to straddle your abdomen.

There you two were, both bodies slippery and shiny, and Karina looking fucking gorgeous on top of you. She flopped forward, her face on top of yours, and her tits flattened against your chest; she reached back with one of her hands, taking your cock in one hand to rub the tip of it against her slit several times, seconds later, she lined it up with her pussy and completely impaled on your flesh with just one thrust.

You both moaned at the same time, you from feeling the overwhelming warmth of her pussy walls around your cock and her from having a big chunk of meat shoved deep inside. Karina clung to your shoulders as best as she could because of how slippery your skin and hers were, and began to move her hips at a considerable pace on your cock, which was moving in and out of her pussy with a delicious and pleasurable ease. Your lips and hers met once more, with your tongues as the main protagonists this time; Karina's hands went from your shoulders to your neck, holding it gently while she moved her hips expertly; her tits were continually rubbing against your chest thanks to her movements, back and forth all the time. You had never had sex like that, but you could be sure that it was the best sexual experience of your life, the contact felt much more intimate and passionate, and the shiny touch on your skin added a sexier touch to your bodies.

"Stop, honey, you know what to do," you gasped as you pulled away from the kiss. Karina didn't say anything, she just got off of you and lay on her back with her legs open, you got up and positioned yourself between them, to put your cock back into her slippery pussy.

You leaned forward, and without thinking twice you began to fuck Karina as she deserved, making her tits bounce with each thrust you gave. You held her legs back, reaching even deeper into her wet pussy; she moaned louder, and your mind went into a trance-like state where you could only go higher and higher.

"Just like that master! Fuck me hard! Use me like the pretty toy that I am!" she begged between beautiful whimpers, while you gave her exactly what she asked for, strong and deep thrusts that almost didn’t pin her against her mattress.

The bed soon began to shake together because of the intense fucking you were giving her, Karina's tits were moving uncontrollably, and you decided to change position to be able to do something about it; you turned her body on her side from the hips down, and on her back from the hips up, that way you could grab her tits freely while you continued pouding her pussy.

"I'm going to cum inside you, are you okay with that, Karina?" in this new position your left hand was clinging to her waist, pressing her hard with your fingers, while the other hand was on her tits, either massaging them or pinching her nipples.

"You can cum anywhere on my body you want, master!" Karina's eyes were crystallized, about to cry because of how good she felt.

You stopped once more, this time to lie down next to her but without leaving her pussy, her back was now pressed against your chest, and your face was right next to hers; you wrapped one arm under her neck and the other between her tits, enveloping her in a warm, sticky embrace as you thrust frantically inside her. Karina turned her head to give you just a little kiss, because all she wanted was to look into your eyes while she cupped the side of your face with her hand.

"Fill me with your seed master, please... please!" she begged between moans and shrieks.

You didn't need her to tell you again. You went back to the trance of a few minutes ago, your right hand grabbed one of her tits and squeezed it hard, making it shake violently as a result of your thrusts. You don't know how much time passed, it could have been seconds or minutes, but your orgasm hit you like a category 5 hurricane. You moaned into Karina's ear, shooting your entire load into her silky cunt, but that only made the elf cum for the second time, now you two were prisoners of the spasms that mercilessly shook your bodies. Your thrusts became slow, not stopping until every little drop of your cum was perfectly planted inside her. She kept on overcoming her orgasm, so her pussy didn't let you go for a few seconds.

Silence took over the bedroom for a long time, in which you and Karina were perfectly coupled chest to back. You were the first to speak.

"You… you can't stay, right?" you asked innocently in a mutter.

Karina snapped her fingers, making the plastic blanket disappear under you, and not only that, making your bodies dry again. You couldn't do anything but thank her mentally, now you could feel the creamy softness of her skin. She turned around, and hugged you with one arm and one leg.

"I'm sorry but... no, I can't," she said with a sad smile, "when the sun starts to rise, I'll have to go home."

"Does that mean you can at least sleep over with me?" you took her chin with your fingers, giving her a little kiss.

"Yeah, sure master," she smiled, then kissed you back, "but hey, if you're still a good boy next year, I'll be back."

"Believe me, I'll be the best of boys every year to see you again," her blue eyes gave a nice sparkle again, that made you smile.

"Maybe I'll take you to my home for a visit, who knows?" she shrugged.

"To see the little sapling I just planted inside you already born?" you joked. Dumb.

"Yes, that's right," she said, more convinced than you'd like. You saw her frowning, and she simply closed her eyes, sinking her face on your neck, "rest well, master... until next year."

———————————

SPREN NOTES:

Well, now, this is the last smut of the year, finally! It is the Christmas gift that I leave you, since I will be a little inactive during these days for obvious reasons. I hope you enjoy it!

Don’t forget to support me on ko-fi if you want! https://ko-fi.com/lustspren.

#smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #kpop fanfic #karina smut #aespa smut #male reader insert #male reader smut #male reader

2K notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 5 months

Text

The Man with the One Eye

[ Amor • Aemond x Psyche • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, fingering, smut, angst, violence, trauma, mourning, mention of murders and victims ]

[ description: After she is attacked in a fair by a strange man and narrowly avoids death, her father the king decides that from now on she will be watched over by one of his ‘ghosts’, a assassin acting on his orders, wearing a black mask. The man follows her like a shadow, accompanied by their past, which keeps her awake at night. Gothic horror love story, angst, sexual tension, very dark Aemond. ]

This story is several requests combined into one: sworn protector x female; Amor x Psyche; Phantom of the Opera! Aemond x female. I took the liberty of creating a completely new story from this, having only elements of each of these requests.

Series & Characters Moodboard Lady Walford Moodboard Gothic & Horror Sensual Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

They stared at each other in silence for a long moment − she couldn't take her eyes off his face, his scar, the sapphire in his eye socket, his almost white hair, his fair skin, his sharply outlined cheekbones. She looked at him and felt her heart in her throat, trembling all over, terrified and distraught at the same time, feeling a tightening in her chest.

"Are you disappointed?" He asked coldly; she furrowed her brow, wondering what he meant. She felt a shudder run through her body, his gaze impatient and full of resentment, as if he thought her reaction was due not to who he was, but to what she had seen.

His face destroyed forever.

She parted her lips but couldn't get anything out, her heart filled with anguish and a sense that he had used her, that everything he had said was a lie, a premeditated act to get closer to her and her father, that for those weeks he had been mocking her in his heart.

She felt the tears run down her cheeks.

She just lay back on her bed, not looking at him any further, wanting to preserve whatever remnants of dignity she had left, the sheet underneath her cold, almost burning her naked skin.

She heard him swallow loudly and turn his face to the side, impatient, the fingers of his hands rubbing against each other in exasperation.

"Don't leave until I allow you to. You are to stay in your chamber." He said in a matter-of-fact, impassive, unobjectionable voice and put on his mask, placing the hood over his head after a moment.

She did not look at him − she heard his footsteps and then the sound of the door opening and closing.

She clenched her eyes shut and burst into sobs, snuggling into the white pillow, thinking only of the fact that he had used her, played with her, taken pleasure in her unconsciousness, made her his mere whore.

He hadn't planned to marry her.

He had simply mocked her, given her what she so desperately needed − the hope that there was another life for her, one in which she would find peace.

She covered herself with thick furs and lay like that without moving, wondering if he was afraid she would run to her father and tell him everything, expose him to him and destroy his whole plan. She laughed and ran her hand over her face at the thought that he knew her well enough to know she wouldn't do that.

That she had dreamed that day would come.

The day of judgement on her father.

She shuddered when she heard someone's loud scream, then another and another − she rose to sit down, covered in furs and looked with big eyes towards the door, her heart pounding like mad.

They will come for me, she thought.

They will come for me, they will rape me and they will cut my throat.

She could hear people running, men in armour, the sounds of fighting and swords slashing, but no one entered her chamber.

She dressed quickly in her nightgown and put on her blue matted robe, tying it around her waist − she sat on her bed and waited, praying with her eyes closed, thinking of her younger brother, her mother and that she might meet them soon, in this life or the next.

It seemed to her that long hours passed before complete silence came − it was late at night when the door to her chamber opened. She stood up, stepping back, terrified, looking at a black-haired man with a light stubble in a knight's attire, all dirty from blood, looking disapprovingly at her.

"The King wishes to see you, my Lady." He said coolly, and she swallowed loudly, tightening her fingers on her arms.

The King.

My Lady.

She nodded, knowing she could not refuse, and felt some kind of relief that it would all be over soon.

She walked barefoot through the corridors full of her father's dead servants, guards and soldiers, and tried not to look at them or think that she had known some of them for years, that they were innocent, that they had wives and children waiting for them.

She was ushered into the great hall where her king-father was conferring with his advisors − it was now full of men in armour. She saw with disbelief the lords who were her mother's relatives and several of her father's ghosts, their masks removed, looking at her with curiosity combined with disapproval.

She swallowed loudly and gasped, noticing a man with a scar on his face sitting in a beautifully decorated old wooden chair at the head of the table, the stone in his eye glinting ominously.

Vhagar.

"How dare you look straight into the face of your King, traitor!" Growled one of the men, wanting to approach her and grab her arm − she stepped away from him, the cold, disgruntled, harsh voice of the prince spreading through the chamber.

"Don't touch her."

The man stopped in mid-step with a loud clack of armour, looking at him in disbelief, pointing at her with his hand.

"She should be searched immediately, Your Grace. She may be hiding a dagger in her sleeves, we do not know what she will do." He said quickly − the Prince raised his hand, thus communicating that he had ordered the lord to be silent.

"Leave us alone. Immediately."

"But, my King…" Cole started, but he looked at him enraged, clearly losing patience.

There was something strange and intimate about the fact that she could see him now so perfectly, so clearly.

She felt a powerful shudder every time she heard his familiar voice, the same one that had whispered in her ear for the last few nights, rooting into her with the thrusts of his hips, that she belonged to him, his warm, sweet wife.

She swallowed loudly at the thought, looking directly at him as she heard one by one the men left the room, the door finally closing behind them with a loud clatter of wood.

They were silent for a long moment staring at each other − she heard him hum under his breath as he looked away, trailing his fingers across the table top.

"I understand your disappointment and your grief. In truth, I have procrastinated too long, but I did it with our future in mind. I wanted the takeover of the throne to proceed without…unnecessary disruption and, as if to put it, dramatism." He said softly, but there was a chill in the tone of his voice that she knew so well from the first days she had met him − she knew that he had distanced himself from her as much as she had distanced herself from him.

She looked at him wordlessly, unsure of what he wanted to hear.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" He asked with a hint of irritation, his brow furrowed, his healthy eye watching her expectantly, wanting to draw out any response from her.

"Is he dead?" She asked dispassionately, calmly, and heard him let out a loud puff of air through his nose, stretching out in his chair with a loud creak of wood.

"I killed him a few minutes after I left your chamber." He said softly, cocking his head to the side, intrigued as to what her reaction would be.

"How?" She asked immediately, his tongue licking his lower lip.

"I cut his throat." He muttered with satisfaction, a kind of relief and delight in his voice. She lowered her gaze only to look at him again a moment later.

"Good. What about my brother?"

"He's in a safe place."

"I want to see him."

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, his pupil narrowed.

"You'll see him once we get everything settled."

She blinked, swallowing loudly, wondering what else he might have wanted from her.

He tapped his pointing finger against his armrest a few times and hummed as if he was thinking hard about something − he was tense and clearly aiming for something, but she had no idea what he hoped for.

"We need to discuss the details of our nuptials and coronation in the coming days. They should take place as soon as possible." He said dryly, facing her in profile, gazing at the flames dancing in the fireplace. She felt her lips part slightly in disbelief, her heart beginning to pound like mad.

What?

"I don't expect your pity. I will not tell anyone about what has happened between us, I will spare myself this humiliation. Send me back to the monastery or wherever you see fit." She replied, feeling only weariness, only regret, only emptiness.

He looked at her in disbelief, as if she had completely lost her mind. She saw his jaw clenched in rage, his hand on his armrest tightened into a fist.

"Are you that disgusted with me?"

She laughed involuntarily at his words, fury shining in his eyes, he thought she was mocking him.

"With you? I'm disgusted with myself." She said touching her hand to her chest. "I believed you like a naive little child. Aren't you tired of lying?"

He looked at her breathing loudly through his nose − he rose suddenly with a loud creak of the chair against the stone floor and after a moment he was already in front of her, towering over her, his large hand clamped on her slender neck. She grabbed his wrist, looking at him pleadingly − he was panting loudly, leaning over her face.

"Lying?" He hissed, pressing her body against the table behind her, his free hand gripping the fabric of her robe and lifting it higher.

She squirmed, distraught and terrified as his fingers pressed between her thighs, beginning to tease her with sure, circular motions − she parted her lips, trying to catch her breath, her body shuddered. She felt her insides throb, reacting involuntarily to his familiar, longed-for touch.

He licked his lips with his tongue as he heard his movements begin to be accompanied by the quiet click of her moisture, his hand from her neck rose to her cheeks and clamped down on them forcing her to look at him the entire time he touched her.

"That's what you call a lie? Hm?" He growled, breathing loudly, gathering the wetness that flowed out of her with his fingers, only to slide two of them deep inside her.

She mewled helplessly, involuntarily spreading her thighs in front of him, moaning quietly when she felt him begin to deliberately rub the point inside her that was sending shivers through her.

"Don't you want this? Do you want me to stop? Come on, fucking get it out of you." He hissed, grabbing her by her hair, pressing his forehead against hers, sliding his fingers in and out of her in a quick, intense rhythm − she clenched her hands on the material of his leather tunic, panting loudly, no longer knowing for herself what she wanted and what she didn't.

"− ask your husband, tell him what you want − come on, you know I'll give you fucking everything −" He growled with some kind of desperation from which she drew in the air louder, her walls clenching on his fingers − she moaned, feeling the heat, wishing only that he would tell her that she was not part of his revenge.

"− please, husband − please, tell me you didn't plan this −" She muttered, she heard him sigh in relief when she called him what he wanted, his fingertips deliberately began rubbing the point between her muscles more intensely. He closed his eyes and chuckled under his breath in disbelief.

"− planned? − good gods −" He murmured lowly, looking down at her again, his thumb running over her hot cheek, her hips involuntarily responding to his every move, his tips digging into her fleshy muscles, increasing the pressure, making her squirm loudly as she looked up at him with her lips parted. "− I almost lost everything − because of you − for you − do you understand? − say you understand −"

He commanded and she nodded her head quickly, looking at him pleadingly, her hand rose to his scarred cheek and ran over it in a tender, gentle motion. She heard his weak groan, his soft, moist lips brushed hers uncertainly, then again and again until she threw her arms around his neck and they clung to each other like mad, their tongues and teeth clashing in a sticky, wet dance.

"− please −" She mumbled into his mouth, her hand sliding lower to the hard bulge in his breeches, feeling him tremble all over. "− please, husband −"

He slipped his fingers out of her and undid the buckle of his tunic, her hands reached quickly to the tying of his breeches, lowering them slightly, his manhood all swollen and throbbing.

She felt him catch her around her waist with one hand and sit her on the table in front of him, pulling her robe up − she spread her thighs in front of him and moaned sweetly, clasping her hands over his cheeks, feeling the fat head of his length forced its way inside her.

With one confident thrust he slid all the way inside her and then began to root into her with quick, sharp movements, their bodies slapping against each other loudly − she was so wet there that he slipped into her with ease. They embraced again and kissed greedily, she moaned loudly feeling his tongue deep down her throat.

"− you're fucking leaking − that's what you call lying? −" He hissed out between deep, brutal thrusts, his hands clamped tightly on her back embracing her tightly. She quivered before him, responding with her hips to his movements, feeling her walls clench around him at his words, his familiar, craved scent filled her nose, every time the tips of their tongues licked she could taste his saliva again.

"− you're mine −" He exhaled, clamping one hand in her hair, pressing his forehead against hers, rooting into her so fast and deep that they were out of breath.

"− my doom − my wife − my Queen −" He mumbled with some kind of tenderness, looking at her with his lips slightly parted. She felt a tightening in her throat and tears under her eyelids at his words − she grasped his cheeks in her hands and kissed him, feeling that a few more of his thrusts and she would experience the relief she yearned for.

"− fill me, my King − please, please, please −" She mumbled, hearing his low, surprised moan at her words, both of them were now just aggressively pounding their bodies against each other, pursuing their fulfilment − she threw her head back and sobbed as she felt the wonderful, hot pleasure shake her body at last.

"− yes, my King, yes −" She panted dreamily, her walls began to squeeze steadily around him, with a few helpless, deep thrusts he struggled to prolong what was inevitable and came inside her with a loud sigh of relief, pressing his welted face against hers, breathing loudly along with her, his length twitching and pulsing inside her.

For a moment they simply stared at each other − it was the first time she had seen him so close, his eyebrows, his eyelashes, his shining, healthy eye and the sapphire gleaming in his scarred eye socket. She ran her fingers gently over it, felt him flinch, felt that he didn't know himself what he thought of it.

"− I'm going to wear an eye patch every day −" He explained feigning indifference, as if expressing understanding and presuming that was what she expected him to do. She moved closer and placed a kiss on his scar, felt him tense up all over and swallowed loudly.

"− not in front of me − not in front of your wife − my husband will never hide his face from me again −" She whispered, snuggling into him and he just embraced her, pressing his face against the hollow of her neck, drawing in the scent of her with his nose, his soft manhood still pulsing gently deep inside her. He sighed heavily, as if a huge weight had fallen from his shoulders.

"I have a wedding gift for you."

____

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