#THEY NEED TO MANHANDLE ME WITH THAT SWORD. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

escelia · 1 year

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I took a prompt from @ghostreblogging and ran away with it. I have other parts in progress that I'd be willing to post if you guys are into it. I'm not saying it's good, but I definitely had fun with this and got wild with the next part.

Danny Fenton-Wayne: Big Brother

To say Danny was excited to be a big brother was an understatement. He was so ready to finally be the older one, in a position where he was allowed to be protective but not overbearing. Jazz had trained him well for this. And Damian was just the perfect little brother to him, though he was sure that was weird to everyone else. It was so refreshing to have a sibling that didn't treat him like glass. He reminded him a lot of a smaller, angrier, less tech oriented Skulker. And it was great seeing the others' confused but entertained expressions.

"I will slit your throat while you sleep," Damian had glared at his new big brother. "You are not my big brother!" He insisted. Danny thought it was so cute! Skulker would love him. The other Wayne's had looked mortified as though the comment would scare Danny away. Really, the threat was weak. Slitting Danny's thought wouldn't be nearly as effective as Damian was hoping, and it wasn't even that creative. But Danny was a good big brother, and rough housing was a great way to let off steam and get in exercise, so Danny just laughed and responded,

"You could sure try!"

Damian lunged at him in rage. The kid was fast and efficient; he'd give him that. But Danny had faced things much worse than a 10 year old with a penchant for violence. He dodged and snagged the back of his shirt, scruffing him like an angry kitten.

"Damian! No! Bad!" Tim scolded. "Danny, I would tell you not to take it to heart, but he really will stab you, so please be careful?"

"Stab me? That's adorable!" Damian squirmed in his hold while Danny manhandled him into a hug. This didn't really count as being overbearing if it didn't last too long, right? Besides, with Damian fussing so loudly about it, he was sure this was exactly how Jazz felt when she smothered him. It was amazing. Being a big brother was the best.

He eventually let Damian go and he sped away like Pariah Dark was personally nipping at his heels. No doubt to go plan Danny's demise. He was kind of looking forward to it actually.

~~•○•~~

Dinner that night was eventful. He'd learned that Duke was a meta with an ability that affected his sight. Not that he'd outright said so, but Danny could tell. He also gathered a few inklings about his family being the freakin Bat Brigade? They were all vigilantes, and they thought he was some normal civilian! So was Damian being protective of his family in the face of some stranger? That was understandable. Respectable even. Jazz would have said that he was a newcomer in their space and that he needed to respect that. He wouldn't pry if they didn't want him to. Across the table, his baby brother waved a fork at him menacingly. Danny snickered.

"Damian…" Bruce warned. Dick tutted at him from his seat.

"Sorry about him, Danny. You can just ignore him," Dick assured. Danny found he really liked Dick too, what with his similar penchant for puns.

"Thanks, but I think I can handle him. He's what, 10 years old?"

"I'm clearly 12, you imbecile!" In the next moment, Damian was scrambling across the table embedding his fork into the back of Danny's chair, but Danny was no longer in it. Damian hadn't even seen him move if his stunned blinking was anything to go by.

"Trust me, I would not be good for your diet," Danny joked.

~~•○•~~

Danny had gotten a great idea when several days later Damian rushed him with a whole sword. Even as Phantom, Danny was never familiar with traditional weapons. He'd always wanted to learn, but knew that with Fentons it just wasn't a safe idea. So when Duke came running to reprimand Damian and the child saw an opening, Danny redirected the blade down and out of his hand, offering it back with a question about lessons. Perhaps he could bond with Damian by letting him teach him about his favorite weapon.

Their "training," as Damian put it, was going well. Danny genuinely felt like he was learning a lot from him as well as about him. And even with his ghostly enhanced speed the brat was keeping him on his toes. When Damian nicked him with his blade for the time Danny had been so proud. He knew he wasn't easy to hit.

"Say cheese!" Danny exclaimed, shoving his uninjured cheek up against Damian's for a photo. It had turned out amazing, with Danny pointing to the oozing scratch on his face while Damian scowled at him for enjoying himself.

"Please desist. You're taking all the fun out of trying to kill you." Danny just laughed

~~•○•~~

Damian's new brother was just weird. And apparently Damian was the only one who really knew it. At first he'd thought the fool was underestimating him, but boy was he mistaken. He was a civilian, right? Then why could he not land a hit on Fenton even without the interference of his inferior siblings? The wretched thing was able to snatch him mid air and wrestle him into a hug like it was nothing. He was a professionally trained assassin! This was embarrassing! The others thought Fenton just had decent reflexes and a lack of self preservation instincts, but Damian knew better.

The day Fenton disarmed him quickly went from infuriating to intriguing. His brothers had admonished him for attempting murder again, but Daniel had stood up for him and handed his precious blade back to him, going as far as asking if he was willing to give him lessons. Tt, at least one of his brothers could tell he was a superior warrior. He obliged, eager to show off his skills with a sword. And Daniel wasn't actually bad at it per se, but it was clear he wasn't versed in swordplay. After a few sessions with Daniel, he noticed something odd. Not bad, but odd. The room was always cooler when they sparred, and he found that he didn't often overheat. Daniel was a quick learner and very light on his feet. So light, in fact, that he sometimes seemed to float. And Damien would swear on his grandfather's blade that when Daniel got serious, his eyes would flash a bright, toxic green. Damian was determined to get to the bottom of this, and because he was, in fact, the smartest of the Wayne's, he would do it on his own!

Turns out, he didn't have to try that hard.

Damian woke with a start at the knock on his door. He didn't have patrol so he'd tried to turn in early for the night. Grumbling, he went to see who it was. He swore, if it was Drake and he wasn't sleeping even though he'd been kicked off the schedule for sleep deprivation, he would strangle him. He cracked the door to see glowing green eyes. But Danny didn't seem irrationally angry like Todd did when the Pit Rage consumed him.

"Can I come in please?" Danny pleaded. "I had a nightmare and don't wanna be alone, but the others are out and Tim needs his sleep…"

Damian sighed and opened the door for Danny to come in. He sat at the foot of the bed and curled his knees to his chest.

"I don't know what you expect me to do for you. I'm not some counselor." He closed the door and crossed his arms with an annoyed huff.

"I don't need a counselor, I just need my brother." Danny's tired smile was soft.

"Why? I've been told I don't have a comforting personality." Damain took a seat next to him.

"I don't need to be coddled, I'm not a baby. I really appreciate that you're straightforward and rough toward me. I'm traumatized, but like, I'm not gonna break, ya know?"

"You… like that I'm rude to you?" This had to be the first time anyone had ever said that to him.

"Do you know why I'm here? Why I was taken in?" When Damian shook his head Danny continued. "My parents were always pretty careless when it came to raising my sister and I. Their science always came first. We had to grow up pretty fast. And once you grow up, it sucks to be treated like a kid again. It's what got my sister into psychology, and she was constantly trying to psychoanalyze me. Well, I'd had a lab accident that… changed me. When my parents found out, they vivisected me. Bruce found out and got me out of there, but Jazz was already 18 and in college so she couldn't come with me."

Damian was horrified. Even the League with their harsh rules and cruel nature would never do something like that. Even so, it did explain a lot, and Daniel seemed to know how to handle his trauma. An accident in a lab would definitely explain Daniel's more meta-like features as well. He wondered if his father knew, but figured he didn't because the boy had been very secretive about any abilities he might have gained.

"So to summarize, your parents were atrocious to you and now instead of being coddled or analyzed, you prefer to spend your time with people trying to stab you? I tried to kill you." He pointed out.

"Yea, well so has everyone else in my family at one point or another. It's sort of like a rite of passage and you're the only one that's done it," Danny smirked and nudged Damian. The younger boy could admit he found the humor in that, dark as it may be. "Besides, you get it: not wanting to be underestimated or looked down on just because you're young even though you've been through hell." Damian couldn't deny that. Maybe they were more alike than he had anticipated. Interacting with him didn't grate on his nerves like the others did at least. He sighed.

"So, what now Daniel? We sit in silence until you feel safe enough to go back to your own room?"

"I strongly prefer Danny for reasons I'm not willing to talk about yet, but I get the feeling this is as good as I'm gonna get, huh?"

"Correct."

"Well then, do you mind if I call my dog? He's a good boy, I promise," Danny pleaded.

"I do like the company of animals. I didn't know you had a dog, I haven't seen a new one on the grounds." Danny took this as a go-ahead to summon Cujo.

"I don't take him many places, he can get rowdy and protective sometimes. But I'm positive he'll love you." He let out a sharp whistle and the green ghost puppy phased into the room from under the door. He trotted over to the boys, tongue flopping as he did. He pounced excitedly on Danny before giving Damian a thorough sniff and deeming his presence safe and acceptable. He happily let the boy scratch his belly.

"He's… uh, green. What breed is he?"

"The ghost kind," Danny replied sadly. The implications were heartbreaking. "My accident turned me half-ghost so now I have a ghost puppy," he said as if that explained everything. "You uh, won't tell the others about this, right?"

Damian tilted his head in thought while he scratched Cujo behind the ears. He'd definitely want more details on what exactly Daniel meant by "ghost," but for now, he felt pride at being the one family member Daniel actually felt comfortable talking to. He could lord that over his siblings later.

"We'll, you're no longer in any danger, and your past is none of their business unless you want it to be, so I don't don't see a reason to tell them."

Danny grinned at his little brother. He knew Damian would be his favorite! He already knew he would do anything for him.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #fanfiction #crossover #damian wayne #batfam #big brother danny au #dannys a good big brother #he learned all he knows from jazz #damian respects the crap out of danny for not treating him like a child all the time #but like he also wants to snuggle his brother

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amarias-yandere-blog · 8 months

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"Run if you can, Darling. I will find you even among the galaxy."

-Yandere!Blade x Reader (Honkai Star Rail)

-‼️Warnings include: murder, forced affection, manhandling, physical violence, unreciprocated contact, other general yandere themes‼️

Special thanks to Myla on my discord server for reading and commenting on any mistakes for me!

Please: reblog with proper tags

You do not remember when you met him. You don't remember how. But you do remember why: a goddamn coffee shop. Craving something that would be able to keep you awake long enough to finish your rough draft for college, you headed out at one in the morning. A man with a beanie, a face mask, and sunglasses caught your attention as you ordered.

And as they say, curiosity killed the cat.

You were like a beacon in the darkest night- a wonderful drop of color in the grayest walls and dark navy seas. He grew curious about you, a seemingly innocent and tired person who was little more than a drop in the ocean of people he'd met.

But the way you walked up to him with the sweetest smile and that tired, but determined voice- oh, perhaps he had been stricken with a far more powerful disease than mara. Or perhaps he'd mistaken your curiosity for a bit of affection. All he knew was that your eyes held an innocent look in them.

Call him a sadist. Because he wanted to take that innocence for his own.

The second meeting was in the nearby library. You chalked it up to coincidence. He chalked it up to meticulous research, preparation, and an obsession to see your innocent light once again.

Things eventually developed. You fell for him. He was rather quiet, but he looked at you like no one else did in a long time. At least, from what you could see above the dark-rimmed sunglasses he wore.

The first time you actually saw his face was in an alleyway. You had accidentally run into some thugs. He was far more aggressive than you thought he needed to be, but his vermilion eyes and the way his lips were pushed into a thin, unamused line were... well, you could not lie. They were captivating.

The thugs, bleeding from his curious black sword riddled with golden cracks, ran as he walked towards you- towering over you with one hand still on his blade and the other resting on the wall behind you.

"That was foolish of you, Y/n," he scolded before bending down, stealing your precious lips for his own. His eyes never left your form as you gasped in shock at his boldness. And he only grew bolder- pushing your face up so that he had a better angle to steal your breath.

Your savior had completely taken you for his own. And you were fine with that, grabbing a hold of his neck for support as he took everything he could. It was like a dark ocean had enveloped your warm light at that moment, though you didn't know it.

That point on, he would disappear from your sight for weeks, if not months. Sometimes he would come to your door covered in blood but without a scratch on his body.

It was during one of those days when he had disappeared without a trace that you figured out who he was. You learned his name.

Blade. Stellaron Hunter. Dangerous. It was recommended that you run if you saw him. That night in the alleyway became crystal clear to you. He was so skilled with the sword. He could have killed those people. No- you realized with a tear running from your face that he had. They hadn't run away. They had bled out and died while he covered your eyes from the sight using his body.

Slowly taking away your innocence. Your light. Claiming your love for himself. His vermilion eyes were a flag- all too deep and clear and that is why he hid them from you for so long.

In a panic, you decided to take the initiative and move as far away as possible. You quit your job, you moved across the world, you even threw your phone away at the drop of a dime. You were scared. And rightly so. Perhaps you would have escaped from his gaze if you had learned this from the first time you saw his face.

But it was just far too late now.

When you got out of the house, it was quiet in the apartment you shared with three other people. Two girls, one guy, and you. When you came into the living room, you were met with a gorey sight. A man stood tall, his sword hugged tight against his chest as he closed his eyes and waited patiently for a new chapter to start.

Bodies lay scattered across the room, their blood dripping from the ceiling and the walls, soaking the floor, the couch- but not a drop was on him. There was a cruel, cold wind blowing through the room.

"Bad choice, Y/n." The man suddenly spoke, all too aware of your sweet presence in the room. "Now three people have paid your price." He opened his eyes to glare at you, the sword disappearing from his grip. His hands made a wide gesture, as though inviting you to hug him. But instead, you stepped away.

"G-get away from me, Blade." You tried to sound confident. His lips curled into a smile before he put a hand on his head, laughing darkly at your puny display.

"Run." One word. One sentence and your heart dropped. "Run as fast as you can, little one, and try to escape from my heart and mind- you won't. Even if you fly to the end of the stars you will never outrun me. I will always catch you. So run, little one, give me a chase!"

His words set something inside of you off. You sprinted, slamming open doors and running down stairs with no particular purpose in mind- no destination. Just. Run.

As you ran down flights of stairs, you could hear the maniacal laughter from Blade. He sounded as though he was in no rush. You had, after all, gone to a place where he was unknown and unrecognized as a killer. He was playing the long game- letting you tire yourself out as you dashed across streets and down nasty roads, passing through large swaths of crowds and even going through narrow lanes in a rush to lose him.

But you burned out. You felt your knees get weak and your bare feet turned sore and red from the run. You gasped for air, holding your chest and resting against a wall as you took in deep gulps of air that fueled your run.

Your throat burned from the dryness of the air, and your lungs struggled to keep up with the demand you gave them.

"Is that the best you can do?" Blade asked with a laugh as he walked closer towards you. Even your effort to shake him off was in vain. You gulped down saliva and turned to run again- but your feet faltered, betrayed you. You slipped on your own blood, landing on your chest with a small shriek as loud footsteps clapped down the alley.

"Poor thing. So weak, so innocent and tired that they can't even run away." Blade mocked, pulling you up by the wrist.

He pushed you into the wall, forcing your body to move in such a way that you leaned against him, looking at him with fear in your eyes. His hands roamed, across your arms and down to your hips before pulling your head in such a way that he could once again steal your breath.

But this time around you didn't want it. You tried to pull away, kicking at his knees and pulling his arms away from your body. You elbowed him and screamed and scratched his face with your nails as you bit his tongue in self defense.

He released you for only a moment, turning you back around and pushing you up against the wall, one of his hands on your wrists to keep them above your head. The other slapped your face, his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed against each other.

You watched in horror as the scratches healed in seconds, and he stuck out his tongue to prove that your damage had been far less than 'temporary'. He smirked.

"Any more cute attempts at fighting back?" He asked, shoving his face into your personal space, forcing you to look into his eyes. Your arms were growing numb now. You trembled. "I guess not. Looks like the chase is over, Darling. Now..." he leaned into you, whispered in your ear with a smile on his face. His free hand pinned your hips into the wall. "You are all mine."

And then he kissed your ear, his lips dragging across your face until they met your mouth. "Kiss me." He snarled. "Be a good little pet for me."

You never graduated from that college.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere blog #amaria writes #yandere imagines #x reader #blade x you #blade x reader #blade honkai #hsr blade #hsr #hsr yandere #hsr blade x reader #yandere blade #hsr x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #pet names #Amaria's Basement

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kiwanopie · 1 year

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aki brainrot is so real

oh my god yesss honestly that gives me a reason to finally post this

Favorite.

cw: suggestive. power dynamics. manhandling. dry humping. mention of breeding. 1.3k

You’re his favorite. Is what they tell you.

And you can agree to that - to a certain extent. He’s the closest with you out of the core group, values your opinions and your judgment when on excursions, trusts you with the kind of genuinity you would expect from someone who sees you as more than just a coworker. He’s looking in your direction more often than not. Always keeping a close eye on you ~ and your interactions, and the way you represent him as a leader.

You’re his favorite.

The cold ivory of his desk turns your cheek mushy. “H-Hayakawa-senpai-“

Aki presses enough weight on the side of your head to have your skin squeaking against the neat polishing when he adjusts his feet behind you. He’s wary of your neck, of course. He doesn’t push too hard to hurt too badly, but he’s firm as he keeps you bent before him. Pert little ass pressed against his belt buckle as he reaches for the cigarette between his lips and blows out cooly.

“Hm?” You watch him tap the head of it in his ashtray. “Oh. Not Aki this time?”

So, you stepped out of line.

Which, in your defense, isn’t unheard of behavior for cadets in your position. You’re still new, the public safety program is still big and scary - and incredibly taxing. Lots of new hunter’s blow their top in one way or another after their first few commissions. Hell, you have to talk Kobeni off a ledge nearly every other scouting. But the public safety committee has always been understanding of the mental toll it takes on the people who serve it. Even Aki isn’t so cruel as to punish you every time you step out of your place.

It’s just that this time, “Where’s that big voice you were using just now? You wanted me off my fucking high horse, right? Now I’m listening.”

You may have overdone it this time.

It’s his fault for denying your request to be contracted with the Compulsion Devil. It’s hypocritical that he’d tell you ‘No’ about something like that, especially when he has that stupid sword. The terms were clear. She’ll lend you her power and in exchange you trade her a beat of your heart for every second you use it. They’re honestly pretty mundane terms in comparison to a few of the agents who work here, including himself; so you didn’t get what the big idea was if you only used her sparingly.

“No. Stop asking.”

“But you aren’t even giving me a reason?”

“Do I need to? I’m still your superior. If I say ‘No’ then that’s what it is.”

“But it’s not like-“

“Do I have to instill a punishment?” Aki cuts you off to beat his carton of cigarettes against his palm. “I shouldn’t have to tell you the same thing twice.”

You grate your teeth as he carelessly lights one in his mouth. “Unless the next thing you have to say is ‘Yes, Hayakawa-senpai.’ Then be quiet. I don’t wanna hear about it again.”

If the way your cheek rubs raw against the shiny finish of his work desk should mean anything, what you said was definitely not akin to ‘Yes, Hayakawa-senpai.’ Or anything remotely close.

“You- You’re not being fair!”

The way his crotch presses firmer into your little pencil skirt inclines you to shiver. “Yeah? So, tell me about it.”

“Himeno-“ You choke. He must’ve put out his cigarette cause now there’s a heavy hand in the middle of your back. “Himeno-senpai and Kobeni, and… everybody else in this sector all have serious contracts! Why is it that when I ask-“

You squeak when Aki bends his knees to hook himself just under the cuff of your ass - and uses it as leverage to squash you into the desk even further. Pressing against your back till you’re all but presenting on him like a bitch in heat, and even more so when he straightens his back and leans some of his weight on you.

There’s a glimpse of him in your peripheral. A flinted expression, more blank than anything, if not for the way his eyebrows cinch in concentration. “I don’t remember being the boss of Himeno-senpai and everybody else in this sector? I do, though, remember hiring an air headed brat just under a year ago.”

He sucks in a hiss and a few muttered curse words when you start to squirm against him. “Throwing a tantrum in front of the guy writing your checks doesn’t seem like a great idea if you think about it.”

“And being a massive hypocrite is?”

His fingers press groves into your scalp.

You’re his favorite. You surmise. Which is why he gets away with treating you like this. Why you’re constantly under his scrutiny, and why he punishes you the harshest when you mouth off like this. Obviously that doesn’t stop you from doing it. But his coarse fingers seem reserved for you and you alone more often than not. Candidly hands on whenever you step out of line, and making a hot spot on your back as he keeps you arched over his desk.

You push back against him to keep your balance on your toes, which earns you a hard smack on the back of your thigh. If the way he blows out a pinched breath should mean anything, you’re not the only one who’s been wound up tight. “Why do you need the damn contract anyway? What about your contract with the Coercion Devil?”

“It’s not enough,” Aki’s jaw tightens when you pout. “I’m gonna need more than one measly contract to get one up on the Gun Devil!”

“As if you can do that if you’re dead. What happens when you overdo it on that contract and your heart stops?”

“If it means getting us closer to killing that bastard then why should I care?”

Your cheek pulls tackily off the wood with a crackle.

It’s brief, the few seconds he has you pulled up by your hair but it’s enough to make you yip at the suddenness of it. Lifted off the table and snatched in his direction, he belts you to his chest with the crook of his arm secured over your neck. It’s all you can do but reach for it as he leans himself closer to your ear.

So close that his warm breath makes you to shutter. “Don’t say stupid shit like that. Ever. - I know you’re not dumb enough to actually believe something like that.”

“It’s the truth.” You argue. “What’ll be the point of any of this?”

Aki stays silent a brooding second.

And then he’s squishing you against his desk.

You heave out a chunk of air at the feeling of most of his weight suddenly toppling over you. Only giving when you whine under your breath but he’s still hovering just above, still pressing his pelvis against your skirt, still talking over your head.

You suppose you can only ignore that bulge in his slacks for so long. “I’ve been thinking of giving you a reason to quit the committee. You think knocking you up would do that?”

You kiss your teeth. “Don’t be a dick.”

“Don’t be an idiot then. I’m not letting you go out and kill yourself for no reason.”

“But-“

“You’re not making the contract.” He avows. “If I even think you’re going out there to make it behind my back, I’ll turn you into a housewife.”

You blow out an exasperated breath.

But he’s not done - Far from it actually. You realize that when he’s kicking one of your heels with his dress shoes and coaxing your legs apart. Planting his hands on the side of you as support and digging his belt into your skirt.

“Now,” He pulls his carton of cigarettes out of his pocket. “How do you think you should be punished?”

How he punishes you in particular.

reblog to “make a contract” with the compulsion devil

#every time i look at him i can feel myself getting worse i wanna get on his nerves so badly #aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #aki x y/n #aki x you #aki hayakawa smut #aki chainsaw man #csm aki #aki hayakawa #aki <3 #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man

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judasgot-it · 3 months

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i would like to know what hunting dogs would do when they want reader sits on their lap?👀

I am so late to this request but in honor of learning that Tecchou is 6 foot today.... mwah

Scenario: What they do when they want reader to sit on their lap (Jouno, Tachihara, Tecchou) Also slight NSFW elements but like it's mostly jokes. Thought I'd let y'all know ahead of time.

Jouno

He's not one for physical touch usually since it overstimulates him, but once and a while he likes to be warm and would definitely be some weird cheesy guy to use it as a sort of intimidation tactic. Like mafia men who pet cats.

If it's in any sort of public setting, it's because he is well aware you're hot and sexy (everyone who reads this is, because I said so) and loves to cuck people sometimes. He's probably into some shit like that idk

He probably does it in the most obnoxious way possible too - you'd think you're in some dark romantasy with the way he's acting. It's all a part of some evil scheme to piss off some dude that he's mildly annoyed by

Definitely does it once and a while though whenever you're in fancy af places. Dude likes to be praised and has a lot of money, don't tell me he wouldn't love to have someone pretty in his lap calling him nice things

Especially if you're his partner, he wants to show off that he won - he's blind, not stupid. He knows people are jealous.

Pulls you in by the waist and talks as if it's the first time he ever met you. He'll pull out some poetry and shit while tracing your hipbones, he does know how to make you feel enamored.

At home? In private? He probably likes his space but when he wants to have you in his lap, he just does it.

What are you? Too busy for your boyfriend? Nuh-uh. He just takes you. Are you going to punch a gift horse in the mouth?

Jouno has a big ego sometimes, thinking his mere touch is so special.

Although I think it's less of a physical want for touch and more of a security thing. He needs to know that you're there and aren't going to disappear from him

I think sometimes he is a little insecure and he just needs a hug, but it's hard to ask so he just. Pulls you into his chair and buries his face in your shoulder

I also headcanon that he gets cold easily, so once and a while he gives in and just uses you as his portable heater

Tecchou

Is all up in your space all the time, doesn't even realize how it might look to others.

Touching you, kissing you, practically glued to your side and staring at your face. If he's not on a mission, he is obsessed with you no matter what.

If you can't sit next to each other he'll just have you sit on his lap - he has big thighs, he makes a better seat anyway. Or he'll sit on the bench and let you sit on him if it's too cold for you - he's a gentleman, even if it means freezing his own ass off.

Isn't super handsy like Jouno is, he just wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady and hold you close to him.

Definitely manhandles you though, makes you feel like you weigh nothing when he just casually holds you in one arm like a cat

He's more casual about it, but that's because PDA can be pretty easy for him. As long as he can have one hand on his sword, he's happy and feels safe

At home he can sit like that forever, but that's also because when he's on his time off he becomes the laziest dog around sometimes. If he's allowed, he would just cuddle up with you and do nothing but sleep

Has fallen asleep with you in his lap, which was cute but also you both avoid making it a habit since he is heavy and will hold onto you so tightly as if you're going to drown or something.

The best option he has is to pull you into his lap and spend time with you like that, even if all you're doing is reading a book or mindlessly scrolling through tiktok

He just wants to feel you there, since he spends so much time away from you

Admittedly he is most likely to get carried away from simple cuddling to other things...

Tachihara

He only asks when y'all are alone - like REALLY alone. He is used to his mafia image, and even when he doesn't have to keep it up at headquarters, he's scared of being teased.

Likes to hold you in his lap and just talk about each others day, it's one of his favorite forms of cuddling since he can just hold you with him while you're both in the office

He's a little lanky, he's built but he is shifting around a lot and it's hard for him to have you on his lap for so long. He doesn't have the biggest ass in the world (unlike some other dogs on this list)

Like Jouno, is really touchy though - he kisses you, teases your skin, and plays with your hands

He wants to enjoy the time he is spending with you, and if he could he would memorize your entire body with just his fingertips

It's almost like a massage when he does it, tracing your thighs in little patterns while you quickly fill in forms you both needed to do yesterday. He's enjoying his time, what can he say?

At home?

Dude is having you on his lap while you both play games or do your own thing. Parallel play

He want his time, but he doesn't want to lose time with you

It's a compromise, so he can sit on his computer playing PalWorld while you scroll your phone

It's warm, so y'all have the AC down and a blanket on just to enjoy each others company

Almost like a casual date lol

Idk if these were good tbh, I feel like they're very general? IDK

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #tecchou x reader #bsd x y/n #tecchou bsd #jouno x reader #tachihara x you #tachihara x reader #tachihara michizou x reader #tachihara x y/n #jouno x you #jouno x y/n

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general-cyno · 7 months

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it's dressrosa time for more zolu rambles. there were some really good and funny bits like zoro being (unsurprisingly) on board with luffy's idea of fighting the emperors

luffy charging right after zoro when he gets his sword stolen bc it looks fun (though he ends up in the tournament instead)

zoro getting absolutely sidetracked from his very important mission of going back to the sunny to help the others bc he saw luffy participating in the tournament, then again when he saw luffy in person (he wanted to be invited too!)

luffy happily and without hesitation agreeing to zoro's crazy plan for the lift

cheers to luffy's casual, unwavering faith in zoro!

zoro just letting luffy do whatever he wants and manhandle him around with a simple "yeah sure where we going" compared to law who is decidedly Not Even Remotely Used to this kind of treatment

their gremlin braincell once again shining through as they both laugh at pica (much to law's continuous exasperation)

I also liked how confidently luffy decided and told zoro he'd continue ahead while zoro chose to stay behind and deal with pica, yet again demonstrating luffy's casual but firm trust that zoro can handle things and protect others in his stead, while he takes care of the biggest threats. zoro's own taunting and smug "our captain wants nothing to do with a pebble like you, so you have to make do with me" at pica was good too lol.

when zoro finally defeats pica and side characters, in awe of his strength, are baffled that someone so powerful is luffy's "henchman"? also peak.

two other things I enjoyed, albeit not necessarily involving zoro and luffy directly, were:

- zoro taking the lead, attempting to stop doflamingo's birdcage by force and doing so by asking for ppl's help (showcasing his willingness to guide as much as rely on others when it's needed) which drove folks to actively follow him in a similar fashion to how they tend to do with luffy. in a way, zoro's determination uplifted ppl's spirits + the whole thing helped keep civilians and others safe while luffy recuperated enough to finish off doflamingo. it's no wonder zoro was one of the few straw hats to stay behind in dressrosa, since that's the kind of feat someone like him (as luffy's first mate/second in command) can accomplish. really highlights zoro's role in the crew and why luffy's belief in zoro's reliability, of him being able to handle dire situations and protect ppl on his own without luffy having to worry abt/over him is a recurring and important part of their overall relationship. usopp desperately asking zoro to save him back during the pica ordeal and hugging him afterwards in relief as other characters thanked him too, was a funny and sweet way to acknowledge this as well.

- this interaction between luffy and rebecca:

can't say whether it was intentional or not, (probably not since these chapters are wildly apart from each other) but it made me think of luffy and zoro's first meeting, and how luffy ultimately decided to make zoro part of his crew after he asked to be fed the stomped riceballs and for luffy to tell rika they were delicious. these two are so very similar on a fundamental level, even if they still retain certain differences and distinct approaches depending on the situation, and it was nice to see another reminder of it. both luffy and zoro are, at their core, strong and kind characters (though in a curiously selfish manner) who don't hesitate to acknowledge and repay the kindness they're offered in turn. imo it's cool how these shared traits have allowed them to understand and stay alongside each other to this point.

edit: forgot to mention but sabo entrusting the crew with luffy's safety and giving them luffy's vivre card (handing it to zoro specifically) as zoro fondly remarks how he resembled ace back in alabasta was just. really really good as well. esp when you consider how much the crew loves luffy, and what zoro himself has done to protect him.

#zolu #long post #tp #yes it's that annoying mf on the zolu tag again with his manga rambles hello #now I'm off to cry abt sabo corazon and law on my priv again see ya again for the next arc post #jay reads op

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cinnbar-bun · 5 months

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Zoro Birthday HCs!

Rating: SFW + NSFW hcs (NSFW under read more)

A/n: these were posted during his birthday im only just posting it here now haha.

GN reader and pronouns.

Read at my ao3 here!

SFW

It’s Zoro’s birthday! Yay! And that means lots of celebrating.

Or, in Zoro’s case, it means more napping and drinking.

Yes, it is a bit different but Zoro likes more lowkey birthday celebrations where he can rest as an excuse.

“Fine, since you’re twisting my arm about it, I’ll just go and lay down.”

He says, as if he wasn’t smiling and wanting to sleep after eating you and Sanji’s birthday breakfast.

He mostly wants birthday cuddles and kisses while he’s trying to sleep. He wants to have you slung on him like a koala and snoring in his ear for his nap.

He admits he doesn’t really need any gifts, but he’s not going to complain if you got him something. He’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth when you reveal the gift box(es) to him.

If you get him something personalized or something like jewelry, expect him to glance in confusion at you.

“Why’d you get me something like this? Not really the fashionable type, ya know.”

But he will be wearing it every day from then on and will never take it off.

Author note: god he’d look ridiculously hot with a thin gold chain on his neck and I want it so bad.

Drinks a lot tonight. He’s going to deny that his birthday is anything special but he’s chugging it like he’s liberated another country. Maybe it’s because you and the crew care so much that it makes a day he normally skips on so full of love and joy.

Sanji made the cake (and designed it at your discretion) so Zoro acts like it ain’t shit.

“It’s just a cake. No need to go crazy over it.”

He ate like three slices before Luffy barged in and swallowed the rest of it.

He continues to have a great day with the crew after they make sure to throw him a small party as well as give him their gifts.

Speaking of gifts…

NSFW

When you tell Zoro you have another gift for him in his quarters, well, he’s a bit shocked. You already did so much for him, and you’re giving him another gift?

He follows your instructions and finds you on his bed, naked, pressing one his swords against your body while you’re holding a bottle of expensive sake.

Let’s just say his fourth sword started getting up.

He can’t wait to dive in and have fun with this “gift.”

He manhandles you a bit more, holding you tightly and gripping your hips while he’s busy kissing you roughly and exploring your mouth.

He enjoys drinking the sake from your mouth in these scenarios, mostly because he likes to fluster you enough to let it drip from your mouth.

He also likes to lay you down and pour the sake on your body so he can lick and slurp it up. The sounds are almost so obscene it makes you turn red.

“Eyes on me. Don’t get shy on me now. You’re the one who wanted to give me this gift, right?”

He’s happily performing oral on you over and over, to the point where you’re wondering if he remembers it’s his birthday, not yours.

If you insist on giving him oral, he ain’t complaining. Just know he’ll be a bit rougher and grip your hair tighter. And the stuff he’s whispering and telling you is so sinful, it’s almost impossible not to feel your heart race.

“Fuck. Just like that. You can take more. I know you can.”

You two are going at it all night, and while Zoro normally is keen on keeping you quiet, tonight, he throws caution into the wind and doesn’t care how loud you are. Heck, he even starts encouraging you to scream his name.

“Just like that, baby. Who’s fucking you this good?”

Maybe it’s the alcohol making him rather tipsy enough to not give a shit about what could be going on.

When you two finish after a long night, he pulls you in close and kisses the top of your head.

“Hey… I don’t think I thanked you for today… thanks. Really.”

You’re falling asleep on his chest but the look in his eyes is so full of love and adoration for you, and he sighs happily knowing he’s got you.

You’re the best thing in his life, and he knows that despite all the gifts he got today… you’re still the best gift he could ever ask for or even deserve.

So he presses another kiss to your forehead and enjoys the afterglow of a wonderful birthday night, his mind drifting away to things he could do for you.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece hcs #roronoa zoro #zoro #Zoro x reader #smut #one piece smut

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uglypastels · 1 year

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Not Wholly Evil |III| Pirate!Eddie au

summary: as the daughter of the Governor, there is quite a heavy prize set on your safe return home, and the captain will not let anything come between him and his bounty.

Series Masterlist

word count: 9.7k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. pirates are pigs: mentions of non-con, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying.

There might be a mention of other ST characters, and for plot sake, everyone is an adult here, just coz I don't want fetus pirates running around, but they are not really relevant to the plot.

Chapter 3: An Affair of Honor

“They say cowardice is infectious; but then argument is, on the other hand, a great emboldener” ― R.L. Stevenson, Treasure Island

‘See me in my quarters tonight, darling.’ He looked at you in this way, you couldn’t quite explain it or decode what the intentions behind his gaze, or words, were, but you did not enjoy it.

‘I hope you do not mind if I decline the offer.’ You could not let him get through to you; show complete indifference. At the end of the day, all he was doing was just intimidation tactics, and you were better than that.

‘I don’t think you understand, princess,’ his words came out sour but remained calm. As he spoke, he let the blade of the dagger he was toying with graze the edge of the ship, leaving behind a thin line in the wood, ‘this is not an invitation,’ he kept going, and the blade came closer and closer, digging deeper, the scraping becoming louder. ‘or a request.’ Then, in the next second, he moved quickly, and the blade struck the wood, much like the sword. Except for this time, with actual intent, deep into it, only an inch away from your hand, you almost felt the cold metal against you.

‘It is an order.’

You did your best not to flinch, eyes locked in on his. Could he tell you were terrified, or was your act working?

‘What if I do not want to follow your orders?’ Each word you spoke could very well certify your death sentence, but you could not just stand by as he taunted you.

‘I don’t think you want to find out.’ He spoke again with that usual casual grimace, leaning in, and your head spun from his proximity to you. All his words bounced around in your head, hitting your nerves like ricocheting bullets. Then, at last, you got a grip back on your tongue:

‘Get away from me.’

Immediately, he stepped away, hands up in the air as if targeted with a pistol instead of words; the smirk on his face everlasting. Then, he pulled the blade out of the railing. It had been pushed in even more profoundly than you expected, but the wood did not split from the damage. Instead, a neat, thin line cut right through it. You could easily imagine that same cut now being in you. In— you blinked quickly at the memories of that one dark day. Then, a succession of quick breaths pulled you back to the here and now.

Taking small steps back slowly, his grin grew wider, and his eyes burned with higher mischief as he bent lower and lower in farewell. Hit boots shook the ground around you as he walked away, not saying another word. But no more words were needed.

The Captain had his ways.

He would see you tonight, whether you wanted to or not.

And the night was creeping in faster and faster. The sky’s pink glow was darkening, losing that warmth by the minute. You contemplated on what to do next. The crew was roaming every inch of the vessel, doing their tasks. It was your first time out in the fresh air while they were there, so you did not know if this was the usual speed at which they performed. The only frame of reference you had were the men of your old ship, and it seemed similar enough. Orders were being shouted across the boards from one man to another to help with the ropes of the sails, tying them accordingly, moving the wheel… everyone was rushing around you, and it was hard to keep track of what exactly was going on.

You thought standing by the edge of the ship would give everyone enough space, but men were still bumping you around, apologising with grunts which were more than you expected them to do. They kept their head down as they walked on. After the fourth time it happened, you decided to get out of the way completely, but it wasn’t as simple as it sounded. Wherever you tried to stand, it seemed like someone had some business to do there to keep the ship going. With glances down at your trapdoor, you saw no option to return to your “room” as some empty wooden cargo containers had blocked it off.

Another grumble came as you nearly lost your head by a plank. Why would they even need to be carrying it around at this time?

With no more options left, you climbed the stairs towards the quarter deck, where the wheel was being stirred by one of the captain’s more trusted crew members. You didn’t know any of their names, with no intention to learn them, but you had sometimes recognised him as by Munson’s side. The man glanced your way but did no more than that and focused back on the waters ahead.

Behind him was a stained-glass door, its panels shimmering with the warm glow of the inside candlelight. Besides that, it was too thick to look through, but you didn’t need to know what was hidden from you. You had been lured towards the captain’s quarters like a helpless animal is drawn into a trap by its hunter. Mindlessly, you walked up to it.

Could you turn around now? Run away? The need was not for self-preservation but primarily due to your embarrassment; you managed to get tricked into this mess.

‘Go on then,’ the man at the wheel said. ‘Captain doesn’t like waiting.’

‘If he’s so desperate to see me, he’ll wait for as long as I’ll make him.’ You crossed your arms and leaned against the railing of the quarter deck. The man glanced over at you, either impressed or frustrated. Were you pushing your luck?

Ever since you set foot on the bridge between the Hellfire and the sinking Red Tail, this little attempt at rebellion could not have been anything new to them compared to your endless tries at starvation and threats of hanging and punching the captain.

Right, that happened. Whatever was inside must have to do with that.

You nervously looked over at the door. The soft, warm light flickered as the fire moved about. But you were quick to turn your head again.

The sun had now submerged itself under the water, leaving the stars and moon to rule over the sky. You occupied the next few minutes trying to decipher your positioning under the constellations, craning your neck from side to side while identifying the silver lights. Finally, under an unobstructed sky, barely any clouds to obscure it or light to take away the brightness of what was above you, you were met with a million new stars. You could easily spend the rest of the night there, just like that.

And it was about when you decided to make yourself a bit more comfortable, sitting on the ground, when the door in front of you burst open. The Captain stepped through the threshold but not over it, leaning against the door. He first looked at his man, who nodded down to you.

‘Glad you could make it, princess.’

‘Make it where?’

‘To my humble abode, of course,’ he stretched his arm out, welcoming you in, ‘please. Do come in.’ His voice sounded unfamiliarly sweet like honey trickling down his throat with every syllable.

You didn’t trust any of it. And, therefore, stood your ground, not moving a muscle.

The Captain waited about 10 seconds, staring you down in complete silence, before walking back inside. It had all been planned and prepared, for the moment he left, the man at the wheel came alive and made his way to you. It happened so quickly, and he had such strength that you could not fight back. Before you knew it, you were being dragged into the quarters. You had had enough time to elbow him in the stomach before he let you go and shut the door behind him.

It was now just you and the captain.

You spent the first moment inside taking everything in. It was spacious, once perhaps used as a navigation room, but changed into the captain’s chambers. You had deducted that what was initially designed to be the captain’s sleeping quarters aboard this ship had been made into a place for the rest of the crew to sleep. Much more spacious than the lower decks, which were now yours to call home… lucky you.

At the back of the room you stood in, large panelled windows spread out into a view of the sea that the ship had just passed. The water and sky merged into the nothingness of dark navy, only lit in the slightest sense by the stars.

In front of the windows stood an impressive oak desk covered in aged and weathered scrolls. A large stain was running down one side of the furniture as if someone had spilt their ink container. Behind it stood a majestic chair— a throne, one would most likely call it. Worthy of a king, yet rotting on this cursed ship.

At the left side of the cabin was a bed. It was quite plain, with a thin mattress and, to your surprise, a blanket just a little bigger than the fleece you had been given. Yet, it still looked heavenly compared to your current sleeping arrangement. Opposite the bed, on the right side of the room, stood a large dresser and commode, like the chair, beautifully engraved and carved. Compared to the old bookcase next to it, it looked like it belonged to a king… maybe it once did. Who knew when it came to these people?

The walls were adorned with decorations, the centrepiece being two large swords crossed with each other. There were also golden and silver chains hanging off of sticking-out nails and drapery made of the finest materials yet used like the commonest of cloths. It was clear that whoever these items belonged to them now had no knowledge or care for their value in the world. They were just objects to him that he could use as he liked in his room. This idea terrified you.

You followed the captain with your eyes as he walked by, only taking a second to look at the large map nailed to the wall opposite you. The floorboards creaked beneath your feet as you walked. Not sure where to go, you just made your way to the smaller chair in front of the desk. Now closer, you got a small glimpse of everything on it. They were indeed mostly parchment scrolls and stacks of paper. Some letters, notes and drawings, but before you could get a better look, Munson shoved everything into a drawer on the desk’s side and kicked his feet up onto the furniture top. Without permission, you sat down too, trying to look casual, but you could not, for the love of god, make yourself feel at ease with his gaze piercing right through you. But you could at least try.

‘I would like to apologise.’ As you had hoped, your words burst through him like a bullet, leaving him wide-eyed and lost for words, but he quickly and smoothly recomposed himself as each time before.

‘How so?’ He raised a brow inquisitively. He was studying you, analysing your words and movements, and you could feel it; just did your best to ignore it.

‘I want to apologise for my behaviour out on the deck. It had not been my intention to act out so irrationally or to hurt you or cause any tension among your crew, who I know deeply respect you so.’ What followed was silence as he let his words soak into himself. That lasted approximately a quarter of a minute before he nodded shortly.

‘Your daddy has tought you well, hasn’t he, princess?’

‘Excuse me?’ You blinked slowly, not receiving the response you had expected.

‘Don’t try to fool me with the pleasantries, sweetheart. No one taught you to fight but, instead, told you you could get away with your pretty smile, I understand.’

‘I…’ you stuttered momentarily, trying to comprehend what the captain had said, most notably the new nickname he had slipped past his lips. It was strange to get hung up on a thing like that among everything else that had happened, yet… ‘Do you think I need a man to tell me how to survive?’ you let your mind realign correctly again. ‘That’s quite a rude assumption to make of you.’

‘Oh, please, princess, on the contrary.’ He had you completely speechless, which might have been best for him as he had plenty more to say. ‘Feel offended if I actually start believing that is all you can do. You are much too smart to just play this naive act. I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it. You are too smart to think that a little slap would be enough for me to lose all of my crew’s respect– I should feel offended by that kind of assumption, as a matter of fact, or that I was supposed to get fooled by your submission now. If you think a few kind words would be enough to make me melt for you….’

‘I don't think even the flames from the deepest pits of hell could do that.’

‘And there you go again, sweetheart,’ he chuckled.

‘I didn’t mean–’

‘No, I know what you mean, princess.’ His mannerisms and voice constantly wavered between calm and raging, too quick in the changes to pinpoint precisely. Nevertheless, it kept you on your toes and your heartbeat skipping. ‘And I think you know that if I really wanted to punish you, I wouldn’t do it here, but out there,’ he cocked his head toward the door, ‘where everyone could see what exactly happens when you disobey the captain.’ He looked at you; it was enough to make your whole body freeze. Who would have thought this warm honey colour would have such a cold effect on you?

‘So if you are not to punish me,’ you sat up straight, cleared your throat, ‘Why am I here?’ You let your back hit the chair's backrest, allowing one of your arms lazily hang over the armrests, but it didn’t feel right, so you quickly shifted sides.

‘Must there be a reason?’ he asked, which you thought was ridiculous. But, of course, there had to be a reason for him to bring you into his cabin after days of being on his ship. Besides altercations and confrontations, the two of you had barely shared a word, and now you were sitting six feet away from him, talking, almost civil-like.

You forgot he had asked you a question or what your answer was supposed to be.

‘You are right,’ he sighed, despite you not saying a word. ‘I don’t let just anyone in here.’

‘Is that meant to be flattering?’ You raised a brow, still unsure where this situation was leading to. He seemed to think your question through momentarily before smiling with his head down.

‘No, I suppose not particularly.’ There was another long silence that followed. You looked around more at the chair you were sitting on, it seemed to be a plain and straightforward chair, and nothing else in the room gave you any sense that something was wrong… then why did you feel like there was? And why had he not stopped grinning?

You turned toward the door, wondering if you could outrun him and leave the room. But… would there be a point to it? The ship was only so big; you could not hide on it forever.

‘I have my man Henderson waiting outside, so don’t worry, he’ll catch you.’ Munson said as if he could read your thoughts. ‘Is this really so bad? I’m quite enjoying the silence.’

‘Perhaps you enjoy it because you have the privilege of understanding the circumstances of it.’

‘See, you are too clever for all that pretty princess nonsense. Truly unflattering.’ Yet it is what he remained calling you constantly. Princess. Your jaw clenched as you made your body sit as still as possible.

‘Unlike your brutish decorum,’ you quipped, unsure if your intentions had been humorous or insulting. Either way, you got him to laugh. That small chuckle, but he tilted his head back slightly this time. It was just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his neck and the scar that ran right across it as if someone had tried their hardest to put him down a long time ago, their failure now permanently stitched into his skin. It seemed like the type of thing the Captain would take the joy out of.

The candles flickered all around you, enveloping you in the amber light. Compared to the dark wood of the cabin, and the darkening sky outside the windows, the room felt like it was trapping you within its flames. And they seemed to be growing. Like in your dreams, except it was not the darkness, but this devilish light that was taking over. The glow burned more and more, like a halo around the Captain. Brighter as his grin grew wider, tugging at the corners of his mouth like a string. To see Munson smile like that chilled you to your core and distracted you from realising what it truly was that lit up the sky.

At first, you considered it to be the glow of the sunset, but that could not be. It had set long ago. The sky had already turned into a black abyss that no sun could come close to. Millions of stars were looking over you, the moon was at its smallest form, but the sun was not giving off a warm glow. That burning globe was nowhere to be seen.

Thus, upon closer inspection, you realised what the source of light was.

Fire.

Real, warm, man-made fire.

Your body moved on its own, with no thoughts behind your actions; you got off the chair, which fell back to the ground with a thud as you ran to the window.

It looked surreal, the small island in the short distance—It was hard to see, but from the far right side, you could make out the shape of a harbour town, at the foot of a mountain, with houses surrounded by deep shrubbery and trees, coloured by the warm yellow and orange light of the torches on the street. You could almost hear the people on the coast talking and singing in the tavern. As much joy as it was to see a landscape with more than the blue horizon, none of it felt familiar to you. It was as much of a hopeful as it was a sad reminder of your state. Because it was too good to be true for it to be your home, you recognised the differences immediately, but you would take anything over this ship. In addition, you saw the ships anchored at the small harbour: militia. Someone out there could save you.

You let your hand touch the cold glass. The candles in the room formed a soft glow on everything, reflecting in the windows. Therefore, you could see him get up from his throne and walk over to you, hovering over you only inches away. He had not said a word since your small comment, had barely reacted besides that grin, and you were awaiting his next move.

‘What are you doing?’ you asked in fear. He, however, did not answer. You had to make out from the reflection what was happening. The reflection, as well as your own body. His breath on your neck, his lips ghosting that part of you. One of his hands reached for yours, which you quickly pulled away.

‘I just remembered,’ he said, his voice like you had never heard it before. It was indescribable as, like most of his actions, you could not pin them on an intent.

Your breath shook as you repeated one word. ‘What?’

‘Why I wanted you here, darling.’ His voice was merely a whisper, and you could have felt it on you from anywhere in the world. Like nothing you had felt before and preferably never would again. It followed you around and covered your entire body. Maybe because of that, you had not realised he had left you at that window. So focused on ignoring all the signs he left on you and too enamoured by the island that crept closer and closer to you, you did not know that Munson had moved away from you. That he, in fact, had walked all the way across the room.

Until it was too late.

You could not manage a syllable before he explained himself, already standing at the door.

‘I make for a lovely distraction, don’t I?’ With that, he opened the door and stepped out, shutting it loudly behind him. So loud you nearly missed the lock being turned on the other side, but that kind of sound does not escape one.

You were about to protest, already taking your first steps towards the door, cursing the captain and his moronic jests when, almost simultaneously, the ship bucked. Like something heavy had fallen off it and was keeping it from moving. The anchor. The ship was settling. They were planning to go on land to the town ahead of you.

And you have now locked away, once again, in the captain’s cabin.

After a scream that made your throat burn, the room fell into silence. It was so quiet in the room you could hear what was happening outside. The crew was noisy, bustling around, and excited. Slowly, the puzzle pieces were coming together.

The active crew. The harbour town. The mischievous smile on Munson’s face.

You had not expected anything less than filthy trickery from the captain, and here it was. He locked you up in his cabin to prevent you from escaping onto the land. Having gained freedom from your cage, it would have been too easy to lock you in again. Instead, he played you. He lured you forcefully into his quarters to chain you up so you could not run away.

Well, not exactly chain you up, but as you stood in the middle of his large room, you felt as if you had been shackled to the ground. Though you could move your entire body freely, each move felt heavy, like the solemn act of locking that door not only restrained you but was actually sucking the energy out of your limbs.

That is what he did to you. This impossible man exhausted you every waking minute of the day that you were near him.

You reached for the door once you regained some movement in your legs, despite knowing how it would end up. Pulling it made it only budge slightly in its hinges, but it would go no further. It was locked. No matter how hard you pulled and pull, you did. It was as if you would be strong enough to break whatever lock held the hinges closed. Before you knew it, your fists slammed on the wood panels, and tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes. You would have screamed if you had any hope left.

Why was this your breaking point? Was it that you always ended up in the same place, no matter how much time passed? Locked up in a dark corner. Powerless and afraid–the thing you were fighting so hard from becoming. That might have perhaps been even more infuriating. Not what he had done to you, but what he made you become. The poor girl pleading to no one to let her out of the room she walked into alone.

You hit the door until your hands hurt, but no one came. Of course, not. No one was aboard to hear it. They were all threading the land… You didn’t even want to think about what would happen to those poor people. Those unsuspecting civilians just living their lives in a small harbour town. You could see the building through the large window now clearly. They looked to have been built with no wealth. It is where fishermen lived with their families. They would have nothing to offer those storming into pillage, burn, and murder. Because that is what those monsters of the Hellfire did. And soon, they would return from the island with their “treasures”, just like they had from your ship.

But… would they come back with more women? Had you been just one of their trophies? What would have happened if you were not the daughter of a rich man who could pay them for your return? More tears streamed out. At this point, it was unstoppable. No matter how often you told yourself to stand up and pull yourself together, it would all crumble down as fast.

Deep breaths. Just for a few seconds.

All you could do now was remind yourself that you could do better. That you were better than Munson and all his men. That when he came back, he could not see you like this. You had to stand up and show who he was trying to break down. He showed off his battle scars proudly? Well, so could you. You would ensure he would see those reminders before your tears, which you now wiped off your cheeks.

The candlelight flickered, but they had been on for a long time, the wax melting with each passing second. How long until you were in complete darkness? Would they come back by then? It must have been a quarter of an hour since Munson locked you in his room. How much longer would they need to destroy a town like that? A few more minutes at best. It would be pointless to keep banging at the door, so what could you do but sit it out until you were released.

You considered sitting in his chair— no, it was definitely a throne. Even from across the room in the dimming light, you could make out the pictures placed upon it with a knife’s blade. Craftsmanship you could have imagined placed in your father’s study. As well as most of the furniture around you, actually. But to sit in it felt wrong, and in fact, the bed posed along one of the walls looked much more inviting.

However, it was nothing of the luxury you had expected from looking at it. It creaked as you sat down, and the unevenness was imminent when your back touched it. Whatever way you lay or rolled, it felt like ten thousand tiny pin pricks to your spine. Could it be worse than the floor you had been prompted to in the cargo den? And this was the captain’s lodge… It did not make sense.

The pillow, however, felt heavenly. With a softness which only the finest goose could provide, suddenly all the other pain went away, and with the warm fleece thrown over you, you could fall asleep in moments. If it only wasn’t for everything else in the room, and your confined state, that pulled you away from your slumber.

You remained on the bed, unsure how long, which troubled your mind. Surely, by now, they should have returned with their harvested bounty. Instead, Hellfire remained uncharacteristically peacefully quiet, and the town mirrored that ambience from what you could make out through the window. The only fire that burned lit the night and felt welcoming to all.

And for a long time, nothing changed.

So, locked in a room alone, with no option of serene slumber, you began to roam around practically. What else could you do? The captain had doomed you to hours of boredom. Therefore, you could not expect him to think you would do anything else. Or did he believe you would curl up in a corner and cry until his return? It was not hard to imagine that a sight like that would be appreciated by a man like him, and well, you were not ready to give him that. Besides, the idea of being able to look through the things in Munson’s seemingly, private quarters felt like an opportunity only a fool would not take.

Once the idea had bubbled up in your mind, your eyes immediately hit a target. The large wardrobe right opposite the bed practically called to you. With its uneven doors that stood ajar by simply being put together wrong, it felt like an invitation. The hinges creaked like any other on the ship and opened to a rack of coats, shirts, pants, and boots. They were all distinct but similar enough to know one person had put them there. Who once may have owned them would remain a mystery until the end of time.

You let your fingers trace over the material hanging in front of you. It was silken but old and moth-eaten, fragile from its use. Most of the shirts were, but it would do. So you grabbed the cleanest looking one and a pair of trousers, and that was that.

With no idea when anyone decided to come back, you had to move swiftly, putting an item on as soon as one had taken another off. It was easier said than done. While you had removed most layers of your dress to make it more comfortable, it was still a hassle to remove in its entirety, and then the amount of material flooded over you as you tried to keep it together while simultaneously pulling this new shirt over your head.

It was quite large; the sleeves had to be rolled several times to reach your wrists. The collar was practically slipping down your shoulder, but it was decent. Only now did you realise how much weight you must have lost on board, not having had a decent meal in so long—even longer. Because the conditions on the Red Tail might have been idyllic compared to now, they still were not the best. Food was not scarce but was no feast either. Not wanting to remind your body of it, you pushed the thought of a meal away and went back to your clothes.

The dark brown, or nearly black, trousers were a loose fit, sagging down your hips as you let go of them. Luckily, there were a few belts in a drawer of the wardrobe, and you picked one that felt the least flamboyant–the one that would cause the least damage as “stolen property of the captain”. It was your strategy on all pieces of clothing. Besides comfort and cleanliness, you did not want to stand out. Having seen how the rest of the crew dresses, your thought of dark trousers and a white shirt seemed safe enough. To ruin this with a large silver belt buckle was counter-effective. Though your eye did momentarily linger on one belt, embellished with a golden clip formed to look like a snake with a ruby eye.

There was no mirror in the room, or any suitably reflective surfaces, besides the window, which gave you an impression by opposing the dark night sky and waters with the lights inside the cabin. Seeing yourself after so long was not the most pleasant sight, but you could also witness one strength. Your smile. It was still there. Weak, but holding on and pushing yourself to go on.

You would get through this.

And the new clothes certainly helped. Ignoring how wrong it felt to wear something that belonged to Munson and that he has worn countless times, no doubt. Could you remember him wearing this specific shirt? You couldn’t be sure when all the items look so similar. But the chances were high for that to have happened, and you weren’t enjoying it. It was like a cruel joke that Munson took out on you once again. You felt his influence and the ghost of his presence without being near you. Even the things you wanted and did on your own accord, planned to rebel against his oppressive position over you, he still managed to get his hands on it and poison everything.

Could he poison you? Corrupt, whatever piece of you was left unbroken? If this was considered theft, which he most likely did, would it mean you had stooped down to the level of the sea criminals? The idea made you feel like the boat had suddenly rocked heavily, tossing your head and stomach around until you saw double. But only momentarily, because then another somewhat comforting thought came to you. If you were already in the darkness, you could settle, and there was little you could do to make your matters worse.

You grabbed the ruby-eyed snake belt off the shelf and wrapped it around your waste. Munson be damned.

Once dressed and fitted, you folded your old dress and put it onto the bed. Of course, with so much material, it could be repurposed in a handful of things, but most likely, you saw it take up the function of a new pillow for yourself.

After that, you looked at what else there was to see and to find out about your dearest captain Eddie Munson. Next to the wardrobe which you had just ambushed, in the corner of the room, stood a large bookshelf. It was uneven, seeming to be bucking under its weight and all the heavy volumes stacked inside it. How the books were placed looked like an intricate puzzle, highly sensitive. As if it would all topple down if you simply touched it.

You were hesitant to walk over to it, to open its glass doors and peek at the titles carved along the leather-bound spines. Unsure why you had expected to books to have formed a coat of grey on them. Dust from years of neglect like most things and men aboard. You were proven wrong, however, when no dust cleared as you opened the shelves. Whatever information they held inside has been read on several occasions. At least a more significant part of them.

Some books, the ones on the lower shelf, were less disturbed, with that thin layer of grey topping them, a topic that must be less appealing to the reader but interesting enough to have rubbed off the gold of the spine. Not being able to read what was said on it, you picked the book up.

Though you recognised the words, you could not believe what you were reading. Not in this room, on this ship. The two did not connect in your brain.

Milton’s words seemed foreign in this context, but you knew them well. It was the first that caught your eye of the pages marked with a red ribbon in the middle:

Of fellowship I speak Such as I seek, fit to participate All rational delight, wherein the brute It cannot be human consort.

After a moment, it made sense–perfect sense, in fact–for Munson to have obtained such a story. The temptations of the fallen angel to corrupt the world, calling war upon the heavens. It had never spoken to you before, but suddenly, rereading the verses, you felt a cold chill run down your spine.

A page was enough for you to put the book back in its place. Next to it were the other volumes of Paradise Lost and works by other poets; Swift, Blake, Wordsworth and Pope were some of the few you could make out in the worn-out binds. On the shelves above were books on astronomy and bundles of maps, although these felt unnecessary when glancing at the large map that covered most of the wall. As you had looked at it for the first time, seeing the amount of ink poured over it in annotations and markings, it had felt entirely unusable, but now you saw a logic to the madness. The arrows and dotted lines. The crosses over certain islands, marking past victories presumably, or future ones. Where could you be finding yourself on this mural? You tried to look for a while but, in reality, had no possibility of knowing where the Hellfire was in the world. But you did find another place instead. Seeing it on his map, the original, by now slightly faded, ink showing the city name tauntingly, pained you. Knowing you were so close to finally being free again made you want to scream all your feelings out at once. Your home remained in its place, calling to you, and there was nothing you could do but stare at it blankly, trace your finger over the letters, and ignore the fresh ink circling it like a dooming curse.

But besides this enlarged edition and the atlases in the bookcase, there were even more maps to be found on the desk among navigational instruments. A compass lay discarded, broken and turning in its place like a tornado. The loose pieces of paper were ready to be blown away to the world's four corners: reports, diary logs, and letters. Unfortunately, the writing was not discernible enough to read, and something within you told you there was not enough time to decypher the code-like signature. What you did still try to look at was the drawers of the desk. There had been three in total, and the first two opened up to reveal more paper and a gun. Barrell blackened from frequent use. It certainly was good to know of this item’s existence and location.

The third drawer, you were ready to pull out, but it seemed jammed in—nay, locked. You tried to pull it a few more times to be safe, but whatever contents were inside it were not intended for your, or anyone else’s, eyes. You glanced at the table to see if anything could help you pick the lock but soon gave up on the idea.

And probably for the better, too, as you heard it precisely as you opened the first browned pages. Voices and footsteps. The men had returned. You couldn't be sure how much time exactly had gone by that you were alone, but enough to become startled at the burst of sound. And it all happened so quickly that you had no time to figure out what their chorused voices meant. There were no signs to explain what happened on shore. The only thing that felt right to conclude was that they were… happy. Satisfied with whatever venture went on in your absence.

The door flung open.

You were not sure what made you do it, but the second the door moved, you were up on your feet with the old gun in your hand, pointing it directly at the head that appeared. The brown eyes in front of you gawked open in shock and confusion, and it made you smile your first earnest smirk in a long time.

‘You’ll have to excuse me, I tried to make myself a bit more comfortable while you were away,’ you tried to sound as confident as possible, as these few hours by yourself had given you the encouragement to do so, hoping that the tremor in your hand was not visible from the distance between you.

‘I can see that, princess.’ Slowly, the shock in your visitor’s eye subdued. ‘Please, be my guest.’ Munson extended his arm toward the thrown behind you, offering you the seat. You looked at it, unsure. All you could think in that second was that he would expect you to be too scared to take up the proposal, so you sat down. Legs wide to take up as much space as you could. When you looked back up at the captain, he seemed composed at first glance, and his words spoke in a relaxed tone, but you felt something was not quite right. His secure posture was overshadowed by the flicks of his eyes, from you to the desk, the bed, the books, and the gun in your hand. Your chest still rose heavily with each breath as you tried to calm down when he stepped closer.

‘You can put the gun down now, darling.’ He smiled and came forward to the chair you had sat in previously. The roles were now reversed, yet wholly not, for you knew he still had the upper hand. He had the ship and the crew in the palm of his hand. All you had in yours was a gun… with no bullets.

The trigger clicked, and nothing happened.

Munson made himself comfortable, and in the meantime, a crewmate walked into the room behind him. You had seen him around the ship but had not heard his name. He was one of the better-looking ones around the vessel, but it did not say much in your circumstances. They were as ugly as the others on the inside.

But you were not occupied with the man, or his appearance, as much as with what he was carrying. A large tankard, which sloshed around a dark liquid as he walked, and an even bigger plate. Its aromas hit your nostrils, and you immediately felt yourself drooling at the thought of a decent, warm meal.

The captain had let his crew member pass, placing the food on the desk, and when his eyes caught you, he froze. You must have drastically changed your appearance by dressing in the captain’s clothes, and the gun was still lazily hung between your fingers. Nevertheless, his eyes stayed on you until he left the room. It was once more only you and Munson now. In between you, the plate of food.

‘You must have enjoyed yourself quite a bit in here, didn’t you?’

‘Well, there is only so much a person can do when locked up alone.’

‘Next time, I’ll be sure to leave you some company then, shall I?’ He watched you intently, but he had not touched the food or drink. Were they possibly for you? The idea alone sounded silly. It must be another torture plan of his? Let you close to a proper meal, give you hope, just to take it away and make you watch as he indulged in the feast himself. Your body screamed with hunger, the days of eating so poorly finally catching up on you, but you pulled back. Your eyes found his directly as you stared silently, expecting his next move.

What happened next was not that.

‘We figured you must be starving.’ The captain’s words sounded sincere, and it was your turn to gaze up at him in shock and confusion. What was this supposed to mean? You looked down at the plate once more but did not move.

‘Is this poisoned?’ Better to ask and possibly catch him off-guard.

‘No, it is not poisoned.’ His features softened. ‘Why would we do that?’ He pushed the tankard and plate closer to you.

‘I’m not sure. You seem to constantly want to punish me with no rhyme or reason.’

‘Even if it was poisoned, it would not be effective of me to tell you the truth, now, would it?’

‘As if whatever you do or say only has one intention?’ You retorted, knowing fully well that the man was full of deceiving trickery. His words were layered, his actions calculated. He would manage to play you like a fiddle either way. You knew it, and he knew it too.

‘Here then,’ exasperated, Munson grabbed the turkey leg on the plate, took a rough bite out of it, and followed it with a big chug from the tankard. ‘Sufficient proof for you, princess?’ he asked, still chewing. But, of course, your mind immediately swerved to the fact that if the meal was indeed poisoned, the toxins would need time before taking effect. And in that time, which he would know how much that was, he could probably find a needed antidote. But he did not seem the man to take such a risk. He wouldn’t perform such an act if it was not safe. Not for your sake. He may seem caring now, but he did not give a damn. Why should he? There was nothing for him to gain out of it.

But he ate the meat with enough ease to make you immediately regret letting him eat your food.

‘Please,’ he said once he put the food down, ‘it would be a shame for it to get cold.’

You gave him an unsure look before hunger took over your mind. The second you reached for the food, there was nothing else anyone could do to stop you from eating everything on that plate.

It could have been your starving status, but you could have sworn that it was the most delicious meal you had ever consumed, so rich in flavour it was bringing your energy back to you simply by its taste. You couldn’t help the ecstatic moan that escaped you.

Munson chuckled, ‘yeah, it’s good, isn’t it, princess?’ You did not respond, too occupied by drinking the ale. Never before had you enjoyed the drink's flavour, but it was like ambrosia, coming directly from the gods to you.

Nothing was said until you finished your plate, coming close to licking it clean. All this time, the captain watched you. Eyes like that of a hawk pinned in on you, catching all your movements, surely analysing them to take advantage of in the future. All you could hope for was that something by your new appearance could throw all that off by just a twinge.

‘Will you keep staring at me like that?’ You felt bold and so let your words out as they came. See how far you could take it.

‘Can’t blame me with such a sight before me.’ He leaned back in the chair. ‘But no matter how you dress, you’ll always be my princess.’

You gagged at his comment. ‘I had to get out of that disgusting dress.’

The captain glanced over at the discarded material on his bed. ‘Yes, I can only assume that must have gotten uncomfortable, but you could have just said so. I’m sure we could have found you something else to wear.’ Yes, say this now, why don’t you. Of course, that makes it all sound so reasonable. You were growing increasingly impatient with this man, if that was even possible.

‘Yes, well, if you didn’t want me taking your clothes, you didn’t have to keep me in here–’

‘I have no problems with you wearing that.’ Munson glanced over your body again, and that cold chill that became almost synonymous with the captain to you ran down your spine.

‘Was there a specific reason that I had to be here?’

‘I couldn’t have you running off, could I?’ He checked the tankard, just to find it, much to his disappointment, to be empty, but he still smiled as he put it back on the desk.

‘You could have locked me in my own cell.’

‘Thought you would have preferred a bit of comfort for once.’ He said, still looking at the cup.

‘I do not need comfort,’ you have slept on the ground for weeks, or so it felt, at least, and you could barely remember what it was like to sleep in a soft bed. ‘Besides, your bed feels worse than the floor.’

‘You know how to insult a man, don’t you.’ Clearly, by his bemused face, you did not. Whatever you did, the captain was unphased. ‘And after I gave you a nice warm meal, let you wear my clothes.’ He clicked his tongue in disappointment, which was a few steps too far for you.

‘No– but… I can tell what you are doing. So you can stop this whole charade, because I can see right through it.’

‘Oh, can you now?’ He leaned closer, with his whole body over the flat top of the desk, ‘enlighten me, then.’

You quickly searched his eyes for an escape as your mind reached for something to say, but no words were coming out. Munson gave you a few seconds before he smiled and leaned his forearms on the desk.

‘Do you think so little of me? That I am incapable of kindness or decency? There isn’t always a snake hiding in the grass, my dearest.’ It was hard to tell when he wouldn’t stop smiling his wicked and mischievous grin. How could you not think he had schemes up his sleeve when he looked like that.

‘I think we are both aware of how much you are capable of. And I do not want to have anything to do with it any longer.’ It had been a long day, one after many of such kind, and you did not want to have more to deal with when it came to the captain’s antics. Whatever he was brewing, it could not be good.

‘Are you saying you did not enjoy tonight?’ his eyes toned disappointment, which felt like a mocking stab directed at you. ‘I really would have imagined you to be more thankful, darling, and yet, here you are accusing me of poisoning your delicious food, then questioning my intentions, assuming I am taking advantage of you... While I’ve done is keep you and my crew safe. I couldn’t have you roam around free on the ship, possibly damaging it, or, even worse, yourself.’ Liar, you thought, you were scared I would try and escape.

You glanced at the bone that remained from your dinner. It wasn’t sharp enough to stab with, but maybe if you swung hard enough, it could do some damage.

‘Do not act like you suddenly care about me or anyone else. Do not mess with my mind because, in all fairness, you cannot.’ Not anymore.

‘I was doing nothing of such kind. But even if—’ Munson got up back, placing his hands behind his back. ‘I will be honest with you, darling, so do not take this as an insult, how could you, if I agree with you– I do not care what happens to you. Not personally. As much as you do not care for me, I assume, at least.

‘But to keep you here for the amount of time it will take me to get you home and get my reward, I sure as hell hope it will be worth it.’ The way he emphasised “hell” made you flinch. ‘And I don’t think your dear daddy would like it if his princess returned home harmed. That could cost me– you understand this, don’t you?’

‘And keeping me locked in a cage, underfed, dirty and miserable– that is how you think I should be treated?’

‘You get to live in more luxury than my men, dearest. Or would you like to scrub the deck too?´ He was quick in his responses. But your mind was stuck on what he had really meant in his earlier confession.

‘So, what, I’m an investment now?’ you were worth plenty to him, just not in the same way a human should appraise another human’s life.

He smiled, clicking his tongue again. ‘Isn’t that what a tradesman would call it?’

‘A tradesman?’ you scoffed at the idea. ‘Is that what you think this is? A trade?’ Your father was a tradesman. Never could you imagine him acting in such heinous ways to keep his business running.

‘Is it not?’ He looked around as if the surroundings were a clear answer. And perhaps they were but for different reasons.

‘Yes, of course. You rampage and kill and torture and destroy. Arrive anywhere and steal whatever you can handle without mercy.’ You remembered how you were dragged out from underneath the table on the Red Tail, right across the ship and the bridge onto the Hellfire. ‘How is that not pure and earnest trade?’ You mocked with a roll of your eyes.

‘I know it must be hard for you to understand, but business at sea is no easy feat. It is a game of survival above anything else. The decision of sailing out to sea may as well be a death wish.’ He kept his tone calm, steady, and yet filled with condescension. He was speaking to you as if to a child and, even worse, trying to feed you a false narrative of heroism and bravery– the exact opposite of what he was.

‘You’re disgusting,’ you wanted to spit the words at him, but your throat was too dry. ‘If you think you can trick me into thinking that you are some kind of hero or that you saved me–’ was this really the narrative he believed to be leading? And was he trying to convince you of such tales? It felt ridiculous and, in all fairness, disrespectful.

‘That is what you don’t seem to grasp, princess,’ his voice suddenly turned softer, intimate. As if he was about to let you in on the deep secrets of the universe. But simultaneously, something was brewing underneath it. ‘There is no such thing as good or bad. No heroes or villains. Some fight for their beliefs while others fight because they are told to.’ His voice grew stronger, sterner. ‘And when you come across the second type, you may try and reason with either side, but you will find that to be impossible. They are simply pawns fighting a bigger man’s game. If you’re lucky, you might get through to some, but in most cases, it is easier to fight it out, much more reasonable, actually— violence is the only universal language. If you sit and think about it, we are all the same on either side of a war. There is nothing to be scared of in one man. It is everything around him, what he stands for, and the aftermath of the battle that scares most.’ His final words were emphasised with a violent tone, but he still held back on how he truly felt.

‘I–’ you had no words to respond to his little speech. Not when his golden brown eyes were still soaking in your colour. ‘This is no war,’ you finally said, ‘You demolished my vessel and abducted me like a feral monster!’

No insult would penetrate his tough skin, however. His eyes were just as deep and cold as any other moment of the day. ‘You can call us devils, or whatever you’d like, darling, but the truth is…the real monsters– the ones you should really be scared of– do not show their true colours. You will never know you’re in danger until it is too late.’

You had no words to respond to what he had just proclaimed. The room was filled with the dying flickering of candles and heavy breathing from both of you as you tried to regain your stable heartbeat. The captain glanced over at the map on the wall and spoke his next question still looking at it.

‘Do you hate me?’ Was his expression sombre or fatigued? And yet you felt like he was hoping for the answer you gave.

‘Yes,’ you responded without hesitation or stumbling. ‘“Despise” would be a better word for it, in fact.’

Despite most likely already having several replies ready, he wondered, giving you a moment to collect yourself. With one of his hands, he rubbed his stubbled chin in thought. That stubble had been a new addition to his look. As you had noticed, he was usually a man to regularly shave, but something must have kept him away from the blade.

He turned around, his back facing you. He had broad shoulders, which you could see rise with each breath he took, even with the layers of clothing over them. He seemed to be encapsulated in the ocean’s silence, too deep in his thoughts. You were almost comforted by it until he quickly turned back to face you.

‘Splendid.’ For a sober man, he had the stature of a village drunk, a short attention span, and an erratic nature to his words and actions, ‘And tell me, if you wouldn’t mind—’

‘Why do I get the feeling that I will.’

‘Now, now, let me finish.’ he held his hand up for anticipation and halted for a second before announcing his question: ‘Why do you despise me so?’

‘Why?’ you scoffed, feeling as if you had made your reasons loud and clear any moment you had spent with the man, ‘It is not like you have given me a reason to feel anything else but severe distaste for you. Let it just be the fact that I have been held prisoner on your ship for days.’

‘Yes, dragged you from underneath the desk, you poor thing,’ he said with distance. ‘But it was not me, however, who performed said dragging. So, again, please, princess, why do you hate me?’

‘It is not like you have given me a reason to feel anything else but severe distaste for you. You are a vile and mannerless man, with no morals or— are you even listening?’ As you talked, he kept looking at the map, walking across the room, seeming to have no interest in you as you sat on his thrown answering the question he himself had asked.

‘Yes, yes, do not let my vile mannered and moralless existence disturb you.’ One of his brows furrowed, but you doubted it had anything to do with you or what you said. ‘I still find no reason in this for your personal hatred towards me.’ He could not be serious. You refused to believe so. And his large interest in the mural was beginning to bring you on edge.

‘Is there something wrong? Because I can tell you that I had not touched your precious little map of yours—’

‘Oh no, that’s not it. Don’t you worry you're pretty little head, there will be no cruel punishment for you… just yet.’ He smiled, stepping closer towards the map, letting his head hang from side to side. ‘Yes… I see.’

The curiosity was eating you alive, but would he tell you if you asked? There was only one way to find out.

‘What is it?’

Captain Munson did not answer, and you assumed he, once again, was simply ignoring you when he suddenly clapped his hands with an exclamation and turned to you. ‘I had my suspicions when the island we just visited felt unfamiliar, but well, it’s making sense now.’

‘That what?’

‘It seems we have sailed terribly off-course for the past two days.’

In other words, you were lost.

Chapter 4...

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ghost-1-y · 9 months

Text

trust me - sanemi shinazugawa

Pairing: sanemi x afab!tsuguko!reader

!!PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE CONTINUING!!

TW: major character death (reader), no happy ending (hurt/no comfort), mentions & descriptions of gore & injury, brief thoughts of self-harm (Sanemi - briefly mentioned, doesn’t actually happen), consensual sex (Sanemi and reader are 18+), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, handjob, oral (m! and f! receiving), creampie, Sanemi is pussy drunk in this lmao; spanking (happens once), slight manhandling, praise kink, spitting kink(?) (Sanemi spits in readers mouth), (very) slight olfactophilia, brief mention of vomit (again, doesn’t actually happen), mention of scars (Sanemi and reader) MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI - I WILL BLOCK YOU

CW: fluff; general angst; arguments between Sanemi and reader; Sanemi is a bit of a meanie at times :/ (aka Sanemi being Sanemi); mentions of food/eating; descriptions of wound care; love confessions; Sanemi uses the following pet names for reader: “baby”, “pretty”, “beautiful”, and “sweetheart”

Word Count: ~6.2k

A/N: this is my first fic, so I hope that y’all enjoy it! I’m not gonna lie I was superrr nervous to post this lol so please be nice🥲🥲 I’ll probably do a fluffy comfort fic for Sanemi after this to make up for the pain lol; also wanted to let y’all know that this was half-inspired by the song “Fragile” by Laufey, so go give that a listen if you’d like!

Quiet.

As the dewy drops of the morning mist came into contact with his bare hands, Sanemi noted the silence of the sunrise – one would believe that its light denoted respite, a time of peace – something beautiful to behold as its rays began to gently sweep across the grassy field. He could not yet hear the calls of the mourning dove, for it was too early for the birds to grace anyone’s ears with their softening sounds.

However, as Sanemi continued his way through the tall blades, his hands wet with the remnants of night, respite gave way to apprehension, and the misty air was filled with a sense of malaise.

For the mist that lowly hovered above the grass was red.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

One year ago.

“You can’t expect me to treat you differently from them.” Sanemi pointed his blade to the lower-ranked slayers on the sidelines of the training grounds, those who hadn’t passed out yet being completely keeled over or having nearly drowned themselves in water to stave off the summer heat. “If you want to handle stronger opponents, I need to ensure that you are trained well enough to do so.”

Having been at the point of near-exhaustion herself, Y/N could barely muster a reply. “I know, Shinazugawa-san,” she panted while looking up at him from her not-so-flattering position on the ground. “Why else do you think I’m here? ‘s not like I enjoy being trained half-to-death,” she replied sarcastically.

Sanemi’s glare met her. “You should consider yourself lucky that I was gracious enough to let you train under me. At the rate you’re going, I’d half expect you to move down a rank, rather than up one.” He walked towards her and, despite his cold nature, offered Y/N his scarred hand. “Get up. I’m not lettin’ you go until you can knock me down to my knees.”

A challenge she knew to be nearly impossible with the skill level she was currently at, Y/N wondered if her rank of Hinoto meant anything against the Wind Pillar himself. She took his roughened hand in hers and stood up, and, after a poor attempt at dusting the dirt off of her uniform, steeled herself once more for the upcoming attack from the man glaring across from her.

Sanemi tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword and started lunging toward her.

–––––

Y/N continued to train under Sanemi’s watch, each day somehow more grueling than the last. She woke up at the god-awful hours of the morning and trained until midnight. This repeated day in and day out for weeks, with seemingly nothing to show for it except a bunch of creative insults that she’d managed to add to her arsenal after receiving them from Sanemi himself.

“You’re not using your sword correctly,” he pointed out. It was always something, she thought – her stance was wrong, her breathing wasn’t efficient enough, and now she apparently couldn’t even hold her sword correctly.

By the time she looked up at Sanemi, frustrated with her apparent inadequacies, he was no longer in front of her, having walked around so that her back faced him. He placed his hand on her forearm, “just– move your arms here…good, and your hands should be like this–” he spoke softly into her ear as he adjusted her grip to what he deemed satisfactory. Y/N was thankful that Sanemi stood behind her as she felt an intense warmth flood across her cheeks. By the time he was finished, Y/N noted the lightest blush on the tips of his ears as he returned to his original spot and took his own offensive stance, clearly not intending nor wanting to address the familiarity of his previous actions.

“Now you don’t have any excuses to have such a shitty attack pattern,” he quipped, before engaging her in battle once more.

As months passed, the Wind Pillar slowly transitioned from insults to providing Y/N with actual guidance, and she was slowly reminded of why exactly she requested to become his Tsuguko in the first place. One day, while she was taking her thirty-minute lunch break at the wooden chabudai inside of the Wind Pillar’s estate, Sanemi sat next to her and started to eat his own meal. He refused to look at her, but the words he uttered from his mouth sent relief through her veins.

“You’ve gotten stronger.”

Unsure of how to respond, as compliments were rare coming from the usually rather hostile Pillar, Y/N simply nodded and whispered a “thank you,” continuing to pick at her food. Eventually, she looked over at him and noticed that he was frowning at the wooden chabudai before him, an internal conflict seemingly battling out in his mind.

“I have a mission I’ve been assigned to, I’d like you to come with me.”

His words were quiet, almost hesitant.

“You want me to assist you?” she asked, mainly because she didn’t believe Sanemi had trusted her enough to bring her on a mission assigned to a Hashira, much less himself.

Sanemi nodded in response. “Lower-ranked slayers have been going missing in one of the nearby mountains,” he sighed. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have named them slayers in the first place if they’re stupid enough to get caught by some demon.” He paused, and then finally looked at her. “I think that you’re capable enough to help me should things get out of hand,” he added quietly.

A sense of warmth flooded through her, and she smiled at him, grateful that he had finally acknowledged the hard work she’d put into all of her training. “Thank you, Shinazugawa-san. I promise that I will do my best.”

Sanemi thought to himself that he would like to see more of that smile.

“Don’t think that just ‘cause I’ve seen you improve that it means I’m gonna let you take it easy from here on out,” he said as he stood up. “Also, if you get into trouble on this mission, I want you to call for me immediately. Don’t get yourself into some shit you can’t handle,” he added, and his gaze upon her suddenly hardened as the words left his mouth. “Let me deal with it if things get too difficult.”

With that, he left to head back towards the training grounds.

–––––

That night, Y/N followed closely behind as Sanemi hiked up the mountain, with the bitter cold becoming more apparent as patches of snow were slowly augmented by the tiny flakes falling around them. Every once in a while, they’d find some blood splatter or human entrails, with such carnage becoming more frequent as they continued their trek.

Eventually, Sanemi stopped – Y/N had learned to trust his instinct when he sensed that something was off. Sanemi brushed his hand over the hilt of his sword and gripped it tightly, his muscles tensing with anticipation, which caused Y/N to echo his actions and grab her own sword, holding it so that she was prepared for any possible enemy attack.

Or so she thought.

A blast of icy wind came from her right, forcing Y/N to close her eyes lest her corneas were to freeze from the frigid temperature. Sanemi, however, immediately chased after the source – his speed something frightening to behold. After a futile attempt to follow him, Y/N found herself swarmed by fifteen demons, all of whom were nearly identical to each other, as they all possessed the same pale blue skin and white hair. After a few attacks, Y/N also noted that their blood demon art was the same: one that would allow them to manipulate freezing winds and ice however they pleased.

Y/N was able to hear Sanemi in the distance, easily decapitating what seemed to be a larger swarm than what she was presently dealing with. Just how many of them are there? Y/N thought as she made her way through twelve of the demons, decapitating each one until an attack managed to hit her mid-air – causing a sharp ice fragment to deeply slice open her upper thigh. Gritting through the pain, she finished off the final three demons that she’d been fighting before slowly limping toward a nearby tree to assess the damage of her wound. It seemed as though Sanemi’s battle was also over, as Y/N could hear nothing but the howling of the mountainous winds as he walked back over to where they both had split up.

Once Sanemi caught sight of her, his shoulders seemed to relax. However, such relief was temporary once he eyed her bleeding thigh, and immediately began rushing over to her, pulling out some spare gauze that he had stored on his person and a wave of anger that she couldn’t describe filling the violet hues of his eyes.

“What did I fuckin’ tell you? To stay back and let me handle it, yet you’re so stupid that you can’t even obey direct orders,” Sanemi spat at her as he started bandaging the deep laceration on her thigh, taking careful consideration of the pressure and tightness of the gauze wrap he was using. Each time she winced, he would look up from her injury, and his violet eyes would meet hers. However, there was no malice of the words he spewed at her within his expanded pupils.

Y/N sharply inhaled before responding. “I’m sorry! But you’re the one who went on ahead and left me with them! I had to–”

“No. You didn’t have to, you fuckin’ dumbass. That’s where you’re wrong – you didn’t have to put yourself in danger just because I was off dealing with something else. Fuckin’ think next time and maybe I wouldn’t have to be cleaning you up like this,” he lightly choked on the last few words, yet continued wrapping up her wound, hands gentle and considerate of her pain. Y/N huffed at his impossible reasoning and looked down at him with a hardened stare.

He looked into her eyes once more, his grip on her uninjured leg tightening. “I don’t- I can’t fuckin’ lose someone else,” he stated, a rare glimpse of vulnerability from inside his tortured heart. At that, Y/N dropped her stare and hesitantly placed her hand upon his tensed one.

“I’m sorry, Shinazugawa-san, I promise that next time will be different. I’ll get stronger, so you won’t have to go to such lengths for me.” She gave him a reassuring smile, and his hand relaxed as he continued his work on her wounded leg. With the sun still rising over the horizon, she couldn’t make out the brimming of tears on his waterline before he blinked them away.

It was a side of Sanemi that Y/N hadn’t seen before – but before she could indulge herself to begin examining every crevice of emotion that the Wind Pillar had put on display for her, his attitude changed once again to one of apparent indifference.

“Don’t apologize – just listen to me next time,” he stated as he finished wrapping up her leg. Once a couple of hours passed and the Kakushi had arrived to clean up the aftermath, he stood up and grabbed Y/N’s arm to pull her up from her sitting position. Sanemi then took the same arm and put it around his shoulder, allowing her to use him as a crutch as they both walked to the wagon brought by one of the Kakushi in the aftermath of the battle.

The ride to the Butterfly Mansion was mostly quiet. Sanemi, despite not being injured himself, decided to stay with Y/N as she slept on the floor of the wagon. The cold of the early morning seemed to be permeating Y/N’s skin as she shivered in her sleep. Always aware of his surroundings, Sanemi looked at her with concern and took off his haori, feeling slightly flushed as he placed it on top of her as a makeshift blanket, blaming the warmth of his cheeks on the cold morning air. He sat down next to her, crossing his arms and closing his eyes to alleviate some of his own fatigue.

It didn’t help that in his dreams, his body was keeping her warm instead.

–––––

Once Y/N had woken up, she first noted the sanitary scent of the patient room assigned to her. Having awoken from the gentle knock on the door, she looked to see Aoi entering with some gauze and antibiotics.

Sanemi was nowhere in sight.

“I’m glad you’re awake. I’m here to perform some general wound care for you. I’ll be changing your dressings, alright?” Aoi looked at her, and once she received a nod from Y/N, she proceeded to unwrap the layers of gauze and started to inspect the wound.

“There is some slight inflammation,” she observed as she lightly pressed against the sides of the laceration with her gloved hands, which exhibited some redness and swelling. “I’m going to be prescribing you some antibiotics in order to prevent any potential infections.” She started applying some antibiotic ointment directly to the wound, and Y/N winced at the stinging pain that it caused. Once satisfied, Aoi carefully rewrapped the wound with a new set of gauze. “Your antibiotics will need to be taken orally with food and water once a day. Make sure you complete the entire course that I prescribe so that you don’t face any further complications down the line.”

All Y/N could do was nod silently, and once Aoi determined that she would follow directions, she left the room.

–––––

Despite wanting to thank him for helping her in the aftermath of the battle, Y/N had not seen Sanemi even once during her recovery process. She wondered if he had gone back to his estate, but it still struck her as odd that he didn’t at least come by to berate her for the lack of judgment she possessed in the midst of the fight.

Maybe he got it all out of his system when he was wrapping up my wound, she thought to herself.

During her stay as a patient, Aoi mentioned to Y/N that due to the cut slicing through the muscle of her leg, it could take weeks or even months to recover. Since Y/N had not yet mastered Total Concentration Breathing: Constant, Aoi explained that it may take longer to heal compared to if a Hashira had such an injury.

Y/N wondered if Sanemi no longer trusted her skills as a slayer.

She wondered if Sanemi ever had any trust in her at all.

The very thought caused bile to rise in her throat. She wanted him to be proud of her, to trust her – just as she did with him.

Y/N slowly got up from her bed and walked outside to sit on the engawa of the Butterfly Mansion. The moon’s rise was slow, and the soft chirp of crickets could be heard from the nearby trees. Once sat, she admired the garden owned by the Insect Pillar herself – with beautiful azaleas and hydrangea plants shaping pathways throughout the grounds. Y/N closed her eyes and basked in the moonlight rays that shone upon the estate – that is, until her ears heard the softest creak of wood coming from behind her.

“Shinazugawa-san?” She softly whispered once she turned to see who it was, as though the peace of the night would be disturbed should she speak any louder.

Sanemi said nothing, but then moved quietly to sit down next to her – if Y/N hadn’t known any better, she would’ve believed that he was solely there just to admire the moonlit garden as well. His eyes appeared a soft, yet dark hue of indigo in the cool moonlight – they bore none of the usual aggression that they carried when around others.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” Y/N asked him quietly, gaze fixed upon him, and he nodded.

“Would be prettier if it didn’t cause so much needless death.”

She couldn’t argue at all. He was right – and would be until demons had been eradicated off the face of the earth, but that didn’t stop her from wishing that things were different.

Sanemi sighed and finally looked at her, and his eyes screamed ‘loss’.

He was fragile. He wasn’t the roughened-up, aggressive, insolent slayer that others saw him as. Rather, it was his scars that held him together by threads, and it was his heart that silently called out to her – to “hold me, please.”

And so she did.

Y/N slowly slid her arms around him and had them reach up towards his nape. The sigh he emitted came from his chest, and Sanemi’s grip tightened around her as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. His eyes closed and brows furrowed, focused on nothing but the gentle touch of her skin against his. His mouth was slightly parted, lips pressed softly near her collarbone as he breathed against her.

His touch was warm.

She wished to feel more of it, to let it utterly consume her until all that she could feel was him.

Once he parted from her, Y/N looked into his eyes and felt the need to speak. “I- uh, I wanted to thank you for helping me with my wound after the battle,” she admitted softly. In response, his eyes hardened again and looked down at her bandaged leg.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied shortly before getting up. Soon after, Y/N found herself alone on the engawa once again, although the peaceful silence of the night had been replaced with a feeling of despondency that she couldn’t quite place.

–––––

By the time she recovered from her injury, it seemed as though Sanemi had done the impossible by making Y/N’s training even more difficult. Not a day went by when she wasn’t completely collapsed on the ground by sunset. It only took a few days before dark shadows under her eyes became visible, and her muscles ached.

Gone too was Sanemi’s softer side. Instead, it seemed as though their relationship was right back where it started, sans the fact that he seemed to slightly tense every single time he caught a glimpse of her scarred leg.

The sun had set, and Sanemi was yelling at Y/N to complete one more series of reps before retiring for the night. The problem, however, was that Y/N’s legs had become gelatinous and were shaking beyond her control, and despite all the willpower that she had sustained within her, it wasn’t enough to pick herself up off the ground.

“Are you really that fuckin’ weak that you can’t even stand up by yourself?” he spat. “You should’ve never become a slayer – this shit is too dangerous for people like you. All you will ever be is demon fodder. Fuckin’ give up and leave the corps if that’s how you’re going to treat the training I give you.” His insults were never-ending, and given how exhausted she was, it took everything within her to not cry at his words.

“I’m fucking trying, Shinazugawa-san!” she choked out. “What the hell did I do for you to treat me this way? Have I not done enough already?” With tears brimming in her eyes, she musters up the courage to ask the question she’s been wondering since that night on the battlefield.

“Do you not have any trust in me at all?” she cried.

Sanemi scoffed and glared at her. “You need to earn my trust, and until you’re able to complete the training I give you without collapsing to the ground like some low-ranked slayer, then you won’t have it.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped and she ignored the tightening sensation in her throat as she resolved to bite back at the cruel man before her.

“Bullshit,” she spat. “You thought I was capable enough to assist you on the last mission. Don’t lie by saying I’ve never earned your trust before.”

Sanemi rolled his eyes. “So what? Maybe I did trust you – before the mission. But you fucking broke it by getting hurt!” he seethed, eyes wide as he looked down at her.

“Maybe if you were capable enough to not get yourself wounded during the fight, then I might’ve still had some trust in you,” he admitted. “You think that I’m just gonna trust someone who gets their leg nearly sliced off to be able to handle themselves?”

“Is that what this is all about? ‘Cause I got some stupid cut on my leg? You can’t be serious–”

“Shut the fuck up. You know damn well it wasn’t just a cut. What if you had gotten slashed somewhere else? What if it had been more severe? What if you–” he didn’t wish to complete that sentence, lest he spoke the thought into existence.

It was the first time she’d seen Sanemi with tears in his eyes.

“It would’ve been my fault, Y/N! My fucking fault if something happened to you! I already told you, I can’t fucking lose someone else. I’ve already lost so many people, and I–” he watched as Y/N stood up, despite the obvious exhaustion in her legs, and walked towards him. “I can’t lose you, too,” he confessed, his voice softer than the wind that gently breezed through her hair. A tear had found its way down his cheek – just over the scar that was bestowed upon him by his own mother. As if by instinct, Y/N wiped it away with the pad of her thumb, but she did not part from his face. Instead, she proceeded to trace her thumb over the jagged scar, and he surprisingly leaned into the touch of her palm against his cheek, his eyes frantically searching her own. She smiled at him, and his breath caught in his throat.

“You have me, Sanemi.”

The groan that he voiced was soft, yet guttural – as though it came from deep within his chest, and he placed his hands on either side of her face, his eyes looking at her with utmost adoration and care, and his lips brushed softly against hers, and Y/N’s eyes were nearly sent reeling back before he closed the gap.

The pleasurable gasp that she emitted caused him to smile into the kiss, his lips slightly chapped, but gentle and loving with how they caressed hers, as though she would shatter under the slightest touch, or that she was a goddess and he a sinner seeking repentance by worshiping her.

“Fuck…wanted to do this for so long,” he breathed against her and his kisses became more needy – something fully welcomed by Y/N as she wrapped her arms around him and her fingers found purchase in his unruly hair. When he parted from her lips, a string of saliva connected his mouth to hers, which only broke as he went back to kiss her with his then swollen lips. He groaned once more before picking her up and carrying her over his shoulder, causing Y/N to yelp in surprise.

“Not letting you go anywhere, baby,” Sanemi grinned and smacked Y/N’s ass as he took her to his estate’s bedroom, which prompted her to roll her eyes at his antics. Yet, she couldn’t help but smile as he gently placed her on his futon and kissed her once more. “Can’t fuckin’ get enough of you, pretty,” he stated before moving down to her neck, where he licked and sucked until he found her pulse point, at which point Y/N moaned softly. “That’s right…feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, knowing full well what her answer was even before she tried to nod her head.

“Sa- Sanemi…” she gasped, her hand cradling the back of his head as he left messy kisses up and down her neck.

“Sound so fuckin’ beautiful, keep saying my name like that, hm?” As he continued kissing her, his hands rose towards the top button of her uniform, a question of “Can I?” to which Y/N nodded. He unbuttoned her top, kissing down her chest and stomach until the clothing was fully removed. In return, Y/N helped remove the bindings that covered her breasts, letting them spill out in full view of Sanemi’s greedy irises. Sanemi wasted no time in latching his mouth to one of her tits, where he lavished her with his tongue whilst massaging and kneading the other with his roughened hand, rolling her nipple in between his fingers and playfully biting down on her breasts every so often solely to hear her whine.

“‘Nemi…need…need more please,” Y/N moaned and he chuckled. “Hm? What do you need, pretty?” Y/N only whined in response and he bit her breast again, causing her to jolt. “Need you to tell me what you want, beautiful,” he continued.

“Need your mouth…” she admitted, slightly embarrassed.

“Oh? Where do you need it?” he asked her before sucking her tit once more.

“Nngh… my– my pussy,” Y/N whined pathetically, to which Sanemi released his mouth from her breast with a lewd pop.

“Good girl,” he praised and started working towards her needy cunt, licking down her torso and leaving kisses and bites on her inner thighs. He took his time working towards her wet heat and ghosted his mouth over her panties, his hot breath permeating the cloth as she impatiently writhed underneath him. He selfishly inhaled her scent before pulling the garment to the side, and leaving a soft kiss against her core, leaving her to whimper when he pulled away to remove her panties, only for him to then lick a fat stripe up her slit. Sanemi moaned deeply and proceeded to pull Y/N towards him by her hips, ensuring that her sweetness was as close as possible to his greedy tongue.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groaned before proceeding to stuff his face full of her pussy once more. The tip of his nose nudged her swollen clit as he gathered her wetness into his mouth by licking into her tight hole and fucking her with his tongue, moaning against her pussy in the process. Y/N began bucking her hips in response, only for him to pin them down with one arm as he used his other hand to start fingering her after moving his mouth to suck on her clit. She moaned with abandon as he began curling his fingers inside of her heat, sucking voraciously on her swollen nub.

“F-Fuck, ‘Nemi! I- I’m gonna cum!” Y/N attempted to writhe underneath him, despite being held back by Sanemi’s arm pinning her down. Her admission only turned Sanemi more eager, causing him to rut against the mattress as he began quickening his fingers inside her and sucking harder on her clit. Y/N’s eyes rolled back and her mouth went agape, screaming and shaking uncontrollably as she came into his awaiting mouth. He licked up every drop that she gave him, using his fingers to coax more of her release onto his tongue, not wanting to waste any of her precious gift.

Y/N sat up and clambered onto him as soon as she came down from her orgasm, and kissed him deeply, tasting herself on his lips and tongue. “Wanna return the favor, ‘Nemi,” she whispered and he flushed red at the thought. “Yeah? Show me, pretty.” Standing up, he tilted her chin with one hand so that she was forced to look up at him from her knees. Using his other hand, he unbuckled his belt and removed it along with his hakama. His cock was thick, with pretty veins traveling all across it, making her nearly drool at the sight. Y/N brought one hand up and collected the precum from the tip of his cock with her thumb, before licking it off. Sanemi groaned, encouraging her to begin stroking his fat dick despite her hand being unable to fully reach around it. She took a curious first lick at his pretty, bulbous head, causing him to shudder, before wrapping her lips around it and sucking as she moved her hand along his thick length.

“Fuck, baby,” Sanemi groaned. Y/N moved her hand to fondle his balls and began taking on more of his length into her mouth, bobbing her head back and forth, a combination of saliva and precum coating his dick. “S-shit– you’re so good at that… fuck,” he groaned.

It took everything within Sanemi to not start fucking her throat at that moment – not wanting to hurt her as she pleasured him. He compromised by grabbing her hair and gently guiding her mouth along his cock, so that he could have some semblance of control over her movements and hence, his orgasm. Before he could cum, he removed her from his length and put his hand underneath her chin, tilting her head up towards his face – a wave of arousal shooting straight through his dick as he saw her swollen, spit-covered lips. “Open,” he commanded, and proceeded to spit into Y/N’s mouth before seeking her lips on his, demanding that she swallow. “Such a good girl for me, I’m gonna fill you up and make you feel perfect, baby,” he promised.

Sanemi pushed her down onto the bed, spreading her legs apart with his. He stroked his cock a few times before lining it up with Y/N’s sopping pussy, selfishly rubbing it up and down her slick folds a few times. He looked into her eyes, seeing her smiling up at him before leaning down and giving a soft kiss to her lips. Y/N moaned softly — unable to wait any longer as she gently wrapped her fingers around his cock, pushing the tip into her tight cunt.

He slowly entered her heat, his shaft stretching open her spongy walls, and he let out a low moan. He lowered himself so that his chest was pressed up against her and his head was in the crook of her neck, and he took Y/N’s hands in his as he started to fuck slowly into her.

“Shit, you’re so perfect for me. You feel so good, baby,” Sanemi moaned and kissed her neck sweetly. Y/N whined as he slowly pulled out just to push his cock back in again – hitting the area that made her see stars. He chuckled, “your pussy just keeps sucking me back in, sweetheart – it’s like she doesn’t want me to leave.” Y/N responded by babbling incoherently, and he looked up at her only to see tears brimming her eyes from the pure pleasure he so graciously gave, and instinctively kissed them away. “Taking my cock so well, such a good girl,” he said before his mouth reached hers, tongue darting between her parted lips before caressing her tongue with his.

His thrusts started to become more desperate, nearly grinding into her – incidentally rubbing against her clit in the process. She moaned against his mouth, her kisses sloppy against his swollen lips. “So good, ‘Nemi…” she whimpered, allowing herself to get lost in the pleasure and heat that he was providing her. He choked on a moan as he continued to rut into her, the squelching sounds of her pussy driving him nearly insane, “gonna cum, pretty. Where– where do you want it?” he asked, surprised he even had the coherency to form words as his mind was half gone from pleasure.

“Inside,” she whined, and his eyes widened, the building tension in his gut rising. “Are you sure?” he asked, and she nodded, writhing underneath him.

“Need it inside…please,” she begged him, and who was he to deny her? His thrusts became sloppier, and he let go of one of her hands to reach down and rub her clit. The pleasure was immense, and Y/N couldn’t think about anything but him as she clenched around his cock as her orgasm flooded through her body – which consequently brought Sanemi over the edge as well, as he all but exploded inside of her hot cunt, groaning deeply as his cum flooded into her womb in thick ropes – causing her to moan and babble incoherently. “Fuck! Fuck– Y/N, I fucking love you,” he confessed in his state of euphoria, and Y/N only fully grasped what he said once he had collapsed on top of her – having just enough energy to pull him up towards her lips to kiss him once more – his lips hot and wet and swollen as they pressed against hers. “I love you too, ‘Nemi. So much,” she confessed, and he looked at her, slightly embarrassed by his own impromptu confession, but beyond elated that she felt the same way.

He slid off of her, his softening cock slipping out of her pussy and he reached his arms around her – wanting nothing more than to hold her close to him as they both lay there on his futon. She smiled lazily in his arms and he kissed her cheek softly. “Not gonna let you go, baby, I swear. I won’t let anything bad happen to you – not anymore,” he said as he gently brushed his rough fingers against her newly formed scar.

“I know, ‘Nemi. I promise I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered softly, and he smiled, thinking that he’d finally found someone to share himself with – someone whom he could shatter into should he feel like breaking, someone who could piece him back together so he could remain strong for the sake of others.

“I know, I trust you.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Oh, how wrong he was.

He swore to himself that he was only parted from her for a second as his pace and heart quickened – traversing through the blood-slicked greenery. Sanemi was plagued by loss – his siblings, his mother, his first love – but the feeling that it would happen yet again never lessened the blow nor the curdling acidity that coursed through his gut.

He frantically searched each corpse along the battlefield, hoping, praying, that he wouldn’t find her among them. Sanemi never considered himself religious – he would rather not believe in any god than believe that an almighty being could allow such devastation to course through his life – through others' lives. However, while mustering the waning strength of his muscles to keep him from collapsing, he called out to the universe – selfishly pleading with it to allow him to keep even a single shred of happiness within his life, swearing that he would give anything to ensure her safety, to secure her life as part of his own.

But the universe turned its back on him once again, as he saw a glimpse of her hair – but it wasn’t her hair. No, Sanemi knew that her hair shined in the morning sunlight, it was beautiful and soft as he would feel it between his fingers – it was never bloodied like it was now.

As he rushed over to Y/N, he nearly puked upon setting his eyes on her. There was a deep gash that cut through her torso – one that couldn’t have been caused by anything but the claws of a demon. He could see her entrails spewing out of it, and as his eyes traveled up towards her face, it was obvious that he was far too late. Her eyes – the ones he loved to get lost in, were lifeless; her lips – the ones that were so soft and loving when he kissed her, were parted in what seemed to be remnants of fear from the last moments of her life.

Sanemi couldn’t take it – and, as though pushed by an invisible force, he was knocked down to his knees.

A wretched sob escaped him as he reached towards her, uncaring of the blood and gore that stained his clothing, and he held her close to him. He sobbed out her name, wishing this was some horrible trick – some fucked up nightmare that he was subjected to, but the longer Sanemi held Y/N in his arms, the more he realized that this was real and that he had broken his promise once again – the promise to protect those close to him.

He picked her up and carried her to a clearing away from the battlefield – where a sole willow tree stood, and resolved to bury her there. As he placed Y/N into the ground, Sanemi wished to carve her name amongst the many scars on his body, so that maybe the blood spilled in her honor would somehow tether his soul to hers, so that he may permanently have her in a way that life itself could not provide.

Hours passed, and he finally managed to stand up once more, his heart hardened once again, and it took everything within him to not look back as he walked away from her gravesite. And, despite not wishing to look upon her grave again, Sanemi committed himself to continue living and fighting in her memory as Y/N slowly returned to dust underneath the lone willow.

And so he did — until his very last breath.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #sanemi shinazugawa #demon slayer smut #kny smut #sanemi x reader #sanemi x y/n #sanemi x you #sanemi smut #shinazugawa sanemi #kny sanemi #kny fanfic #hashira x reader #hashira smut #tw; major character death

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beefboyandbabygirl · 10 months

Text

W.I.T.C.H (Woman In Total Control Of Herself)

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

pairing: elf!jeonghan x witch!fem!reader

genre: fantasy, smut, straight up smut, fluff if you squint?

warnings: HUGE amounts of possessive behaviour, making out, knifeplay? (its arrowplay, a new kink i invented), degradation, manhandling, hairpulling, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), public sex, mindcontrol/witchery?

wordcount: 2k

a/n: alrighty i am BACK and more feral than normal, because this is way longer than it was supposed to be but oh well. this is technically a request/idea from the lovely @hwanghyunjinenthusiast who simply said elf jeonghan and "not sure if thats enough to go on" but here we are 2k words later...

The morning truly couldn’t get any better.

You had awoken in your cottage, the sun kissing your skin through the curtains. A long, drawn out yawn escaped your throat as you stretched the fatigue out of your limbs, and you remembered that because of the full moon last night, today would be the perfect day to go searching for supplies.

So you dug through shelves of potions and crystals for a dress, stepped into your best wandering boots and grabbed a woven basket for ingredients, not forgetting to make sure the protection spell on the cottage was properly set up. Then you strolled through the forest, listening to the frogs croaking “good morning!”, when they heard the familiar sound of your leather boots rustling the fallen leaves. There was no mistaking the forest was magical. Besides the talking frogs of course, the forest glowed. Glowed with all the power of the beings living there, the magic flowing through every flower petal, every root, every dewdrop. The forest wasn’t just scientifically, technically magical. It was also magical in the way humans used the word. Magnificent and wondrous, and you were so glad you got to witness it every day.

After a long walk you finally arrived at the waterfall, the one where you always found the best, most fresh ingredients for your potions and practices. You began to pluck, humming an old melody to yourself as the contents of your basket started to increase.

“Well, well, well. What a lovely surprise.”

You knew that voice. You knew that voice very well.

Unfortunately.

“How much of a surprise is it really, Jeonghan? I'm here after every full moon.”

The elf had been standing there for a while you assumed, because when you turned to face him he was on the other side of the waterfall, in the midst of sharpening his wooden arrows. And he didn’t even need to, you knew that. He was a high elf, born with a silver sword in his sheath. He could simply lounge around with his long blonde hair sitting perfectly, only the tips of his pointy ears peeking through all day. He didn’t have to hunt or fight if he didn’t want to.

And he didn’t want to.

“Yes, well. You don’t own the place”, he replied, before he deemed his arrow sharp enough and nocked it to the bowstring.

“No, I don’t. And neither do you. Though I am aware of how high elves like to think they own everything in this forest.”

Suddenly, a long sharp object flew past you, making a paper thin cut into your cheek and penetrating itself into the tree behind you. You looked back at Jeonghan, furious as you saw him, bow raised and smirking at your reaction.

“Everything, you say?” The elf began walking towards you while you carefully brushed a finger across your cheek, noticing nearly no blood was falling onto it.

“And that includes you, I suppose?”

He was standing close to you now. Very close. So close you could have made out every imperfection in his skin, if he had had any.

Curse elves and their absurd immortality.

“Am I hearing you say you think you own me, Yoon Jeonghan?”

At some point he had kept walking, now pushing your body against the tree behind you, his arrow still sticking out of the bark. You dropped your basket to the ground. A witch like you should know better than to mess with the high elves, but something about Jeonghan hindered you from keeping yourself controlled with the help of your powers.

Jeonghan reached over to the side of your head, pulled the arrow out of the tree and studied it in his hand for a moment.

“Would you like me to?”

The next moment you felt something cold against your neck. The base of the arrowhead met your skin, and you let out a sharp gasp as he twisted it so the sharp side was now pressing into the flesh, but not roughly enough to draw blood.

“Would you like me to prove it to you? I can own you, Y/n L/n. All that is required of you…Is that you allow me to.”

The ground below you felt like quicksand and your head was spinning. You shouldn’t do this, you really shouldn’t, no you should know better. You we’re in control. In control of yourself, your feelings, your responses. But there was nothing you could do to Jeonghan. He was resilient to all your charms and incantations, and even if he wasn’t you wouldn’t dream of what would happen if you tried to magically influence him. You already felt out of control.

Why was it so thrilling?

“Yes…”

Your voice was weak. Heavens, you were already weak.

“Yes what, witch?”

“Take me. I’m yours.”

That was all it took for him to be everywhere. His hair was in your hands, his scent was invading your nostrils and his crotch was pushed tightly against you, already grinding at a steady pace. The moans you were making against his lips were borderline obscene, sinful even.

“Such a little whore, already moaning so loudly for me, out here where anyone could hear you.”

Not completely true. Whether they were wizards, elves, orcs or another type of being, this place was fairly secluded. But the mere thought of somebody stumbling by you, seeing your dress bunched around your hips and Yoon Jeonghan sucking marks to your collarbones, only made you wetter and your moans louder.

Soon enough your bodice was ripped open, and your undergarments gone. Jeonghan brought a hand to your soaked cunt, teasing slowly with a single finger.

“What a good girl you are, already so wet for me, hm?”

His eyes flicked towards where the tip of his finger got coated in your slick, and as arousing as it was to watch his eyes glaze over in lust, it was equally frustrating that he was doing nothing.

So you got it together. Breathed in through your nose, and closed your eyes, focusing. Focusing on his finger prodding at your entrance, his hot breath on your ear, his hand on your waist. Then you tracked. Tracked the strings of his nerves, through his veins all the way to his heartbeat. It rang loud in your ears, and now you could truly feel all of him.

“What…”

Steadily, his breaths against your ear became faster, the tempo of his heartbeat increasing, as you focused on him and only him.

“What…In the names of the saints are you doing to me witch?”

He fell to his knees. Right there, in the outskirts of the forest, you watched as Yoon Jeonghan fell to his knees in front of you. You didn’t raise his heartbeat enough to hurt him, of course. Just enough to heighten his lust. Just enough to drive him mad.

“You’re not the only one with tricks, Yoon Jeonghan. Now get to work before I stop your heart completely.”

That seemed to be enough of a threat for Jeonghan to begin licking and sucking at your pussy like a man possessed, or maybe he was just as sick of the teasing as you were. Clawing at his blonde locks, throwing your leg over his shoulder, you were letting him devour you as drops of water from the waterfall splashed onto your exposed legs. Never had you felt so featherlight, so completely, and it sounded ironic, bewitched.

“Jeonghan, fuck s’good- Ah!”, you moaned breathily as he hit a spot that felt just right. When you looked down, you caught his eyes fixated on you, wispy bangs obscuring his vision but not enough to mask that twinkle of something in his eyes. Something intoxicating.

Something possessive.

As soon as your gaze had met his, you reached your high, hardly able to register that Jeonghan didn’t stop after.

He was mumbling something dirty against your inner thighs, but the blood was still roaring in your ears and all you could think about was how desperately you needed him inside of you.

“Jeonghan…More, please.”

His ministrations on your thighs didn’t stop as he responded.

“Hm? More what darling?”

You caught your lip between your teeth, trying to hide the sudden downpour of bashfulness washing over you at the prospect of having to vocalize what you wanted from him. Him, this ridiculous, cocky bastard of a creature that you always thought you despised.

“Want…Want you inside me, Jeonghan please”, you whispered.

He got up from his spot on the ground, now much bigger and taller when he was looming over you like this, one hand on the tree behind you to cage you in.

“I think you can do better than that.”

You whimpered.

“For heaven's sake Jeonghan, please, I’ll do anything!”

A scoff left his lips as he smirked and ran his tongue over his teeth, thinking over his decision.

“Probably shouldn't be making deals with a witch…But what the hell”, he mumbled before grabbing your hips and turning you around, so your hands were planted firmly against the surface of the tree.

“For a beautiful witch like yourself, I will do anything.”

Those whispered words were enough to leave your cunt even more soaked, and it didn’t help when you felt the tip of his hard cock nustling in between your folds (you had no idea when he had got rid of his pants but oh well, magic right?).

“Been thinking about this, you know? Everytime I see you here, ah-”

He pushed into you slowly, producing strangled grunts and moans from the both of you.

“Everytime I see you, In these cute dresses, bending over every fucking second.”

Then he thrusted into you sharply. You would’ve fallen over if you didn’t have the tree to support you.

“Always thought about just walking right up to you, and taking you right then and there. And everytime I saw you bathe here, fuck. Just wanted this body all to myself.”

The thought of him having seen you bathing in the waters, naked, should have scandalized you, but instead it left your legs wobbly and your mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

It went on like that for a while. A long while, in fact, of him grunting lewd secrets and confessions against your skin while you begged him to let you come. And eventually he did, because just like you too had promised, he would do anything, especially if it involved having his cum dripping out of you by the end.

He helped you get your undergarments back on, now obviously ruined, and then he kissed you.

Not like he had just a few moments earlier. It was short and oddly intimate.

“What was that?” You tried your best to look disgusted.

“A kiss, darling. Have I really fucked you that dumb?”

You rolled your eyes at him and picked up your basket again. It suddenly felt a lot heavier.

“Whatever, it’s not like it’ll happen ever again.”

He laughed at that. Fully, shamelessly, loudly laughed with his pants half on and his hair an absolute mess (and it was never a mess). There was something quite endearing about it.

“Oh, darling…Oh, you’re just adorable.”

Quickly he laced his pants up, and walked over to you again.

“We’ve made a deal, haven’t we?”, he said, grabbing your hand in his.

“Anything, no? That was the deal?”

No words could form in your tongue, his searing touch the only thing consuming your thoughts. You realized you might have actually gotten yourself into something very…Complicated. Complicated but strangely exciting.

He simply smiled at your lack of response.

“Don’t be a stranger, Y/n.”

His hand raised yours to his lips, as he planted the most gentle of kisses on your knuckles.

Then he was gone. Walked into the mist between the trees and the grass and became one with it.

You had no idea what to think of Yoon Jeonghan after that.

Other than how you already wanted to see him again.

#seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt smut #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan oneshot #jeonghan request

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msgexymunson · 2 years

Text

Kickstart My Heart Part 2

Switch!Eddie x Switch!Fem!Reader

Description: Eddie's certainly met his match. As you look to take your relationship to the next level, can you be vulnerable with him?

Warnings: NSFW, reader uses she/her pronouns, hella smut, loads of fluff, Minors DNI or I'll shove crayons up your nose, marijuana use, slight switch/kinda dom from both a bit? Fem!fingering, Fem!oral receiving, M!oral/hand job receiving for like a minute, p in v protected sex, I think that's it?

A/N: something about Eddie falling hard and fast just gets me. I'm working on a pt 3 but that will probably be it. If you want to be added to the tags let me know!

5.5k words

Masterlist Part 1 Here

Eddie's in the cafeteria, grinning to himself, being unusually quiet. Every time he closes his eyes there's an image of you ingrained on his eyelids it seems. Your frame; lacy underwear and soft skin juxtaposed against the demon like wings of your tattoo. He is well and truly smitten. It had taken him a while to sleep that night, he just couldn't stop looking at you laying in his arms. You two had spent the next day together, taking turns picking the music, sometimes making out, sometimes just chatting, until it was late and he had driven you home. Not that he had wanted to, but you insisted. He hadn't seen you since. Two whole days. It was driving him crazy. Tonight was Hellfire, he was supposed to be running the D&D club but he had no idea how he was going to focus.

"Eddie, what's up?" Dustin is waving his hand in Eddie's face, trying to get his attention. He pulls himself of out his revelry and sighs.

"Nothing big guy" and smiles a tight lipped smile, gripping Dustin by the shoulder.

"You didn't tell us, did you find her, in the end?" Dustin smiles at Eddie hopefully.

Eddie grins, his face flushing slightly "You could say that Henderson." Oh you've got no fuckin' idea buddy.

As if on cue, the door to the hall swings open and you walk in, lunch in hand. Breath catching in his throat, Eddie stares. It was hot today so you had opted for a short denim skirt, a black tank top and sneakers. You look around the room, searching, when your eyes land on him. You both look at each other, idiotic smiles on your faces, oblivious to the chaos of the lunch hall around you. Everything drops into background noise as your eyes make contact. It all seems irrelevant.

Walking over you look for a seat. Eddie manhandles Dustin, pushing him, making him move up. Dustin's visibly confused; then he looks up and sees you. "Holy shit." Then looks at Eddie. You take a seat next to him, smirking at Eddie. He's lost, looking into your face.

"You gonna introduce me or what Munson?" You chuckle.

"Fuck yes, sorry. Guys, this is y/n."

You're introduced to to group, and the chatter continues. Eddie's hand hesitantly lands on your knee. You smile, sneaking your hand under the table, and move his hand higher up your thigh. His brows raise and his eyes go wide, and you giggle.

'So boys, what's with the matching t shirts?"

As if you flicked some imaginary switch, you're bombarded with several excited teenaged voices all at once.

Eddie's voice cuts through the cacophony.

"Woah don't scare the lady!"

Dustin speaks. "It's Dungeons and Dragons, a role playing game. We're part of a club, Eddie's our Dungeon Master, it's so awesome." You smile at Dustin, genuinely pleased. He even plays D&D, now that's something. You hadn't brought it up before, thinking Eddie might think you're a nerd, but you loved that fantasy game. It gave you an escape.

As you were eating your lunch, Dustin was speaking with Mike, saying how they needed to defeat Vecna.

"And how you gonna manage that, what you got the sword of Kas or something?" You smile sweetly, with as much innocence that you can muster.

"You play D&D??" Both Eddie and Dustin exclaim. Jaws around the table drop.

"Play it? I ran it. Was a DM myself in Chicago before I came back to Hawkins."

Eddie's hand grips your thigh as he looks at you. "You're... you're fucking perfect." He can't take his eyes off you, huge doe eyes blinking at you.

"God get a room!" says Dustin.

Mike rolls his eyes. "I told you, she's basically you!"

You both laugh at that. You lean over to Eddie and whisper in his ear, "fancy a smoke Dungeon Master?" He almost whimpers and immediately gets up, dragging you up by the wrist, and you both tear out of the cafeteria together, giggling as you run.

*******************

Almost jogging out of the hall, you run over to the bench that's hidden in the woods. Eddie chases you, grappling you as you laugh. When he catches you he suddenly lifts you up in the air by the waist and pretends to bite at your stomach. giggling and squealing you try to wiggle free. He sets you down on the bench, his bites turning into kisses, palms pressing into your sides.

"Where were you yesterday, I missed you."

"Its been like, one day!"

"Two days!" He pouts, then pulls you in for a kiss. You press your lips against his, all of a sudden feeling light headed. Pulling away you attempt to compose yourself.

"Ok two days! Sorry, I had detention at lunch. Something about a shoe connecting to a certain face?"

Eddie kisses you again, his lips moving to your neck. "Jesus princess, you really are like me."

You laugh at that, but your laugh turns into a moan when he starts biting and sucking at your neck.

"Eddie..."

"Your fault princess." He says into your collarbone, in between nips. "You go around calling me dungeon master."

"Oh, did you like that, master?"

"Mmph" Eddie makes a sound into your neck, hands falling to your thighs, his thumbs rubbing soft circles onto your skin.

"And this skirt, I mean, what's a guy to do?" He continues to rub at your thighs, thumbs massaging you.

"Oh that feels good baby." You tilt your head back, enjoying the feel of his fingers on you so much you're partially grinding into the table. I wish the bench was his thigh.

"Carry on like that and I wont be able to control myself." He says hotly.

Rubbing higher, one of his hands reaches under your skirt. "Tell me to stop." He stares at you with a serious face, all joking forgotten.

You lean forward at his touch, realising how much you missed it, chasing it.

"No. I want you to touch me Eddie." He smiles at you, a dark glint in his eye.

He moves his hand higher, stroking your pussy through your panties making you groan. The pressure that builds in your stomach is almost comical; no ones ever made you feel this good this fast.

"Really princess, at lunch, at school? Filthy girl." He gives you a lopsided smile.

"Eddie... oh fuck." His thumb rubs on your clothed clit, tracing lazy circles.

His fingers run down the hem of your underwear, stroking your bare skin. Your breath quickens; you feel a pulse deep inside your cunt, crying out for his touch. His fingers graze your bare clit and you moan out loud, clinging onto his shoulders.

Eddie is enjoying every second of this, staring at you, drinking in every sound you make. This is what he's wanted to feel ever since he saw your face. His hand moves your panties out of the way and starts rubbing at your bare clit. You moan with pleasure at the naked touch, your back arching, tingles running all over your body. Pressing a finger to your entrance, he smirks at your sudden intake in breath. It pushes in. You're so wet his finger glides right in to the hilt, grazing your g spot. You gasp, feeling the warmth of his hand, and the cold of his ring touching you as he pushes his finger all the way in.

"Eddie!" You moan, rocking into him.

"Easy princess, I've got you." He whispers into your ear. You reach out, kissing his neck, running your hands into his hair. It's so soft under your curling fingers. You grip into him, riding his touch. He pushes another finger in to the hilt, curling into you. The feeling is electrifying. You moan in response "fuck yes Eddie right there!"

He chuckles, almost mocking you. "Kay, sweetheart, right here?" He curls his fingers into you, faster, harder. Arching your back you quiver in his grasp, the amazing feeling pacing through your every nerve. His thumb reaches out and touches your clit and you become putty in one of Eddie's hands. You can't help but think, this is just one hand, imagine what the rest of him can do?

The pressure is building, you rock into his fingers, feeling your climax begin.

"Eddie I'm gonna, oh fuck..."

"Cum for me baby." You feel his hot breath on your neck, his command driving through you.

You tense up and the feeling explodes out of you in a loud moan, head snapping back, toes curling. The heat pours out of you, its palpable, coming hard around his fingers. The squeeze is immense. You feel your wetness squirt out, coating him, soaking him. He keeps curling into you with his digits gently, coaxing your orgasm out as long as he can. You sit there, breathless, unable to move, coming down from the amazing feeling. Steadying your breathing you gaze at him. There's a look emanating from him that you can't quite place, a sparkle in his eyes.

"Fucking hell Eddie!" You moan breathlessly.

He grins at you, pulling his fingers out. The feeling drags against your insides, making you bite your lip. You pull him in for a kiss.

"You're a filthy girl, you know that?" He smirks, damn pleased with himself.

"I-I mean, fuck Eddie, that was... wow." You grab at him, pawing at him, taken away by the moment.

Holding your jaw, he looks deep into your eyes. His nose nuzzles yours. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." You admit, smiling at him, hand stroking his neck.

"I think I'm falling in love with you." He stares into your eyes, all mockery forgotten.

"Fuck off." Laughing at him, you push him in the chest. Deflecting.

"I'm serious!" Almost offended, he grabs your hip and kisses you on the cheek.

"Eddie...." you don't know what to say. No one ever wants you. Ever.

"Its ok, you don't have to say anything just... just be mine, ok?"

"What, be your girlfriend?" A lump pushes into your throat.

"Yes, please?" He looks at you, pleading, staring at you with puppy dog eyes. Some resolve inside you melts, never to return. A wall that you had built up had dissolved with those two words.

"Well, I suppose. If you want me." You say back. Please want me.

"Of course I want you, look at you! You're incredible." He kisses your neck again, leaving marks in his wake.

"Eddie, I... just not used to anyone, wanting me." You mumble. You aren't, its true.

Eddie holds your hands in his, eyes making contact with yours. "You are perfect, and beautiful, and just incredible sweetheart, why wouldn't I want you?" His eyes bare into your soul.

You grin, a flush rushing to your cheeks.

The bell rings in the distance. A reminder of real life; one you would both rather forget right now. "We better go baby unless you want to be kept back another year."

"Ok princess." He presses a hot kiss into your mouth, sending shivers down your spine "One for the road!" He winks.

*****************

It was Friday evening and you were so excited to see Eddie; in every thought of yours he was ransacking your brain. He had invited you to Hellfire earlier in the week, but he was so close to the end of the campaign, you didn't want to jump in at the last minute. It wouldn't be long until a new campaign was started after all, and honestly you weren't sure about him having all the control.

He was picking you up from your house at 7pm, and you were in your room in the basement trying to decide what to wear. You did enjoy having the space to yourself, foster parents were hardly ever there, and you basically had a self contained apartment, minus a kitchen, with your own door in and out. You had told Eddie to knock at the back door since no one else was at home.

Standing there, looking down on your bed in a tartan kilt skirt and your bra, trying to decide what top to wear.

It's literally two band t shirts, why is this difficult.

You finally decide on the Poison T shirt and slip it on, tying it at the waist to accentuate your figure. Stepping over to the small shelf and precariously balanced mirror that serves as your vanity, you attend to your curls, spraying hair spray and singing along to the music you had playing. The song changed on the cassette and you hear Bad Company, Can't get Enough start to play. Smiling to your self you start to sway to it, singing along. Pretty soon you start dancing around the room, singing breathily, "well I'll take, whatever I want, and baby, I want you..." Really getting into the music, you're dancing away, oblivious to your surroundings, singing aloud as you love to do, hips swaying. "Well its late, and I want love, love that's gonna break me in two..."

"You mean that princess?"

You let out a shriek, feet nearly leaving the floor as you jump at the unexpected voice. Eddie's sitting at the top of the stairs to the basement, giggling like a kid, having sneaked in from the back door.

"Fuck Eddie, you scared the hell out of me!"

"Sorry princess " He chuckles, "but I heard singing and I had to listen. Didn't know I was gonna get a private show." He wiggles his eyebrows at you mischievously.

He stands up and walks over to you, grinning from ear to ear. You blush, realising you had been gyrating your hips in such a carefree manner, blissfully unaware of his presence for a moment. He takes your hips in his hands. You wish you could bottle the look on his face, the want in his eyes is intense, the chemistry between you palpable.

"You don't need to be embarrassed sweetheart, that was really something." He says lowly, kissing you, need written all over his features.

You almost forget you are supposed to be mad at him for coming in unannounced, enveloping yourself in the feel of him, the taste of him. You break from the kiss reluctantly, trying to tear yourself away from his magnetism.

"You should really learn to knock Munson."

"You should keep your door locked. Lots of weirdos around here." He pulls a manic face at you, tongue hanging out.

You laugh at him and kiss him again, swinging your arms around his neck. Eddie smiles at you, "so this is the princesses castle, huh? Your parents home?"

"Foster parents. No, they're out."

Eyes widening, Eddie looks at you but you look away, not quite ready for that conversation. He presses a kiss to your temple.

Breaking from your hold he walks around the room, looking at the posters on the walls, the books on your shelf, a tower of precariously balanced cassettes. He runs his hands over your meagre belongings, your life. You cant help but stare at those large hands of his, thinking about them on your ass, your thighs, your throat. A flush threatens to creep up your neck.

"So did you mean it?" Eddie asks, his face serious for a moment.

"What?" You shake yourself out of your revelry and stare at him in confusion.

"You seemed quite certain about it a minute ago, 'love that's gonna break you in two'?" He grins at you wolfishly, but there is a questioning edge to his voice.

Embarrassed, your cheeks flush again, but you smile back at him, "today might be your lucky day Munson."

Eddies face is a picture. He picks you up and spins you round, yelling excitedly. You giggle and cling to his neck.

"Well what are we waiting for?"

*****************

It was a couple of hours later and you were laying next to Eddie in his room on top of the covers, having just eaten what felt like your entire weight in pizza. Eddie was sitting up cross legged, shirtless, rolling a joint. You don't quite know how he had lost his shirt, but you certainly weren't complaining. Sneakily you were gazing up at him, looking at his lean frame, watching the muscles knot in his shoulders. Your gaze transferred to his face, that look of concentration that warmed your heart, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth. A movie was playing, an awful horror b movie but your view was much more interesting. God, he's mesmerising.

He finishing rolling and handed it to you.

"Milady."

"Well what an honour good Sir!" You say back, taking the joint and putting it to your lips, motioning at Eddie to pass you the lighter. He flicks the lighter and holds the flame close, then pulls it away at the last minute. You huff at him, joint hanging from your mouth. He leans forward, and does it again! Pushing at him playfully you grab for the lighter as he holds it up in the air away from you.

"Aw come on Munson, no fair!" You jump up then and crawl in his lap, extending your arm to reach. He laughs at your feeble attempt, and you stand on the bed in front of him to grab it triumphantly and look down at Eddie.

He is not paying the slightest attention. His focus has been taken by your very short skirt at his eye level. You go to sit down again but he grabs the back of your thighs and leans into you, starting to kiss and lick. Moaning at the sensation, his hands wander up your skirt, onto your ass. He groans then. Eddie's utterly enthralled by you. Transfixed.

"You're wearing a thong, what are you doing to me sweetheart." Flipping your skirt up and cranking his neck, he tries to look at your ass.

You giggle and wiggle free, sitting on the bed cross legged in front of him, lighting the joint. "You are such a joker baby."

"And you are a tease." He smirks. A point we made. You take another drag then hand the joint to him.

Passing it back and forth, you enjoy a comfortable silence, when he suddenly jumps up, surprising you.

"Shit I forgot. I got you a present!" He rummages through a drawer. "Here." Thrusting a small bundle of fabric at you. You open it up, intrigued. It's a Hellfire T shirt. You grin, looking at the design.

"Dustin will not shut up about you, so you have to come to the next one." He beams at you.

"That's adorable." You grin back, cheeks flushed.

"Turn it over, come on, look at the back!" He's practically bouncing.

You do. In smaller print, across the back in a cursive script, was the word Princess.

"Seriously? You are an ass." He laughs and drags you towards him for a kiss, pulling you into his lap.

"Are you trying to brand me Munson?"

He clings to your hips, enjoying the feel of you in his lap. Never want to let you go sweetheart.

"Hardly a brand, wait til I get a tattoo gun." He wiggles his eyebrows at you, "got to let everyone know your mine."

You look into his eyes and sit back a little on his legs, undoing the knot you had put in your T shirt, pulling it over your head. Your black lace bra is on display and Eddie is mesmerised, swallowing hard. Pulling the Hellfire t shirt on, you notice it's a little shorter, exposing just a sliver of midriff. You can faintly see the outline of your dark bra through the material.

"Its a little tight Eddie."

"I bet it is." He runs his finger across the exposed skin on your belly, biting his bottom lip.

"Eddie!" The grin on his features looks dipped in sin.

He leans towards you and runs his tongue where his fingers were, planting soft kisses, slowly lifting the hem of your top, planting open mouthed kisses on your midriff. His palms press into your hips and you feel the bite of his cold rings in your flesh, the feeling you've been waiting for.

He picks you up and lifts you, placing you on the bed on your back, beneath him. His head is between your legs as his hand starts rubbing up the inside of your thighs whist he is trailing kisses down your body. You moan low in your throat. Tendrils of arousal creep over your skin, blossoming from each touch from his rough hands.

Eddie groans into your legs. "Fuck, I really want to taste you sweetheart."

He looks up at you for confirmation. You smile and nod at him.

He carefully lifts up your skirt, taking in the sight of your little black panties. He gently runs his index finger down the front of them, rubbing softly. "These are pretty."

You moan back, moving your hips, trying to get more contact. You need to feel his touch desperately. He reaches under your skirt with both hands to pull your underwear down as you lift yourself up to help him. For a moment he just looks at you, taking it all in.

He moves towards you, leaning in and you feel his breath on your pussy. You nearly shake with anticipation and nerves. He plants a kiss just above, and stops.

"Is this still ok?" He looks up, searching your eyes.

You look down at him, slightly breathless, biting your lip. "Please Eddie, I want this." Eddie wishes he could take a picture and preserve the way you look forever.

You immediately feel his tongue run all the way up you then, starting to lap at your slit. You whimper at the feeling. It's so intense. He starts sucking on your clit with fervour, massaging it with his tongue.

"Holy Shit Eddie!" You cry out.

He grins into you, moving his thumb to replace his tongue, tracing patterns over you. "I've been thinking about doing this all day."

"I've never, fuck, I've never let anyone... do this before." You manage to say, enjoying the moment but embarrassed at the same time.

"Well I must be the luckiest guy in the fucking world." And he buries his face into you, licking and sucking, eating you out like you were his last meal. You're dripping wet, from your own juices as well as his tongue, you cant help but writhe on the bed, your back arching, the dirtiest moans exploding from your mouth.

He pushes two fingers into you suddenly and you gasp, your pussy clenching down on them, eager to have something inside of you. He sucks at your clit whilst he curls his fingers into your sweet spot almost immediately, and you are so overwhelmed by the glorious feeling that tears spring into your eyes.

There's no warning. You are suddenly riding your climax like an enormous wave, crying out his name, the pleasure coursing through your every vein. The only word you seem to know or want to say is his name, over and over, as if you were praying. It certainly feels like a religious experience. His fingers stay inside you, curling up to the hilt, and he's on his knees, watching you orgasm. You finally sink back down into the bed and he removes his hand from you, sitting back onto his heels, eyes shining.

Definitely falling for her.

"That ok princess?"

You manage a breathless nod, still gripping onto the pillow with your hands, pink faced and gasping.

"I could watch you cum over and over. Shit you are loud. Beautiful." he chuckles, his breath taken away by your reaction to him.

You babble something, incapable of words just yet. He grins at his handiwork and wipes his mouth, reaching over for the half a joint in the ashtray. He takes a hit and puts it to your lips. You take a long toke, hold it in, then breathe out.

"That's my girl. You want another one?" You still cant speak, just nod feebly and pucker your mouth. He laughs and puts the joint back in and let's you take another hit.

After a few minutes you manage to sit up a bit. He's smiling smugly at you.

"I don't think I've ever cum that hard in all my life." You say to him truthfully. He beams at you, so proud of himself, and lays next to you, cuddling you. He looks at you, brow furrowed, like he has something on his mind.

"You know you said you hadn't done that before... are you...." the question lingers in the air.

"No. I'm not a virgin if that's what you mean."

"Oh, ok, just skipped a step?"

"Yes. No. I mean, it's just, that is really.. intimate."

"And fucking isn't?"

You giggle at that. "Not in the same way. Going down on me, I don't know it just makes me feel, vulnerable. It's intimate in a different way, you know?"

"I can understand that." He nuzzles into your shoulder.

You turn to him and start undoing his belt and pulling his jeans off. He kicks them off his feet like they offend him and you feel his bulge through his boxers whilst you are kissing at his neck.

"You're really hard."

"You're really pretty."

Smiling, he pulls your top off, then your skirt. Unwrapping you slowly, like you are a gift. He holds you close, undoing your bra. It falls away, leaving you naked in his arms. You look up at him through your lashes, suddenly feeling shy. He lifts your chin and stares into your eyes. "You are really pretty. You look incredible right now." He kisses you full on the lips. Eddie's looking at you, his heart brimming. Is this even happening Munson?

"You're the pretty one, my pretty boy." You stroke his face. He beams at you.

'Ya think so?"

"Yep, super pretty."

You kiss him back, a long lingering kiss. Could this feeling go on forever? He strokes your hair and pulls you in tighter. You could stay like this for hours, held in his arms, the world around you melting away, insignificant compared to his touch. He runs his hands over you, stroking your skin, making your hairs stand on end.

Starting to kiss his neck, you leave little kitten licks, and move your way to his earlobe. You take it into your teeth and bite it gently, one hand tugging at his hair. He groans at that, leaning his head back, reaching to your exposed breast, tentatively rubbing your nipple.

"Oh fuck, Eddie," You run your hand slowly down his naked torso, lightly scratching with your nails, making your way to the band of his boxers. Your other hand scouts into his hair, entwining into his locks.

"Seems unfair, why aren't you naked?" You whisper in his ear.

"Because I'm clearly an idiot" he says to you, and pulls the boxers off in one swift motion, clearly very eager. You giggle, until you look down, frozen.

"Eddie, that's... impressive." You say to him, taking his dick into your hand, feeling the sheer girth of the thing. Its smooth, and rock solid. You can see the veins throbbing. You roll it into your hand slowly, rubbing lazily over it, examining it, unaware that he is unravelling underneath your careless touch.

"Fuck princess... I- fuck."

You look up and see his face, head tipped back in bliss, mouth open. Without thinking, You lean forward and take the tip of his cock into your mouth, running your tongue around in circles.

"Princess holy shit you're gonna kill me!" You laugh as he pulls you away, his stomach muscles clenching. "Seriously if you do that I'm just gonna cum right now." He looks at you hungrily, as if you were a meal for him to devour.

"Now that would be a damn shame. Do you have a condom?"

"Of course Milady, can't have you riding the knight without your steed!"

"Oh my God you nerd!"

You giggle as he jumps up and grabs them from his bedside, ripping one open with his teeth. He takes it out and rolls it down his length, rubbing it a couple of times.

"Lie back princess."

You snort and push him against the headboard.

"I thought you said I was riding? You lie back." And before he can say a word you're straddling him, his thighs between your legs. You hold his length and spit on it, rubbing your makeshift lube over his dick.

"Fuck that's filthy sweetheart." Eddie doesn't think he's ever been so turned on in his life.

Cockily you smile at him, moving onto his lap, your slit rubbing against his swollen member.

You look into his eyes, searching. "You sure you want this?"

"Aren't I suppose to be saying that? Of course I do, look at you, you're perfect."

You look deep into his eyes and slowly take his throbbing member into you, inch by inch, grapping his shoulder tightly for balance. You both moan in unison. He's stretching you, and you cry out softly. You keep pushing down until there's no more to take, utterly full.

"My God, Eddie..." tears start to form in your eyes.

"Hey, princess what's wrong?" His face is a picture of concern, holding his hand to your cheek.

"You're fucking... big Eddie." He cant help but smirk at that, stroking your arm.

"Its ok, it's ok, just, wait a minute. Just relax."

You feel your walls relaxing slightly, and you start to slowly rock into him. He feels incredible inside you, impossibly deep.

"Sweetheart, you feel, amazing. You're so fucking tight, wow." His voice is rough, heady, filled with lust. He grabs you by the hips and increases your pace. You squeal, grinding into him, your sopping wet pussy making downright pornographic noises. You join in, moaning and mewling, crying out his name.

Full on bouncing on his dick, Eddie looks so fucked out underneath you. Hair is plastered to his face, sweat covering his brow. He can't decide between staring at your lust blown eyes, watching your tits, or watching your pussy suck him in on each bounce.

You ride him harder, faster, grinding down so your clit is rubbing against him, adding to the pleasure. You feel fireworks, intense explosions of pleasure rocking into your body, crashing all around you. You scream his name, tears falling from your eyes, coming hard. Looking into his eyes, his face is pleading with you. It's a moment you wish could stretch on forever.

"Princess you're squeezing so tight, I'm gonna...fuck."

"Its ok Eddie, fuck me. I want to feel you cum." He moans loudly at that, holding you to him.

"Sorry princess, I just need to..." he pushes you down so that he's on top of you, and pushes your knees in the air. His pulsating member is pushing into your sweet spot making you see stars as he rolls his hips into you.

Your hand finds his, interlocking fingers as your other drags nails across his back. His movements start to become sloppy and you move your hips up to meet his thrusts, feeling him quiver above you, thrusting twice more before collapsing on you with a low groan, utterly spent.

You lie there, wrapped around him, arms, legs, just holding on. He looks at you, raises one hand to move a stray hair out of your face.

"That was... "

"Intense?" You supply, smirking at him, slightly breathless.

"Yeah you could say that, Jesus Christ." He moves and slides out of you, so he can dispose of the condom, then re-joins you in a tangle on the bed. He turns again to look at you. "I was gearing up to be all soft, I should have known you were gonna be a freak." He grinned. You hit him playfully on the arm.

"You have absolutely no idea Munson."

"Mmph" Eddie's laying there, grinning, eyes closed, stroking your side, thinking if there is a heaven, this is it.

"So you have a license for that?" You ask, smirking to yourself.

"For what?" Eddie asks, his eyes still closed.

"That fucking weapon you have between your legs." You tickle his side gently.

Eddie laughs and pulls you in closer, smelling your hair. "Now you can come over more often sweetheart, just to boost my ego." He kisses you on the forehead.

Yeah, feels like heaven.

Tag List- If you want to be tagged please comment/reblog with a note thanks ILY

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shadow-is-now-sinning · 6 months

Text

Content: General Horny headcanons. Ganondorf calculations. General Ganondorf .

Kinks and activities mentioned: Size kink, fingering(Ambiguous)

Ganondorf only for now(I was tempted to put stuff for Ganon, phantom Ganondorf and Demise).

Reader: This post his general, gender neutral, without mentions of genitalia. Butt stuff fair game. Reader is refered to as smaller than Ganondorf because no matter the iteration he's at least 7'6" feet<228.6 cm> (Oot source Hyrule Historia) and they keep making him bigger. (Gamespot pixel counted and said Totk Ganondorf is about 10 feet <305cm>) you/your

Pussy having reader version

Dick having reader version

More of this

General Headcanons

Ganondorf's goods

As we all know he's big. Big in every aspect. I don't like to designate specific sizes or details for self projection sake but for the people that asked I'll attempt to describe it for y'all. Despite what people think height doesn't equal bigger dick but ignore this because he a big boy anyway. After some tasteful research. Which means I looked at studies of hand to penile length calculations, looked up some fan estimates he's at least 22.9cm <9 inches> though I'd personally say bigger. Girth could also be wild but I will limit it to 17.78 cm <7 inches> in max because the human anus can stretch to 17.78 cm <7-7.5 inches> if you're into that feel free to go bigger. It's hefty. Hangs down when erect. I'd go with uncut.

Balls are also heavy. They really fill your palm. I see people use breeder balls very often but I think it's an apt description of these boys.

Ganondorf carries more that one great sword 👍 (watch me edit this out at a later date)

Cum wise I imagine him with a thicker consistency. Opaque. Slightly salty. He has no preference where he cums so if you do be sure to tell him.

Ganondorf is a king who takes self maintenance serious. Literally never looks bad or ungroomed. Though I believe there wouldn't be time to shave. He is clean and would most likely trim beforehand if he thinks he'll initiate intercourse.

Muscle lovers are feasting good. Nice ass and thighs with every iteration. Torso changes but I think all of them are pretty good.

Ganondorf is not that vocal during the act. Usually only responding when talked to or the need arises. Confirmation of continued consent or if something is working etcetera.

Ganondorf's kinks

I will say his kinks probably change depending one which iteration you're looking at though some are shared. I'd peg Ganondorf as uncaring of his partner's sex.

-Size kink(all) is an obvious one. He's so much bigger sometimes he doesn't even need to undress to overwhelm his lover as they struggle to take his fingers. Though he also enjoys the reverse of his smaller partner taking control. Just don't instigate a coup on your self.

-Going along with size kink Ganondorf likes to Manhandle. Holding his partner in the air, holding them down and moving them mid bang and some iterations are into being a little rough physically.

-Praise kink both receiving and giving. (All) Oot Ganondorf sometimes leans into the mocking variety. Warriors very sparingly praises but always means it.

-Degradation kink giving only.(OoT, TP, ToTK) Twilight Princess is that classy degradation. Wind Waker would attempt but wouldn't be able to do it long as he feels it's dehumanizing. All you'd really get is the rare times when he's outraged.

OoT makes me think he'd be into Dacryphilia.(ToTK as well but lesser)

Roleplay involving power imbalance. OoT only if he's the higher power, HW he'll humor being the lower power, TP occasionally either or.

ToTK generally refuses to give up power unless you offer in a specific way. Such as it being akin to worship or that he's so powerful he doesn't even bother to give an effort. Stroke both is dick and his ego. Predator/Prey is the only exception you can't convince him to act prey like.

Exhibitionism. Even if an iteration doesn't care for others seeing their partner naked. He is a possessive and jealous man. He revels in showing off what's his and other's knowing they're off limits. If he has access to a throne...

Body worship. Both receiving and giving. He enjoys letting his partner know how much he desires them and vice versa.

Note: I'm not really into Degradation, Daceyphilia, so I can really get into depth as I would like. If you have ideas feel free to send it in. For educational purposes of course.

Reader Insert Headcanons

Regardless of how much you weigh or how big you are. He'd be able to pick you up. He likes letting you know this. So malleable small in his grasp. Sometimes his hand makes it's way around your neck. Not tightly but the warmth makes it clear it's there and how much only one hand wraps around you.

He's patient taking his time, relishing it it even, working you open. OoT and ToTk will more inclined to edge you until he can fully slip in. If you voice annoyance he'll do the opposite overstimulating you until he's satisfied.

Very encouraging of you to make noise. Perhaps say how well he's doing. WW is basically the only iteration who's not overly teasing.

Sessions where Ganondorf's focuses solely on you are mostly non penetrative.(unless you request) Outercourse, and intercrural being the focus.

Adding on to that he finds hit very endearing and cute if during a thigh job his tip peeks out the other side. Those he'd praise you if your thighs cover all of him.

Feel free to ride his thighs to completion. He'll let you go unless you ask for his touch. He doesn't hesitate to join fondling and presses kisses where he can reach without disrupting your ministrations. He waits until either you cum or plea for him to help release your buildup.

Couple things for Anorgasmia

Whether it's just difficult or complete lack Ganondorf doesn't mind if you can't come. If it's difficult but possible and you want to climax, he'll have you guide him. Telling him how and we're to touch to force out that climax.

Otherwise he relies on you informing him of he's doing something that's uncomfortable or painful.

#ganondorf dragmire #legend of zelda #ganondorf x reader #gender neutral reader

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hitomisuzuya · 1 year

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childe & scara x reader where they both just fucking manhandle herrr… scrqtches my. brain so good i love these two,,

A/n: That makes my brain go brrrrrrrrr.

Smut. Sparring that turns into a threesome. Some choking and degradation. Scara uses his Electro Delusion. Childe's parts are a little longer than Scara's, I wanted to get a feel for writing him since it's my first time doing so. Please, enjoy.

Childe x reader x Scaramouche

Your breathing was heavy, your e/c eyes darting between Scaramouche and Childe. You'd proudly proclaimed you could stand even with them in a sparring match. And boy did you ever prove it.

You wielded your Cryo vision masterfully, coming at both of them with your sword, chilling the air around you, coming at them like you had an intent to kill. His arms actually aches from blocking of your kicks.

It thrilled and excited Childe, the hairs on his arms standing up. He fired off a volley of Hydro arrows at you. You slashed the air, freezing them. You were breathtaking, a sight to behold. If you weren't careful, you were going to stir his Foul Legacy to life.

Oh yes, Childe was starting to feel horny, incredibly horny. He could tell your stamina was starting to waver, and that's when he pounced. You made the mistake of blinking too long.

"Nice moves, girlie." Childe sped towards you, bumping his elbow into the middle of your chest. Your eyes widened, stunned.

Meanwhile, Scaramouche had been running interference for Childe further away with his Delusion. His indigo eyes were shamelessly trained on your body, especially the way your breasts bounced when you dodged his Catalyst attacks, Electro crackling when it made contact with your ice.

You gasped, feeling his Electro prickle against back of your neck. "Too bad you didn't tie your hair back," he was just as fast as Childe, his voice suddenly right next your ear behind you. Scaramouche swiftly wrapped your long h/c hair around his hand, jerking you backwards onto your back as he kicked your feet out from under you. He was a little less gentle than Childe.

Your breath rushed out of your lungs, your sword clattering to the ground before it dematerialized. Scaramouche made sure your head didn't hit the ground when you landed. It was just a sparring match after all.

Childe crawled on top you. He rested a knee between your legs, rubbing it against your panties, feeling glad you'd woren skirt, giving him easy access. He rubbed until you were soaking the fabric of his pants, enjoying the way you writhed and moaned. "Judging from the way your body is reacting, I'd say you want to fuck now instead of fight."

Scaramouche wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing slightly. Your moans were making him hard. You'd been so headstrong during your sparring match, you needed to be dominated, manhandled into submission. Growling, he released his cock from his shorts.

"I..yield," you were struggling to breath, your orgasm beginning to build from the oxygen deprivation. "Fuck me, pl..ease," was all you could manage to choke out.

Childe watched as Scaramouche jacked himself off leaking precum to dribble onto your lips. He grinned, feral when your tongue swept out to lick it off your lips. He wasted no time bunching your skirt up around your hips, peeling your panties off, your pussy slick and ready for him.

Scaramouche tore your shirt, fondling you while Childe buried his cock to the hilt inside you, groaning when he bottomed out. "Hold her wrists above her head," he batted Scaramouche's hand away from your throat, letting you drag precious air into your lungs.

"Don't order me around," Scaramouche snapped, but doing as Childe asked. It was getting harder and harder to keep his composure, his dick throbbing in his hands. "Hurry up, Childe, you stupid loser." He didn't want to cum in his hand.

Your breasts bounced as Childe pounded into you. You clung to him, nails clawing at his back, each thrust splitting your walls open, making wet, lewd noises. Pleasured moans and screams tore from your throat, spurring Childe on. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," He moaned huskily. Leaning down, he bit your lips, kissing you. They felt so erotic, your tongue wet and warm, curling around his.

Scaramouche crouched down and rubbed your clit, bring you to orgasm faster, he was done being patient. You screamed Childe's name, urging him to empty himself inside you, your walls clenching around his cock, feeling dizzy from your release.

His body trembled, orgasm hitting him like a freight train. "I'll fill you good, girlie, don't you worry," he panted in your ear, his cum painting the inside of your cunt.

The moment Childe pulled out of you, Scaramouche flipped you over onto your stomach, hastily thrusting inside of you, pulling your hips up to grip them for leverage. "How you are still so tight, slut? Childe practically fucked your brains out," he panted, grunting as he fucked you. It felt like heaven to finally have his cock scrapping against your walls. Your clit throbbed, twitching from overstimulation.

You were so blissfully fucked out, your throat sore, voice hoarse. You cried out Scaramouche's name, your arms no longer being able to yourself up by the time Scaramouche cummed inside of you.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #childe #childe smut #childe x you #childe x y/n #childe x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader

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its-actually-minicika · 1 year

Note

so, feel free totally ignore this if it makes you feel uncomfortable, but I can't stop thinking about a jace x reader fic where reader is sort of dealing with the aftermath of the battle of the gullet.

her and jacerys were involved romantically and when he dies, reader goes berserk and out for blood with the greens: she gets captured eventually and is left to rot in a cell in harrenhall or something, where she talks smack to aemond and reminisces about her time spent with jace...

idk maybe she breaks out and aemond falls in love with her in a reverse-stockholmly way?? it's more like he becomes obsessed and starts taunting her with Vhagar like he did with luke.

or maybe she ends up dying in the cell from exhaustion and all her untreated wounds (because there's no way canon book aemond would ever help the lover of an enemy lmao) and meets jace again in their weird version of westerosi heaven

idk i just need them both so bad lol

The Harshest Winters (!18+!)

Pairing(s): Jacaerys x Reader, somewhat implied Aemond x Reader ??? it's just really fucked up, man;

Warnings: major character death, strong language, mentions of SA, some spoilers for Fire&Blood, book canon Aemond, blood and gore, psychological horror, manipulation, manhandling, mentions and descriptions of sex;

Author's Note: whiew, this was definitely something! Thank you so much for the request, Nonny - I loved diving into this one :") I hope that this is to your liking!!

Part 2 is out now!

She was sentenced to forever remember him by name only - Jacaerys' face would dim with time across her memory, leaving only a distant face in the back of her mind.

As she rots in the coldest pits of Harrenhal, (Y/N) remembers him, day after day and night after night.

"Promise me you'll come back alive." The girl hushed into the quiet war room. Her eyes scanned over the firelit table, traveling to Jace's sprawled out hands and broad form.

His eyes lit up. Brilliant brown hues, filled with so much love for her. His calloused fingers, still trailing over the waters of the Steptstones, that versed well into the Gullet.

"I promise." Jacaerys spoke to her, tone serious and somewhat strained. "My love..." He mused at the notice of her furrowed brows, and took three wide steps towards her.

As his hands reached for her, she leaned into his warm touch, so palpable and real.

The two hugged for what felt like an eternity. The Prince of Dragonstone kissed the crown of her head tenderly, his heart beating in a calming tune, that could have once lulled the woman into the deepest of sleeps.

"You've never lied to me before." She sniffed into his wide chest, pressing herself against him with renowed ferocity. "Do not let this be the first time."

Jace only smiled and cupped her jaw soothingly.

The nights without him were the toughest.

(Y/N) was irritated, on the verge of frenezy - the ghosts of her past played cruel jokes on her health of mind, making her see red before her - his face, whenever she closed her eyes to sleep.

In the three weeks that she spent in the prison cell, after having been captured and enslaved by Aemond, not once had she seen his face apart from their first fated meeting.

How stupid she was, drawing her sword to him, engaging him in a field of falling men.

How could she not see his flock of Green Loyalists, who suddenly came behind her back?

The heavy wound in her lower abdomen and the numbness of her left foot were all her fault. The puss that was dripping from her daft fingers, as well.

At least she had beat the shivers, she told herself insistently. But how long will it be, until she meets the Stranger due to her horrid wounds?

Left all alone, trapped well within those four walls of damp stone, the girl could do nothing but mumble and think to herself:

Aemond Targaryen had fought bravely, she had to at least give him that. Although she too would have had balls of steel atop a dragon - and one not even close to Vhagar's size.

He had granted her the courtesy of letting her die in the pains of cold and hunger - flesh eaten away by the ghastly infection, rotting to a point that had one's stomach churn and wail.

A small tear rolled from her shut eyes, and her jaw clenched tight - no one would come to rescue her, and it was clear as day that even the soldiers who came to guard her cell at night stopped bothering to show up. Perhaps the reek of death proved to be too much for them.

Perhaps they preferred to sit outside, and bask themselves in the fine light and smell of putrid ash.

Perhaps.

Slowly, yet surely, (Y/N) tried to sit up straight, but a blinding pain sent her right on her exposed back again. She hissed from the pressure that her inexperienced bandage applied on her closing wound, but relentlessly tired to get up again and again.

Eventually, she stilled as she got up on her right foot, and leaned into the wall for help in supporting her raw weight.

"Fucking shit, fucking assholes, fucking Greens, nasty cock-suckers, fucking die...!" She sobbed into the breached wall, gripping the stone edges with all her might and heaving out one pained breath after the other.

"I didn't know I was keeping a whore alive, in the stead of a respected Lady." A croaky, albeit mellow voice rang out.

(Y/N) could feel her knee wobble in fear.

She bit her tongue in an attempt to stop her snarl, and steadied herself with her hands still clinging to the wall.

"Kinslayer." She spoke in a brittle voice, and cursed herself for the undeniable softness that was laced in her tone - she was far too weakened to talk to him. And much less to fight once more.

Aemond's nostrils flared, in a weird concucsion of both anger and grief. His jaw tightened as his hand curled into a fist.

"Traitor." He grates out in retaliation, but lets a bemused expression to curl up his lips. His face narrows, and a flicker, a spark of fury dances in his remaining eye.

"You grace me with your presence, Prince Aemond. You really shouldn't have." (Y/N)'s eyes trail to the sword that rests upon his hip, and she can feel her blood turn cold once his feet carry him so awfully close to her defenseless form.

Her chest rises and falls in pent up frustration. Even if she tried to, she couldn't kill him now. But maybe she could gouge out his good eye.

Before her thoughts can come to a close, Aemond cruelly smirks to himself, and unsheats his sword to lower it to (Y/N)'s face. "It's a pity. You've never been a beauty, but now you're rendered to almost completely useless." He tuts lightly, turning her face with each languid movement of his sharp blade.

"I had in mind to let my men fuck you." He remarks dryly, but lets out a disappointed sigh. "But I don't think any of them would get it up to your whorish face."

His words startle the woman, and her eyes widen in disgust, as her throat tightens in and over itself.

"No... A look so wild and a grisly body such as this are better suited for dogs than men."

(Y/N) is shaking with fear and rage alike. She takes in a deep breath, and closes her eyes to listen.

He's bluffing. This is a test. This is a challenge. And either way, he has a sword. He could cut you up in a thousand little red ribbons of flesh if you uttered the wrong word.

The girl repeats the same mantra in her head, and swallows thickly. Soon, very soon he will get bored of taunting her.

But why? Why, why come now? Why pay her a visit after weeks of captivity?

He wants you to do something for him, in exchange for fresh air and a clean set of clothes, a small voice inside her head whispers to her.

Aemond hums wistfully and brings a hand to play with her house's crest, that rests atop her caved chest in a twisted necklace.

"You are Elmo Tully's only daughter." He asserts calmly, and reaches to twirl around her darkened strands of hair. "The Lord of Riverrun pledged his banners to that withered cunt because of you."

His eyebrows raised in mock surprise, and his sword came to a halt below her jaw. Attentively, he grazed her skin with the hilt of it, paying attention not to break in a single cut.

"But now... there's no reason for them to fight on her side, is it? You're ours to spare or kill, and your bastard lover boy is rotting in the sea."

His words sparked a fire inside the girl's soul. Without thinking, she took a step forward, and gripped her hand atop his over the hilt of the sword. In just a second, her free hand had found a way to his pale face.

The aftermath of the loud slap echoed throughout the dark room, and Aemond grabbed the lady by the hair, bringing her to her knees with a strong, downward pull.

"I will put a muzzle on you if you don't behave, tie you down and feed you to Vhagar, but not before I berate you in front of everyone still alive from the Twins to Harrenhal."

A small whimper escapes her lips, and the One Eyed prince gives her one last harsh tug, before freeing her dirty locks.

"Look at the mess you've made." He chastises with a click of his tongue, bringing his grimy hand to her face again. "You dirty fucking whore, I should make you lick me clean."

His furious stare melts into an amused one, and Aemond the Kinslayer laughs.

"I bet you would love that, wouldn't you?" He cooed while glancing down at her, forcing a finger into her resisting mouth. "You've been Jacaerys' slut for so long, haven't you? Wouldn't you like to be fucked by a real man, too?"

Aggravated by his running mouth and exherted by all her remaining patience, (Y/N) bit down on his fingers, hard, drawing a metallic taste in her mouth and a guttural groan from Aemond.

"I thank you for your gentle offer. But I heard you're already busy enough with that - fucking a bastard of your own in the darkness of these cursed halls."

The Targaryen prince clasped her by the arms tightly, pulling the girl up on her feet and snarling in her face.

"For that, I will give you your brothers' heads."

"Mayhaps they will give me yours."

Aemond's hands would leave her bruised. Of that much, she was certain.

Another permanent reminder of his abuse on her, she mused, letting out a pained sigh.

She grazed the bottom of her lower lip, immersed in deep thought.

Aemond wouldn't kill her. At least, not until the last of her purpose ran up. He might have had Harrenhal secured, but that meant little to his usurper brother and the capital, especially when the Reach provided them with no other allies.

Aegon's cause needed her. They desperately needed her alive, to strike up a deal with her sickly grandfather, and convert both houses Frey and Tully to their side.

Family.

Duty.

Honour.

Her grandfather would do anything to ensure her safety - that much was, again, for certain.

And if Aemond wanted to win this thing, he wouldn't touch a single hair on her delicate head - he couldn't afford to set off the Riverlords.

Having said that, (Y/N) wasn't surprised when the maesters came flooding in, or when her clothes were changed and her bed replaced.

What did surprise her were Aemond's visits - after their initial clash, he came by her cell more and more often.

Sometimes he would speak to her. Ask her about the gravity of her wounds, if she found the lack of light scary. If any soldier made to guard her had talked to her or made her uncomfortable.

Those were what (Y/N) grew to call his "good days".

Most of the time, Aemond would come to her well into the dead of night, scaring her and making her lose sleep for days at a time.

He would apologize with a small quirk of his head, and simply stare at her. Stare for what felt like hours, until he would hum, satisfied, and make his leave.

It was during one of those latter visits that (Y/N) finally spoke:

"Has my grandfather turned his banners? Did he send any lease for me?"

Her question, although innocent enough, angered Aemond. He rose to his feet, eyes wide in ire, and he punched the wall of the prison cell - hard.

"From this day onward, you'll sleep in a chamber more fit for a Lady." He hoarsely muttered over his shoulder, as he made his way up the twisted set of stairs. "Soldiers will escort you tonight. Tomorrow, a maid will bathe you."

Although hid from her field of vision, the Tully girl heard how his footsteps came to a halt. The One Eyed Prince clasped his fists painfully, and gritted lowly:

"If you try to escape, you'll meet your end by the way of my blade, My Lady."

The night Lady Tully stepped outside of her prison cell was supposed to be one of the happiest of her entire life.

At the very least, the girl found the night sky to be of a comforting beauty - and the lack of sunrays would be good for her eyes, that got so used to the engulfing darkness of the Dungeons.

Still, she couldn't wait to see the sun.

... Her contentment was short lived - as soon as the smell of ash and blood had hit her nose, the girl almost collapsed.

No matter where she looked, she saw only the bites of fire. Where it spread - over the fertile lands she loved so well -, it left dust and cinder in it's wake.

Her home was ruined.

The fields she used to play in... gone.

The grief and anger replaced the sadness and despair. (Y/N) felt herself shake to the core, and, as she was dragged to the highest tower in the Harrenhal Keep, she swore to kill Aemond for what he'd done.

Yet, a much merrier resolve was going on back and forth in Aemond's chamber, who, after his interaction with (Y/N), was left very wanting and more than frustrated.

Alys was writhing beneath him, mewling in pleasure at his rough touch and merciless pace. Her dark hair was sprawled all over the goose feather pillows, covering her face and lustful stare.

"Mmhh, faster... faster!" She urged him with a breathless moan, moving her hips in unison with his, meeting his thrusts half-way.

Aemond groaned, holding her firmly by the nape of her neck, and closing his lilac eye tightly. His loins were begging for release - a release that was coming very hard to him.

Thoughts that disassociated him from what was happening at present surged through his mind: what he would have to do tomorrow, where he would have to take Vhagar.

Did (Y/N) reach her room yet?

The latter of them sent a pleasant shiver down his spine - with renewed vigour, Aemond pounded into the woman under him. He had found the lead towards his release, and he was not about to let it go.

Images of (y/h/c) replace the dark whisks of hair on Alys' head - her soft skin, her beautiful (y/e/c).

(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N)...

His member twitches urgently inside of Alys, and Aemond continues to defile the Tully girl in his mind, imagining how her face would twist in pleasure as he slowly entered her.

He would be gentle. So, so gentle - he would make her into a babbling mess, so numb from bliss, that her legs would shake around him. He could be selfless with her, find his high only after he was satisfied with the orgasms he pulled from her.

Aemond moaned loudly once he felt Alys tighten around him, and soon spilled out his seed, panting wildly.

Finally, he opened up his eye, and felt the disgust and dissatisfaction that came after his mind-blowing release.

How could he, the Prince Protector of the Realm, think of his nephiew's lover during sex? That ugly, headstrong and frogish looking girl - making the Crown Prince lose his mind in want and lust.

Shit.

He had to see her.

He had to touch her.

He had to have her.

He craved to feel her - even if she were to slap him as she did months ago; he would take anything she gave him. And he would enjoy it tremendously.

Aemond sighed, still planted deep above Alys - he peeled himself from her lean arms, and rolled his shirt back and over his head. Next were his trousers, shoes and leather tunic.

"Where are you going, my love...?" Alys whispered, pressing her naked body on his working back.

Aemond hums expectantly, and turns his body to trap the woman in between the cold wall and his budging arms. He brings his hand out to caress her skin, toying with one of her breasts, until he pushes her roughly against the wall and pulls her by the hair.

"I told you not to call me that" He muses coldly, letting go of the fistful he grabbed mere seconds ago. "We talked about our arrangement, Alys." He tuts lightly, grazing her jaw with his long index finger.

Aemond sighs and lets go of the caged woman, as he straightens his back and begins walking towards the door.

"I want you on the bed, with your legs spread waiting for me. I won't be too long."

Curse Aemond and his meticulosity, the young lady chastised inside her head. The tower in which she was supposed to spend the rest of the war - or however long Aemond wished her to, really - was at the highest level possible. There was no way for her to jump out the window and survive the fall.

But, should there be a need for it... death by falling wasn't the worst of fates. If you managed to break your neck, that is.

A shuddering thought, (Y/N) scorned herself, and not one she could afford at the moment.

Jacaerys was dead - and part of her would be lost with him forever. Above all else, she wanted to feel his soft kiss again, his strong arms protecting her, his gentle caress that never failed to give her butterflies.

One day, she would find him again. One day, they'll reunite, and be back together - as the Gods intended to.

But that day was still far away.

She prayed her grandfather hadn't turned his banners against Rhaenyra's cause. She hoped that her family was safe, and that Riverrun didn't suffer the same fate the fields near Harrenhall had.

Jacaerys was dead. But above all else, she had to stay alive. Fulfil his wish, take care of both their families, until she could allow herself to rest.

Her shaky hand reached for her eyes. She had been crying.

The dirt on her cheeks must have washed away, leaving streaks of her paling skin to poke behind.

She would avenge him. She would avenge them all. Even if that was the last thing she ever did.

The brisk opening of her chamber door made the girl jump in place and turn rapidly on her heel.

Behind the oak aperture, a head of shoulder-lenght silver hair could be seen, followed by a pair of untrusting violet eyes.

"Didn't your mother teach you never to enter a lady's room without knocking first?"

The reprimantion left her lips before (Y/N) could catch herself.

She had to remember that no matter how much Aemond needed her, he was still quick to anger - a true prince of the Blood of the Dragon. Brazen, relentless, cruel.

She was a first daughter, yes. But a third child, coming after two strong boys, that hence secured the Tully line from before she was even born.

He was a man. She was a weakened woman. They were near a window at a plenty ample height, and even she had heard what happened to Queen Helaena.

His footsteps approached her slowly, like a predator would it's prey. It took everything inside the girl to stay put in place, fighting his empty stare with her own.

"It's cold outside." Is all Aemond said, before he strutted towards the open window and closed it back up again.

A myrriad of questions were on her mind. But 'Why are you here?' was replaying the most.

Her back was turned on Aemond. (Y/N) was frozen in place and, although she knew how dangerous it was not to look at him, she feared that a singular look of the man who played a part in killing the love of her life would be far too much.

Seconds turned to minutes. And minutes felt like they were turning to hours.

Before long, Aemond let out a low hum and grabbed a piece of her modest gown with two of his fingers.

"I'll have a nightgown be made for you tomorrow." The Targaryen prince concluded, gingerly letting go of her sleeve.

Without another word, he turned his body stiffly, and walked towards the doors that separated her from the outside world. As they closed and clicked with the turning of a key, the girl let out a relieved sigh, and quickly glanced upon the floor.

"Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit, you Gods' damned fucking asshole." She hissed in utter resentment, snarling at the place the one eyed prince once stood.

At least the promise of the morrow could bring forth a better day.

If she ever wanted freedom, she had to make Aemond trust her. But that was easier said than done. And it would take time.

So far, he had taken her outside twice - both times, during nighttime. To not be seen by anyone, and to be able to walk with the Prince without being perturbed or interrupted by keen eyes and weary mouths.

They walked in silence: neither knowledgeable enough in the other to know what to converse about.

And as they made their third and final round of the garden, the girl took in a deep breath, and whisked her skirts gently to one side.

Aemond, like all the other nights before that, escorted her himself back to her secluded chambers, but stopped abruptly at her door.

"Where is your bretheren?" Aemond demanded to the knight assigned to watch over (Y/N) coldly.

His body stiffened momentarily, until a muffled voice could be heard past his helmet. "He went outside to take a piss." Sensing Aemond's stillness at his words, he added hurriedly, "Your Grace."

Unconvinced, yet unwilling to press the matter further, Aemond hummed, and opened the door, to allow the woman to step inside.

Like all the other nights before that, he stepped inside as well, to stare at her and later leave himself to rest in his own right.

(Y/N)'s hands were tightened in fists, and the woman strutted to her bed to play with the silk bedding.

"Thank you for bringing me here. You're... so very kind." She forced herself to say the words that left such a bitter taste in her parted mouth.

For a while, Aemond seemed stunned. He felt his jaw clench in anticipation for her next words. His eyes trailed over her, mesmerised by her tempting form, so meek and small and perfect.

Had she always been so beautiful?

"Hmm." He purrs from deep inside his throat, unable to form any other sentence. His lilac orb being glossed over with something akin to fear and lust - how could such a lowly girl spark such a consuming feeling within him?

The tightness inside his trousers becomes unbearable, and Aemond can feel his palms gripping over his thighs.

"Well..." (Y/N) finally turns to face him, biting her inner cheek. "G... Good night, Prince Aemond."

He takes in a sudden breath, and has to restrain everything inside him not to walk towards her and take her over the mattress.

But she was still a Lady. And he had to be patient. There will be more than enough time for that, he told himself pleasingly.

Still, his cock twitched into the confining space, and the girl had to stop herself from gagging at the sight.

Men were really just mindless beasts, after all. Yet she had to at least be thankful - she now knew for certain she wasn't indifferent to him. There were worse things to be working with than lust.

Lust was better than ire. Lust was better than... nothing.

"Good night, Lady (Y/N)." Aemond's groggy voice echoed through the empty room.

Seemingly satisfied with what he told her, the Targaryen Prince shot her body one last hungry gaze, before leaving to hold her under lock and key.

A minute, maybe two pass, until the girl's body can relax into the soft bed. Her eyes go over the ceiling, and she starts recounting her steps.

A sudden click of armour alerts her of what is going on outside - she shifts and turns, eyes fully on the door.

Had Aemond come to her again?

Dread seeped into her veins. Had he come to rape her? Use her? Or perhaps he grew tired of playing host, and was ready to kill her.

Not sparing another second, she swiftly jumped back on her feet, and reached for a candle holder, clasping it tightly within her hand.

Her breathing accelerated, until... the shining helmet of the knight outside greeted her tentatively, instead of the terrifying white hair she'd grown accustomed to.

"My Lady!" He breathed out, relieved, and hurriedly showed her his face.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and hot drops of tears suddenly threatened to escape them.

"Ser... Ser Cain? Is that really you?"

"Aye, my Lady, in the flesh." He remarked happily, closing the door, before (Y/N) surprised him by running towards her sworn protector, with an embrace that could shatter stone.

"I thought you dead after the battle at Tumbletown...!" She hushed into his chest, swaying him from side to side.

"It should take them more than usurping bastards to kill me!" Cain Waters assured her. His body pulled away from hers, and he spoke back in a more serious tone. "I'm here on order of your father. I'll take you to a safe place. But we must leave now."

"How...?" The girl questioned hopelessly, "The Kinslayer is ruthless, and he keeps a close watch on every corner of the keep at all times."

"Not all the time." Cain offered her a reassuring squeeze, smirking slightly. "I have reason to believe he's occupied in his chambers right now."

His attitude turns somber, and he reveals a hood tucked in his breastplate. "Wear this, my Lady. I'll keep guard outside until you're ready - but be quick about it. We'll have plenty of time to talk after we're out of this horrid place."

(Y/N) didn't need to be told that twice - she made great haste dressing up, and, before she could realise it, she was running down the stairs with her heart hammering out of her chest.

She felt as though she was in a trance. Ser Cain knew the castle like the back of his hand - no doubt, her father had been planning her escape for a very long time -, and, by the will of the Gods, the two traveled unspotted to the burnt forest behind the Gates of Harrenhall.

"Our horses are tied here." Cain huffed at the heaviness of his armour. "My Lady, give me your hand."

He mounted the woman on a tiny black horse, and secured her belts in place. He then turned to his own mare, and ensured to tie their bridles together. Before long, both horses broke into a dizzying gallop.

Thus (Y/N) Tully and Cain Waters managed to get lost into the night, right from under Aemond's nose.

The rays of sunlight shone over Aemond's bare form, still entangled with the one of Alys Rivers.

His limbs felt heavy - though none of match to the uneasiness he felt in his heart.

Wordlessly, he peeled himself off the warm body that laid next to him, and dressed up to pay his cherished captive a morning visit.

His dull footsteps bounced in the echo of the war keep, as Aemond's marching came to an abrupt end.

Nothing looked out of the ordinary.

Nothing, save to say for the unguarded door to the girl's chamber.

His blood ran cold, and his hand jerked open the entry to her resting place, only to find it... empty.

There is a scream from deep within that forces it's way from out of his chest. An anger so blinding, that it threatened to burn and extinguish any and all who would dare come his way.

Anger isn't a good look an anyone. But on Aemond One Eye, it looked downright terrifying.

A punch is thrown on the nearest wall to his trembling form. Then another. And another. And another.

Vhagar's mighty roar all but breaks the sky in two - and those who lived to tell the tale swore it echoed throughout all the Seven Kingdoms.

An exaggeration, no doubt, though not the most far fetched one in their bloody story.

The tearing skin of his knuckles lets a numbing feeling wash over Aemond. With his eyes upon the rattled fields, he lets out a low chuckle.

"I'll find her. I'll find her if I have to burn down all of the Riverlands."

They say that everytime a Targaryen is born, the Gods flip a coin.

#jacaerys strong #jacaerys valaryon #jacaerys x reader #yandere aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond imagine #dark aemond #this one is really fucked up lolz #the harshest winters

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