#blaze x gold
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How would Blaze and Gold handle going on vacation? I figure they would go to Sonic's dimension for the peace and quiet... if it weren't for Eggman XD
It would be a very bureaucratic process imo LOL: firstly they would need to be convinced to take a (somewhat long) time for themselves, free from every responsability each one has, focus in enjoy and relax only... Not something they're used to think of, it sounds very much like a jump off their comfort zones (too stressful for comfort of course, but the zones they're used to *fingers guns*)
Then comes something that happens to be a lot harder than they could ever predict: define a destination, after all they have 3 worlds to choose (4 if we count Gold's world being somehow restored), each one with breath taking views, exciting mysteries and charming enviroments of their own, which one should they choose?? It's not like they know when they'll be able to do it again, so they are deadset in choose the best dimension for vacation (They could as well do some Dimension Hoping Vacation⢠XD... ...but then by which one to start??)
Maybe in the end Sonic's world seems to be the best option for their first vacation as a couple: more landmasses than Blaze's world, there are more civilizations around than in Silver's world and the majority of their friends live in there (lots of bias favouring that dimension LOL) and can suggest places to visit + it's not the world where they have all their responsability, it seems all win, what could go wrong? (Eggman... They forgot Eggman... And he showed up... And is always happy to torment an enemy XD but it's not like a mad doctor would be enough to ruin their time together <3) (Maybe if he unleashed some new eldritch being maybe đđ)
#thanks for the ask!#if they chose Blaze's world tho... Gold would get seasick in the travels from one island to another... becuz i said so hehehehe#she would hate it initially... but Blaze would be so dedicated and tender in taking care of her đ#go in vacation out of Onyx City would be a surprise box... a nice adventure? the most terrorizing event?? a new species discovered?#other civilizations? hostile societies?? peaceful societies?#it all could happen together in the dimension hoping option đđ#in Gold's world though... could be a moment of Blaze getting to know Gold's family as well as Gold getting to bond with her family...#jealous parents? proud parents? parents spouting Gold's embarrasing childhood moments?? ALL OF ABOVE?!?!#the twins coming up with a thousand shenanigans towards their new sis-in-law??#any jealous sib? a jealous old bro Rowan? a protective old bro?#goldaze#gold x blaze#blaze x gold
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Gold x Blaze fankid!
Really had to get creative with this one but thatâs what made it fun to figure out XD
#sonic the hedgehog#sonic fandom#sth#archie sonic#sonic art#art#sonic fanart#sonic fankid#sonic fankids#sonic fanchild#blaze the cat#gold the tenrec#gold x blaze#blaze x gold#i think i'll call this one#goldaze#goldblaze?#GOLDENBLAZE#idk whatever you like lol
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Mi-ra-i
#sth#sonic x#aosth#archie sonic#silver the hedgehog#professor von schlemmer#dinglehopper von schlemmer#gold the tenrec#blaze the cat#marine the raccoon#traditional art#traditional drawing
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#sonic#sonic the hedgehog#gold the tenrec#blaze the cat#gold x blaze#glaze#scourge the hedgehog#fiona the fox#scourgiona#poll#polls#poll tournament#poll bracket#tournament poll
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It is so easy for Rune to shine. Where does that effortlessness come from? How do people acquire it? He is so light. I am earthbound, a Caliban to his Ariel.
Siri Hustvedt, from The Blazing World
#charisma#x factor#gold rush#effortless#allusion#shakespeare#sad#opposites#quotes#lit#words#excerpts#quote#literature#characterization#juxtaposition#siri hustvedt#the blazing world
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tags update
ââ watch me leave my soul to you ( ic )
ââ silly kitty ( ooc )
ââ what was i made for? ( headcanon )
ââ mafia princess ( self )
ââ i've got my heart set on anywhere but here ( musings )
ââ every step that i take is another mistake to you ( behavior )
ââ the trail we blaze ( aesthetics )
ââ i whisper in your earâ "i want to fucking tear you apart" ( desires )
ââ raindrops and purrs of cats ( music )
ââ the normal one ( kris )
ââ silly kitty ( lyra )
ââ stupid casanova ( gold )
ââ now please can i kiss him? ( gold x silver )
he is like a cat in the dark then he is the darkness behaviour tag maybe?
#ââ watch me leave my soul to you ( ic )#ââ silly kitty ( ooc )#ââ what was i made for? ( headcanon )#ââ mafia princess ( self )#ââ i've got my heart set on anywhere but here ( musings )#ââ every step that i take is another mistake to you ( behavior )#ââ the trail we blaze ( aesthetics )#ââ please know how much i want this ( desires )#ââ i whisper in your earâ âi want to fucking tear you apartâ ( desires )#ââ now please can i kiss him? ( gold x silver )
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third times the charm
pairing: tyler owens x f!reader
word count: 3.8k
summary: life has a funny way of putting people in your path, and ultimately making them part of your life. but what happens when the one person you never want to see stumbles in over and over again, a disastrous tornado tearing up your path of moving on?
aka: the two times tyler owens enters and, consequently, leaves, your life at the wrong time, and the one time he comes at the perfect moment and finally stays.
warnings: reader is described in a feminine manner; why are we ignoring his bull rider trope? cause i'm not babes xx; angsty mainly, but fluff too; lovers to enemies back to lovers (sorry); this author knows nothing about tornadoes or weather so sorry
shoutout to megan moroney and her banger new album where this title and idea come from :)
-
i.
"What do you mean you're leaving?!"
Tyler shuts the tailgate of his red pick-up with a loud slam, the cowboy hat on his head nearly flying off with the force. Y/N stood just a few feet away, her arms crossed over her torso as her chest heaved in short, shaking breaths. The sunlight hits her just right, and the gold chain around her neck glimmers in the sunlight. It catches Tyler's attention from the corner of his eye-it had been burned into his mind from the moment he'd bought it with a chunk of his earnings from last year's rodeo. The chain was delicate, simple, but the charm had been the main appeal: it was gold, the same shade as the chain, but in the center of the small heart shaped pendant sat a capital 'T'. She'd worn it since he'd given it to her for a birthday present, and it had been the center piece of even their most intimate moments-her bare beneath him with only the glittering jewelry adorning her as he had her unraveling under his touch. Even the thought of it had heat traveling up Tyler's neck, and he swallowed down the feeling, along with all of the guilt bubbling to the surface.
"I'm leavin', simple as that."
"Ty, I-I don't understand. You get bucked off one time and you're giving up?! You've been riding since we were kids, I-"
He turns to her, emerald eyes blazing with an emotion he couldn't put a label on.
"I didn't just get 'bucked off', I almost got my head trampled in case you forgot!" His voice is laced with anger. He's not angry with her, he's angry with himself. After a series of unfortunate injuries in last month's local rodeo, Tyler knew he couldn't ride again, it would kill him. He'd spent the last few weeks in physical therapy and doctor's offices just to make sure the damn bull hadn't left behind more than scars.
It was better this way, he could leave his town behind, and forget about the deep, gut-twisting feeling of failure that sat like acid in his stomach. But leaving his hometown also meant leaving her.
Tyler had fallen for Y/N their junior year of high school, and they'd rarely been seen without one another ever since then. She was sweet and shy to his brash and confident, his biggest supporter-always sitting in the stands for all of his rides-whether he was the talk of the town or stumbling home, his shotgun rider, and the girl who wore his heart (literally and figuratively) on a chain around her neck. Looking at her now, with tears lining under her gorgeous eyes, he wanted to just forget all of his plans and pull her into his arms. He wanted to reassure her that he'd stay here, that he'd give her the life that he'd promised her-apple pie and babies, the perfect picket-fence life she deserved.
"Tyler, you-you can't be serious! W-What about your parents, your plans, hell, Tyler, what about me?!" Her shoulders now moved as she let out shuddering breaths, eyebrows furrowed as she grew frustrated. "Tyler Owens you promised me, you promised me a farmhouse, and a wrap-around porch, a-and babies! And now you're just gonna take off to God-knows-where to what? Storm chase?"
She stops and lets out a dry chuckle. She'd been 'chasing' with him before, vivid memories of him scaring her shitless chasing tornadoes in his truck, only to 'apologize' to her by making love in the backseat after the storm had passed. Through their time together, she, too, had grown to love the storms. Y/N took her camera into the storms with them, more than ready to capture the freakishly beautiful moments of pure disaster before it struck. She'd stand in the pouring rain next to him, laughing as wind whipped hair around her face. He'd snap a picture of her with her own camera that she'd set aside and she'd roll her eyes. They'd been happy, bonded by a mutual love of mother nature's chaos and one another. Now, she turns her back to face him, shaking her head as her bottom lip trembles.
"Ya know, I should've listened to everyone who told me to stay away from you in high school, that you'd just hurt me. I didn't believe them, not one bit, because I know you. You're running because you're scared. You don't have to run, Ty. You've never run from your fears, for God's sake you ride them! What the hell are you thinking?!"
Tears stream down her face, and Tyler feels his resolve slipping. He hadn't thought it through, not really, and now as she stands in front of him, he realizes he's only hurting her more and more. He needed an out, he needed to skip town, no matter who it hurt.
"I'm thinking that I'm a fuckin' failure at everything, no matter what I try! The only thing I'm good at is storms, chasin' them, getting close enough to see something! I fail at everything, Y/N/N, and if I stay, I'll just fail you, too. Over and over."
"Tyler, you've never failed me," she brings her hands to either side of his face, her thumb brushing a cut that still hadn't scarred over from his fall. Her eyes were blurry and her hands trembled. "Please, stay." Her voice was hardly a whisper, pleading desperately.
"You know I can't."
She nodded solemnly, wiping tears so she could take a final look into his eyes. She gave no warning when she launched her arms around his neck, all but hanging onto him like a child. He hugged her tighter than he ever had, and when she let go, he placed a final heated goodbye kiss on her lips. Y/N looks at him, her brain screaming pleas to make him stay, but she simply kisses his cheek before speaking.
"C-call me when you get there?"
He takes one last glance at her, taking her in completely, as if trying to memorize her. His eyes land on the jewelry adorning the spot just below her collarbone, the gold shining in the sunset, knowing he'd never see it on her again-if he ever even saw her again.
"You'll be the first person I call, baby."
Y/N's call never came.
She spent the summer miserable, but refused to take off the gold chain she hid under shirts. It burned her skin in a metaphorical sense, but she ignored it, just like the heartbreak that had festered into deep resentment for Tyler Owens. She'd decided to take off to the local university for a clean start, somewhere new, somewhere his ghost wouldn't haunt her. Things had begun to look up, and she found herself smiling again. The morning before her first day of classes, she almost took the chain off, but couldn't bring herself to do so.
When she spotted his tall figure sitting a row ahead of her in her Intro to Meteorology class, she pretended not to know who he was. It was only fair, he'd done the same to her. For a reason that neither of them could vocalize, they begin to hate one another. Without knowing it, Tyler had become the storm that had sparked her into chasing after danger forever, the one that had left destruction so fatal she wasn't sure if she'd ever recover.
-
ii.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Y/N rolls her eyes and nearly throws her laptop across her dorm room when she looks down at her field partner pairing. The name in bold stares back at her like some sick joke.
Tyler Owens.
She shuts her laptop with a force that could shatter glass and slams her face into her pillow to let out a scream that could have easily been heard four counties over. The universe had to hate her.
With one glance at her watch, she hops from her bed and packs her duffel, her camera slung around her other shoulder. After silently praying that this storm takes her away in one quick swoop, she opens the door to her room and stumbles down the stairs to the lobby, where he was waiting for her outside the double doors. She can already feel her skin flaming with anger when she catches sight of his towering frame, baseball cap thrown backwards over his head.
"'Bout fuckin' time sweetheart, thought the storm would pass before we even got out there!"
"Oh, kiss my ass, Owens."
She rolls her eyes and climbs into the red truck she had once been a permanent fixture in, feeling almost like nothing had changed since the last time she'd crawled into the passenger side. She had half a mind to let down the driver's side visor to see if her picture still sat inside it, but Tyler climbs in the second she thinks about it. The half hour drive is uncomfortable, silent, and laced with tension so thick both halves of the couple begin to wonder if the air supply is getting thin. But as the storm approaches, both of their eyes are locked on the massive twisting figure just ahead of them. Y/N reaches for her camera, focusing the lens as best as she can through the windshield of the truck. She sighs when the view is less than satisfactory. Without much thought, she begins to move the window crank on the door to let down the window.
"What the hell are you doin'?" Tyler's voice breaks their silence.
"What does it look like, Owens? Getting a better shot." Her body hangs halfway out the window, camera leaning out the window as she moves the lens and clicks.
"Get your ass in the truck, I'm not payin' your hospital bills when you fall out and I run over you."
She rolls her eyes and ignores him, almost her entire body hanging out the window.
"Okay, okay, get in the truck, I'll get you closer, Jesus."
She pulls herself back into the truck and rolls the window back up as Tyler moves forward down the muddy path, closer to the storm now building ahead. The wind and rain grow more intense, shaking even the bulky vehicle that could easily withstand even the most treacherous of conditions. The spiraling tunnel only moves at a more pummeling speed, and Y/N's sharp shout fills the air.
"Stop the truck!"
He hits the brake and before the truck even stops, Y/N's rolling out of the passenger side, camera raised as she captures a monster of a storm. Tyler finds himself silent, momentarily distracted-her hair blowing with the force of the wind, the smile drawn across her face, and the long sleeve button down she'd been wearing was slipping down her shoulders, exposing her tank top and-wait-he raises an eyebrow, his heart stopping. Against her neck sat a gold chain he knew too well. It stops him completely in his tracks, shocked that she still wore his initial around her neck. The sound of a roaring train pulls him from his thoughts and sends him leaning out his own door.
"Y/N," he's shouting over the loud winds. "GET YOUR ASS IN THE TRUCK!"
The barrel of wind only gets closer, the fierceness of wind making Tyler's heart race. The girl outside his truck, however, only smiles wider, raising her camera for another shot of the approaching storm.
"I'M FINE, TYLER. WIND'S NOT EVEN THAT BAD!"
Tyler huffs as his voice, raspy from yelling, shouts again.
"THAT WASN'T A REQUEST, SWEETHEART. GET YOUR ASS IN THIS TRUCK!"
She ignores his shouts, only squinting her eyes at the horizon as the wind picks up another notch, making the shirt now halfway down on her arms blow like a flag in the wind. Tyler gives her a minute to comply, hoping this was just a momentary phase of her being stubborn. After five minutes, Tyler cursed and stomped out of the truck over to her. He says nothing, picking her up over his shoulder.
"TYLER! WHAT THE FUCK?! PUT ME DOWN, ASSHOLE!"
He doesn't give in to her retorts, simply swinging her door open and shoving her into the passenger seat. He gets into his driver's side and slings his arm on her headrest, turning to back the truck around.
"What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you have some sort of sick kink where you get off on ruining my life? I had a perfect shot, it-"
"You had a perfect shot of getting sucked into a tornado is what you had, Y/N. You're gonna get yourself killed gettin' that fuckin' close!"
"Like you would care." Her voice isn't even a mumble, and Tyler hardly hears her over the sounds of the storm.
It sends a jab of pain through his heart he doesn't expect, and instead of saying anything, he lets her stew in anger in his passenger seat. When he drops her off at her dorm, she agrees to email him her half of the project, and a week later he receives it.
He opens the email to find exactly what he imagines, the most spectacular shots of a storm he's ever seen. After the report and photos are submitted, the two never speak to one another again. They both graduate under the same Arkansas sun, but lead different lives in the same area of the country. Y/N swears she sees his truck pass her every time she goes out to shoot, and he sees her in every girl that stands in a field with a camera.
Y/N would never admit that she has a burner account subscribed to his livestreams, or that she laughed and smiled as she watched him hoop and holler with his ragtag group of friends, memories of the chases they once went on filling her mind more fondly than painfully these days. And if she had one of the red and white shirts with his stupid cartoon face plastered against it, well, no one would ever know.
When Boone and the rest of his crew would stop for food and rest breaks, if Tyler saw her name plastered in a newspaper or magazine, he'd put it on the counter next to his plethora of snacks. He'd never admit he'd cut her articles out of them and kept them in a small scrapbook that lived in his glovebox, right next to the picture of her that once lived in his visor-only because a magazine cut-out clip of her lived there now, her smiling with a massive twin barrel storm behind her, the gold chain peeking from the shirt was wearing.
-
iii.
"Ty, man, this one's a beaut! She's unreal!"
Boone's voice filled Tyler's ears from the passenger seat, but as Tyler looked out at the horizon, his attention was far from the brunette that sat next to him. He saw her car before he saw her-the same rink-dink, decked out, black Subaru she'd had in college, meaning she was here on her own, not for business.
His green eyes darted to the field across from where it was parked, spotting her instantly as she stood in the tall grass, hair blowing as she brought her camera to her face, crouching down to get the perfect shot. She shook her head when she pulled back from it, enjoying the sight in front of her.
Tyler puts the truck in park and all but barrels out of the door, his boots taking him towards her, but not nearly fast enough.
"Jesus, who's that? And why's she got Ty all in a tizzy?" Boone leans over to Lilly, who gives him an incredulous look.
"That's Y/N Y/L/N, she's a storm photographer, apparently he's got some fan girl crush on her or somethin', he keeps her work in a binder."
"Holy shit! Tyler knows the Y/N Y/L/N?"
Tyler would've blushed and denied Lilly's statement vehemently, but he was too far away to hear. Instead, the whipping winds and the sound of Y/N's delightful laughter filled his ears.
"She's a beaut, huh?" Tyler's voice carries over the noise, falling on Y/N's ears. She takes a breath and turns to face him for the first time in years. She nods slowly.
"Yeah, she's gorgeous. Got some great shots."
Her throat feels dry as his eyes peer down at her. She finally braves a look up at him.
"Um, I'm not studying it or anything, just bored, really. I'll let you and your crew have her."
She gives him a small smile, but he notes it's genuine as she caps the lens on her camera.
"It was good to see you, Ty. Good luck."
"Y/N, wait. I-I need to ask you somethin'."
She pauses her steps, turning back to face the man in front of her. For a split second, he looks just like the younger version that had left her all those years ago-the hat, the belt buckle, but none of that same all consuming fear.
"Sure, go ahead."
"Why do you still wear it? I saw you, that time in college, and when you did that shoot outside of Kansas City, the picture they published of you, it-you can see it real clear."
Y/N stills, pushing back hair that's blowing in the wind as she looks at him. She could say a multitude of things-how she wore it because she'd gotten so used to always wearing it. That she wore it because she wanted to hold onto him the only way she could. She could lie and say that she used it as a good luck charm. None of them would be the truth, and she was sick of lying to him, so she simply told the truth.
"Well, all the best chasers, they carry their first storm with them, right?"
She pauses, realizing how vague that was.
"What I mean is, without you taking me through my first storm I never would've done this. I was terrified of them, and you and that stupid red truck of yours showed me how beautiful they can be, and now I capture their beauty for a living. I never would've had any of this without you, so-"
She shrugs, giving him a small chuckle. The silence suffocates as he looks at her.
"Tyler listen-"
"If you're gonna apologize, don't. I'm the one that should apologize, I left you all those years ago. That was real shitty of me, and I didn't give you a warnin' or a reason why. So, I'm sorry, for all of it."
She nods, giving him a smile. The quiet floods between them again, and she pushes back her hair again before she speaks.
"I-I watch your videos, y-your livestreams. You're still crazy, but it reminds me of when we used to chase, and you'd scare me to death, and then you'd, uh, 'apologize' for it and, sometimes it's like I'm there with you."
He laughs with her.
"I-I've got every newspaper and magazine clippin' you've ever been in. You're pictures they're-breathtakin', it feels like you're standin' in the field right there next to you. I guess that's just because I used to be and memories, ya know?"
She nodded, giving him a sweet smile, one that sends his heart racing. They both turn their attention to the horizon where the storm seems relatively calm, at least by their standards.
"Uh, Y/N? I'm sorry, I promised you somethin' all those years ago, and I never made good on it. I think about that a lot, and-just-I'm sorry."
"I forgave you a long time ago, Ty, we were kids." She pauses, tilting her head as she looks at the storm brewing. "Besides, I don't think I'm cut out for that life anymore, I like life on the road. I mean, where else do you get moments like this? The storms back home are wonders, but nothing like this."
"I agree with you there," he chuckles. His heart pounds, and the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them. "I miss you though."
She cuts her eyes to his own, as if waiting for him to explain himself.
"You were my original chasin' partner, ya know? Plus, when things got scary, you never flinched, not really. This reporter I've got now? God help us all, can't stand much more than a strong wind."
Y/N laughs loudly before she shakes her head.
"Well, you might be in luck. I hate working for that magazine, I really, really do." She turns to face him, camera pulled close to her chest. "The Tornado Wranglers hiring? I'm looking for a job. I have a portfolio if you need it, references too."
Her statement is laced with sarcasm.
Tyler finds himself laughing now, a wide smile plastered across his face.
"I'm familiar with your work, have it on good graces that you're just what we're lookin' for. Lucky for you, we've always got room for one more, that is, if you'll have us. I gotta warn you, those over there are a handful."
"If they're anything like you, I'm likely to fall in love with them instantly."
Y/N doesn't register the words stumbling out of her mouth until they'd already filled the air between them. Without a word, Tyler grabs her hand, pulling her in closer than people who have a history like theirs should. His calloused fingers reach out to the gold pendant lying on her neck, moving it back and forth between its fingers. It had withstood their time apart-it was scratched and a little weather-worn, but, then again, so were they.
"The clasp broke about a year ago, the rest is all original. Pure gold, willing to sell it for a good offer. The guy at the pawn tried to undersell me, I know what I've got."
Tyler's chest warms, that sarcastic, witty humor he'd missed back in full force.
"Do you take alternate forms of payment?" He pulls her in by her waist with a cocky grin.
"Depends, Owens, what did you have in mind?"
He cocks his eyebrow, giving her a sort of contemplative look as his hands rest on the small of her back, hers around his neck.
"Well, I still owe you about-," He lifts his hand from around her and pretends to count on his fingers. "A billion apologies, we could chase this stunner of a storm, drop these characters back off at the motel, find us an empty field, and I could apologize like I used to...maybe?"
She shakes her head and pulls him in for a heated kiss. They're both smiling so hard its hardly a kiss, but the feelings are there.
"You've got yourself a deal, but I'm keeping the necklace."
"Wouldn't have it any other way, baby." He kisses her head, pulling her back towards his group of friends, who were now whistling at the pair, obviously catching the interaction. "Fair warning, after he finds out just who you are, Boone's likely to fall in love with you."
She raises her eyebrow, pulling away and heading towards the motley crew ahead of her.
"Guess you'll just have to chase me next."
-
taglist:
@fraaaaankiiiiieee
#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens#twisters#glen powell#Tyler Owens x you#glen powell x reader#glen powell x you
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Title: Illuminated.
Pairing: Yandere!Apollo x Reader (Greek Mythology).
Word Count: 1.0k.
TW: Stalking, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, No Specified Gender For The Reader But They Are A Hunter Of Artemis, and Implied Kidnapping.
[Commissioned Piece. Donate To Palestinians In Gaza Here.]
âYou, my love, are the poetâs demise.â
You stiffened at the sound of his melodic voice, shrinking into yourself before thinking better of taking on such a mouse-like posture and straightening. Still, you failed to stop yourself from crossing your arms over your chest, pulling your knees up and hoping beyond hope that the silvery water would be enough to hide your form from his unfaltering stare. You thought itâd be safer to bathe at night, apart from your sisters, when the softened moonlight protected you from his burning gaze, but youâd been naĂŻve to think that any hour could be late enough to spare you haven. During the day, you lived under the burning gaze of his blazing chariot, busied yourself with shooting down hawks and ravens carrying gifts in their beaks, and at night, he had no burdens to keep him from closing the distance between you using less... ancillary methods.
âIâm afraid you must be mistaken, my lord.â You forced yourself to laugh, glancing over your shoulder. Sure enough, Apollo stood on the riverâs opposing bank, his tanned skin nearly radiant in the darkness. If the sight of him hadnât brought you such dread, you mightâve thought him beautiful. âAs of late, my aimâs been so poor that I can hardly call myself a stagâs demise, let alone a manâs.â
You were quick to look away from him, but you could still hear his gentle hum, picture the way his lips would lilt upward as he shook his head. âIâm afraid itâs deathly true,â he went on, taking a step forward. The water rushed to part as he stepped where it had once been, and in turn, you scrambled for the robes youâd left on the shore, barely managing to pull the ashen cloth around yourself before Apollo came to stand in front of you, his light quickly doing away with what little protection the shadows offered. It was only after you were haphazardly dressed that you considered it might be considered an affront to hide any part of yourself from divinity, but the worry was quickly forgotten. It was only natural to want to create yet another barrier between you and him. Even insects knew to run from their betters. âFor even the most talented bard would struggle beyond words to describe your beauty. They could be chained to their desk for an eternity, study under the Musesâ own tutelage, and still be unable to write a single line.â
He held out a hand to you, but you pretended not to realize he meant for you to take it. âYouâre far too kind. If you have a message for Lady Artemis, thereâs no need to bribe me with suchââ
âMy love,â he cut in, his smile unwavering. âIf I had any desire to speak to my sister, your help would not be necessary.â
âA prophecy concerning our next hunt, then? If thereâs something we mustnât do, I ought to get the Huntmaster, sheâllââ
âMy love.â You felt your throat tighten, your mouth go dry. âAlthough your voice is sweeter than honey and lovelier than birdsong, Iâll admit â I do find myself rather irritated when itâs used to employ such thinly veiled excuses. Any more, and I might think it better to encase your tongue in gold. At least, then, I might have something charming to admire while you lie to me.â His fingers grazed over your jaw as he moved to cup your cheek. It was not a gesture you had the luxury of ignoring. âYou know why I have come here.â
Oh, how you wished youâd gone with your sisters.
âI⌠I canât, my lord.â Unlike his, your voice was perfectly capable of trembling, of shaking, of plummeting into the sort of jarring, unsteady downward inflections that wouldâve been the death of any proper storyteller. âMy vows are to Lady Artemis, andââ It was your turn to smile, now, to lilt your head to the side apologetically. ââsheâd never forgive me if I broke them. Especially with you.â
For the first time, his good humor seemed to ebb, giving way to not anger, but a melancholy sort of disappointment. âI suppose youâre right,â he relented, his golden glow dimming ever so slightly. Suddenly, it did not hurt quite so unbearably to look at him. âItâs a terrible thing. Me and my sister never did learn to share.â
Relief nearly managed to overshadow your revulsion. âI really am sorry. My desire is not to insult you, butââ
This time, when he interrupted you, it was not with a teasing remark, a nectar-dipped pet name, the vague implication of an affection he expected you to return. Rather, there was a sudden brightness in his golden eyes, a sharpened point to his smile, and then, his lips were pressed into yours. The kiss was shallow, but lingering, and when you tried to draw back, the hand on your cheek kept you firmly in place â his hold not crushing, but steadfast, resolute. His unoccupied arm wrapped around your waist, his hand finding its place at the small of your back as he sapped the last of the breath from your lungs. It was only when your palms pressed into his chest, your blunt nails burrowing into his bare skin in a silent plea for air, that he pulled back. Panting and flushed, you made a desperate effort to pull away, to escape back to your encampment, back to your sisters, back to your goddess, but he only cooed, his bowstring calloused fingertips fanning over your cheek.
âSuch a terrible thing,â he muttered, and you considered, briefly, that you mightâve been the first mortal to realize just how wretched his voice truly was.
âHow fortunate it is, then, that youâve caught the attention of such a selfish admirer.â
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere greek gods#yandere greek mythology#yandere apollo#apollo x reader#yanderecore#yancore
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A Dragon's Lullaby
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader
Word Count: 7.1k
Synopsis: Aemondâs fury is a challenge to contain, but it withers beneath the touch of his wife.
Themes & Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), pov first person (reader), foul language, hotd s2 spoilers, s2x06 inspired, dark/soft Aemond, SMUT, titty sucking, angst, fingering, fluff, feet, p in v, bath sex, oral (fem receiving), orgasms, slight voyeurism
Song: Made of Gold - Ibeyi, Pa Salieu
a/n: Inspired by this. His expression in this scene is everythiiing
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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated â¤ď¸
Enjoy the read!
[gif @hoosbandewan]
[divider @targaryen-dynasty]
The chamber doors slammed shut, jarring me from my needlework.
Aemond erupted into the room, his voice a venomous hiss that chilled me to the bone.
âCravens. Lickspittles.â The words ripped from his throat with a guttural growl, filling the apartment with lethal fury, instilling a deep sense of unease in my gut, as he paced the room like a caged beast, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. âA nest of fucking vipers.â His features were warped with hatred, his eye sparking rage and his scar appeared to burn hot red in his skin.Â
I set my needlework aside, bracing myself for the inevitable storm.Â
My husband had grown increasingly volatile of late. Temperamental. Volcanic, ever at the brink of eruption. Long convinced that his knowledge of history, swordsmanship, and his ancestral ties to Valyria of old â that was his dragon â destined him for the crown, he chafed under the regency. Yet, with the weight of governance upon him, Iâd realized these qualities hardly made for a wise ruler.Â
Aemond was tyrannical, impulsive, and possessed a relentless thirst for vengeance Iâd thought long sated, but now burned fiercer than ever.
Iâd learned to tread carefully, supporting him rather than opposing him. Questions were rare, acquiescence plentiful, regardless of my true feelings.
âThe Lannisters,â he snarled, hurling a crumpled piece of parchment into the fire. âBalls deep in their lions and their gold that they believe they can command me.â His eye blazed with ire. âMe!â His voice was a startling growl, and I schooled my racing heart.
Adopting my role as the submissive, doting wife, I folded my hands in my lap and eased reverence into my gaze, âThat was their first mistake,â I offered, feigning confidence, as though I had the briefest idea of what they had done.
Crossing Aemond was a path none would willingly tread, though the Lannisters were hardly known to be the brightest of the noble houses in the realm.
âThey mock me,â he snapped. âMy word is law.â
âAnd theyâd be wise to abide by them,â I replied.Â
âI tire of being compared with my father,â he spat. âThe man was weak. Pliable.â
âYou are his opposite, Your Grace.â
âMother believes she can mind me like a puppet, as she did Aegon. She clings to what little power remains to her.â He stilled, his fingers fidgeting at his sides. âI sense her heart still lies with Rhaenyra.â All of his thoughts materialized into words like a surging flood. âI can no longer trust her counsel,â he said. âSo, I dismissed her.â
A mistake, I feared. âIâm sure it was a wise decision, Your Grace.â
âCole addles me,â Aemond proceeded. âThe man, once so commanding and fierce, now carved out into a pitiful husk.â He started through the room again. âAegon was a fool to name him Hand.â
âYou are the Prince Regent, Your Grace,â I voiced softly. âYou may name a new one as you wish.â
With his rant, his tempest began to subside. The honeyed tone I knew so well sank back into his voice and replaced his rage. His pacing ceased, and his anxious fingers relaxed at his sides, before he sank into his chair beside me.
âThe Lannister coward wish me to fly out to the Tooth to secure their safe passage to Harrenhal,â he spat, his fingers twisting together, venom seeping back into his voice, ââWith hasteâ, he says!â
I stood, my voice steady. âYour regency is green, Your Grace, and your subjects forgetful of their places.âÂ
Aemondâs hands gripped the arm rests, his whole body contracting beneath his leathers in readied ambush.Â
âIt is your duty to remind them,â I continued, rounding his chair, my hands settling on his shoulders. He was rigid beneath my touch, his muscles bulging with tension.Â
He glanced over his shoulder, his eye a mix of softness and lethal intent. âYou are correct,â he said, his fingers tightening around the hilt of Blackfyre. âA public execution would persuade them.â
My heart hammered against my ribs, and my grip on his shoulders tightened instinctively.Â
âPerhaps a less bloodied approach, my love,â I suggested, coating my words in honey. âEscalating the mislike of the smallfolk would be unwise,â I said, willing my touch to send a calming current into his bones. âWe cannot risk provoking the hungry masses.â
âI do not wish to be liked,â he hissed, his voice laced with malice. âI wish to be feared.â
Yet, when I leaned down over him, wrapping my arms over his chest, nuzzling my face into his cheek, he unraveled in my embrace, melting like wax exposed to flame.Â
A deep exhale of relief escaped his lips, as though my touch pulled the string of tension from his muscles like cloth, a deep satisfied hum reverberating in his chest. All of his anger disintegrated into dust, and he leaned into me, closing his eye, his face pressing against mine, his delicious heat seeping into my skin.
I breathed in the scent of him.Â
Musk and leather.Â
I filled my senses with it, a heady intoxication.
âHusbandâŚ?â I whispered against his skin.
âWife,â he sighed with rapture, his arm reaching up, his fingers tangling into my hair, pulling me closer. He buried his nose in my neck and inhaled. He sighed once more with entrance, his breath warm against my ear. âYou smell divine,â he whispered.
His fury was a tempest, his tenderness a balm. Once crossed, he was a force to be reckoned with.Â
But when he was soft⌠he was so very soft.Â
âThank you, husband,â I smiled. The matter of the Lannisterâs defiance was as good as wind. âMy maids put lavender and rose in my bath earlier.âÂ
âHmm,â he hummed appreciatively. âI commend them.â
My heart swelled in my chest. In these moments, I felt a love that transcended fear. I could endure his tirades for hours if they always ended like this, with him so vulnerable, and soft, his fury crumbling under my touch, like a fortress breached.Â
His complexity was a bottomless well, an endless enigma, each layer revealing a new facet of his being. A mystery I could not begin to fathom, only sit back and enjoy. I was utterly captivated, desperate to remain in his favor. His trust in me was profound, and I knew the weight of my words carried uncommon power. My devotion and loyalty were absolute. Anything heâd ask of me would be his, a fact he understood completely.Â
My hair cascaded down his chest, mingling with his silver, a cosmic tapestry against the leather. I burrowed deeper into his skin, making him softer, my kisses trailing across his cheek until they met his lips, to which he groaned softly, deepening the union, his grip tightening around the back of my neck.Â
The kiss was a consuming inferno, leaving me breathless and light-headed.Â
âHmm,â he hummed with delight. âYour lips alone could end this war.â
He possessed my whole heart in the palm of his hand.Â
âThey are your servants, Your Grace,â I whispered against his cheek.Â
He chuckled low, a comforting melody, the muscles in his face plumping, his lips pursing to his contented smile.Â
But the looming threat of Rhaenyraâs forces intruded on my thoughts. Despite my misgivings about the way the succession had been handled, my husbandâs victory was paramount. Many believed him consumed by darkness, a prisoner of his own demons. His mother, among others, shared this bleak view. Yet, here in my arms, I held undeniable proof to the contrary. I knew in my heart that he did not need to be feared, when he was capable of such profound love. So much more than he probably knew himself.Â
âAemond,â I began, feeling his attention shift to me. âThese weeks past Iâve been witnessing the plight of the smallfolk from our window-â
âYou should not submit your eyes to such vile scenes,â he interrupted, snarling.
âNevertheless,â I countered gently. âIt has been impossible to turn a blind eye. Famine stalks the city. Sickness is surging. Blame is placed on those who rule over them.â His head rested heavier against me as he listened, his gaze flickering with thought. âDo not underestimate the influence of the common people,â I said.
His jaw clenched.Â
âTheir numbers far outstrip ours. Capable of turning the tide if discontented,â I pressed on.
A silence filled our chambers, and I sent a silent prayer to the Mother that he would be malleable enough to receive my words in the way they were intended.Â
âWhat do you suggest?â he said finally.
I exhaled a silent breath.Â
âOpen the gates. Spare them imprisonment,â I replied.
âThey will spread their slanders across the Crownlands,â he countered, his voice like liquid.
âBut you cannot control them. A good King does not earn the love of his people through fear. Neither does he command loyalty. He must earn it. Fear breeds nothing but resentment.â
He seemed to consider my words, his expression unreadable.Â
Then, he inhaled deeply, and took my hand, guiding me around his chair, pulling me into his lap.
âMy wise counsellor,â he purred, his arms tightening around my waist. âYou would make a formidable queen.â His lips brushed against my ear as his fingers began to trail a path down my neck, hooking into the laces of my dress, which he undid with expert grace, his arm pulling with long strokes as the laces fell out, and opened my bosom. A shiver ran down my spine and desire ignited in my blood. My breasts fell heavy, and he caught them in his hands, humming with delight. I shuddered beneath his touch, a pulse starting between my thighs.Â
âAemond,â I whispered, my voice barely a breath.
âHm?â he murmured absently, his fingers already slipping beneath the delicate fabric.Â
âDid you hear what I said?â I uttered, trembling.
He leaned in, his eye dark with desire. âYes,â he rasped, his voice husky, his tongue darting out to taste the peak of my breast, softly grazing across my nipple in a hot, wet motion.Â
Fog infiltrated my mind faster than I dared to acknowledge.Â
He retreated slightly, and watched as my peak hardened under his subtle provocation. With practiced ease, he repeated the torment on the other breast, his gaze appraising, his eye a dark blue.
âYou suggest I please the smallfolk,â he said, his voice low and sultry, lifting my heavy breast in his hand. âThough Iâd much rather please my wife,â he groaned, and a sharp intake of breath escaped my lips as he took my nipple into the delicious heat of his mouth, a fierce pleasure igniting within me. I gasped, my hands instinctively cradling his head as I arched into him, keeping him latched. He released me with a wet pop, his eye gleaming with satisfaction at the pink swelling. He captured the other nipple in his mouth. A feverish heat pulsed through me, an insatiable craving consuming me.Â
This nightly ritual was a torment and a salvation. He could have his hands and mouth on me for hours, days, until I was raw and throbbing, and I would still yearn for his touch, his taste, his complete possession.Â
He was a poison and a cure, a fire that consumed me entirely. An addictive draught, coursing through my veins, blurring my reason.Â
His hands, the weapons of a killer, ravaged my body and tore at my dress, twisting it down until my torso was exposed to his predatory gaze. They delved beneath the fabric, their touch a fiery brand igniting my skin. Hungry fingers tore at me, exploring up my thighs, setting my nerves ablaze. With a swift movement, he claimed me, switching me in his lap until my back pressed against his hard chest, my legs propped up on the edge of his seat, cradled on either side of him. His hands swept the inner curve of my thighs, a path of fire, a delicate torment reaching higher, until they found the tender juncture. His face pressed against mine, ragged breaths fanning my face. A shiver coursed through me, a strange blend of warmth and dread from the volatile energy emanating from him. His hands remained right where they were, squeezing softly, tickling gently. My gown bunched around my hips, my exposed core throbbing for his touch, pulsing with eager longing, my body yearning for the release his touch promised.Â
My mind was immersed in an impossible fog, and I clawed for clarity. âWill you do me this one favor?â I panted, my breath mingling with his.Â
âWhat is this favor?â His growl was a low rumble as his tongue wet his fingers, a slow, erotic swipe as he held my gaze, a prelude to torment, setting my blood aflame. They found my clit, dampening it in a circular dance of fire. I whined and shuddered beneath his touch, and his eye sparked with gratification. My body bucked, a helpless rhythm to his masterful control.
Senses blurred. Words tangled. Yet, I clung to the fading remnants of reason, forcing myself while he was still open to receive counsel.Â
âTo open the gates,â I pleaded, my voice trembling. âIf we cannot feed them, let them leave.â
âHmm.â His throaty hum, a low, primal sound, vibrated through me, promising both ecstasy and torment. Goosebumps erupted down my skin. I gasped as his fingers slid downward, parting my slick lips, until they delved into me, the invasion equal agony and pleasure. I gasped, my head tilting back.Â
He wrapped an arm around my chest, steadying me. âIâll think on it,â he growled into the flesh of my neck, his teeth a fleeting brushfire on my skin.Â
âName a-,â my words dissolved as he curled his fingers up into my sweet spot. â-new Hand.â I gripped the armrests, desperately anchoring myself to reality amidst the tempest of his touch, his fingers pumping me slowly. âHe was never suited,â I managed between ragged breaths.
âNo more politics, my love,â he groaned, salacious noises of my pleasure filling the room. His focus, a burning intensity, was solely on me, on the spectacle of my pleasure.
And with a ragged, throaty breath, he uttered, âI want to watch you come.â
_
Water cascaded into the tub, steam licking across the waterâs surface. The intoxicating blend of lavender and rose filled the apartment, a scent Iâd commissioned for my husbandâs return from the morningâs small council meeting. As I inhaled the sweet, warming air, my mind sought tranquility amidst the looming war. Yet, the illusion of peace shattered with the abrupt crash of heavy footsteps and a violent wrenching of the chamber door.Â
Aemond stormed in, a frenzied tempest.Â
âFucking eunuch,â he hissed, raging past me, barely acknowledging my presence. Â
The allure of the bath, once a soothing sanctuary, evaporated.Â
Once more, his turmoil was a tempest I yearned to calm.
My mind raced as I strained to decipher the subject of his rage.
âThat toad, Larys Strong,â he growled.
That was all the confirmation I needed.
âDid he truly believe I would bestow the title of Hand upon a Strong cripple such as himself?â he spat, his eye ablaze with malice. âI didnât like the way he fucking looked at me. Iâll have his eyes out.â
âCome, Your Grace, join me,â I invited softly, swishing my hand through the water.
Aemond snarled, as if the water was poison. âI have no time for such indulgences,â he said, and with a dismissive gesture, turned to his books, his one eye scanning the pages with fierce concentration.
âItâs still warm,â I coaxed, but he paid me no mind, his focus remaining on the text.
I was not foolish enough to press his boundaries. Even though he was susceptible to my words and counsel, I understood when his wall had grown impenetrable.Â
I left him to his studies, a certain comfort arising at the thought that perhaps this bath would be mine after all. I loosened my robe, letting it puddle at my feet before stepping into the inviting water. As I submerged myself, the heat seeped into my blood, tranquilizing my tense bones, and a soft sigh of pleasure escaped my lips. I tipped my head back and allowed the water to filter into my hair, prickling my scalp with its alluring fingers. As I straightened, coiling the water out of my hair, I stole a glance at Aemond, who devoured the pages with predatory intensity, my nakedness seeming to hold no allure at present.
I sat up, my breasts rising above the waterâs surface. I grabbed the soapy sponge and began painting my body in foam. I moved slowly, the rich lather coating my arms, my collar bones, my neck, my chest, my breasts⌠They became slick with it, my nipples tightening under the stimulation.Â
Aemondâs gaze flickered.
As I cradled one breast, kneading and pinching the soft flesh, his nostrils flared and his eye narrowed, a predatory glint darkening its depths as if though I was his next kill, watching my cleansing ritual. Yet, he continued to feign indifference, his fingers turning the pages absently.Â
A surge of triumph coursed through me and nerves danced beneath my skin. Iâd captured his attention, a prize hard won.Â
âDo you find something of interest?â I asked coyly, nodding towards his books.Â
His jaw ticked. âMore than you can imagine,â he drawled, his gaze burning me, and I knew he was not referring to the histories.
I continued my provocative play, flicking my nipples, lathering them, until they ached with longing for his mouth.Â
His fingers twitched, a silent confession of his growing need. âAre you in need of assistance, my lady?â His voice, low and husky, was an enticing promise.
âI believe so,â I purred.
He shut the book and sauntered over, his approach slow and deliberate, sending the anticipation boiling within me. Kneeling behind me, he claimed the sponge, his touch a masterful blend of tenderness and command as he assumed his duties of cleansing me. Water beaded on the cloth before he inched it towards me, a cascade of soapy liquid descending upon my breasts at the clench of his delicate fingers. His hand followed, a caress that ignited a wildfire within.Â
A throaty sigh escaped him, which sent heat lower.
âWhat of your Hand?â I purred, my voice laced with invitation. âWho will assume the duties?â
âI need someone steadfast to advance my cause,â he murmured, his gaze dark and distant. âSomeone unyielding in the face of dragonfire. Someone fiercely loyal,â he drawled, his voice drifting with shifted focus. His hand came up around my throat, squeezing gently, a playful threat that sent shivers prickling my spine. It descended then, down over my collarbones, tracing a fiery trail to my breasts, and a flick of his thumb over my hardened nipple sent me into orbit. A low whimper escaped my lips. His frame loomed over me, his scent, a heady mix of leather and desire, filled my senses, intoxicating me.Â
âPerhaps the candidate of choice is closer than we think,â he continued, his voice a low rumble.Â
I perked up through the fog. âEnlighten me,â I murmured, my voice barely a whisper. His lips came down to my ear, his hot breath setting my blood on fire. His hand slipped beneath the water until his leather sleeve was submerged above his elbow.Â
âYou, wife,â he breathed, his voice a charged current that ignited my every nerve, further elevated by the caress of his fingers over my core.Â
I scoffed, the absurdity of the notion hitting me like a cold wave.Â
âWhy do you laugh?â he asked, his voice velvet and steel.
âA woman as Hand?â I ridiculed. âUnheard of.â
âYou are no ordinary woman,â he countered, his words a molten caress. âYou are my wife. And you guide me better than anyone.â
His words washed over me, dissolving my resistance in a tide of desire.Â
âPerhaps in our chambers,â I said, a hint of amusement coloring my voice. âBut around a council table? Holding the second most powerful position in the realm? It is laughable.â
A dangerous silence stretched between us as he considered my words. âNothing about you is laughable,â he finally said, his voice low and intense. Â
I turned to face him, the water rippling around me. I stacked my arms on the edge of the tub, my head tilting as I studied his sharp features.Â
His fingers traced patterns along my jaw, his eye filling with shimmering emotion. I smiled, reveling in the raw intensity he displayed only around me.Â
âWonât you join me, husband?â I invited.Â
A dangerous glint sparked in his eye, and without a word, he stood, unclasping his doublet from his center with slow, deliberate motions of his fingers. Heat rose within me with each layer that he shed. His body was a masterpiece of muscle and sinew.
He was all smooth lines and clean edges, that anything remotely carnal felt so much more unchaste with him.
His muscles rippled beneath taut skin, a living sculpture of power. Every part of him was so incredibly hard and defined, shadows playing around each tissue.
He sank into the water opposite me, his silver hair melting in the water like liquid moonlight.Â
I walked my feet up his taut stomach, up his chest, and wiggled my toes in his face playfully. He retaliated with mock ferocity, snapping at them with his teeth, his predatory gaze fixed on me, his eye alight with rare mischief. I giggled and retreated, but he captured one foot, his lips trailing soft kisses up my sole to my toes, sending a strangely pleasurable feeling through my core.
I scrunched my nose at him. âYouâre filthy,â I complained with feigned revolt.Â
âIndeed,â he drawled, his fingers kneading tension from my foot. A wave of pleasure washed over me, and I leaned back, sighing in contentment. His gaze was intense, his eye a fathomless blue. He knew, as always, how to soothe my soul.Â
âIf I asked it of you,â he began, and my breath grew shallow. âWould you take on the responsibility?â
The responsibility as Hand?Â
A wave of incredulity washed over me and I wanted to laugh again, though his features were etched with such seriousness that I felt as though I would be lynched if I as much as quirked the corners of my mouth.
Anything heâd ask of me, I would do with pleasure, though a sudden reservation coiled in my gut this time.Â
He had meant it in earnest. Dread sought its way around my throat.
I swallowed; my mind unable to even contemplate the weight of this looming task. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words formed.
He hummed with understanding, his eye softening and his mouth drawing up into a tender smile. âYou neednât give an answer now,â he said, placing a kiss to the bottom of my toe. âConsider it.âÂ
Then, he tugged on me until I straddled his lap, the water splashing onto the floors from our shifting bodies. I steadied myself on his firm chest as his hand snaked around my back, the other around my neck, pulling me into him. His desire, already throbbing and insistent, was pressing eagerly against my opening.Â
âImagining you,â he whispered against my lips. âAround the council table⌠At my side.â A shiver ran through me as I felt his dick pulse beneath me, and his breath shuddered on my skin. âItâs making me hard at the mere thought.â His grip tightened around the back of my neck, his fingers delving into my wet hair before he claimed my mouth, forcing my lips onto his in a clash of teeth and mess. I whimpered at the sudden collide, at the urgency of it, my body molding to his, while a heavy blend of lavender, rose, and dragon consumed my senses.
His hands came down and grabbed two handfuls of my ass and guided me onto his length. The water resisted our movements, making the intrusion slow and straining, and I sawed my bottom lip between my teeth. He filled me slowly, a throaty groan rumbling in his chest as I sank onto him, his eye locked onto the union, his lips parted in admiration.Â
He seized my hips, setting a relentless pace. His muscles rippled with exertion in the most attractive way imaginable, as he forced me to fuck him, the water spraying around us. The apartment echoed with the sounds of our passion, a lascivious ambiance of violent splashes, our breathless moans, and the primal growl in his throat.Â
_Â
The small council had convened hours hence when I was called upon from my chambers by the Kingâs Guard, my breakfast still steaming on the table.Â
âThe Prince Regent requests an audience, my lady,â they announced.
The lords sat huddled around the council table upon my entry, engrossed in earnest discussion. My gaze flickered briefly over Alicentâs and Coleâs empty seats.Â
Aemond occupied the head of the table, his gaze distant and hostile, his fingers steepled beneath his chin.
âYou called on me, Your Grace?â I inquired.
 âBe seated,â he commanded, his voice carrying an unfamiliar chill that sent unease coursing through me.
I moved towards the tableâs end with the intention to seat myself opposite him, but halted at his disapproving hum.Â
âCloser,â he insisted.Â
I hesitated, confusion washing through me and the rest of the council. A tense air descended, and I swallowed, before smoothing my dress and circumnavigated the table, the empty seats beside Aemond my only two options. His eye fixed me with a venomous intensity, as though I were a mere adversary, and not his good wife whom he was buried deep inside only last night.Â
Reluctantly, I claimed his motherâs old seat.Â
His displeasure was palpable, but unvoiced.Â
A tense silence filled the room before he broke it. âLord Larys,â he began, with a challenging tilt to his head as his gaze ripped from me and pinned the crippled man at my side. âWhat has come of the summons of my grandsire back to court?â
Larys Strong shifted uneasily in his chair, the action of a man on the verge of delivering some bad tidings, and I noted that his eyes remained in their sockets.Â
âMy messages have been to no avail, Your Grace,â he mumbled. âSer Otto seems preoccupied in Old Town for the time being.â
A low, contemplative âhmm,â reverberated in Aemondâs chest. âWell then,â he mused. âIt seems I must considerâŚâ His visage softened into a strangely content expression, ââŚother candidates.â He leaned back, propping his foot up on the edge of his chair, idly turning the kingâs marble between his fingers. His gaze flickered to me, carrying a weight of unspoken intent.
âDo you have someone in mind, Your Grace?â Jasper Wylde inquired, his voice laced with curiosity.
A slow, predatory smile crept across Aemondâs features. âAs it happens, I do,â he lulled as he observed me.Â
Dread pulsed through me, and I shook my head at him; a silent plea for him to abandon this reckless idea died unspoken on my lips. Instead, a spark ignited in his eye, a dangerous glint promising a storm, his head nodding gently.Â
âThere is only one here whose counsel I trust implicitly,â he declared, his voice carrying a conviction that both warmed and terrified me in equal measure.
Lord Larys, ever the opportunist, perked up beside me. âAnd who might that be, Your Grace?âÂ
A flicker of annoyance crossed Aemondâs face. He sat up straight in his chair and pinned Lord Larys with such venom that the cripple must have abandoned all hope before Aemond even spoke. âMy wife,â he pronounced, his tone final.Â
A stunned silence descended upon the council as the weight of his words sunk in, and an ominous shudder coiled up my spine.
âGo on,â Aemond urged, ice in his voice. âVoice your disputes.â He dared them, his fingers resting adroitly atop the hilt of the catspaw dagger at his waist.
âYour Grace is free to choose his Hand as he sees fit,â Maester Orwyle offered, his voice carefully neutral.
âThere has never been a female Hand,â Lord Larys ventured, his tone hesitant and laced with poison.
âThen itâs high time there was one,â Aemond countered, leaning closer, his voice a velvet threat.
âIn these times of war and turmoil, you need a strong Hand at your side, Your Grace.â
A venomous glint sparked in Aemondâs eye. âLike you?â he sneered. âLord Strong.â
Larys recoiled. âI would never presume, Your Grace,â he stammered. âBut if duty called, I would serve you without question.â
âLady Y/N,â Aemondâs voice, cold and deliberate, jolted me from my thoughts, sending a gnawing chill up my spine. âShould I make Lord Strong my Hand in your stead?âÂ
The question was a seismic shift, leaving me teetering on the precipice of disaster.Â
To deny Larys was to accept the mantle of Hand myself, a role I was woefully unprepared for to be sure. To elevate Larys was to gamble the stability of the realm on a man whose loyalty was as fickle as the tide.Â
The latter choice was a chasm of peril.Â
I straightened in the chair, meeting my husbandâs gaze. âLord Larys is a man of expedient measures, his loyalty as fleeting as the wind,â I declared, my eyes locking with crippleâs next to me. âTo name him Hand would be to plunge the realm deeper into chaos.âÂ
Larys returned my gaze with a venomous glare, and I understood the depth of Aemondâs earlier words.Â
The way he looked upon you when crossed demanded his eyes out.
A pleased smile curved Aemondâs lips. âThen it is decided,â he said, rising from his seat. He crossed the chamber to a central plinth and selected one of the smooth marbles. Returning to me, he placed it reverently in the hollow before me, his air lingering briefly. When he sat back down, he fixed Lord Larys with an unwavering glare, his eye narrowing and his nostrils flaring with contempt.Â
âYou heard her, Lord Strong,â he hissed. âOff you limp.â
The cripple offered no further protest, rising with evident reluctance despite the provocation. He leaned heavily on his cane and hobbled from the room, as commanded.
âNow,â said Aemond, splaying his hands on top of the table. âWhere were we?â
Remaining to Aemondâs small council were now Jasper Wylde, Maester Orwyle, and myself. This apparent oversight did not seem to trouble my husband. If given the choice, he would likely rule alone, with me as his sole companion, a prospect I would swiftly dispute.Â
Lord Wylde reported that Ser Criston had finally departed for Harrenhal with the Hightower army. Intelligence suggested Daemonâs position at Harrenhal appeared weakened, presenting a prime opportunity to strike. Moreover, Daeron, along with his dragon, was expected to join the fighting soon, and the Lannister fleet was closing in.Â
âKing Aegon makes slow but steady progress, Your Grace,â Maester Orwyle reported. âHe grows stronger each day. He even managed to stand up for a shirt time this mornâ.â
Aemond hummed thoughtfully. âA long recovery lies ahead, Grand Maester.â
Maester Orwyle dipped his head in agreement.Â
âIf there is nothing further, we will reconvene on the morrow, my Lords,â Aemond declared. âYou are dismissed.â
We rose from our seats.
âNot you,â he said, halting me, knowing he was addressing me without having to look at him. Maester Orwyle and Lord Wylde placed their marbles back onto the platform before filing out, the heavy doors closing behind them.
I turned to him, his air exuding incontrovertible autocracy. There was something so unfamiliar about this man. He wasnât my husband, but someone else entirely. A stranger inhabited his body, a man of iron will and cold fury. Someone that would let the world burn beneath the rage of his dragon and find it a triviality.Â
I wished to pacify him. To quell the fire and take my soft husband from the ashes. If this man in black leather and silver edges would deign to let me near him.
âI understand now the burdens you carry,â I said cautiously, making my careful approach. âSurrounded as you are by a council of deceitful lords with a reluctance to serve you fully.â
His jaw ticked, a tempest of emotions raging within his eye, fury and vulnerability warring with each other.Â
His father was dead, his mother ridden with guilt and misplaced allegiances, his brother burnt and broken, and his sister consumed by grief.Â
He was a Targaryen, left to face the horrors of this war alone. A most terrible fate. The weight of his house rested solely on his shoulders, and violence had become his banner.
âI have it under control,â he growled, though his dancing fingers upon the stone betrayed his words. The burden upon him was a festering wound, threatening to consume him.Â
âIâm sure you do,â I replied, looming over him. âBut that does not mean you must stand alone.â
His eye pinned me with pure venom, sending a sharp chill coursing through my veins. But I willed myself to touch him, as I had so many times before to quiet his rage. My hand instinctively came up to his cheek, my thumb tracing the familiar scar on his cheek, and as Iâd thought â this time were no different. He surrendered to my touch like a storm subsiding, his eye a deep pool, welling with the shimmer of unspoken emotion.Â
âIâm always at your side,â I promised, and his hand came up to cup mine, squeezing lightly with subtle desperation, a silent acceptance of my solace. âWhatever happens,â I assured him.Â
He averted his gaze, as if holding mine would cause the pool to flood.
âSometimes,â he began, pursing his lips to the side, considering his next words for a moment. âIt feels like youâre the only one who is.â
âI donât believe thatâs true,â I said.
âEven so,â he said. âIt would be enough for me.â
A smile crept up the corners of my lipsÂ
My sweet Aemond.
I straddled him in his chair, and he took me into his arms, burying his chin in the crook of my neck. Once weapons of war, his hands now cradled me with a desperate tenderness. Thatâs how we remained for a while, his hands splaying across my back, gripping me with a possessive ferocity, as if heâd never known touch.Â
He yearned to be seen, accepted, loved, flaws and all.
I returned his embrace with equal fervor, our bodies igniting in a conflagration of warmth and desire. I held him so tightly that my arms began to ache, and the heat radiating from our fusion made me perspire.Â
But it was more than his body which heated me. A potent warmth radiated from him, igniting a fire deep within me. The desperation in his embrace had softened into something gentler. His hands rubbed me tenderly, his breath grew shallower, and his lips began to place soft kisses along my neck, which sent want pulsing through me.
He had solidified beneath me, his arousal pressing against my groin, demanding adjustment. Meeting his gaze, his features were no longer etched with heartbreaking peril, but had instead darkened with lust.Â
I pressed myself against his erection, and he let out a rough breath, watching me with languid appreciation as my hands roamed his chest, ran up his neck, into his thick hair, and then delved into the rich fabric of his doublet. I was infatuated with every inch of him. A heady warmth emanated from him, and I was utterly consumed.
A slick heat pooled between my thighs. The insistent pressure of his arousal against my dampened undergarment, a wave of lust blurring my vision. I couldnât resist the urge to grind against him. Our eyes met, hazy, heavy-lidded, urgent. His thumb traced my lower lip, and I didnât hesitate to press my mouth to his. I surrendered to him, his kiss, sweet and lazy at first, then deepened into a demanding exploration of my mouth. His hand searched beneath the pool of my dress. It fisted the fabric of my undergarment and I gasped as he tore it from my hip, revealing my wetness. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he deepened the kiss, his tongue plundering my mouth.Â
My palm caressed his arousal, a reckless abandon consumed me as I stroked him. He drew in a sharp breath, his gaze fixed on my ministrations as I moved my hand up and down his length. His body throbbed beneath my hand, his breathing growing shallow and ragged.
âPerhaps we should retire to our chambers?â I whispered, a shiver of apprehension running through me as the precariousness of our position struck me with a chilling clarity. Â
I was sitting astride him in the council chambers where anyone could enter.Â
âWhat for?â he demanded, his voice a rough growl. His hands claimed my body, swiping up my abdomen, kneading and bruising with a primal force. They squeezed my breasts, his eye admiring them nearly bulging out of my dress. His mouth devoured the valley between them, his tongue and teeth an exhilarating assault.Â
My breath shuddered as I watched him devour my skin with hungry kisses. Words suddenly failed me, and I was unable to articulate a reason.Â
âI am the prince regent,â he growled, his words muffled against my skin. âI will fuck my wife wherever I please.â With that, he rose, sweeping his hands beneath my thighs to place me on top of the council table.Â
âSpread your legs,â he commanded, his tone icy and menacing.
Lust constricted my breath as I obeyed.
His palms caressed my legs upward, his thumbs pressing into my inner thighs with a brutal intensity that unraveled me. As my legs parted, a cold draft swept across my core, and I became acutely aware of my dampness. His gaze lingered there, a mix of heat and corruption that electrified me.
He yanked me closer, his grip on the back of my neck forcing my breasts against his chest as his lips grazed my ear.Â
âThe Hand is dripping all over the council table,â he growled and nipped my neck.Â
The sharp pain lanced my neck as his teeth grazed it. I gasped, but the discomfort transformed into a moan when his thumb found my clit. His hold tightened in my hair, pulling my head back as he lowered my dress, exposing my breasts. His mouth closed over my nipple, sucking on it, igniting a wildfire of desire that consumed me.Â
His thumb traced delicate patterns over my clit, a cadent dance that sent shivers through me. His grip on my hair tightened. A deep groan reverberated in his chest and his attention shifted to my other breast, his tongue and teeth teasing and tormenting me.Â
I leaned back on my hands and arched into his touch, my hips involuntarily bucking under the dance of his fingers. His mouth was a fiery brand on my skin, and I felt as though I were drowning in sensation.Â
When his hands left me, I was left aching for their return.Â
His gaze, dark and intense, held me captive as he grabbed my hips and jerked me to the edge of the table. My legs parted instinctively, and I was lost in a world of heightened senses. His eye followed the curve of my body, falling between my thighs, my core completely exposed to him, and he shook his head in disbelief, running his hands down my calves.Â
âFuck,â the single word, uttered with raw desire, escaped his lips. His strong arms cradled my thighs, before his mouth descended between them.Â
The first hot, wet swipe of his tongue sent a violent shiver through me. A storm of sensation erupted within me as his tongue explored every inch of my damp folds. I was consumed by a primal urge, a reckless abandon that clouded my judgement. A rush of pleasure flooded me, the waves rolling stronger and stronger at every slow lap of his tongue.
My fingers tangled in his thick hair as he licked me from entrance to clit. âOh, Gods,â I moaned, digging my hands into his silver, my blunt nails tugging at his scalp.Â
My gaze skittered toward the chamber doors and my mind surged with anxiety at the prospect of someone coming through them, but I found the thought slipping from my mind when Aemond swirled his tongue over my clit before sucking gently. My eyes rolled back in my head and my hips wound beneath his mouth.
The introduction of his fingers was a spark that ignited a conflagration, a feeling of fullness descending a hazy veil over my mind and body, oil torching through my bloodstream.Â
A tremor convulsed and a shuddering gasp escaped me as his tongue flicked my clit, a cadenced dance foregrounded by the insistent thrust of his fingers. Each of his strokes were a calculated torment, deep, guttural noises of satisfaction escaping him as the sweet nectar of my pleasure ran down his chin. He teased the precipice, slowing when the pressure built, igniting a desperate plea within me.Â
âPlease,â I breathed desperately. His fingers deepened their invasion, intensifying the fire within me. When he slowed again, panic seized me, and I clawed at his hair. Words failed me, reduced to a desperate repetition of a single syllable. âPlease, please, please,â I begged.Â
Finally, he answered my silent demands. His digits quickened and curled, his laps ran steady and drenched my core, until a relentless, hot pressure built.Â
His gaze locked onto mine, his blue eye transformed into a storm-laden ocean. As the world narrowed to a blinding white, I cried out my final plea, his name, obscenities; before the tempest of release engulfed me, my whole body clenching and shuddering beneath him.Â
In its aftermath, a languorous warmth spread through me. I trembled against the table, a puppet on invisible strings as his fingers continued their soothing rhythm.Â
My body, spent and quivering, collapsed onto the cold table, my chest heaving, my eyes closing as the last waves of ecstasy rolled through me.
As the fog began to lift, I opened my eyes to find Aemond reclined in his chair, his face flushed, his lips parted from exertion, his chin glistening from my slick desire.Â
He was a sight, to be sure.
His gaze, dark and rapacious, held me captive. A flicker of hunger danced in his eye, as though he was ready to eat me whole.Â
âWelcome to the small council, my love,â he smirked.Â
Tag list: @plovas69 @quinquinwuincy @lumerstar
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You up? Give us some delicious yandere stuff đ let's say... Fae King yandere and changeling darling đâ¨
This turned into a full fic :3 ~â
In honor of some monster fucking!
Yandere! Dark Fae King x Darling! Changeling
tw: NSFW ⢠Obsessive/Possessive Themes ⢠Non-Human Morality ⢠Kidnapping ⢠afab Reader ⢠￟Dubcon ⢠Oral (F) ⢠Grooming (reader is of consenting adult age) ⢠Forced Mating ⢠Imprisonment ⢠Violence (not toward reader) ⢠Implied Murder ⢠Rough Sex ⢠Praise ⢠Overstimulation ⢠Dumbification ⢠Belly Bulge ⢠Size Kink
Part Two: Here
ââŚhicâŚsniffâŚâ
Dark eyes glanced into the cool night, curious as to what creature was disturbing his evening.
ââŚhicâŚâ it came again, much to his chagrin.
The still lake reflected the full moon like a mirror. To his left, not too far off, he honed in on the disturber. Something small and curled up. Shaking. The oddity enough to catch his full attention as he stood silently. The night his home and prison as he swiftly left in a puff of smoke over to the location of his intruder.
You.
His first instinct to end your miserable life, a human somehow entering his domain and crossing his barriers, but upon a closer look⌠he realized you were of his own kind.
A changeling at that. An abandoned fae left to die in the hands of mortals. Few if any live to maturity like this, but your short human stature led him to believe your growth was surely stunted due to neglect. Young fae needed abundant love and care in their infancy, the first 100 years of life incredibly crucial for their development. Least they end up like him and his kingdom. You were even younger than full maturity, though your physical body had completed itâs growth, your magic was weak and juvenile.
You were making odd noises which drew his curiosity, moving closer to your form, face buried in your lap as you hunched over your drawn up legs. Your feet were bare as the edges of the water lapped at them. Clothing sparse and tattered, rags unfit for even a human, let alone a Fae nearing maturity.
âNoisy little thing,â he hums aloud, startling you as you jolt and nearly throw yourself into the water. Your neck snaps up, pretty face swollen and blotchy from tears looking up and up until you saw a creature looming over you.
Your scream is cut off by a clawed dark hand, slapping over your mouth and muffling the cry as you try to jerk away in fear and panic. He watches in mild amusement, snickering as you realize your struggle is futile and efforts dying down. âScream if you like, but none other than I will hear it out here.â He assures ominously, thin onyx colored lips pulling back to bare his razor sharp canines and pearly teeth at you. His grin savage and delighted in your terror.
He watches curiously as your wide doe eyes well up with tears, the crystalline droplets spilling up and over your cheeks, soft lips quivering beneath his palm. You reminded him of an animal imploring their predator for mercy by revealing their underbelly. There was a word for itâŚ
Cute. His mind conjured at last. He found you cute, a changeling bold enough to intrude into the kingdom of the corrupted. You hadnât even dropped the mirage covering you, old magic from your biological family still covering your natural appearance to mimic the human you parasitized off the life of.
âWhy do you cry little one?â He asks softly, attempting not to terrify you further and avoid his questions.
You hesitate, but his molten gold eyes seem to melt through your defenses despite his dangerous and beautiful appearance. âIâm wrong,â you sniffle, grateful when he removes his enormous hand off your face, the sharp claws tipped in gold frightening against your soft breakable skin. âAll wrong⌠and I donât know what to do.â You curl back up around yourself, as if he too will cast judgement upon you.
He awkwardly mimics your stance, curiosity blazing as watches you in fascination. You find the way his monstrously large form contorts to sit like you somewhat baffling and amusing, less frightened now that he doesnât seem to wish you harm.
âHow are you wrong then?â He pries further, cupping his defined jaw and leaning into his hand as he observes.
âIâm notâŚIâm not humanâIâm aâaâ,â you stumble, unsure if this night is even real anymore. The shock so great youâre still trying to cope.
âA faery?â He supplies, amused by the way you gesture with your hands, expression so open and easy to read. âA changeling raised amongst humans to feed off their happiness?â His deep voice purrs it happily, as if heâs glad for it.
He is. His hatred of humans not something he feels the need to hide.
You appear devastated though, âI didnât mean toâI donât want to hurt or make anyone unhappy.â You mumble miserably, tugging at your hair and skin, as if that will dispel the magic which hides your true appearance.
âThatâs just how our kind is, we need that happiness to grow properly.â He rubbles, eyeing your shocked expression. âWe also happen to be fickle creatures ironically, and if a newborn is thought to need too much care, it is pawned off on humans who have more patience.â He clarifies, smiling as you seem to take him in with new eyes.
âYouâ are you a faery too? You just seemâŚâ he chuckles as you awkwardly trail off.
âEvil? Centuries ago humans once called me the devil,â he laughs, his dark hair falling into his face like a waterfall as he shakes the loose fluffy curls, his pointed horns jutting from the top of his forehead jet black and smooth like ivory. He was too beautiful to call a devil, though you supposed it could be because of that which he was deemed so. His every feature seeming to catch your gaze with itâs beauty.
âI was going to say differentâŚâ you trail off shyly. âYou donât seem evil to me at least.â
He pauses, taking you in again as you regard him with those harmless eyes still wet with drying tears. Itâd been centuries too since heâd left his kingdom, the entrance to the veil this lake he occasionally comes up to lounge by. He hasnât seen a human since then, let alone a changeling or uncorrupted little faery like you.
He likes those pretty tears. He finds it annoying you shed them for humans you should guiltlessly take from.
His smile widens, eyes glittering mischievously and nearly glowing as he leans closer. The smell of sugar and cinnamon wafting off of him as you breathe in, nearly gasping as your mouth waters.
âHowâs this little one? Iâll teach you how to be a faery, to show you there is nothing wrong with you.â
His eyes, where they should be white are entirely inky black, golden irises with reddened pupils framed by dark thick lashes, looked sincerely upon you.
He seemed genuine and kind despite his towering humanoid figure which looked to be capable of killing you easily.
It warmed you though, the thought of wanting to belong strong as you nod with a smile.
âIâd be eternally grateful.â You nod.
Sealing your fate.
âTell me your name.â He asks sweetly, because despite his menacing size and sharp teeth and nails, your new friend was nothing but kind and gentle with you.
âY/Nâ you reply easily, letting him playfully ruffle your hair as he picks out the leaves which got tangled in your locks from your travels here.
When he repeats it though, wonderful shivers shoot down your spine. He smiles, cooing at you like one might a baby as a he teases, âSuch a cute name for a cute faery.â
You weakly protest, but fall into easy laughter as he swiftly changes the subject.
He was discussing proper fae etiquette. The basics, to not say please or thank you or Iâm sorry. They all meant you expected more from the other or wouldnât reciprocate, and that was just bad manners.
His soft hands, which could easily cover your entire face, were settled on your upper arms, having sat you in the grass against his chest.
He liked holding you close. Your little figure so soft, and from the dark circles beneath your human appearance, he assumed the neglect from the humans you resided amongst was growing worse. It was bad for your development.
âYou should come live out here, they are vile creatures you know.â He comments every time you visit, though he never forces you to stay with him.
âItâs because I make them unhappyâŚâ you explain sheepishly.
He shakes his head, thick brow arching as he rolls his eyes. âYou are nearly completely mature now, you suck no happiness from your surroundings anymore silly girl.â Your confusion was palpable as he sighs and further explains, enjoying the squish of your tender flesh as he lightly squeezes you.
âWhile it is true fae infants are quite the hassle to raise, it isnât as tortuous as humans make it out to be. In fact, most fae will take their child back if not treated well by their human surrogates.â
You hum, relaxing back against his warm chest and breathing in his sugary scent.
âSo why wasnât Iâ,â you stop short, brows furrowed but no longer speaking.
He doesnât pry further, leaning his chin atop your head as he looks out at the lake.
âYou wonât tell me?â You push, annoyed how he dances around your question endlessly. Your companion close enough that you feel insulted he wonât reveal it.
âMy name is not to be uttered aloud, least calamity befall this land~â heâs teasing, you know he is, but still he refuses to divulge his name. âI gave you mine,â you argue again, huffing as he chuckles and lightly shoves you to your back on the grass, leaning over you and caging you in beneath him.
The moon is bright like the first time youâd met, illuminating his other worldly beauty.
âIf you wish to call me something, call me Master,â he laughs, his sharp teeth no longer scaring you, but making your thighs squeeze together whenever he flashes them. He acts nothing like an immortal being, too immature and jovial to resemble someone having lived for thousands of years.
âSo why do you get my name, but I donât get yours?â You question in annoyance, avoiding his kiss to your cheek by jerking your face away. He huffs, sharp gaze daring you to dodge again.
You do. Earning yourself a warning nip to your collarbone as you yelp.
âMean!â You cry, pushing at his chest as he snickers.
âYes little flower, I am very, very, mean.â He rumbles, chest literally vibrating much like a cat does to purr.
âYou give me weird nicknamesâŚâ you mutter, giving up as he licks your cheek. You donât fight it, even as it feels foreign to you, trying to accept this side of your culture.
He licks your neck, lavishing the point where your pulse races with wet kisses and you tremble and struggle to act unaffected beneath him.
His smile is dangerous outside your view.
âStar!â You giggle, his rumble of irritation not the least intimidating to you as you roll away.
âThat is an awful nickname.â He hisses, face twisted in disgust as you throw out the most horrendous names you could conjure in your pretty head at him.
âLumi!â He growls.
âThen⌠Kitty?â He nearly bites you, careful not to play too roughly as he lightly tackles you down.
âIf I give you a nickname, will you cease your little game?â He feels his anger fade as he wraps his arms around your smaller figure, easily pulling you into his lap. You donât even flinch, too engrossed in your amusement to care where he handles you. You nod happily, your wish finally being fulfilled.
âVery well you stubborn creature,â he chides, âIn addition to Master, you may also call me King.â
You frown. Clearly displeased by the lack of intimacy in the name. He laughs, amused by your obvious dislike. He kisses your puffed cheeks, over your pouty lips, and down to your vulnerable neck. Snickering as he goes, adoring how you so easily become pliant for him.
âI am teasing pretty flower, there was a time long ago I was called Ava, will you settle now?â He asks, voice husky as he sucks a mark into your skin, your little whine flaring his desires.
A strong urge to press you down and mate you nearly overpowers his control, but he merely holds you close and breathes your floral scent in to calm himself.
âI still prefer KittyâŚâ His eye twitches.
âAva⌠this feels weirdâŚâ he pauses, looking down at your small form still cloaked like a human. Weak beneath him, partially nude as your skirt is pulled up to your soft belly. Your thighs are spread and shaking, his lips sucking another mark onto the thin skin of your inner thigh while you writhe.
He had your wet dripping slit open to the night air and his lustful gaze, begging for his tongue to taste.
âYou donât want to please me?â He asks, purring as you pout but deny. You were such a good little girl for him after all, so eager to learn and soak up his attention.
He resumes, licking down your thigh until his face rested above the warm mound you so sweetly offered him.
âYouâre being so good for me petal, can you keep your legs open or should I help you?â He doesnât need to look up to know youâre shaking in arousal and embarrassment. He can feel the tremors through the air as you struggle to keep your thighs spread as he asked.
âI-I need helpâŚâ you admit, feeling terribly hot as he keeps licking you, except where you seem to ache for him to lick.
He easily shifts forward, arms wrapping around you and letting your legs rest over his shoulders as he finally lets his tongue slip out to taste you.
You glance down, choking at the sight and feeling as he lets his entire tongue come out, the appendage inhumanly long and colored purple. It feels strange, the wet slimy feeling of his tongue slithering through your folds, but when he nudges the tiny nub hidden above your slit, you moan.
It sends jolts of electricity through you, hips canting up so he can to lick there again, earning you a hearty chuckle as he obliges. Licking and even curling his tongue around it, riling you up as your tiny hole leaks arousal and drips down your ass to the earth below.
âYouâre making a mess petal, do you feel good? Should I stick my tongue inside you this time?â You moan, feeling the muscle prod at your unused vaginal entrance, too hazy to bother responding. He doesnât wait for your answer, letting the thin tip of his tongue lap and taste your heady desire before poking and wiggling inside you.
It has your legs shooting straight, back arching as he holds you down with one large hand placed over your belly and chest. He groans as he feels the molten texture of your insides struggling against his intrusion, trying to force him out of your tight heat as he surges forward.
The tip of his tongue curls, swirling up and knocking the air from your lungs as a rush of hot liquid spills from your insides for him to drink down.
You shook and twitched, moaning and curling your hands around his curved horns like a handle.
The touch sends blood racing to his cock, as he moans and loudly slurps your cum down with audible squelching, enjoying the cries you released into the quiet night.
He lets you rest as he pulls back for just a moment, your body limp and panting as your high comes down.
âGood girl~â he praises, leaning over you to kiss softly at your sweaty skin, licking that too and tasting the sweet and salty mixture.
Then heâs pressing his lips against yours, forcing them open to sneak his long tongue inside your mouth, filling it and claiming that space too as his own. Youâre helpless to resist, delirious on pleasure as he devours you, wiggling muscle curling and rubbing erotically around your own.
He tastes like sugar and something heavier, more musky, as you come to realize it as your own taste.
âIs this⌠really normalâŚ?â You can help but ask as he pulls away, his lips still sticking close to trail kisses across your skin.
âItâs quite normal little flower, are you shy still?â He asks curiously, lifting one of your small hands and bringing it to his face, his size dwarfing you considerably. He lightly nibbles on your fingers, making a giggle bubble up as you smile and then squirm when he grins and licks your hand instead.
âA littleâŚâ you admit honestly. Always so honest and open.
He nods, as if completely understanding.
âThatâs alright, weâre in no rush, Iâll teach you slowlyâŚâ thereâs something else not said in his words, and youâre left drunk on his pheromones and lips as he distracts you. Then heâs kissing down, discarding your clothing and leaving you naked for his mouth and curious fingers.
Your breasts are lavished in his saliva, pebbled nipples sucked until standing upright before poked down with the tip of his tongue playfully. Always so playful, Ava nips and teases your skin, blinking innocently when you moan and glare accusingly.
âItâs not my fault you enjoy this so much petal~â he pouts, looking comical and so harmless, his glittery gold wings, almost translucent behind him, fluttering as if indignant to your silent accusation.
The golden tattoos which marked his skin more visible tonight, his clothing more minimal in his wish to feel more of you as he explores and plays.
Then heâs parting your thighs and throwing you into ecstasy again.
âWho did it?â
You sat curled around yourself, terror and dread swirling inside of you at the new side of Ava youâd never been graced with before.
The side you supposed was reserved for his enemies, but now showed to you.
Despite your fear, the tears spilling down your cheeks, and the injuries you bore, you still remained stubbornly silent.
He was going insane with rage and anguish.
You truly were a flower. So delicate and easily destroyed.
âY/N⌠while I am being reasonableâŚTell. Me. Who. Did. It.â
For all the times heâd made himself smaller, less alarming and more charming than his true nature called for, it made this time more appallingly. He stood to his full height, like an unwavering tree he did not budge or allow you to leave, golden eyes flaring and mixing with his red pupils to create something alarming. Even the markings which covered his dark skin seemed to glow and match his eyes, magic crackling in the air and silencing the night further.
As if the stars and moon were frightened too.
Still, still, you did not speak, even as he closed in on you, your fear so strong it almost choked him. Almost. He was too angry, too furious with the humans he liked to cast out of his mind. They needed to be taught a lesson it seemed. Their fear of the Fae renewed. They were becoming arrogant, as if their species was even in the same standing as them.
Your pretty injured face and form, battered from abuse and humiliation, was all the information he truly needed.
If you wanted to protect them, and not tell him, then heâd just punish them all as if they were the culprits.
It soothed him finally, his decision made as the ominous energy around him faded slowly. He let his rage dissipate, worry and concern bleeding through now as he crouched and shuffled towards you, claws spread and outstretched towards you.
âCome here Y/N, keep your secrets, but allow me to hold and comfort youâŚâ his eyes darkened, the glow leaving behind almost a copper color, somber as he looks at you. Thereâs not pity in his eyes though, as you swallow and sigh in relief, grateful to crawl into his warm embrace where it feels safe.
Heâs gentle as he wraps you in his arms, lips and tongue soothing as he tastes your tears and blood.
He grits his teeth, focusing on your scent and the feel of you to calm himself again, before letting his magic seep into your skin. You easily absorbed it, soaking it up like a sponge as your pain and injuries heal.
âAvaâ?â Your eyes widen, amazement in their depths which stroke his ego as he taps his forehead against your own. His horns slightly tangling in your hair.
âDo you not want to drop the illusion on yourself?â He asks softly, staring at the human image your portray. He didnât want to admit it, but it enraged him to see you still trying to live amongst them.
You seem surprised, before looking away nervously.
âIt just feels strange⌠to not see myself anymore,â you confess, burrowing deeper into his chest while enjoying his ability to heal and soothe you. His sugary smell lightening your heavy heart.
He nods slowly, eyes staring at nothing over the still lake.
He holds you a little tighter.
Then youâre asleep.
The burns and screams of the people echo, the night come to life with flames and chaos.
Ava stands leisurely, smile filled with fondness as he watches the human village heâd followed and found to be your residence burn.
Heâd spent all night playing with them, listening to them confess the awful things theyâd done to you, said to you, and tried to do to you. They even thought of sacrificing you to some nonexistent deity, which only prolonged the nightmare heâd turned the populace into.
He laughed as the sounds swirled into music for his ears, the sharp points curling in delight as he hummed a tune older than the trees towering in this forest.
The night was still coming to an end sadly, and heâd need to return to your unconscious body still where heâd left it.
He didnât want to let you wake in your new home alone after all.
His body covered in the blood of mortals heâd torn into and feasted on, Ava left them to perish.
Alone you woke. In a bed four times the size of any normal one, within the walls of a palace youâd only ever seen depicted in stories told by faraway travelers.
You glanced down, at hands unlike ones you were accustomed to seeing. You were nude, unable to hide from yourself as you felt tears begin to sprout. The illusion magic wasnât working, and you couldnât understand why.
This body was your true form, not that of the human you continuously tried to convince yourself you were. You hadnât showed Ava, too afraid heâd see your appearance and dislike you for it.
While he was magnificent, you felt puny and odd.
A hiss snatches you from your self loathing, eyes flicking up to land on the one youâd just been thinking of.
He was covered in something, though you werenât entirely sure what until he moved closer. The pearls lining his chambers glowed softly, his appearance more vibrant as he closed the distance between himself and the bed you laid on.
You sucked in a breath, realization dawning as the red contrasts against his skin. His lower face completely smeared in it, but his lips seemed clean. Until he grinned, red stained sharp teeth with chunks of dark meat stuck in between.
You remembered briefly him mentioning being mistaken for a demon.
You finally understood as a strange fear blossomed in your gut and you scooted away. Confusion and terror consuming you, but your body not catching up with your mind, because it recognized his scent and touch. You didnât move quick enough, a clawed hand easily curling around your ankle and tugging you close. You slid smoothly over the cool silk, brought close to his body radiating heat. He only wore trousers, his taloned feet bare and ankles revealed as heâd cuffed them up to avoid bloody human fingers trying to grip them.
âOh my little flower, look at you,â his eyes are swirling melted gold, enchanting and so disorienting. His beauty becoming savage with the blood and human flesh he adorned.
âA-AvaâŚâ you want to ask, but you also donât want the answer.
Did he find out who hurt you? Or was it unrelated? It seemed too coincidental.
Your chest constricted painfully as he stared down at you in wonder. Your true form so lovely it took his breath away, your image so fitting for you it was a wonder why you didnât prefer this over your human mirage. Your ears, pointed like his own, were curled down a little with your emotions, as his eyes traced your face.
The shape was the same, your body still so small, and your eyes still expressed every little thought without fail.
He hated to admit it was even cuter, though he mused it was likely because he was the first to see your true form.
An abandoned young changeling, one he only took mild interest in, had him so thoroughly ravenous for all of you now.
âIsnât this more comfortable petal? Instead of masquerading as a filthy human, arenât you happier to just be you now?â His callous words seem off, but you canât quite fathom it all as the shock settles in.
âMy precious flower faery, are you scared?â Yes, you wanted to scream, as his bloody face and body near you, his sugary scent over powered by the scent of iron and death. Fae hated iron. He shouldnât be comfortable.
You choked, jerking back and trying to crawl away from him, but he still had your ankle caged in his hand.
He laughs, but itâs empty and devoid of any true humor as he stares down at you with something dark in his gaze.
He yanks you back, harshly and sending a jolt of pain up your leg as you cry out, pulled back beneath him as he crawls onto the bed over you.
Heâs too close, nausea consuming you as you smell and see the gore adorning him.
He finds your useless fear amusing and annoying all at once.
âI asked you a question little flower.â He grips your face, smushing your cheeks and making you look at him.
He rolls his eyes as the tears you so love to shed spill down your cheeks.
âYes⌠I-Iâm scaredâŚâ his smile softens, almost becoming sweet and familiar.
âGood. You should be.â Your blood runs cold.
He has the mercy to bathe, but not alone. You watch as the spray of water from some sort of piping turns pink as it disappears through tiny holes in the marble floor.
Heâs nude, like you, and even though you cower and try to turn away, he easily stops any and all retreats with hardly any effort.
âI thought you didnât like the blood? Iâm still not clean petal.â His fluffy curls are flattened by the water falling above, the warm spray soaking you both as you try not to wonder why the sticky redness wonât just wash away with the water. The dried portions difficult to get off without physically touching and rubbing him with your soapy hands. You wanted to know why he was doing this, being so mean.
His ears look more distinct with his hair flat, onyx horns prominent against his forehead as his lashes hold droplets of water to frame his golden eyes.
You try not to show it, but as the blood clears and his dark smooth gold lined skin is revealed, you notice the hard lines of muscle and purple veins which protrude.
You only come up just below his chest, and you canât look down, least you see it again.
He was making you nervous and scared on purpose, but you couldnât understand why.
Like a coward you didnât ask either, because you feared the answer even more.
Ava shifts, fingers coming up to cup your face in his hands and tilt your head up as he leans over you and blocks the water falling. His claws jut out beside your head, one lightly tickling your pointed little ear.
He licks his lips, loving the sight of you soaked and naked, your pretty form so enthralling to his eyes he struggles to contain himself.
âDo you want my helpâŚ?â His tone is condescending, eyes uncaring in the least about your inner turmoil.
âHere,â he drops one hand, engulfing your wrist and forcing you to plant your hand against his abdomen. âYou have to wash like thisâ,â he teaches patiently, like none of this was happening and everything was fine. He moves your soft little hand back and forth, the soap quick to wash away as the water continues to fall. âYou need more soap petal.â He informs gently, moving to stop the warm spray and letting you both stand in silence now, drops of water falling the only noise besides your breathing.
He sighs when you donât move, your eyes trained on the corner of the spacious bathing room, where an in ground bath rests. He would take you to the hot springs later.
He fills the hand he has control of with soap, and amuses himself with using it like a washcloth, your little fingers curling as your lips tilt down into a frown.
âSince you need the help,â he goads, watching as those sweet familiar doe eyes flash up a glare from the corner of your eye.
He smiles, a nasty grin filled with something sinister as he chuckles darkly. âDonât want to be my good girl anymore?â Itâs a loaded question youâre unsure of how to answer.
It hardly matters as he forces your hand down, until you jolt at the change in body part you were touching. He forces your fingers to close around his throbbing length, unable to touch or fully wrap around it as your head jerks instinctively to look at what he was making you do.
âA-Avaâ,â you try to pull away, but to no avail. He only hums, the soap like lube as he uses your hand to jerk his cock, amused as you stare in shock. He wonât let you go, not when the sight of your smaller form holding his leaking rod is so arousing he comes a minute a later. Hips thrusting with the timing of the squeeze he forces your hand to hold, hot ropes of his seed shooting out onto your chest and belly as he cages you with his free arm from moving away. He allows his purple tapered tip to smear the remaining pearls of his seed on your skin, ignoring your whine of protest as he paints you.
âFuck, thatâs it, be good for me pretty girl,â he growls lightly, chest rattling as he releases his pent up frustration on your confused form.
Really, you couldnât be more adorable covered in his release looking dazed.
His golden eyes heavy lidded as he crouches down to catch your lips in a heated kiss.
You swallow nervously, staring at Ava as he stares at you from across his bed chambers.
Youâd fallen asleep after⌠after bathing, if you could even call it that, and awoken later to find yourself alone again. Ava missing and your body covered by fine silk sheets while you slept.
Youâd scrambled about the room looking for escape, finding nothing but a single exit locked, which Ava now stood before.
He wore a pair of silken sleep pants, tailored to his enormous figure as well as a matching robe left loose and revealing a majority of his chest and abdomen. His wings werenât physical but a magic which naturally formed behind him, youâd learned.
The gold markings on his body were duller than earlier, his eyes less vibrant and more cool as he looks at you.
He seems more⌠familiar. Less of the Ava covered in blood and flesh of humans and more of the one youâve befriended.
Heâs silent, unmoving as he stands still in the doorway.
You donât want to make the first move, unsure in this new environment, but you similarly disliked all of this distance and miscommunication between you both.
You moved cautiously, much like the skittish animal he likens you to in his mind, off the bed. Youâd wrapped yourself in one of his sheets, his scent clinging to you the only thing stopping him from tearing it off you in annoyance. He stays put, muscles taunt and jaw clenched as you approach him like he might harm you.
He debated it.
Briefly showing you why you should be obedient and just listen, but dismissing it in favor of you liking him at least to some degree.
When you reach him, he merely stares down at you, face impassive unlike your nervous and awkward expression.
âAvaâŚ?â He finally shifts, leaning down to close the distance a little but still not touching you. Itâs you who initiates, because heâs certain heâs trained you well enough in your past touch starved state that you canât resist the comfort and warmth he provides. You wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your figure to his while looking up with those honest eyes he adores.
He finally relaxes, your touch so addicting he was unable to resist wrapping you further into his embrace while lifting you up. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, warm bare cunt now pressed against his abdomen while your arms come around his neck. The sheet loosening and falling down to pool at his feet. He finally smiles at your flustered state, not letting you climb down to grab it, instead moving you both towards hisâyourâbed and easily laying you down to drape over you.
âYouâre calmer than I imagined youâd beâŚâ he murmurs against the skin of your neck, kissing up to your jaw. âShould I prepare for your wrath later little flower?â He muses, lifting up to look at your expression.
âWas that blood⌠from a human?â You look guarded but he isnât surprised.
âYes.â
âDid you kill them?â He affirms again.
âWas it because of⌠me?â Those sweet eyes looked so haunted as you asked, as if you knew what he was going to say.
âNo. It wasnât because of you.â
You check his face, as if he were a human and would lie to you as they do.
âThen why did you do it?â You breathed, sagging in relief beneath him. His lips twitch, molten eyes shining with adoration as he looks upon you.
âThey greatly offended me.â He answers vaguely, but it was the truth. They offended him by breathing and walking the earth. It was a direct insult to him. They only met misfortune because they caught his attention.
You seemed happy to accept whatever rid you of any guilt, looking up at him less fearfully now that he was clean and not being mean to you. Though, you both shared very different definitions of being âmeanâ.
âAm I staying the night?â You asked him curiously. You had thought heâd brought you here as he didnât know where your home in the village was when youâd fallen asleep.
He shook his head, lips curling higher.
âYouâre staying forever.â He declares, sweet scent filling your senses as he comes close enough to kiss you.
Then he does.
You thought his teasing was funny, lips tilting up finally as the awkwardness dissipates and familiarity rises.
This is your Ava, warm sweet Ava that smells so good it makes you crave sweets you cannot afford.
He presses you further into the unfathomably soft bed, his lips demanding as you open for him.
âAva,â you break the kiss, breathing heavier as he growls and nips at your bottom lip, a shiver wracking you as he leans back enough to meet your gaze. âWhat weâre doing⌠itâs what lovers and spouses do isnât it? At least, this is what human lovers doâŚâ your voice becomes smaller as he stares down as you with an expression you couldnât name.
âAnd?â He encourages.
You look away for a moment, gathering your thoughts before remembering out of all the cruelty in the world, Ava was the outlier.
âIs that what weâre doing? Like lovers?â You felt too embarrassed to directly state it, to say it aloud, and equally scared this isnât anything different than exchanging a handshake with another faery to him. It was different to you.
âDo you want it to be?â He leans down, placing a feather soft kiss against your temple so you couldnât see his eyes glowing bright. âDo you want us to be like lovers little flower?â His voice is deeper than usual, strained almost as he holds himself perfectly still above you.
You take the time to think, much to his displeasure, but when you answer it was everything for him.
âI do.â
He places a chaste kiss to your lips, his own tilting higher and higher until heâs grinning gleefully.
âThen thatâs what weâll be.â He confirms, and you miss it.
You miss every little trap heâd laid, each tiny piece of the puzzle forming around you like a cage. You miss everything and itâs too late to go back now. Ava muses wickedly, as he kisses you more sensually, lets his claws drag so delicately down your soft skin, he thinks how stupid you are.
âIâll be all yours if you ask for it Y/N,â he speaks directly into your pointed ear, hot breath making the tips curl as you whine. The way he says your name is different than usual, more serious and seductive. You realize this seems wrong somehow, the way heâs making you melt so easily like this, how your panic and fear evaporated so quickly. You arenât given time to think further, when he shifts and sits up. He sneers when you attempt to cover yourself again, gripping your wrist and lightly pulling you up too. On your knees, you face his chest, eyes looking up to see his heated expression.
Ava cups your jaw with one hand, and pokes at your lip with the other.
He doesnât ask before his thumb invades your mouth, and you fight not to bite down or jerk away with his pointed claw inside.
Heâs exploring, squeezing your cheeks until you open wide so he can playfully run over your sharpened canines. Curiously playing with your tongue until he leans down licks it with his own. It felt strange and erotic, your body vibrating with nerves and budding arousal as he explores you.
âAvaâŚâ you wanted to touch him too, but he didnât seem to be listening as he lets his hands trail down to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples as your back arches into them.
So you let your own hands wander, bolder than usual as you feel his solid form beneath you. His skin is much softer than it appears, strange markings and golden symbols flat. He had no softer points aside from that, muscles like stone and occasionally uncomfortable to lounge against due to it.
He squeezes your waist, smiling mischievous as you yelp and glare at him. He does it again, finally chuckling as he lets his hands slip to your ass.
This time his squeeze makes you gasp, as he parts your ass cheeks and allows your heated core to be exposed to the air. His claws so careful not to tear your skin open as he drags you taunt against him, rutting his hardened cock against your soft belly.
He moans aloud as he sees the tip poke out between you, your breasts above a delicious sight as he does it again and again.
âYou drive me wild pretty faery,â he smiles, licking your cheek as he easily lifts you up to toss you to the center of the bed. You sink in, huffing but giggling as he crawls over you, looking like a dark angel as he covers you completely to capture your lips in a much more filthy kiss.
âI want to devour you,â he purrs, licking and kissing down your neck and chest, spreading your legs. âMake you mine completely,â you moan, feeling delirious as he finally licks your sloppy pussy.
You moan when you feel his fingers prod your entrance, sharp claws gone and retracted as he pushes one inside you while he laps at your clit. It feels different and firmer than his tongue, able to rub and stretch you better as he begins sucking on your puffy nub and purring deep in his chest. âYour little nub is hard~ are you feeling good?â He teases, wiggling the tip of his tongue over your engorged clit.
Then heâs pressing a second finger in, a mild burn heating your core as you gasp and try to shift away to no avail. âSo sensitive,â he murmurs, spearing them into you, your soft gummy walls forcefully spread around the two digits as he noisily slurps. Heâs being messy and a bit rough, but your moans spur him on as he groans into your pussy when you begin clawing at his hair and whining.
âAva! Sâtoo much! Canâtâ!â You squeak and almost bite your tongue when you cum, pussy sucking his fingers deep and massaging them as you soak his hand and face.
He doesnât stop, eyes glowing bright molten gold as he watches you squirm and babble senselessly while he stuffs a third finger into your poor overstimulated cunt. Your little hole stretched wide around him, and heâs content to watch as your greedy lower mouth takes it as he pumps them into you.
Youâre less amused though, body thrumming as the pleasure becomes overwhelming and you panic.
âStop, Iâm gonna make a mess, Ava stopâ!â You cry out, eyes watering before tears fall as you struggle to stop the powerful pressure building in your core, hurting you with the intensity as he pushes you further and further. âYour insides are steadily swallowing and sucking my fingers in, arenât you a little lewd?â He asks, unaffected by your dull nails digging into his forearm, eyes trained on your drooling hole below.
Heâs got an iron grip on your hip with his other hand, nails digging into your flesh every time you try to squirm away. âYouâre so lovely like this petal.â
Heâs fascinated when you break again, clear fluid squirting up and out from your squelching pussy as he continues to shove his fingers in.
You cum so hard it nearly causes you to lose consciousness, eyes rolling back as you twitch and moan as the dam inside you bursts open.
You whine as he pulls free, hand dripping in gooey arousal as he brings it to his lips and slurps it up without any decorum, appearing almost starved as he gazes down at you with the eyes of a predator. âMessy girl~ Iâll teach you though,â his lips pull back to reveal his sharp teeth, âWhen you feel so good you think youâll break, youâre supposed to say Iâm coming, do you understand?â He asks darkly.
âNo moreâŚâ your weak plea only makes him smirk, kissing you softly as he slides forward and uses both hands to cover your hips and lift your lower half up.
Your eyes feel heavy as you force them open, slow to realize that his enormous cock is now laid over your pussy, pulsing and dragging back and forth through your slick folds. The thick veiny appendage causes your trepidation to rise, realization dawning that he intends to fit that inside of you.
âIt wonât fitâ,â you werenât being cute or coy, because while you may not be human, your form was still the same size as one. He was much, much bigger, and his cock certainly fit his proportions. You try to catch his attention, unable to close your legs with his body between them. âAva,â Heâs truly not hearing you at all, too enthralled and excited as he lubes his massive length up with your juices. Heâs shaking a bit too, heart beating rapidly in his chest as he coos down at you mindlessly, golden orbs almost unseeing at this point as he lines up with your entrance.
âSo good for me petal~ youâre all mine arenât you?â He breathes, and you feel the weight and pressure begin as his tip breaches.
âWait, stop Avaâ!â You whine as the sting becomes a burn and then youâre being filled to the point of excess as you struggle to breathe anymore.
âShhââĄ,â he hushes you, pained as well due to the pressure around him, strangling him as he grimaces and drags back out a little before surging forward. âYouâre mine now petal,â he groans.
Youâre unable to form words as he works his cock into you like a piece which doesnât quite fit, bullying and stretching you open to forcefully fit himself.
He leans more weight down onto you as you struggle and writhe, noisy cries falling on deaf ears as he feels himself slipping deeper as your body finally gives up on keeping him out. His tip touches your cervix, before shoving even further and smashing it up as your stomach aches in protest.
You lay limp as he finally bottoms out, twitching with your mouth open and drool pooling down your chin as you feel nothing but the feeling of him inside you. He huffs a laugh, the way you look ruined before heâs even gotten started.
You look like a doll in his grasp, his cock extending your stomach a little as it twitches inside you. Your thighs ache as theyâre naturally forced up, unable to spread fully enough for him to settle so heâd merely folded you and pressed you down to prevent escape.
âYou did it pretty girl, look at you~â he grins, one hand leaving your hip to press on your belly, making your eyes widen and roll back as you whine. âYou took every inch of me in this cute cunt didnât you?â This male over you isnât familiar, even as his sugary scent seems to increase and smother you, he seems foreign in his words and actions.
The inconsistencies are difficult to track as he drags himself out of you, the fullness replaced by feeling each ridge and bump of veins decorating his cock as he slides out.
Then heâs pushing in again, stealing your breath and ability to think as he starts to fuck you.
âDonât worry petal, I wonât hurt you,â you canât quite understand as he pushes his thick rod inside you, brain shutting off as you go pliant in his hold. âIâll go nice and slow so you never forget,â he moans as you tighten and jerk, âwho owns you.â Heâs holding back with all his might as you spasm and grip him in inside of you, walls sucking him back in as he moves to exit.
You make him forget.
As you slick his cock up with your juices, he begins to slip in easier, folding you down further into a mating press as he looks down at your teary face. You make him forget all the time heâs spent alone. Your moans increase as he picks up the pace, pounding nice and deep inside of you and ridding you of any thought beside him. He slips a hand down between you both, claws retracted completely as he softly presses on your swollen clit and throws you reeling into another orgasm around him. âSay it petal,â he grits out, the feeling of you tightening drawing his own end. Heâs hardly able to move inside you, short thrusts all he can manage as he drags you over the edge.
âIâm comingâ!â Your head tips back, neck bared to his eyes as you cum for him obediently.
He fills you up right after, heavy engorged balls drawing up as he pumps his first load of the day into you. His thrusts not stopping as he rocks forward, expression relaxing as his magic swirls inside of you, his mating mark slowly sinking into your soul as he works to keep his seed deep within your womb. Youâre too fucked out to notice, the pleasure and pressure overwhelming your senses as you try to rest now.
Except his cock doesnât soften.
He thrusts hard once heâs sure his bond has settled, feeling you so much deeper in his soul as he drags his cock out almost all the way. âItâs like your little hole misses me already,â he smiles, watching as you flutter around his tip as if to tell him you donât want him to leave. âTell me petal,â he slides back inside, jolting you awake as you stare incredulously down at where you both connect. The slick sounds of him slipping into your sticky wet entrance haunting as you whine, hands digging into fine silk as you try to push away.
He only presses you down harder, cock burrowing deep as if to anchor you. His eyes are wild and swirling, the color so bright itâs almost blinding in the dim room. âHow does it feel to lose?â
You blank. His question not making any sense as the room spins and youâre overcome again with pleasure so intense it makes your toes and feet curl in the air where they rest.
âHow does it feel to be utterly mine for the rest of eternity?â You gasp, tearing at the sheets as he picks up the pace, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to truly fuck you now. Enormous cock working you into a frenzy as you yelp when two fingers pinch painfully around a nipple. âYouâre not going back pretty girl,â he laughs, face wicked and beautiful as you look up through blurry eyes spilling tears. âYouâll not return to that filthy human village,â he releases your sore nipple in favor of loosely gripping your throat, feeling your pulse beneath his hand. âYou are not in the land of Fae sweet flower,â he lets his lips ghost over yours, his tip bullying your cervix as you writhe and move to claw at his shoulders. âYou are in my kingdom, ours, where the corrupted Fae separate themselves,â youâre lost, eyes crossing almost dumbly as you come again, choking as you cry out his name.
You canât move even an inch, unable to even squirm as youâre forced to take each punishing inch of his cock and he ruts into you.
âYour pussy keeps tightening up when I tell you all the ways youâre mine. Do you like this?â He delights in your pathetic attempt to push at his chest, clearly finished despite his balls still being heavy with his seed he intends to spill into you.
âA-Av-Ava!â You struggle to form even his name, let alone any sentences as he keeps up his fast and brutal pace. Though, from his perspective he was still holding back as he moans and spills himself inside you again.
âYes flower?â He coos, pushing your hair out of your sweaty face as he pulls out just enough to grip your thigh and turn you on your side, sliding back to the hilt again. He hugs your leg to his chest, working his cock at a new angle in your abused pussy still spilling cum from earlier. âIâm listening,â he chuckles, knowing you canât speak, aware his cock was keeping you like this.
Words die down as he uses his hand not holding your leg up to grip your hip, holding you still while pushing his hips forward, railing himself inside your exhausted body. Your head rests against the bed, mouth open as your saliva soaks into the sheets, eyes staring at nothing as you feel another impending orgasm approaching.
Ava doesnât mind, adoring the cute cock drunk expression as he uses you like a toy, filling you up over and over while you slowly lose your mind. âIâm sorryâAva please, Iâm sorry,â your slurred speech and delirious voice make him laugh. Genuinely amused by your rambling, âWhy are you sorry petal? Iâm not mad,â he catches your lips, tongue invading and swallowing your cries. He finds you so cute.
His cute, stupid little changeling, so trusting and unaware of his unsavory intentions.
You lose consciousness and count when he comes with his hips pressed deeply into your ass, pressing you belly first into his hand as he keeps you angled up to meet his thrusts. Your sensitive chest rubbing against the silk below, body limp as your world goes black and you convulse around him.
This time he lets you fall flat into the soaked bedding, taking his still hard cock out so he can pry apart your pussy lips and watch his release ooze out of your gaping hole.
His golden eyes flick up to your sleeping form, lips pulling as he coos, âCute~âĄâ before heâs stuffing you full again, merciless as he leans on one arm to keep from crushing you as he continues to drill into you.
Even when you regain consciousness, trying to crawl away from his torturous pleasure, he only grips your arm and twists it gently behind you to hold. âYouâre soaked and so hot inside, do you know how crazy youâre making me?â He groans, almost sounding like heâs in pain as you squeeze and come again. âIâm not letting you go, stop trying to run. Youâve already lost sweet girl.â As he lifts his hips, tip still encased by your wet hot heat, he eyes the slick mess which coats you both and connects you to him. âGo ahead and go crazy too, be good and listen.â He laughs, slamming back in and making your back arch as you nearly scream, feeling him so deep it makes you wonder if heâs going to break you. You really will go crazy, itâs a fleeting thought stolen by his cock once again, but you truly worry as he drowns you with euphoria and madness.
Heâs hunched and leaning over your back, letting his tongue and teeth tease your ear so sweetly while he pounds you stupid, whispering to you things you wonât remember.
âYou wanted my name so badly, didnât you my lovely mate?â He knows you donât understand, but it doesnât stop him from speaking on, husky voice lulling you as you cry and lose yourself to pleasure. âIâll tell you since youâre being so good, taking my seed so well~â he lets a little more weight settle on top of you, his cock nestling into your deepest parts with it.
âI am Avarice.â
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#Dark Fae King x reader#Yandere Fae King x reader#Yandere Fae#monster smut#Greed x reader#Fae smut#faecore#yancore#yandere x reader#fae king#yandere smut#Dark Fae#kinktober fun#request filled#afab reader#Fae x reader smut#changeling#changeling reader
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We've considered Weretenrec Gold before because if there is anyone who would not be able to handle it, it would be this poor gal; but what about Werecat Blaze Gold would need to care for? :>
Hmm, there's few Gold needs to do, I think...
I figure Blaze would take the whole situation quite well, maybe getting withdrawn at nights and preferring to avoid any looks, even from her friends maybe, and fearing to lose control of this form and totally wanting to solve it asap all by herself... Okay, maybe that's not very well at all kakakakak a very catastrophic start actually, brand new powers might bring back some very bitter memories and a monstrous form on top would give them an extra dose of dreadness đđđ she surely wants to get rid of it asap, what if she loses the control any night? đđ
Luckily Gold would take note of what's going on her girlfriend's mind quickly enough (with some inadvertent use of telepathy maybe) and thus be capable to figure out how to talk to her soonly enough, to remember her that she doesn't need to deal with everything on her own, that none of her friends is gonna be afraid of her new powers, that she will soon master these new powers just like she did to her usual powers đđ
After this initial hastiness though, realising it's not being that hard to deal with this form at all, Blaze might allow herself to chill a little, especially since Gold adores to snuggle with her every second when she's this bigger and fluffier werecat... (It breaks her heart to let her go to the fights đ) Also maybe she finally gets to be the taller girlfriend for 12 hours (even if just an inch)? đ Or not and she can only lament that even as a monstrous werecat she is inches shorter than her beloved đ¤đ¤ (at least she gets to be at eye height for 12 hours)
đ¤đ¤đ¤ In other hand... Welp... Blaze could end up getting her "werecat" form facing her dimension's equivalent to Dark Gaia đđ It could then be a different transformation as well, inspired by a different creature đ I've considering something mermaid-like as to explore the island thematic đ I like how "mercat" sounds... She could lose all the fur in exchange to scales... Or maybe something like dolphins' skins (unless they have scales too, se sim abafa o caso) or sharks', crazy to think the sharp teeth could remain thanks to the sharks...
đ¤ Then Gold would accompany her (and Marine) throughout a journey across the world, likely dealing with the same initial problem of Blaze getting even more withdrawn and wanting to avoid any looks... But the fact she can and will dive really deep would make the approach quite harder... (Gosh, then it's still needed to figure out how the whole transformation process would work akakkakakakak)
đ¤ In a race to save the world Blaze have to be far more pragmatic though đ¤
Either way: in the end Gold will remember of this as The Time She Lived a Fairytale Romance⢠of her own hehe, and she will miss Blaze's transformation far more than Blaze
#just ocurred me that 'werehog' makes it very easy to come up with variations to the other characterz...#but hedgewolf is what makes more sense akakakak#thanks for the Ask#i figure if werecat is some sort of shenanigan Blaze got into during a visit to Sonic's world (either present or future)-#-then everyone almost discovers she's going solo and investigating on her own through some cryptid videos that ended in TV-#-what Gold promptly tries to cover up with some very unecessary complex and suspicious story#wonder how and from who she could manage to keep a werecat form hidden đ¤#gold x blaze#goldaze
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⎠â altar girl.
hasnât it been written that wherever the fire of evil blazes, a god will be there to douse it? but who saves the damned if a god kindled the fire?
tags â true form!sukuna x concubine/f!reader. 3k wc. explicit smut. dubcon at first (trust me in this one pls). exhibitionism. thigh riding. doggy style. manhandling. rough sex. womb fucking. humongous cock!sukuna (hello???). multiple orgasms. mindbreak. drool. cunnilingus bordering on tongue-fucking. orgasm denial once. he carries you. creampie. lots of cum. fuckton of religious symbolism. physical violence against the reader but not from sukuna. sukuna calls you brat like one time. minors, ageless, and blank blogs dni.
from hunter â not to be dramatic or whatever but i do feel like this fic took a huge chunk off of my sanity ⌠the things i do for sukuna omg ⌠if this flops i will officially retire from tumblr /j + also it's 3 am for me so i didn't proofread the last bits and i prolly got lazy ... ha ha ... âŽ
gods exist.Â
the annals of history tell us so.
they exist in a way that no mortal can comprehend, for a god is more than a face. they leave their imprints not with their feet but with the rise and fall of dynasties, the ruination of empires, and the death of kings. they materialize as the birth of a deluge and they rise as the reason for war. it is not the body that proves their existence but the carnage they leave behind.Â
they have manifested before human eyes through myriad guises, and once again incarnated in the flesh of ryomen sukuna.Â
many have met their untimely demise at his hands; he walks the earth with their tormented souls at his feet. from village to village, their numbers increased until a procession of weeping thickened behind him. hundreds of graves mark the land since his advent, and yet the heavens remain deaf to the hysterical prayers for justice. only he can hear the prayers; only he laughs at them.Â
they say he is a devil. you say he is a god. because only a god can saturate the earth with blood and emerge unpunished from such transgression. hasnât it been written that wherever the fire of evil blazes, a god will be there to douse it? but who saves the damned if a god kindled the fire?Â
ryomen sukuna, in a form of some twisted mockery, decides to act the part. and so like every famished god, he demands a sacrifice to satisfy his voracious appetite. you would think that a house of gold would placate his hunger for blood, but riches mean nothing to him. his appetite needs flesh and it is flesh he got.Â
âhave i been too lenient that youâd dare fight amongst yourselves when iâm not around?â his voice reverberates inside the room. low, guttural, and pregnant with malice. it is enough to scorch everyoneâs lungs with tension.Â
you want to run away from this nightmare. go back to the peaceful bliss of mundanity when sukuna is only a piece of horrifying tale used to frighten children and not an absolute being seated cross-legged mere inches away. you try transporting your mind back to the days before his pillaging, before your village succumbed to his authority. yet his pervasive presence obstructs all your pathetic attempts at nostalgia.Â
âlook at what you did to the poor girl.â two of his four hands sweep you from your position to his lap, parading you to the rest of tearful eyes looking at him with entreaty.Â
and it stingsâ their eyes. youâre in the claw of a savage hound from hell, ready to be devoured, with only your hadajuban as protection. even in this pitiful state, they offer no sympathy. their tears are for themselves alone despite their cruelty being the reason for your shared plight.
selfish bitches.Â
âwas it jealousy that caused this infighting? have i not divided my attention to all of you equally?â sukuna continuously taunts, lacing his voice with poisonous prudence. he fools no one and thatâs what urges him forward. everyone knows that his seemingly laidback attitude is plain derision. nonetheless, he tastes the lingering hope in each of your faces before dragging his teeth along such pathetic daydreams.
ây⌠you have, my lord,â one of the women answers, her voice betraying a noticeable stutter. âif you would permit me to speak, i can offer his lordship an explanation for what transpired in the courtyard.â
sukuna emits a languid sigh as he rests his cheek upon his fist. he runs a rough hand down your arm, triggering vibration in the pit of your stomach. his hand is as huge as your face, his fingers long enough to snap your neck with ease. despite the surge of terror, you fight the urge to retch.
after a moment of battling your dread, itâs repulsion that filled you afterwards. repulsion rising from the womanâs explanation for your wretched state. the rest of the women nod their heads along with her account of how you tripped on a slippery stone multiple times, causing your current injuries, as if youâre a toddler who cannot orient her legs properly.Â
they will save themselves with falsehood.Â
sukuna yawns after the womanâs narration. his set of eyes seeking you after in the silence.Â
âthis matter is of your stupidity, then? youâve wasted my time, brat.â he dips his cadence in amusement and disgust.Â
anger flares within you, filling your nose and ears with the bitter scent of hatred, yet its heat descended down your throat, dampening your ability to defend yourself. what is one against many? there are twenty concubines in this room and nineteen of them just sold you to your demise for unintentionally raising this trifle to the lord of the land.
all of thisâ all of this merely because they have immersed themselves in playing a game in which youâve been excluded since your arrival. after all, youâre just another competition for sukunaâs attention.Â
âhave mercy, my lord,â you whisper, on the verge of losing your sentience. âi⌠i mean no disrespect. itâs⌠itâs stupid of meââ
sukuna drawls, âspeak no more of your nonsense. i have heard enough.âÂ
distressed apologies race past your mouth, along with entreaties that he spares your life. but you shouldâve known that a god wonât turn his back on the sacrifice of blood.Â
thus, when his enormous body finally moves to encase your fragility, you close your eyes and with jittering teeth have accepted your fate. you wait for the final release of death, a snap or his fist through your heart, but none came. instead, at your feet lay your torn garments, casting your nakedness before the other concubines in a humiliating display. the crisp air blows against your nipples, causing them to pucker tight. the same air turns your blood gelid, your bones immovable.Â
ânow, letâs see what all the fuss is about.â from behind, sukuna gropes your breasts, swirling the tips of your nipples with his fingers. âiâll kill anyone who looks away.â the warning is vehement, ripe with threat, that even mere insects wonât dare defy it.Â
is this the ultimate act of worship? to be stripped of all your layers? to be eaten?
his lips latch onto the bareness of your neck, sharp teeth dragging across the skin. the silence is thick, saved for the sound of your uneven breathing and the rustling of fabric as the concubines shift uncomfortably on their seats. sukunaâs wet and unusually long tongue starts licking the base of your shoulder to the back of your ear, before placing his thick and robust thigh between your quivering legs.Â
your exposed cunt sticks to his skin, pussy folds flapping open. with practiced ease, as if manipulating the strings of a marionette, he subtly guided your movements. he has your pulsing clit riding the ridges of his thigh as if gushing all over will save you from inevitable demise.Â
âm⌠mhm!â no longer entirely in control of your own form, you turn and sway in a helpless dance to his handsâ command. a gasp tinged with surprise and undeniable pleasure, escapes your lips and echoes softly in the confines of the room. you feel the searing heat of the concubinesâ gazes drilling into you, a tangible weight of disapproval and something more primal â a flicker of envious fascination.
âfor a condemned woman, arenât you loving this too much?â sukuna takes the reins to your body. with speed that has your heavy tits bouncing, he secures your waist and drags your slick pussy faster and more recklessly.Â
pleasure, sharp and electric at first, surges through your core, blossoming outwards like a firework. your cunt clenches and unclenches involuntarily, a delicious tremor wracking your body. the world narrows, sound and sight fading at the edges as every nerve ending sings with a single, glorious purpose. slowly, the intensity ebbs to leave a pleasant afterglow that paints your limbs with a newfound weight.
youâre but a tiny speck compared to sukunaâs imposing body; a feeble creature under the jurisdiction of a god.Â
possessive hands have found you in your fleeting refuge, scooping your lower body up like you weigh nothing. with the tip of his finger he traces the curve of your spine, pressing enough weight to flatten your stomach against the tatami mat.Â
âeven your back is filled with lacerations,â he points out brusquely.
sukunaâs hefty cock drops to the base of your spine, its puffed up cocktip lazily pulsing to leak his thick liquids of pre-ejaculate. it mustâve been a whole arm laying heavy against your spine, warm with a gluttonous desire to ram itself through the sloppy confines of your pussy.Â
and you lay there, waiting for his teeth and his claws and his animalistic hunger to devour. he presses his chest to your back, filling your ears with promises that heâs going to feed on you, eat you down to the marrow of your bonesâ and youâll love it.Â
âlook at them,â sukuna hisses as he tugs at your forehead, âi want you to look at them while i fuck you.â
with your flesh youâve received him like some kind of communion from root to tip. he hammers your cunt with his cock, until the heat of his savage lust reaches the pit of your belly. you feel his warmth soiling your cervix and uterus with every vigorous thrust.Â
âoh! m⌠mhm!â  completely overtaken by sukuna, your thighs can only twitch as he destroys your insides.Â
âyouâre soaking wet,â he groans in your ear, deliberately adjusting his pace so he can coat his thick girth all over with your creamy hole, âand so fucking tight.âÂ
sukuna grunts like a wounded animal each time his cocktip kisses the smooth spot of your womb. a sheen of sweat glazes his body, tattoos aglow in the lanterns, from manically fucking your cunt. he bares his fangs whenever you tighten around his shaft enfolded with prominent and proud veins.Â
the once vibrant forms of the concubines, their faces alight with prurient interest, dissolve into a sea of indistinct shapes as fog descends upon your sight. youâve been reduced to a babbling and drooling mess, unable to grasp the reality that youâre being mounted and fucked to madness before several witnesses.
sukuna extends his hand, searching for your abandoned clit during his primal need to turn your pussy to pulp.Â
âthere it is,â he breathes against your clammy cheek, satisfied at his discovery.Â
ân⌠no! not thereâŚ!â you pant as the last thread of reason frays and snaps.Â
a tempestuous force of pleasure sweeps through you, leaving behind a tremor that has shaken you to the core. around you, a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations spins until a guttural moan runs from your lips, delivered by the exquisite torment of rapture. your nails scrape desperately across the tatami mat, clinging at the remnants of spilled sanity.Â
sukuna cackles at your desperation to find a momentâs reprieve. the roughened end of his fingers dip into your yielding flesh as he forcefully slams your pussy back to his cock. Â
âyouâre not going anywhere,â he pronounces frenziedly, his eyes blowing wide. sukunaâs desperation for release intensifies to the point where heâs blatantly manhandling you, brutalizing your cunt and his cock during the process of reaching zenith. flesh meets flesh, fervid thrusts after fervid thrusts, until he feels that familiar coil in his own stomach.Â
sukuna plugs your abused cunt with inconceivable amounts of cum. his cock pulses wildly, shooting globules straight to your womb itâs almost physically possible to feel his viscous cum filling every crevice of your uterus. when heâs finally pulled out, ropy cum still links his raw cocktip to your pulsing pussy hole. despite such a mind-numbing culmination, sukunaâs cock refuses to yield. it springs up proudly, aching for another taste. Â
âwhat a sight,â sukuna issues with cavernous and demonic utterance, pertaining to your body lying inert upon the tatami mat. he sweeps the sodden hair from his brow with a lordly air, his pride evident in the contemptuous curve of his lips.Â
look at the state heâs reduced you to. his thick ejaculation pools around your lower body because your little pussy canât hold all of him. with an indifferent shrug, sukuna lowers his formidable body to your level. and only when the malevolent glint in his eyes becomes apparent does the gravity of the situation dawn upon you.
he starts fucking your cunt with his tongue.
you grit your teeth in response as sukuna places your knees upon his shoulders, burying the slimy width of his tongue in your heated pussy. itâs no mere lickingâ heâs practically shoved his tongue up your gummy walls, toying with the warmth of his cum pooled in your poor cunt while simultaneously licking your puffed up clit.Â
âo⌠oh! c⌠canâtâ please, please!â drool seeps between your gritted cuspids after your hysterical plea.
pearlescent tears warm the corner of your eyes. your sensitivity from his rigorous fucking has not yet abated, but another swell of release approaches at a handâs reach. down to your heart, the bundles of nerves and veins constrict painfully because itâs too much. you have nowhere else to put the pleasureâ the imminent pinnacle will utterly ruin you.
iâm losing my mind
iâm losing my mind
iâm losing my mindâ
when ecstasy is but a heartbeat away, sukuna withdraws, denying you the finality your body craves. as if saved from drowning, you suck in and grace your lungs with air only to be propelled back to the brink of delirium when he lifts you up from the floor like a breeze.Â
with carnal ferocity, he seizes the meaty flesh of your haunches with two of his limbs, while the others secure your torso. there and there, sukuna slots his insatiable cock in your dribbling cunt; an act that heâs accomplished without effort because youâre so wet, heâs slid right in.Â
everyone has witnessed sukunaâs cock abusing your tingling pussy; all can see how he bounces your tingling cunt along his stiff length without strain.Â
âyes⌠squeeze my cock like the obedient girl you are,â he sibilates on your face, followed by a harsh chuckle. âyou canât hear me now, can you?â
the voice is a distant echo, barely perceptible to your waning senses. your body, devoid of strength, limps completely in sukunaâs embrace. he buries his face in the crooks of your damped neck, groaning and babbling as he ruts into your swollen pussy.Â
âhow come youâre still so fucking tight?â
hasnât he prepared you for his sheer girth? hasnât he stimulated your pussy enough to hug his cock smoothly and effortlessly? youâve already coated his balls shiny with all the slick your cunt has produced, but sukunaâs chest tightens because youâre milking him with a viselike grip.Â
yes, it is human that heâs even affected by this carnal desire. what more can he do? he feels faint with exultation merely by fucking you.Â
sukuna pumps your pussy to the hilt with slow yet profound thrusts. he bares his teeth down the blade of your shoulder as the maelstrom of release engulfs him completely. battered by waves of ecstasy, he grunts with your flesh between his teeth, the rough sound reverberating deep from his belly.
you mustâve reached the peak with himâ you absolutely cannot tell. the only thing that your puddled mind can grasp is the swirl of his potent cum in the pit of your womb and the endless pulse of your cunt as you struggle to accommodate his release.Â
petrified and silent, the remaining concubines are as fixed in place as if struck by an immobilizing spell. yet they watchâ they watch intently while sukunaâs cock throbs with white strings of cum dripping from your cunt hole down to his balls and thighs. a hefty amount pools beneath him, oozing from where the both of you are connected.Â
the envy that consumed them is a silent, suffocating thing, a palpable presence thick enough to choke. this envy deepens as they witness the delicacy with which sukuna has placed your dormant body on his own tatami mat. they grit their teeth secretly, throwing every known curse your way. may your womb not bear the fruits of sukunaâs seed, they vehemently pray.Â
for ryomen sukuna, itâs nothing but a momentâs weakness, a foreign string of unknown emotion that youâve managed to evoke from him. and even though heâs beyond human grace, heâs wasted your body to his own satisfaction, itâs only right to touch you with his claws retracted.
âperformance is over, my dearests,â sukuna announces while a smirk tugs at his lips. facing his concubines, he dons his fundoshi haphazardly that it barely covers what it means to hide.Â
âw⌠what will become of her, my lord?â one dares to ask.Â
a fleeting, imperious gaze from sukuna sweeps over you before ushering the women from the opulent chamber. âyou shouldnât worry yourselves about such trivial matters. she will meet her own reckoning by my hands.â
a wave of malicious satisfaction ripples through the group as they exchange covert nods. youâre already a dead woman. with poisonous glee, they bow before ryomen sukuna with their faces shaped in unbridled mirth.Â
âmake sure that my wives are accompanied home safely,â sukuna orders the nearest guards. he tastes their fear hanging heavy in the air just by being in his presence. oh, humans.Â
as the group began to retreat, they cast over their shoulders a flurry of flirtatious farewells to the imposing sukuna. however, before they could vanish entirely from sight, his deep voice cut through their progress.
âguards, before i forgotâŚâ sukuna displays a grotesque smile filled with malice. âkill them all. i want nineteen heads on my feet tomorrow.â
they say he is a devil.Â
you say he is a god.Â
and despite all the names, sukuna has found himself a place of worship, with you as his altar.Â
#mine âŽ#tw dubcon#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x y/n#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n
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Im so obsessed with all your canon fics AND ur rafe x thorton!reader đ are u able to do one based off s2 ep 8 where topper is tryna look for his sister at tannyhill even though rafe and reader had a huge argument and werenât on speaking terms and rafe gets all protective when topper says âIâll just track herâ
Tracked || Rafe Cameron x Thorton!reader
idk where this gif is from soz :(
A/n: thank uuuuuuu đ hope u like this :)
Warnings: slut-shaming, swearing, if thereâs anything else lmk
Word count: 745
MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)
divider by @h-aewo
"It's seven feet high, plated in gold, and encrusted with diamonds. What do you think?" The guy's tone dripped with condescension. Rafe's eyes narrowed as he scoffed, "I was just asking."
The low rumble of an approaching vehicle drew their attention. The sound grew louder until a high-rise car came into view, gliding to a stop nearby. The door opened with a careful click, and out stepped Topper.
"Shit," Rafe muttered under his breath. He straightened up, eyes narrowing further as Topper approached. "Hey, Rafe," Topper greeted, his voice attempting to be calm but betraying a hint of nervousness. "I've got no beef, man. I'm just looking for Y/n."
At the mention of your name, Rafe's expression darkened, a deep frown setting on his lips. His jaw clenched as he took a step forward, practically bristling with irritation. "Y/n's not here," he snapped, each word dripping with disdain. "Go find her somewhere else."
He waved a dismissive hand, already turning his back on Topper, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation. Topper furrowed his eyebrows, confusion and frustration evident on his face. "What do you mean, Y/n's not here? She's nowhere else on this goddamn island." Rafe looked at him in disbelief. "How would I know where your sister is, huh?"
Topper opened his mouth to retort but then shut it, the words dying on his lips. Rafe's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and hurt. "And one thing you should know, Top," Rafe's voice was calm, though his expression remained hard, "I got nothing against you, even though you totally punked me the other night."
Topper scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "Really? Were you too coked-out to remember slut-shaming my sister?" His hands flew to his head in a mocking gesture, mimicking a crazy person.
Rafe's expression darkened instantly at Topper's words. He lunged forward aggressively, forcing Topper to retreat a step. "Slut-shaming? I wasn't slut-shaming her," Rafe spat back, his voice growing louder and more defensive with each word. "I was provoked, all right?" His frustration was palpable as he took a few more menacing steps forward, his eyes blazing with anger.
Topper nervously wetted his lips, sensing the volatile energy in the air. "All right, man," he muttered, attempting to defuse the escalating tension as he backed toward his car.
Rafe's anger flared, his eyes burning with intensity. "You think I want her hanging around those fucking pogues? Huh?" he shouted, his voice dripping with rage and disdain. Topper stopped in his tracks, turning back to face him.
"Is that what you really think?" Rafe continued, his voice rising with every word. "Your sister is on a pedestal, and she keeps stooping low to hang out with those pogues!" His rant echoed in the tense silence, each word laced with venom. Topper stayed silent, his expression unreadable.
"Is that where she is? Is she with those pogues?" Topper finally questioned, his annoyance simmering just below the surface, the idea gnawing at him. "Where the hell else would she be? Huh?" Rafe walked toward Topper, his tone mocking. "Unless she found some other sucker. Yeah?" He spat, his anger evident. Topper shook his head, a realization dawning on him.
"I can just track her," Topper suddenly realized, pulling out his phone as he walked back to his car. "I completely forgot. I can track her on my phone."
Rafe's eyebrows furrowed as he watched Topper. "What? Are you spying on her?" he demanded, his voice rising with suspicion, his eyes narrowing.
"No, I'm not spying on her!" Topper snapped, exhaling sharply in frustration. "She's my sister, and I care about her. I just want to make sure she's okay after that stunt you pulled on her the other day."
Rafe slowly nodded, his lips pursed in thought. As Topper reached for his car door, his fingers brushing the handle, Rafe lunged forward and yanked the phone out of his hand.
"Jeez, give me my phone back," Topper argued, his voice tinged with irritation and a hint of desperation. He reached out, trying to grab the phone, but Rafe held it just out of his reach, a smirk playing on his lips.
"What? Calm down, all right? Just wanna make amends with her." Rafe chuckled, his tone mocking. He glanced at the screen, his expression unreadable, "What the hell is she doing on the cut?" He scoffed, rolling his tongue against his cheek before tossing the phone back at Topper and turning away.
"Rafe!" Topper called out, frustration and desperation mingling in his voice. Rafe didn't stop. "Go home, Top," he called back, his voice fading as he walked away.
~
"I can't believe he did that!" You cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks as Pope patted your back gently, and JJ handed you another tissue. "In front of all those people, too," you sniffled, feeling a mix of hurt and disbelief.
"What he did was pretty fucked up, but it showed his true colors, right?" Pope said, his tone hopeful, trying to offer some perspective as you shook your head. The two boys exchanged a look of concern. "No, no, that wasn't him that night," you said quietly, your fingers fidgeting with your ring. "You're right, it was the devilâ" JJ began, but you cut him off sharply.
"No, JJ. He was high out of his mind. I-I thought he only did it occasionally, but..." Your voice faltered, overwhelmed with disappointment and confusion. This time, Pope interjected gently. "Y/n, he's always been a coke addict. You just never noticed," Pope said softly, his words carrying the weight of a truth that was hard to accept.
âBut stillââ Youâre abruptly cut off by JJ, who shushes you sharply. âThatâs rudeââ you start again, only to be silenced once more as JJ places a firm finger on your lips. You stare at him, puzzled. âDid you guys hear that?â he whispers, his eyes darting around.
âI think someoneâs here.â Pope and JJ exchange a serious glance and immediately get to their feet. âStay here,â JJ instructs firmly. You sniffle and nod, whispering, ââkayâ
âWhere the fuck is she?â Rafeâs voice echoes, the door slamming shut behind him. âShe doesnât want to see you, man,â JJ interjects firmly as Rafe scoffs incredulously.âYeah, sheâshe tell you that, huh?â Rafeâs disbelief is palpable as he glares at the two friends.
âY/n! Come out! I know youâre in there!â Rafeâs voice grows louder and more desperate from outside. Inside, you sit up at the sound of his plea. âI told you, she doesnâtââ JJ starts, but Rafe cuts him off sharply.
âShut the fuck up, pogue,â Rafe groaned in frustration, his patience wearing thin as he glanced between JJ and Pope. âListen, I just need to talk to her, okay? Iâm not gonna do anything, sheâs my fucking girlfriend,â he insisted, his voice carrying a mix of exasperation and longing, pleading for understanding.
JJ and Pope exchange a glance, their expressions hesitant and protective. âNot a chanceââ JJ starts to say, but you cut in decisively, causing all three of them to turn and look at you. âItâs fine,â you call out, your voice steady yet laced with emotion. You meet Rafeâs softened gaze, swallowing hard before continuing. âYou want to talk? Iâm right here, Rafe. Talk.â
#drew starkey#rafe cameron#fanfiction#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x you#obx fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x smut#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron x kook!reader#outer banks x y/n#outer banks x reader#outer banks x you#outerbanks rafe#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe outer banks#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey fic#rafe cameron fic#outer banks au
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Loyaltyâs embrace
Pairing đ
Ş Benjicot "Davos" Blackwood x betrothed!reader
Tags đ
Ş jealous and protective Benjicot, small fight scene (no gore), fluff at the end, romance, reader uses she/her but no physical description
Notes: i have been writing for years without posting anything so i have a insane number of fics to post, enjoy lol
Wordcount đ
Ş 1.3k
likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!
The grand ballroom of Blackwood Manor was awash with warm candlelight and the soft hum of conversation. The air was filled with the scent of roses and the clinking of crystal glasses. Lady Y/N stood at the edge of the room, a vision in her resplendent gown. Her dress, a masterpiece of crimson silk and midnight velvet, flowed around her like a river of fire and shadow. The bodice, embroidered with intricate patterns of gold thread, clung to her form, highlighting her grace and strength. Across her chest and shoulders, the Blackwood sigil was proudly displayed, a symbol of her new allegiance and her own fierce spirit.
The fabric shimmered in the candlelight, every movement sending ripples of light and shadow cascading over her. The skirt, full and layered, swirled around her feet like a tempest, the deep red contrasting beautifully with the inky black. A delicate gold chain rested at her throat, drawing attention to the elegant curve of her neck.
She stood there as her betrothed, Benjicot Blackwood, engaged in conversation with several lords and ladies. She found herself alone for the moment, sipping a glass of champagne and watching the festivities from afar.
Despite the grandeur, there was a nervous flutter in her stomach. Being betrothed to Benjicot, the fierce and enigmatic heir of House Blackwood, was both an honor and a daunting reality. Their engagement was more strategic than romantic, a union meant to strengthen alliances and secure power. Still, she had hoped to find some genuine connection with him, something to hold onto amidst the political machinations.
"Lady Y/N, you look ravishing tonight," a voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see Lord Cedric, a notorious flirt and known for his less-than-honorable intentions, standing far too close for comfort.
"Thank you, Lord Cedric," she replied, forcing a polite smile and taking a small step back.
He didnât seem to noticeâor care. "It's a shame you're tied down to Blackwood. A beauty like you deserves better," he said, his eyes raking all over her in a way that made her skin crawl.
"I am perfectly content with my betrothal, Lord Cedric," she replied firmly, trying to edge away. But Cedric persisted, moving closer, his hand reaching to touch her arm.
"Come now, Y/N, you canât tell me youâve never wondered what it would be like to be with someone else," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear.
Before she could respond, a strong hand gripped Cedric's wrist, pulling him away from her. "I believe the lady has made herself clear," Benjicotâs voice was low and dangerous, his dark eyes blazing with anger.
Cedric paled but tried to maintain his bravado. "I meant no harm, Blackwood. Just a bit of fun," he stammered, taking a step back.
Benjicot stepped between Cedric and Y/N, his posture tense and protective. "Your idea of fun is clearly misguided," he said coldly. "If I ever see you bothering her again, I will not be so forgiving."
Cedric sneered, his fear giving way to indignation. "And what will you do, Blackwood, uh? Throw me out of your pretty little ball?"
A dangerous glint appeared in Benjicotâs eyes. "No, Cedric. Iâll do much worse."
Before Cedric could react, Benjicotâs fist connected with his jaw, sending him staggering backward. The ballroom fell silent, guests suddenly turning to witness the confrontation. Cedric, recovering from the initial shock, lunged at Benjicot with a roar, swinging wildly.
Benjicot dodged, his movements controlled and precise. He landed another punch to Cedric's midsection, doubling him over. "You donât know to quit, do you?" Benjicot muttered, grabbing Cedric by the collar and lifting him to his feet.
"Enough!" Cedric spat, struggling against Benjicotâs grip. "You think you can control everything? Even her?"
Benjicotâs eyes darkened further. "I donât need to control her, Cedric. I trust her. Something you clearly donât understand."
With that, Benjicot shoved Cedric away, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. Cedric, breathing heavily and bruised, glared up at him. "This isnât over, Blackwood."
"It is," Benjicot replied coldly. "And if you value your life, youâll stay away from her."
Guards approached then, at Benjicotâs silent command, hauling Cedric to his feet and escorting him out of the ballroom. The guests slowly resumed their conversations, the tension dissipating, but whispers of the altercation lingered.
Benjicot turned to Y/N, his expression softening as he reached out to her. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentle.
She nodded, but her composure faltered, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Thank you, Ben. I didnât know what to do..."
He stepped closer, his hand tenderly cupping her cheek. "You never have to face such things alone. Not while I'm here."
Y/N looked up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity. Instead, she found a depth of concern and protectiveness that took her by surprise. She had always seen him as distant, a warrior hardened by duty, but now she glimpsed the man beneath the armor.
"Why do you care?" she asked softly, her voice trembling.
Benjicot sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I know our betrothal was arranged, but that doesn't mean I don't care for your well-being. I've come to admire your strength and grace, Y/N. I want us to be more than just a political alliance."
Her heart skipped a beat at his words. She had longed for some indication that he felt more than obligation towards her. "I want that too, Ben," she whispered.
He smiled then, a rare, genuine smile that made her heart flutter. "Then let's make it so," he said, taking her hand in his. "Together."
As they stood there, hand in hand amidst the glittering ballroom, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her.
Benjicot glanced around the room, the tension in his shoulders easing. He looked back at Y/N, his eyes filled with a tender resolve. "May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice soft and inviting.
Y/N felt her breath catch. She nodded, unable to speak, and he led her to the center of the ballroom. The musicians, sensing the moment, began to play a slow, melodic waltz.
As they took their positions, Benjicot's arm encircled her waist, his hand warm and steady. Her hand rested on his shoulder, and he guided her with a grace that belied his warrior's demeanor. They began to move, their steps perfectly in sync, the world around them fading into a blur of light and sound.
The music swirled around them, a symphony of emotions. They glided across the floor, each step a silent conversation. Y/N felt as if they were floating, the dance a magical respite from the political intrigue and uncertainty that had shadowed their engagement.
Benjicot's eyes never left hers, their dark depths reflecting a myriad of emotions. In that moment, she felt a warmth spread through her chest, a burgeoning hope that perhaps their union could be more than just a strategic alliance.
The music swelled, and Benjicot spun her gracefully, her dress flaring out like a crimson and black flower. When they came back together, he held her a little closer, his gaze softening even further.
"I meant what I said," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want us to be more than a political alliance. I want to know you, Y/N. To truly understand you."
She smiled, her heart fluttering with a mixture of nerves and excitement. "And I want to know you, Ben."
As the final notes of the waltz echoed through the ballroom, they came to a gentle stop. The guests around them erupted into applause, but Y/N and Benjicot remained in their own world, their gazes locked.
"Thank you for the dance," Y/N said softly.
Benjicot brought her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. "The pleasure was mine," he replied.
In that moment, surrounded by the approving smiles of their peers, Y/N felt something shift. The alliance they had been forced into was beginning to transform into something real, something hopeful.
The future was uncertain, but for the first time, she felt truly seen and protected. And perhaps, just perhaps, they could find love in each otherâs arms.
#hotd x reader#house of the dragon#benjicot blackwood#benjicot blackwood x reader#game of thrones#asoiaf#fluff
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OMG PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING WITH JJ X FEM READER WHERE HE SURVIVED I NEED HAPPY ENDING PLEASE
Blue Crown â JJ Maybank
**Season 4 part 2 spoiler alert! read at your own risks â ď¸
Summary : In which the only way to help JJ is by getting that blue crown back from Chandler Groff.
JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
Warnings : usage of knife, heavy language, violence, blood, gun, english is not my first language
A/N : im afraid this is my coping mechanism, oh btw rafe's not in this story i just dont know what i would do with him
The midday sun blazed high, unbroken and blinding, but the sandstorm approached like a golden wave, shimmering in the light. The air grew hot and dry, buzzing with an electric anticipation as gusts began to whip up the ground. In moments, the bright world transformed, the desert around cloaked in a chaotic dance of light and sand.
Grains swirled furiously, each one catching the sunlight, creating a blinding haze of gold and white. Visibility shrank to a few feet, the sandstorm casting the world in a strange, glowing fog. It was harsh, relentless, every breath filled with the sting of earth and sun, an unstoppable force of nature bearing down with brilliant fury.
JJâs feet finally hit the dusty ground, the force of his landing sending a cloud of sand and dirt rising into the air. The narrow alleyway of Essaouira echoed with the sound of his boots hitting the cobblestones as he steadied himself. He clutched the wrapped blue crown in his hands, his knuckles white. âYou good?â I asked, my voice full of concern as I stepped closer to him, eyes scanning his face for any signs of strain.
âIâm good, Iâm good. Iâm better, actually. Iâm great!â JJ said with a grin that seemed to spread across his face like wildfire. He rushed over to me, pulling the scarf from the crown with quick, excited movements. âCause look!â he exclaimed, his voice full of energy.
He held up the crown, now revealed, but it was covered in dust, the rich blue stones clouded by the grime of their journey. Despite the dirt, the crownâs intricate design was unmistakable, its value evident even beneath the layers of dust. My breath caught in my throat as I saw it, this relic, this symbol of everything we had lost. âNo way, oh my god,â I whispered, my eyes wide with disbelief. My grin mirrored JJâs as we both stood there for a moment, taking in the weight of the moment.
JJâs loud cheer broke the silence, ringing out into the alleyway and bouncing off the high walls of the medina. âI... I did it!â he shouted, the sheer joy and relief in his voice undeniable.
I couldnât help but laugh, my heart swelling with pride. âDo you know what this means?â I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, as if I didnât want to jinx it.
âOh yeah, I do,â JJ said, his grin widening. His eyes shone with an intensity that made everything feel possible again. âWeâre getting it back. Weâre getting back our home.â
His words hung in the air between us, full of hope and the promise of a new beginning. I couldnât help but smile as I wrapped my arms around him tightly. âYou did it, baby. You did it!â I whispered in his ear, my heart hammering in my chest.
For a moment, everything felt right, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from our shoulders. But then, a cold chill ran down my spine, and I sensed something shift in the air. JJâs expression changed in an instant, his eyes narrowing as he looked behind me, his body tensing. Without a word, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back, hard. âWait, wait, hey! Go, go, go!â he shouted, his voice urgent, his grip tight on my wrist.
Before I could react, a sharp crack echoed through the air. The sound of a gunshot. The bullet whizzed past us, a split second away from tearing through the space where we had just been standing. My heart skipped a beat, and my body went into full panic mode.
âRun, run, run!â JJ yelled, pushing me forward, his hand at the small of my back, guiding me with the force of his desperation. The narrow streets of Essaouira stretched out ahead of us, winding and twisting like a maze, but we had no time to think, only to move. The sound of the gunshot still reverberated in my ears as we sprinted through the bustling medina, the faded buildings on either side almost closing in on us, the warm air heavy with the scent of saltwater from the distant ocean.
I could hear the sound of heavy boots behind us, pounding against the stones. The mercenaries were closing in. I could feel my lungs burning as I pushed my legs harder, adrenaline fueling every step.
âCâmon, Y/N, we gotta find the others!â JJ shouted from ahead, his voice sharp but full of focus. He had a plan. I could tell by the way he moved, the urgency in his every step. He was determined, but so was I. We had come this far, and we werenât about to lose everything now.
We reached a narrow staircase that led downward into the heart of the maze of Essaouiraâs old city. The steps were uneven, some worn smooth by centuries of footsteps, others jagged and crumbling. We had to be careful as we descended, not just from the chase, but from the danger of slipping on the worn stones. My pulse raced as we moved, the sound of our feet pounding against the stone seeming deafening in the otherwise still air.
JJ called out to me, âHey, Y/N! This way!â His voice came from behind, but I didnât look back. I had a feeling this was our only chance to lose the mercenaries. I kept my head down and pushed forward, following the winding path through the narrow streets and alleys.
Finally, we reached a small open space near the bottom of the staircase, a brief moment of cover amidst the tightly packed buildings. The view of the city below was dizzying, the sea stretched out in the distance, and the maze of whitewashed houses. But I couldnât afford to enjoy the view, or at least not yet. I turned to take a breath, my body trembling with exhaustion, âJ!â I called out and just as I did, I felt a sharp pressure against my neck. A strong arm wrapped around me from behind, dragging me backward with frightening speed.
I gasped, my breath choking in my throat, as I struggled against the iron grip around my neck. My heart hammered in fear. âShh!â The man behind me grunted, his grip tightening, cutting off any chance of air. My mind racedâhow had they gotten so close? Where was JJ?
âQuiet, quiet. Shutââ His voice was low, guttural, as he squeezed harder.
âJ!â I managed to croak out, each word a desperate gasp for air.
âY/N,â I heard JJâs voice, strained but strong, coming from the shadows. My heart leapt as I caught sight of him, standing firm, one arm shielding his face from the dust swirling in the air. âJJ!â I cried, relief flooding my chest, though fear still gripped me.
âLet her go,â JJ commanded, his voice cold but unwavering.
The man behind me stiffened, and I heard him growl, âStop right there.â And that was when the weight of the situation hit me. The voice was unmistakable, Chandler Groff. JJ's biological father.
I swallowed hard, every muscle in my body tense, ready to fight back, but I couldnât move. My body was locked in place, held captive by his suffocating grip. All I could do was let out weak grunts, trying to free myself from the hold, my hands instinctively pressing against his arm in a futile attempt to loosen it.
âDonât move,â Groff ordered, his voice venomous as he squeezed harder. My lungs burned, and I gasped for air. His grip was like iron, and I could feel my vision beginning to blur. I tapped at his arm in a silent plea, trying to signal that I couldnât breathe, but he didnât seem to care.
âYou know what I want,â Groff said, his voice laced with a twisted calm as he extended his hand toward JJ. âGive it to me.â
JJâs voice was barely above a whisper, but it was full of resolve. âJust let her go.â
Groff chuckled bitterly, his breath hot against my ear. âYou couldâve stuck with me, JJ,â he sneered, his words dripping with regret. âThink of what you couldâve had."
I felt the cold edge of a knife press against my cheek, and my breath caught in fear. âBut now,â Groff continued, his voice growing darker, âyouâre going to get nothing.â
I felt his grip tighten again as he hissed, âNothing.â
JJ seemed distant, as if lost in his own thoughts. His eyes, focused but distant, flickered between Groff and the crown in his hand. Then, in a quiet but firm voice, he spoke. âNo.â The word was resolute, cutting through the tension like a blade. He muttered to himself, barely audible, âI already have everything.â
I looked at him, confusion and worry swirling in my chest, but JJ didnât seem to notice. His gaze grew distant, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of his lips. âAnd I already have everything Iâve wanted,â he continued, his voice almost hollow, as if he was saying the words to convince himself. âThings that youâll never have,â he added, his smile somehow broken.
Suddenly, without warning, JJ held out the crown, the weight of it now settling between us like a silent challenge. His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. âYou want the crown?â
Groffâs eyes locked onto the crown, and for a moment, his expression softened, as if the object was the only thing that mattered. âSure, take it,â JJ said, his words cold, almost dismissive. âTake it. I donât want it,â he reassured, his eyes never leaving Groffâs.
âJust⌠let her go,â JJâs voice was low, but there was a sharpness to it now, a finality. Groffâs hand shot out greedily, reaching for the crown. âPerfect,â he said with a grin, his voice dripping with satisfaction. âHold it out.â
âTake it,â JJ repeated, his voice unwavering, no trace of doubt in it. His eyes were locked on Groffâs, his stance firm. âEasy,â JJ added, the words low, but there was something steady about them. He was ready for this. He was ready for this moment to be over.
I could barely breathe, my chest tight as I watched them, my heart racing. My body was still trembling from the fear, but I could sense the shift in JJâs demeanor. His resolve was unwavering now.
âHold it out. Come on,â Groff urged, his hand outstretched, fingers grasping for the prize.
In that instant, JJ pulled me into his embrace, and I gasped as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close to his chest. I buried my head in his neck, gasping for air, the pressure lifting from my lungs as I felt the safety of his hold. My hands instinctively wrapped around him, holding him tight, as if making sure this wasnât a dream.
âI got you,â JJ murmured, his voice thick with relief. I felt his heartbeat against my cheek, steady and strong. His arms tightened around me as if afraid to let go. âItâs okay,â he whispered again, the words soothing, though his voice still trembled with the remnants of fear.
I pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, and my heart swelled. âThank you,â I whispered, my voice barely audible, the words heavy with all the gratitude and emotion I couldnât fully express.
JJâs grip tightened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like everything would be okay.
âJJ.â Groffâs voice sliced through the tense silence like a blade, and JJ stiffened, his body reluctant but yielding. Slowly, he pulled away from me, his movements slow, almost pained, as if every inch away from me felt like a sacrifice. He turned to face Groff, his expression hardening, the relief of the moment slipping away as he steeled himself for whatever was coming.
Groff stood there, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, like a predator toying with its prey. âItâs a shame,â he said, his tone low and almost mournful, though there was no sincerity behind it. His voice carried the weight of a long-forgotten history, one that neither JJ nor I could escape from. âYou and me,â Groff continued, his words heavy with regret or perhaps mockery, there was no telling. I stood silently behind JJ, my hands still gripping his shirt, my pulse racing.
Suddenly, I heard the sickening squelch of flesh, and JJ jerked forward, his body lurching as if the world had been ripped out from beneath him. My breath caught in my throat, and I let out a shaky, disbelieving gasp. No, no, no, this canât be happening. My mind was scrambling to process what I was seeing, but everything seemed to slow, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
I heard JJâs groan, a deep, painful sound that tore through the air. My stomach dropped, my heart racing. The knife had sunk deeper. âNo,â I whispered, my voice trembling as my hands shook, my body frozen in place. And then, as if to mark the moment, I heard Groffâs voice, dark and cold as it slid through the air. âYou could have given me the rope,â he murmured, his voice heavy with cruel satisfaction. His tone was like poison, dripping with malice.
Before I could even react, Groff pulled the knife out with a sickening, deliberate slowness. The sound of it tearing through JJâs flesh was unbearable, sending a shudder through me. I watched as the dark blood poured from his side, staining his shirt, his skin. Groff didnât even seem to care, his eyes devoid of any emotion as he took one last, final look at his son.
And then, with an almost casual air, he turned away, walking off as if nothing had happened, as if the pain he caused was nothing more than a fleeting moment in his day.
I couldnât breathe. I couldnât think. My body moved without thinking, rushing forward, reaching for him just in time to catch him before he hit the ground. JJ crumpled in my arms, his body too heavy, too weak to stay upright. His hand instinctively clutched his wound, pressing desperately against the blood that poured from him. His face was pale, his eyes glazed, but still, he tried to hold himself together.
âJJ! No!â I cried out, my voice breaking. I lowered him gently to the ground, my hands shaking violently as I tried to arrange him, to make him comfortable, but nothing felt right. âNo, no, no,â I whispered, over and over, as if saying it could somehow make the horror stop.
JJâs breathing was shallow, ragged, every exhale more painful than the last. His lips parted, his voice barely a whisper, and the words that came from him shattered my heart into a million pieces. "I never told you my wish," he groaned, his hand trembling as he reached up to grab mine. His eyes searched mine with a kind of desperate pleading, but there was nothing I could do to stop the blood that poured from him, nothing I could do to undo the damage.
âJJâ,â I whispered, my voice cracking as tears began to well in my eyes. But his eyes were growing heavier. His body trembled, and I felt him sag against me, his hand slipping from mine. The breath he took was so weak, so labored. It was as if the world was slipping away from him, and I was powerless to stop it.
His lips parted again, and this time, the words that left him were barely a breath. "I already got it" The words were soft, too soft, as if he didnât have the strength to say them. But in that moment, they crushed me more than anything else could.
âNo, no, no, JJ.â I clung to him, my voice barely a whisper, but it trembled with all the fear and desperation I felt. I tried to hold him together, my arms shaking as I cradled his fragile body, willing him to stay with me. âYou canât leave, please donât leave me.â My words cracked under the weight of the pain.
His breath was ragged, barely audible as he managed to speak, his voice strained and faint. "I love you, Y/N." The words came out in a broken gasp, as though they were the last thing he could say.
âI love you too, JJ. So much," I whispered through my tears, my heart shattering with every second. "Please, please don't go. I can't lose you, not now, not like this. You canât leave me." My sobs wracked my body, the reality of the moment crashing down on me, but I refused to let go, even if I knew I was losing him.
And still, there was no response. His body became heavier in my arms, his head lolling to the side, and my chest tightened painfully as I realized how much I was losing. I pressed my hand to his wound, but I knew it was futile. His blood was everywhere, soaking through my fingers, and I could do nothing but hold him as he closed his eyes. I could feel the warmth of his fading life slipping through my grasp.
I felt the tears burning in my eyes as I whispered again, âJJâ
And all I could do was hold him, wishing for a miracle that would never come. The weight of his body in my arms felt like a thousand pounds, each breath he took growing more shallow, more labored. The world around me was nothing but a blur of pain, fear, and hopelessness. My hands were shaking, covered in his blood, and I could do nothing to stop it. "John B!" I screamed again, my voice cracking as I looked desperately around, hoping they would somehow hear me. "Pope!" I yelled, but the words felt hollow, lost in the chaos of my thoughts.
It was like time slowed as I held him, the seconds stretching painfully long. My heart was tearing apart with every breath he struggled to take. Suddenly, I heard footsteps, familiar voices calling out to me. I looked up through my blurry vision, and there they were.
John B and Sarah appeared first, their faces stricken with shock and confusion, but it was the moment they exchanged a glance that I knew they understood the gravity of what was happening. The look between them spoke volumes, a shared recognition that this was life or death.
Then, Pope, Kiara, and Cleo rushed in, their faces mirroring the same horror. Kiaraâs eyes filled with tears, but she bit her lip, fighting them back, while Cleoâs hand trembled as she kneeled down beside me. Everyone was in shock, but the urgency in the air made it clear: something had to be done, and fast.
I couldnât hold back any longer. My body shook with sobs, my chest tightening as I buried my face in JJâs hair, whispering over and over, âPlease... donât leave me.â
Suddenly, amidst the haze of grief, it hit me, the crown. The crown! I gasped, my eyes wide with realization, my voice trembling as I turned to John B. âJohn B, the crown!â I nearly choked on the words. âPlease get the crown back... It could save his life.â I reached for him desperately, my hands gripping his arm. âPlease, it could save him. Groff took it. He has the crown!â
John B and Sarah exchanged a quick look, their minds already working, already on the move. John B nodded grimly. âWeâre getting it back,â he said firmly, turning to Pope, who was already on his feet, determined.
Pope wiped the sweat from his brow, eyes steely with resolve. âWhere is he? Where did Groff go?â he asked, voice low and steady, though I could see the urgency in his eyes.
âSomewhere nearby,â I whispered, choking on my breath. âHe canât be far. You have to find him... the crown can grant a wish... Itâs our only chance to save him.â
They both nodded to each other and immediately sprinted off, their eyes scanning the surroundings, their minds racing to figure out where Groff would have gone.
Meanwhile, Kiara, Sarah and Cleo stayed with me, doing their best to comfort me. But nothing could bring me peace. I was too afraid, too consumed by the image of JJ growing weaker and weaker in my arms. Every second felt like an eternity.
John B and Pope moved through the winding streets of Essaouira with a precision born of desperation. They didnât need words to communicate anymore, their shared focus on getting the crown back drove them forward. They knew the stakes were higher than ever.
After what felt like hours, John B finally spotted Groffâs silhouette in the distance. He motioned for Pope to follow him, and they carefully closed the distance. Groff was standing alone in the alley, the crown glinting in his hands, tucked safely within his grasp. His back was turned, unaware of the approaching threat.
Without a word, John B and Pope charged forward. âGroff!â John B shouted, voice cutting through the air. Groff turned, his face twisted into an amused smirk, as if heâd been expecting this.
âRoutledge, you really are like your father, huh?â Groff sneered, his grip tightening around the crown. âYou had your chance, kid, but now itâs mine.â
John B didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, throwing a punch that Groff barely dodged, but it was enough to send him stumbling backward. Pope followed, using the momentum to land a hard blow to Groff's side. Groff grunted but recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing with fury.
"Youâll never win, you know that?" Groff hissed, drawing a knife from his belt, the blade flashing in the dim light. "Iâve always been one step ahead of you."
John B and Pope exchanged a quick glance, knowing they had to act fast. John B charged again, dodging Groffâs swipe and knocking the knife from his hand. They were both quick, relentless, using every ounce of energy to fight him off.
Groff snarled in frustration as he tried to backpedal, but Pope tackled him from behind, sending them both tumbling to the ground. In the struggle, the crown fell from Groffâs grip, bouncing across the stone street. Without thinking, John B scrambled for it, grabbing the crown and standing up with it in his hand.
âI told you,â John B said breathlessly, looking down at Groff, âweâre gonna take back what's ours.â
Groff, seething with rage, scrambled to his feet, but he knew the battle was lost. He glared at John B and Pope with a venomous look, but he didnât make another move. âThis isnât over,â he spat, before turning and disappearing into the shadows, leaving them standing victorious, but at a great cost.
John B and Pope rushed back to where I was, their eyes scanning the crowd. When they saw me still holding JJ, they didnât need to ask. They knew. John B thrust the crown into my hands, his face filled with determination.
âWe got it,â he said, panting from the exertion.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the crown, the only thing that could save him. I placed it gently onto JJâs chest, my hands trembling. They all watched carefully as I closed my eyes, whispering a prayer to the universe. "Please, please let this work. I canât lose you, JJ.â
And just like that, I felt a shift, a flicker of hope, a warm light growing from within the crown. The energy seemed to pulse, as if it was answering the wish I had silently made.
The moment the crown touched JJâs chest, a strange warmth radiated from it, spreading through his body. I held my breath, my hands still trembling as I hovered over him, watching, praying for a sign. At first, nothing happened, just the faint rise and fall of his chest, the quiet whisper of his breaths filling the silence around us. But then, a soft glow began to emanate from the crown. It wasnât bright or blinding, but it was enough to make the air feel charged, alive.
A shaky breath escaped my lips as I watched, my heart racing in my chest. I whispered again, my voice barely audible. "Please, JJ."
Suddenly, a jolt of warmth shot through my hands, and I felt the familiar weight of his body beneath me shift. His eyelids fluttered, then slowly opened, a faint groan escaping his lips.
"Y/N..." His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, but it was there. He was still here. I felt a wave of relief crash over me, overwhelming and dizzying. His eyes met mine, and I saw the faintest hint of recognition.
"J" I gasped, my voice cracking as I leaned down, pressing my forehead to his. I couldn't stop the tears that drop from my eyes "Oh my god, I thought I lost you,"
He blinked a few times, as if trying to make sense of the world around him. His hand trembled as it reached up to touch my face, his fingers brushing against my skin as though confirming that I was real. His voice was still weak, but there was a clarity in his eyes now, a spark of life that hadn't been there moments before. "You're not getting rid of me that easy."
I let out a chuckle as tears streamed down my face, and I couldnât stop them. "J.." I couldnât finish the sentence, my throat too tight, my emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
JJ tried to sit up, but the movement caused him to wince, his hand pressing against his side where the wound still lingered. I gently placed my hand on his chest, stopping him. "Don't" I said sternly.
He gave me a small, weak smile, though it didnât quite reach his eyes. "Iâm not going anywhere, Y/N. I promise."
I couldnât help the laugh that escaped me, a sound of pure relief. I leaned down again, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "You can't kill a pogue" He mumbled as he looked around at his friends, his voice thick with emotion.
JJ reached up, his hand cupping the back of my head, his thumb gently brushing against my hair.
I closed my eyes, holding him close, savoring the warmth of his body against mine. The crown still rested on his chest, glowing faintly, as though it had worked its magic. I didnât know how, or why, or what kind of power it had, but in that moment, I didnât care. All that mattered was that JJ was alive. He was here. And he wasnât going anywhere.
I looked around at all of them, my heart swelling with gratitude for the people who had fought so hard to get him back. We had all been through so much, but in that moment, we were together. And no matter what came next, we had each other.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.
likes and reblogs are appreciated đ
#outer banks#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank obx#jj maybank#jj maybank imagine#rafe cameron#drew starkey#netflix#rafe cameron imagine#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fic#jj maybank rp#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank angst#jj maybank fluff#outerbanks season 4
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Daddyâs Girl.
Part 3 to this AU
Pairing: Older!Rafe Cameron x Stepdaughter!Reader
TW: Stepcest, DD/LG themes, eventual smut, unwanted manhandling, gaslighting, manipulation, immoral actions⌠more to be added
A/N: Long awaited⌠yet more to come hehe :D
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Rafe is deeply in love. He would like to say itâs infatuation, or at least a little schoolboy crush. Yet, he knows itâs pure love. Heâs never been a soft man, never felt so mushy inside and it almost feels emasculating. But when he looks into those pretty eyes full of youth and sparkle all he can feel is his heart ready to tear out of his chest and lay right in the palm of her delicate hand. She might be almost 20 years his junior, and worst of all his stepdaughter. It doesnât matter to him.. not anymore. Heâs done way worse in his life and capturing her in his clutches wouldnât be the worst heâs done. At least he hopes not.
Rafe loves his wife⌠well it feels like he loved her. Heâs sure he did, and heâs sure deep in his heart that fondness still lies there. Now though, his little girl is taking up way more space and expanding it to the point that he feels his chest constantly hurts with the adoration heâs developed for her. His little girl who he already knows he would do absolutely anything for. Even if it meant going against his wife.
Tensions been building ever since she arrived to Kildare and especially to their home. Not just between himself and her but between her and her mother. His wife who was initially ecstatic to bond with her daughter now filling with resentment and discouragement. Y/n is stubborn âthat he learned. Sweet as sugar to him but to her mother is a different story. While she clings to him and listens to every word he says, the wall sheâs built up for her mom and the distaste sheâs showing her is deeply affecting his wife. Who cries to him about it every night and looks at him with displeasure in her gaze whenever her daughter goes against her but listens intently to him.
Y/n has taken to calling him daddy. Rafe loves it, it makes his chest fill with warmth and his stomach flutter rapidly. Especially with the way it drips from her lips with sultriness. His wife hates it. Although itâs meant to be paternal the way y/n gazes at him and the cadence sheâs speaks it with is anything but innocent. Whenever he ask her to do something she immediately drawls a âyes daddy,â or âof course daddy.â To which he rewards her with a pinch of her cheek or the tip of her nose. While she smirks at her mother whose face always blazes red with distaste and envy at the affection theyâve developed between each other.
Donât even get Rafe started on the way she whines at him with the same nickname. Y/n quickly grew accustomed to the wealthy life, regularly going on shopping sprees with Rafeâs card or whining at him that she wants something. He never denies her. Whatever she wants she gets. And She wants everything. Designer bags, shoes, clothing. All brand name. Opulent diamonds and white gold. Expensive makeup and skincare. Spa treatments, manicures, pedicures and lash fills. Sheâs definitely inherited her motherâs taste for the high-life. A girl like her deserves it all and Rafe is more than willing to provide her with all of it. Loving when she squeals with excitement and hugs him tightly with a sloppy, wet kiss on his cheek that leaves behind glittery gloss. âOh thank you, daddy! I love it, love you!â She giggles and lets him wrap his arm around her back as he holds her pressed into him. Smirking down at her with a, âanything for you, princess. Daddy loves you more.â Itâs borderline romantic and crosses the boundaries of platonic. His wife turns a blind eye each time. It makes her stomach sick, it feels borderline incestuous. Yet, she forces herself to find it endearing, this is what she asked for.
While y/n adores her stepfather, sheâs got a nasty little attitude with her mom. Sneering at and snubbing her constantly. Calling her by her first name and speaking her to with a tone in her voice that is full of pure repugnance. Even snapping at her with a bratty attitude that Rafe wants to spank out of her and he shuts down with one harsh âHey! What did I teach you about respect?â To which she whines and pouts her plumpy lips and batting her wispy lashes at him, her gaze always cutting into her mother while she stomps her way upstairs to her room. Her designer heels clacking on the tile floor and stairs until they hear her bedroom door slam shut.
His wife feels exasperated at her daughterâs attitude but Rafe doesnât really blame his stepdaughter. His wife threw her to the side with a stranger, albeit her father but still. She barely knew him, barely knew his morality or how heâd treat a baby. All so she can continue living her life of a socialite and in luxury while her daughter lived a vastly different one. Then deciding 19 years later she wants to be a mom and expecting y/n just to play house so easily? Now that his wife wants to be a mom and not when his stepdaughter needed one. Itâs selfish, and he doesnât blame his girlâs disdain. In fact him and his wife have been getting into more and more heated arguments over the way he defends his baby girl and sides with her every moment he can. In fact, heâs even taken to telling his wife she better not dare scold his darling girl, only he can reprimand her and only she listens to him.
Mrs. Cameron is beginning to notice the weird dynamic between her husband and estranged daughter. At first she was thrilled that he was so willing to take her in and she loved how kind he was to her when she first arrived. Now though⌠itâs got a feeling settling in her gut that makes her shudder. The way he watches her daughter with eyes full of adoration, fondness and even lust she swears at times. The way his physical affection toward her is increasing, the excessive touching and increased shopping sprees that has left her daughterâs room filled with excessive luxury not even he provides for her anymore.
Donât get her started on her daughter. At first she was thrilled to have y/n here, sheâll take accountability for her lack of maternal instinct and basically abandoning her child. She was young, afraid, pressured and not ready for the commitment. Her selfishness overtook her maternal desires. Now that sheâs older though, sheâs ready to be a mom. Sheâs ready to know her baby girl. It hurts her the way her daughterâs so reluctant and headstrong with her. Speaking to her with a bite of disdain in her tone and flinching away from her touch. She can see the sneer of revulsion her daughter gives her from the corner of her eye when sheâs not looking⌠but thatâs not what worries her.
Itâs the way her daughter looks at her husband like heâs hung the moon and stars in the night sky. The way she hangs into every word he says, and submits to his will with ease. Giggling at his jokes like a schoolgirl with a crush and whining to him every moment she gets. The way she clings onto him and how she wraps her arms around his neck and presses her chest to him with a long drawn kiss on his cheek every time he comes home. The way she gets jealous and clingy anytime his attention is away from her and onto his wife. The horrid way she calls him daddy, itâs almost sexual in nature. Moaned out and enticing. She swears itâs less paternal and almost couple-like. And the clothingâŚ
Mrs. Cameron knew her daughterâs style was skimpy if the way she picked her up from the airport and the unpacking of small pieces of cloth were anything to go by. Although now she trapezes around the house in almost nothing. Her nipples always peaking through and plump tits on display. Pretty legs and pert cheeks as well, her shorts and skirts always showing the bottom of her butt. Heels and wedges always clacking around their tile floors. Even the way she does her makeup, with her pretty lips always so enticing and suggestive while her eyes scream âfuck me.â All the time. The way her daughter flirts and has this aura of sensualness that exudes out of her. The way men, boys and even some women ogle her every time they go out. Leering at her with lust, want and yearning in their gazes. An influx of attention has come her way and sheâs now the crowned âit girlâ and princess of Kildare. And Rafe was king. Y/n revels in the attention, she even plays into itâŚ
Mrs. Cameron wouldnât have thought this about her daughter had it not been pointed out to her at the country club by her group. âYour daughter⌠sheâs beautiful. Absolutely stunning donât get me wrong but the way she dresses⌠itâs provocative. And the way she acts, flirts especially. My boy hasnât stopped bugging me to set him up. You let her dress and act like that around your husband?â or âYour girl has a look on her that any man would absolutely fall into with ease. I know sheâs your daughter, honey. But Rafe is only a man and sheâs not his blood.â To which she brushed off, turning to eye her daughter whoâs flirting with the country club goers her age and then to Rafe whoâs across the room eyeing them down with fire burning in his irisâs. Jaw with a grit and hand tightened around his cup. It makes her stomach drop with uneaseâŚ
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âMy god! Stop with this shit, alright?! I buy her the clothes and I let her wear them. It makes her happy and itâs coming out my pocket!â Rafe bites at her, his eyes widened with defense at his wifeâs nagging to him to tell her daughter to tone down her style and be more conservative. His finger pointed at her as they have yet another tiff over y/n. âSheâs young! Of course her style isnât as mature. You said you wanted her happy, right?â He says harshly, closing in on her when she doesnât respond, âRight?!â Rafe is annoyed, heâs tired of having this talk. If his little girl wants to dress that way heâs sure as hell going to let her because the satisfaction he gains from seeing her happy is all that matters.
âRafe! You know itâs not right! I-I tried to get past it, tried to accept thatâs how she is. I know that Los Angeles is a fashion capital and thereâs different customs with how big the city is! And those are the styles and maybe thatâs the way they act there, but sheâs not in Los Angeles anymore! Sheâs here, with us! Surrounded by our family and friends who are coming to me and telling me that sheâs dressing and acting way too provocative! Itâs bad for our image and itâs disrespectful! Sheâs a Cameron now and sheâs got to start acting like it!â His wife bites back, tears in her eyes at her husbands tone with her. Heâs getting meaner by the day.
âYou really think I give a shit?! You think I care what people think of us?! No! What I say goes and if it pleases her to be who she is then it pleases me! That girl has been through too much! She deserves a little happiness in her life and Iâll be damned if you stop me from giving it to her! Iâm the man of this house,â Rafe points at himself. Index finger stabbing into his chest as he domineers his wife. âMe! So quit it with bugging me about this shit! I donât want to hear anymore of this fucking topic. End of convo!â He snarls, brushing past her with a shoulder check that leaves her speechless. Her throat gritty with hurt as she whimpers out a, âwhatâs going on with you? With us! Why are you being so mean to me?â His wife bites out with a cry. Her shoulders slouched into defeat as she stares into the back of his head.
Rafe turns his head to look at her before his snarl sharpens, âyou donât get to be mother of the year when you abandoned her to begin with. Now Iâm taking care of her. She deserves to be loved.â With that he slams open the door and there stands y/n. Her lips in a frown as her eyes water with tears. Whimpers falling from her lips, sheâd heard yelling and was too curious. Standing behind the double doors to listen in on them. Displeased that her mom is complaining about her once more, when all sheâs doing is living and being.
âNo, no, no. Ssh câmere, princess.â Rafeâs voice instantly softens once he sees her state of being. His once hard and defensive demeanor dropping into one of care and affectionate. Reserved for the girl whoâs stealing his heart and soul. His arms wrapping around her almost immediately as he brings her face into his neck and holds her head in his hand while the other wraps around her to pull her into him. Resting a cheek on the top of head and running his hand through her hair as she wraps her arms around his back and whines into him. Her tears wetting his skin, and she whimpers. âDonât like when you yell daddy, âspecially not about me.â She cries, holding onto him like her lifeline. He basically is. Sheâll be damned if her mom gets in the way.
âNo, my little girl,â he coos to her with pure softness in his voice. âDaddyâs just protecting you. Like he always will. Donât cry, mâgonna take you out for a nice dinner, kay? Wherever or whatever you want to eat.â He kisses the top of her head and shakes her side to side, her manicured nails gripping his button up as her whines turn into soft sniffles. Both of them in their own bubble as his wife watches with shock and terror.
Itâs too intimate, way too intimate. Especially for a father and daughter, and the ache in her chest feels like a dagger while the black hole of doubt in her gut expands. Watching as Rafe pulls her face out of his neck and pinches her chin to make her look at him. Her daughterâs beautiful eyes sparkling with love as she looks up at her stepfather. His cobalt ones sparkling with the same as he stares down at his stepdaughter. His chest filled with warmth and the need to please and protect her. Thumb stroking her pretty chin as he coos at her and gives her a comforting smile which she easily returns.
âGo fix yourself up and wear something pretty. Daddyâs gonna take care of it okay? Donât worry.â He speaks to her so endearingly, pulling her by the grip he has on her face and pressing a long-drawn kiss to her forehead as both their eyes flutter closed. Soft sighs falling from from both of them as y/nâs grip on his dress shirt softens. Itâs too intimate, it makes his wife look away with discomfort as she clears her throat harshly. Refusing to watch the moment any longer than she needed to.
Rafe once again turns his head to look at her, his brows furrowed and face full of disappointment. Before he looks back at his stepdaughter once more and cups her cheek, pressing a couple more soft kisses into her forehead as he tells her, âgo on. Take your time.â He then spins her around and urges her with a soft pat on her back to which y/n turns her head to look back at him. A pleased smile on her plump lips as she tells him a soft, ââkay daddy.â Eyes turning to her mother while Rafe also turns to look at his wife once more, and itâs the look that changes in her eye that leaves her mother taken aback.
While y/n looked at Rafe with love, respect and adoration. The moment her eyes fall onto her mother they fill with something else. She looks at her with something malicious. Viscousness running through her gaze as she stares her mother down, a small smirk forming on her lips that reads, âI win.â Her eyes almost territorial, and as if sheâs shooting daggers at her mother. Itâs almost nefarious, running her eyes down her motherâs entire body with a look of scorn before looking into her eyes once more and deepening her smirk as she turns her head quickly, her hair snapping around with sass as she struts away with her sway of confidence in her hips. Heels clacking away from them and up the stairs.
Rafe having stared down his wife the whole time, missing the moment between her and her daughter. Both their gazes of scrutiny feeling like like theyâre stabbing her but itâs the way her daughter looked at her. That leaves her taken fully aback to the point that she feels she needs to sit down or have a drink. It was almost hateful. Rafeâs eyes hold onto her as he stalks toward her once more. Watching as her eyes hold onto the ground in a daze, in repeated thought over the way y/n stared her down. Sitting on the couch in his office with pure stupefaction running through her body.
He stomps forward and stands in front of her, roughly grabbing her by the face as her forces her to look up at him. Staring down his nose at her as harsh breathes leave his nostrils, mouth in a line of dissatisfaction. Her teary, stupefied eyes starting up into his as his grip tightens on her face almost painfully. âIâm going to say this once, and only once.â He drawls out harshly, with a growl. His lip back in a sneer, âyou make her cry again⌠I swear to god. Iâm going to make you regret it. Am I understood?â She doesnât react, quite frankly she doesnât know how too. Itâs all too overwhelming, the influx of thoughts bouncing around in her mind and the moment she witnessed leaving her speechless.
Rafeâs lack of patience catching up with him as he shakes her head and bites out even more gruffly, âI said. Do you. Understand?â His voice is full of scorn and underlying anger. Glaring daggers into her that go right into her beating heart as she whimpers and nods, letting out a soft âI understand, Rafe.â Her voice full of dejection and wavering with an oncoming slot of tears. He scoffs as tears run down her cheeks, releasing her by pushing her head away harshly, and giving her a small smile of condescension. Stepping back, while continuing to stare her down.
âClean yourself up. Iâm going to shower and get ready. So, donât bother me.â He commands, turning on his heel with that as stomping out or his office, but not before shouting over his shoulder. âAnd donât wait up for us! Or bother us! Weâll be home when we damn well please.â His voice further away as he stomped his way upstairs.
Mrs. Cameronâs tears are full blown now, covering her mouth and crying into it as she caves in on herself. Her heart thumping rapidly in her chest as she struggles to come to terms with the situation that just played it out. At first she was happy about the love Rafe showed for her daughter, yet now sheâs slowly coming to terms with the fact that the love he has for y/n is slowly replacing the love he has for her. A home she once deemed a haven, ready to build a life with her husband. Now feeling anomalous and eerie. Everyday she feels more like a stranger while her husband and daughter feel more like theyâre encasing themselves in their own world. Alone together.
She feels that sheâs being replaced⌠by her own daughter.
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A/N: I live for drama! Hehe, had to write reader equally as nasty as Rafe can be. I am sorry for the long wait! Lifeâs a bitch! Hope you all enjoy and let me know your thoughts in the comments!
Taglist: @xcinnamonmalfoyx @iknowdatsrightbih @inthelibrarybtw @pretty-pink-princess @enjoymyloves @stoned-writer @rafesfuckdoll @unrealmirrorball @khaibdl @idksmtms @queenvane64 @xoxohoneymoongirl @vogueprincess @loonysbarn @heartsforrafecam @cl4uus @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlelamy
If iâm missing anyone please let me know >.<
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