#and then snakes cause long and thin

[erisavernus]

we measure horses by hands and snakes by feet, that's messed up

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: May 11

"Natalie” by Bruno Mars

[etfrin]

❝ ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ higher with my lover — coriolanus snow ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ ❞

☆　Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), riding, handjob, mentions of blood & blood sucking, Capitol! Reader, reader is mentioned to be a virgin, mentions of poison and death, district+lucy gray slander (necessary to the plot), mention of Sejanus, degradation & praise kink if you squint, dry humping | lmk if I missed anything!

☆　Pairing: fem! Reader x young! peacekeeper! Coriolanus Snow

☆　Summary: Lucy Gray left but you find him in the forest instead and shit goes down

☆　A/N: this fic is inspired by the fact that i imagined myself to be the one sucking the 'poisoned bite' and be like now we both die and i like you lmao, i hope you guys like it!

Ps. This is the official canon ending :D

Ps². Listened to this song mainly to write the smut, so i am just gonna leave it here. . .

| masterlist | taglist | bc: @cafekitsune |

“Lucy Gray! Are you trying to kill me!?”

Coriolanus Snow yelled as he kept pointing the gun in random directions. It wasn't long after that he began shooting in the sky causing the murder of numerous mockingjays up in the air.

He had found the necklace, he had found the scarf. She left. She was a loose end. She needs to die, fucking die so Snow could have the life he deserved. The life he worked for, the life he was entitled to since birth. The life of a Snow.

“Lucy Gray! We can talk about this!” He yells out, “Just come out!” But Lucy Gray was nowhere to be found, as if she was a ghost. As if she was the Lucy Gray from the song, a mystery to never be found.

He pointed his gun in the direction where he heard the sound of a twig snapping. It wasn't Lucy Gray but you. Your eyes were wide, chest heaving as you slowly walked towards him with your hands raised. “Coryo,” you whispered, scared, your feet walking towards him with hesitation but never flattering.

He had no idea how you had found him. He wasn't sure why you were either here. It was already too much for him that Sejanus came (and now he is dead, dead, dead. The third person he had killed). And you followed him too, pulling in favors, deciding to be a medic along with Sejanus, serving time with your best friends (not his, he never considered you or Sej as his friend).

“Where's Lucy Gray!?” He yelled, walking towards you, gun still pointed. It makes you walk backward until your back hits the hard bark of a tree. The rough texture of the bark is uncomfortable due to your thin shirt. You scrunch your nose at the mention of her. You never liked her much. He didn't know why but perhaps it was all a ruse just for this very moment. This very betrayal from her.

“How would I know?” You scoffed, the haughty attitude of a Capitol citizen coming through despite having a gun pointed at you. He pressed the end of the gun at your chest. “Tell me the truth,” he growled. “That girl tried to poison me. Tell me where she is!”

“I don't know,” you hiss back, your eyes ablaze. “And get the gun out of my face. You should be heading to a fucking medic right now. Are you sure she poisoned you?” Your voice was now laced with concern, eyes softening as you looked at him, his t-shirt clinging to him with sweat, his cheeks flushed, eyes so wide that the blues were hidden with black instead.

Coryo gets the gun away from you to put his arm forward. Showing you his snake bite, the puncture wound oozing out beads of red blood on his snow-like skin. “It's probably non-poisonous,” you said, trying to sound optimistic.

“No, it's not!” He growls, and anger fills in every movement and word of his. “She's trying to kill me. She's district! I shouldn't have- shouldn't have-” You hold his arm, your fingers around his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“It's fine,” you whispered, trying your best that the tone you use with him is soft and gentle. You want to shake him out of the mental breakdown that was happening. He shakes his head and you press your fingertips into the wound.

“It's fine,” you whispered, “let's get you back. Come on.” You try to urge him forward, only for him to pull himself out of your grasp. “No! I need to find her. She's a loose end. She will tell. She's a snake, not a songbird,” he rambles.

Despite the confusion you felt with his words, you grit your teeth. “Come on, Coryo! We need to head back,” you said, your hand on his wrist, trying to drag him out of the middle of the green forest.

“No! We need to find her out before the poison works” he yells, pulling you back and pushing you. Pinning you effectively between him and a tree.

You glare at him before a moment of impulsivity takes over you. You take his arm, your mouth around the bleeding wound and you suck letting whatever ‘poisoned blood’ onto your tongue. His eyes widen as he sees the redness of his blood now painting your lips. “Now can we go back?” You said as you licked the blood clean. “Because if it's poison, we will both die.”

“Why would-” he visibly freezes. He doesn't want your blood on his hands. No- it would be on Lucy's hands. It's her fault. Everything is her fault. “Why would you do that?” He whispered, leaning closer to you, his face now mere inches away from yours. It was like he was seeing you for the first time. Like he never saw you for you until now. Someone like him. Unhinged (not that he's willing to admit it).

He hooks his fingers under your chin, holding your jaw and tilting your lips towards his. His eyes were searching for sanity but seemed to have found none as a smile (filled with insanity) spread on his face. “You're crazy,” he whispered, “Are you that desperate?”

“Desperate for your well-being, Coryo,” you whispered, hating the fact that your gaze fell on his soft-looking lips. “I don't know what's wrong, Coriolanus. But come with me, let's go back. Lucy Gray isn't worth anything.”

“Lucy Gray is worth everything!” He yelled, pressing his body with yours, pain in your bones flaring as he without noticing crushed you.

“I am sure she will have poison for you too. I am sure she will come back then,” you spit out. You felt outrageous at his behavior. “She ran, didn't she? To the North. You gonna go there too, Coryo?” you questioned, your eyes now meeting his. You try to find an answer but find something deeply tangled instead, neither a yes or a no.

You never felt such pity for Coriolanus Snow before as you did now. You put your palm on his cheek. “Come with me,” you said, softening your voice. “Back to the peacekeepers, the general told me about District 2 and I can put in favors so we can be back in the Capitol in no time.”

“You didn't choose Sejanus,” you whispered, the mention of Sej causing him to freeze. “Choose me,” you plead, feeling pathetic for being reduced to this. But it was for your Coryo so it was worth it. Wasn't it?

A chip from the bird makes him look away but you use your hand to make him face you again. Tears begin to pool in your eyes. You find your heart preparing itself for a rejection. “Choose me,” you choke out, a sob in your throat ready to come out when he says no, no, no Lucy Gray it is, never you.

You wait and wait for the rejection, your eyelids closing themselves so he doesn't see himself (or the way you looked at him with love) in the reflective tears. “Look at me,” he whispered, feeling his hot breath on your lips now. And you didn't want to listen but your eyes opened back up, light coming in and he's in your sight.

All glorious as you always thought of Snow.

Snow lands on top.

Haven't every Capitol child learned that from history? You were no exception. And you never planned to be. Even after finding out the truth about his situation, you never thought less of him, if anything everything you felt about him increased tenfold without your consent. Oh, how you should hate him. Oh, but how much you love him.

He leaned in and you didn't move. He stops for a mere second as if reconsidering his decision. But then decided to fuck it because the next thing you know his lips against yours.

He tasted like cheap alcohol, he tasted like ruin and danger. You ate it all up by parting your lips so his tongue could slip in. You let out a moan as his teeth bite into your lips. For a moment you think he's a snake and that he's the one poisoning you. His poison is more potent than an actual snake’s ever could be.

You were simple prey, that's it. Instead of a bullet, he was shooting your heart with a kiss. And it was working because in the future he will be the end of you. A slow, slow poison, he controlled the kiss despite the way his tongue slid against yours was clumsy but so perfect.

You kissed him back to the best of your abilities, wondering briefly if you tasted like the pastry you had in the morning. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth to suck and bite however he wants. Your hands find his buzz cut instead of his golden curls and a whine leaves your lips from the frustration of the loss.

Your hand is on his nape and another is still on his cheek as neither of you breaks the kiss. It didn't matter that you were getting lightheaded. It didn't matter that you could feel your heartbeat increasing due to lack of oxygen. He was everything, you would be damned if you broke the kiss.

You gasp as the kiss is broken. You stare into his eyes, searching for something, anything. But you find nothing but ice blue. It sent chills down your spine but at least he had calmed down now. “Feeling better?” You asked and you got a rough nod as a reply.

“Come on, we have work to do,” he whispered as he pulled back. His dog tag dangles as he begins to walk towards the cabin again, navigating the path with his father's compass.

You find the cabin and the guns. Coriolanus looks at you waiting for a protest, disgust, expecting you to run away just like Lucy Gray. You didn't do anything except sigh, your shoulder wearing down as you realized the truth of it all. You didn't say a word but your hand finds his. He doesn't say anything either but squeezes your hand back. An unspoken promise. He had chosen you. You had chosen him. You were in this together now.

There's no going back.

Both of you row the boat and let the guns sink into the river, never to be found again. You find your way back to the cabin, the rain pouring down again. You sit beside Snow- no, no, still Coryo. Always Coryo. Your head on his shoulder, your knees pressed to your chest as you hear the tip tap of rain outside.

Not a single sound is made. But as time passes and the rain doesn't stop, you begin to crave his lips again. As if that one kiss was morphine, and you needed more to heal the ache of your soul. “Coriolanus,” you whispered.

“Coryo,” he reprimanded softly, his tone enticing as if he was trying to bewitch. You feel your palms sweat as embarrassment begins to nag your mind. You blurt it out before you can think about how pathetic you sound.

“Can I have another kiss, Coryo?”

The next few moments were a blur. Lips on lips. Clumsily tongues meeting each other and whining into each other's mouths. You were shamelessly grinding on Coryo's lap as your lips continued to stay locked with his. “I want you so bad,” you admit as you feel his cock harden underneath you.

“Since the academy,” you whispered against his lips, a moan escaping your lips when he held your hips and began to guide them to grind on his completely hard bulge.

“Oh, yeah?” He mocks, “It's pretty fucking obvious.” He choked off a groan coming out of his mouth, “You're willing to let go of the fact that I am a murderer, huh?” You let out a whimper as he mentioned that. But both of you knew the answer to that, a part of you knew what kind of predator he was. Ever since you knew about how he killed a tribute, you just called it. It never mattered to you how horrible he could be or in this case, is.

“Yes, yes,” you moan into his mouth. Was it an answer or a mere whine about how perfect the friction felt against your pantie-soaked pussy? You didn't know but Coriolanus thought of it as the former. “You gonna be my girl, then? A capitol princess being a peacekeepers’ doll to fuck,” he whispered, his tongue licking a strip of skin on your neck.

You moan as his teeth begin to harshly assault your skin, covering your neck with marks. “Yes,” you gasp, “as long as it's you.” God, how much more pathetic could you be? But it didn't matter, it got him higher and fed his ego after everything that had happened. He loved it and perhaps, he could grow to love you.

Not in the way, Coryo loved Lucy Gray but in the way Snow would love his First Lady.

Your hands tug off his wet t-shirt and throw it on the floor. His hands do the same with your peacekeeper's uniform. He grabs your hips, squeezing the plump of flesh there, his mouth panting into you and he looks at you with dilated eyes.

Time seems to have slowed down as you touch his dog tag, your fingers tracing the name carved into the metal. “I want this. You, right now, right here,” you whispered like it was the biggest secret of your life. “Do you?” You ask as your hands go lower to fiddle with the zipper of his pants.

He doesn't give you a verbal answer, only pulling you into another kiss with his fingers woven into your hair in a fist as his free hand goes down below to free his cock from the confines of his trousers.

You grip his length, stroking it and squeezing out pearly pre-cum from the tip. You savor the deep groan that leaves his lips. “Fuck… just like that, doll,” he instructed and you obey. Your strokes get faster and his pre becomes natural lube as you continue. He lets out a hiss when you twist your wrist and his hand snares around your wrist. “Wanna cum in your cunt first,” he said, breathless from the ecstasy of having your hands on him.

Within moments the remaining clothes on both of you were scattered around the cabin. You moan into his mouth, your fingers desperately clawing at his shoulders as you begin to grind your soaking wet pussy against his hard cock. You gasp, elated by how your folds pressed against his length, his cockhead being teased by your slit but unable to breach the threshold.

The kisses you shared with him were sloppy. Saliva coating his chin as neither of you was willing to separate your lips for a single unnecessary moment. You knew your lips would hurt by the end of this, that they were swollen and the inside of it bleeding because of how insistently his teeth loved to bite your lower lip. He was no better either. You tasted more blood from the kisses now than anything, and it didn't matter to you because somehow the salty, rusty taste felt like just him.

You let out a sound unfitting of a Capitol-raised woman when his cockhead slips inside your gummy walls. His tip now profusely leaks pre-cum inside your gummy walls. You pulled back, biting your lower lip to stop the whimper as you feel his cockhead stretching out your virgin walls.

“That's it, dove,” he lets out, all needy and heated. His hands squeeze your hips to be encouraging as you let yourself down on his cock slowly. “Take it all in. You can do it, doll,” he whispered, as his eyes were down looking at his length entering you, being surrounded by the wicked, addicting warmth of your tight cunt.

“I can?” You let out a whine, as the pain bleeds into the pleasure, the ratio of it throwing you off the dizzy full lust. He hums in encouragement as you finally fill yourself with his dick to the hilt. Your slick walls pulsate around his length.

“Atta girl,” he smiles at you, his eyes brightening up from how well you took him and without any complaints whatsoever. “That's a good slut,” he whispered and smirked when he felt your walls clench around him deliciously.

You tried to move your hips but gave up when the burn made your eyes water. He coos at you encouragingly, telling you to adjust to his girth first. He wasn't going to rut into you like a dog, you're a Capitol girl, not a district whore. He wasn't going to disrespect you like that, no matter how much he wanted you to begin rolling your hips.

So your lips latch onto his neck, while your arms are around him and your legs around his waist. You were clinging to him, as if afraid that if you ease up in your grip he will fade away from your life, from this moment and your reality together. The smell of sex and sweat begins to become stronger than the smell of gunpowder as you continue to give him hickeys in various places on his skin.

Coriolanus doesn't complain that you're marking him like this, not when he's doing the same task with his tongue tracing the love bites his teeth left. And you suspect he rather enjoys when you bite, as his cock twitches whenever your teeth dig into his flesh as if you're eating and your wet tongue licks over the bite as if you're tasting the flavor of his skin.

When you're finally comfortable with his cock being inside the most intimate part of you. You slowly but surely begin to make small, shallow thrusts that have you gasping, your eyes rolling back with how good it feels already because he was fucking into your g-spot with every roll of your hips. The thrusts were teasing, it had him groaning praises of you being a good girl and his hold tightening over your hips, surely leaving bruises.

You begin to relish the feeling of being stuffed, his cockhead kissing your cervix when you get the angle just right. Your folds coat him with your creamy juices, a ring of white forming on his base with how wet you were. Slowly but surely the pleasure begins to build up, your nails digging into his shoulders as you start to put up force with the way you rock back and forth on his cock.

You pant into his mouth, your lips letting out sharp moans when his dick strokes your walls just right. He lets you control the pace, his mouth busy latching onto your nipple to suck. His tongue swirls around the bud, hardening it inside his mouth and he nips your nipple just to have you jolt from the bite and squeeze down on his cock.

One of his hands now kneads the other breast he wasn't giving much attention to, his fingers rolling the nipple, pinching the bud, and playing with it. His other hand goes between your bodies and finds your clit. You soon realize he was working with a pattern that was driving you insane, turning your cunt into a hotter slicker mess.

When he swirled his tongue around your nipple, his fingers did roll the other bud. Meanwhile, his thumb would drive small, rapid circles onto your swollen bundle of nerves. When he bit into your nipple, his fingers pinched your clit making you gasp with thunderous pleasure filling your veins.

He continues at this and tension begins to build up in your tummy. You close your eyes as animalistic instincts begin to take over your body. The need to cum overrides everything else as you begin to roll your hips faster and harder. Desperate to cum around his cock for the first time of many times in your life. He feels the same way because he encourages you with his hips bucking into you, thrusting perfectly inside of your slick walls.

“So close, Coryo!” You moan, your nails leaving red lines in their path on his shoulders. He latches off your breasts to whisper, “Cum then, my slut. Let me feel you milk my cock like a good cockwhore would.” You let out a louder moan at his words. His condescending tone snaps the tension that had formed in your tummy, you begin to cum.

Your pussy spasming around his cock, triggering his orgasm. He empties his balls inside of you without any hesitation, filling you up with his thick, hot cum. “That's a good girl. Look how well you took me. Look at the cum leaking out, dove,” his tone teasing, like many times he has teased in classes but the context of this was entirely different.

You look down, your pussy clenching around his cock again when you see his seed ooze out of you. Your body slumps into him, tired from all of this. Both mentally and physically. The storm was still going on. You lay in his arms, his cum now coating the insides of your thighs.

“You're smarter than Lucy Gray,” he said, “I pray you know better than to run. I won't miss the next time.”

You shake your head, trying to hide the smile forming on your face. Others would have run from his words, anyone sane would. Lucy Gray did after all. But you were just you.

“If I wanted to run, I wouldn't have found you in the first place,” you whispered, sealing your words with a soft kiss on his lips.

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[some-bunniii]

ayo some luci angst just popped into my head, like….

imagine Lucifer falling in love with an employee at the hotel but their soul is owned by alastor and like?? luci is not happy about that.

*slams google docs on table, opens random 1.2k wrd snippet #234* behold…

x: GN!reader, no use of y/n

EDIT: read the full fic here

“What is this?” 

Lucifer had asked suddenly, his pupils dilated, trained on something against your throat. 

You sat on the edge of your bed, thumbs rubbing together in a soothing motion as you watched him move closer to you. Gulping, you parted your lips to speak.

You didn’t get a chance to say anything, before his hand gingerly lifted towards you. His nail grazed against your collarbone, and heat blossomed underneath your skin from his touch. 

‘Please, just stop here,’ you silently begged, eyes squeezing shut as his finger rested against your figure, ‘don’t ruin this moment by digging any farther.’

Your reaction only spurred him, however. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, his pupils thin slits now as he watched you.

Slowly, his finger trailed upward, skin brushing softly against yours as he traced the invisible force only a powerful demon could see. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, every movement of his only quickening its pace. 

Until his hand stopped, right in the middle of your neck, and you felt a sizzling against your skin. The heat was becoming too much, and you wanted to pull away from his touch. You didn’t, instead, you tensed, deathly still before him.

A soft golden light illuminated from Lucifer’s palm, as his fingers wrapped around an invisible object. A shadow formed in his grip, and he tugged at it, that glow in his palm growing stronger.

Backing away, he pulled a long, thin chain from your figure, it snaked from your throat as it followed his grasp.

He yanked it harshly, as if trying to free you of a parasite that found a home deep in your bones. But it only dragged across the floor, refusing to dislodge itself from your body.

A thick, metal collar snuggly encompassed your throat. The chain locked tightly against it, a vivid reminder of your poor decisions.

Lucifer’s palm slid across the cold, metal links. Eldritch magic seeped from its form in the shroud of thick fog. Archaic symbols danced at the edge of your vision as its glow illuminated Lucifer’s unreadable expression.

The chain was a sickly green, its harsh glow an annoyance to his eyes. It was embedded with a dark, chilling magic. Whispers of untold horrors and ancient curses coiling around you, promises of a fate worse than death. 

Lucifer could practically smell it, that red demon's aura as it encircled around your frame. A twisted signature, practically scrawled across your forehead like a stamp of ownership.

Oh, the audacity of a person to take such a kind, selfless soul and rip it away from its owner. 

You weren’t some dog to be beckoned at the flick of a wrist. You were so much more than that, you deserved so much more than that. 

Yet here you were, the clasp around your neck like a shadowed hand, softly squeezing the life out of your eyes. He could see it, clear as day.

Small, white horns protruded from his head as he clenched the chain tighter. He tugged it once, twice, as if testing its durability. You leaned back slightly, the chain becoming taught between the two of you.

That collar around your throat kept you locked in place, as you watched him turn the chain in his hands. For a moment, Lucifer’s figure melded into the horrid shadow of your owner, and your eyes widened in fear at your delusion.

You could see it, feel it. Your stomach brushing the stained carpet beneath you with that haunting figure bent in a sickly, twisted angle in front you. That chain wrapped around the radio demon’s hand as he threatened you with terrible acts if you failed to stay in line.

Seeing your face contort into pained anguish only caused Lucifer to bare his teeth slightly, the sharp edges glinting in the light.

Seeing it so deeply entwined with your very being only further spurred the king’s anger. It seeped quietly from him, his grip tight against the chains as if trying to snap them with his bare hands.

“Who did this?” He hissed, his gaze boring into yours. He wanted to hear you say that demon’s name, wanted to hear you confirm the truth that was so obvious in front of him. 

You knew he wasn’t angry at you, but still you bowed your head slightly. Averting your gaze from his pleading eyes, shame slowly clawing at your stomach. For a moment, you felt like throwing up. Wanting to rid yourself of the terrible feeling that was seeping into your skin.

You felt like crying, or throwing yourself into his arms. Wanting to melt into his hold, and be told again and again that everything would be alright. That the most powerful man in hell would come to your rescue.

But, deals that bartered in souls are a much more difficult magic to conquer.

Fighting the urge to collapse into his embrace, you steeled yourself. Hands planted against your knees, back straight in a pathetic attempt to have some kind of power in this moment. 

Your eyes sullenly traced across the harsh links of the chain, its form all too familiar by now. Yet, it still caused such grief in your bones no matter how many times you looked upon it over the years.

Slowly, your eyes shifted to meet his gaze. Your lips curved into a frown at his expression, and your predicament.

How were you supposed to tell the love of your life your soul didn’t belong to you? That you were trapped in a deal of your own making? 

Curse that little fine line in your deal that kept your mouth sealed shut, that prevented you from uttering his name.

“I-I..” You desperately tried to speak, to tell him the truth, but that invisible hand that pulled at your tongue forced your silence. Tears pricked at your eyes, the desperation in them evident as your attempts to explain only died behind those pretty lips of yours.

As your mouth shut in frustration, Lucifer’s anger only heightened. His eyes flared into a blood-red glow, a harsh change from that soft yellow radiance you often found yourself lost in.

He pivoted harshly away, his voice contorting into a snarl as he stalked out of the room. His overcoat appeared atop his shoulders, and it swished behind him as he moved. 

Lucifer’s thoughts were too tangled with the images of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

The tears that had threatened to spill finally rolled down your cheeks, your lip quivering as your eyes lingered on the doorway he had just exited. His thoughts too mangled with the image of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

Placing your face into your hands, you sobbed quietly. 

Oh, how that regret had begun to consume you as you continued to wallow in your self-pity. 

Regret, for thinking that giving away your soul was a simple feat. That somehow, you’d still be happy after the fact. 

Regret, for falling in love when you knew the deal that kept you to that deer demon’s side would never allow you to enjoy such a fleeting emotion. No matter how hard you clawed to Lucifer’s soft embrace, that chain would always be there to drag you back. 

Those soft whispers of affections, of promises you couldn’t keep. Knowing, one day, that constant-smiling demon could play his little games and tear you away from your lover’s hold forever.

Oh, what a lovestruck idiot you are. 

thoughts?? this is just an interesting concept to me and i rlly wanted to share it with you guys! i woke up at like 4:30 am today and was like ‘what if..’ and this is what came of it haha

and mmm alastor makes a such a good bad guy too depending on the context x)

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　EMERGENCY CONTACT

spencer reid x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N is between life and death during a case, and the team needs to call her emergency contact, but she doesn't have one. Not until now.

WARNING: Use of gun, blood, getting shot, pain, usual CM violence (but not too violent).

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The evening was heavy with anticipation as Y/N and Morgan made their way through the dilapidated house. The floorboards creaked under their weight, and the air was thick with dust and tension. They moved cautiously, guns drawn, every sense on high alert.

The house, an old Victorian relic on the outskirts of town, was supposed to be abandoned, but they knew better. The unsub they were hunting had been using it as his hideout, his lair.

It was dark. Only the faint glow from a few broken windows offered any light. Shadows clung to the corners, making the already narrow hallways feel like tunnels into oblivion.

Morgan's eyes flicked over to Y/N as they moved silently down the hall. Her jaw was set in a hard line, her eyes scanning every inch of the space before them. They’d been partners long enough that he could read the tension in her posture, the way her fingers gripped her gun just a little tighter than usual. He gave her a slight nod, a silent assurance that they were in this together. Y/N returned the nod, her lips pressed into a thin line. They both knew what was at stake.

As they approached the doorway, leading to what looked like a kitchen, Morgan gestured for Y/N to take the lead, deciding to look into the hallway. She nodded and moved forward, peeking around the corner. Her heart pounded in her chest, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Everything was eerily quiet. The kind of quiet that screamed trouble. She took a cautious step into the room, her gun leading the way, eyes darting to every possible hiding spot.

The silence was broken by the faintest creak behind her. Before she could react, a figure lunged from the shadows, catching her off guard. Y/N whipped around, finger already on the trigger. In her haste, she fired a shot into the darkness, the bullet embedding itself harmlessly into a corner.

The sound of the gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space, and in that split second of chaos, the unsub took advantage. He moved like a snake, slithering out of the shadows, his hand shooting out to grab Y/N’s gun. His grip was iron-clad, and he twisted her arm, forcing her to drop her weapon.

"Y/N!" Morgan's voice came loudly from a closer room, the sound of his steps heavy and quick approached where the one from her gun came.

Y/N barely had time to register what was happening before she felt the cold, unforgiving metal of her own gun pressed against her temple. Her breath hitched, her heart racing as she looked into the eyes of the unsub. They were wild, manic, and pupils dilated with a dangerous mix of adrenaline and rage. His face was contorted into a sneer, lips pulled back to reveal yellowing teeth.

"Morgan!" Y/N called out, her voice steady but with a layer of fear and frustration. She knew he was right behind her, and sure enough, within seconds, Morgan burst into the room, his gun trained on the unsub. His dark eyes were fierce, anger simmering just beneath the surface as he took in the scene before him.

"Put the gun down and let her go. Now." Morgan commanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl. He took a step forward, his gun unwavering, trained directly on the unsub’s head.

The unsub’s grip on Y/N tightened, his fingers digging into her skin. He pressed the barrel of the gun harder against her temple, causing her to wince.

"Back off, or I’ll blow her brains out!" He screamed, his voice cracking with desperation. His eyes darted around the room, wild and erratic, as if searching for an escape. But there was none. He was cornered, and he knew it. "You petty agents have destroyed all my plans, and now one of you will have to pay for it."

Morgan’s heart pounded, his mind racing. He could see Y/N’s fear, her eyes wide, her breathing shallow. He needed to calm the unsub down to de-escalate the situation.

"Hey, hey." He said, his tone softening just a fraction, trying to project calm. "You don’t want to do this. Just let her go, and we can talk about this. We’ll figure it out. You don’t have to hurt anyone else."

The unsub laughed, a harsh, bitter sound.

"You think I’m stupid?" He spat, his voice dripping with venom. "I let her go, you’ll just shoot me! I’m not going to jail! I’m not going back there!" His hand trembled, and Y/N felt the gun shake against her temple, pressing her lips in a thin line.

Morgan clenched his jaw, his eyes flicking between the unsub and Y/N. He could see the terror in her eyes, the way she was trying to stay calm, to not make any sudden movements.

"Nobody has to go to jail." Morgan said, trying to keep his voice steady, soothing. "We can figure something out. Just let her go, okay? Let’s talk about this."

The unsub was breathing hard, his chest heaving. His eyes were darting around the room, looking for something that he could do or use. Morgan could see the panic setting in, the way his grip on Y/N tightened. This was a man on the edge, teetering on the brink of madness.

"Don’t come any closer!" The unsub yelled, his voice cracking. "I swear to God, I’ll shoot her!" His hand twitched, his finger hovering over the trigger.

"Okay, okay." Morgan said quickly, taking a small step back, raising his hands slightly to show he wasn’t a threat. "I’m not moving. Just... take it easy, alright? We don’t want anyone to get hurt."

Y/N’s heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. She could feel the unsub’s breath on her neck, hot and fast. She knew she had to do something, anything, to distract him, to give Morgan a chance.

"You don’t have to do this." She said softly, trying to keep her voice calm. "Please. Just let me go. We can help you. Whatever it is, I can help."

The unsub’s eyes snapped to hers, his face twisting into a snarl.

"Shut up!" He screamed, his voice breaking. "Just shut up, you bitch!" His hand shook, and Y/N could feel the gun pressing harder against her skin, her eyes closing tightly with the feeling.

Morgan saw the movement, saw the unsub’s finger twitching on the trigger, and his heart lurched.

"Don’t!" He shouted, taking a step forward. "Don’t do it!"

The unsub’s eyes were wild, his grip on Y/N tightening as he shouted back.

"Stay back! I’ll do it! I’ll shoot her!"

It all happened so fast. One moment, they were yelling, voices overlapping in a desperate cacophony, and the next, there was a deafening bang. Y/N felt a searing pain in her right shoulder, too close to her neck, the force of the bullet knocking her off balance.

A scream tore from her throat as she crumpled to the ground, her vision blurring with tears. The pain was excruciating, a white-hot agony that radiated through her entire body.

She had forgotten how much a gunshot hurt.

In that split second, Morgan’s instincts kicked in. He raised his gun and fired three times. The bullets hit its marks, striking the unsub in the head. The force of the shot sent him reeling backward, his grip on the gun slackening. He hit the ground with a dull thud, blood pooling beneath his head, his eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling.

The unsub’s lower body fell against Y/N, pressing her more to the ground. She let out a choked sob, her hands clutching at her bleeding shoulder. Morgan was at her side in an instant, shoving the unsub’s body away and pressing his hands to her wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

"Y/N, stay with me." Morgan said, his voice shaking, his hands slick with her blood. “Come on, mama, stay with me. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to get you out of here." His heart was pounding, fear clawing at his chest as he looked down at her pale face, her eyes fluttering closed.

His hands were slick with Y/N's blood, his mind racing as he tried to maintain pressure on her wound. Her skin was pale, her breaths coming in ragged, uneven gasps. Each second felt like an eternity, stretching out in a nightmarish haze. He could feel her slipping away, and the thought clawed at his heart, sending a chill of dread through him. He needed help, and he needed it now.

He reached up with one hand, pressing the button on his earpiece, his voice urgent and strained.

"This is Agent Derek Morgan! We have an agent down! Y/N’s been shot, I repeat, Y/N’s been shot! I need paramedics at our location, now!" His voice cracked, the fear breaking through his usually calm, composed demeanor.

There was a crackle of static in his ear, then Hotch’s voice came through, sharp and controlled.

"Morgan, what’s her status?"

Morgan looked down at Y/N, her eyes fluttering as she fought to stay conscious.

"It’s bad, Hotch. She’s been shot in the shoulder, too close to her neck, and she’s losing a lot of blood. We need those paramedics." His voice broke on the last word, the helplessness clawing at him. "The unsub is dead..."

"Hold on, Morgan, they’re on their way." Hotch said, his voice a calming presence even over the comms. "Keep her conscious if you can."

Morgan nodded, even though Hotch couldn’t see him.

"You hear that, Y/N? You stay with me, okay? Don’t you close your eyes. Help is coming." He squeezed her hand, willing her to hold on.

Y/N’s eyes flickered open, pain clouding her vision.

"Morgan... it hurts... like a bitch." She whispered, her voice weak, barely more than a breath.

"I know, sweetheart, I know." Morgan said, his heart breaking at the pain in her voice. "Just hang on a little longer. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you out of here." He kept his hands pressed against her wound, feeling the warmth of her blood seeping through his fingers, his own heart beating wildly in his chest.

Minutes stretched on like hours, but finally, the distant wail of sirens reached Morgan’s ears. He breathed a sigh of relief as the sound grew louder, closer.

The paramedics burst into the room before the cops - who ran directly to the unsub's dead body -, their faces a mix of professionalism and urgency. They moved quickly, efficiently, setting up a gurney and pushing Morgan aside to assess Y/N’s condition.

"She’s been shot in the shoulder." Morgan said, his voice tight with anxiety. "She’s lost a lot of blood."

One of the paramedics nodded, already working to stem the bleeding.

"We’ll take it from here, Agent. You did good."

Morgan stepped back, his hands stained red, watching as they worked. His heart pounded in his chest, a drumbeat of fear. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Hotch, his expression grim but steady.

"The rest of the team is on their way." Hotch said quietly. "You did everything you could, Morgan."

Morgan nodded, his throat tight. He wanted to believe Hotch, but the sight of Y/N lying on the floor, her life seeping out of her with every passing second, was almost too much to bear.

The sound of hurried footsteps filled the air as the rest of the team arrived. Emily, Rossi, and Reid rushed into the room, their faces masks of shock and concern. Reid’s eyes locked onto Y/N, and in an instant, his expression changed from one of worry to one of anger.

"What the hell happened?" Reid demanded, his voice a harsh, angry whisper. His eyes were blazing, fists clenched at his sides. He looked from Y/N to Morgan, fury and fear mingling in his gaze. "How could you let this happen?"

Morgan’s jaw tightened, guilt and frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"Reid, it was-"

"You were supposed to protect her!" Reid shouted, taking a step toward Morgan, his face a mask of barely contained rage. "How could you let her get hurt?"

Morgan’s eyes flashed with his own anger, his voice rising to meet Reid’s.

"You think I wanted this? You think I’m not tearing myself apart over what happened? I was right here, Reid! I did everything I could!"

"Enough!" Emily’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and commanding. She stepped between them, her eyes darting between Reid and Morgan. "This isn’t helping anyone. We need to focus on Y/N right now. Fighting like teenagers isn’t going to change what happened."

Reid’s chest heaved, his fists still clenched. He looked from Morgan to Y/N, his anger melting into something softer, more vulnerable. The pain in his eyes was palpable, his hands shaking as he fought to control his emotions.

"Hotch, we need to call her emergency contact. They need to know and be here for whatever they will have to do to keep her alive." Rossi's voice echoed for the first time, his eyes focused entirely on Y/N's form.

Hotch’s brows furrowed, a distant look crossing his face as he tried to recall the information. He shook his head slowly, his voice heavy.

"Y/N doesn’t have an emergency contact listed in her files."

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Reid’s face fell, the anger replaced by a deep, aching sadness. He knew what it was like to not have an emergency contact, to not have anyone close enough that you could count on when, well, an emergency happens.

"No..." He whispered, almost to himself. "No, that can’t be..."

He looked at Y/N, her face pale and still, and something inside him snapped. Without thinking, he spoke again, his voice firm, resolute.

"I’ll be her emergency contact." He turned to Hotch, his eyes burning with determination. "Isn’t that possible? I can do that, right?"

Hotch hesitated, knowing the protocols, the paperwork, and the formalities that were required. But as he looked into Reid’s eyes, he knew there was no question. The team was family, and in moments like this, family came first. He nodded slowly, his voice quiet but firm.

"Yes, Reid. You can be her emergency contact. For now."

Relief washed over Reid, his shoulders sagging. He turned back to Y/N, moving to her side as the paramedics lifted her onto the gurney. He reached out, taking her hand, squeezing it gently.

"I’m right here, Y/N." He whispered, his voice trembling. "I’m not going anywhere."

The paramedics nodded to Reid, indicating he could ride with them. Reid climbed into the back of the ambulance, never letting go of Y/N’s hand, his heart breaking at the sight of her so fragile, so still. The ambulance doors closed, and within seconds, they were speeding toward the hospital, sirens blaring.

As the ambulance sped away, Morgan stood in the doorway, his eyes fixed on the disappearing vehicle, his hands still stained with Y/N’s blood. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Hotch, his expression somber.

"We’ll meet them at the hospital." Hotch said quietly. "She’s going to need all of us."

Morgan nodded, his heart heavy with guilt and fear.

"I should have made more." He said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Hotch squeezed his shoulder, a rare show of comfort.

"You did everything you could, Morgan. Now we have to hope she pulls through."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound that filled the room, a constant reminder that Y/N was alive, stable, and recovering. The sterile scent of the hospital lingered in the air, mingling with the soft hum of the fluorescent lights overhead.

Spencer sat on the small couch beside Y/N’s bed, his lanky form folded into the uncomfortable seat, eyes fixed on her pale face. He hadn’t moved in hours, not since they’d brought her out of surgery and told him she would be okay.

His heart had been in his throat then, relief flooding his system, washing over him in waves so strong he’d almost collapsed. But now, the adrenaline had worn off, leaving him exhausted, drained, his mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions. He hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept, hadn’t even gotten up to go to the bathroom. He couldn’t bring himself to leave her side, not even for a second. His hands rested on his knees, fingers interlaced, his knuckles white with the tension he held.

He watched her, every shallow breath she took a lifeline for him. The rise and fall of her chest, the flutter of her eyelids; each small movement was a sign that she was still there, still fighting. He’d replayed the events of the day over and over in his mind, guilt gnawing at him for not being there, for not protecting her, even though he knew, logically, that there was nothing he could have done. But logic didn’t soothe the ache in his heart, the fear that had wrapped itself around his soul, squeezing tight.

A soft murmur broke through his thoughts, a faint sound that made his heart leap into his throat. His eyes snapped to Y/N’s face, and he saw her eyelids fluttering, her fingers twitching against the white sheets. He was on his feet in an instant, moving to her side, his hand reaching out to take hers gently.

"Y/N?" he whispered, his voice soft, trembling with the weight of his emotions. "Hey, can you hear me?"

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, the bright light of the hospital room making her squint. She blinked slowly, her vision blurry, disoriented, but as her eyes focused, they found Reid’s face, his wide puppy eyes filled with worry and relief. A small, tired smile tugged at her lips, her voice hoarse as she spoke.

"Spence..."

Relief washed over Reid, his chest aching with it. He squeezed her hand gently, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Yeah, I’m here." He said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. "How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

Y/N swallowed, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at the stitches in her shoulder.

"A little." She admitted, her voice weak but steady. "But it’s manageable. I’m okay, Spencer. I’m alive."

Spencer nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"You scared me, Y/N." He said, his voice thick with emotion. "When I heard you’d been shot... I thought..." He trailed off, his throat closing up at the memory, the fear that had gripped him so tightly.

Y/N’s fingers tightened around his, her thumb brushing against his skin in a comforting gesture.

"I’m sorry." She whispered. "I didn’t mean to scare you. It just... happened so fast... The unsub, is he-"

Reid nodded, confirming her unfinished question - yes, he's dead -, his brow furrowing as he observed her, concern etching lines into his face.

"And mentally? How are you holding up?" He asked, his voice gentle, but with the unmistakable edge of a profiler. "I mean, after everything you went through today..."

Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes closing for a moment as she processed his question.

"I’m okay." She said slowly, her voice soft but firm. "It was terrifying, but... I'm alright."

"Are you sure?" He asked again, his eyes focused on hers, as if he was reading into her mind. "You know, it’s normal to experience symptoms of PTSD after a traumatic event like this." He continued after noticing how she hesitated to answer his question, his voice taking on that familiar tone of reciting facts. "Victims can often experience flashbacks, anxiety, depression... Did you know that the amygdala can become hyperactive, causing an exaggerated response to stressors? It’s important to talk about what happened to process it. Avoidance can actually worsen symptoms, so facing the trauma head-on is usually the best course of action..."

Y/N listened quietly, her eyes softening as she watched him talk. His words were a comfort, his knowledge a balm to her frayed nerves. She knew this side of Spencer, the need to rationalize, to explain, to wrap his mind around every detail until it made sense. It was one of the things she loved most about him. She didn’t interrupt - she never did -, letting him talk, his voice soothing her more than anything else could.

When he finally paused, taking a breath, she smiled at him, squeezing his hand.

"Spence..." She said softly, her voice pulling him from his thoughts. He blinked, focusing on her, his expression anxious. "I’m really okay. I promise that if I go through any of these things you listed, I will let you know. Okay?" She assured him, her smile warm despite the pain in her side. "Thank you for being here."

Reid’s eyes softened, his grip on her hand tightening slightly.

"I wouldn’t be anywhere else." He said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. He hesitated, his eyes flickering with uncertainty before he continued. "I, um... I told Hotch I’d be your emergency contact." He said, his voice tentative, as if he was afraid of her reaction. "I know it’s not official. There’s paperwork and procedures, but... I just... I couldn’t let you be alone."

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, her brows drawing together as she looked at him.

"You... did that for me?" She asked, her voice soft, touched.

Reid nodded, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"I... I didn’t want you to be alone." He repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I care about you, Y/N. A lot. More than I probably should. And when I thought I might lose you today... I realized that I can’t... I can’t hide it anymore-"

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening as she looked at him.

"Spencer..." She whispered, interrupting him, her voice filled with surprise.

Reid swallowed, his eyes dropping to their joined hands, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin.

"I’m in love with you, you know?" He said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "I’ve been in love with you for so long, and I was too scared to tell you. But seeing you lying there, thinking I might never get the chance to say it... I had to tell you."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart swelling with emotion. She could see the fear in his eyes, the vulnerability, the raw honesty of his confession.

"And it's... it's totally okay if you don't feel the same, I would totally understand it-" He started rumbling desperately after a long minute of silence.

Without a word, she reached up with her hand from her unharmed arm, her fingers curling into the fabric of his dark tie. She tugged him down, her movements slow and careful, mindful of the pain in her other shoulder.

Spencer’s eyes widened, his breath hitching as he let himself lean down, shutting up instantly, his face inches from hers. Y/N’s lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes shining with life.

"I love you too, Spence." She whispered, her voice filled with sincerity.

Before he could respond, she pulled him closer, her lips pressing against his in a gentle, tender kiss. It was soft, hesitant, but filled with all the emotions they had kept hidden for so long. Spencer’s heart raced, his eyes fluttering closed as he kissed her back, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb caressing her soft skin.

The kiss was everything he had ever dreamed of. Her lips were so soft and plump against his own, moving slowly in a perfect dance, her uncontrollable breathing hitting his face as a gentle and warm welcome.

As they pulled away, their foreheads resting together, Spencer’s heart felt lighter than it had in years. He had almost lost her, but now, as he looked into her eyes, he knew he would never let her go.

"I think you owe me a date now." Y/N whispered, a small smile stretching across her lips.

"Of... of course! As soon as we get out of here, I'll take you on as many dates as you want." Spencer nodded frantically, the tip of his nose hitting hers with his movements while his eyes traveled around her face, memorizing all the details he could finally see up close before lowering his head, meeting her lips with his own again.

[party-snake]

No refunds~

Sebastian x Fem! Reader

Minors DNI, This one's long but it does have smut in it. :)

Tw: Smut (obvi), crying, praise, slight degrading, cockwarming

❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀

Being forced to kill The Saboteur was not the situation you would expect to find yourself in. To put it simply, Sebastian was a huge pain in the ass for everyone at Urbanshade. From causing the lockdown to releasing all those monsters. That's why you were sent down to kill him.

The higher ups had disguised you as a prisoner, yearning for her freedom. They said you were a convincing actor, thus was the perfect woman for the job. Only armed with a gun, you made your way through the facility.

'This thing can't be that hard to kill.' You made your way through the doors, each step nervous. Strangely, no monsters appeared to try and kill you. Not even those wall dwellers the prisoners described. To be honest, you kinda felt bad for them.

Trapped in an eternal damnation, dying an infinite number of times before they succeeded. Seemed like hell to you. And if you truely being honest, you didn't wanna kill Sebastian either. An innocent guy convicted and experimented on. You had to find a way out of this.

You approached door '053' sliding the thin blue keycard into the slot. It slid open with a beep, and a light illuminated a small vent on the wall. Walking a few steps in, it flew open and slid into the abyss. "Stranger, over here." A deep voice called out to you. This had to be your target.

Army crawling your way through the vent was uncomfortable to say the least. It made you claustrophobic with all the dust. It obviously hadn't been cleaned in a while. You crawled out the other side a got up, coughing and dusting off your pants.

"Ah, fresh meat. Welcome! My name is Sebastian. Don't worry i'm not going to hurt you." He flicked on his angler light and smiled down at you, clasping his hands together. "I'm here to help you acutally. I've set up a shop for you. You can just pick the items off my tail." He pointed to the large sacks strapped to his snake tail, "As long as you have enough data of course."

You unzipped your suit silently and pulled out a small file. He smile never fading. You looked down and flipped it open, holding it up so both the page and Sebastian were visible. Perfect match. You put the file back.

You sigh and grap at your gun holster, slipping the weapon out of it's holder and aiming right between his eyes. But he didn't flinch. "No need to be hostile friend. I'm here to help." Your hands seemed shakey, mostly from being nervous. "I'm sorry, I have to do this. They're making me."

He looked down at the gun. "Hm, those bastards finally want me dead, hm?" You nod slowly. "Let me guess," He clears his throat and says in his best announcer voice, "Failure to terminate the target will result in immediate execution. Correct?" You nod again, your shakey hands make the gun feel like it's made of lead.

"You can put that down. It's not going to do much." He leans down and moves your aim with a hand. You flinch, closing your eyes. "I'm not going to kill you. And you don't want to kill me, right?" You open your eyes and meet his. "No..." You mumble.

He chuckles, "No need to be so scared hun. I'm not going to hurt you." You lower the gun and put it back in it's holster. "There we go." Two hands wrap around your waist and lift you up, bringing you on his lap. He gently rubs your back, the action soothing you more than you care to admit.

You sniffle quietly as tears start coming. And once they come, they don't stop. You lean into his chest and just sob. "I'm just... so scared." You whimper out. He nods, listening silently. "I-I don't want to die. But I don't want to kill you either." He removes your diving kit, and uses a screw driver to deactivate your RGP device. A hand comes to hold you against his chest as he undos his belts holding his supplies.

"I'll find a way for us to survive. I promise. But you'll have to wait. Those assholes can't kill you." He holds the device in a claw and smirks. You return his smirk with a soft smile. His other hand comes up and wipes your tears away. "There's just one thing you have to do for me. Okay?" You nod.

"I need supplies to sell to prisoners. However it is... difficult, to get those supplies because of my size. I would like you to go out and collect those items for me." He then holds your chin in his hand. "If your lucky, you may get a reward." Blush creeps up your cheeks from you shoulders, and you look away.

"What about the monsters?" He frowns lightly "They don't attack me because I freed them. It doesn't help that your wearing a prison uniform." He taps a claw on his chin in thought. "How about you show them the card I used? I still have it." His hand digs into his coat pocket and fishes out the card. "They will think that you helped. And thus won't kill you. Sound fair?"

You stare at the keycard and nod. "Okay." You swing your legs over and hop of him. "Go get em' tiger." He chuckles. You smile and crawl out of the vent. Standing back up and looking at the keycard, you notice little specs of blood overlaying the gold. You grimice and wipe of the blood with your suit.

'What the hell happened here?'

Your suit allowed you to carry a multitude of stuff without slowing your movements. Your footsteps echo around the hall as you make your way back to Sebastian. The door opens and then you see it. A shark with hundreds of green eyes. It's pull is intoxicating, your head seems to move on it's own, forcing you to look at the shark and you panic.

The card. The card! You fumble for it, putting a hand over your eyes. The shark's smile is engraved in your brain. You fish in your pocket and pull it out, showing it to the shark. The pull stops as soon as it came.

Bit by bit, your hand comes away from your face. "Oh. I'm sorry. I thought you were human. I thought you were here to hurt me again." A honey sweet voice rings out from beyond the glass. You gasp lightly. "I would never hurt you." The shark's smile widens.

"I like you. You are like Sebastian. Sorry for trying to hurt you." It's eyes scan over your features. "It's okay. What's your name?" You smile at her. "My name? I don't know... The scientists call me Eyefestation. You can call me that." You nod. "Okay. Bye." She smiles and swims away.

A shiver runs up your spine as you continue staring out the glass. Shaking your head and slapping your cheeks, you continue on back to Sebastian. Door '052' greets you in red writing and you smile, oddly looking foward to seeing the fish again.

You army crawl your way in the vent again and stand up, looking at his cyan eyes in the dark. "Ah. Your back. I was beginning to think you'd died or something." He pulls on the angler light, and it flickers on. It casts his face in a pretty warm glow, showing off his dark freckles.

You were basically gawking at him, looking over his pretty face. "You gonna get staring at me or are you going to show me what you got?" He chuckles. You shake your head again and empty your pockets of supplies. He peers down, crossing his arms. "Hm. Pretty good." You look up at him expectingly. "What, you want your reward?" He smiles, showing off his teeth.

You blush and look away, nodding slightly. He laughs. "Of course." Playfully rolling his eyes -at least to the best of his ability-. He gathers the supplies and places them on the shelves on the side of the room. "All right then. On your knees for me." You're taken aback slightly, but do as your told. "Good girl." He slithers behind you, putting a hand to your back and forcing you on all fours.

"Heh, you like this don't you? Dirty girl." You blush. The sound of rustling comes from behind you as he takes off his coat, folding it and laying it down infront of you. Your fingers brush over the leather and you smile faintly. "May I?" You feel his claw tap your suit.

"Mhm." You nod. "Good girl." He uses and hand to hold you flush against his pelvis, unzipping your suit. A white shirt and a bra lay underneath. He makes quick work of those, slipping off your shirt and unclipping your bra swiftly. His touch returns to your chest and he pinches your nipple, massaging your breast in his hand.

"Good girl." You whimper quietly and hold onto his arm. The heat from your cheeks spreads to between your legs. He leans you down on your arms, hand exploring your ass and clothed slit. "I need your permission sweetheart." He traces the elastic of your pants.

"Please." You whimper pathetically. "Such a good girl, begging for me." He pulls down your pants and underwear, letting them pool at your knees. He spreads open your folds and chuckles. "You really like this, hm?" You hide your face in your arms.

He smiles and starts rubbing your clit, circling the sensitive bud with a claw. Pleasure racks up your spine and you whimper. His touch is rough, pushing you into the floor. He slowly enters your hole, your walls clenching around him. "S-Seb." He groans. "Yes?" He draws out the word. "You like this?" You huff and moan into his jacket. a small 'mhm' is heard, muffled by the leather.

A second claw joins the first, and your back arches, your toes curling. Another hand grabs your waist as he speeds up his pace slightly. A knot forms in your belly, your moans becoming more audible to him. His pinky reaches lower and rubs your clit again, bringing you to your climax.

This one felt different however, more wet. You suddenly realized you were squirting on him. "You really must've liked that. Heh." He brings his finger to his mouth and sucks your slick off of them. "Delicious." He groans. He pant into the jacket and grip it tightly. "Tired already? We're not done sweetheart. After all... You did so good for me~"

You huff and he chuckles. His first hand retreats and is replaced by a writhing tentacle. He ruts against your clit and you whine. You feel his hot breath on your neck as he leans down, "You gonna take it like a good girl?" You nod. His cock adjusts, circling your hole. "Good girls get rewards."

He suddenly thrusts into you and your eyes roll back into your head. He spears you open on him, his other hand wraps around your chest and brings you flush to him. "Be nice and loud for me, okay?" He hilts inside of you and you whine. He pulls out slowly, the emptiness inside you slowly being filled by him. Just him.

His other hands come to the floor and he roughly thrusts back in, the lewd slap of his pelvis on your ass making you blush more. "There we go. Just let go for me, hm?" You moan pathetically into his grip. His cock hitting all the right spots inside of you. "So tight for me. All for me." He growls in your ear and you cry out.

Your slick coats him, making it easier for him to slide in and out of you. He groans, claws scrapping against the floor. His tail slaps against wall with a large thump. You look over but he redirects your gaze, using a hand to make you look at him. "Eyes on me sweetheart." He huffs out.

His cocks spurts a bit and you clench around him. "So good. Such a good girl." He rambles and trails down to your neck, biting down hard with his sharp teeth. Your mouth drops open in a silent cry. He pushes you back onto him roughly, his cock reaching the spot that makes you scream. Your orgasm washings over you with deafening force.

"Hn. Almost there. You're doing so good." Overstimulation crashing down on you suddenly and you fall limp onto the floor. He growls and pushes into you, filling you completely. It's quiet for a bit, the only sound being your whimpers and pants mixed with his.

He shifts a bit and rests against the wall, lifting you up and twisting you around. You're set down on his cock again and moan. "Seb-" He leans down and kisses you, his tongue filling your mouth. You moan against him and he pulls away. "Shh darling, no need to say anything." His signature smirk returns and you smile.

"There we go. Good girl." Exhaustion creeps up on you, sleep pulling you deep into it's clutches. "Sleepy? Go ahead." He grabs his jacket and lays it over you, the warmth pulling you into a deep sleep.

Raugh. Finally done. Sorry if it's shit. I'm tired. :P



[bucketsofmonsters]

Deep Water - Part 1

cw: the ocean, talk of being drowned, water inhalation, more tags to be added as the story continues

merman x fem reader

Word count: 3k

read on ao3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

You peeked out a small porthole, a rarity on this kind of ship. You couldn’t decide if you were grateful for it or not as your stomach churned looking out at choppy waters. 

You’d never been particularly comfortable with the ocean. It wasn’t that you disliked it, far from it. You just had a healthy fear of it. 

Right now, it felt like anyone who didn’t was a fool. 

As you looked down at swirling black water, swearing you saw something snake around just far enough under the surface that you couldn’t make it out, that fear felt very reasonable. 

It wasn’t only fear that consumed you when you looked out at that churning water. There was awe in there too, as you looked at the seemingly infinite abyss below you. 

But not enough awe that you wouldn’t keep yourself as far away from it as you could. 

But that was the problem. Fate had thrusted you right into deep waters and you’d had no choice in the matter. 

So there you were, stowed away on a transport ship, tucked amongst boxes of spices and herbs and expensive teas that you’d never get to try. 

At least your hidden little corner smelled good, some of the herbal scents escaping their carefully packed boxes. 

You sat back down behind them, trying to put the thought of the turbulent waters under a few thin layers of wood out of your mind as the waves rocked you back and forth at a sickening pace, never quite stabilizing enough to be able to fall into a rhythm, refusing to be tuned out or ignored. 

You pulled your shawl tighter around you, though it was no use. The chill of the ship had long since set itself into your bones. 

You closed your eyes and tried to tell if it was raining or if it was just the darkness of the night blanketing the ocean. The sounds of the waves roared above anything else. You decided it wasn’t, more for your own peace of mind than anything. You didn’t need water coming at you from any more directions.

As you sat, curled up on the floor trying to focus on anything other than the deafening crashing of the waves, a new sound caught your attention. The door creaked open and as footsteps approached you, you held your breath. 

They’d caught you on an exhale and sooner than you would’ve liked, you had to sneak a tiny breath of air. Nothing noticeable, surely. Not through the sounds of crashing water. 

And then the ship slammed to the side, a massive wave sending the ground tilting under your feet.

The boxes slid as the ship wretched and you went with them, slamming into the opposite wall of the ship.  

The sailor cursed as he pushed his way out from behind the boxes that had slid right into him. You scrambled to push yourself away, to obscure yourself in any way possible. You didn’t have time to stand but maybe you could hide yourself just far enough away in the dark that he wouldn’t see you. 

You weren’t fast enough. 

His hand snaked out to grab your leg, ending your desperate scramble to get away before it had even really begun. 

“No wonder we got stuck in this god-awful storm, found our bad luck charm right here.”

You kicked at him, trying to struggle, to get away, to run. But where was there to go? They knew you were here now, it was over. You were at their mercy. 

The pleading started as soon as it sunk in, desperate promises that you wouldn’t cause any trouble, that it was only a day until they docked, you could stay out of their way, they wouldn’t even notice you. 

Rain poured down on your face as you were dragged above deck. 

Part of you was aware of the talk that began to arise as the others caught sight of you. You couldn’t focus on anything other than getting away, trying with everything you had to run. 

Despite that, you were pulled closer and closer to the edge of the ship. The rain got saltier and through the dark and endless storm, you realized you were at the edge of the ship, briny water splashing over the sides and hitting you in the face. 

You doubled your attempts of escape as you looked down on the dark waters, not sure where you would go if you escaped but certain that anything was better than being pulled closer and closer to the inky waters. 

“This is your own fault,” one of them yelled over the storm, directed at you this time.

“Please,” you called out, “Please let me stay. I’ll do anything.”

It was an ill-advised promise, especially to make to a ship full of sailors, but you could not be thrown overboard. You’d even prefer one of them ending you here and now, with your feet still standing on the wood of the deck.

Anything but being thrown off, your lungs filling with the churning, black water below you. 

“You should have thought of that before you stowed away,” the man to your left said, with what sounded almost like a chuckle. You hoped you’d imagined it amongst the rest of the endless noise. 

It was hard to know exactly what was happening. The waves were roaring and you could hardly see or hear anything. 

One second your feet were thrashing, fighting to land a blow on any of the men near you, and the next you were underwater. If you thought gathering your bearings was hard on the ship, it was impossible down here. It must be nearby but you had no idea where the ship could be. You fought to stay afloat despite knowing exactly how this would end. There was nothing else to it now. You’d landed in your cold, wet grave. The waves forced you under again and again and no matter how you tried to time your breaths, you couldn’t escape the burn of the saltwater sneaking into your lungs. 

Just as you’d breached the surface again, attempting to cough up some water before heaving in another deadly breath, something yanked at your foot and you were pulled under the waves once more. Your scream was drowned out by the ocean, eyes fighting to open despite the sting of the seawater. 

As you opened your eyes, you realized it was calmer under the water. You were no longer trying to fight the wishes of the waves to pull you down and the ocean rewarded you with a moment of clarity. 

The rockiest part was near the surface, where the rain still beat down on the water. You were being pulled further and further away, so far down that the last rays of sun from behind the clouds could barely reach. 

You’d expected to see a shark or some other ocean creature as you’d felt that tug on your leg. Instead, you found a face staring back at yours. He looked curious, taking you in as you stared dumbfounded back at him. 

Before you had a chance to process what you were seeing, the man who’d just pulled you under the waves leaned forward and kissed you. It wasn’t a long kiss, ending before you even fully realized it began. 

He pulled away and your lungs began to burn, pleading for oxygen. You tried to swim up for air but he grabbed your arm and yanked you down again. Then you caught a glimpse of something below him, the limited light reflecting off of a shimmering tail.

You gasped in water, your lungs unable to hold out any longer. Instead of choking on the ocean water filling your chest, you felt like you were gasping in air. You knew it was water, the texture was different than the air was, but as you heaved in water, you discovered you could breathe. 

He was smirking at you, the smugness evident in his face. 

He let go of your arm, having proved his point and you stayed under, filling your lungs while glancing up at the rocky surface. 

Suddenly, you were being pulled along again, under the stormy water. You didn’t have the strength to fight him, letting him take you wherever he wanted. 

It wasn’t long before you were being pushed into shallow water. You could feel the sand barely a few feet under the water and eagerly moved towards dry land. 

You pulled yourself up onto the warm sand. The rain had disappeared entirely, the sun shining above you once more. You sucked in air, falling to your back as you basked in the warmth. Off in the distance, you could see the storm still swirling. You’d traveled much further than you’d thought. The feeling of the sun shining down on you was more than welcome and some wretched part of you hoped those sailors were still in that accursed storm. 

As soon as you got your first breath of oxygen, it was like your lungs remembered that water wasn't supposed to be inside of them. You started coughing up the salty water onto the shore, gasping like you’d been drowning the whole time and just hadn’t realized it yet. 

You saw your savior wince as you hacked up the seawater. “Sorry, didn’t know that would happen.”

You stared up at him incredulously as your breathing finally slowed. “Aren't sirens supposed to drown humans?”

His eyes narrowed at you above the water. “Aren’t humans supposed to be grateful when you save them?”

Fair enough. “Thank you. I don’t really understand why you saved me but thank you.”

You laid back on the sand, inevitably getting it in your hair but too exhausted to mind. The warmth was welcome after the freezing cold water. 

You took him in from your new vantage point, eyes darting instinctively to his tail. It was a pearlescent thing, the complex shimmering shifting above his white scales. Just above it was a set of gills that he kept below the water as he lay there, staring up at you on the shore. His face wasn’t unpleasant, something almost impish about it. A smattering of scales sat on his cheekbones right under eyes that were tinted orange. His hair was shaggy and pale, dragged down to his shoulders by the water that saturated it. 

“We do drown people sometimes,” he said quietly, like he was working it out for himself and you just happened to be overhearing it. “I was planning on going after your ship but it didn’t feel like a fair fight after they threw you off like that.” 

“Humans didn’t want me, sirens didn’t even want to drown me.” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“I can… I can drown you if you want?” he said, mouth barely above the water as he spoke. 

“Maybe some other time. Where even are we?” you asked, looking around at the small patch of sand. It was a relatively barren little island, a few rocky tidepools on the other side of it the most exciting thing present on the small stretch of land.

“Just a little island nearby. I figured you’d want to get some rest before I took you anywhere. Why’d they throw you overboard anyway?”

“I was a stowaway,” you explained. “I needed to get somewhere and didn’t have any other way to travel. They found me mid storm and women are bad luck so off I went.”

“I can take you there if you want. Where the ship was going, I mean. I know all their routes. I won’t even drown you.”

Who would have guessed that the sailors would try to drown you and then you’d have a siren promising to bring you ashore? It was like the world had turned upside down. 

“Thank you so much,” you said, hoping it could both convey your gratitude and keep him on your good side long enough to successfully get you to your destination.

“Also, we should wait until night, I’ll take you back then okay?” He sounded very insistent, despite you having no idea why. 

You were honestly worried you might freeze to death if you left at night. “How about in the morning?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He waited eagerly, watching the sun set. It was refreshing, being able to see it clearly after locking yourself below deck for so long. When it finally dipped below the horizon, he turned to you. “Watch this.” 

His tail flicked excitedly behind him, a light glow starting to reflect off of the scales on his bottom half. 

As he ran his hands quickly through the water, you were able to make it out better. The water lit up a light blue as he moved. 

You couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face, your eyes going wide with wonder. “Oh my god, that’s incredible.”

“Isn’t it? It’s why I like this island so much, it’s so strong here. It’s a bunch of tiny plants in the water that are glowing, I thought you’d like it.”

How could you not? You’d never seen anything like it in your life, it almost looked like the water was alight with a blue flame. 

You could feel your siren’s eyes on you as you moved your hand back and forth in the water. 

“Are you less sad now?” he asked and your movement slowed at his question. 

“What?”

“You were upset, did I fix it?”

Was that what he was trying to do? “Why do you care?”

He shrugged. “Not often I get to talk to you guys, our encounters are usually less pleasant than this. We’re kind of similar, you know. Sailors don’t like me either.”

“Small world.”

Eventually, you abandoned the glowing water, as amazing as it was, in an attempt to rest. You knew you needed to get some sleep. You were exhausted but it was cold and you never fully dried off and you were absolutely miserable. You heard a shuffling in the sand and then a warm hand touched your side. You didn’t know how his body regulated his temperature so well in the cold water. His arms were open, a clear invitation to nestle into him

You hesitated and he spoke. “You seem like you could use the warmth.”

You moved towards him, head settling on his chest as his arms wrapped around you.

“I thought fish were cold-blooded,” you said as his arms rubbed up and down yours, immediately sending a wave of heat through you.

“I’m only half fish.”

“Is that how you can breathe out here?” you asked, looking at the trail he left in the sand as he dragged himself ashore.

He murmured in the affirmative, leaning back to make sure you could comfortably lie down against him. He was right, his body heat did help. There was also something comforting about leaning against him, his arms wrapped around you protectively. 

You drifted off faster than you would have thought possible while soaking wet and cuddled up with a fish man. 

When you woke up, you glanced at the boy next to you. He really did look silly on the land like this, flopped over on his side. As you took him in, you stared at his gills right over where you assumed his ribs would be. You knew what he had told you last night but he looked too peaceful and still. You quickly nudged him awake, wanting to make sure he was alright out of the water like this.

He rubbed his eyes, moving slightly in the sand in an attempt to get a good look at you. “What do you want?”

“Just wanted to make sure you were still breathing.”

“Mmhmm, still breathing, can I go back to sleep now?”

He tried to roll over, tail flopping helplessly behind him, and you nudged him again. “Don’t we need to leave?”

He squinted up at your face, which you knew was creased with worry, and his demeanor softened. “Yeah, let’s get you home.”

You didn’t bother to correct him about where you were going, instead helping him back into the water. He pulled you in after him, looking back at you as he did, clearly deep in thought.

“You know how I kissed you yesterday?” he finally asked. 

“To make me breathe underwater? Yeah, I do.”

“It would be much easier to transport you if you could breathe underwater again.”

It was the most roundabout way anyone had ever asked to kiss you before, that was for sure. 

He seemed nervous about it so instead of letting him dwell on it, you just kissed him. You hoped there were no other rules to the kiss you needed to follow but your siren didn’t seem to mind, instead leaning into it. It was kind of nice, being the one to surprise him this time. 

You knew the kiss didn’t have to be long, the one from the day before had barely lasted a moment, and yet you lingered. His hand hesitantly rose to cup your cheek, his touch featherlight. He wasn’t holding you there but his touch begged you to stay just a second longer. 

He looked almost frightened when you pulled away, eyes wide and hand still outstretched. 

“Will that work?” you asked.

He cleared his throat, still looking dazed. “Yeah, that should be fine. Come on.”

Even knowing that you’d be fine and you’d be able to breathe, it took forever to will yourself to inhale after he pulled you into the water, waiting until the last second before you passed out, when your body forced breathing on you. 

The journey felt much faster than it should have been. You couldn’t have been zooming through the water for more than an hour when you were being pulled to the surface once more, your feet extending to find rocks beneath you. 

You turned and your eyes met the shore, the dock looming above you. You guessed you’d probably beat the ship here. Who knows if they’d made it at all, maybe the storm had taken them out. Part of you hoped it had. 

He grinned up at you as you stood, still lying below you in the water. “This is your stop.”

You had no idea how to thank him. What did one even say to someone who had just saved your life? 

“Thank you,” you managed. “If you ever need anything…”

If he ever needed anything what? You couldn’t imagine he’d have a particularly easy time finding you. 

He seemed to understand your meaning anyway. “I’ll be sure to ask. And if you ever change your mind on the drowning thing, let me know.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Will do.”

You settled on the shore, the rocks shifting beneath you as you sat, and you watched your siren swim off, one last shimmer of pale scales flashing before he disappeared into the waves.

[aemondsdoll]

sleeping beauty | aemond targaryen

warnings: somno, intense breath play, piv, pet names (bunny), aem superiority complex, non con, degredation, ooc,

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

summary: Aemond decides he wants to experience you while you sleep.

a/n: need sum1 to call me bunny irl

————

Aemond knows it’s wrong to take you while you sleep. But he knows you wouldn’t put up a fight if he were to decide to violate that boundary. He knows you’d play the dutiful wife, your body his to indulge in whenever he so pleased.

Aemond considered asking while you were awake, to have sex with him. But he wanted to try something new.

As you slept, he watched. His eyes attending to your breathing, waiting for it to slow. He’d deem when you were just deep enough into your slumber. That’s when he’d make his move, luckily, in his favour, you were wearing a lightweight shift to bed. He thanked the gods for making the night warn, otherwise you’d not have been vulnerable to his advances.

Aemond’s eyes settled on your chest, your breath had evened out, and your mouth lightly agape. His hand makes his way from under the furs to your thigh, sliding it up until the fabric of your shift bunches under his tentative hands, hiking it above your hips, nothing hiding your cunt from him.

Goosebumps rose on your flesh even as you slept, your body unable to resist him even in sleep. His cock is already hard from the feel of your soft skin, and the inviting warmth between your legs. While moving as little as possible, he frees his cock from constraint, his hand snaking its way to your clitoris, making careful and calculated circles around it.

“Mmnnh.” The first noise from you, a muffled sound of pleasure, stirring gently. He continued with the movement of his hand, but drifts it lower towards your vagina. His finger is covered in your slick, ready to take him.

His length is thin, but long, making it all the easier to push into your plush, velvet walls. A groan escapes his throat and he bottoms out. You stir again, and he moves a hair from your face to behind your ear. He wants to watch your sleeping face as he defiles you.

Aemonds thrusts start carefully, he puts his face against your head, breathing in your scent while muffling any noise he emits. “My bunnies little cunt takes me so well, even while she’s asleep.” He mumbles, his thrusts quickening to a safe pace while not completely restraining himself. He wanted to enjoy this a little longer before you woke.

Your pussy quivers around him from time to time, causing him to grunt. Hes mumbling incoherently, scanning over the details of your face as he takes you. “Good bunny,” he coos, soothing your sleeping form, thrusts becoming rougher, more sharp. “Such- such a little whore.” He stutters, his hand going to wrap around your throat, his hand fitting so perfectly around it.

He squeezed, resting just how far he could go. He used your throat as leverage to fuck you harder. You open your eyes groggily, panting and confused. “Aemond?”

“Shut up and take it, bunny.” Aemond hisses into your ear, his grip on your throat tightening. You have no choice but to listen to him. His tip roughly meets your spot, causing you to grip the blankets.

His hand leaves your throat to push your head down into the pillow, flipping you onto your stomach, he angles his cock back to your entrance and pushes in once more, his thrusts mad, looking at your sleepy, confused, cock drunk face.

“Gonna fill you up,” he pants, forcing your head further against the pillow, “Cum for me bunny,” his breathy voice comes again. You squirm, letting out a yelp of sorts, and he begins to pound faster, sending you over the edge, tears from the sheer force of his thrusts rise to your eyes, letting out a strangled cry as you come apart, pussy pulsing and acting as a vice around him.

“Good bitch,” he seethes, rolling his hips a few times more before they stutter, filling you deep with his seed. You lay there, your brain fucked dumb. Aemond leaves the bed, fetching a towel to wipe you down briefly, getting into the bed again wordlessly rolling over. He falls asleep soon thereafter, and so do you.

[slu7formen]

Girl first of all I want to say that I'm OBSESSED with your writing I love it.

Second of all I would like to make a request about Luke so hear me out.

Luke and reader were in a relationship before he betrayed camp and they were head over heals for each other and then he stole the bolt and when Percy discovers he's the thief the reader is there feeling betrayed and specially heartbroken even though Luke ask her to go with him but she doesn't accept it because she's so loyal to camp and her friends.

Time passed and even if she wants to hate Luke she loves him more than anything. And Luke loves her too so instead of asking Annabeth to escape with him he asks reader and she accepts.

I want to see everything in here fluff, angst, everything you think about.

I hope you like this request and make it real for me because I've been having this idea for over a week.

Okay but I feel so bad ‘cause I totally forgot I had this story FULLY WRITTEN and READY to be published (‘cause I LOVED it), I’m so sorry angel, made you wait a lot more than just a week 🥺, but thanks for reading my stories <3

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: luke´s a traitor, betrayal, use of yn, swearing, kinda angst (?, KISSING, lil book spoiler

₊˚⊹♡

The crackle and pop of the bonfire filled the air, a comforting contrast to the vibrant bursts of color exploding overhead. The annual fireworks display was in full swing, casting shadows on the faces of your friends huddled around the warm flames. It was a picture of peace, a moment of respite amidst the constant threat of monsters demigod drama.

You stole a glance at the empty space beside you. Luke, your boyfriend, had told you he'd just be back in a minute. A few minutes had turned into an eternity, but you chalked it up to his usual impulsiveness. He'd be back any minute, with his signature smile and an arm wrapped around you.

You knew it.

From the moment you met, you and Luke had been inseparable. You were his confidante, his anchor in the chaos of being a demigod and his messy life. He was your rock, always there to make you laugh, to understand the weight of your heritage in a way no one else could.

The warmth of the fire danced on your skin, but a shiver snaked down your spine. Something felt off. The chatter of your friends seemed muted, replaced by a dull ache in your chest. You couldn’t deny the way you noticed how Luke has been acting lately. So weird and distant towards you the last couple days. You loved him, fiercely and unconditionally. You'd been there for him through thick and thin, especially after his quest left a jagged scar across his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes.

But then he suddenly just, snapped.

A memory surfaced in you , sharp and unwelcome. It had been months ago, a conversation in the darkness of his cabin in a particular cold night. Luke, his eyes filled with a desperate fervor, had confessed his anger towards the gods, his belief that they were cruel and neglectful parents. He'd spoken of tricking the Olympians, joining forces with the Titans to fight for a better life for all demigods.

The anger in his voice, the glint of rebellion in his eyes, had scared you. The scar on his face, a reminder of his failed quest, seemed to burn brighter that night.

You understood his anger. The gods were far from perfect, their neglect and cruelty evident in countless demigod lives. He'd begged you to join him, his voice filled with a desperate hope. But you'd refused, your loyalty to Camp Half-Blood and your friends unwavering. You had spent hours talking him through it as you held his hand, reminding him of all the good the gods had done, no matter how flawed they might be. He'd looked lost at the time, seeking comfort in your touch. You'd thought you'd reached him, extinguished that spark of rebellion.

You really believed that conversation was long forgotten. But there was a reason why you remembered it.

Some movement at the edge of the woods caught your eye. But it wasn't the boy you were expecting. Percy, his face pale and etched with worry, practically stumbled into the fireplace, his chest heaving and his grip tight on Riptide.

A pang of concern shot through you. "Percy?" you called out, concern lacing your voice. You pushed yourself off the ground, walking towards him. "What happened? Where's Luke?"

Percy hesitated, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. Shit, should he tell you? His silence was a hammer blow to your gut. You knew, with a chilling certainty, that something was terribly wrong.

"What?" you choked out, the question barely a whisper, expecting some kind of answer from the blonde boy, but nothing came from his trembling lips. The air felt dense, with a truth you desperately wanted to deny. You saw Luke getting into the woods with Percy, you saw it. And now, he was nowhere to be seen.

Then, it clicked. A cold, horrifying truth began to dawn on you.

He lied.

Without a word, you pushed Percy aside and started running, towards the woods. Your heart hammered against your ribs, like a trapped bird desperate to escape. You plunged into the darkness of the forest, the path you'd walked countless times with Luke now leading you into the unknown.

"Luke!" you screamed, your voice raw with anger and despair. You wove through the trees, the undergrowth tearing at your camp shirt, but you didn't care. You had to find him, to confront him, to understand why he'd chosen this path, if he chose it, why he'd lied to you.

But with each passing minute, hope crashed over you. The forest grew denser, the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the frantic beat of your own heart. There was no sign of Luke, no echo of his footsteps, no smell, no sense of his presence, only the chilling truth hanging heavy in the air.

He was gone.

He had left.

You sank to your knees, the weight of betrayal crushing you as the first tears you ever cried for Luke Castellan, started to fall. The man you loved, the person you'd trusted with your life, had chosen darkness over everything you held dear. He had chosen Kronos over you.

Grief, a cold and relentless serpent, coiled around your heart. And that feeling never seemed to leave.

The year that followed was a blur of sadness and a desperate attempt at normalcy. The silence from Luke was deafening. Not a single Iris-message, not a single sign of the one who once, was your boyfriend.

You knew you wouldn´t be able to return to Camp, at least not for now. Every corner held a ghost of Luke's smile, every sword clang a reminder of his battles and his betrayal. Your friends, the true ones, bless their hearts, tried everything to cheer you up from a distance, but their efforts felt like trying to pick up the pieces of a broken glass in the sea.

You opted to stay home that summer. But even there, away from the prying eyes and hushed whispers, escape from Luke's betrayal seemed impossible. Messages and news found you no matter where you hid. News of Luke leading a rogue army aboard a stolen cruise ship, rumors of him serving as Kronos's right hand while the Titan slumbered – it all reached your ears.

The nights were the worst. The darkness mirrored the hollowness within you. Tears would stain your pillow as you relived the events leading up to his betrayal. You once seemed to dream about seeing him again, and now you only screamed when you saw his face in your nightmares.

The memory of his touch, the warmth of his smile, the nights you spent loving each other with the sheets tangling in your legs, all felt like cruel illusions now. Yet, a part of you, a stubborn, illogical part, still clung to the love you once shared.

And Gods, did you try to keep yourself as busy as possible. You threw yourself into your studies and little courses here and there, seeking solace in facts and logic. You even began working, a boring but well payed summer job. Yet, the pain lingered, a dull ache that refused to subside.

The more you tried to banish these visions, the more vivid they became. You missed him like a starving man craved a feast, a yearning that gnawed at your insides and threatened to consume you. Frustration gnawed at you. How could you still love someone who'd betrayed you so utterly? How could your heart still ache for a man who chose war over you? The questions echoed endlessly within you, a relentless chorus fueling your self-conscious.

How could you be so weak?

These consuming questions were your companions for a whole year. But as the second summer after Luke's betrayal rolled around, a shift occurred within you. The raw, agonizing pain began to dull, replaced by a quiet resolve.

Finally, you decided it was time to take back control again. Camp Half-Blood called, a familiar haven among the storm. You returned a changed person. The vibrant smile that once adorned your face was a ghost, replaced by a guarded expression that spoke about the pain you harbored in silence. The camp's familiar energy felt hollow, a constant reminder of the happiness you'd lost.

Training became your sole solace. You'd disappear into the arena for hours, your celestial bronze sword a blur as you cleaved through training dummies, each swing fueled by a potent cocktail of grief and anger.

Exhaustion became your closest companion too. You pushed yourself to the limits of your endurance, hoping to find oblivion at the bottom of an empty fuel tank. But sleep, when it finally came, offered no escape. You'd dream of him, leading his army of rogue demigods, his eyes filled with a fanatical zeal that chilled you to the bone. And in those dreams, you'd see yourself, standing beside him, not out of loyalty to his cause, but out of a desperate yearning for the boy you once loved, still love.

In the quiet moments, when your friends weren't around, the dam would break. You'd collapse onto your cool and empty bed, tears streaming down your face, a raw, primal sob escaping your lips. The memory of Luke was no joy anymore, it haunted you like a specter.

You hated yourself for the traitorous flicker in your heart, the desperate, illogical yearning for him. It wasn't the war that tempted you; it was him.

You hated how much you missed him.

The scent of rain clung to the humid night air and to you like a second skin as you zipped up your duffel bag. Another summer at Camp Half-Blood loomed, promising a bittersweet mix of nostalgia and pain, but more training. The worst was yet to come, so you needed to be ready.

New York City, with its cacophony of car horns and the anonymity of millions, had become your refuge these past few months. In Manhattan, the memories of Luke seemed to hold less power for some weird reason, their edges dulling with the passage of time. You'd spent the past months in this tiny apartment, the silence deafening compared to the constant hum of life at camp.

Just then, a sharp rap on the door shattered the silence of your apartment. It was past midnight, an unusual time for visitors.

Adrenaline surged through you. Months of living fully alone had honed your senses. You'd become acutely aware of the city's underbelly – the flickering shadows that could hide monsters thanks to the ever-present mist. You'd seen them stalking the streets, stalking you, their true forms hidden to them mortals, an unsettling feeling crawling up your spine whenever their paths crossed yours. They never attacked, but their chilling presence followed you like a phantom.

Grabbing your necklace, you asked, "Yes?"

Silence. You weren't taking any chances. Pulling down at the pendant once, the necklace morphed into your celestial bronze dagger.

You took a step, two. Could it really be a monster? Could it really be some creature trying to get to you, by knocking on the door? With a shaky breath, you cracked the door open just enough to peek through the gap, hiding the dagger behind your back.

The sight that greeted you stole the air from your lungs.

Standing on your doorstep, bathed in the harsh glow of the hallway light, was Luke. His dark hair was windswept, his face etched with a gauntness that hadn't been there before, but his eyes – those were the same eyes that had haunted your dreams for months. They held a desperate plea, a flicker of the boy you once loved struggling to break through the hardened shell of the man he'd become.

“Luke?”

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words and a tangled web of emotions. Time seemed to warp in that hallway, a single moment stretched into an eternity. Luke looked different, yes. The carefree boy you knew had been replaced by a man hardened by experience, his features etched with lines that spoke of battles fought and burdens carried. But his eyes, those brown eyes that had once held a mischievous twinkle, now held a deeper sadness that mirrored your own.

"Hi" Luke finally said, his voice raspy.

You stood speechless, the dagger still clutched tightly in your hand. Years of longing warred with the fresh wounds of betrayal. You wanted to scream at him, to unleash the torrent of hurt and anger that suddenly washed over you. But something held you back, a flicker of curiosity, maybe.

"Um, can I come in?" he continued, his posture pleading despite his attempt at nonchalance.

Jesus. Was that all he had to say? After everything, after what he did, all he could muster was a request to enter your apartment? A tide of anger threatened to drown you. Did he not understand the gravity of what he'd done? Did he not realize the pain he'd caused? But you forced your thoughts down. You weren't a child anymore, throwing tantrums wouldn't solve anything.

"Are you armed?" you asked, your voice flat, devoid of any warmth.

Luke flinched at your question, a flicker of pain crossing his features. "You think I wanna hurt you?" he countered, his tone defensive.

"Last time I saw you," you spat back, your voice laced with bitterness, "was three years ago, and I know your little monsters are keeping an eye on me. The first thing I'm supposed to think about is whether you want to hurt me or not."

He sighed, a long, weary exhale. Unzipping his jacket, he turned slowly, patting down his pockets before turning back to you. His eyes, once alive with mischief and love, were now filled with a desperate sincerity. "See? No weapons. Just me."

You studied him, a battle raging within you. One part of you wanted to slam the door, to let him know that he wasn't welcome. Yet, another part, a smaller, more vulnerable part, couldn't help but cling to the flicker of hope that flickered amongst the ashes of your love.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you stepped aside, allowing a sliver of space for him to enter. "Fine" you said, your voice devoid of warmth. "But you better have a good reason to come here"

Luke hesitated for a beat before stepping inside. He closed the door softly behind him, the sound echoing through the tense silence. He stood there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning the room, landing finally on the packed bags besides the tv.

"You're heading back to camp?" he asked.

You flipped the dagger in your hand, and the celestial bronze morphed back into the golden necklace. "What do you want?" you repeated, your voice still sharp, a shield against the emotions swirling within you.

Luke stood awkwardly in the doorway, the once carefree boy replaced by a man burdened by the weight of his choices. His leather jacket seemed to hang heavy on his broad shoulders.

"I…" he started, then stopped, seemingly unsure how to proceed. He cleared his throat, the sound scratchy and unfamiliar. "You look different" he finally managed, the words tumbling out awkwardly.

You scoffed, a humorless sound that surprised even you.

"Look, yn" he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper, "I wanna talk, okay? I know what I did was wrong. I know I hurt you."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "You could say that again."

His fingers twitched at your bitterness, but pressed on. "I came here because..." He hesitated again, seemingly wrestling with an inner turmoil. "Because I-"

Frustration bubbled up within you. This cryptic approach, this lack of honesty, it was infuriating. "Because you what, Luke?" you demanded, your voice laced with a sharp edge. "Because you decided to grace me with your presence after leading a rebellion against the gods? Or maybe because you just wanted to see if I'm still waiting for you?"

You watched his face harden, the vulnerability replaced by a familiar defiance.

"Don't twist this" he snapped, his voice firm. "I came here because..." He took a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours. "Because I miss you, yn. I miss us."

The air crackled with a tension so thick you could almost taste it.

You took a slow step towards him, then another. He took notes of yourself as you did. The way you had grown internally was so intense that he could sense it everywhere. He might have betrayed you, but that only helped you get on your feet stronger, grow stronger. Become the warrior he always knew you were.

Then, in a move as instinctive as it was fierce, your hand lashed out. The slap connected with a stinging crack, the sound echoing through the apartment like a thunderclap. Luke's head snapped to the side, a crimson handprint blooming on his cheek. Shame flickered in his eyes as he scoffed, quickly replaced by a dull acceptance.

He deserved it, that much was clear.

"How dare you?” you spat, your voice shaking with barely controlled fury, "How fucking dare you come back here after what you've done? After leading a rebellion against the gods, after putting everyone we care about at risk? After betraying me?"

Luke took a shaky breath, running a hand over the burning mark on his face. "I'm sorry” he said, his voice low and ragged. "I'm so sorry. I know I hurt you, and I know a simple apology won't erase the pain or fix things. But you have to believe me, I never meant for things to get this bad"

He stepped towards you, his hands outstretched in a placating gesture, but you flinched back, the space between you a tangible barrier. "Don't touch me" you warned, your voice laced with ice.

He lowered his hands, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I know you hate me for what I´ve done. For joining Kronos, I-“

"You think this is all about Kronos?" you cut him off, your voice shaking with barely contained fury. "You think the reason my heart has been broken these past years is because you joined a fucking Titan?"

Luke remained silent, the weight of your words pressing down on him like a collapsing mountain. He knew better.

"This is about what you did to me, Luke" you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. "I was with you, all the time. I was your girlfriend! And you betrayed me. You left me alone” your voice broke so hard that you had to take a second to swallow the big gulp that was forming in your throat. “Everyone at camp looked at me after what you did," you choked out. "They either felt sorry for me, or they insulted me, saying that I was still loyal to you, that I was a traitor."

You closed your eyes for a moment, the pain etched on your face a stark reminder of the devastation he'd wrought. "You were the most important person in my life" you cried, your voice raw and vulnerable. "But you? You let Kronos fill your head with empty promises, and just like that, you forgot about us."

The truth felt like a bitter pill to swallow. He opened his mouth to speak.

"I asked you to come with me" he finally whispered, his voice thick with regret. "I gave you the chance to leave with me."

"And even after I said no," you countered, your voice trembling like the finger that was now pointing at his chest, "you still left. You threw me away like shit. And do you know what the worst part is?" Tears streamed down your face, tracing a path through the dust of old heartache. "That as much as I try, I can't seem to hate you."

A sob escaped your lips, shattering the fragile dam you'd built around your emotions. "I still love you, Luke" you confessed. "Even though it's a love that fills me with pain, it's still there. I hate myself because I dream about you, about the way things used to be. But when I don't, I feel like a piece of me is missing."

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears and a raw vulnerability that left Luke speechless.

What had he done?

"I hate myself because I can't help but pray for your safety, even though you never seemed to care about mine. I hate myself because even after everything, I still love you, Luke."

Your heart felt like a shattered kaleidoscope, a million shards of love, anger, and pain reflecting back at you in a distorted reality. You walked and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as sobs racked your body.

Luke, his heart heavy with a remorse sharper than any weapon, watched you crumble. The carefree girl he fell in love with was gone, replaced by a woman etched with the scars of his own actions. Hesitantly, he reached out, placing a hand on your back as he sat down next to you, a gesture of comfort that felt more like a branding iron on his guilt.

"yn” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I still love you too."

You didn't respond, the sobs coming in ragged gasps as your body struggled to contain the storm within.

"I know I left you" he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "And you didn't deserve it. But… I was so lost, so angry. Kronos promised me power, a solution to all the problems I saw. He convinced me that Olympus was corrupt, that the gods didn't care about half-bloods like us. And when you said no, he-, he told me to leave you behind, said that it would be easier for everyone…"

His voice trailed off. Easier for who? Easier for him, perhaps, to sever the ties that bound him, to plunge headfirst into a rebellion fueled by manipulated ideals.

"But it wasn't" he choked out, a tear escaping his eye, carving a glistening path down his cheek. "Every day, every step I took… it was a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The guilt was eating me alive, yn, you have to believe me”. His hands desperately reached for yours, trying to get your fingers to intertwine by placing his over yours.

Tears welled up in his own eyes. "I regret everything. I mean it. I don't want to do this anymore."

You finally lifted your head, your eyes red-rimmed and brimming with unshed tears. Luke looked different to you now, the bravado and arrogance gone, replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored your own.

"Don't want to do what?" you asked, your voice hoarse.

"This” he gestured vaguely to himself, but you didn’t quite catch it. "Following Kronos. Helping him rise to power. It's wrong. I can see that now."

“Little late to that, isn’t it?” you blurted out.

He took a deep breath, his expression resolute. "yn, there's a reason I came to you. A reason I risked Kronos' trust in me." He paused, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Kronos wants me to become his host."

And the world seemed to suddenly stop. You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Your mind raced, trying to process what he had just said. Luke, your Luke, becoming a vessel for the monstrous Titan?

"What?" you croaked, fear coating your voice like frost. Your eyes darted around, searching for a way out, a solution, anything. But Luke wouldn't meet your gaze, his jaw clenched tight, a storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. "No. No, he can't. It's not possible."

The thought of him, Luke, being consumed by Kronos, twisted your insides into knots.

Luke, however, seemed to gather his resolve. "Yes, it is" he said, his voice low and strained. "There are things you don't know, yn. Things I've done."

A cold dread gripped your stomach, a physical manifestation of the terror that clawed at your insides. Your mind raced, desperate for answers. "Then tell me" you only managed to say. "Luke, what have you done?"

He hesitated, looking around as if afraid someone might be listening. "There's no time now" he finally said, his voice tight with urgency. "But I promise I will explain everything. That's not why I'm here."

Taking a deep breath, he dared to reach out, his hand gently grasping yours, finally. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through you, a stark contrast to the chilling fear that gripped you.

He called your name, his voice softening. "Come with me" he said.

You only feel capable of frowning your brows in confusion. "Go where?" you asked, your voice wary.

"Anywhere" he said, like a plea. "Let's run away, together. It can be just you and me again"

He leaned closer, the air around him crackling with a tension that mirrored the storm within you. As his forehead rested against yours, a jolt of electricity shot through you. It was a familiar warmth, a spark that had ignited countless stolen kisses and whispered secrets back when your world wasn't teetering on the brink of war. His other hand cupped your cheek, the touch a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you. His hand, usually warm and comforting, felt cool against your burning skin, a physical reminder of the distance that had grown between you. Yet, despite the chill, a wave of longing washed over you, a yearning for the simple comfort of his touch.

But reason tugged at you, a voice of caution in the midst of the storm. "But Luke," you stammered, pulling away slightly, "If you escape, Kronos will come for you. He'll come for us, and-,"

"I don't care" he interrupted, his voice resolute, yet laced with a tremor that betrayed his bravado. It was as if he was on the precipice, teetering between defiance and the vulnerability of a man on the verge of breaking. "I'll fight everything that comes for us. And if the war happens... I'll fight. I'll fight for everyone, I’ll fight for you. I'm not losing you again, yn."

His words resonated deep within you, a desperate echo of the love you still harbored for him, a love you thought you'd buried beneath layers of anger and sadness. You saw the fear in his eyes, a fear that you sadly shared, but beneath it, a flicker of something else – a raw, desperate hope. And as you looked at him, a wave of relief washed over you.

The relief of knowing he wasn't entirely lost, that a part of the Luke you loved still existed.

"I love you" he confessed again, his voice trembling.

Looking into his eyes, a storm of emotions swirling within them, the truth resonated with you. "I love you too" you whispered, the words tumbling from your lips like a long-awaited confession.

The world did indeed, stop. The rain, a relentless symphony against the window pane, faded into a distant murmur. The thunders became a muffled echo. In that moment, the only reality was the space between you and Luke, charged with the unspoken electricity of your confessions.

He leaned in further, a hesitant question in his eyes. A flicker of fear danced in their depths, a scared boy seeking forgiveness beneath the warrior's facade. You watched him, a bittersweet ache blooming in your chest.

With a sigh that trembled on your lips, you closed the distance. Your lips met in a hesitant touch, a tentative exploration of a forgotten familiarity. Three years of longing, of unspoken words and simmering emotions, poured into that kiss. It was sweeter than you'd dared to imagine, a warmth that spread from your lips and drizzled down your chest.

Unlike the passionate encounters of your past, this felt different; like kissing him for the first time. Luke's lips moved against yours with a reverence that sent shivers down your spine. He held back, his desperate desire tempered with a respect that surprised you. You knew him.

But then, you yielded. Your lips parted, a silent invitation, and his tongue met yours in a dance as old as time. A full, heavy and angry thunderclap erupted outside, a jarring contrast to the intimacy unfolding on the couch. But you paid it no mind, lost in the whirlpool of rediscovered affection.

Your arms encircled his neck, a desperate hold. He, in turn, cupped your waist, his touch lingering on the curve of your hip as he gently lowered you onto the soft cushion. His body hovered above yours. His lips, however, remained glued to yours, a relentless exploration that spoke of a love both fierce and fragile.

The kiss deepened, a slow burn that threatened to consume you both. You felt the familiar rhythm of his heart against yours, a counterpoint to the frantic beat of your own. It was a melody of second chances, of unspoken apologies and nascent hope.

His hand trailed down your back, teasingly brushing under your shirt, sending shivers dancing across your skin. You arched into his touch, a wordless plea for more. But just then, he pulled away, his breath ragged, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions.

His voice, a husky murmur against your skin, sent shivers down your spine. "I missed this so much," he whispered, his lips trailing down the delicate column of your neck and the dip of your collarbone. His warm breath mingled with your own, a heady mix of emotions swirling around you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, the familiar texture a stark reminder of the past you both desperately clung to. He reached for your pulse, slowly sucking in before letting it pop.

"I wanted to feel you every night" he confessed. "Every night, I dreamt of you." His words were a stark contrast to the cold, distant Luke you saw in your dreams, the only vivid memory you’ve had of him the past years.

"Luke" you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to speak.

He didn't stop. His hand drifted down your torso, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your lower tummy. Every touch felt like a brand, a searing reminder of what you had lost and the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"It was a mistake" he said, his voice thick with regret. "A big, fucking mistake. Leaving you, betraying you-, it was the biggest mistake of my life. My life doesn't make any sense without you."

With a strangled sound, Luke deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own. You clung to him, a drowning sailor grasping at a lifeline. The scent of leather that clung to him was intoxicating, a familiar anchor in this storm of emotions.

"Luke" you managed to gasp between kisses, a flicker of reason breaking through the haze of desire. You needed more than just words, needed a binding promise, something concrete to hold onto if you were to take this leap of faith.

He stared at you, his eyes a storm of emotions – desire, confusion, and a flicker of something that might have been annoyance. But before he could respond, you pressed on.

"Swear on it, Luke" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "Swear on the River Styx” you repeat. Luke’s eyes dart back and forth, from your lips, to your eyes, to filling up with confusion. “I’m not-,” you cut yourself off as you feel your eyes filling with tears again. You bit your tongue before speaking, “I’m not letting you hurt me like this again"

You knew it was selfish, a desperate attempt to safeguard your heart. But Luke was here, finally, after all this time. You craved the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence. The thought of letting him go again, of enduring another betrayal, was unbearable. Yet, a part of you, still scarred from the past, craved a guarantee, an oath sworn on the most powerful river in the Underworld. It was dangerous, yes, but did you care?

Did he care?

Luke's expression hardened. The River Styx, held a weight that couldn't be ignored. The river he already bathed himself in. It was a binding vow, a promise etched in the very fabric of existence.

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a flicker of doubt, a hint of manipulation. But all he saw was the vulnerability, the fear – a vulnerability born from the scars he himself had inflicted.

"I swear on the River Styx" he said, his voice low and solemn, each word heavy with the weight of the oath. "I swear I won’t ever leave you. I swear I love you. I swear I'll fight for you, for us, with every breath in my lungs."

[hurthermore]

The primal urge to do backshots with Human Al and you’re looking back at him, he’s all sweaty and groaning as you throw your weight against pelvis. It’s all too much and you’re whining, pulling yourself from him and sprawling out on the damp sheets. Y’all been going at it for an hour now. You needed a break but he’s having none of it as he pulls you back on his cock. Him pounding you down as he grunts out, “You wanted me so badly and now you’re running? Hush up you can take it.” in that low natural elision of his voice. GRAWHHHHHH

»»------► 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚎 - 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 (18+)

Pairing: 𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗!𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Warnings: 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔? 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎/𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜, 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚐

A/N: 𝙷𝙾𝙻𝚈 𝙼𝙾𝙻𝚈 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙶𝙾𝚃 𝙼𝙴 𝙳𝚁𝙸𝙿𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙶. 𝙸 𝙿𝙰𝚄𝚂𝙴𝙳 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙳𝚄𝙲𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝚆𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂

𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗, 𝙸 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚊𝚊, 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝:

"Can you make a part 2 of “Mine” where reader purposefully talks to the neighbor again just so Alastor can uphold that threat of carving his name on her body? 👀"

𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝚈!

“You asked for this, darling.”

The hair on your head cascaded around the cheeks of your face as your husband held the knife he had taken many lives with against the naked skin of your breast; the sharp, pointed edge of the weapon ever so shallowly pierced your flesh, forcing a tooth-gritting pained whine to echo from your throat. 

Despite the pain, the pain you knew he would cause upon you, you couldn’t escape the threat that had made your cunt clench when your husband had apprised you with it when you had last welcomed the neighbour into your house. The threat of Alastor carving his name into your pretty epidermis was all you could think of; all you could imagine.

All you desired.

So when you invited that same neighbour over, you knew that this was what was in store for you.

“Do you think I pretence my threats, darling?” Your husband asked you as his knife sliced against your skin; only damaging you enough to cause a thin line of slight blood to pour out in drops.

You shook your head as you laid still for him like he had asked you to before he began the process of carving his beautiful name into you; your thighs tensing against your husband's waist as his clothed pelvis pressed against your now ripped lingerie; courtesy of Alastor. “I wanted…” You mumbled in pain, your eyes squeezing shut as his knife glazed over the dip in your ribs, between the valley of your breasts. “I wanted you… to do this.” Your lips parted, mewling in pleasure as Alastor rammed two of his long and roughed fingers into your heat without warning after you admitted the truth to him.

His breath hitched as his knife carved the last letter of his name into the opposite breast he had begun on. “Such a debauched wife I have,” He groaned as his fingers heavily slammed into your wet, fleshy walls. His head lowered to your now bloodied chest; the wounds ever so cursively depicted your lover's name. You could only moan as his tongue snaked along every curved letter of his name. “You’re just so perfect; you were made all for me, weren’t you, darling?” 

Your voice echoed a yes. moaning as your husband's words surrounded your ears; his tongue soaking up the blood from your breasts as his fingers fucked into your core. 

Lifting his body away from yours, you looked at the small smeared blood against the corners of his lips before he picked you up with two arms; as if you weighed nothing to him. Pushing his face into you, he pressed his lips against yours; and before you could reciprocate or wrap your arms around his shoulders, he spun your body around as he threw you back on the bed, forcing your wounded chest to collide into the mattress, your body bouncing up from the recoil of being thrown.

Before your body could naturally cease recoiling off the mattress, Alastor's palm pushed down against the area between your shoulder blades; pressing your chest harshly into the bed before three of his fingers forced their way into your cunt. Crying out from the sudden intrusion of pleasure from his fingers and the pain he enforced by pressing your wounds against the bed, your husband quite literally pulled your rear up to meet his clothed pelvis from his fingers that delved deep inside of you; pushing your lower half up like you were some type of bowling ball.

Looking back at your husband, his eyes flashed from your cunt to your eyes; his gaze filled with that pure desire of love and lust that always consumed him whenever he fucked his love into you. “Al, please. I need you.” Your voice sobbed as his fingers prodded the innards of your core in every direction he could possibly go.

“My perfect, dirty little wife,” He groaned with gravel; his voice lower than usual as it always was when you two became intimate. “Tell me how much you need me. Beg for me; only for me.” He had essentially begged, ironically so. But you knew he needed it; especially after you had invited that man over again knowing it would send him into a jealous rage that would inflict a pain onto you that you wanted and had attained oh so badly. 

Pushing your pelvis back into his as his rough fingers never left your core, you half lidded your eyes as you never tore your gaze from his. “You’re my husband, Al. My one and only for eternity. And I need my big strong husband to fuck his big strong cock into me; please. I need you more than anything, I always will.” You moaned every word eloquently despite his fingers testing your ability to coherently speak, and as you spoke, you could hear your husband’s groans grow louder and louder as his face fully flushed out.

He let a curse fall from his lips as he retracted his hands from you, leaving your core so empty but giving your chest a slight relief. Staying still in your position; because Alastor wouldn’t be happy if you moved, you looked at his form from behind you as he slipped his thick and heavy cock out from his trousers and slapped it against your ass, your cunt clenching around nothing as your drool naturally began to leave the corners of your mouth. “Please Al, please fuck me.” You whined as you pressed your rear against his hard cock, attempting to guide it towards your greedy sex. 

Gripping both of his fingers into the fat of your hips, Alastor granted your wish as he forced his cock to intrude within your folds. Crying out from his length filling out the space within your wet slick, Alastor grunted ever so vocally as he bottomed out. 

Still looking back at him, you tried to push yourself off of him to cause friction as your husband simply stilled himself inside of you; as if he was basking in the simplicity of just having your walls simply hug onto his beautifully curved cock. Etching his nails into your skin, he prevented you from moving as he panted. “Tell me you want me, darling.” He whispered as he kept his grip on you.

Staring at him with adoration you gave into his pathetically beautiful request. “I want my handsome husband, Alastor; I want him to fuck me. Now.” You groaned before your husband pulled away from you, only to ram his cock so deep into you that his entire tip intruded your cervix. Screaming, you kept your head facing sideways so you could look up at your beautiful husband from the corner of your eyes as he battered his cock relentlessly into you with a roughness that was typical of him.

Without needing his fingers, Alastor began to caress your clit with every thrust he plummeted into you as his heavy balls continuously swatted against your pulsing bud, granting it the friction you desired. Crying out screams of pleasure as your husband wrapped his hands around your wrists, only to pull your arms back and forcing your upper body to lift off the mattress, you begged for him to go harder; something you didn’t even know was entirely possible due to how harsh his thrusts already were, but your husband always had his ways of surprising you.

Screaming your moans at the top of your lungs, your whole body jolted forward with every intense thrust your husband inflicted onto your cunt, forcing the arch in your back to curve more and more as he continued to pull your arms toward him. And as the harsh slapping of skin echoed throughout the room, you could feel your husband's sweat drip onto your back before he quickly slapped his strong but slim forearms around your breasts; pulling your back into his chest as his arms caused friction against the drying wound he had carved into you just moments ago. Looking down as your husband fucked you, you could see the imprint of blood that spelt out your husbands name backwards. 

Turning your head, you pressed your lips against Alastor's hollowed cheek, only to swipe your tongue against his face; forcing his thrusts to become stuttered. Meeting his lips against yours, he attempted to kiss you, to engage in a soft intimacy as he fucked you with pure passion, but as his tongue attempted to enter mouth, you grasped your lips around the dark pink muscle, only to suck on it with vigour.

Alastor's thrusts stuttered erratically as his eyes rolled back from the erotic sucking you were enacting on his tongue; forcing him into a premature ejaculation. You wanted to moan, wanted to cry out as you felt your husband's arms tightened even harsher against your upper body as his wet cum spilled into your cervix, yet you opted not to, continuing to suck his tongue throughout his orgasm instead.

Letting go of his tongue as his cum ceased to fill your core, your husband panted hard. His arms slowly lowered your upper half against the mattress as he refused to leave your sex despite his cock going softer; but you weren’t done, not until he had allowed you to cum. 

Causing him to groan, you bounced your ass against his pelvis; stroking his softening overstimulated cock with your cum filled cunt. You could feel his teeth grit together as his nose scrunched up against your shoulder as you thrust yourself against him.

Placing his hand against your spine, your husband erected his back so he was leaning over your form once more; his hand gliding against your skin as his cock grew hard once again as you continued to move your pelvis against him, your ass bouncing with every thrust. Alastor did nothing as he watched you fuck your self against him, only gripping his fingers into your skin as he simply moaned from your ministrations. 

Turning your head once more so you could watch your husband as you speared yourself on his cock, you couldn’t deny how ethereal he looked; his eyes blown out, his glasses near enough falling off his face as his hair stuck against his beautiful features from the sweat he had produced. 

You didn’t know how long you had pushed yourself against him, but you knew it had to be a while as your sweat dripped harshly against the mattress below you, forcing the covers to become damp. But you couldn’t stop, you were so close to cumming on his cock as his balls continued to brush against your clit; and as your moans began to increase as your peak began to grow, your thighs tensed in a shake whilst your eyes never left your husband. “You’re so fucking beautiful, my darling wife.” He groaned before his fingers quickly pressed against your clit as he pulled himself out of you; your orgasm snapping as you came all over your husband's hand and not his cock, which he kneaded between your cheeks. Your orgasm only continued to release further as you began to feel Alastor's cum splatter against the entire length of your back; dressing it with his glistening sperm.

As your orgasm halted, you laid limp against the bed as your husband's sweat continued to drip along your back; now mixing in with the liquid of his reproductive organs. Panting, you began to relax ever so slightly before Alastor shoved his semi hard on back into you, causing you to cry in overstimulation. 

With a begging cry, you pleaded to your husband to give you a minute to rest; just one minute. “You wanted me so badly that you invited that disgusting man into our house just so I’d carve my name into your beautiful, perfect skin,” He groaned into your ear as he slammed himself into you. “And now you think you can just run away from me?” He scoffed as he licked his tongue against your neck.

Groaning, you shut your eyes as you begged once again for barely a moment to relax before he wrapped his hand against your mouth.

“Hush up now, darling, you can take it; because you’re my perfect little wife, aren’t you?”

»»------► 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

[witchofhimring]

Being the daughter of Daemon Targaryen

Daemon x reader (platonic)

I will split this into four different parts depending on who the mother is (Laena, Rhae, Mysaria, Rhaenyra)

Your relationship with Daemon really depends on who your mother is. Although I think he would love his daughter regardless of who the mother is, your relationship will still differ depending on who she is.

Mysaria:

- As his first born you hold a special place in his heart. Daemon keeps you in a mansion with your mother. Despite your bastardy he still has you educated. And anyway, he planned to have you legitimated in time. Unlike with his other wives (except Rhea) there will be a battle between your parents on who has the most influence. Daemon will bring you up to be a true Valyrian. But Mysaria does not agree with everything he does and do the two will argue.

- ‘I will not have my daughter riding those beasts.’ Mysaria stood over Daemon. Although she was not ignorant as to the threat he could pose, Mysaria felt very strongly about her daughter riding a dragon. She had always been a careful woman. Ever since she was a little girl who endured her father’s abuse Mysaria had known how to survive. And when her daughter was born she swore you too would be safe. That meant, for Mysaria; No. Fucking. Dragon. Daemon sat hunched in his chair. He was tired but equally determined. ‘She is a Valyrian. Whatever the circumstances of her birth are.’ Standing in the doorway you watched nervously. You hated listening to your parents fight. Quietly, you slunk into the darkness.

- Unfortunately this will result in Daemon taking you from Mysaria once their relationship is over. This causes a lot of tension and your relationship with him will change. It is hard being away from your mother for so long. Daemon takes you with him wherever he goes. He will try to be more stationary for your benefit. And the word is "try". Life is both tough and fun. Constantly moving around made it hard to make long lasting friends. But Daemon will do fun things such as going to the market, dragon riding and buying items for any hobby you are into. Mysaria finds secret ways to contact you without Daemon's knowledge. You sort of lead a double life with both parents.

-Your mother's most recent letter was quickly slid under the pillow as your bedroom door opened. Your father stepped in holding a wooden box. Curiously you asked what was in the box. Daemon opened it and inside you found cloth and sewing needles. With a smile you took it and went through the materials. Daemon had a small smile on his face as his daughter rummaged through everything. He did not really understand your love of sewing but he was happy to provide the materials.

-You do get a dragon. Daemon lobbies hard for you to have a dragon and for a while Viserys says no. Not because he doesn't think you deserve one but because of your status (this is before you are legitimated). This changes when Rhaenyra had her first born and Daemon will snidely make remarks when Viserys brings up your bastardy. Eventually Viserys relents. Your dragon is called Saephrin, a thin green scaled creature who is called the Sky Snake. He is very fast an nimble. You spent a lot of time in the cave and riding Saephrin. Daemon likes to ride beside you on nice day. The dragons do keep some distance between each other since Caraxes can get a bit snappy around the younger dragon. These outings usually end in picnics and going to far off places.

-Higher and into the sky you climbed. Wind whistled past your ears, wind whipping hair around. Just behind you was Daemon on Caraxes. Above the clouds you flew looking at the ground bellow. The house you lived in had become a simple blip on the ground. The ache in your thighs felt good. Riding on dragon back brought you more satisfaction than anything else. Showing off you father burst up from a sea of clouds, sending white mist everywhere. Despite your vision being temporarily obscured you were not scared. Daemon was an expert dragon rider, you were in no danger. Your dragon let out a wiry cry and you dove. Leaning back you could see the ground bellow you coming nearer. You looked up to find Daemon still circling above. Saephrin then extended his wings and you were shot back into the air. With a whoop of laughter you went to meet him in the sky.

Rhea:

-Daemon would not allow Rhea to raise you. Despite him belief in Valyrian supremacy you are still a Targaryen. He will use his position as a prince to limit contact between Rhea and yourself. This leads to some tension between Daemon and Viserys, who feels your place is in Runestone. In this scenario Daemon is in Runestone more often. There is a back and forth between who has more influence. Daemon will try to distance you from Andal influences and Rhea vise vera. This leaves you feeling constantly torn.

-Their voices echoed down the hall to where you sat alone. By all rights you should be in bed already. If anyone were to find you out there would be trouble. One would think that years of this would harden you to your parents constant fights. 'My daughter will not be taking part in your filthy Valyrian traditions! I am only glad that she has no brother for you to force her to fuck.' You could almost see your fathers reaction in your mind. There was the sound of a physical altercation and you buried yourself deeper into the shadows. You were not sure when the fight ended. Only that your father slunk through the hall and you hardly dared to breath as he walked past. Once you were sure both parents were gone you wandered the halls.

-A dragon egg is given to you by Daemon upon birth. The pearl coloured egg hatches and a light pink dragon is born, named Willow. You grew close to the dragon and liked to bring her into your playroom. Whenever she was separated from you a tantrum resumed on both ends. You could not live without Willow. Your father would becomes a less present figure om your life. For a while life grew slightly easier. At least no parents were fighting. And so a quiet existence descended. Your mother taught you to hunt and command a falcon. By her hand you sat at council meetings. One day you would become Lady of Runestone and command these people. Unlike many other women, even high born ones, you would be permitted to wield power without the say so of a man. When your mother died Daemon came back for you. He tried to take you from Runestone but the lords protested. Swallowing his rage, Daemon would fly between his residences and Runestone. He was more involved now. because of your position Daemon would teach you battle strategy and swordplay. Daemon was determined to make you a proper ruling lady.

-'Block!' Daemon's sword came down from ahead and you only just blocked it. He did not relent with each blow, causing witnesses to shoot mistrusting looks. While Daemon was not being gentle there was a method to this. The world was not kind to women especially women who took the places men more often occupied. You must become strong enough to defend your own. And Daemon had a feeling war was not too far off. Daemon felt Rhea had been a poor teacher. He would not have some docile Andal lily for a daughter. Gods damn it you were a Targaryen. Each strike was used to test your ability. Eventually the sword was knocked aside. 'Dead.' Daemon pointed the sword to your chest. The he heaved you to your feet. 'Good.' Daemon was not one to hand out compliments. But you had done very well and made much progress. You gave him a small smile.

-Once you are older Daemon will have you visit him on Dragonstone. You never knew your first step mother Laena as you were too young to fly to Pentos on dragon back. But by the time he married Rhaenyra you were older and Dragonstone was closer. You would fly in on Willow and spend time with your father and the new editions. Your relationship with Rhaenyra is alright. She had always wanted a daughter but she remembers you are the daughter of Rhea and that always unsettles Rhaenyra. You like Baela and Rhaena well enough. Daemon is happy when you arrive. Even if he has a hard time showing it. As the eldest you are given the most responsibility. He has you informed of the comings and goings of political situation, and you help the Blacks keep ties with house Arryn. He places a lot of trust in you.

-You had come in late that night on Willow. Inwardly groaning with exhaustion you climbed off the dragon and staggered towards the castle. Your father was there to greet you. Nodding in acknowledgment Daemon turned and beckoned you inside. This might have been considered cold for a father, but from Daemon this was "warm", in his way. You followed him inside and he allowed you to quickly wipe down, change and eat. By the fire both of you sat till Daemon deemed you settled in enough. 'How are you unruly men?' He had never taken to the people of Runestone. 'They are just fine father.' You did not like your father talking like this. It made you feel unfaithful to those you lead. 'Good, and the Arryns?' He said this with less skepticism. 'I think if it comes to war they will side with us. Lady Jeyne Arryn was no love for Otto Hightower or his ilk.' 'Good.' He grunted. For a while the pair of you talked of these things until Daemon sent you to bed. As you got up he patted you on you shoulder. 'You've done well.'

Laena:

-You are born a year after Baela and Rhaena in Pentos. At the time Laena and Daemon were traveling Essos so you did not have a permeant home. Despite not living in Westeros at the time you were still a Targaryen, one of only a few. There were already discussions about your future. Daemon preferred for his family to remain in Westeros, perhaps you could marry a Pentoshi prince. Laena on the other hand would rather you marry into Westerosi aristocracy. You, along with your two sisters are brought up to be noblewomen like your mother. On the other hand Daemon is interested in teaching Valyrian ancestry and swordplay. His interest will hinge on how much you are like him. This does not mean Daemon does not love his children. But he does show more interest in his children who are dragon riders. Daemon is largely unaware of the effect it had on his children (i.e. Rhaena). Like your sisters you will get a dragon egg. It eventually hatches, but it takes a while.

-Daemon did not normally feel uncomfortable, especially around his own children. Last week his youngest daughter's dragon had hatched, a small grey think with spikey scales running up its neck. He had been undeniably proud of his daughter. Three years had passed since his now ten year old daughter had received her egg as name-day present from Viserys. Daemon had lost hope that her dragon would hatch. he would check if the two dragon eggs resting in the fireplace had hatched. Now only Rhaena's egg rested there. Y/n was sitting alone by the see with Kaeros on her lap. One day that dragon not be small like a kitten, but larger than any one of them. Daemon took a seat beside her. 'Your dragon hatched.' He felt foolish for posing such a silly question. Y/n would be a dragon rider and carry out the Targaryen traditions. Y/n shrugged her shoulders but said nothing. For a while they awkwardly sat beside one another till Y/n headed in.

-After Laena's death the family headed back to Westeros. Daemon married Rhaenyra and Dragonstone became home. It was very different from the warmth and vibrancy of Pentos. During this time Daemon and you became closer, although some distance remained. Because you were a little older the subject of marriage became prevalent. Daemon is very picky about who your future husband will be, only a Valyrian will be accepted. When your half brothers are born you become closer to Daemon. Sometimes the two of you will play with the children in their nursery.

-Baby Aegon totted on his legs towards you .A few spaces away at your father, newborn Viserys on his lap. 'The babies are staying with us, right?' Daemon looked up from his youngest. 'Of course.' 'Oh. I just thought that you might send them to be fostered with their future betrotheds family.' Daemon looked at you confused. 'What gave you that impression?' Shrugging, you replied; 'Just what your doing with me.' Daemon only looked more bewildered. 'I...we have no intentions sending you away.' Daemon had no idea why you had this idea. What he did not understand was the empty pit widening in your soul. This feeling of loneliness that threatened to devour you. All your life you had felt like an extension of the Targaryen name. You did not realize how deeply your father loved you. While the gap had somewhat lessened over time there were still things left unsaid. Then Daemon, for reasons you did not know, he set Viserys in his crib and got up. In a moment he was by your side. In an unexpected motion Daemon brought you into a hug. Not merely one in greeting or goodbye, but along, warm one. Gently you rested your head on his shoulder.

-As war broke over Westeros the dynamic between Daemon and yourself changed. You were his youngest daughter, too young to fight. He may have pride but even Daemon balked at the idea of sending his youngest, untested daughter into war. In the past few years your relationship improved greatly. The two of you had grown closer. But was would rip the two of you apart, forever.

-It was already unsettling enough to send Baela out to war, and have Rhaena so far away. You were to remain at Dragonstone. Not completely out of loop but not at the front like Baela. It made you taste bitterness. Why could he not see you were ready! Now was the time you should be tested. Your father had gone on and on about Targaryen pride. But here you were as cupbearer. Of course he preferred Baela to you, to Rhaena. As your father got ready to take Harrenhal you were hiding by a window, too angry to speak. At these moments you felt no more than a sulky child. 'Y/n.' Startled, you got up to see your father, fully plated in armor, coming forward. 'I'm heading out.' 'I know.' You replied. Standing there you did not know whether to say goodbye. Silently you feared for him. War was an ugly thing. 'I will send for you when the time comes.' This surprised you. 'Really?' Daemon let the ghost of a smile come across his lips. 'You are my daughter. A Targaryen. You belong with us.' Tears welled up in your eyes. Deep down you think; 'One day I will tell father I love him.' This was the last time you would see your father.

Rhaenyra: (au where Rhaenyra wins the war, Visenya survives and is your older sister)

-Daemon felt rather old when you came into the world. You had been born well after they thought Rhaenyra past childbirth. He was not sure how he felt about this newest edition. Having another child was no bad thing, but he just felt too hold. Although Daemon was still in good health he was no longer a young man. His joints had started to ache from long years of battle. This did mean he spent lots of time with you. He watched his youngest roll around in her cradle. There was some joy to be found in reading to you. This continued as you grew, learning stories of your family and Old Valyria. Soehow this gave Daemon some peace, and the pair of you grew close.

-Daemon was no stranger to fatherhood. As a father of three girls and two boys (not including Rhaenyra's children) this new baby was no surprise. What had struck Daemon was how very old he was. Now in his fifties Daemon found it a bit astounding to be this old and a father. If fact Daemon never though he would reach such an age. Men as reckless as the King Consort rarely lived to see such an age. Yet here we was, older and with knees that already started to ache. In the cradle was his youngest and likely last child. Y/n was fast asleep, wrapped up in a blanket. Daemon was not a sort man, and perhaps not the warmest father. But he did love his children. One finger reached in and the baby's hand shot out. With all her little might Y/n grasped him. her wide eyes met his and she gave him a toothless grin. Something warm stirred in daemon's head. "I'm becoming a sort old fool.' Daemon thought.

-Daemon read by the fire as you dozed off in bed. This was your favourite part of the day. When night had fallen and you listened to his soft voice lull you to sleep. Tonight he read of Queen Rhaenys, second wife to King Aegon. Even though your mother and sister preferred Queen Visenya you always admired Rhaenys's love for the arts. Out of all her siblings Rhaenys loved her dragon Meraxes best. You had named your own dragon after hers. Mother has tried to talk you out of it but to no avail. Your father continued to read stories of Targaryens long gone.

-'This one." You demanded. It was the end of the day and Daemon had come up to read. Already you were in bed with a book one your lap. Daemon was pleased to see it was about House Targaryens, the best house in all the realm (totally not a biased opinion). Sitting down Daemon picked up the book and flipped to chapter one. 'Not there.' You passed several chapters until landing on the one titled "Queen Rhaenys". Aegon the Conqueror's second wife had never truly captured his attention, not that he had anything against her. But you were his little girl and Daemon was more willing to capitulate in his older ager.

-Despite his advanced age Daemon will expect you to be well educated. The best teachers will be found. You will learn history, Valyrian, astronomy, philosophy, writing and much more. He sees no reason for you being female as a reason a child of his should not be well read. You share classes with Visenya and sometimes Viserys and Aegon. Sometimes Daemon will ask you to show him what you have learned. His interests mainly lye in Valyrian history so he will ask you to show him what it is you have learned. When all his daily duties are finished Daemon will sometimes listen to you talk about everything you have read that day. Even if it is not things he is particularly interested in. As he gets older Daemon becomes more sentimental and focuses more on his family.

-A quiet afternoon was upon Kings Landing. Daemon had just gotten out of a long meeting and was glad for it. he was sore all over from sitting so long and walked, alone, to take the edge off. His walking did have an aim. Y/n, his youngest, would be out of the schoolroom by now. Loneliness was not a feeling Daemon was well acquainted with. But with Rhaenyra gone to the North and Visenya being a ward of House Baratheon, Daemon found himself lacking family members. Jacaerys and Baela had gone on tour in the West, Rhaena gone to see her Arryn friends. The other children were being wards elsewhere. daemon finally arrived outside the schoolroom. he remembered days when he and Viserys were sometimes tutored here. Just as he arrived Y/n burst out. 'Daddy!' Y/n gave her father a great hug. Daemon ruffled her messy hair before inquiring what she had learned today. As she chattered away they found themselves in the courtyard. Under the Weirwood they sat together. Sunlight beat down upon them, Daemon finally relaxed.

[nonchalantlucy]

Introducing....

LOSER-SUB!CHRIS STURNIOLO X DOM!READER

warnings: smut, edging kink, masturbation, sub male, slight degradition kink, losing NNN, overstimulation, oral sex (male recieving), use of y/n, little to no plot, pet names, NOT PROOF READ

details: DOM!READER will be using SHE/HER pronouns. chris lives with his girlfriend, y/n, who works at the local pet store. one day, she comes home early to find chris in a very compromising situation.

a/n: hi lovelies!! thank you for voting on my poll. as you can see, this story won! if you would still like to see the matt story, let me know!! this is my first time writing in MONTHS, so excuse me if it's bad... ENJOY!!

You walked into your apartment, noticing all the lights out. You know Chris is home, You saw his car outside, and it's only 6:00.

You slide your shoes off and walk deeper into the familiar darkness, placing your purse and jacket on the couch.

You stumble towards the hallway, tripping slightly on a cord. You come to a halt outside of yours and Chris's shared room.

You reach for the handle, turning it to open the door slightly. You stop in your tracks, the door not even halfway open when you hear a quiet whimper.

You peek your head around the door and into the room, seeing Chris lying on the bed. One arm is draped over his face, his head thrown back into the pillows. The other hand is rather low, stroking a quite intimate area very rapidly.

You step into the room fully, slightly mesmerized at the sight. You couldn't help but giggle quietly, which Chris hears.

His arm shoots off his head, grabbing the blanket and throwing it over himself as he sits up. His eyes glued to you.

"Babe, your home early..."

He speaks awkwardly, shying away under the blanket.

"That I am. What were you doing?"

You speak teasingly, walking towards the bed slowly. You know what he was doing, and he knows you know

"Nothing babe."

"Oh, so jerking yourself is nothing?"

"Shut up.."

"Weren't you bragging to Nate about how your gonna win NNN?"

"And I will. Its No NUT November, doesnt mean I can't touch myself."

"Hmm, I think I could make you lose."

You say, sitting down next to him, your hand snaking under the blanket and resting on his thigh.

"As if. I have more self control then that."

Chris speaks in a tone of courage, but the shudder his body gives and the quiet gasp he lets out says otherwise.

"Is that...a challenge?"

You speak, gently lifting the blanket off of him and crawling over him, hovering.

"Maybe."

As soon as the word left his mouth, you wasted no time. Your lips fly down, attacking his, as your hand snakes down his body to his most intimate member.

You wrap your finger around his cock, gently, causing him to gasp into the kiss. When his lips part, your tounge subconsciously shoots into his mouth, exploring it.

You begin to move your hand up and down, slowly. Your long nails, which he had paid for, adding extra sensation.

You slowly pull your lips off his, before moving them down to his neck. Leaving little bruises all over it, being sure to bite his most sensitive spot.

"Y/n.."

He gasps out your name, his hips bucking involuntarily up into your hand.

"Shh, be quiet for me.."

You mumble against his neck.

Your stroking gets faster, and his whimpers get louder.

"Y/n, Im gonna cum!"

Chris cries out, and you immediately stop the movement.

He lets out a whine and looks down at you, giving a questioning look.

You pull away from his neck, looking up at him.

"Wouldnt wanna lose, now would you?"

You smirk, crawling back up and kissing him.

This kiss is long and passionate, as he cups your cheek. Your tounges danced together in a loving fight. The heat between your bodies matching the flame of the sun.

Your hand moves back down, starting the stroking slowly. Teasing the tip of his cock, before speeding up slightly.

You pull away from the kiss, staring down at him. Watching as his eyebrows furrow, and his head tilts back slightly.

His lips pressed into a thin line, a slight sweat on the edges of his mouth. His eyes squeezed shut.

You begin moving your hand faster.

His mouth falls open, groans falling out one after another, and his head jerks back further.

You can tell hes close. So,

You stop your hand movmemt, earning a whine from him. You give him a sharp look, shutting him up before he has a chance to protest.

You climb off the bed, getting on your knees at the edge. You open your mouth to give commands, but before you can Chris is already positioned infront of you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Little slut."

You mumble, before kissing the tip of his length. He lets out a quiet whimper, before responding. Or atleast, attempting to respond.

"Im not a slu- ahh!"

His words cut off, and blend into a moan as your wrap your lips around his tip. Your tounge flicks the very top as you move your mouth lower.

He throws his head back, a stream of curses, moans, and grunts leave his mouth as your work your magic.

You push your mouth as far down and deep you can go. Taking almost all his length in your mouth. What you cant take, your hand is tightly wrapped around it and twisting.

This throws him over the edge, his head falls back as he attempts to pull away from you.

"Please, im gonna.."

Before he can finish his sentence, you feel a string of warmth fly into your mouth and down your throat. It was a salty taste, but you swallowed it all nonetheless.

You dont pull your mouth way however. You keep going.

Sucking, and bobbing your head up and down.

"To much, to much"

Chris cries out, but his hand that has found its way to your hair eggs you on, pushing your face towards him as his hips buck up into your mouth.

Whimpers upon whimpers leave his mouth, and even faster then the first time he releases in your mouth once again.

You pull away, after swallowing it of course, and look up at him.

"Loser."

"Shut the fuck up."

hope you enjoyed it ! its not the best and kinda short, but its what i got ! let me know if you have any requests !!!

[amourtoken]

yes PLEASE write about quinn knocking you up and also please never stop writing smut i feel FERAL

I got a couple asks about this so let me roll them all into one here yall are horny unhinged individuals together now

Quinn is unfortunately insanely susceptible to baby fever. He can't help himself, the thought of having a little extended family to provide for is sweet enough on its own but getting there is what he's really been focused on recently. He cannot clear his mind of the idea at all and it's starting to effect every aspect of his life. His thoughts are always frenzied and his brain fuzzy, he can barely focus on the ice and you constantly catch him zoned out and have to draw his attention back to you. What's he even thinking about?

This all started after he saw you interacting with some kids at a charity event. He didn't think it'd be a personal attack on his psyche to see you leaning down to their level so they felt more included while you chatted about your days or whatever random thoughts of theirs that sprung to mind. They all seemed so happy in your presence and you've always just naturally been great with kids so it's no surprise to you, but Quinn instantaneously fell victim to the infectious thought process of parenthood.

all he's thought about for days is how pretty you'd look pregnant and how good of a parent you'd be. Would your kids have your smile? Your eyes? Hopefully they had your sweet personality at the very least. You two could be the overly supportive cheesy hockey parents when your kid got a little older too, if they took after him and wanted to play. Quinn would fall down these hour long rabbit holes in his own mind of what your future would look like with an addition to the family and it was becoming more and more of a necessity every day.

Eventually it gets to a point where he can't fucking contain it anymore and he lets the idea slip while he's got you pinned to the mattress below him.

Quinn's fingers are holding your hips tight enough to bruise while he's buried inside you, panting praises and explicit compliments against your neck in rhythm with his thrusts. He can't get the image of you all pretty and pregnant out of his brain at all, the only thing keeping him from it is a thin latex and a question really. He didn't wanna ruin the moment but it was out of his control at this point, the need overtaking critical thinking skills.

"Fuck- please let me put a baby in you- shit- p-please- c-can't stop thinkin' about it- fuck i need it so bad...'m sorry-"

His voice sounded so broken, moans and whines cutting through his words against his will. You had no idea he felt this way and fuck you wish he'd said something sooner because you've been going through the same misery he has. For the same reason. The same exact event that permeated his peace with the idea of kids with you was the one that had you dizzy thinking about him being a dad. Safe to say your communication skills were lacking during this cause both of you were afraid to ask but now that you're on the same page? You're in for it.

You respond enthusiastically, nodding quickly and immediately pleading for him to do just that. Quinn's chest fluttered at your whined pleas and as much as it pained him to pull out in the moment it was definitely worth it to sink back into you raw. He wanted this to last forever but the way you felt so fucking warm and wet around him was ultimately his undoing, much to his own protest. He didn't wanna finish without dragging you along either, his thrusts fell out of rhythm as he snaked a hand between your bodies to circle your clit, trying his best to take you with him.

"Shit- you're gonna be so pretty- fuck- god I'm so fuckin' lucky-"

Your nails sunk into his shoulders as you pulled him closer, legs shaking as you tipped off the edge of your orgasm with a whine of his name. He almost immediately followed you, hands gripping behind your knees to fold you in half under him, allowing him to sink deeper than before. Quinn's vision blurred with black spots and his voice pitched up into whiney pleas as he filled you up, finally getting what's plagued him for fucking weeks now. Doesn't matter if this was the time that did it or not, he was dead set on fucking you full of his cum over and over and over until you got the results you both wanted (and then some extra for good measure ofc)

[philistiniphagottini]

Zephyr's Bliss

thinking about hot dragon men lately and I am down so bad for them. ((if people like this, then I'm so willing to do more of this kind of stuff with the other dragon men ;) ))

cw. penetrative sex, double penetration, oviposition, light breeding kink, gn! reader, MDNI

nsfw below the cut

"You’re doing so well, Dan Heng" you softly praised.

He took a deep breath, pointed ears twitching forward at the sound of your sweet voice whispering to him. You brushed your hands along his flaming cheeks, the skin burning brightly under the gentle caress of your hands. His jade eyes sought yours, pupils narrowed into thin slits as he gazed into eyes just as dazed as your mind. A pleasant shiver rippled down your spine as he rutted his hips forward, slowly sinking both of his draconic cocks further into your tight, creamy hole. A breathy whine of his name escaped your parted lips as your eyelashes fluttered over your searing skin, eyes threatening to slip close from the spike of pleasure rippling across your naked flesh.

A shiver crept down Dan Heng’s back as you tangled your hand in long, soft locks of ebony hair, curious fingers poking the ridged edges of his glowing horns. They glowed faintly in the dim lighting of the room, the effervescent glow dancing along Dan Heng’s pale flesh and highlighting his handsome features. Another breathy whine fell from Dan Heng’s parted lips as he nudged his cocks deeper into you, the fat heads brushing against your soft spots and causing stars to waver in your vision. You hummed softly beneath him, legs tangled loosely around his waist as you slanted your hips forward, gently rocking yourself to the rhythm of his thrusts as he buried himself deeper into your snug walls.

"So tight" Dan Heng panted, his hot breath puffing against your perspiring skin. "You feel so good."

He nuzzled his face into your chest, lazily spreading more of his scent over you as his drooling cocks ravished your insides until a white, creamy ring formed around the base where your bodies were joined in fervid rapture. You scratched your nails along his scalp, feeling his cocks throbbing in unison inside you as your lidded eyes watched him move intimately beneath your skin, the soft bump in your stomach tempting you to smooth your hands over your swollen abdomen. You smiled softly as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear, lips ghosting over his skin as you kissed his damp forehead.

"You’re so deep" you sighed against his skin.

Dan Heng’s arms snaked around your waist as he pulled you closer, nose pressed against your skin as he smothered himself in your scent. The intoxicating smell curled in his lungs with each deep breath he took, threatening to consume him as the tension in his stomach grew taut. His hot breath was trapped against your skin as he tasted you on the tip of his tongue, swallowing thickly as his hips started to rut a little faster into you, instincts driving his body higher and higher with need.

"Are you sure about this?" Dan Heng asked for the umpteenth time this evening. "Are you sure…about taking my eggs?"

You offered him a soft smile as he peered up at you, desperate eyes pleading for an answer as his tail coiled around your leg. The smooth scales tickled your skin as it twisted between your parted thighs, the tip swishing and tangling in the sweat-soaked sheets beneath you. You pecked his damp forehead again with your lips, hands cupping his cheeks as you nodded your head in reassurance.

"I’m sure" you replied.

You drummed your fingers along his skin as you placed a lazy kiss on his chin. "Besides, it’s a little bit late since you’re already buried balls deep in me" you added.

Dan Heng’s face erupted with heat, causing a soft chortle to stir in your chest at the flustered look he gave you. He huffed loudly; eyes narrowed as his teeth suddenly pinched the damp skin of your chest in retaliation. You jolted beneath him as his sharp teeth sank into the areola of your sensitive chest, tongue flat against a pert nipple as he sucked harshly on the puckered skin.

"Ouch! It was a joke! I’m sorry!" you squealed.

A playful growl stirred in his chest as you coaxed him off you, a pretty bite mark left behind as he popped off your skin. Your lips brushed against the tip of his nose as you loosely coiled your arms around his neck, feet pushing into the beautiful dip of his back as you coaxed him to sink his cocks further into you. Your blood simmered hotly in your veins every time your mind wandered back to the thought of your boyfriend filling you with his eggs, his cute belly swollen with his clutch as the rut of his hips refused to cease. Your sex ached as he buried himself inside your creamy walls, dragging his draconic cocks over every sensitive nerve ending and setting your teeth on edge. The tips of your fingers felt numb as you raked your nails along his shoulders, digging the sharp talons in when another hot, spike of pleasure drenched your entire being as the coil inside of you threatened to snap at any moment. Dan Heng moaned sweetly, his sharp claws scratching at your skin as your plush thighs tensed around his waist.

Your teeth gently tugged at his ear, playing with the earring dangling from the lobe as another sweet noise stirred in his throat from your ministrations. His jaw tensed; brows furrowed in concentration as the boiling heat bubbling inside of him threatened to snap the fraying edges of his sanity. He couldn’t wrap his head around how warm and tight you were, throbbing walls clamping down on him and trying to coax everything he had to offer. You fit together perfectly, like a matching pair of puzzle pieces, incomplete without the other. His mind started to swirl with the thoughts of laying his eggs inside your fertile body. There was a small doubt that he could rear young, but with you, he was willing to believe in a miracle.

You shuddered beneath Dan Heng as you felt a knot start to form at the base of his cock, the bulge pushing incessantly at your sopping hole and begging to fill you. You pulled on the baby hairs at the nape of his neck, taking deep, shuddering breaths as you tried to relax the tension in your muscles. Your eyes slipped shut as you moaned softly, feeling Dan Heng’s teeth nipping at your throat. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your hips, dipping into the pretty dip of your v-line as his hips nudged into yours. Your toes curled as his cocks pulsed periodically inside your soused walls, teeth digging into your supple flesh as you writhed so exquisitely beneath him. His tail tensed around your thigh, thumping hard into the mattress as the tension reached breaking point. He hissed through clenched teeth as he swallowed thickly, kiss swollen lips parting around your name as his voice grew breathy.

"Can’t hold back" he whispered hoarsely. "Gonna cum…"

Your legs squeezed tighter around his slender waist as you rubbed your hands along his shoulders, trying to ease the tension from his body as he teetered on the edge.

"It’s okay Dan Heng" you encouraged. "You can let go. Please, breed your little mate full of your eggs."

Your tempting words had the tension inside of him snapping in an instance, the knot at the base of his cock finally slipping into you with one last snap of his hips. You cried out, a constellation of tears brimming in your eyes as you were stretched to your absolute limit. A loud growl bubbled up the back of Dan Heng’s throat, his cocks kicking as he painted your insides with thick ropes of white. You squirmed beneath him as you were filled with delicious warmth, the searing heat making your eyes roll into the back of your head as your world exploded around you. Fireworks sparked in your stomach as Dan Heng continued to thrust his hips into you, the friction threatening to turn your bones into dust as you felt your hole stretching around the bulge of his cock.

Your lungs pinched in your chest, heart jumping up into your throat when you felt the first egg start to pierce your centre. You thrashed beneath him from the foreign feeling, eyes snapping open as you stared at the place where your bodies were joined. You felt every intimate movement of his cock as it pulsed inside of you, another thick load of his cum exploding inside of you as the egg was eased into you. Dan Heng hushed you gently as your back arched up into his touch, hands holding your hips steady as the first egg breached the deepest, most sacred parts of you.

"Shh, it’s okay" Dan Heng soothed. "You’re doing so well. It’s almost inside. Just breathe."

A wet sob was wrenched from your bruised lips as the egg nestled inside of you, your racing mind only quelled once you realised how comfortable the transition had been. You had worried briefly that the shell would have been hard and scrapped your insides, but it had been surprisingly soft, like leather.

"Just breathe" Dan Heng reminded you.

You released your baited breath, body slowly sinking back down to the mattress beneath you even as another egg knotted the base of Dan Heng’s cock. Another spurt of cum filled your sticky insides, followed quickly by another as a small bump began to form in your soft belly. Dan Heng smoothed his hand over your abdomen, his palm resting against your swelling stomach as he pushed another egg inside of you. His cheeks burned at the sight of your blissed out face, twisting with unadulterated rapture every time another egg joined the small clutch. Somewhere amidst the dizzying heat stuffing your aching hole you felt your orgasm take a hold of you, coil in your stomach unfurling as your veins were filled with white hot euphoria. Exhaustion quickly settled into your bones as you rode out the waves of your pleasure high, drenching the sheets beneath your tangled bodies as pearls of Dan Heng’s cum dribbled down your quaking thighs. 

You only managed to catch your breath once the last egg settled with the rest of its brood inside of you, pushed past the tight ring of muscles of your fluttering hole. Dan Heng’s lips were a soothing balm against your searing flesh, the small brush of his lips a welcome blessing as he whispered soft praises of your name.

"You did so well. I’m so proud, you took all of my eggs."

Each sentence was punctuated by a soft kiss of his lips, mouth trailing up to your face only to pepper it with more heated kisses. You giggled softly as Dan Heng hugged your sore body to his, wrapping around you like a protective blanket as he held you close. A deep purr rumbled in his chest as you brushed your lips back against his, his eyes shimmering with an affectionate look. His cocks kept your centre plugged and you couldn’t recall a time in your life when you had ever felt this full. You weaved your fingers through his hair as you shifted beneath him, trying to find a more comfortable position to lay in as his clammy skin stuck to yours. Dan Heng noticed your discomfort as he nudged his nose against your soft cheek, hands massaging your muscles as an apologetic look flashed across his features.

"I’m sorry, little love. We’re going to be stuck like this for a while. Just until the knot goes down."

You shrugged softly. "It’s okay."

You knew exactly what you were signing up for when you had agreed to this in the first place. You hummed pleasantly beneath him as he rubbed your swollen stomach, feeling his clutch of eggs pushing into his hand as he whispered soothing words to you.

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

THE PRICE OF YOUR FREEDOM 💦 TRAFALGAR LAW X GN! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 28: SHIBARI

🐙 requested by: Anonymous. Trafalgar Law for day 28 shibari? With gender neutral reader or fem reader it's fine. Can Law be the one who tied up instead the reader? ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. law is tied up. jerking off. exchanging "sex" for freedom. dominant gn! reader. maybe sex slave Law. 🐙 wc: 1,1k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

With cords around his wrists, the intruder hangs on a room that lacks light. Humid, even smelly. The walls reminds him of a dungeon, and, in fact, he is not wrong.

“They told me you were trying to sneak into my island, pirate” you spit, opening the doors that blind the intruder with a sudden burst of light coming through.

“Fuck you, bitch” he grunts. A man so handsome, covered in tattoos. His muscles are noticeable, he is lean, and his skin has a caramel tint. Oh, what an interesting prey your subordinates just caught.

“That is not the proper way to refer to me, sweet boy…” you giggle, coming closer to his body. Those tight jeans around long, long legs are delicious to look at. But the protruding hipbones are more. Your index reaches for his stomach; with abs spasming to your touch, he lets you know he is more than sensitive to it… oh, are you getting hard just by my simple touch?

“What are these tattoos, pirate? What do they mean?” you ask, coming even closer to his body. Your index still tracing up and around the curls of black ink, bumping with cords that also garnish his thorax.

He looks to the side, a golden hoop on his ear reflects the warm light of torches outside… he isn’t disclosing any good information.

“Ah… come on! Tell me something! I just wanna get to know you, I don’t really plan on hurting you… plus, I know your name… aren’t you…” you laugh, coming closer to his ear as you get on tippy toes and your palms rest on his chest. “…Trafalgar Law? Cooperate with me, come on… I know you are strong” you continue.

He immediately looks at you; he burns holes into your eyes with a glacial look that could freeze you up. An everlasting frown, sweet dark circles…

“What do you want?” he asks, this time serious and more annoyed than before.

You walk away, just a little, with your index closer to your lips and your eyes wondering the ceiling as you act like you are thinking about something.

“Mhh… I am not exactly sure, cause you know… I was just minding my own business when you appeared on the coast of my island… to be fair, you should be the one telling me…also, you looked pretty beaten up” you smirk, showing him something he hasn’t probably noticed yet; gauze patching up here and there, bruises all over, and dry blood that hasn’t been cleaned up properly yet.

Law knows, exactly, what had happened to him. Thing is, he won’t tell you. However, he is willing to negotiate; he is aware the cords aren’t simply cords and that they are, indeed, made of thousands of thin kairoseki filaments.

“Tell me, what do you want? I am willing to negotiate my freedom” he mutters; Law wants to be out of this situation as fast as possible. You smirk and then bite your lower lip; lust takes over, your body getting warmer, your skin bumpier.

“Well, I think you are delicious… what do you have for me? What is the cost of your freedom, Trafalgar Law?”

“Heh, are you that desperate you need to force men?” he asks -insults- you.

This time you scoff; a big smile that’s closer to a demon’s scares him a little bit. You come closer; you don’t walk, you seem to crawl like a venomous snake… with a swift motion, your hand lands on his hardness. A bulge that’s been getting more and more noticeable the more you spoke.

“Are you sure I am the desperate one? What’s with this, mh? Aren’t you a little bit too hard?” you ask into his ear, biting his earlobe right after.

Law gasps a little; probably he wasn’t ready for that sudden touch… but he wants more…

You pull from a cord that hangs behind him, lifting his whole body over the ground. Just a little, enough for his feet to barely graze the floor with the tip of his boots. The cords properly tied around his body carve into his flesh, causing Law to grimace in pain if any part would touch a bruise.

“Does it hurt, Law-san?” you inquire, sliding your index in between a cord and his skin at his ribs level.

“You want my body? Take it” he huffs, squirming when your hand reaches for his stomach from behind.

You smile; you were never using his body if he wasn’t expressly asking for it… With a bite on his side, and a hand sliding up his chest getting underneath the cords on his pecs, you give him what he had been asking for.

His jeans were easy to take off; those slid down and got tangled around his ankles. Boxer briefs of slightly funny heart patterns, show staining from precum sprouting and his sex, that throbs, awaits for your silky hands…

“You want my hands around your sex, Law-san?” you ask, kissing his neck with soft, butterfly pecks.

“That’s the price of my freedom?” he asks, slightly moving his hips back and forth.

“That’s something that is up to you to decide…” you giggle, sliding your hand into his underwear. Hot to the touch, wet and hard is how it feels… pulsating sex in between your hand, that has a little surprise right at the tip; a cold metallic ring.

As you begin to pump, pleased with the soft whimpering coming out of his mouth, his body moves with your jerking off delight; hanging from the ceiling, trembling, moving and with each move carving those debilitating ropes more and more into his caramel skin… ah, delicious!

Law’s boxer briefs also fall, and he wishes his whole body would also fall… his wrists, become redder and painful, the more he squirms to your touch.

You play with your palm on top of his tip, moving the little piercing, getting his gland more and more aroused. It’s so good to see this strong Yonko willing to fuck your hand, as he pays for his “freedom”.

So close, so close… so close until it bursts with grunts and not so manly whimpers… and you leave him there, dripping cum on the floor and into his pants.

“I’ll be back soon, Law-chan” “Free me, (Name)-ya!” “ah... you know my name? then I am sure you don’t want me to do it, right? A simple orgasm is not the price of your freedom… Trafalgar D. Water Law ~”

[bunniidollii]

trailerpark!rafe 🤝 spanking like need i say more

it was the small things that set you off, always leaving you in a bad mood for the rest of the day whilst rafe had to deal with your attitude. he tries his best to be patient, but when the whining turns full temper tantrum, he’s had enough and is quick to bend you over his knee. at home it’s easy, the car is risky yet still possible, but in public, you’d find yourself escorted (practically manhandled) to the nearest empty room. and that’s how you found yourself, mid summer bbq, hips uncomfortably trapped between the sink and your boyfriend’s form leaning over you. first it was because the dress you had planned on wearing turned out to have a massive stain all down the front. then rafe took too long getting ready, and you ended up late. they then ran out of veggie burgers, so you were stuck eating the squeaky halloumi while your boyfriend devoured his burger. a neighbour had made a comment about the length of your skirt, which left you snappy with anyone else who attempted to make conversation with you. it was after a nasty run in with your aunt who had never approved of your relationship, that led to rafe pulling you into the small downstairs bathroom. he was quick to flip up your skirt to expose your backside that was barely covered by the white lace you were wearing. his calloused hands pulled at the thin material, causing your hips to rise slightly to avoid the friction and a whine to leave your lips. a hand was placed over your mouth, and rafe tugged harder on your panties in response, before finally speaking.

“you havin’ fun embarrassin’ me out there, with all your whining— hey, don’t you go stomping your feet now” his gruff voice was cut off when you tried to do your usual attempt of retaliation by stomping your feet and whinging until rafe gave in. annoying him beyond extent always got you your way, while the little punishments to try and stop you only spurred you on.

“things weren’t going my way—” you were cut off by a sharp slap on your ass as rafe pulled your panties impossibly higher, with the friction against your clit causing you to let out a light moan. “things don’t always go your way, kiddo, you gotta learn to deal with that.” another slap as his free hand snaked around your throat, “cant be going round havin’ a big ol’ tantrum when something don’t end up how you wanted it to, s’not how real life works.”

rafe gave you another few slaps, leaving a blush of red subtle enough to not draw attention when you returned to the bbq. “you gonna stop being such a crybaby now, doll?” you were turned around, still wedged between your boyfriend and the counter, but facing him instead. he could see the tired look in your eyes and knew you were bordering past your social battery. you just latched your arms around his neck, rafe following your cue as he picked up your legs to wrap them around his waist, picking you up and setting you down on the counter. you just pawed at the collar of his shirt, not bothering to look up at him as you sank into his embrace. “gotta handle just an hour longer, and then we can head on home, alright? and we can forget all about today in a bit, i’ll take care of that, don’t you worry.”

“yes daddy” the familiar doe eyed look on your face as you stared up at rafe with nothing but adoration in your eyes.

“‘s rafe, baby” he reminded you before placing a quick peck on the lips as he helped you rearrange yourself to your former socially acceptable state. he guided the two of you out, and you stood happily by his side for the rest of the evening with the hope of rafe fucking you brainless when you got home.