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humanpurposes · 2 months

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You Want This, You Need This

The only daughter of Rhaneyra Targaryen is firmly devoted to her mother's cause, and yet she finds her way through the passages of the Holdfast, to the bedchamber of a Prince she should hate // Main Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x nameless female character (daughter of Rhaenyra)

Warnings: 18+, smut, enemies with benefits, hate sex, degrading, angst, Targcest (uncle and niece)

Words: 3.7k

A/n: Me making a poll then doing whatever I want 🫶

There’s no use in waiting for sleep to come to her, she’s too restless for sleep.

Her bedroom is full of alcoves and adjacent chambers, good for hiding and keeping the room cool during the summers. In one of the alcoves is a mural. If she presses a particular space on the wall with much force, she can push it to reveal an entrance into the hidden passageways of Maegor’s Holdfast.

Light is lost beyond the threshold. A gentle but piercing breeze washes over her, through the thin and billowing fabric of her night shift. There’s always this lingering excitement when she opens the doorway. She equates it to the thrill of flying, cutting through the wind on dragonback. Only she’s not in the sky, she’s staring into darkness, daring herself to take a single step.

As children she and her brothers had found many of these hidden doors throughout the castle, the perfect sort of places to hide in when they were in trouble, the perfect place to eavesdrop and move through the keep undetected. When their mother found out she had discouraged them from venturing too far, lest they end up like the piles of bones left by rats and other rodents that had never found their way out.

The paths within the walls are treacherous, but she knows some of the routes by heart. She knows how to head down to the kitchens, she even knows a way which leads past the dungeons, to a chamber which houses the skull of Blaerion, the Black Dread, out to a beach along the shore of the bay, out of reach by any other means.

There is one particular room she has in mind tonight.

She treads carefully, tracing her fingertips against the wall so that she does not lose her way. When she comes to a series of steps she takes even more caution. She counts twenty steps, then turns another corner and keeps walking until the stone underneath her fingers turns to wood. It is a door, one which appears as part of a panelled wall on the other side. She pushes it open, hoping he has left the latch undone, and he has.

The room’s warmth is a welcome sensation. She makes as little noise as possible as she enters and closes the door behind her.

He’s sitting by the fire, turned away from where she stands, head lowered slightly and his silver hair spilling down the back of his chair. She almost always finds him like this, practising one of his self righteous rituals. He reads until the hearth and the candles have burned out because it enforces his own belief that he is a more dedicated son than Aegon, more intelligent and more worthy than the Velaryons– than her and her ilk.

His shoulders stiffen as the soles of her slippers tap delicately against the floor, moving towards his bed. She imagines him frowning, or perhaps smiling to himself as he closes the book in his lap.

She perches at the edge of the mattress, pushing her shoes off and letting them fall to the floor. “That was quite the display in the training yard this morning,” she says in a clear voice.

Everything he does is agonisingly slow. He grips the arms of his chair as he rises, slots the book back onto a shelf, and finally turns to face her. He is dressed in a simple black shirt and the breeches he usually sleeps in. His hair is half tied, his leather patch secured around his head, over the space where his left eye should be, sliced out by her own brother’s hand.

The low light of the hearth casts shadows in the sharp edges of his face, the lines around his mouth, the curve of his lips, proud but restrained. His remaining eye is trained on her, glaring at her like a hunter approaches prey.

“You were there to watch your brother, I thought,” he says in that softly threatening voice of his. He comes close enough to loom over her, though just far enough that their legs do not touch. “Or did you find your eye wandering?”

Jace’s first mistake had been to go down to the yard early. Aemond was always there in the mornings after flying Vhagar, to train with Ser Criston Cole until noon. His next mistake had been to succumb to Aemond’s goading. Their uncle is never one to use violence at first, not like Aegon who would brawl with a gull if he thought it offensive enough. Aemond likes to use his words to tease and probe, to lure an opponent to action, and Jace almost always falls for it. The moment her brother had challenged Aemond to a sparring match she knew what the outcome would be. Jace was a promising fighter, but he simply could not match Aemond’s height, strength, speed or skill.

Her heart sank for her brother, but it couldn’t force her attention away from Aemond. He moved like a dancer, all fluidity and control, like he already had the entire performance planned out in his head. He toyed with Jace, kept his defence up, only to knock his sword from his hands and place his own blade at his throat in a sudden flash of silver and steel.

She’d had to bite the inside of her lip to stop herself from smirking.

“You humiliated him, before spectators,” she says.

Aemond frowns in mock sympathy, taking her chin between his finger and his thumb to tilt her gaze up. “I would do it a hundred times over, for my own pleasure if not for anything else.”

She tilts her head. “And what of my pleasure?”

He hums cryptically. The corners of his mouth flicker upwards. “Your pleasure is only my concern within the confines of this room.”

He’s looking at her like that again, like he wants to devour her.

He traces his fingers down her throat, her collar, the neckline of her shift. His touch is sparse but familiar, exploring the curves of her body through the fabric, patterns she’s felt before, spaces he already knows and seems to have mapped in his head.

He leans in closer, his other hand pressing into the bed, invading her space, infiltrating her senses with the scent of smoke and lavender. She could drown in it, the scent of him.

She shudders as he runs his nose over her neck, following the heat of his breath with a lingering kiss against the sensitive spot of her skin. “What is it you want from me tonight?”

She has an idea in her mind, one she’s been toying with since she had seen the look of pride in his face in the yard.

“Lie down, on your back.”

He stands straight. Eye still fixed on her, he does as she says, making himself comfortable against the pillows.

She draws out every movement, just as he likes to do to her. She straddles him, settling her hips against the growing hardness in his breeches. She rests her hands against his chest, runs her fingers over his skin and the patch of silver hair revealed when she pulls on his shirt.

His hands are on her immediately, running up her thighs, gripping at her waist, bringing up the hem of her shift and tutting as though it has caused him some personal insult in hiding her body from him. He pulls it over her head and surges up to kiss her, capturing her lips with the desperation of a man starved. His kisses are always like this, slow and consuming, pulling her in closer and closer like he expects her to try to escape, like the only air he wants exists in her lungs.

It’s fast and overwhelming, and at first she’s content to just let it happen, to let herself be carried away in the currents of his wants and not her own, but once she’s a little more settled, she pushes him back against the bed.

He stares up at her, blood rushing to his cheeks, lips parted and panting. For all the times she’s seen his stoic exterior at court, she thinks he looks best like this.

“I thought you were concerning yourself with my pleasure?” she says, not bothering to contain her smile.

“I thought you liked it when I take what I want,” he retorts.

“I want you to do as you’re told.”

He huffs a laugh, but his gaze softens and his tongue wets his lips, his eye roaming appreciatively over her bare body, until he stops at her small clothes. All it takes is a few gentle rocks of her hips before his jaw tightens and his fingers dig deeper into the flesh of her waist. She swears she feels his hips twitch beneath her, but he makes no move to take what he wants.

She leans back on her haunches as she drags his breeches below his hips. By the sight of him, hard and reddened at the tip, she knows he at least finds something about this arrangement appealing.

She discards the rest of their clothing, his shirt, her small clothes, the leather eyepatch on his head. She pauses when she reaches for it, waiting for him to protest, but he doesn’t. He gives her a small nod and she slides it up to reveal the true extent of his scar, the twisted red flesh around the sapphire wedged in his socket.

She has seen it countless times before. She needs the reminder of who he is, how much he must hate her.

Now that they are both bare she resumes her position, pleasure like a flame licking up her spine as she traces circles over her centre. Aemond grinds himself against her, breathing with a strain in the back of his throat. The sound only makes the wanting feeling in her gut tighten. She can feel herself clenching over nothing, her body begging for more friction and the release it promises.

She feels she is wet enough to take him now, and her stomach drops in anticipation.

When he whispers her name, she knows she has him exactly where she wants him.

She closes her hand around his cock, giving it a few half-hearted strokes and lining it up to her entrance, only to hesitate. “I hear your mother is intending to invite Borros Baratheon to court,” she says.

Aemond catches his lip between his teeth, staring at the space where their bodies almost meet if she would only lower her hips.

“Might he bring one of his comely daughters? He has four, doesn’t he?”

Aemond huffs and meets her eye. His hands are still on her waist, his thumbs tracing circles over her belly. “Where did you hear this?”

She tries to pretend such a simple touch from him does not excite her or tempt her to relent.

Daemon has spies in the Queen’s household, not that she knows the specifics. Her mother had discussed the matter with her, expressing concern for the Hightowers’ intentions. It has been decades since a Lord of Storm’s End has stepped foot in the Red Keep, and Daemon believes their rivals are trying to close ranks, amass allies outside of the capital. Perhaps such a deal may be sealed with a marriage pact.

“What,” she breathes, trying to smile, “that his daughters are comely? I can only assume, for I’ve never met them you see–”

In the blink of an eye she’s beneath him.

Aemond brings a single finger to her lips. “I thought we had agreed not to discuss political matters in private,” he says.

“I did not realise the matter was political–”

He cuts her off when he snakes his hand down her body and pushes his thumb against her pearl. She hisses, her hips bucking to meet his touch.

“Are you trying to bait me, niece? Hmm? Is that what you came here for?”

She shakes her head as he circles over her. For such minimal effort on his part, it sparks something frustratingly bright in her, back arching, warmth settling between her legs and beneath her skin.

“Is that really what you want me to be thinking about? Wondering which one of the Baratheon girls is the prettiest?”

His fingertips tease over her entrance, but he doesn’t push them inside, instead they’re replaced by the head of his cock. She presses her lips together, determined not to make any kind of noise he could take for weakness, for wanting, but she feels it all the same.

“Presently, I’m only thinking about what I can see, and what I see is a spoiled little Princess, laid out beneath me. Poor thing, she’s trying to look smug, but I’m not sure I’m convinced, not when I’m about to fuck her tight, little cunt.”

Her pleading is mindless, falling from her lips as effortlessly as her breath. “Please… please… please…”

She wonders if it is her want or his own he eventually succumbs to. He pushes in slowly, delighted at the slight moan he elicits from her, sharing her air as she gasps at the pleasurable ache of being stretched out around him.

“I’ve heard rumours too, that Rhaenyra has been sending ravens to Highgarden,” he says as he starts to snap his hips against hers. “What business would your mother have with the Tyrells, I wonder?”

Rhaenyra has her own plans for a marriage pact, plans she’s known about for months. “What indeed?” she says, trying to smile as he ruts into her.

Aemond almost growls, burying his face into her neck. As his voice is harsher so are his thrusts. “My sister will sell you to a sickly little boy, is that it? Why would Rhaenyra want an alliance with the Reach?”

Because the King is little more than a breathing corpse and who knows how much life he has left in him. Because eventually, he will die, and they both know what will come next.

She’s always known her part in this, the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Her brothers may well fight in battles to defend their mother’s claim, but wars cannot be won without the necessary support. The Reach, The Riverlands, The Vale, The North, they must all be secured one way or another.

With his face hidden from hers she allows herself to admire the way his muscles move and flex under the smooth, pale skin of his arm. Since leaving childhood behind, he seems to have this idea of efficiency, with no tolerance for excess. His arms are slight, but defined where he trains with his sword each day, where he hauls himself onto Vhagar’s saddle and steers her around Blackwater Bay.

“It’s always been expected of me,” she says, tracing her hand over his skin, almost perfect, save for a few marks: a burn after an unfortunate encounter with Vermax when he was just a hatchling, a scar above his elbow where he fell from an apple tree, and crescent shaped indents from their last tryst. “I will do my duty.”

“Duty?” He stops, grabbing her by the neck so her breath hitches in her throat. He leans into her, pressing his forehead against hers, caging her between his body and the bed. She sees nothing but a single eye and a sapphire, nothing but contempt. “You’re the antithesis of it, crawling to your uncle’s bedchamber every night, begging to be fucked.”

Anger flares in her blood. She clamps her hand around his wrist and digs her nails into his skin, hoping it will mark him. “I have never begged for you,” she spits, teeth bared, lips grazing over his, “and I never shall…”

Her words fade on her tongue when he resumes a punishing pace, urging her closer to oblivion with every thrust.

“Oh there you go,” he coos, “that feels good, doesn’t it?” He’s on his knees now, one hand still on her throat, the other on her thigh, forcing her legs further apart, fingertips pressing painfully into her flesh.

She tries to pull away from his grip, pushing herself further into the bed amongst the pillows, but Aemond has always been stubborn and does not relent. She has nowhere to go, no other option but to take it.

“You’ll be sent off to some castle in a miserable corner of the world, live the dull life of a Lady. Your Lord husband will trade swords and shields for you like a brood mare and fuck his children into your belly each night.”

She feels her peak building within her, the weightlessness rising and rising, she can hardly take much more. “Do you believe I will think of you?” she says with a grin, “as he touches me, as he spills inside me…”

Aemond grunts, folding his chest over hers, brushing his lips over her cheek as he hisses, “wanton little whore. I am the one you seek out, and as long as you do, you are mine.”

It tears through her quickly, a spark that turns to flame, a piece of kindling caught alight, pleasure that reduces her simply to feeling, warmth and the absence of his weight on her body. She claws her nails into nothing, empty space where she expects to find his skin.

Aemond has pulled away from her, groaning as he comes, spilling over her stomach and thighs. She watches him, jaw slack, brows angled like he’s in agony.

She basks in the numbness her peak leaves behind as he drags his shirt over her skin to clean the mess he’s made with a touch that is soft and slow. His eye trails along her body to her face. She sees nothing in him, not amusement or satisfaction, not hatred or remorse, and yet he comes to lay beside her, turning her onto her side, settling against her back and putting his arms around her.

She allows it, too used to the feeling of lying in his bed, too used to the scent of sweat and smoke and lavender.

Aemond’s chambers are ruled by order, every book has its place on a shelf, he does not leave papers, clothes or used cups of wine lying around. The bedchamber lies on the south side of the castle, with a balcony overlooking the bay where two of them used to watch the ships leaving the harbour. She likes the intricate tapestries, scenes of Valryian mythology, and his fondness for the colour blue. Even if she cannot see most of it in the dark of night, the silence and stillness is comforting.

“Lord Corlys’ ship was attacked,” she mutters, placing her hand over his, where his palm against her stomach. “We cannot be sure if he even survived.”

“So I’ve heard,” Aemond says, “I’ve also heard Vaemond Velaryon intends to challenge the succession of Driftmark, should the unthinkable be true.

“And I assume the Queen and the Hand will support him in this endeavour.”

Aemond’s chest stills. “They will hear the petitions and pass their judgement,” he says, quietly but finally.

“Then the decision has already been made.”

Aemond’s breathing is deep, her hair fluttering against her cheek as he exhales. Her mother has a similar way of scolding her without uttering a single word, as if to say the answer should be obvious.

With a scoff she pushes his hand away and drags herself out of the bed. The cold air stings her skin and she makes short work of finding her night shift, discarded on the floor, and dressing herself.

“Lucerys has no claim to Driftmark,” Aemond says from the bed.

“And why is that?” she says shortly, grabbing her shoes from the foot of the bed.

He won’t say it, but the word is there, in the way he teases Jace, the way his family watch her and her brothers and stare at them across the throne room with nothing but disgust. It’s there in his indifference towards her beyond the walls of his bedchamber, avoiding eye contact, muttering under his breath, insults and backhanded compliments. But the last time he said it, it cost him his eye.

She turns to face him, a defiant glare through the darkness now that some of the candles have started to burn out.

“Coward,” she whispers.

He does claim to disagree.

With her shoes on, she moves towards the hidden door without sparing him another glance.

But she hears a ruffle of fabric, his feet against the floor as he follows her. His hand closes around her arm, hard enough it feels as though it might leave a bruise. He turns her into him, placing her back and his palm against the panelled wall.

“Stay,” he says.

“Surely you would not want to sully yourself, sharing your bed with a bastard.”

“But it’s different with you.”

“How? How is it different?”

He cups her face in his hands, begging her for something but never saying it. He leans in gradually, kissing her firmly. It’s easy to follow his lead, to let him slip his tongue between her lips, let him pull and tug at her delicate flesh, to feel him and lose herself to him. It makes her weightless all over again.

Once it was easy to love Aemond. They found friendship easily as children, even when they bickered and argued, because they could always forgive each other.

Some time ago she realised that love has always been destined to fade away, like summer changing into autumn, winter snows melting away with the spring. There is no place for it amongst the animosity between their families, causes they were born to, that neither of them will ever forsake.

Aemond pulls away but stays close to her, a hand on her waist, the other on her cheek. “I want you to stay.”

“And what then? What do you think could ever become of us?” The one-eyed Prince and the bastard Princess.

Suddenly she hates the stillness of this room, the weight of his silence in her chest.

Aemond’s hand slips from her cheek, his expression falling from pleading to indifference.

She leaves him standing there, bare chested and breathless, with no light to catch in the cut edges of his sapphire. She fades back into the shadows of the passageway, amongst the cold and the dark and the bones.

The rot has set in. The King will die, and both the Blacks and the Greens will seek to claim his throne. The empty space between her and Aemond can only ever grow.

Tags (comment to be added)

General taglist: @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya

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relocatedheads · 1 year

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would you write eddie munson x fem!reader smut?

where eddie’s chilling in his girls‘s room, bored because she’s taking a shower. he’s kinda snoopin’ around & finds a pastel pink book. he’s curious & starts reading it, realizing it’s her diary. he skips to the last page, dated just a few days ago. his eyes widen, not believing what he’s reading about his innocent girl.

sure they had sex. and not that vanilla, too. but he would’ve never thought his girl had thoughts like that. on this very page, his girl wrote her hidden fantasies. things she never even thought of telling eddie, too embarrassed. she’s talking about how she wants to call eddie „daddy“, or be choked, be humiliated to the brim, be filled by his cum till he’s dry, want him to be in complete control. she wants to be fully submitted to him.

before he can put the diary away she comes out of the bathroom, catching him. he confronts her & she tells him how embarrassed she is etc. they talk it out & he reversals that some of the stuff she likes he likes too. then they make out & they try out some of the stuff.

Oh my god you're an evil genius, time I put my 4 years of journaling to good use! - also ive been working on this all week and the 'h' key on my keyboard keeps getting stuck and its making typing no longer fun :/

Written Fantasies

Summary: ^^ the ask Pairing: Eddie x Reader Trigger Warnings: Smut / Embarrassment / hands on throats - no chocking Content Warnings: Diary Reading / blow jobs / impoliteness / shoe frontage / demands / deep throating / reader masturbation

MY EDDIE MASTERLIST BABY!!!!!!!

The space was as recognisable as the back of his hand, and as comforting as his denim vest: lightly coloured walls, cabinets around the room, shelves and counter tops filled trinkets and lifes memorabilia: photos of events, pretty candles, books, small trinkets of days out, wrist bands and broken watches that simply just meant too much.

Things changed every time he entered this space: photos changed frames, boxes gained new records, the cassette piles grew, and the books changed order.

Eddie clocked - while laying on your bed waiting for you to come back from your shower - that not only had the books changed but new ones were added. when he sat up to take a better look: there were 4 books, all identical sat up together leaning on a pile of published books.

The 4 were pink, all the same size, some slightly thicker, one especially thinner. All with individual dates written into their spines: 1983, 1984,1985, 1986. He weren't no idiot, his brain sorted that they were diaries.

He felt a twinge of pride for you to have the left out on display - almost like trophies, proud of your past. He knew a lot about you but you'd seemed to have never told him you wrote a diary. Eddie knew it was standard procedure you don't read people diary: just as you don't snoop in artists sketch books or dungeon masters binders. But who would he be kidding if he said he didn't wanna read it.

He thought a moment, concentrating and recognising the shower was still running. He didn't have to think too much, the boy was running on curiosity alone. Sat up on the edge of your bed, he leant over and pulled 1986 into his hands.

It started with him just flicking the pages: most of it empty; a few loose sheets tucked into the back; a pen clipped to the elastic closer. The filled side of the book was set out meticulously: a yearly planner already almost filled with exams, cheer practice, birthdays, appointments, dates with Eddie, every Tuesday marked with Hideout at 7, every odd Friday marked Hellfire!.

There was this warmness in his heart, knowing his life was just as important to you as it was for him. He believed every I love you, but know he understood every I love you.

He flicked through the book more: budget planners, goal pages, period trackers, and the body. Filled with your typical too-curly-to-read handwriting, every page filled line for line. Some sitting half empty signifying the end of an entry.

Eddie couldn't possibly understand what you had to write about for long that you wouldn't just tell him or your friends.

He found the dog eared page, the scruffily written date marking yesterday. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling a little giddy. He knew he shouldn't but he really couldn't stop himself.

As he read down the page: a recall of your date to the record store and diner, small notes of your gushing over Eddie's chivalry (he always thought holding doors open and little pet names were usual things), a detailed explanation of his outfit and how you loved it (he read that a few times, remember to wear his little thigh harness around you more often.). And as he continued to read, the writting felt less confident, as though there as a topic waited to be hinted at.

He skipped over to the next page and down it, finding a few words grabbing his eyes: touch myself, embarrassing, chocked, him, daddy.

His eyebrows rested in his hairline, eyes almost leaving his skull, the warmth on his checks wasn't imagined. He jumped back a few lines:

Jesus I feel 14 again. I dont know why he does this to me. I see him everyday, and yet im still pinning over him like he's some untouchable deity.

He reads down

We have sex so much but like every night I end up touching myself thinking about- its so embarrassing! I feel like ive been poisoned!! literally none of my friends are like this about their boyfriends!

yeah we all talk about sex but they all have usual sex and normal fantasies but like I feel like a deviant. if I ever told anyone what I really want they'd all look at me so weird

but if I think about sex with him about him all I can think of is his hands and his lips and his voice! and if Im actually honest with myself, all I want is him. I cant stop. ive got into this habit of thinking about him before I go to bed and like every night I touch myself to him.

literally seem like I cant just have him- and I so can but I want so much more!

like if I really thought about it: I'd love him to just use me, do whatever. He could fuck me, make me fuck him, cum in me, chock me, spit on me and I'd be so fucking happy!

Or like, my brain keeps thinking to what if we're fucking and someone hears or we're almost gonna get caught and it turns me on so much! I feel like a pervert.

Eddie felt himself hold his breath.. he was no prude, under his bed was riddled with lost porn mags, he know a lot about kinks and fetishes but something about hearing from you - sweet, quite, calm you- shit! He was getting all flustered.

And like also! keep calling him Daddy in my mind too - I dont know where thats come from but it feels so right! I just really want him to just have his way with me. I dont know how on earth I tell him this. this is so embarrassing.

Eddie was transfixed by your confessions: the sound of the water had slipped his ears. Let alone, he hadn't heard the floor creak and wind chance as you entered the room.

"Jesus babe! You scared me- can't make a guy jump like that!" He yelped, the towel hitting the bed making him jump back into real time.

You laughed at him at first... until your eyes danced around him... and what he had in his hand. You didnt need to ask to know. And almost instantly you felt your body tense, mind go blank and cheek redden. Hands sat in on each other, lips rolled in, eye popping out almost. "Um-"

Confident as ever, he laid back into your pillows, straightening out his legs, "Didn't know you thought like this, Sweetheart.." He started reading, "Kinda want him to fill me until hes dry-"

You leapt onto him - to be honest the word doesn't cut it. You practically jumped on him, trying to grab the book from him but he was swift... dodging your hands artfully as he continued reading. His light and teasing voice was harmonised by your loud commands for him to stop. The room had laughter too: Yours was embarrassment and his was humour.

After a particularly wobbly Eddie! he put the book down, giving you a perfect moment to sling it back onto your cabnit. "Please stop." You frowned.

"Awe sorry baby," He laughed, pulling you down for a cuddle, "It's really hot though." You whined, "It is! Fuck babe," He sighed, "I really didn't think you'd wanna do anything like that!" It surpassed you how he had this ability to never be ashamed or embarrassed about anything. He dipped his head into your neck, "Like being chocked, filled with my cum. fuck, even messy..."

"Shut up!" You leant up, hands flying to his face, coving his mouth and you were straddled to his hips. "I can't believe you- I'm so embarassed!"

"Why?" Earnest and lovie as he moved your hands down.

"You were never meant to find out..."

"Why, you know im into anything?"

"Embarassing."

"No its not."

"yes, it is."

"You know," he started rubbing your thighs, "I'd love to fuck you dumb, fill you up, have you all messy-"

Now you'd be lying if you said he wasn't affecting you- you were embarrassed but so secretly turned on. Your tummy tensed, the blood went to your head, your thighs stiffened. But still your embarrassment was bigger, "Stop making fun of me!"

"Baby baby baby" He cooed, pulling your hands from your face, "I promise i'm really not."

You whined at him, he mimicked you back, pulling you down for a delicate honest kiss. It was deep and slow, him offering his truth to you. And who wouldn't melt into that? His hands now found your hip and your neck, in to your lips his mumbled "Roll over."

You gasp as he rearranges you both, your back now to the bed, "Wanna try something." He sat up continuing, "We can't your little sexual fantasies now-" You squirm in embarrassment, "But" He began stroking your cheek in efforts to pull you out your head. "I wanna try something new.""

He leant down planting a sweet kiss to your lips though you tried to chase him for a second, he was already moving down into your neck, planting even sweeter ones there. You could never stay quiet for his sightly chapped lips and heavy hands - small mewls slipped from you. "Good girl." Quiet, practically breathed from Eddie.

"We can't try the public-people-home stuff, but" another neck kiss, "I do.." another kiss to the other side, "really like the idea" a kiss under your ear, "of having you fully submitted" a kiss to the shell of your ear "to me"

The way you gasp makes Eddie sure he's hit gold with you. As he talks, your hand in his hair pulls and squeezes more, "How about," He moves along to kiss your cheek, "I get you on your knees" Another kiss, "no pillow, because desperate whores don't deserve kind treatment." A light kiss to your lips, "And I let you blow me?" Another kiss, "But" Kiss "I'll be holding your head," He was now resting on his forearms, fingers lost in your hair, "Pushing and pulling you exactly how I want?" Another light kiss met with a hearty pull of your hair, "Fill that little mouth up with my cum."

God you were in heaven - how did you manage to get a boy like him. All you felt you could do was nod at him. A tap of your thigh and you were on the floor kneeling between his legs as he sat on the edge of your bed.

Looking up at him, the shy coy expression fell naturally on you, "Pretty girl, aren't you?" He complimented. "Get on with it then." It was like a switch was flipped.

Excitedly, you get his belt and jeans off. His dick was hard and pretty as ever - not too big but a little wide, a more red tint than the rest of him already bleeding pre cum.

You got personal with it, licking the beed off, replacing it with a kiss. Eddie couldn't help the sigh - you ruin him on the daily no matter what you do. You could get lost playing with his head. He helped by tucking your hair behind your ears, keeping his hands on your lower head and jaw.

The kisses turn into kitten licks met with you looking up at him, his spaced out satisfied look made you smile, "Shit- open your mouth for me."

Sat up a bit more, the head of is cock resting on your lower lip, palms lost behind his calves: you were ready to try something you never thought you'd get to. The hands in your hair pushing you down slowly, and pulled you back up even more delicately - he giving both of you the space to gauge how yous felt.

"Suck it a bit harder" You did. "fuck-you love this, don't you?" You nod.

It was really all he needed - he didn't even need verbal confirmation, just the feel of your nails in the backs of his legs and how your eyes were rolled back and closing was enough, not to mentions the light noises in your throat. He pushed you down with more force, hands now cupping your cheeks and jaw.

He didn't make you deep throat him - neither of you needed to go that far at the moment. The half of his dick that was still straining your jaw send your brains both tumbling.

Eddie yanked you off him with a rough tug to your hair pulling a throat whine out of you, "Shit babe- you're a little slut aren't you?"

You nodded dumbly, "For you- love you."

"I love you too," A thumb stroked your cheek, "Daddy loves you."

Maybe it was the name. Maybe it was the humiliating reminder he had read you diary. Maybe it was the whispering in the empty quiet house. Maybe it was just him. But you were sure he'd just written you off to hell. You felt a beed of slick drop from your cunt.

And Eddie practically felt it too: he could see the haze covering your pretty eyes and the cheeky smile that covered your face.

A thumb toyed with your lip, he continued, "Gotta get you a little collar with my name on it." And with that you basically purred at him. Eddie was sure he was lost in you as you started to barely suck his thumb.

He'd never had you so spaced and floaty. Sure you've both spoken through sex before but nothing like this, nothing so painfully skilled in what the other actually needs to hear. Sex had never felt so possessive until right now.

The sight of you both was like it was from a porno: you, puffy lipped, half lidded eyes and big breaths; Eddie, pointed look, panting, loved up eyes.

The other hand dropped from your cheek and sat around your neck back - the pressure alone made your eyes flutter - and the sight went straight to his dick.

He popped his thumb out your mouth and brung you up for a dirty, messy, deep kiss. No coordination, just lust. Teeth smacking teeth, uncomfortable postures, hands gripping and clawing where ever they could.

He pulled away, standing up as if to leave. But you whine is stopped when you see he leant against your cabinet. Very idolly, he picked up the diary searching for the place he left off on, commanding a "Come here" using his fingers to make a curling motion, not even bothering to look up at you. "Crawl" He sneers almost as you go to get up.

Granted the space wasn't so big so the crawl was more of an awkward on-you-knees- shuffle but boy did that embarrassment climb back up inside you. If this was with anyone else, the pang of embarrassment woulda been too much, but something in Eddies low murmured tone did something totally new to you. "You're a good little pet, aren't you?"

His eyes never left the book in front of him: flicking through pages, scanning for the right sentence. He began reading off again. Completely as though it was the Sunday news paper and not your kinkiest secret fantasies.

"Eddie stop-"

"You know thats not my name." Eyes still in the book, tone stern and cold. You positioned on your claves between his legs, just waiting. "Thought you liked this? I know this isn't as good as being caught but its pretty close, right?" Finally he looks over.

The sudden feeling of something under you made you squirm, "Go on," He continued, "Get yourself off while I read your silly little diary."

The feeling that swelled in your belly was indescribable. It was overwhelming, unignorable and life changing. Like a duckling to its mother, you blindly listened: beginning to slowly rub yourself on the top of his foot.

"Suck my cock too, Sweetheart." He completely disregards you, finally finding his place on the pages. But he didn't start reading until he could feel your lips kiss his cock head.

You try to loose yourself in kissing him and the weight on your tongue but the perching reminder of what he is reading keeps pulling you out. The blood in your ears and the cotton in your brain were getting thicker.

You felt a ring or two pull on the strands of your hair, your gasps causing you to suck his in harder. You felt the rings apply more of a push at certain points of Eddies reading.

It's all sort of too dirty to really feel like its real life. Nobody really experiences this stuff right? Like it's all just movie magic? Clearly not. Clearly somehow you'd hit the jackpot. Somehow in small little irrelevant Hawkins in the mid 80s, you'd met the jack pot.

The sound of a book hitting a surface pulls you from your slack, readjusting yourself back to the present, you felt two hands play with your hair with more intent.

"Fuck-you sure know how to suck a dick, don't you?" He tucked some behind your ear, making you look up at him "Who taught you that?"

"You-da-daddy." Jumbled delivery thanks to the cock in your mouth.

"Sorry couldn't hear you."

"da-daddy" You tried, but sadly coming out more like 'dabby' thanks to the 5 inch obstruction in your throat.

The palms by your ears tighten, "good" It was almost like an extended sigh, "You gonna take it? Tap me if it's too much, yah?" Serious and caring, you nod.

"Yes" You respond to the eyebrow raise, "Yes daddy."

"Good little thing, aren't you?" Another tuck of your hair, and he pulled your head back in opposition to his hips going forward. He was using you clearlessly, not yet pushing you down as deep as he could, but rather just enjoying your lightness.

The room enters a soundtrack of hisses and hums, some slurps and some groans.

"I told you to get yourself off." It wasn't rude but you felt like you were being told off. Your heart pinged in your chest.

It was annoying how good it felt. Yes your knees stung and the carpet has turned into staples but who cared. The hands behind your ears making you deep throat him were heaven, the foot under your clit was heaven, Eddies musky smell was heaven.

Hums and hisses turned into the sound of fabric rubbing and small 'fuck's and 'shit's. And at this rate the streams of dribble coming off your chin and too the floor was definitely anything but disgusting.

Looking up at him and seeing him looking down, heaven too. "Gonna cum in your mouth." You really couldn't help the whorish whine. "Don't swallow it."

Something about that single demand got you were you needed it too. The swelling between your legs seemed to his its peak, the sheen of sweat tripped and your body felt like it was burning. Finger burring into his thighs, tummy tensed: you came over his foot, eyes rolled into the back of your skull.

Eddie using this as the perfect moment to use you. Seeing a moment where you'd given him your everything, he gripped you harder and thrusted deeply into your throat.

Still in your post orgasm haze, the 2 boney hands drag you up by your arm pits, a leg helps keep you stood. "Open." You couldn't even see him at the moment, but you knew behind the black was a man staring at you with all his love.

So you did as he told. Mouth open, cum threatening to spill, "Good, swallow." There was a hand to your throat, and them butterflies danced again. And then there was a light press to your lips that helps bring your eyes back open.

Neither of you could help getting lost a bit in the other - this was a big step, a big new, a good thing too! Eddie broke your moment off and tucked you into his chest, coddling you.

"I love you"

"I-love- you too"

He laughed at your breathiness. "Can we have an actual conversation about this now"

"Gimme a minute- I think my brains all mush."

He laughed again and gave a kiss to your hair.

#help I wrote this all out and it didnt save and I could look at this point for like 2 weeks after.#but she is done!!#I hope ive done your ask well #this was fun!!!!#relocated heads ask #Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson fluf #Eddie Munson soft #stranger things smut #Eddie munson fanfiction #joesph Quinn smut #Eddie Munson ask #joesph quinn #st4 #Eddie Munson headcanons #joesph Quinn fluff #joesph Quinn fanfiction

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dailyadventureprompts · 8 months

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The Mechanics of Baldur's Gate 3

As someone who's constantly tinkering with the mechanics of my favourite RPG, I LOVE a lot of what Larian has done with D&D; not only accurately translating the base system but improving upon in ways I never thought of.

Playing BG3 feels good, and I want to see how much of their work I can adapt for my own table. As such, here's a breakdown of a bunch of little tweaks they've made to 5e (taken from the bg3 wiki) and whether or not I think they're a good fit for regular pencil and paper d&d.

Shove is not a part of the attack action. It is a bonus action available to all characters. Shove only pushes the target back an amount that depends on the shover's strength and the target's weight. It normally does not knock them prone unless they are shoved off a high ledge.

This might be THE best design Larian implemented and is instantly going in my games. Bonus action shoving is such a natural addition to combat, gives so many more tactical options. My one protest is that I am NOT calculating the weight of every creature and object ( mainly because I'm terrible at guessing weights for things) so I'd go with the distance calculation based on the creature's size and con score.

Gaining inspiration based on backgrounds

Gee, a mechanical reward for roleplaying your character, one that's way more straight forward than the DM arbitrated "ideals, bonds, flaws," system. From now on I'm going to give each of my players an upfront " You gain inspiration when you ______" note on their character sheet based on their backgrounds.

The party is limited to two short rests per long rest. Short rests restore each ally's hit points by an amount equal to half their maximum HP (rounded down). There is no hit die rolling. Long rests require camp supplies, which are food items that must be looted or purchased. In towns you will be able to rest at an inn.

This is a mixed bag for me only because I like hitdie as a mechanical abstract and I don't want to see them removed. Tbh I wish more mechanics interacted with them and they were called something abstract like "stamina" or something. That said I ADORE the camp supplies idea because it not only gives you something minor to reward exploration with besides GP. On the otherhand tracking all those supplies without the game's inventory management would be tedious as hell so it'd need to be highly simplified.

I especially like the idea of limited short rests/supplies in larger survival based adventures where time isn't at a premium like it is inside a dungeon.

If you hide while not in a creature's sight cone, you automatically succeed. If you try to hide while in a creature's sight cone, you automatically fail. If you are hidden and enter a creature's sight cone, you must roll stealth against the creature's passive perception. This may be a straight roll, advantage, or disadvantage, based on the creature's senses and the level of lighting. Some creatures with different senses such as blindsight may follow different rules

Congrats on fixing stealth rolls Larian. No notes.

LOTS more opinions under the cut.

When a creature is at least 10 ft above their target and makes a ranged attack, they receive a +2 bonus to the attack roll due to high ground. When a creature is at least 10 ft below their target and makes a ranged attack, they receive a -2 penalty to the attack roll due to low ground.

This is fine, and quite inline with a lot of fixes I've seen for flanking rules. I'm fine with a little extra battlefield math in order to make moments of advantage (spending inspiration, reckless attacking etc) shine.

The game does not stop a character from casting a leveled spell with both an action and a bonus action

Mixed on this, on one hand I've played enough clerics to know how much it sucks to have to use your bonus action to do a necessary spell and then be stuck with a so-so cantrip or melee attack for standard. On the other hand there's some design balance issues at play here.

Help is an Action. This ability allows characters to aid an ally in combat and remove negative Conditions. Using the help action on a downed ally brings them back to 1 hit point and leaves them prone.

Love the idea of help doing multiple things AND being a solution to minor status conditions. and giving everyone the ability to help means I can be a lot more aggressive when it comes to knocking character to 0. if I had to further patch this, I'd say that this also allows for a medicine check to allow a creature to spend a hitdie when they're downed, or allows the helping character to make a "SNAP OUT OF IT, WE'RE YOUR FRIENDS" charisma roll for charmed allies.

Jumping is a bonus action which consumes 10 ft of movement speed. With a Strength score of 10 or below, a creature can jump 15 ft, and this increases by 5 ft for every two points in strength above 10. At 20 Str a creature may spend 10 ft of movement speed and a bonus action to jump, and can travel 35 ft effectively increasing the creature's movement speed by up to 25 feet.

This, combined with the prone rules (see below) is JUICY, as it allows for risk-reward battlefield mobility . That said I'd add some caveats/clarifications: The jump always succeeds in moving you, but if you're taking damage, jumping up or down more than 10ft, or into rough terrain you need to make an acrobatics check not to beef it and fall prone (ending your turn). Your jump is likewise a buffer for how far you can willingly fall before taking damage, but if you fall after your jump, you always land prone.

Weapon actions, 'nough said.

It's more complexity than I'd give to first time players but HOT DAMN if it isn't a great idea to give the martial characters some options instead of just making the same attacks over and over again. I've actually been sockpiling 3rd party versions of this for a while now and I can't wait to add them in.

All The conditions are great:

Blinded: In addition to the other effects, ranged attacks are limited to 15 ft range. Blinded creatures can also make opportunity attacks.

Frightened: Creatures which are frightened are unable to move at all (rather than being unable to move toward the source of their fear), unless the effect instead makes them "fearful" which gives them the frightened effect as well as making them flee.

Prone: Being prone gives disadvantage on Strength and Dexteritysaving throws, attacks against a prone creature have advantage out to a range of 10 ft rather than 5 ft, and ranged attacks against a prone creature do not have disadvantage. Your character cannot do anything while prone. Starting the turn while prone will cause you to automatically use half your movement to stand up. Becoming prone during your turn automatically ends your turn.

Wet: This is a new condition that prevents the character from burning (e.g. from Searing Smite) and grants resistance to fire damage, but also makes the creature vulnerable to lightning and cold damage

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #d&d mechanics #dnd homebrew #homebrew mechanic #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #ttprg #pathfinder #yes I know I misspelled the title

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knights-tempura · 9 months

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#The Hidden Dungeon Only I Can Enter #Tomoyuki Hino #manga #omake #Olivia Servant #Noir Stardia #funny #lolz

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beesmygod · 5 months

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REVERSE ENGINEERING THE PURPOSE OF THE CROWN OF ILLUSIONS

just hear me out. then you can tell me if im insane.

in bloodborne, there is a unique piece of head wear called "the crown of illusions". it serves a single purpose: to open an illusory wall revealing the location of an otherwise entirely hidden NPC, annalise, queen of the vilebloods.

the crown is dropped after a boss battle and you are intended to put it on immediately after the fight so that the fake wall can be revealed in a cut scene. they did NOT want you to miss this mechanic. otherwise, why not simply have the throne room blocked by a fog gate? its fine for other bosses, right?

this mechanic is never used again. this is insanely weird because 1. there are other illusory walls in the game specifically in the chalice dungeons (twice, i believe, in the lowest possible levels). however, they function like standard fromsoft illusory walls and are revealed by hitting them with a weapon. the crown does nothing. and 2. there is otherwise no satisfactory explanation for this mechanic at all.

i have often expressed my frustration that when things dont "line up" in fromsoft games its chalked up to dev error or some flavor of "its all dreams/made up" which i refuse to entertain unless its the last possible explanation barring literally all others. this stupid crown has been bothering me for years because of how seemingly inexplicable it is. this has been doubled by the fact that the crown is not unique; alfred leaves a crown of his own (and must have had it to enter the queen's chambers) at the end of his quest and the titular sages of the "sage's hair" item are depicted as wearing crowns.

visually, the sage items are based off the real life concept of catacomb saints (and, in fact, i think "saint" would have been a better translation over "sage" considering this, but thats neither here nor there), hence the gems and jewels and crowns and shit. that part makes sense to me just fine. but where else would this illusion mechanic have been used?

ill tell you where: in the secret 4th layers of the "canon" (non-root) chalice dungeons!

canonically, there is only one chalice dungeon with a 4th layer, otherwise they all end at layer 3. this also intrigued me bc of its irregularity in a system of "dungeons" that are almost entirely copy-pasted rooms; why choose a completely random chalice in the middle of the sequence have an extra layer?

i came up with my own explanation for this that works a treat: the chalice in question, lower pthumeru, has rom the vacuous spider as its THIRD LAYER boss. rom is a boss you would have first encountered outside of the dungeons who has a unique ability: to block rituals and secrets from sight. the rom you fight in the main story is hiding a secret ritual and killing her reveals the ritual to the world. the rom you fight in the dungeons is hiding a secret layer of the labyrinth wherein the hunter will find a truly terrible secret: the source of the beast blood.

we now know this fourth layer IS narratively intended to be a secret layer...because EVERY story-related chalice dungeon had a secret 4th layer! they are "fully functional" if not a bit odd/broken (but not NEARLY not to the point of other hacked dungeons) but with bosses that either fucking suck or are placeholders (...or im coping lol). but look at this: ive timestamped this video at the point where the 4th layer elevator "reveals" itself!

youtube

other boss room exits are simply blocked by a fog wall (or, if you're on the last layer, it dead ends and you use the lamp to warp out). this "fade in" effect is the illusory reveal effect! as the linked post from the eternally fascinating hard work from r/tombprospectors reveals, there is some weird ass shit in these layers. enough that i started a red string wall of madness to try to keep track of it all. its not even weird stuff in a game dev way, i mean weird in a plot and lore way. its awesome lol.

the 4th layers were only discovered within the last 2 years. i am confident now about the mechanics of how this was intended to work, but still shaky on the ~lore implications~. what were kings and saints only permitted to see and access? what were they privy to that the rest of the populace of the dead civilization was not?

LORE THEORY: THE ORIGINAL PURPOSE AND USE OF THE CROWN OF ILLUSIONS WAS TO REVEAL SECRET 4TH LAYERS OF THE CHALICE DUNGEONS, AS EVIDENCED BY THEIR EXISTENCE IN THE GAME CODE AND MEANS OF ACCESS. THEY CHOPPED IT OUT DUE TO THE USUAL FROMSOFT DEV CYCLE INCLUDING A PART WHERE THEY SPILL EVERYTHING ON THE FLOOR MINUTES BEFORE LAUNCH AND HAVE TO PUT EVERYTHING BACK TOGETHER QUICKLY

#long post #bloodborne lore #bloodborne #Youtube

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faline-cat444 · 2 years

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A week of new and continuity

#Colorless #Crazy Food Truck #Frieren #Frieren Beyond Journey's End #Classroom of the Elite #Beastars #Arifureta #Undead Unluck #Mashle #The Hidden Dungeon Only I Can Enter #We Never Learn

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sebastianwallows · 1 year

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Locked In

Sebastian Sallow x m!reader

Summary - Request for “Hey! I love your fics they're so enjoyable to read, I was wondering if you could write something where reader and Sebastian get trapped inside an all anti magic room and now their only option is to wait for help but hours go by, it getting cold and they begin to need eachother 😶"

Word Count - 2,144

Warnings - 18+ light smut

A/N - I opted to do this one as m!reader because why not and it wasn't specified. I hope it came out satisfactory enough

In an effort to keep Sebastian at bay and out of any more major trouble, you had convinced him to keep his escapades inside of Hogwarts. He often used Anne as a reason why he was up to no good. You knew that was partially true. The other part of him just couldn't sit still and be satiated attending classes like normal. After a charms class where you learned Ascendio, he could barely sit still until you had a free period. It wasn't exactly a secret that the castle had hidden rooms and paths all over the place, you just had to look. There was a statue in the courtyard that was so isolated Sebastian figured it had to have some purpose. He had cast loads of spells at it, including reparo once or twice, trying to uncover whatever it hid.

"This has got to be it! It's had a feather carved on the bottom this whole time," he spoke to you in excitedly.

It was afternoon when you had the time to go explore and you could barely keep up with him on the walk there. He just barely looked around to ensure you were alone before he cast the spell.

"Ascendio!"

The light from his wand struck the image of a feather and it popped off and flew straight up into the air. It seemed this had caused the weight of the statue to shift and it swung to the side revealing an opening in the ground.

Sebastian threw his fists in the air in triumph before making his way over, kneeling down to peer into the hole.

"There's a ladder here and I can make out a hallway, it looks lit up with torches," he brought his head up to look at you, hair flopping back into place, " what are you waiting for?"

You stared at him in disbelief for a moment before a laugh escaped your mouth.

"Sebastian you want me to crawl into this dark hole in the ground? It seems a bit dungeon-y. You don't think we should prepare first?"

He shrugged, fully preparing himself to get on the ladder and start heading down whether you followed him or not.

"It's Hogwarts, there can't be anything worse down here than we've fought before."

You let out a groan, resolved to following him because you knew he wouldn't listen. He had been trying for days to find out what the statue was hiding.

You started down the ladder behind him, feet thudding onto the stone floor below when you reached the bottom. Looking up you could see that it was much further below ground that you had anticipated.

You turned to see Sebastian, wand at the ready and anxious to start poking around.

"Come on, Y/N."

He grabbed your hand and started down the hallway, examining every brick in the walls to make sure he didn't miss a thing.

"I hope these leads us somewhere more interesting than that time all we found was a pair of goggles. Honestly sometimes it's like the wizards who built these things are just playing tricks on us."

You smiled as he pulled you along, threading your fingers through his for a more comfortable grip. You attempted to be cautious, but really all you were in was a narrow tunnel that didn't seem too intimidating.

As you both took in the scene you finally made your way to the end of the hall where an old, ricket door was just hanging open.

"Alright, Sebastian. Go tell me what your treasure is."

His face dropped as you halted your steps, not keen on entering the dark room.

"Come on, I'll just be twice as disappointed if I open some rubbish chest without you. Are you scared?" he teased you.

You dropped his hand, crossing your arms.

"It looks creepy. This hallway was lit well enough, but I do not just wander into dark rooms."

He looked at you with a pout on his face, "I guess we're not going anywhere then until you're willing to come with me."

"You are 18 years old, Sebastian."

"So are you, and you're afraid of the dark?!"

He reached out to you, tugging on your robes until you reluctantly stumbled past the door with him. The door swung closed behind you as you both tried and failed to cast lumos.

You both jumped in surprise and the second you went to pull on the handle it just fell off in your hands. You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, trying to not think about how much you wanted to kill Sebastian. You could hear him frantically trying to cast a spell, but no light ever appeared.

"Y/N..." his voice was quiet and feeble as he realized the mistake he had made.

"Sebastian. The door is locked."

You slowly turned around to face him, only the broad outline of his figure visible in the dark.

"You just got us —"

"How was I supposed to know!"

You yelled over top of each other before both going silent. You pinched the bridge of your nose and let out a laugh you couldn't hold.

"I'm not sure why I expected this to go any differently. This is just what happens when I'm around you."

He gave you a sheepish smile, "But it's fun and keeps you on your toes right? Never boring?"

You both burst out laughing and resigned to your fate of not getting out of that door and being stuck in the dark. You started to take in what was around you, but it was clear there was no obvious exit.

The room was small and smelled of dust. It seemed like someone's private study with some books lining the shelves, a desk, and a small sofa. Unfortunately, there wasn't even a whole lot to explore to occupy yourselves. Opening up the books did you no good since you couldn't see.

You sighed and took a seat on the old sofa. Your eyes had now adjusted somewhat to the mostly dark room, you tried a few innocuous spells to see if anything would work, but they all failed.

"Well, I think we may have to rethink this and wait for everyone to notice we've gone missing together. At least Ominis should notice that it's strange for us both not to be in class."

Sebastian sat next to you, dejected.

"I'm sorry. I — I guess that I should have let you stay outside the room. Then at least you could've sent for some help."

"Are you scared in here? You can sit closer to me. It's understandable if you don't like the dark."

You felt him scoot closer to you and you sighed. After having fought trolls and huge spiders, you didn't like admitting you were a grown man afraid of the dark.

You moved close enough to where your thighs pressed against on another and you leaned onto his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you and gently rubbed across your arm.

"If it makes you feel better, I don't think there are any monsters in here."

"Monsters? Sebastian, you're literally touching me."

He shoved you lightly with his body and you realized how nice it felt to be so close. Your thoughts wandered to places you were certain were not appropriate for the current situation. You shifted in your seat attempting to hide the tugging of your trousers to adjust yourself.

You sat together for a long while and began to lose time, once or twice you had drifted to sleep against Sebastian, curling up against him and clinging to his robes. Every time you woke up you felt embarrassed and attempted to right yourself, but he would just lean into you a squeeze his arms that were around you.

In a lucid moment, you commented about how it felt cold in the room.

"It must be dark by now. I'm upset we've missed dinner more than anything, but you're right," he sighed.

He lifted you from his lap for a moment before bringing his cloak around you to encase you.

"Is this any better?"

You shrugged your shoulders against him, "We've been practically cuddling for hours. You've held me this whole time and it's still cold. While I do enjoy it, it's just not helping much."

Normally you would feel silly to tell him such things, but it was hard to care too much when you were trapped in the dark and he couldn't see you anyhow.

"Besides, you've got to be cold too," you squeezed his side, surprised when he shivered.

You bolted upright and immediately started trying to cover him with your own robe as well.

"Sebastian! You should have mentioned you were cold, I've just been half-asleep this whole time."

He placed a hand over yours to stop you. At this point you could both see fairly well even in the darkness.

"No, it's, er, not that. I'm fine, really. I wore this sweater underneath my shirt today."

Your eyebrows creased together in confusion.

"What? I mean, I know you must be cold too, but if that's not the problem, what is? Are you feeling sick?"

You placed a hand on his forehead, realizing it was futile since your hand was cold and of course he was going to feel warm.

"No," you could almost make out the ghost of a smile on his features, "there's nothing you needed to worry about."

He guided your hand off of his forehead and rested it on his lap. That was when his eyes went wide and he realized his mistake.

"Oh," was what slipped from your mouth as your hand rested on his erection. You felt frozen to the spot, especially since he had guided your hand there.

"No! I didn't mean for you to do anything," he tossed your hand aside, "I, it was an accident, I don't know why I feel this way right now." He rubbed the side of his neck and looked away from you.

In that moment you felt like your opportunity was now or never to act on the things that had plagued your mind for a while now. You threw your leg over his and straddled his lap, planting a wet kiss on his lips.

You pulled away breathless. You wanted to say something, to let him know if he didn't feel the same that he didn't have to do anything, but he didn't allow you the time. His hand was tugging on your hair in seconds, bringing you closer again. When you pressed your hips to his he moaned into your mouth.

"I think this is a good idea to warm up," he said between kisses. You had no protests. You guided a cold hand beneath his shirt, untucking it from his pants to feel his warm abdomen.

"Keep touching me," he whined. You trailed your mouth across his jaw, down to his neck, sucking and pulling at his sensitive skin. You were definitely starting to feel warmer already. He encircled his arms around you to trace his fingers down your back and grip your ass, firmly pulling your own hard-on against him. Incoherent words tumbled from both of your lips while you desperately felt each other up.

You adjusted yourself to work on unfastening his pants when all of a sudden the door behind you thudded open loudly, a warm light entering the room. You jumped apart, rolling off of Sebastian to sit next to him.

You were greeted with Imelda standing in front of you, hands on her hips as Ominis stood behind her.

"Why have you two been hiding in here all day?! To snog?"

Ominis raised his brows at you both, unable to see the red faces and tented pants that Imelda could.

Sebastian stuttered, trying to answer for you both, but clearly at a loss for words.

"I — we were," he cleared his throat to prevent his voice from cracking, "we were. We learned accio and I wanted to come down here to explore."

She shook her head, scolding you like you were her children, "Did you just figure out that's how you get down here? Everyone knows about this place, they just aren't dumb enough to lock themselves in this room. The hallway is usually a fine enough place to hide."

You exchanged helpless glances with Sebastian, realizing now that it looked like you had come down here for one very specific purpose.

"No! That's not why we came down here, we've been down here all day and it was boring and cold and it—"

She put a hand up to stop you before you could incriminate yourself anymore.

"I don't want to hear it. Just get out of here so we can hand over all your missed assignments."

"Sebastian, why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone?"

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x m!reader #hogwarts legacy x reader #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x oc #hogwarts legacy x mc

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grampstaxidermy87 · 2 years

Text

Tame The Beast

Pairing:Volturi Kings x Shifter!Reader

Requested by the lovely: @transient-colours

Request: Okay so like I'm obsessed with the idea of poly Volturi kings with a shifter reader. Like the idea of the reader resting at the base of their thrones in animal form while trials take place? Mmm. Or when the reader gets restless from being cooped up inside all the time, all four go for a vacation in the wilderness and just let loose? maybe they can meet because the reader is the daughter of a leader of a shifter tribe that has come to form a treaty with the Volturi?

Warning: death, extreme fluff, and slight angst.

An: I am so sorry this took so long darling; I rewrote this so many times and I finally got to a point where I felt comfortable posting. I hope you enjoy my lovelies!

Soft chuffs of bliss vibrated in the ears of the immortals as they stood in their places around the throne room, many wore an expression of adoration as they chose to listen to that instead of the pitiful pleading of those on trial throughout the day.

Once the doors shut on yet another guilty party being taken to the dungeons Marcus let out a huff to release his growing aggravation, his tense expression softened immediately when he felt a pressure on his lap.

Turning his attention to the large feline whose head laid happily on his lap, A warm smile pulled at his lips as he began to run his fingers through its fur.

"I’m alright Mia Regina, just one more and then we may retire to my chambers." The Tiger hummed as it looked up at him, ensuring his words were truthful so she wouldn’t need to worry.

To unknowing witnesses, seeing a jungle cat in Volterra Italy surrounded by bloodthirsty vampires, you'd be rightfully alarmed.

But to any who lived in the supernatural world, this was the most important creature on the planet. Protected by not only the vampire race, but any who have met her.

To say she was a well-loved queen would be a horrible understatement, The appearance of a beast she took but inside she held the heart of an angel.

And that heart belonged to the three most feared men on earth.

"My sweet, come to me." Aro called out, beaming when the tigress looked at him.

Marcus growled at him for stealing her attention, watching with a slight pout as she slowly stood and trotted over to the raven-haired king.

Aro leaned downward and took her fluffy cheeks in his hands, pressing his face into her fur as he read through her thoughts of the day.

He chuckled at the quips she had made for a few guilty parties that now were being disposed of in the dungeons furnace, feeling prideful that no one but he was able to hear his queens' witty remarks.

He always found joy in his wife's humor, finding it as a breath of fresh air during on the gloomiest of days.

"As delightful as always my beloved." Pressing a kiss to her snout he leaned back as she moved on to her final lover, who did not bother to hide his mischievous smirk as he eyed her approaching form.

Unbothered as she lifted the front half of her torso up so that her body covered his, completely hidden to those who would enter now.

"Hello Kitty." He teased, biting back his laughter when she huffed at him for the nickname.

"Don't rile her up brother, we still have one last trial to get through and can't have you sitting there with ripped clothes." Aro warned though even he knew when it came to those two, he might as well be talking to a wall.

Ignoring his brothers' words Caius leaned forward and buried his face in the fur of her chest, fingers tangling into her sides as she plopped her head atop his. Panting wildly as he scratched her sweet spots, tail swooshing faster as she tried to keep herself standing.

"You're just jealous that she loves me more." Caius teased earning a growl from his brothers.

-Reader Pov-

As the last trial commenced Caius continued to rake his skilled fingers through my fur as I laid beside his throne listening as Aro's commanding voice filled the air, "We have come to our final decision. Young Ivan for your crimes against your coven and our kind as a whole, you have been sentenced to death. Felix."

Screams of defiance echoed in the marble throne room as the guard followed his king's demand, ridding the criminal vampire of his head.

When Caius's hand left my fur I plopped onto my side, letting out a soft huff at the blissful feeling of the cold across my body. Demetri was standing guard on the other side of my ferocious king, seeing as he was one of my personal guards he was never far.

It had been a little over 5 and a half years since I met my imprints and became queen.

My father wasn't very pleased by this fact since he expected me to take over as the leader of the pack when he passed. But I didn't belong there...my rightful place was right here with my wonderful husbands.

There was only one thing I did not like about my life here in Volterra...the humans.

My tribe resided in the jungles of India it was perfect cover for our kind as we took the form of different jungle cats. But here in Italy there was no way that I could go out without causing a scene, meaning I was stuck cooped up in this castle.

There was only so many times you could run through the same halls before it drove you crazy.

"Il Mio Amore?" My head snapped up to see Marcus watching me with slight worry, leaning forward to peer at me when he noticed that I had been still for too long.

Aro's attention was now on me after hearing his brother's tone, he stood up and knelt down to my side. I looked up tiredly at him as he placed his hands on my cheeks.

His eyes grew distant as his fingers ran through my fur, a yawn rumbled from my throat as I leaned into his touch.

He looked down at me sadly, standing up he looked over at Demetri, "Why don’t you take the queen out to the gardens for some fresh air, we’ll send the twins to stand in for you if you are needed.” Demetri nodded and waited for me to lazily stand up before leading the way out.

Once the doors shut behind us Aro turned back to face his fellow kings. "What did you see brother?” Caius inquired, Worried for his queen and mate.

“It would seem that our darling (Y/n) has been growing rather restless lately.” Aro commented, his brows furrowed as he went over the thoughts of his mate again.

"I have noticed as well, brother...Her animal side craves freedom. Perhaps it is time to take a much-needed break?" Marcus hummed knowing it would be the best option for their queen, and the smiles that formed on his brother's faces assured him they would not argue against it.

“I believe I have a few calls to make.” Aro said bidding his brothers A-dew while he made preparations.

———

“My queen, you can shift back now. I have ensured no one will disturb you.” Demetri stated, placing a black silk slip dress on the stone bench he turned his back to give me privacy while I transformed back.

“Thank you, Demetri. You’re safe to look now.” I spoke smoothly after I pulled the dress over my curves before laying back on the bench.

“Are you alright madame?” The blonde asked walking closer and blocking the sun from blinding me as I looked up at him.

“Just tired darling, nothing to worry about.” He didn't seem convinced but let it be as he looked up at the sky. "It's nice out, wouldn't you rather run around the garden?"

Letting out a hum I covered my face with my arm, "I’m not feeling it today dear; I think I’m just going to sunbathe for a while.”

His brows furrowed in concern, clearly worried by his queens sudden change of character from my usual energetic self.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted Felix signaling him, "Excuse me for one moment my queen.” Not waiting for a reply he sped over to his friends side.

“What happened? Do the kings need me?” Felix shook his head gave him a look before making sure their queen wasn’t listening.

“The kings have an island just outside of Rio, the kings plan on bringing her there for a vacation.” Demetri caught himself before he could gasp, "Oh she is going to love that! Perhaps this is just what she needs to get back to her old self again?”

Felix hummed in agreement, "Let us hope, my friend. For her sake as well as all of ours.”

After another hour I decided to retire to my bedroom, I was surprised however to see my blonde king running around my room throwing my things into suitcases.

"Caius why are you packing my things? Is there a mission?" His head snapped up when I entered the room, a smile that he showed only when we were alone appeared. "No Dearest, not a mission. Come sit."

Motioning to the bed he watched as I walked deeper into the room and sat on the edge.

Appearing in front of me he knelt down and took my hands, Eyes soft as he saw the tiredness in mine.

"We have noticed how restless you've become being stuck in the castle for so long." My smile fell and before I could open my mouth, he sent me a look. "Don't argue because everyone has noticed it, you feel trapped...confined. Something we never wanted you to feel."

He lifted my hands up to his lips, kissing each knuckle with utter worship. "We wish to take you to one of our islands by Rio. The plan is to stay there for a month, to which you will be able to run free and without worry as much as you want."

My eyes widened in awe as his words processed in my mind.

"Oh Caius..." He smiled as tears filled my eyes, pulling me into his tight embrace as he stood up. "I've been so tired..." He hugged me tighter, "I know my love, just know that the next time you feel like this...tell us. We are your mates, your lovers, your husbands. We wish to be there for you as you are for us."

Wiping away my tears he cupped my cheeks and brought me in for a kiss, "We love you more than anything kitty, and I cannot wait to see you in your element."

---

The ocean air hit me like a wave the moment I stepped out of the private jet, shutting my eyes as I soaked in the warmth.

"Darling, would you prefer to go directly to the house or run around a bit first?" Marcus asked as he appeared at my side, happy to see a hint of his wife's true self finally coming back.

"You already know which one I'll pick don't you?" His only answer was a smirk, holding out his hand I quickly shed my jewelry and cape and handed them to him.

"Go wild my love." Placing a kiss on his lips I laughed happily before running.

Rips and tears filled the air as I shifted, falling to all fours as I ran faster. Time seemed to slow as the wind slipped through my fur, a feeling of bliss that I haven't felt in a long time.

This sense of relief...not having to fear being seen by humans.

God had I missed this feeling.

----

"I suppose we do not need to fear if we made the right choice or not." Aro hummed as he and Caius joined their brothers side.

"I doubt we do, Look at her..." Caius stated watching their wife in awe.

Marcus hummed in agreement, "She is finally herself again, our beautiful (Y/n)."

#Volturi #volturi x reader #Poly!volturi kings x reader #aro volturi #caius volturi #marcus volturi #volturi imagine #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #twilight saga #shifter!reader

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