#let me know i'd love to keep up with them

[writing-flower]

“ Between life and death, death is tempting ”

First act: “From the roots”

Prologue: “Happy fifteenth birthday! (Again?)”

WARNING: Mention of blood and death.

My memory had never been the best, it was good, but not exceptional. Nothing out of this world.

I wasn't as smart as Damian or Tim, I wasn't as strong as Jason or Dick, nor was I as sharp as Bruce Wayne.

I wasn't exceptional, but I was good, but not good enough for them. For him.

God, I was so focused on getting his attention, playing sports, try to pass every subject with the highest grade, join any club like debate or math.

Anything, but all that never leads to anything.

Well, almost nothing, everything I did only caused Damian to see me as a desperate for attention, which, he wasn't wrong.

But still, it didn't make it hurt any less, every insult, malicious insinuation even the occasional threat flying through the air, each one was the result of three years of trying to get someone to look at me.

Sometimes that attention only appeared with Dick, on the few times that he came to visit and came across a scene of me with Damian, He immediately stopped him.

Forcing him to apologize, spoiler, he never apologized.

The first time it happened I thought that my attempts had finally yielded good results, but no, I dare say this was worse.

As if he gave me hope and then suddenly he snatches it away without any fanfare.

Oh wait, that's literally what happened.

And about the others, I didn't even have the chance to talk to them, simply because I was already tired and also because if Damian continued he would have more reasons to screw me.

And let's face it, nobody wants to feed the wolf because you know it bites.

In this case, the bird.

It didn't help that almost the entire family was going on patrol, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in being part of that, but then I remember Jason...I immediately got that idea out of my mind.

Mm, but if I stop to think, or rather, remember, another thing that I learned in my attempts to get my family's attention, I fell in love with dance.

It was the only class that I didn't drop like the others, I genuinely loved it.

Once in her class, the teacher made us all dance with large, long, and thin fabrics. She made us dance what we wanted, in her words: “Dance as if you were free”.

My companions danced with joy, I just stayed silent for a few moments watching them without knowing how to start.

But then I sighed to close my eyes, letting my body move as it wanted.

“Dance as if you were free” I thought, I started to imagine the music in my head. It was nice, I love it.

I went from knowing what the hell to do to starting to laugh with my classmates, I turned around and then curtsied, feeling how almost all the fabric covered my body.

I open my eyes and see my entire audience applauding, not just me, but also the rest of the dancers.

As soon as I turned eighteen I followed my teacher's advice. I didn't do it before because I was a minor, I needed my tutor's permission and blah blah blah...

Contact with my family at this point was zero, except for the new member, Duke, a sweet and kind boy.

Just looking at him made prayers come to mind for Bruce.

“If you let this kid end up like Jason, I’ll take care of throwing the Joker at you myself, you unhappy idiot.” I was thinking but also listening as Duke energetically told me what his first patrol had been like.

I used to have a certain respect for Bruce, I mean, he's Batman and he does everything in his power to make sure Gotham isn't in such a shitty place.

But then I remember that he keeps adopting children as if they were dogs to give them "A better life" by turning them into human weapons.

Sooooo, yeah, I wish that every day he wakes up with a backache and a headache.

"[Name]"

"Yes dear?" Through the mirror I watched Duke looking at me hopefully as I put on my makeup for the upcoming performance in an hour.

Oh no, I already know what he's going to ask.

"Why do you never come to the mansion?" God, I swear he does that look on purpose, brat.

I sigh as I turn around to look at him.

"You already know my answer, I have no reason to do it and I don't want to either." I said as I turned back to the mirror to continue.

"Yes! I know, but why exactly don't you want to?"

A silence reigned in the room, putting on my makeup but at the same time thinking about what to answer him.

As much as I resent the Waynes, they didn't do anything to Duke, until now, they treat him as he deserves and the last thing I want is to plant that seed of hatred towards them in Duke.

Because I know him, as soon as I tell him what my childhood was like in that mansion and those responsible, the first thing he will do is complain.

And at this point in my life I don't want any unnecessary drama with them.

I lowered the lipstick and looked at him.

"I never liked being in that mansion, since I was little I was always afraid of those giant, dark hallways, and I still am."

Duke stared at me in bewilderment. "Is that the only reason you don't want to come to the mansion?"

I nodded. "It sounds stupid, I know, but every time I walk down those halls it brings back bad memories."

That wasn't a lie.

Duke was silent for a few moments before coming up to me and hugging me.

"Aww, honey you are such a sweetheart sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Yeah, because you can be a brat sometimes too." I laughed as I ruffled Duke's hair until it was disheveled.

"A white lie won't hurt anyone." I thought while Duke laughed and tried to pull my hand out of his hair.

Without realizing it, it was already time to start. I said goodbye to Duke, telling him to go back to the mansion, but he insisted on staying.

Something I allowed, GOD, I should have begged him not to do it.

Because from one moment to the next while I was dancing, all the lights went out and when they came back on I felt like blood was flooding my mouth, like everyone was screaming in fear.

What happened? Why am I bleeding?

Duke, he was next to me trying to keep me awake, to not close my eyes.

It got to the point where I couldn't hear anything he was saying, it was complicated while I felt like a part of my body was bleeding non-stop.

I hate to see him cry, please look away... leave me here.

Please...

I don't want the last thing I see to be you crying...

Please...

She opened her eyes calmly and confusedly, all she could hear was the ringing in her ears. She thought she was in a hospital because of the light.

But when her vision stopped blurring, she realized that the light was not from a hospital spotlight, but from the skylight in the wooden ceiling.

"Wait...Skylight?" She muttered, feeling her voice raspy and her throat sore.

The bed wasn't that soft, it was really hard and uncomfortable but still [Name] didn't want to get up, after almost dying...

[Name] sat up in bed right away.

"I ALMOST DIE!" She literally jumped out of bed and ran to the closet to get her clothes.

She needed to see how Duke was doing, his desperate face and the way he held back the urge to cry and couldn't, broke her heart.

But it was when she pulled out a t-shirt that she realized.

"This isn't my size..." Confused, [Name] walked over to the mirror.

If Duke broke her heart, now she's literally having a heart attack.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" [Name] could swear that any living thing that was near her would have run away in less time than it takes a rooster to crow.

She touched her face carefully, as if it would disappear or break if she touched it hard, this is so weird...a woman in her late twenties trapped in her fifteen year old self, god, what a hell.

[Name] She stepped back without taking her eyes off the mirror while she sat back down on her bed.

On the other side of the door, she heard someone knocking on it two or three times. Accompanied by a soft but direct voice calling her name.

"Miss [Name]"

[Name] immediately turned around to stare at the door, for a few short moments no one said anything, there was only silence.

"Are you okay? You didn't come down to breakfast. That's not something usual for you." Alfred said once he got no response from her.

"Yeah, I'm fine Alfred...I just stayed up late last night that's all..." She didn't know what to say, obviously it wasn't okay, but she didn't want any more problems in her head, she just wanted to focus on the main problem.

She literally just got younger, which would be a good thing if it weren't for the fact that she also came back to this damn mansion.

"Okay, miss, I'll be waiting for you with your breakfast, you need to eat something before you start the day." [Name] was about to reply until Alfred stepped in. "Also, Happy Birthday Miss."

She didn't say anything, she didn't want to.

Alfred walked away from the door, [Name] could hear his footsteps moving away through the hallways and down the stairs.

"Was it always this quiet?" She muttered in her mind as she turned her gaze back to the mirror.

She thought about her life before coming back here, it wasn't good, she didn't earn much from dancing, but... it was her life, a life that took her time to perfect.

And now, I go back to the beginning? Shit, no.

"Alive or dead, I don't care, either way I'm getting out of here..." She said with some frustration and tiredness. "Happy birthday to me...that's new."

With nothing left to lose, she gets back out of bed to find some clothes to change into.

It was her birthday and she had to look good.

And hopefully, it would be the last birthday she would spend in this mansion.

NOTES: Hi, I hope everything is okay, even if it's better than me, I had finished the 'prologue' a while ago but I was feeling a bit unsure that something felt out of place or "weird".

I repeat and reiterate, I can understand English but in terms of speaking/writing it I am still learning. Until I feel completely confident for now I will continue using the translator (my savior).

But if there are any errors (probably some, I hope not many) let me know, I want everyone to be able to read comfortably and as long as I can I will make it happen.

Anyway, I hope you like it, I love you! Muak muak💋💋

TAGS:

@crazycaoticsimp @closetreader1864

[ayukas]

12:34AM

hi... it's, um, haechan. i, uh... i couldn't sleep. i've been trying, but it's like the second i close my eyes, everything comes back. i know you won't pick up, won't even listen to this, but i just need to get everything off my chest. to help me forget, you know?

your scent... it's still all over my apartment. my sheets, my couch... it's everywhere. even after i washed everything, fuck, even deep-cleaned my entire apartment, i can still smell it. smell you. like it's burned into the walls or something. i hate it, but... at the same time, i kinda don't want it to go away. after all, it's the only part of you i have left.

01:17AM

do you remember how you used to gently trace over my moles? leaving a kiss on each and every one of them? you'd say it was your way of showing me how you loved every part of me. that even the smallest parts of me mattered. you told me my moles were attractive. you told me i was attractive.

so how could you spit it in my face and tell me you didn't find me attractive anymore? was it true? or were you just... trying to hurt me? because it fucking worked. i can't stop thinking about it. the scowl on your face when you told me i wasn't good enough for you.

02:03AM

i... i know i shouldn't keep calling. you're probably asleep, since my number isn't blocked yet. i just can't stop thinking about you. about... about us. about all the nights you'd show up here after work, completely drained. you wouldn't say much, just lie next to me, and i'd hold you until you fell asleep.

i thought... i thought that was love. i thought we had something real. but maybe it wasn't. maybe you were just holding on because you needed someone, and i just happened to be there.

03:22AM

i miss you. so... so much. i miss the way you'd laugh at my dumb jokes or the way you'd pull me in for a hug, even when you were pissed off at me. i miss your warmth. i miss... the way you used to look at me, like i was everything to you.

but maybe that was just all in my head. because if you really felt that way, if you really cared, you wouldn't have left.

04:11AM

...hi. this is the last one, i promise. i can just imagine the disgust on your face when you check your phone in the morning. 'm sorry. i know you want me to just go away and forget everything. but i can't. i can't just forget you. i can't.

i loved you. god, i loved you so fucking much. i loved every part of you, even the parts that hurt me. and i tried so hard to be someone you could love back.

but i guess it wasn't enough. i wasn't enough.

i hope you'll be happy. i really do. i won't reach out anymore, so you don't have to worry about that. i just... i needed to let everything out.

thank you for everything, my love. maybe in another life, when we're not so broken, you'll still want me. maybe that version of me will be enough. i'll hold onto that thought... even if it's just in the scent of your cologne.

notes this was inspired by my one and only @ddolbyong !!!!!! i love u sooo so much, thank u 4 encouraging me to write this and letting me use ur works as inspo!!!!!! #mixu4ever (ᵒ̴̶̷᷄﹏ᵒ̴̶̷᷅) this was also of course, inspired by cologne by beabadoobee. MY GOATBADOOBEE!!!!!! any kind of interaction is greatly appreciated, thank u for reading! (..◜ᴗ◝..)

[bitchface24-7]

HIS CONCUBINE(S) - VIKTOR X READER + JAYCE

synopsis: you followed Viktor to Zaun as he heals the ill and hurt from their pain. You’re his best friend, one of his partners, and now you’re a concubine. You're also Viktor’s right hand, the second leader of the commune. You couldn’t ask for a better life.

warnings: suggestiveness, getting walked in on, persuasion (damn, there goes this timeline), Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/f or m/m (+ Jayce 😏)

p.s. again, this came up in conversation with @darlingmel (they changed their user) our convos are wild. If anyone wants to chat and fan girl/boy about arcane and our lovelies, I'm all for it :)

This wasn't expected. Everything that occurred before this very moment wasn't expected. But it’s nothing you'll ever complain about.

You two have built a commune, a safe haven for the people of Zaun. As Viktor heals them of all illness, aches, and pains. He's all powerful, he's kind, he's inspiring.

He's yours.

When he left the lab you secretly followed him. He caught you, obviously and quietly asked, “Why’d you come with me?”

You easily replied, “Because you need me.”

And he didn't refuse. He didn't deny it, and with that, you two made a safe spot for people who just want to live their lives in peace.

Viktor's changed a bit, but you still love him. It’s a bit staggering sometimes, but when it’s just you two it’s like nothing changed.

Except for the fact Viktor is much more touchy now.

A hand wrapped around your waist, on your hip, a hand gripping your bicep, your thigh. His hands moving up and down your sides, your back, a hand casually placed between your thighs.

The two of you are showing more skin than ever before. Viktor with his blanket dress held together with leather straps and a pin, you with your loose bottoms that sinch around your waist and cover your genitals, your legs completely exposed, with a small loose top to match.

Everyone knows your importance to The Herald. Your place at his side.

Everyone knows you're his partner.

Your other partner is about to find out as well.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The two of you are making out like teenagers in your shared space of the commune. Groping and caressing each other desperately, Viktor takes off your loose shirt and gazes appreciatively at your chest. He flicks a nipple and you gasp in pleasure, he can’t help but smirk at you.

“So sweet for me, so needy. So perfect.”

You grind your hips against his and appreciate his body, his smooth purple skin, the metal bits attached to him, his tiny waist, his long hair.

The two of you are so consumed in each other that you don't hear someone enter your space, until you hear a gasp and a massive crash.

The two of you pull away quickly and look to the side, and see someone you didn't think you’d ever see again; it’s Jayce.

And he's gapping at the two of you.

“Jayce, you came.” Viktor states, his voice smooth and happy. You look to Viktor and he nods as you get off his lap, his handmade gown undone and pooling at his tiny waist; his chest bare for the world to see.

You casually walk to Jayce, the only part keeping you modest being your loincloth. Your chest is exposed, your jewelry tinkling as you walk to your other partner, the one you thought despised you two. The one you thought was lost to you two.

“Jayce, you’re here! I never thought I'd see you again!” You exclaim as you rush up to hug him. He's dirty, smells a bit off, and looks exhausted.

He's still handsome.

He slowly hugs you back and you feel him shiver as your shoulder gets wet. Oh… he's crying.

That won't do.

“Come with me, let's get you cleaned up.” You say sweetly as you guide him out of the commune, slowly tying your top back on. Jayce looks over his shoulder to stare at Viktor, who just lightly smiles at him and nods softly, “Go. I will be right here when you come back.”

Jayce goes without a fight.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You hum as you set the bath up, steam slowly spreading across the room. The scent is nice and light, a bit sweet as well. A nice mix of lavender and vanilla.

Jayce slowly undresses and hesitates when removing his leg brace, you help him and guide him into the warm fragranced water. He groans as he sits and appreciates the warmth of the water, helping his sore muscles.

“Do you need any help at all?” You ask quietly as you watch Jayce carefully, he looks at you and his lips thin in contemplation. “I can wash my own body. I'd need help with my back and hair though.”

You nod and hand him the soaped up cloth as he washes his arms, you get a cup and fill it with water, asking Jayce to tilt back his head; he does it easily.

A lathered hand of shampoo starts to massage his head and Jayce whines, pushing back into your hands, your eyebrows furrow, “What happened to you Jayce? You're different…”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you're not. You're tired, you're hurt, you're leaning into my touch like a cat appreciating the sunlight.”

Jayce sighs sadly, “I don't know. I fell into a cave, my hammer fell onto my leg, I felt like I was going insane.”

You quietly look at him as you rinse the shampoo out of his hair, adding conditioner, and taking the rag to wash his back as Jayce just sits there.

The silence is broken by a whisper, “What is this place?”

“This is a commune for peace. To be healed, cared for, to be hidden from the war.”

Jayce inhales sharply and looks to you over his shoulder as you rinse his back, “What do you all do here? I saw a garden and… a forge.”

You smile as you tilt his head back and clean his hair one last time, “We’re self-sufficient. We cleansed the soil for prime gardening, and we make everything ourselves.”

“Why a forge?”

“Because we miss you Jayce. We love you, and we wanted a reminder of you; even when you're not here.”

Jayce’s exhale is choppy at your statement, “You two looked pretty cosy.”

You laugh at his indignant tone, “No need for jealousy Jayce, there's only two people Viktor wants by his side, and the other finally came to us.”

Jayce looks at you like a kicked puppy as you lightly kiss his cheek, “Time to change your clothes. I won't let you wear those dirty rags anymore. Its time you experience some comfort after what you've been through.”

Jayce lets you dress him up like a doll without fuss before leading him back to the commune.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Viktor truly hasn't move from his spot. He only gets up when he sees you and Jayce. He sashays toward you two.

“Come, relax. I believe a long sleep is what you desperately need Jayce.”

Jayce huffs a laugh as Viktor puts a hand on his shoulder, slowly crawling up to cup his nape. Running his fingers at the back of his head. Your hand is still clasped into one of his.

He slumps into the bed, and damn near passes out in milliseconds. His eyes peer open as you and Viktor take a spot on each side of the exhausted man.

Viktor is carding a hand through Jayce's hair as you trace his face lightly with the pads of your hand, dragging them down his neck and chest.

Jayce sighs in content as you two take care of him. He's needed this, desperately.

“Sleep Jayce.” Viktor quietly states as he plays with his hair, “We’ll be here when you wake up.” You sweetly add as you look to your other partner.

Jayce's eyes slowly shut as his breath evens out, the two of you don't stop lightly touching him until you're certain he's asleep.

“He came.” You quietly say, your voice tinged with awe. Viktor smiles lightly at you, “He did.”

“He’s staying.”

“He is.” Viktor consents to your demanding tone. As if he'd let Jayce leave. He's his other partner, he won't let him out of his sight.

Hopefully Jayce complies.

If not... You'll make him.

He belongs to the two of you after all.

😏😏😏 oh to be Viktors concubine as he's the herald.

p.s. Your outfit is inspired by Chel’s from “The Road to Eldorado” (2000)

[gain-stuff-eat]

i yearn to make someone insatiable and gluttonous

to hear them ask, "what's happening to me?" with barely contained lust as they reach for more food, moaning around another bite because they just can't stop eating

their hand drifting to squeeze their expanding sides, their growing underbelly, jiggling their fat, unable to stop touching themself, drunk on the delicious taste of everything and shifting their bulk because they're addicted to the weight and heft of their decadent body

tilting their head back greedily to get the last few crumbs or drops, cleaning their plate without a single thought other than desiring more

i want them edge to themself at my command, keep them straddled between pleasure and only more pleasure. constantly tipping but unable to seek relief until i say so - or they can't stop themselves

i'll reward them either way. i want them to enjoy themself, after all. i want to see their eyes roll back, mouth slack as they fail to control themself around food. i like knowing that they get breathy and wet at just the thought of being stuffed and fattened, let alone deliriously turned on that they're this feedback loop we've conditioned into them

and that's only if they're good. only if they give in to the hedonism, let themself go, and eat

they have to make all the greedy noises they try to repress in proper company. the gluttonous moans, the whimpers, the beached groans. i want to hear the desperation in their voice, rising up from their throat as they realize they're still not full despite the way their stomach rounds out in front of them

rubbing their belly in wide circles, their face so blissed out as they say, "i'm so fat, make me fatter, please. i just want to keep eating, please. i want to get so big for you. just... more. i need more." then after days and weeks, i want them whine about how nothing fits. i want to see them struggling into outfits, to enjoy how the results of their gluttony makes their pudge teasingly peak out and spill over and press against fabric

i want them to beg for me to touch them. i want to tell them how good they're being indulging for me and themself, while patting and hefting their growing gut. i want them to blush and moan as i do

"so sensitive now," i'd say playfully with a grin, pressing a thumb into their navel. i want the simple brush of my fingers across their overhang to make their mouth water because suddenly they want to eat for me. "you just seem to keep growing," i'd tease, "but of course you've gotten so greedy. it's no surprise that every time i see you, you look bigger."

horny texts and videos, late night calls and video chats clearly showing how they can't help themself anymore, that they love gorging on whatever they want, as they pant and eat and moan and orgasm. the undeniable evidence in their stretchmarks and empty wrappers and whines of discomfort, in bursting out of clothes and the hazy, pleased smile when they finish an enormous meal and still want more

i want hedonism to look so good on them

and i want it to be my fault

[copilot-crashout]

hii!! >w< may i request anti-tulpar au mouthwashing characters x gender neutral reader hcs? (both sfw and/or nsfw hcs? honestly i don’t mind if you leave out the nsfw part, sfw hcs are just fine! ^^) i haven’t seen a lot of anti-tulpar content and i love the au smmmm! your work is also so good omgg >w<

Pairing: Anti!Tulpar crew x gn!reader

Content Warning: There are NSFW HCs here! It's my first time writing anything NSFW. Please keep that in mind!! ( -᷄ _ -᷅ ; ) Also, there are mentions of stalking Jimmy + blood kink for him. Misogynistic ideology on Curly's part.

[A/N]: I love anti!Tulpar so much... They're so interesting to me!! ˶ ˊ ᵕ ˋ ˶ Since both of these asks were similar, I decided to combine them... If @livvizible wants Anti!Curly separately, please ask me again!! ᕦ(˵•̀ᴥ•́˵)ᕤ

In other news, if people want to talk to me more personally, I'd be happy to make another blog/give my other socials. Just let me know~!

[SFW] CAPTAIN CURLY:

-> He runs a tight ship, nothing gets past his eyes. Whatever orders he barks out, he expects to be followed. His ship is one set by law and order, and yet you seem to be the only exception. You're the only one he could consider his equal, after all.

-> This guy thrives off PDA. He'd be happy to make out with you in front of the rest of the crew, so long as they know who you belong to. He always keeps a hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him when he's focused on his work and when he wants to distract you. His pride still hits you, but rather than being worked like a dog, he drags you out of it, only to chuckle at how easy it was to distract you.

-> Speaking of work, he'd be happy to let you into the cockpit, so long as you finished your assigned tasks for the day. While he wouldn't normally be one for too much affection while piloting the ship, he'd be happy to let you sit in his lap while he worked. He rests his head on your shoulder as he stares at the screen before him, keeping an eye on where they are heading.

-> Please make sure he doesn't work himself to the bone. If you bring him some snacks or a drink and keep him company, he'll thrive off it more than he can say. He still yearns for aspects of domestic life, the peacefulness foreign to him, but a welcome unknown, nonetheless.

-> Loves to give gifts. This man has expensive taste, and he's sure to show that to you with the gifts he gets you. You're a reflection of him. If he wants to maintain his image, you need to be in top shape, too. That's the excuse he gives, at least, when instead of a brand new set of clothes, he settles for giving you a massage, his tough hands working the knots in your back, eyes drilling into you with a focused glare.

[NSFW] CAPTAIN CURLY:

-> He's a certified freak. You've probably had sex in most of the rooms. His dick throbs at the idea of someone catching you two while you fuck, as if it's the equivalent of marking you as his. Though most rounds are usually quickies, he doesn't have time for long, drawn-out nights. That, and it makes him feel too vulnerable to have soft, vanilla sex.

-> The Captain is known to smoke cigars. He's more than happy to extinguish them on your body. During work hours, it's a press onto the back of your hand, the heat burning the skin to leave a mark that would heal within a few days. During sex, he grins as he watches your body flinch at the sudden heat pressed onto your back, leaving a mark only he can see.

-> He's not one to ever bottom. His belief in masculinity makes him near-inflexible in the bedroom. Giving up control in any sense of the word is too effeminate for him even worse when it's voluntary. He's a man; He shouldn't be the one whimpering or begging for mercy. Instead, he fucks you raw. His favourite position is doggy style (trust). He's pulling your hair; forcing you into a sloppy kiss as he fucks you senseless.

-> Mirror sex with him is so attractive. He wants you to see the power he lords over you, how dishevelled you look in front of your superior. He can't help but admire how captivating you are, back arched and whining for more, a steady thrum of power coursing through his veins. He knows he's the only one to make you feel that good, and he certainly won't stop.

[SFW] JANITOR JIMMY:

-> He's surprised you even wanted to date someone like him. Jimmy can only see himself as the dirt beneath your shoe. He barely deserves to be seen, especially by you, but he's ecstatic when you give him the time of day. Jimmy's better described as your loyal worshipper rather than a lover.

-> Jimmy finds himself too excited at the prospect of standing next to you. He's giddy, grinning like a schoolgirl for having the luxury of breathing the same air as you. His devotion to you is unwavering.

-> He faces relentless bullying from the other crew members becoming the designated doormat of the ship. He's embarrassed about it. Not because of his treatment. No, no. His fears are about how they reflect on you, his sweet darling. Is he unsightly to you? He isn't a strong man, he'd understand if you treated him the same too. He deserved it.

-> You're too good for the ship. You shouldn't be working a blue-collar, dead-end job like this. How about you leave it all to him. You won't even have to lift a single pretty finger. Just acknowledge him, and he'll be yours forever. He'd work himself to the bone so long as you smiled at him.

-> If you asked for anything, he would do his best to fulfil it! Need a drink? He could prepare coffee better than that simple vending machine. He knows your taste. Tired? He'll be your loyal assistant, trailing you more like a lost puppy as he asks you to bark orders at him!

-> Jimmy uses his role to his advantage. He's just the janitor, so he needs to be in your room to clean in, silly! He'll leave small gifts in places only you or he would ever see. A small necklace in your cupboard drawer, notes professing their adoration on your mirror. He wants you to know how much you mean to him! If you notice a pencil missing here or a glove missing there, he can only give you a small pout and a promise to look out for it while he's cleaning.

-> He's red-faced and stuttering whenever you make any contact with him, eyes focused on anything but you. Jimmy could just faint then and there when you kissed his cheek for the first time. He barely initiated any contact at the beginning of your relationship, still believing it couldn't be true. Jimmy was sure it was just a dare from Anya. Eventually, he warms up to it, happy to hold you for as long as you'd like, the caveat being it would be in private rather than anything the others could see.

-> He memorises your schedule. That's not creepy, is it? If you see him more often while working, he gives you a bright grin, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he lets you get on with your work, lest you want Captain Curly to yell you into tears. Your relationship is quiet but finds itself weaved into the mundanity of the ship. Its presence is a lingering feeling of warmth rather than any outstanding proclamation of true love.

[NSFW] JANITOR JIMMY:

-> Worship, worship, worship. It goes both ways, honestly. He leaves small kisses across your body, misty-eyed as he thanks you, thanks whatever God there is that you somehow find worth in him. Even if you were using him, it would be okay. You see him. If you praised him, he'd break into tears, soft sobs as your gentle hands trail over his scar-littered body (some from little cuts on the job, others from "accidents" he experienced in his life). He's never felt so happy. It's as close to heaven as he'll ever get to.

-> He's a sucker for any position where he can see your face. He needs reassurance from you to see you enjoying your time together. It's soft and romantic, something he didn't think he'd ever be able to experience.

-> He's not loud in bed by any means (at least when he tops). The most you hear are soft whines while he ruts into you hard or a breathy moan when he cums. If he bottoms, it's a whole different story. He feels totally ashamed, but it's mixed in with such pleasure that his whole self is thrown off. He lets out loud moans, trying to silence himself with his own hand. If you pull his hand away, he squeezes his eyes shut, afraid to see your reaction when he's begging for more.

-> You are his top priority. Anything you want, he'll give you. Nothing is off the table for him, so long as it's what you want. Feel free to get as freaky as you want with him, he'll allow it (and at some point finds himself enjoying it, too).

-> As soft as he is, I think Jimmy has a pretty strong sadistic streak. Definitely has a blood kink, honestly. There's something utterly depraved, hauntingly infatuating in giving him the power to wound yourself and him, pressing them together to stare as the blood spills over, intertwining the very essence of yourselves. Unsanitary and could probably cause infections? Yeah. Is it hot? Absolutely.

-> Following this train of thought, he has it in him to snap and go rough. Once in a blue moon, when tensions are too high and you've been ignoring him for a moment too long, he'll grab your wrist harshly and pull you into an abandoned room, whispering how much he hates it when you ignore him. He'll find ways for you to keep your eyes on him, even if it means a rough fuck where anyone can walk in.

[SFW] ACTUARY DAISUKE:

-> He's very cat-like. Whenever he's free from work, he'll go out of his way to find you, only to start complaining at how much of a task it was to find you. Yet, he still stays. Watching as you work, waiting until you're finished so all your attention can be devoted to him.

-> You're co-workers first, and lovers second. He worked hard to get his job here and would rather be caught dead than be seen as 'unprofessional.' Daisuke initiating any kind of affection is left strictly behind closed doors. The same doesn't have to apply to you.

-> If you surprise him with any kind of affection in public, he'll grumble, yet won't push you off. His excuse? You'd only get more clingy if he denies you attention now. Just don't mention how he relaxed at your touch, face softening a fraction by your company or else he'll push you off and storm off to the opposite side of the ship.

-> Another character for gifts. An actuary gets paid well, and he's got the things he needs. Might as well spend it on you. He'd never mention the way his heart skips when he sees your face light up at his surprise gift - no matter how expensive it was.

-> He's still one to play games, though! He knows all the cheat codes and he's a total completionist - a perfectionist in every sense of the word. Daisuke would be more than happy to let you play but would be even more ecstatic if you watched him play in the privacy of his room.

[NSFW] ACTUARY DAISUKE:

-> He bottoms, most if not all the time. He's just so stressed. He works so hard. What's a better way to unwind than spending time with his beloved?

-> He lets out breathy moans whenever you suck him off. Daisuke isn't one for roughness, as much as he tries to say otherwise. He's not the type to be extremely loud. The most you hear is a quiet "fuck..." from him, or a small whine.

-> Fan of mutual masturbation. He wants to know everything about you. That, and he enjoys watching your eyes flicker from his face down to his hand stroking his own cock. If Daisuke is in a good mood, he might make small comments, most being rhetorical questions about how you ever felt good without him.

-> There are so few headcanons for him NSFW-wise as I don't think he has much of a libido, honestly. It's unlike Tulpar!Daisuke where it's through the roof. He's happy to accommodate your needs, otherwise it's not something he thinks about.

[SFW] MECHANIC ANYA:

-> She's prideful, and she's not afraid to show it. By extension, you should be just as confident. Anya is your biggest hype girl. No matter what you do on the ship, she's there with a wide grin, ruffling your hair with a compliment.

-> As the mechanic, she's strong. You'll find yourself off the ground at random points of the day, Anya throwing you over her shoulder and sauntering off to god knows where. She'll never ask for your attention, only pulling stunts like these because she deserves it, obviously.

-> She wants you to praise her, too. Anya shows off around you, talking to you about a difficult task she was able to solve, or how even the Captain had to call her over to sort something out in the cockpit. She preens whenever she hears you comment on a job well done, brushing it off with a "Well, it was simple."

-> The girl is your biggest defender. If Daisuke gets too snappy with you, or the Captain is ripping you a new one, Anya will intervene with no remorse. She's happy to send them an irritated glare, pushing you behind her as she complains about how they even have the time to complain in the first place.

-> Playful ribbing with her is a must. You won't have a day with Anya where she doesn't poke fun at you (lovingly). If you tease back, she makes it a competition. Curly's exasperated when he pulls you two out of the third fake fight of the week.

[NSFW] MECHANIC ANYA:

-> Her sole focus is on you. She knows she's great in bed and she'll prove it.

-> A fan of anything oral, especially as foreplay. Her grin only widens when you're on your third orgasm of the night, begging her to slow down when she hasn't even gotten to the main show yet. If you gave her oral, she's clinging to your hair, her other hand clutching the bedsheet with a knuckle-white grip.

-> She's a huge fan of contact. Her hands are trailing any part of you that's not covered, poking and petting to see your reaction. She gets a massive kick out of it if you're especially ticklish. Even during sex, she'll find a way to make you giggle.

-> Another one for exhibitionism, except worse. She's happy to use any toy on you, so long as she holds onto the remote. Anya stands in the kitchen, eyes focused on you trying to keep your composure.

-> On particularly stressful days, she'll let you top and God's is she loud. She can only flush red when you slap your own hand over her mouth, desperately whining and bucking her hips into whatever touch you give her, her usual pride shattered.

[SFW] CHEF SWANSEA:

-> The kindest man on the ship, by far. You're everything he could've dreamed of. Daisuke rolls his eyes whenever he sees you together, grumbling about the jobs you were both forgetting about.

-> He's an old soul, and by extension has more traditional ideas of romance. His favourite thing to do is to wake you up with breakfast in bed, watching you get accustomed to being back in the land of the living, setting a tray of food in front of you.

-> The domestic life is pure bliss for him. It's hard on a ship with such extreme characters, but the kitchen becomes a second home to both of you. The others don't seem to care much for it – bar Jimmy who has to clean it every so often – meaning you two can spend quiet time together.

-> He'll teach you his recipes! He's happily waltzing around the kitchen, keeping an eye on you (and the food) as he tells you the common mistakes people make when cooking.

-> Shockingly good at reading any mood. You won't even have to tell him you're feeling sad, as he's already lending you a hand wherever you need it.

[NSFW] CHEF SWANSEA:

-> Another lover boy. This time, it's even more romantic.

-> Sucker for plain, vanilla sex. I don't think he could do many rounds at once, either. He's not in his prime anymore (and feels quite bad about it). He loves you though, and tries his best to meet your needs. Expect lots of foreplay. Your pleasure comes before his own, time and time again.

-> Swansea is more than happy to give you oral for hours. He still wants you to feel satisfied, even with his less-than-stellar stamina. You're the best thing he's tasted, perhaps better than his cooking!

-> With that, I think he'd be a fan of overstimulating you. He's happy to know you feel good, and wants you to feel your best! Swansea is more than delighted to make you cum over and over again, even before having penetrative sex.

-> He's good with his hands, too. This old man was able to rack up a lot of experience, you know.

-> If you're someone with a high sex drive, he'll do his best to meet your needs. Don't mind the flush on his cheeks, he's just not used to it. Same with people who are into more intense kinks - he's happy to please but you might have to guide him.

-> However, harming you is a no-go for him. Degradation is something he's hesitant about and outright violent kinks are ones he wouldn't go so far in exploring.

[hisfavegirl]

Twisted Heart - Aegon Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Summary : One stolen moment had led to another, and before you knew it, you were tangled in a web of passion and deceit. Aegon was nothing like Jace; he was unpredictable, possessive, and maddeningly intoxicating. He made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t thought possible. And while the court saw you as Jace’s loyal wife, the truth lay in the quiet nights spent in Aegon’s arms, in the stolen kisses and whispered promises that neither of you could keep.

Word Count : 7,7k

Aegon Targaryen Masterlist.

House Of The Dragon Masterlist.

and also big thanks to @zaldritzosrose for let me using yours beautiful dividers 🫶🏻.

The firelight flickered softly across the room as you sat on Aegon's lap, your arms loosely draped around his shoulders. His hold on you was firm and unrelenting, as though he needed to feel every part of you to convince himself you were truly there. His head rested against the curve of your neck, his breath warm as it fanned over your skin.

Your fingers moved gently through his hair, the silky strands slipping between them as you stroked his head soothingly. Aegon sighed, a sound that was both content and laced with longing. His grip on your waist tightened slightly, drawing you closer, his chest pressed flush against yours.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he murmured suddenly, his lips brushing your collarbone as he spoke.

You hummed softly, your fingers not pausing in their gentle ministrations. "When?" you asked, your voice quiet but curious.

"When you were carrying," he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper, almost as though he was afraid to say it aloud. "You looked... so beautiful. So radiant. Like you were glowing. I couldn't stop looking at you."

You couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped you, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze. "Aegon, I'm not sure 'glowing' is the word l'd use. I was exhausted half the time and swollen the other half."

He shook his head, his violet eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. "No," he said firmly. "You were stunning. You carried my child, our child. And you shone with it. Every time I saw you, I couldn't believe you were real."

His words sent a warmth spreading through your chest, and you leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You're sweet," you murmured against his hair, your voice filled with fondness.

Aegon pulled back slightly, his lips brushing the side of your neck. "You know," he whispered, his voice low and intimate, "you could look like that again."

You froze for a moment, his words sinking in, before a small smirk tugged at your lips. "Oh?" you asked softly, tilting your head to the side to give him better access to your neck.

He took the invitation, his lips trailing lightly along your skin as he continued. "I could give you another child," he murmured, his hands sliding up your back. "I could make you round and heavy with my seed again. I'd love to see you like that, glowing and carrying my child."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the sheer possessiveness in his tone sending a shiver down your spine. You tilted his chin up with your fingers, forcing him to look at you. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" you whispered, your voice teasing but thick with desire.

Aegon's eyes darkened as he nodded, his hands gripping your waist more tightly. "More than anything," he confessed. "I'd fill you again and again, until there was no question whose child you were carrying."

You leaned in, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear as you whispered, "Then do it, Aegon. Give me another child. Make me yours, completely and utterly."

The tension between you was electric, the air in the room thick with unspoken promises. Aegon growled softly, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate kiss, his hands roaming your body with a fervor that left no doubt about his intentions.

His lips moved against yours in a deep, intoxicating kiss, his hands strong yet gentle as they held you. A soft moan escaped you, lost in the heat of the moment, as he pulled you closer, his need for you evident in every movement.

Without breaking the kiss, he slid his hands under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. You felt his strength as he carried you to the bed, his lips never leaving yours, his body pressing firmly yet tenderly against you. The cool sheets beneath you were a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from him as he laid you down gently, as if you were something precious, fragile even.

His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck, where he lingered, his breath warm against your skin. His hands worked skillfully at the ties of your gown, loosening them with an urgency that spoke of his desire but a care that reminded you of his devotion.

You gasped softly as the fabric began to slip from your shoulders, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair. You tugged lightly, drawing a low, husky groan from him that sent shivers down your spine.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his violet eyes dark with intensity, filled with something primal yet reverent. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "So perfect like this... beneath me, so helpless and mine."

Your cheeks flushed at his words, but you couldn't stop the small smile that played on your lips. "Do you enjoy seeing me like this?" you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of teasing and longing.

Aegon's lips curled into a smirk, his gaze never leaving yours. "More than you know," he admitted, his fingers tracing the now-exposed skin of your shoulder. "You look like a goddess, lying here, completely at my mercy."

You let out a soft laugh, your fingers tightening in his hair. "And what would you do with a goddess, my prince?" you teased, your tone light but your eyes dark with desire.

His smirk softened into something more sincere, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "Worship her," he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, slow and deliberate. "I would worship her in every way, until she knew nothing but me."

Your breath hitched at his words, your heart pounding in your chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you whispered, "Then show me, Aegon. Show me how a goddess should be worshiped."

He groaned softly at your invitation, his lips finding their way back to your neck as his hands continued their slow, deliberate exploration of your body. "You're already mine," he whispered against your skin, his voice a mix of reverence and possession. "But tonight, I'll make sure you never forget it."

The room was heavy with heat, the fire in the hearth crackling softly in the background, though it was nothing compared to the warmth shared between you and Aegon. His body moved against yours with agonizing slowness, every deliberate motion sending waves of pleasure through you that built and built but never quite tipped over the edge.

You couldn't hold back the soft, frustrated moan that escaped your lips, your fingers curling against his back as he pressed kisses along your neck, his lips grazing your skin like a promise. His breath was warm, his movements calculated, as though he had all the time in the world and intended to use every second to savor you.

"Aegon," you breathed, your voice trembling with a mix of desperation and longing. Your hands slid up into his hair, tugging lightly, trying to convey your need. "Please... faster."

He let out a low chuckle, his lips curving into a smirk against your neck. "Faster?" he murmured, his voice deep and teasing. "But I'm enjoying this far too much."

You whimpered softly, your hips shifting instinctively to meet his movements, but he held you firmly in place, his grip on your waist unyielding. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his violet eyes dark and filled with mischief. "Look at you," he whispered, his tone almost reverent. "So desperate at my touch, just like a whore you're."

You groaned in frustration, your fingers tightening in his hair as you tried to pull him closer. "Aegon, please," you begged, your voice breaking with need.

He smirked again, clearly relishing the effect he had on you. "You're so impatient," he teased, leaning down to brush his lips against yours, his kiss light and fleeting. "But why should I rush? I want to savor every second of this, of you. I want to remember how you look, how you sound, how you feel when I have you like this."

His words only made the ache inside you grow, and you let out another soft moan, your frustration clear. "You're torturing me," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"Am I?" he asked innocently, though the smirk playing at the corner of his lips betrayed him.

"I think I'm being quite generous, actually. I'm giving us time... time to enjoy this, time to enjoy each other."

You let out a shuddering breath, your head falling back against the pillow as you tried to fight the growing tension in your body.

"Aegon," you whimpered, your voice pleading.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You'll thank me later, my love. When you're lying here, completely spent and trembling, you'll thank me for making this last."

You could feel the grin on his lips as he pressed another kiss to your neck, and despite the frustration coursing through you, you couldn't deny the thrill that came with his deliberate torment. He wanted to drive you mad, to make you beg, to remind you that no one else could ever make you feel this way.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you wouldn't want it any other way.

His movements had shifted suddenly, no longer slow and deliberate, but fast, rough, and unrelenting. The sound of your breathless moans and the way you called his name only seemed to spur him on, his grin widening as he took in the sight of you beneath him.

Your body trembled under his touch, your back arching instinctively, meeting each of his movements with desperate urgency. Every muscle in you tightened, your fingers clutching at the sheets as you cried out for him. He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he groaned your name in a way that made your head spin.

"Aegon," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper as your body moved in perfect rhythm with his. "Please..."

His chuckle was low, rough, and filled with dark satisfaction. "What is it, love?" he asked, though he didn't pause, his hands gripping your hips tightly, holding you exactly where he wanted you. "You're already taking everything I'm giving you. What more do you need?"

You couldn't respond, your body shuddering as his pace quickened. His lips found your neck again, biting down gently before soothing the spot with his tongue. "You look so perfect like this," he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and breathless. "So utterly mine."

One of his hands slid up, cupping your face with firm but gentle insistence. His fingers pressed into your cheeks as he tilted your head, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Look at me," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You obeyed, your half-lidded, pleasure-clouded eyes locking onto his. His violet gaze burned with intensity, his pupils blown wide with lust as he took in every detail of your flushed face, your parted lips, and the way you trembled beneath him.

"Gods," he groaned, his movements becoming even more erratic, his grip on you tightening.

"You're so beautiful like this. Look at you-weak, trembling, begging for me. Tell me," he demanded, his voice dropping lower. "Tell me who you belong to."

Your lips parted, and through your shuddering breaths, you managed to whisper, "You... Aegon. I'm yours."

The words seemed to snap something inside him, and he growled low in his throat, his hand sliding down to grip your waist again. "That's right," he murmured, his voice thick with possessiveness. "You're mine. Always."

Your body gave out beneath him, your strength fading as his pace remained relentless. He smirked down at you, his free hand brushing a strand of hair from your sweat-dampened face. "Look at you," he whispered, almost in awe. "So perfect. So wrecked. And all because of me."

You could only moan in response, your body arching as another wave of pleasure washed over you. His eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with raw desire and something deeper, something more profound. In that moment, there was no denying it-you were his, completely and utterly, and he was yours in return.

Your body trembled uncontrollably under Aegon's relentless touch, his fingers working you with a skill that left you breathless, his name spilling from your lips in desperate cries.

"Aegon," you whimpered, your voice trembling as his hand found the sensitive bud of yours. Your entire body jolted at the sensation, the intensity overwhelming, your head falling back against the pillows as you gasped.

Above you, Aegon groaned deeply, his voice rough and laced with desire. "Gods, you're so perfect," he growled, his lips brushing against your ear as his fingers continued their tormenting rhythm. "My perfect little sister... the mother of my children."

The possessive way he spoke only heightened the fire coursing through you, and your hands clutched at his neck, pulling him closer.

"Aegon," you begged, your voice breaking with need. "Please... I need you."

He chuckled darkly, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a kiss to your neck, his teeth grazing lightly before pulling back to look at you. His violet eyes burned with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "You need me?" he repeated, his smirk growing. "What is it you need, my love? Tell me."

Your cheeks flushed at his teasing, but the overwhelming desire in you drowned out any sense of embarrassment. "I need you," you repeated, your voice trembling. "I need you to give me another child, Aegon. Fill me with your seed. Make me heavy and round with your baby."

A low, guttural growl escaped him at your words, and his grip on your hips tightened, pulling you even closer. "You want that?" he murmured, his lips brushing over yours in a teasing kiss. "You want me to put another child in you? To make you swollen and full with my baby?"

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want it. I want you to claim me completely, to make me yours in every way."

His smirk faded into something darker, more serious, as he leaned down, his forehead resting against yours. "You're already mine," he whispered, his voice filled with both tenderness and possession. "But if that's what you want... if you want me to make you mine all over again, I will. I'll give you as many children as you want, and l'll make sure everyone knows they're mine."

You shuddered at his words, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him into a searing kiss. He responded with equal fervor, his movements becoming more urgent as he lost himself in you.

"Say it again," he growled against your lips, his voice demanding. "Say you want my babe."

"I want your babe," you cried out, your voice breaking as your body trembled beneath him. "I want you to fill me, Aegon. I want to carry your child."

The fire between you burned brighter, consuming everything else as he claimed you completely. His touch, his words, his very presence left no doubt-you were his, body and soul, and he would give you exactly what you asked for.

The room was filled with the heated sounds of your labored breaths and soft cries, the firelight dancing across the walls but paling in comparison to the heat between you and Aegon. His movements were powerful and unrelenting, and your body responded instinctively, squeezing him tightly in a way that made him groan deeply, his voice vibrating against your skin.

Aegon's gaze was fixed on you, his violet eyes darkened with desire as he watched the way your body moved beneath him. Your skin was flushed, glistening with sweat, your lips parted as you gasped for breath. His lips curved into a smug, almost predatory smile, the sound of your pleasure fueling his pride.

"You feel that?" he growled, his voice low and rough, filled with possessiveness. "You feel how perfectly we fit together? No one else could ever make you feel like this."

You couldn't form words, your head tilting back as another wave of pleasure coursed through you, leaving you trembling beneath him. He chuckled softly, the sound low and filled with dark satisfaction. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Your husband will never know, will he?" he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance.

"He'll never know that no matter how hard he tries, he'll never make you feel this way. He could never make you scream his name the way you scream mine."

You whimpered softly, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you struggled to catch your breath. "No one else," you managed to whisper, your voice trembling. "Only you, Aegon. Only you can make me feel like this."

He groaned at your words, his hands tightening on your hips as he drove into you with renewed intensity. "Say it again," he demanded, his voice thick with need. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," you cried out, your body arching beneath him. "I'm only yours, Aegon. No one else."

He let out a low growl of satisfaction, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless. Pulling back just enough to look at you, he smirked, his gaze filled with both adoration and possession.

"That's right," he said, his voice rough and filled with pride. "You're mine, and no one else will ever have you the way I do."

Your eyes met his, and despite the intensity of the moment, you found yourself smiling, your hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from his face. "I've always been yours, Aegon," you whispered, your voice soft but firm. "And I always will be."

His smirk softened into something more genuine, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he gazed down at you. "And I'll always make sure you know it," he promised, his voice filled with emotion.

In that moment, there was no one else-no husband, no titles, no world beyond the two of you. It was just Aegon and the undeniable bond you shared, a connection that went beyond reason, beyond duty, beyond anything either of you could control.

Your cries filled the air as Aegon's powerful thrusts drove you closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling under the relentless pace he set. His grunts were deep and guttural, echoing in your ears as he chased his own release, the tension in his movements palpable.

When your body finally gave in, the wave of pleasure crashing over you, you cried out his name, your nails digging into his back. Aegon growled in response, his rhythm faltering for just a moment before he pressed on, his own peak drawing near.

"Gods, you feel so good," he groaned, his voice thick and hoarse. "So perfect. I'm so close."

You clung to him, your breaths mingling as he pushed himself to the brink. With one final, deep thrust, he groaned loudly, his head falling to your shoulder as his release consumed him.

You felt the warmth of him filling you, his grip on your hips tightening as he held you in place, refusing to let even an inch of space exist between you.

The two of you remained still for a moment, your bodies entwined as you caught your breath. Aegon's head rested against your neck, his lips brushing your skin as he murmured, "You're incredible... utterly perfect."

But as his breathing began to steady, you felt a lingering hunger within you, a desire that hadn't yet been fully sated. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you moved slowly, pushing against his chest. Aegon lifted his head, his violet eyes filled with curiosity as you gently but firmly urged him onto his back.

"What are you-" he began, but his words caught in his throat as you climbed atop him, straddling his hips. His eyes widened slightly, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Oh," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement and anticipation.

You leaned down, your hands pressing against his chest as you hovered just above him. "Did you think we were finished?" you asked, your voice soft but teasing. "I'm not done with you yet."

Aegon's smirk grew, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as he gazed up at you with a mix of surprise and admiration. "Well, well," he said, his tone playful. "I didn't realize my sweet little sister could be so demanding."

You tilted your head, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest as you replied, "Maybe you bring it out of me."

His hands tightened on your thighs, his smirk softening into something more serious. "Then take what you need," he said, his voice low and inviting. "I'm yours."

With that, you began to move, setting a slow, deliberate pace that had Aegon groaning beneath you. His hands roamed over your body, his touch both possessive and reverent as he watched you take control.

"Gods," he muttered, his head falling back against the pillow as you moved above him.

"You're going to kill me, you know that?" You couldn't help but laugh softly, your movements never faltering. "You can handle it" you replied, your voice breathless but teasing.

He looked back up at you, his gaze filled with both admiration and raw desire. "You're incredible," he murmured, his hands sliding up to grip your waist. "Every inch of you. Mine."

"Yours," you agreed, your voice a soft whisper as you leaned down to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

The room was filled with the intimate sounds of your heavy breaths and soft moans, your body moving languidly atop Aegon's. The sensation of being so full, so utterly claimed by him, was overwhelming. Your head tilted back, your hair cascading over your shoulders as you rode him, your hands resting on his chest for balance.

Aegon's eyes were fixed on you, his gaze dark and filled with satisfaction. He looked utterly captivated, watching the way your body bounced above him, his lips curling into a self-assured smirk. His hands slid from your hips to your waist, his grip firm but not restricting as he guided your movements, meeting you halfway with deliberate thrusts of his own.

"You look divine like this," he murmured, his voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine. "Do you even realize how perfect you are? My sweet little sister, my lover, my whore."

You didn't respond with words, your body answering for you as you leaned into his touch, letting him guide you. The firelight cast a warm glow across your flushed skin, and the way his hands moved over you made it impossible to think of anything but him.

Then, his lips twisted into a grin as a thought seemed to cross his mind. His hands stilled your movements briefly, and he leaned up slightly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before letting his fingers trail down to your cheek.

"Your husband, Jace," he said, his tone dripping with mockery. "He's a fool, isn't he?"

You blinked at him, your brows furrowing slightly even as your body trembled under his touch. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice breathless.

Aegon chuckled darkly, his hands sliding back down to your hips as he began to move you again, his rhythm slow and deliberate. "Letting you come here on your own," he explained, his smirk widening. "Allowing you to be in my grasp, knowing full well what I'm capable of."

You bit your lip, unable to suppress a soft moan as he guided your movements with maddening precision. "He trusts me," you managed to say, though your voice wavered under the intensity of his gaze.

Aegon laughed softly, the sound rich with amusement. "Trusts you? Or underestimates you?" he asked, his tone teasing but sharp. His hand moved from your waist to your face, cupping your cheek gently before tapping it harsly, almost mockingly.

The unexpected action made you gasp softly, your eyes widening in surprise. Aegon's smirk deepened at your reaction, his thumb brushing over your lips. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "So responsive. So eager. Do you think he could ever make you feel like this?"

You didn't answer, your body trembling as his pace quickened slightly, his movements becoming more purposeful. "No," you whispered finally, your voice barely audible.

"Only you." Aegon's smirk softened into something more possessive, his hand returning to your hip as he thrust into you with more force, drawing a loud moan from your lips. "That's right," he growled, his tone dark and commanding. "Only me. And don't you forget it."

You leaned forward, your hands gripping his shoulders as you surrendered completely to him. The world outside the room faded away, leaving only the two of you tangled together, consumed by the intensity of your forbidden bond.

The moment Aegon flipped you over, pinning you beneath him, your breath hitched, anticipation crackling in the charged air between you. His weight settled over you, pressing you firmly into the mattress as his hands framed your face. His gaze locked with yours, dark and smoldering, filled with a hunger that seemed insatiable.

"You've had your turn," he growled, his voice low and dripping with authority. "Now, let me remind you who you belong to."

Before you could respond, he surged forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss that left you breathless. His hands moved down your body, gripping your hips with enough force to leave marks as he set a relentless pace. The force of his movements sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, your body arching beneath him as you clung to his shoulders.

"Aegon," you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "Too much... I-"

"Never too much," he interrupted, his voice rough and strained with his own pleasure. He pulled back just enough to look at you, a cocky grin tugging at his lips as he saw the way your body trembled beneath him. "Look at you," he murmured, his tone both teasing and reverent. "So beautiful, so perfect. You take me so well, little sister."

Your cheeks flushed at his words, but the pleasure was too overwhelming for embarrassment. All you could do was hold on to him, your nails digging into his back as he drove you higher and higher.

The sound of your cries and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin filled the room, creating an intoxicating symphony of passion. Aegon's hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider as he pressed deeper, hitting spots that made your vision blur.

"Gods, you're mine," he growled, his voice laced with possessiveness. "No one else can have you like this. No one else can make you feel this way."

"Only you," you managed to gasp, your head tilting back against the pillows as another wave of pleasure wracked your body. "Only you, Aegon. I'm yours."

His smirk widened, his pace quickening as he chased his own release, his movements becoming almost frantic. "That's right," he groaned, his voice hoarse. "Mine. Always mine."

As he continued his relentless pace, your cries grew louder, your body trembling beneath him as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak. "Aegon," you cried out, your voice breaking as your release crashed over you, leaving you shuddering and breathless.

The sight of you unraveling beneath him was enough to send Aegon over the edge. With a guttural groan, he thrust into you one final time, his body tensing as he found his own release. The warmth of him spilling inside you sent a shiver through your body, the feeling both intimate and possessive.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your breaths mingling as you lay tangled together in the aftermath. Aegon's head rested against your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you as he held you close.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his voice soft and filled with genuine affection. "I don't deserve you, but l'll never let you go."

You smiled faintly, your fingers brushing through his damp hair as you whispered, "You don't have to. I'm yours, Aegon. Always."

And in that moment, the world outside your shared sanctuary ceased to exist. There was no judgment, no titles, no one to tear you apart-just the two of you, bound by a love as fierce as it was forbidden.

The golden light of the morning sun streamed through the windows of your chamber, casting a warm glow over the room. You stirred awake, still tangled in the sheets and in Aegon’s arms. His breathing was steady, his face nestled against your hair, his hold on you unrelenting even in his sleep.

But the peace shattered with the sound of your chamber door opening. Your eyes snapped open, panic tightening your chest as you turned your head to see who had entered.

Standing in the doorway, your mother, Alicent, surveyed the scene before her. She stood poised, her green gown catching the morning light as her sharp eyes took in the sight of you and Aegon tangled together. Her expression didn’t betray much—calm, composed, as always—but the flicker of disapproval and calculation in her gaze was unmistakable.

“Get up,” Alicent said coolly, her voice even but commanding. “Your husband will arrive shortly, and you must prepare yourself.”

Aegon groaned softly, shifting beside you but making no move to rise. His eyes opened halfway, and he let out a low, annoyed chuckle. “Let him come,” he muttered, his voice hoarse from sleep. “What does it matter? He’s blind to everything that happens under his nose.”

You glared at him, nudging him with your elbow, but he only grinned lazily and flopped back onto the pillows, closing his eyes as though dismissing the entire conversation.

Alicent’s eyes narrowed slightly at Aegon’s insolence, but she chose to ignore him for the moment. Instead, she stepped closer to you, her expression softening as she reached out to brush her fingers against your cheek. “You must be more careful,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost motherly. “Your… enthusiasm nearly ruined everything last night.”

You blinked, your cheeks flushing with both embarrassment and confusion. “Mother, I—”

“You were too loud,” Alicent interrupted, her sharp gaze cutting through your stammering. “Do you think the servants are deaf? Do you think there aren’t spies in this keep who would love to bring such news to Rhaenyra? You almost jeopardized everything we’ve worked for.”

Aegon let out a low chuckle from where he lay sprawled on the bed, his hands resting lazily behind his head. “Jeopardized everything?” he repeated mockingly. “Mother, let’s not pretend this isn’t exactly what you wanted.”

Alicent turned her gaze toward him, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Watch your tongue, Aegon,” she said sharply. “I’ve allowed this because I know what is at stake. But do not mistake my approval for indulgence.”

Aegon smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You allowed this?” he echoed, his tone teasing. “Come now, Mother, let’s call it what it is. You’ve encouraged this. You want her to bear my children, not his.”

You gasped softly at his brazenness, but Alicent didn’t flinch. Instead, she stepped closer to the bed, her voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “Do not test me, Aegon,” she warned. “You may be prince, but I still hold the power to ensure this arrangement benefits us all—or to end it if you become careless.”

Aegon’s smirk faltered slightly, but he quickly masked it with a shrug, turning his attention back to you. “See, little sister?” he said, his voice taking on a softer, more affectionate tone. “Even Mother knows that our blood is what’s needed for the future of this realm.”

Alicent straightened, smoothing her gown as she glanced between the two of you. “That is precisely why you must be cautious,” she said firmly. “When the time comes, it will be your children—true Targaryens—who will sit on the throne. Not Rhaenyra’s bastards.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking in. “And what about Jace?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling.

Alicent’s expression softened, but her resolve remained firm. “Jace is a good man,” she said. “But he is not what this realm needs. Play the dutiful wife, give him what he expects, and let him believe he holds your heart. But never forget where your true loyalty lies.”

Her eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before she turned and made her way to the door. As she reached it, she paused, looking over her shoulder. “Do not fail me,” she said, her voice cold and commanding. “The future of the realm depends on it.”

When the door closed behind her, silence filled the room. You turned to Aegon, who was watching you with a mixture of amusement and affection. “Well,” he said with a smirk, reaching out to pull you back into his arms. “Looks like Mother approves of us after all."

You sighed, resting your head against his chest. “She doesn’t approve of us,” you murmured. “She approves of the children she hopes we’ll create.”

Aegon chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Then let’s not disappoint her, shall we?” he said teasingly, his hands trailing down your back.

Despite the gravity of the situation, you couldn’t help but smile faintly. For now, at least, you could hold on to this forbidden moment of peace in Aegon’s arms.

You stood before the tall mirror in your chamber, adjusting the fine green gown that draped elegantly over your frame. The fabric shimmered under the morning light, but the weight of what the day would bring made your shoulders tense. You smoothed the folds of your dress, trying to focus on steadying your breathing.

The sound of soft, deliberate footsteps broke your concentration. You glanced at the reflection in the mirror, and there he was—Aegon, approaching you with that unmistakable smirk playing on his lips. His silver hair was slightly tousled, his expression one of lazy confidence as he closed the distance between you.

He stopped just behind you, his warm hands finding your waist as he gently pulled you back into him. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder as his arms wrapped around your middle, holding you close. “You look radiant,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You felt your cheeks flush at the contact, your hands instinctively coming to rest over his where they lingered on your stomach. “Aegon,” you whispered, a mix of warning and longing in your tone, though you didn’t move to pull away.

His hands shifted slightly, his thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles over your abdomen. His lips brushed against your neck, placing featherlight kisses there that sent a shiver down your spine. “Do you know what I see when I look at you?” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You closed your eyes, leaning back against him despite yourself. “What do you see?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I see my future,” he said, his tone reverent yet possessive. His fingers continued their slow movements over your stomach, his touch both comforting and electrifying. “I see you—my sister, my love—and I see our children. My blood, growing here.” His hands pressed a little firmer against your stomach, as if willing the idea to become reality.

Your breath hitched at his words, the way he spoke with such certainty and longing. “Aegon,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, but he silenced you with another kiss to your neck, this one lingering.

“They’ll be perfect,” he continued, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “Silver-haired, beautiful, and strong—true Targaryens. You’ll be heavy with my child, glowing with the life we create together.” His lips moved against your skin as he spoke, each word sending waves of heat coursing through you.

You felt your knees weaken, leaning further into his embrace as his words enveloped you. “You’re so sure of yourself,” you managed to say, though your voice was breathless, your resolve faltering under the weight of his touch.

“I am,” he replied simply, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “Because you’re mine, and I’m yours. No one else matters—not Jace, not anyone.” His hand moved to tilt your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his in the mirror. “Look at yourself,” he urged softly. “Do you see what I see? A woman who was born to rule, born to be a mother to my children.”

Your reflection stared back at you, your cheeks flushed and your lips slightly parted. The intensity in his eyes held you captive, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away.

“And what if it all falls apart?” you asked quietly, your voice tinged with both fear and hope. “What if we lose everything?”

Aegon’s expression softened, his arms tightening around you protectively. “We won’t,” he said firmly. “I won’t let that happen. I’ll protect you, always. You and our children—our legacy.”

His conviction was as intoxicating as it was dangerous, and you found yourself nodding despite the storm of emotions swirling within you. You turned slightly in his arms, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “You speak as though it’s already decided,” you murmured.l

“It is,” he said, leaning down to press his lips to yours in a slow, claiming kiss. “And when the time comes, everyone will see it too. You belong to me, and I’ll make sure the world knows it.”

As his words settled over you, a mix of dread and desire, you realized there was no turning back. Not now. Not ever.

The towering gates of the Red Keep loomed above you as you stood at the entrance, your gown fluttering lightly in the morning breeze. Your heart was a storm of emotions—anticipation, guilt, and longing all vying for dominance as you watched the royal carriage draw closer. The sound of horses’ hooves echoed through the courtyard, and you took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

As the carriage came to a halt, the door opened, and Jace was the first to emerge. The moment his feet touched the ground, his eyes locked onto yours, his face lighting up with a smile that was both warm and boyish. Without hesitation, he ran toward you, closing the distance between you in mere moments.

“My love” he exclaimed, his voice filled with relief and affection as he wrapped his arms around you. His embrace was firm, his body pressing close as though he had been away for years instead of weeks. “I missed you,” he murmured into your ear, his breath warm against your cheek.

You smiled softly, your arms draped loosely around him. “I missed you too,” you replied, your voice steady even as your heart ached with the weight of unspoken truths.

But your attention was drawn away as another figure descended from the carriage—a nursemaid, carefully cradling your son in her arms. His silver hair shimmered in the sunlight, and his bright, curious eyes darted around before they landed on you. His face broke into a wide, toothless grin, and his delighted laughter rang out, clear and joyous.

Hearing that sound, your resolve melted. You gently disentangled yourself from Jace’s embrace, murmuring a quick apology, though he didn’t seem to mind. His gaze followed yours, and he smiled softly, understanding the pull of a mother’s love.

“Gaemon,” you whispered, your voice tender as you walked toward your son.

The nursemaid carefully passed him into your arms, and the moment he was close, his tiny hands reached for your face, his laughter bubbling forth again. You held him tightly, cradling him close to your chest, his warmth and weight grounding you in this moment of chaos.

“Hello, my sweet boy,” you cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. His little fingers grasped at your hair, and his delighted giggles made your heart swell.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed the rest of the party emerging from the carriage—Rhaenyra, her regal demeanor as commanding as ever, with Luke trailing close behind her. And then there was Daemon, his sharp eyes scanning the courtyard before they landed on you. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he watched the scene unfold.

Rhaenyra approached first, her expression softening as she saw you with Gaemon. “He’s grown so much,” she remarked, her voice filled with quiet admiration. “He looks just like you.”

“And his father,” Daemon added slyly, his tone laced with something unreadable. His gaze lingered on you for a beat too long, but he said nothing more.

You swallowed hard, shifting your focus back to Gaemon to avoid meeting Daemon’s piercing eyes. “He’s growing too fast,” you said softly, rocking him gently in your arms.

Luke grinned as he stepped forward, his youthful energy shining through. “He’s going to be a strong little dragon,” he said confidently, reaching out to gently ruffle Gaemon’s hair.

Jace joined you then, placing a hand on your waist as he looked down at Gaemon with a proud smile. “He’s perfect,” he said, his voice warm with affection. “Just like his mother.”

Your heart clenched at his words, and you forced a smile, nodding in agreement. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

But as you held Gaemon, feeling his tiny heartbeat against your chest, you couldn’t shake the weight of Aegon’s parting words from earlier that morning. He’s mine, and so are you.

For now, you could only hold onto the fragile facade, knowing that the delicate threads of your secrets could unravel at any moment.

The grand halls of the Red Keep echoed with the sound of footsteps as you walked alongside Jace, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. The rest of the family trailed close behind—Rhaenyra leading with her confident stride, Luke at her side, and Daemon following a few steps behind, his sharp eyes taking in every detail of the surroundings and, more importantly, of you.

In your arms, Gaemon cooed softly, his small hands reaching up to grasp at the silver strands of your hair. You adjusted his position gently, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as you ascended the steps toward Rhaenyra’s private solar.

When you entered the room, the warm glow of the sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows cast an almost serene atmosphere. Rhaenyra gestured for everyone to make themselves comfortable, taking her seat at the head of the room. You followed suit, sinking into one of the cushioned chairs near the hearth, settling Gaemon on your lap.

The boy squirmed happily, his bright silver hair catching the light as he giggled and reached for the hem of your gown. You focused on him, your fingers idly brushing over his tiny hand, though you could feel the weight of someone’s gaze on you.

It was Daemon.

He leaned casually against the edge of a nearby table, arms crossed over his chest, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. His silence was louder than any words, and you knew that his mind was working, piecing together something he hadn’t yet voiced aloud.

Finally, he broke the quiet, his tone casual but laced with suspicion. “So,” he began, tilting his head slightly, “is your business here in King’s Landing concluded? Or is there more you need to attend to before you return to Dragonstone with Jace?”

The question hung in the air, and though his words were spoken lightly, you could feel the underlying weight of them. He wasn’t asking about errands or formalities. He was probing, seeking cracks in the carefully constructed facade you’d built.

You lifted your gaze to meet his, keeping your expression calm and composed. “Yes,” you replied smoothly, your voice steady. “My business here is done. I was only ensuring the arrangements for Gaemon’s care during our stay were handled properly.”

Daemon’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile, but his eyes didn’t waver from yours. “How diligent of you,” he remarked, his tone bordering on mockery.

Rhaenyra, sensing the tension, interjected with a light laugh. “Come now, Daemon. Must you interrogate her the moment we arrive? Let her breathe.”

Daemon chuckled softly, though his gaze remained locked on you. “I’m merely curious,” he said, his tone deceptively casual. “She’s been making quite a habit of traveling here, hasn’t she?”

Your fingers tightened slightly around Gaemon’s hand, though you forced yourself to remain outwardly composed. “As a mother, my priority is always my son,” you said calmly, stroking Gaemon’s silver hair. “I will do whatever is necessary to ensure his well-being.”

Daemon’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “Of course,” he murmured, pushing off the table and walking closer, his boots echoing softly against the stone floor. “It’s admirable, really. But one must wonder… is it only the boy’s well-being you’re concerned with? Or is there something else keeping you tethered to King’s Landing?”

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra said sharply, her tone carrying a note of warning.

You met his gaze evenly, refusing to flinch under his scrutiny. “I don’t know what you’re implying,” you said, your voice cool.

His smile turned into a smirk as he leaned closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “Oh, I think you do,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over your ear before he straightened and walked away, leaving you with the unmistakable feeling that he wouldn’t let this go.

As he returned to his place by Rhaenyra’s side, you looked down at Gaemon, whose innocent laughter was a stark contrast to the storm brewing within the room. You held him tighter, forcing a smile as Jace leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, oblivious to the undercurrents around him.

You knew it was only a matter of time before Daemon uncovered the truth. But for now, you would hold onto your calm facade, praying it would be enough to keep your secrets hidden a little longer.

Tag list : @danytar @julessworldd @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry

[darinawrites]

Kang No-eul x f!reader| finding you in the games

Pairing: Kang No-eul x f!reader

Warnings: typical violence in squid game

A/n: I will be going feral if people don't write more for her and actually know her personality. This is sadly shorter than I'd like, I promise I'll give her more content. (Also, this is a complete new writing style for me, I hope I did it justice)

Coming back home to the last bit of humanity she has, you. She would immediately feel worry with the lack of presence in the house

Her worry deepens further when she calls out your name and you still don't make your presence be known. Her mind immediately turning to the worst possible scenario

Rushing to your shared bedroom, a wave of despair washing over her when she doesn't see your figure on the bed- or anywhere for that matter

When she finally spots the reason, she wouldn't believe it at first. Seeing the same brown card she held a few minutes ago on your bed

Would definitely blame herself, you were basically a piece of her. Always comforting her at the worst times. It made her be so besotted with you, your sweet smile always helping her. And now you're gone. She wanted to protect you, it was her duty that she set for herself. Feeling so disillusioned that she failed, her expression darkening

Crunching up her somber features as she looked closer and realized you were a player. Could this get any worse?

She knew you well, well enough to know that these games aren't meant for you. You were much too kind for your own good

Her hands palpitating at the thought that she would need to put a bullet in your head

A sigh of relief would be let out when she saw you talking with one of the players trough the black mask she had on. At last she could finally see you again, alive and well (for now)

She would most definitely be a mess of emotions when she holds the sniper in her hand, watching your body flinch as the first gunshot rang out in red light green light

Would she kill you? Would she keep you alive? She only contemplated joining these deplorable games to free miserable people, people like her. If you were so sorrowful that you joined these games, would you want her to shoot?

Ultimately, she would keep you alive if it ever came to that situation, she loves you too much to let go that easily. Not again, she wouldn't. Refusing to believe that killing was the solution for you

Would have a little smile when you successfully finished a game. Proud that you're holding better than she thought

With her higher rank, she'd try and order the circle guards to give you more food in the lunchbox

"Wow, you're lucky. You got so much more food than us!"

Her rank did sadly hinder her from seeing you more often. Usually only being able to see you in the games which made it harder for her to make it known to you that it was her

She'd try her best to position herself near you at all times, feeling elated everytime she saw your soft features. In these death games, she needed to be close to you at all times, eyes dwelling on every injury she could find to see if you needed any help. If you did, a roll of bandages would be found when you sat down on your chosen cot

And if the chance to have you alone came up, she'd take it and use it to the best of her abilities. Pulling off her mask and hearing the surprised gasp of yours as she pulled you to a secluded area. Letting your arms wrap around her body, the weight of your head on her shoulders. Hands brushing your hair as she told you all the information she could, with a few comforting words spilled between them too

That physical contact reminded her of better times, giving her a taste on where you both could be right now. It would give her the motivation to get out, to feel this, to feel you again

[hemoglobinjuicebox]

I want this nerdy wizard man carnally

You stared at him, mouth agape. “You want to do what, exactly?”

Gale shut his book and set it on his nightstand. He turned, propping himself up on his elbow to look at you with those wholesome brown eyes and that cheeky little smile.

“It's just an experiment,” he said. “It's no soul-intertwining metaphysical love-making, but I believe just a touch of magic could make our time in the bedroom just a bit better. Only with your express permission, of course. Just say the word, and we'll be right back to the good old fashioned romp in an instant.”

You were still hesitant, but you decided to humor him. “What would this ‘touch of magic’ entail?”

“It could entail a multitude of things depending on how you want to use it. Mage Hand is a very variable spell.”

You let out a breath of disbelief. “Mage Hand? Is that safe, Gale?”

His face was that of a kicked pup’s. The very notion of him doing anything to hurt you made every inch of his body ache. He drew closer and wrapped you in his arms. His chin sat stop your head, his hands rubbing the curves of your hips. By instinct, you snuggled up to him, tucking your face in the warm crook of his neck.

“It's safe,” he murmured. “But I'd never want you to do anything you didn't want to do. You've been through that enough.”

The two of you lazed in your silence. His lips occasionally brushed your forehead or your temple. Your hands gently scratched his nape and his back, getting all the spots he could never reach alone. Yet, your thoughts lingered elsewhere.

Knowing Gale, if he said something was safe, it most certainly was. He’d never want to hurt you. You were his everything; he repeated it daily. He would likely do so until he drew his last breath.

A touch of magic couldn't hurt, could it?

You spoke up. “Gale?”

He let out a low hum of acknowledgment. You swallowed.

“I… I want to do it.”

He pulled back from you, his hands still resting on your hips. His eyes gleamed with excitement. In the firelight, dim just enough for you to see him and hardly anything more, you could almost mistake them for pools of gold. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and whispered:

“You won't regret it. I promise.”

You soon found yourself reclining against the headboard with your legs spread, cushioned by every pillow Gale could find. There was one for your head, one for your upper back, two for your lower back, and one to keep your hips up. Gale knelt between your knees, keeping your thighs apart with loving hands that explored everywhere they could reach.

“Do you want me to use it before or after you're prepared?” he asked.

You replied swiftly, “After. I… I want your hands first.”

“Your wish is my command. Now, shall we?”

You nodded and took a deep breath. His hand came up to cradle your flushed cheek. The other rubbed small circles around your bud, eliciting a series of lewd noises from your lips. Your thighs twitched with every touch.

“Gods,” Gale breathed. “Look at you. There's nothing more beautiful than the way you look right now. How you always look. How you looked since you first pulled me from that portal and saved my life.”

He caught your lips in a brief, sweet kiss. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

Every tender word, every stroke brought you closer and closer. You could feel it building: that special heat that filled your entire body. It made your eyes blur. Sweat glistened on your neck and chest. Your core dripped with your need for him.

You heard the ethereal wisp of magic forming. You saw the glowing blue through the misty haze of your tears. You shuddered as the two digits grazed your folds with a featherlight stroke, the Weave humming against your sensitive skin.

Then, they pushed. You let out a wanton moan as you struggled to take their girth. Gale's thumb loved on your bud as the Mage Hand's fingers curled inside you, hitting exactly where you wanted them to with every thrust. You could barely make out Gale's encouragement as the fingers ravished your core.

Your walls pulsed. Your breathing quickened to short, sharp gasps. Your hands gripped the sheets so tightly that they threatened to rip—

You threw your head back with a cry of pure ecstasy as you came on the fingers of the Mage Hand. Your soaked core fluttered and clenched, drenching the Weave in your release.

Gale leaned in and pressed a long kiss to your lips. He pulled away with a soft whisper:

“You are wonderful.”

[juniperskye]

Turn to Stone

Based on the following ask: I'd like a Hotch x reader where reader is a professional dancer please! She gives Hotch tickets to one of the performances she's participating in. Hotch invites the rest of the team and reader gets to show off with a partner dance. I picture reader and her dance partner being like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers or Ariana Debose and David Alvarez, but if you have another pair in mind that's fine too. – Okay so I used to LOVE SYTYCD and one of my favorite contemporary duets was Melanie and Marko dancing to turn to stone. Travis Wall is an incredible choreographer!!! So that is the dance I am picturing.

Aaron Hotchner x Dancer! Fem Reader

Fluff

Word count: 1324

Not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Age gap (non-specified), reader is a professional contemporary dancer, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description (she can however be lifted and participate in a contemporary dance routine), established relationship with Hotch, use of pet names let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Okay, I have your ticket at will-call, you’re gonna be there right?” You questioned nervously.

“Yes sweetheart I will be there. I have made sure consultations have been sent out and I put in a request to be off tomorrow evening. There shouldn’t be any issues.” Aaron reassured you.

“Okay! Sorry, I’m just nervous. It is a big performance, and I really want you to be there.” You rushed.

“I know, you’ve been working so hard honey, and I wouldn’t miss it.” He confirmed.

You hadn’t told Aaron that you’d actually been chosen for a partner dance with one of the guys in your company. He and you were often partnered up, even within group numbers…and that was mainly because Marko and you had incredible chemistry on stage. The two of you were able to anticipate one another’s movements without words.

You’d been rehearsing every day for weeks, the group routines and your partner routine, practicing again and again until the movements became second nature. Part of the reason you’d put so much pressure on yourself was because your partner dance would be the closing number of the entire performance.

 --

What you didn’t know was that Aaron had also been keeping a secret from you.

He’d gone ahead and invited his whole team to see your dance performance. He’d mentioned to them that it had been coming up and he expressed how proud he was and how hard you’d worked, and that led to Garcia asking if they could tag along. Who was he to say no? This was an opportunity for them to see how amazing you were.

Aaron had seen you on the stage a few times before and every time you managed to take his breath away. He was always in awe of how effortless you made your movements look and it was just incredible to see you following your dreams and expressing them so passionately. You inspired him, and he wanted to share that…to show you off to his team.

--

As the day came and went, your nerves and excitement only grew. This is how it was before every show…you’d feel a teeny tiny bit of anxiety, but your excitement would cloud it every time. You became a dancer because it was who you were, it was in your bones.

That night, Aaron made you a simple dinner of grilled chicken and steamed vegetables. He knew you wouldn’t want to eat anything heavy the night before your performance. You ate while going over the highlights of your day…both omitting the fact that you both were currently holding a secret from the other.

When you two got into bed for the evening, Aaron gently rubbed and stretched your feet and ankles assisting you in working those muscles, keeping them loose and ready for your big show.

Aaron held you close that night, feeling almost giddy about the fact that he’d get to show you off tomorrow.

--

The next morning, Aaron got up and made you tea with honey, he knew you’d be up early to head to the studio.

“Thanks baby.” You whispered.

“Of course.” Aaron kissed you. “I will see you tonight, okay? You are going to be amazing.”

“Thank you Aar. I love you so much!” You hugged him.

“I love you too. Have a good day and break a leg!” He called before heading out the door.

You sipped your tea and packed the things you’d need for the day. You grabbed the lunch that Aaron packed for you – full of healthy snacks and your water bottle – and you left for the day.

Your company did some last-minute costume fittings, and makeup trials. Then they moved into stretches and warmups before shifting into a full-blown dress rehearsal.

The program was organized as such:

Full company contemporary

Men’s jazz

Women’s partner ballet

Elite company ballroom

Women’s Jazz

Couple’s partner salsa

Full company modern

Select company acro

Couple’s partner contemporary (aka your dance)

The dress rehearsal went perfectly, your director only making a few minor changes to ensure there was plenty of time for costume changes. The choreographers pulled a few people aside to give notes and ensure everyone was ready.

Your choreographer, Travis, pulled Marko and you to a studio to have you run your duet again, he wanted to push the both of you to really feel the emotion of the music and the movements. Travis was big on connection and chemistry in his routines, he wanted people to feel the emotion conveyed through your dancing. Once he felt satisfied with your progress he let you guys rest.

--

Aaron walked up to will-call to pick up the tickets, while he was waiting he sent you a quick text.

Hey gorgeous, you are going to be amazing. You inspire me every day with your passion, and I can’t wait to see you on that stage. I love you always. A.

“Hi, I’m picking up for Aaron Hotchner, there should be two orders.”

“Yes, I see there is a single ticket and then a set of six additional tickets.” The clerk confirmed.

“That’s correct.” Aaron nodded.

Aaron took the tickets and distributed them between the members of his team. They all then made their way into the auditorium to take their seats.

--

Aaron’s text gave you an additional wave of confidence to get you through this performance. The whole company was buzzing in anticipation.

The performances passed by in a blur. One after another, running off stage to change and adjust your hair and makeup as needed. Every time you came onto the stage, Aaron would point you out to the team. They couldn’t help but smile and giggle at him…he was just so proud, and it was an infectious feeling.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you all for being here tonight. We have one final performance for you tonight. So please join me in welcoming our final two dancers this evening, performing a contemporary routine, Turn to Stone, choreographed by Travis Wall.

--

When you entered the stage, made up to look like a statue, Aaron was stunned to silence. He couldn’t believe you’d been able to keep this to yourself long enough to surprise him tonight.

The piano began, signaling Marko and you to move. The two of you were in sync, moving as one, beautifully gracing the stage. The crowd roared as you progressed through your routine, Marko lifting and catching you with ease during the lifts, as the music came to crescendo.

Aaron had tears in his eyes as he watched you move. The raw emotion you and Marko emitted with every point of your toe, twirl, lift, you two were telling a story and it was touching each person that sat in the audience before you.

As the song concluded, Marko shifted in close to you and you both froze to mimic statues. Silence filled the room briefly before the crowd erupted in applause…gifting you a standing ovation.

Marko and you took a quick bow before exiting the stage. Heading back to get some of this makeup off before greeting Aaron.

--

You ran towards Aaron, leaping into his arms, squealing in delight. You were on cloud nine, the routine had gone perfectly, and you couldn’t have been happier with the outcome.

“You were incredible. That duet, honey, I-I don’t even know what to say. You were, you just. I’m so proud of you. I love you so much.” Aaron was at a loss for words.

“I love you too! Thank you so much for being here to support me.  I didn’t want you to miss this.” You smiled.

Aaron passed you a bouquet of flowers and gestured towards the BAU team who all stood in awe, watching the exchange between you and their boss. Shock written on their faces, seemingly from his softness regarding you.

“Guys, this is my amazing girlfriend.”

Taglist: @bernelflo @pastelpinkflowerlife @just-moondust

[k0nanharv3y]

I WANT HIM TO BE MAD, I WANT HIM TO COLAPSE AND CRY HIS LUNGS OUT I WANT HIM TO SCREAM... I'm allergic to happiness :[ so then I should proceed

///

Tim knew how to be mean, rude and how to hurt people with his words, I mean, he was raised by Fucking Janet Drake. He knew what he was doing

And he was so done with Damian, and life, apparently

Damian who's being an asshole about his birth rights and how Drake would never be worth enough to have the Robin mantle: The only reason you're part of this family is because father couldn't let go you with what you know!

Tim, who already knows this fact and is running on half an hour of sleep and a liter of coffee only: Oh, really?! The only reason he took you in was because he had to, not because he loved you. We were a choice, you were just an obligation caused by a mistake

And then there was silence

Damian's face was red and there was a glimmer of tears in his eyes. Tim's chest rose and fell as if he had run a marathon

And a heavy folder fell to the floor of the cave, breaking the silence and about to break everything around it

Bruce, who's been listening to the discussion in silence, because he had no right to step into it because he's scared of feelings: Tim! You cannot say that! Apologize!

Tim, who is about to cry because he's so tired: Apologize?! What the hell Bruce!? He started this shit!

Damian stepped away from Tim, frowning, hurt and ready to start fighting if Tim decided to take more physical action against him

Bruce: He is a child!

Tim, feeling something inside him slowly burn: A child?!, That demon tried to kill me and that "child" is 15 years old, he can't not understand the consequences of his actions and his words, you can't-! You can't always defend him Bruce! He has to understand that-

Bruce, who has gotten too close to Tim, standing in front of him, using all his height to appear bigger than him: Of course I can!, He is my son

Tim: I am your son too!

And the silence came again, tears in Tim's eyes. A silent gasp from Bruce and the bats screeching from the screams they were both throwing at each other

Tim: This is unfair...

He muttered, taking steps away from Bruce, lowering his head, red with shame and tears

Tim: It's unfair that he... that you...! I'm your son too, why don't you love me like you love him?

Bruce: Tim, that's not-

Tim: Yes it is!, I understand-! I understood in the past that you weren't at your best, I understood that you didn't love me! I understood that, Bruce!, during my years as Robin I understood that! And I understand that you've changed, I understand that the Bruce that Damian has now is not the Bruce that I had, but it is...! It's unfair that you still don't defend me like you defend him! Not even as your son, but as your partner! It's unfair and-! Why can't you just-?! Why don't you love me, Bruce?!

The tears now had no qualms about falling like waterfalls, and the sobs made his voice sound younger than Tim was, younger than Bruce had ever heard

Bruce: I love you T-

Tim: It's not the same if I have to yell at you, Bruce! Damian gets pets, presents, TIME! And all I got for my birthday was trust issues and trauma, when I pulled you out of the timestream you didn't even-! You didn't even say anything to me! If you didn't love me, then you would have let me keep up with the uncle lie! At least then I'd know what I was getting from you and what you wanted from me!

Their ears registered the sounds of footsteps, the worried voices. But none of them gave a fuck

Tim: What you want from me now, Bruce?! Tell me! What you want from me?!

Bruce: I-

The words caught in the adult's throat, because, the kid in front of him (because Tim was a kid, because he could never grow up to be anything outside of what Bruce needed) looked so tired and nothing Bruce said was going to make up for years of feeling unloved and unwanted, just needed. And Bruce couldn't think of a time when he had ever made that thought questionable (Bruce had literally conditioned the kid to put others before himself)

Bruce: I'm sorry

And if Tim started to sob ugly and wet, that would be his problem. He was so tired to worry about it

///

Part 2 Jumpscare!!

///

[alexhasalotofthoughts]

Okay it's been long enough since TIT that I can share my thoughts with a clear head. I literally slept the whole of yesterday because I was so tired (thank you, London).

Seeing Dan and Phil was a really big deal for me—as I'm sure it is for most fans. I've been a fan of DnP since primary school and now I'm nearing the end of secondary school and the start of uni so this feels like a very big full circle moment.

As cringe and stereotypical as it is, DnP videos have always been there when I needed them. When I was having a bad day at school, or struggling to come to terms with my sexuality/gender, there were Dan and Phil, ready to put a smile on my face. Dan's coming out video was released the same year I started being bullied for my sexuality and seeing someone I looked up to as much as him be so honest and open really helped me to feel less alone. I rewatch that video a lot. I will always be grateful for that.

I've worn my Interactive Introverts bracelet everyday since I brought it with the DVD (my mum would not let me see them live at the time as I was "too young" lol) so Dan and Phil, in some way, have been there for every big and small moment in my life. They were technically there when I got an offer from the uni I want to go to. I literally wore a Dan and Phil shirt to my autism assessment. They were mentioned in my autism assessment report (though I am not the person who said that for the confessions part of the show, that was someone else. I am not trying to steal their thunder lol). I can't even begin to express what a big part of my life their videos have been.

As I'm sure has been mentioned many times by now, my show was filmed so I might even end up on YouTube or a DVD (PLEASE DAN AND PHIL, KEEP PHYSICAL MEDIA ALIVE) or something, though I doubt that because I was in the royal circle. Also a drunk girl hung if the balcony and heckled for most of the show. I think even ended up getting kicked out. I saw somewhere on twitter that Phil asked for her to be kicked or mentioned to staff that she was too loud but I have no idea how true that is as I was on the opposite side of the circle to her and I have never and probably will never speak to Phil to confirm this.

Other than that, though, the show was absolutely brilliant!

Genuinely! It was so funny and it was absolutely lovely being in a room of people who have the same interests as me; I literally saw a "Be More Chill" "Boyf" bag, "Heathers" tracksuit bottoms, a FNAF Bonnie keychain and a Doctor Who badge all in the space of 5 minutes of one another. My people. Someone even complimented my hat, though I find London so overwhelming that I forgot to respond properly lol (sorry hat person, you were very nice! I liked your whiskers!).

Before the show, they played "Hot To Go" by Chappell Roan, and the whole theatre sang and danced along, which was absolutely lovely!

I was laughing and cheering for about 2 hours straight, so I'd say it was money well spent, though my mum literally fell asleep during the first act so I don't know if she'd agree.

One thing I will say: seeing sister Daniel in the flesh is literally a HOLY experience—I am so... Gay? Straight? Bisexual?? I'm not sure which word go use in this situation but Daniel was hot, so who cares?

To conclude this overly long blog post no-one will read, it was fun and I feel like 12 year old me would look at me now and smile. I saw Dan and Phil live. I got an offer from the uni I wanted to study film! I write!! I have friends who care about me!! I'm not ashamed to like the things I like!! God, they would be so proud of me. And I am proud of them.

TIT pics below ;)

(That last pic was taken by my mum, hence why I look so awkward. I was happy, I swear.)

Thank you very much if you read this! I really do go on a lot but also this is my blog and I suppose that means I can go on as much as I want.

[blushingbubbles]

guide to becoming a good girl part 5: what i love about it 

(exempt from the forbidden word rules)

each morning now, i wake up with one of my three holes stuffed. 

last night a vibrator was wedged in my pussy -- a vibrator that’d been on for most of sleeping time. to make sure i didn’t accidentally pull it out or turn it off, i'd wrapped myself like a burrito in so many blankets, and i ended up sleeping like a baby. 

this morning, it was instinct rather than forethought that had me filming my pussy. on camera, i pulled the toy out, and was shocked when a puddle of wetness spilled out too. i was soooo messy. i turned the video into a gif and watched it over and over again on a loop. i imagined that, instead of it being my own wetness, that someone had pumped me full of their cum. i imagined they’d bred me and filmed it trickling out. 

that thought triggered my first edge of the day. after, i checked tumblr notifs, and a hazy conditioning memory floated back from the night before.

my holes don't belong to me anymore.

a small voice says it. almost like an afterthought...or maybe an instinct. but someone had said it to me hours prior...

had they been conditioning me that my holes don't belong to me anymore? or had they been explaining a fact? 

no.. yeah..that's right. they hadn’t conditioned my lack of autonomy. they’d only explained that i’ve never actually had any. and they're absolutely right. everything i've ever done was to make other people happy.

i've subconsciously acted on others wishes for like my entire life, and i like doing it. i am happier when im making other people happy! i like putting a smile on other people's faces!! there's nothing wrong with that, and i dont want to pretend like there is!!

i got up to make the bed, and the voice my holes don't belong to me anymore continued kinda floating around me. i spent a few minutes brushing my hair and tidying my bedroom. i checked my roommate's location. i love her (let's call her A), but i was sooooo relieved when i saw she wasn't home. i went to the kitchen, naked and dripping. the dishes in the sink belonged to A, and i washed them anyway. 

i wouldn't have done it two months ago. two months ago, i would've left her mess for her and gone about the day. but now i know when A comes home she’ll be relieved that i took care of it!!! and i love being the one to provide that relief!!

after the kitchen was clean i put a little cardigan on to take some pictures of my tits. an anon asked for the holes report, and i like 2 accompany that with a tit picture so everyone knows the most important assets made it through the night (haha)

i lovvvveee taking tit pictures. i love that they make people happy, and knowing they make people happy makes me more confident!! 

over the day i drink enough water, i take meds, i keep the house clean. a Superior suggests i put ben wa balls in my pussy -- they'll make my wet hole even tighter!!

im quickly reminded that if im tightening my pussy at someone's request… it doesn't really belong to me anymore, does it? i like.. have the hole... but it's not mine to use. it's just mine to take care of so others can use it.

tonight ill sleep cockwarming another toy at another Superior's request, and the process will start over (and over) again, and it's so so good for me. i'm so happy like this, and i wouldn't change a thing <3

[heyyoungbloods]

Buckle up, babes, because I'm about to talk about Valentino a lot.

I've been thinking about Val a lot since me and @starfallisle started writing "Go to Hell for the Company" and I have Opinions about him, because I actually ended up finding him a lot more interesting and fun to write than I expected.

First I'd like to draw attention to this post that @potionorchard wrote about Val and his emotional intelligence, because I definitely agree with it. To summarize it, Valentino is not exactly a smart guy, but he's very emotionally intelligent and knows how to play people based on their emotions and connections to him, which is likely a big factor in how he became an Overlord in the first place.

Valentino is a mean guy, but he's capable of being nice, being kind. He can give people what they want from him, if he thinks it's worth his time and effort to do so. I think a great example of the two major sides of Valentino are his relationship with Angel versus with Vox.

With Angel Dust: Val knows he doesn't have to try with Angel, because he's got him under contract. He doesn't have to put effort into Angel if he doesn't want to, so he's willing to let himself get fed up with Angel and lash out at him. He'll put on his sweeter side when it suits him, but it's not necessary. The Val that Angel knows is likely the Val most people know in the long term. But I think before he was chained down, Angel knew a whole different Valentino. A kind, sweet, maybe even loving Val.

With Vox: I think Vox is one of the few people Val doesn't see as below him, same with Velvette. They are his business partners after all. More than that, it's clear that Val and Vox have a relationship beyond business, and have had it for a while probably. With Vox, Val has to play the game a little more strategically. @potionorchard pointed this out in her post that when Val doesn't get the results of Vox's attention that he wanted, he immediately turns around and plays Vox, riling him up by mentioning Alastor and then teasing him about it. Val knew what he was doing for that whole exchange. But, outside of these kind of instances, I think it's easy to see that Val has genuine feelings of some kind for Vox. He keeps the photo of them, and the whole dance between him and Vox in the finale speaks for itself I think. Val doesn't have as tight a hold on his temper as he could (or maybe even wishes he did) but he reins it in for Vox when he knows it won't benefit him to use it, or redirects it as needed so Vox isn't the direct subject of it.

I think Valentino uses kindness and affection as a weapon. He knows emotions are powerful motivators and uses them as his primary tools for predation pre: contracts and with those he knows he can't overpower. This is a major factor behind how I choose to write Val in my RPs and fics, why I make him kind when he's trying to achieve long term results, and why he's overall nicer to Vox than anyone else in the day-to-day.

Val is mean, Val is abusive, but he has the capability of being good for the people he has genuine affection for. However, his handle on his temper isn't good enough, and he'll lash out at anyone when he gets worked up enough. I personally think Valentino has some kind of feelings for Angel, but because Angel is under contract and not his perceived equal, he doesn't make the effort to be what Angel would want him to be, the person that Vox gets more often than not. Val is selfish with Angel and puts his own needs and desires above Angel's unless he can figure out how to also benefit from them.

I think Valentino wants to love people, but he struggles with perception (ironic given his eyesight.) I think Val builds his idea of a person in his mind, and when they do something that goes against what he expects of them based on that idea, he reacts poorly. His selfishness battles against this deep down want-- a want that is often overtaken by lust and pride and is therefore easy to miss, even by him.

This post is getting pretty long so I will stop it here. tl;dr: I think Valentino is messy and complicated and I like him for that reason. Am I reading too much into him? Maybe! But he's more interesting this way, don't you think?

[galaxiasgreen]

🍺🖤This Hell We Create

Sebastian x F!Muggle!Reader with eventual smut, minor Garrinis [E-Rated, 5.6k words]

"Just... be careful." He takes your hand, bowing to kiss the fingers like delicate embers in a breeze. "Now, bar girl," he murmurs, "where's the fun in that?"

Harlow prepares to take his revenge. Sebastian has a plan to protect you.

[MASTERLIST][FIRST][PREV][LAST] [read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

TW: coarse language, blood/ injury, gendered language, explicit smut MDNI (dom!Seb, dirty talk, wall sex, porn with feelings, public sex, cunnilingus, very slight breeding kink), and one threat of sexual assault (not made by Sebastian or the bar girl). This occurs in Harlow's paragraph of dialogue shortly after he is reintroduced, which you can skip over if you'd prefer. Please take care. <3

6. worth the risk

Sebastian's urges never seem fully satiated, but you're happy to try. Minutes may pass, or hours. You indulge the time making love, passionately, raggedly, between bouts of uncontrollable laughter or breathless, all-consuming kisses. His smell becomes part of the place, part of you. Sometimes you sleep for a little while only to wake and start all over again, with hands that already know the right places to tease.

It must be three o'clock when you next stir. In the indigo bloom of darkness, Sebastian is limned by the hazy moon rays that wander through the curtain parting. Light makes his back muscles cleave sharply down his body, burnished with ink. Even obscured, he is beautiful. You pull up slightly, rousing him – he half-turns, clasping your hairbrush.

"What are you doing with that?"

He puts it down. "Thought I'd comb my hair a little."

"I like it mussed."

"Especially when you muss it?" He lets out a low chuckle. "Sleep, love."

"Only if you join me."

Sebastian doesn't care that your breath smells bad and there's crust in your eyes. He slips in beside you, enveloping you with that broad, strong warmth that draws you into his protection. It's safe here. Nothing can hurt you. He kisses your brow, and it feels like music, heart beating a slow, steady rhythm that lulls you to sleep as easy as the clouds drift lazily across the sky.

"Shall I tell you a secret?" he asks when you're next awake.

You smirk and roll into him. "Go on, then."

"You know Ominis is my best friend? His last name's not actually Gaunt." His eyes twinkle. "It's Weasley."

"That's your secret? That he's married to Garreth's sister?" you scoff. "Bit odd for a man to take his wife's surname, but hardly worth hiding, is it?"

"He's not married to Garreth's sister."

"Oh? He's adopted?"

"Wrong again. Ominis and Garreth, they're..."

"... Work partners."

"No... it's just the two of them living together, so they're..."

"Best friends? And without you. Must be a blow to your ego."

"God, bar girl." He laughs. "They're fucking."

You jerk backwards. "What?"

"More precisely they're married, but I guess that also means they're fucking."

You don't know how to react. "Two men, married?"

"That's a better secret, isn't it?" He winks. "Keep an open mind."

You're not really sure what to do with this information, but the pieces rearrange in your head. That explains their relationship a little better, not of boss and underling, but of lovers hiding beneath a veil of secrets. At least you can relate to that.

"Should I be worried they'll try to poach you from me?"

"Ominis would rather eat rocks," Sebastian says, laughing. "Garreth... wouldn't surprise me if he tried. I'm very desirable, after all."

You snort. "Tell me something about you, then. Something no one else knows."

"Now that's a tougher order." His hands settle in your hair and he plays with it gently, sending sparks down your scalp. "How mysterious do you think I am?"

"If you could bury your secrets at the bottom of the ocean, you would."

"Touché." He draws his fingers up, massaging your head. "All right, I will confess something... I bite my nails."

"That's why they look so bad."

"And I have a terrible addiction to looking at myself in the mirror."

"Sebastian."

"It's painful to be this handsome, bar girl."

"You're certainly a pain." You drag your fingers down his chest, letting each bristle of hair be the spark that keeps you alight. "I'm serious. Or do you really think you're an open book?"

"Not at all." His voice comes out gravelled but meek. "Are my secrets worth knowing?"

"You are worth knowing. Every piece of you."

You snuggle into him to emphasise this truth. I am safe, the motion says. I will guard your heart as you have guarded mine. After a moment, he slowly traces each vertebrae of your spine, one by one by one like a bead of liquid silver trickling down a stairwell. On a cold winter's night, it couldn't be any more comforting a touch. Perfect.

"I regret what I did for the wrong reason."

By the small of your back, he pauses and meets your eye, waiting, urging for a sign to continue. This path is fretful and dangerous, another way it could upend your perception of him. But very little could, and you place a kiss on his chin in solidarity.

"It's the worst part of me." He continues it quietly, like distant rain. "Every day in prison I thought about my uncle. How would I do it differently? How could I help my sister without dooming us all? The truth is... that fifteen year old boy didn't know any better. He didn't have a support network. He didn't feel like he could trust the teachers. His best friends were against his ideas from the start. You know that feeling that makes your entire body recoil? When your disgust is so resonant you feel it in your bones, and you'll do mental somersaults to think of anything else? I thought it was remorse.

"But I realised after confronting it... I didn't regret his death. I regretted what it did to my soul. I regretted the decisions that led me to her death, and drinking. I regretted hurting her and my friends."

"You regret getting caught."

"Yes." He's barely audible now. "It took a long time for Anne to come to terms with not only what I did, but why. I killed him for her."

You cup his cheek, steadying the demons that manifest like embers in ash.

"And look how far you've come since then. You got through prison. You're getting better. You've made new, lasting connections. She's looking down on you with a smile."

Instead he smirks. "Hope not. That means she's seen my dick." But there's sadness there, and worry and hesitation and pleading and all the things that remind you of the man behind the façade. "I felt relief, not regret, that he was dead. That I gave her a chance to live. Does that... am I a selfish monster?"

You wrap your arms around him.

"Selfish, yes, but that doesn't make you a monster, Sebastian," you say, listening to his heartbeat with ease. "That makes you human."

By sunrise he hasn't thought of a plan, but when his cock thrusts into you, and your face thrusts into the pillow, you can't bring yourself to worry. He empties over your bed several times and takes measures to make sure you're equally pleasured too, that by the time you clean yourselves up for the morning you're already tired.

You make it in time to intercept your mother from tottering right over the bannister.

"It's all right," you say to him, when you eventually coax her to the armchair. "If you need to be somewhere else—"

"No," he says, with that half-smile that is yours. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

A natural charmer and entertainer, he helps clean, feed and move your parents to the sun room. By some miracle they actually recognise him too, the man who vanishes in the fireplace – you want to ask more about that but suspect Sebastian will give answers so cryptic they couldn't solve a fiendish crossword – and with his help you finish the morning's work in half the time. Ada arrives to watch them and says nothing of Sebastian's presence, agreeing without words to keep one more secret sealed on her lips.

The pub opens for the breakfast rush without any issue out of the ordinary. You swab countertops. Serve customers. Take coin in your pocket and snags on the chin. Sebastian remains through it all, the fallen guardian angel ever present and watchful, and though he resists as long as he can, it's not even twelve before he's halfway into a stout, foam coating his lips in a golden froth. You're tempted to lick it off.

The day is almost perfectly normal. Almost.

Because there is one thought that keeps you twitchy and addled. One thing that makes your hair stand on end, hyper-vigilant of every noise and new face. Harlow's retaliation may not be immediate. It may not even be next week. But he will come – and you have no idea when.

So each night, Sebastian stays to protect you.

It becomes as easy as breathing to fall asleep in his arms, sometimes after riotous love-making or kisses that leave you breathless, sometimes after enjoying one another's company in the small ways, words as loud as ghosts and touches as searing as the moon in the cloudless sky. You refuse to relax at the start, and try to remember what could happen the moment you let your guard down, but with Sebastian lulling you to sleep with a story, a crooked grin or the simple safety of his embrace, the promise is a difficult one to keep.

It was only a week ago, but Harlow becomes as distant a memory as a decade.

And that comfort is dangerous.

You're in the beer cellar below, hunting for the rye whisky, when Sebastian wanders down to find you. Without the peek of natural sunlight you could fool yourself into thinking it's night, the thicket of kegs set gently aglow by gas lamps on the wall.

"Thought you might want my help." His brow dances. "Or my muscle. Whichever suits."

"I'm just debating whether it's worth bringing up another rye. We're low and Old Dodder could neck it solo." You turn to him fully. "You haven't heard anything?"

"No."

"It's been a week. No one's heard from him even once?" You tap your nails on the keg's rim. "Why? What's he doing?"

"How'd you know there hasn't been hundreds of attacks I've valiantly fought off?" You fix him a look, which only broadens his smile. "We're keeping an eye out, I promise. Don't stress."

"In this line of work that's impossible. There's about ten different things I have to manage, and that's without a criminal gang out for my head."

His smile turns a little smug, and he prowls closer, a distinctive glimmer in his eye. "Then let me help?"

"Oh yeah? Sebastian Sallow, bar boy? I'd fancy watching you hold a tray of beers without spilling a drop. Or taking a cheeky sip."

"I was thinking more the stress, love."

He tucks you between a cluster of kegs and himself. Much taller and broader, Sebastian's scent overwhelms all others, richly dark musk, leather, sweat, oak, stout. His thumbs find the small of your waist, pressing you inwards, trapping you.

"What did you have in mind?" you ask demurely.

His kiss captures you mid-breath, and you sink into him, taken by his strength and dominance. You've kissed him tens, hundreds of times now, and it never feels any less euphoric. He tastes of malt and gold, caramel and power, and with his lips meandering across your cheeks and down your jaw, then enthusiastically across your throat with enough bite to sting pleasantly, it's hard not to demand he fuck you then and there.

"Sebastian—"

"Sssshhh." He caresses your lips. "No more stress."

The kisses set fire to your core as he trails down the front of your apron, down to your tapered waist and the volume of your skirts until he's on his knees before you. Anticipation makes your sex throb, and when his hands slip under the layers, drawing it above his head, you let out a little bleat of surprise.

"T-This is a cellar!"

"Then you'd better keep quiet, love."

Without warning he buries his face between your legs, and you're embarrassed, secretly pleased, to realise how wet the bloomers cling to you with excitement. He tugs on the string holding them in place to reach your entrance, swollen after a pathetically minimal amount of stimulation. Sebastian just has that way – a few words, a touch, a smile, and you unravel. His nose caresses your clit, and you let out a gasp.

"You smell delicious," he murmurs into the folds, flowering open at the vibration. "Spread yourself for me."

A wet, warm tongue slides across you, and you grab the keg to anchor yourself, so turned on you widen your stance and roll your hips forward to give him better access. He chuckles, another vibration, and continues to lick the ache, slow, leisurely, each lap so discreet in reality but loud and slick to you.

"Wider," he demands softly. "Let me taste more of you."

Propriety crumbling, you inch your legs outwards, allowing Sebastian easier access.

"T-This is too risky—"

The trap door flies open, filling the cellar with sunlight. You yank your arms to your sides at once. Sebastian freezes, tongue suspended on your clit – but not retreating.

"There you are!" Bonny heads down a few steps – she tilts her head. "What you doin' in there, miss?"

Thank God there's a bunch of barrels in the way. "S-Stock count."

"Cook did that this morning?"

Shit. "I know, I'm just—"

His tongue grazes deeper over your entrance. You almost moan. Bastard. Instead, you physically wrench your facial muscles back into place.

"Bein' thorough?" offers Bonny.

Another lash of his tongue, this time playing with the rim.

"Very," he whispers.

You knee him gently but he just licks again. Fuck. It's harder and harder to look calm, harder to control the urge to sink your fingers into the curls and ride his fucking face.

"T-Thorough, yes," you manage. "I'll be out in a min."

She makes to step forwards. "Want any help?"

"No! I mean, no, thank you." You can't focus. Bonny's there but in your mind's eye you can only see Sebastian between your legs, working you to climax. "Promise I won't be long."

His pace quickens, sliding back forth back forth. You nudge him again, which only makes his tongue more eager. The world teeters.

"Aw'right, well," says Bonny, "I'll tell the bloke with the walking stick to wait at the bar then? He's looking for your man but I can't seem to find him."

Sebastian coils his arms around your thighs, adjusting the position as his tongue slips easily inside you.

"Yes!" you cry, then cough. "Yes, that would— be— great."

Bonny makes a face but shrugs and swings the door shut behind her, leaving you in dusky silence again.

"You arsehole—"

He doesn't let you finish, using his whole mouth now to stimulate your clit and entrance in tandem. Burying in and out, across and up, kissing and sucking. Your head cranes backwards, your hands fist your skirt to channel the frustration, the desire. Fuck, it feels amazing. A guttural moan escapes your mouth but doesn't even sound like your own, so lost in the thrill – and when Sebastian licks and licks and licks without stopping, you're quickly arcing your back and bucking against his mouth until the release comes swift and fast, pulsing sloppily over his face.

It takes a few seconds to regain some measure of poise. Sebastian drops the skirt and reveals himself grinning widely and sticky with cum.

"You're incorrigible."

"And you're welcome."

"We could've been caught."

He thumbs his face and licks it off, without taking his eyes off you. "You enjoy the risk."

"I'm at risk of being caught and destroying my reputation. You're hiding under my skirts."

He stands and slips your chin into his grasp, tilting it up to ghost his lips.

"Careful, love. I might like to show you how brazen I can be."

One step closer pins you between the wall and him. His breath susurrates as he dips down to your ear.

"I'd fuck you on that counter if you'd let me."

The image of you sprawled out for all to see, naked and begging and at the mercy of his pleasure, sends heat up unspooling through your core again, and a coy glance downwards shows that same desire reflected in his physical form.

"Ominis is waiting for you."

"Hm." He grasps your arse tightly and hoists you to the wall, pressing his bulge between your legs. "Let him wait."

With two firm tugs you undo his breeches, and Sebastian claims your mouth, tongue still salty and sweet with your juices. He roughly grinds forwards, pulsing a new wave of pleasure down your navel, satisfying of the feel of his hard, eager cock. One stroke elicits a mid-kiss groan down your throat, and when you reach to grasp him, please him, the wetness that quickly blooms from the head drives your wants mad.

The nights are tender and loving, but today, with the pub hall only upstairs, Sebastian buries the tip, then the entirety of him, inside you in a quick, flush motion. You feel full yet famished still. Legs curled around him and arms steady, you become a vessel for his pleasure as he ruts into you so hard the floorboards groan. Someone could hear you – you're sure of it. If Bonny or anyone had another question or thought to check on their boss, they would get treated to a sight of Sebastian's cock between your legs, yet you take each thrust willingly and frantically, rocking to his rhythm in desperation to find a new release. He's right, you enjoy the risk. You enjoy him. Clinging to his back, you relish his hard muscles bearing your weight, and dig your nails into his shirt and flesh beneath.

He peels free as he adjusts position, gripping your thighs like vice, and his mouth finds the swell between your neck and collarbone. The sensations tip you closer and closer. Your body doesn't just want to orgasm, it needs to. You have to let go. A rasping moan bleats from your lips, broken by ragged pants.

"Keep quiet, love," he commands. "Only I get to hear you cum."

Your spine hits the wall with each thrust. The fire builds until its pleading, beseeching for release, and with one final desperate movement you clench around his cock and freely orgasm, biting your lip to curb the scream that surges up your throat. Divine pleasure wracks every bone.

"S-Sebastian..."

His name blurted like that makes his grip tighten. He pants raggedly, pumps with no rhythm, eyes fluttering upwards and nails biting, and when he finally pulls out to twist away before his release spurts, his face contorts with pleasure, almost pain, that he can't cum inside you, leave you dripping and marked as his as you work.

Knees too week to stand, you slump to the floor, spent.

"You really... are incorrigible..."

He lets out a low chuckle and runs a hand through his sweaty curls.

"But you love it."

You do.

He leans over and slips a hand around your waist, pulling you up to his chest. For a long moment, as your hearts climb down from the high together, neither of you say anything. Despite his past, his secrets, his vices, Sebastian has become the one place where you can truly be yourself. There are no worries or impossible expectations, no societal burdens, no weight nor responsibility. No stress. He is the safety net, the impenetrable monument, the sun that whispers to the sprout to thrive, and if Heaven exists, it's this beautiful connection, the golden threads that bind you together with something far greater than love.

Adventure, freedom, the new and unexpected but never unwelcome. Sebastian is all those things and more.

"I don't want to see what the brute wants," he murmurs. "I'd rather stay here with you forever."

Your focus tugs back to those brilliant coffee eyes.

"Just for now will be enough."

To divert suspicions, you go back to the main hall first.

Tidying yourself up is harder than it sounds, with the flush of sex fresh on your face. With a final kiss, Sebastian promises to clean up as you head up out the stock room and into the hall. Ominis is distinctive immediately by his unfittingly taut posture, state of overdress and cane slotted tightly into his palm, but he lifts his chin as you approach, like he can scent you coming.

Hopefully not. He might mistake you for his friend.

"Good afternoon, madam," he greets cordially, setting his teacup down. "Sebastian is close by, I presume."

Sebastian saunters out next, and it seems to take all his willpower not to touch you. His easy smile capsizes from post-coital bliss to pre-disaster despair.

"Please tell me you're here to buy me a drink and nothing else?"

"I have news," he says. "On Harlow."

"Then out with it," you demand. "What do you know?"

"It's best I discuss the matter with Sebastian privately."

"Why? They're going to come here, ain't they?"

He makes to retort, but Sebastian cuts in. "She's right, Ominis. Let's both hear it."

Ominis purses his lips in hesitation, but stands. "Very well. I have... informants who have received word that he intends to strike the premises with a dozen of his men tonight."

Your heart leaps into your throat. "What? Tonight? Then why are you here? Go stop him!"

Ominis is unrelentingly stoic. "Intent is not a crime, and unfortunately Harlow has a large enough following that means we must catch him in the act to arrest him. Any premature move could give away the element of surprise. He underestimated you last time, so I imagine he will bring full..." he rolls his lips, "firepower tonight."

"I have a plan, don't worry," Sebastian adds at your horror. "Been cooking it some time."

"And you didn't think to share it with me?" you snap.

"It's no longer safe for you here," Ominis says coolly. "You'll need to make accommodations elsewhere for the time being."

"And what about my pub?"

"Let us handle it."

"I'm hearing a lot of don't worry about it and not enough telling me what you plan to do."

"That's all I can share. Sebastian," he says abruptly, "we'll discuss more later, once I have logistics in place."

He glides away like he hasn't just upended your entire world. It's one thing to target you, another entirely to target this place. You live here, work here, grew up here, met Sebastian here. It can't all end in ruin.

"Just for tonight, lay low at my place." Sebastian fishes in his pocket and places a warm metal key into your palms. "Garreth will be more than happy to watch your parents, he has a spare room, he's very discreet and he adores old people."

You don't even have the brain power to fathom how Sebastian could organise that in one afternoon. "I won't cower."

"Not cowering. All you have to do—"

"No." You thrust the key back into his hand. "This time you tell me what's going on. It's not a pig-headed customer or a carriage to the seaside, Sebastian. This place is my life."

"I know, and I would never do anything to jeopardise it."

"So why can't you tell me your plan?"

"Because I don't want you to worry about me, more than you already will." He steps closer, gets quieter. "Everything will work out, but for that to happen, I need to know you're safe and far away. I can't... I can't risk you getting hurt. I can't work to protect this place knowing you're in danger."

"You're on leave," you whisper. "I don't want you getting hurt."

"I won't." He puts the key back and cups your hands over it. "I know it's hard for you, but—"

"Trust you?"

"Now you're getting it." His hands slip away – you miss the warmth keenly. "It'll be over by morning, I promise."

This side of him, confident and self-assured and doubtless everything will be okay, draws you in like seduction. This isn't the first time you've put your faith in his hands, but now it kindles a feeling of helplessness in your belly. He's never let you down before and has no reason to now – but still, you can't help feel pushed over your limit.

There's more at stake this time. Your life and your parents' lives are more important, yes, but it feels... wrong, to abandon your home when it needs you most.

"All right," you back down, uneasy but left without options. "Just... be careful."

He takes your hand, bowing to kiss the fingers like delicate embers in a breeze.

"Now, bar girl," he murmurs, "where's the fun in that?"

The door opens before the third swing of the knocker.

"Brilliant timing!" Garreth greets, ushering you inside. "Just tucked your parents into bed!"

It took a forty minute walk to reach the Weasley townhouse on the west side of the city. You've forgone wondering the hows and whys of Sebastian's machinations, so it doesn't surprise you to find your parents in the spare bedroom, sitting up and nattering about green flames. The place is surprisingly plain, with a sparse number of portrait photographs on an empty oak shelf, a navy armchair that clashes with red wallpaper and a cuckoo clock, except instead of chiming on the hour, it chimes at seven minutes past.

"Cup of tea?" asks Garreth. "It'll be good for the nerves, and not to brag, but I'm very good at hand-brewing."

"No, thank you. Is Mr Gaunt here?"

"Why would he be here?" he blurts. "He doesn't live here, or anything. He's just my colleague. At work. Working. Yeah. He and Sebastian are already on the case."

You stew on it as you ensure your parents are settled and comfortable. It's already past nine and the pub closed early, and if Ominis' intel is correct, Harlow's gang will be storming the place in a few hours. He wouldn't hesitate to deliver a killing blow; Sebastian would, despite his blood-stained past. What if, in granting mercy, he gets badly hurt or killed?

"What about Kath?" you ask, and Garreth stiffens. "Does she know?"

"Errrrr." He laughs nervously. "Don't be mad..."

"What, Garreth?"

"They're not exactly doing this... by the book..." He holds up his hands. "They won't be able to stop Harlow any other way. And trust me, even when Seb's off his tits he's too competent to let shit go awry."

"So it's just him and Ominis? Against Harlow's entire gang?" You glare at him. "What exactly is this plan?"

Garreth goes a little pale. "They're going to use bait to lure him into a trap they've set. That's all."

"Bait?" you snap. "What bait?"

"It'll be fine, I promise! Over by one, Seb told me. He's that confident."

Time seems to distend. Sebastian was right – you are worrying, so much it gnaws your insides. They're outnumbered and outmanned and assuming Harlow will be idiot enough to fall into whatever this trap is they've set, presumably at your pub's expense.

"Where's that handsome, tattooed young man, hmm?"

You spin to your father, wrenched from the conversation. "What?"

"Oh, if I were fifty years younger, sweetheart," your mother chimes, relaxing next to him, "I'd be all over him!"

You don't know whether to laugh or cry. Of course they remember him, out of everyone they've ever met. "He's busy right now."

"Not without another woman, I hope?"

"No, Mama."

"What a lucky chap he is to have you at his side. Not everyone gets that, you know." Your mother turns to face your father with a smile. "The adventures we had... they were always worth the risk."

Adventure, and freedom, and the new and unexpected but never unwelcome... a painful ache goes through you. Wasn't that something you learnt when you were with Sebastian? Living, rather than surviving? Taking the risk rather than hiding away?

Downstairs, you grab your things as Garreth opens the front door.

"You can stay, if you want," he says, leaning against the doorway. "It'll be a tight squeeze, but I can whip up a bed for you in the living room."

Sleep will be hard enough at Sebastian's place. "Thanks, but I'll be all right. You'll call if there's any issues?"

"Don't worry, I'm used to entertaining old people. If they can't sleep I can show them some magic! Er, by that I mean coin tricks and pulling my thumb off, of course." He laughs awkwardly. "Keep out of trouble tonight?"

You don't make that promise.

It's lonely in Sebastian's place without him.

To busy yourself, you tidy. Charming as the owner is, he's a terrible mess, and his attempts to clean since you were last here only mean the floor is free of empty bottles. You scrub the kitchen countertop, hoping each stain that peels away will relieve the anxiety storming through your gut.

It doesn't.

Even when you wash and dress and climb into his bed, breathing his familiar scent, your feet feel like they're filled with lightning, charged and restless and twitchy and taut. The clock ticks on Sebastian's wall. The pendulum swings. It passes midnight, then one, and you hear no sign, nothing that relieves you of this nightmarish cycle of waiting, hoping, praying, pleading.

Wait. Hope. Pray. Plead.

The later it gets, the worse your thoughts become. Harlow's grin. The place is flames. Sebastian struck down. Sebastian unmoving...

Everything you love is there. The building, the memories... him. If things go wrong, not only will you lose the place, but the person, too. He said to trust him – and you do, so much your soul aches at the thought of lying here, doing nothing, while he risks his life for you.

Maybe it's time to risk your life for him. Just this once. Just for love.

Without another breath, you're out of bed, dressing and snatching your coat and shoving your feet into boots. Fuck it. The most harm you can do is swing a punch with whatever muscle you've developed moving furniture and pouring beer, but if Sebastian's in trouble and there's any way you can help, even if it means acting as bait yourself, you'll seize it.

Outside, it doesn't take long to grasp your bearings, as the river cuts seamlessly through the city centre, but it's a bit of a walk, and the dark is no place for a lone woman. You keep to brightly lit areas and skirt strangers in wide arcs, channelling that fear into a determined pace.

When you near Ye Olde Hen House, a sharpness tickles the air.

It's not strong at first, but as you get closer the smell thickens and dries your tongue. Smoke. It tastes like Guy Fawkes' Night, fireworks and bonfires and effigies charred to cinders. You jog, then sprint, the last two streets until you can see the plume rising from the source.

In another life, the sight would be biblically divine. Devour the old to make way for the new. Sometimes you wished it, when the pipes burst or the carpet wore away or the damp crept through a leak in the ceiling, but watching the old building now, with its windows shattered and the great orange tongues churning through the wood like claws through flesh and bone, shoots an intense pang of grief up your chest. The place may be old, tired and decrepit, but it's yours.

This is dangerous. You shouldn't go further. But the thought of Sebastian burning within compels you to race forwards, faster than your limbs have ever taken you before. There's nothing you can do to save the place now, but if he dies as you stand here and watch, there wouldn't be a lifetime long enough to atone.

"Sebastian!" you screech. "Sebastian!"

Just as you come upon the entrance, the flames recede. You skid to a halt. Someone is inside. Him? Or Harlow? You hit the great double-door, expecting resistance – but the wood is soggy and you burst into the main hall, still aflame and wrecked so completely it's almost unrecognisable.

Harlow has his back to you, and the grief doesn't have time to bloom.

His clothes are singed, he's leaning heavily to one side and thick blood weeps from numerous injuries, including an enormous gash down the length of his back. Trembling and red with rage, he stands opposite a figure too obscured by both cloak and smoke to make out clearly.

"And after you're dead, I'll come for your whore. Tie her up, make her scream. Maybe find out what you find so sweet about her Muggle cunt." He bellows a hysterical laugh and raises something wooden in his hand. "Save a seat in hell for me."

No. You seize the first thing you can find: the cast-iron pan hanging on the rack. The handle makes your skin sizzle, but you clamp down on the agony – and jab the curve right into Harlow's exposed wound.

The screech he lets out could curdle blood, and he drops to his knees. You reel back. He only just turns around – eyes going wide – before you whack it against his head, and his body thumps to the ground, unconscious. Maybe dead. You drop the pan, palms red and raw and quivering with pain, and look over.

The figure steps back – but it's not Sebastian.

You snatch the details between the smoke. Familiarly curved, with fingers that sing of hardship, hair escaping its loose bundle and shoulders like the physical weight of responsibility has sheared them down to a perpetual slant, it's a body you know both intimately and don't understand, and love or despise depending on moods as errant as the wind. The person darts across the floor to the stock room for the back entrance, flicking the barest second of attention your way.

With eyes matching your own.

It's impossible. Impossible. How could someone wear every flaw on your skin, every follicle and pore, every old scar and callous like a garment to be discarded when they saw fit? The lookalike scampers away, and your feet jerk you forwards in chase, through the ruined doorway to the back alley.

You have to know. You have to.

"Wait!" you choke out. "Who are—?"

But when you turn the corner, the doppelgänger is gone.

Please like, share or reblog if you enjoyed <3

[MASTERLIST][FIRST][PREV][LAST to come soon <3]

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[Divider credit]

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

Moodboard tag game

I was tagged by: @rdng1230, @nine-one-wanton, @racerchix21, @sunnywithachanceofbi, @bangpop91,

and @typicalopposite!

rules: Either: choose one of your published fics (or a WIP if you'd prefer), create a moodboard for it and share it along with a snippet. Or: Create a moodboard for your fave episode of the show, fave character, or a fic someone else has written that you love, and share it with some sentences about why it's a fave! (and tag people!)

Please clap for my first ever mood board 🤣

I decided to go with Just Trying to Keep Up just so I'd have the excuse to post one of my favourite scenes I've ever written:

He was the happiest he’d ever been and Evan wasn’t shy about sharing his feelings so Tommy was fairly certain it was the same for him. So certain that he was ready to let loose the three words that had been beating away in his chest for weeks now.

Words that were ridiculously soon to say, but Tommy couldn’t help it. He had to let Evan know exactly how much he meant to him.

But he had to do it right.

It might be wild and too soon and all of the other arguments he’d been through with himself, but the one thing he was going to make damn sure of was that it was going to be romantic.

Tommy plotted and planned and reined himself in until he had the perfect evening in place.

The two of them went grocery shopping together that day—Evan hanging onto his back like an octopus as he read the list over his shoulder, knowing what was already in Tommy’s kitchen off the top of his head—and Tommy thought, ‘I love you.’

They drove back to Tommy’s place while Evan sang along to Carly Rae Jepsen, horribly off-key, throwing the pretend mic Tommy’s way at every stoplight—and Tommy thought, ‘I love you.’

He and Evan were cooking together, taste-testing the sauce, laughing, and Tommy felt the words hammering at his heart, trying to come out. He broke away from a tomato-flavoured kiss, staring at Evan, thinking ‘I love you’—at the same time those three little words echoed through the cozy quiet of the kitchen.

Tommy blinked. “Did I just say that out loud?”

Evan, who had been staring at him wide-eyed, melted into a slow, sweet smile. “No,” he said, wrapping his arms around Tommy’s waist. “I did.” He pulled him closer. “Why? Were you thinking it?”

“All the time,” Tommy said, nodding dumbly.

[Read the whole fic on ao3]

No pressure tags for: @30somethingautisticteacher, @judymarch15, @exhaustedpirate, @beanarie, @xtarmanderx and anyone else who wants to play! If you join in, please feel free to tag me!

[aniesvision]

𐂃 𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝑴.𝑺

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒕𝒐𝒙𝒊𝒄 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑, 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒅𝒌

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒎 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚, 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆!!

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈

I wonder if he's busy or doesn't want to talk to me. It's been a week with little communication between me and Matt, ever since our last argument he made no effort to be present. Something so stupid, like forgetting to bring him the soda he asked for, and now we barely talk, even though we're dating.

I try to call him again, my hand shaky as I hold my phone against my ear.

-Hey! -I say, excited when I realized he picked up this time. -I was wondering if I could pass by your place later? I miss you.

I hear him sigh on the other side of the line and my heart immediately breaks, knowing it wasn't a good sign.

-Not today, I'm tired and I'm still upset with you, I need more time.

Oh. Of course, he needs time, that's totally fine...

He hangs up without even giving me a chance to talk. I sit on my bed, remembering the times we were so in love and happy with each other, talking for hours straight. When he used to text me to say how much he missed seeing me and we'd hang out the next day.

I keep crying oceans for him, and he keeps giving me reasons to believe I deserve to drown in my own tears.

"Good morning :)

I think you're busy these days since you're ignoring me, I don't know if you need more space, but can you please just let me know?"

I'm sure love's not supposed to feel like this. You don't own anyone's love if you have to beg for it. It's not fair to keep waiting for someone while he's out there probably not giving a fuck. I'm here worried, upset, feeling like shit, and he can't even text me. For days.

I can't help but think of all the signs and the amount of times he's let me down, how dumb I was to let him in. He broke my heart once before, and now he's doing it all over again and even knowing that he'll do the same I can't let him go.

Driving to his place unannounced was probably the worst mistake I've ever made, but I needed answers and if he refused to talk to me through the phone I'd make him talk to me in person. I knock on the door, his tired eyes staring at my swollen ones for the first time in two weeks.

-Are you okay? -I ask, noticing how his features didn't look as carefree and peaceful as they used to.

-I'm fine. -He says, tone firm and arrogant.

It was clear he didn't expect me to be there, and he didn't like it. I tried to talk to him, asked so many questions, followed him around like a lost puppy, cried, and begged for anything, for him to share any thoughts or feelings.

His scent filled my nostrils, giving me a weird sense of familiarity, his sad eyes looking at mine, but it felt like I was staring at a cold wall.

He hugged me, without saying anything, and my shoulders dropped, my heart melting at the slight show of affection. I take deep breaths, letting my eyes close as I try to regain my posture.

Is it insane? Letting him in again when he gives me so little? Letting him break me whenever he wants?

It must be nice to have someone like this, who loves another so much that let them break their hearts twice.

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