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girlsworldillusion · 2 months ago

Text

When pretending doesn't matter anymore

Alpha!Aemond - Omega!Reader

Summary: An unexpected heat. An unclaimed Omega. An Alpha fighting for control. An intense combination of events that change your life completely.

Rated: Explicit (+18)

Ella's Notes: This story, as the summary says, explores a bit of the A/B/O dynamic. Which, of course, touches on subjects like heats and ruts, secondary designations, bonding bites, knots and the like. I tried to approach it in a simpler way, because I understand that this universe is very complex and goes beyond such things. Anyway, if this is something that sparks your interest, enjoy!! It was a challenge in some parts, but I'm pleased with the result. I hope you like it too.

(I left out a good portion of the dance events excluded in this story, since the goal was to focus on the Alpha and Omega dynamic. So it's very subjective whether there's a dance about to happen or not, and I'll leave that to your imagination.)

Happy reading!

Word count: 11k

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you may find.

You couldn’t remember ever feeling so immensely uncomfortable as you did now.

“No, no, no…This can’t be happening now.”

You felt heated and heavy in your body, as if you had been soaking in a steaming bath for too long. As if you had been lying too close to the scalding breath of your dragon’s flames. Your fever was getting worse. Your steps were starting to stagger slightly, sweat dripping down your forehead as you let yourself lean against the stone wall of the hallway for a moment.

There was no doubt what was happening, you had been in enough heat over the years to know when you were sinking into one. The thing was, you weren’t supposed to be in one, not for at least another whole month. In fact, up until a few minutes ago you had been stuck at a normal dinner with your family, listening to Aegon’s disgusting and disrespectful jokes and trying to calm the silent tension between Lucerys and Aemond. Nothing was different there. Everything was going as dull and tedious as ever.

That is, until Aemond reached out to grab a piece of bread from your side. And that simple, seemingly harmless gesture was the catalyst for everything that was deeply held inside you. The movement brought his side closer to yours, almost unnecessarily closer you would say, and you were about to voice that thought out loud to him when it hit you.

The scent.

You couldn’t say what was different, what made you so intimately aware of that smell, since you had been around the man since you were children. Maybe it was the unprecedented fact that you were sitting next to each other at the dinner table after the deliberate distance you had forced upon yourself and him over the past few years. Maybe he was about to come into a rut of his own and hadn’t even noticed yet. Or maybe Aemond had been drinking some tea or some herbal substance to suppress the worst of his own smell all this time and for the first time he was free of it...

The thing was, with that simple movement of picking up a damn piece of bread from the table, he had shoved into your nostrils a whiff of the most delicious scent you had ever smelled in your life.

Dragon scales, the burning flames of a fire, open parchments and green apples. The memory of childhood, of an old feeling. Familiar and comforting, soothing your inner omega, making you want to delve deeper into the scent and wrap yourself around him. But it also aroused you. His scent was undeniably masculine and Alpha, with a dangerous and dominating richness that made you want to submit - right there, at the dinner table, in front of the whole family.

The whole thing mixed together in a spiral of aromas that flowed straight into your lungs, pulling an absolutely embarrassing and undignified meow from your lips before you could even realize it. Judging by the annoying chatter that continued at the table, no one had noticed that sound, thankfully. No one except Aemond - who was right there next to you, unfortunately. He stared at your tense profile with a sharp gaze, his hand extended for the bread, but frozen in the air before he could reach it, not even disguising that his focus was now elsewhere.

Even staring fixedly at a bowl of sauce on the table as if it were the only thing in the world that mattered, you could clearly notice when he was about to say something and, at the same time as he parted his lips with a sigh, a strong and sudden tightening in your lower abdomen was present, the space between your legs contracting and relaxing to emit a pool of absolutely unexpected moisture on the delicate fabric of your underwear.

Your body's reaction horrified you so much that you immediately pushed your chair back, the loud creak of the wooden legs on the stone floor drawing the attention of the others at the table. You could only quickly mumble that you weren't feeling well, that you were going to get some sleep and asking please for no one to worry, before practically running out of the place, barely hearing your mother say that she would send someone to check on you later.

Which brings you to the present moment.

Emotions were already starting to get the better of you. The intensity of the sensations leaving you on the verge of tears, the sheer desperation born of falling into a heat without being in the least bit prepared for it making your fingers tremble.

Usually there would be a prelude, signs that would serve as a warning of the approaching heat, giving you time to properly prepare yourself for the intense days ahead. But this time you seemed to have skipped all the stages straight to the peak of the sensations, without warning and without preparation.

All you could do was force your staggering body through the hallways to your bedchamber, knowing there was no other alternative. The heat was here, whether you wanted it or not. And despite everything, this was one of those few moments when you felt grateful to have been born into such a noble house.

Omegas comprised the smallest part of the population, followed by Betas and Alphas. But although fewer in number, omegas were violently desired - especially by alphas. Their smaller, gentler build, delicate features, natural predisposition to submission and, of course, their heat, were just a few reasons why the rest of the population would go to great lengths to keep an omega for themselves. And you knew what happened to those poor omegas scattered throughout the streets of King's Landing and throughout the Seven Kingdoms, without any choice over their own desires, nothing more than slaves to their unfair biology.

There was no mercy when one of them went into heat, yearning intensely for the claim of an alpha - no matter who was. Which led to unwanted pregnancies, sexual slavery, omega trafficking and other heat-induced atrocities. The alphas, in turn, gave in to their most basic instincts when faced with such need, acting more like animals than humans. The brutal confrontation for the claim of an omega most often ended in blood and death - not only of alphas, but death of the omega in question many times, caught in the middle of such unbridled violence.

Despite being rare and desired for their instinctive subservience, omegas were constantly discriminated against, treated with disdain and irrelevance once they are claimed; as pariahs of society, nothing more than perfect breeding mares for the alphas. More than once you vehemently cursed the gods for making you one of them. The burden caused by your designation was almost unbearable. You would give anything to be a Beta; to fit into a standard of normality in the eyes of the people for once in your life. Wasn't it enough to suffer ridicule and discrimination for the questionable origin of your and your brothers birth? Did the gods still need to come and make you an miserable omega?

Ever since you had your first heat at fourteen, you had suffered this fate alone, since any omega of noble lineage could only be claimed when they were of suitable age to marry. Servants stocked your bedchamber with everything you might need in the days following the heat; the finest towels and blankets for your nest, personal beta guards posted day and night at your door for protection, servants discreetly entering to change your bath water and replenish your food and drink supplies. You had all the comfort and privacy that wealth could offer, but your body still yearned for an alpha — your omega begging for a knot, for large hands to hold you close, for sharp teeth to sink into your flesh to claim you as his. It was instinct, uncontrollable, a need so primal and overwhelming that you cried for days, sweating and writhing in the large, lonely bed as you screamed for an Alpha.

But when your heat was gone and this ordeal finally came to an end, you felt grateful to be safe within these walls, hidden from the violence of the alphas who would only desire you for your secondary designation.

And your foggy mind whispers it to you once more. Despite everything, you are safe. Just go to your chamber, make your nest at some point of relief and you will be fine. Like always.

And so you almost do - the large, ornate doors of your bedchamber visible at the end of the hallway, making you sigh in relief. Until a voice halts your final walk.

“Do you need help, Princess?”

The booming, recognizably Alpha voice makes you flinch where you stand, eyes widening as you turn to the source of the sound. Standing there is one of your Personal Guards, Ser Adrian Redfort.

“I-I’m fine, Ser.” You reply hoarsely, straightening your posture as best you can to support your false statement, your heart racing in your chest at being in front of an Alpha just as your heat begins to build.

“Are you sure?” he asked slowly, tilting his head slightly in curiosity — but also with something hard to describe shone there, something dark and shrewd. “You don’t look well.”

And by the gods, you really didn’t. Your face was flushed to the point where you could feel the heat radiating from your skin, a few loose strands of hair beginning to stick to the sides of your face from the sweat. Your intricate dress were wrinkled and uncomfortable on your body where it clung to your damp skin, and you were breathing hard, as if there wasn’t enough air in the castle.

“Yes, I-I’m sure!”

You had never been afraid of the man in front of you — he was one of your Personal Guards after all, someone who was there to protect you. And that was why he was never around when your heat gave signs, replaced by Beta Guards. For your safety. His being assigned to protect your chambers tonight was proof that this heat shouldn’t have happened now.

He sniffs you, a slow twitch of his nostrils that could have sent your entire world crashing down, growling low in his throat at whatever scent he can pick up coming from you. The alpha in front of you is tall, with a dark mess of curls on his head and equally dark eyes. The stubble on his tanned cheeks makes him look rough and sullen. His broad shoulders beneath his armor seem to swell even more under your shy scrutiny and his posture straightens to full height, a show of strength to win over a potential mate.

You weren’t afraid of him. Ser Adrian Redfort, despite his intimidating appearance, was a man of honor, you knew.

But not even the most honorable men were immune to the powerful pheromone an omega released during a heat. They were all alphas, after all, driven by the primal instinct to claim a small, unmated omega.

And when he stares into your eyes like that, his expression as intense as a forest fire, alpha pheromones seeping from his pores so suffocatingly that you might as well have a bag over your head, you feel like you’ve never in life truly experienced the instinctive compulsion to bow and submit to a male like you do now.

And that’s what you’re afraid of.

You’re afraid because you know it’s not you wanting it. It’s your instincts, your pheromones reacting to his and he reacting to yours in an endless loop, the stupid biological compulsion to let an alpha take over your body and use you as he best serves him. Be good, be good for the Alpha.

You know that very soon your mind will be so consumed with heat that you won’t have such qualms or uncertainties, you’ll want — no, you’ll need — an Alpha, and you’ll beg for it, no matter who it is. But there’s still some coherence and lucidity left in your mind, reeling as it is. And using that shadow of sanity, you shiver just thinking about Ser Adrian with you in your nest; his hands on your body, his teeth in your flesh, his knot deep in your cunt.

No, no. Wrong. It’s wrong.

“I could help with that, princess.”

He proposes and you both know very well what he’s referring to. The darkness in his gaze more prominent; a thin, golden ring at the edges — evidence that his alpha was taking control of his emotions.

It’s wrong, but still you feel more moisture forming between your legs, making a sticky mess on your inner thighs, reacting against your will to the alpha pheromones exuding from the man - and you almost sob, because it’s horrible. It’s horrible and no one talks about it; about how absolutely terrifying it is to have no control over your own body, even when you’re undeniably uncomfortable with a situation like that.

Your mother had raised you fierce and resilient, just like Daemon had when he came into your life as another father figure, but you still felt like a child after all, holding back tears and clenching your fists. Your only salvation was your stubborn nature and thirst to prove yourself, to prove that you were more than just a delicate and submissive omega.

Yes, a part of you was aroused to the point of being intoxicated by the sensation, but the more rational side, which was disappearing by the second, fought even harder, squirming and grunting, rebelling against your most basic instincts. Fearing the alpha more than you wanted his knot. The pungent smell of stress and heartbreak tangling deep in the air with the sweet scent of your heat.

This alpha was no good...not the right one.

"N-no, thank you," you reply, gathering all your willpower, desperately trying to think of a way out. You were trapped in an empty hallway, at the beginning of your heat, with a strong, intimidating alpha - it was not a good situation.

"Please," you find yourself arguing with him suddenly when he doesn't back down, your mouth moving before you can even think, "I know you're not that kind of alpha, Ser Adrian, it's just the pheromones getting the better of you, you'll regret it once your mind clears. I said no, please listen to me."

He steps forward anyway, invading your personal space. And as scared and aroused as you are (an honestly disturbing mix of emotions to have) you find yourself baring your teeth at him - a small growl building in your throat, standing up to the alpha who dared to disrespect your decision.

"Poor thing," Ser Adrian chuckles, the golden ring in his eyes growing more evident, your little, thoughtless act of confrontation only stirring the alpha inside him. "You don't know what you need, omega, not really. But I do."

The next thing you know, he’s advancing, so much so that you immediately back up against the wall in response, flattening your feverish, sweaty body against it as best you can to get away from him. A whimper leaves your lips as he reaches out, your body disgusted and craving the action in equal measure, making your eyes brim with tears. He’s going to touch you, he’s going to do it. He’s going to do it and still claim that you wanted it, because…well...you don’t want it, but you do too, don’t you?

A sound rings out behind the two of you.

“Get away from her, Ser Adrian.” You recognize Aemond’s voice quickly; a sharp, relieved sigh in response, your omega instantly perking up inside you. “Now.”

His voice is as calm and deep as ever, but you hear the warning there; the dark tone gnawing at the edges - a tone that promised danger if not heeded. It does something to you, fills your stomach with little butterflies - all fluttering their wings at once. A purr wanting to escape your throat. Safe, the Alpha will keep you safe. Finally.

Ser Adrian’s expression darkens as he senses your relief through the pheromones in the air, slowly turning his body to face the unwelcome presence. He shows no submission at all when he sees Aemond standing there, even though he knows he was his prince. You know he’s too far gone for that now. No hierarchy matters here. It's just two Alphas facing each other over an Omega.

He exchanges an intense look with Aemond, obviously communicating that you are worth the confrontation.

"What are you going to do?" Ser Adrian challenges, his hand slowly descending to rest on the hilt of the sword strapped to his waist. "I bet you don't have the guts, boy."

You swallow hard, trembling for Aemond, scared at the prospect of a fight. Your omega, once relieved, is now agonized at the thought of this Alpha getting hurt.

Aemond, for his part, remains seemingly unfazed by the older man's threat - in fact he smiles at the guard's words. A cold and sharp smile, disdainful really, tilting his head in mock consideration, his hands still casually clasped behind his back. "Do you really want to test that theory?"

Ser Adrian pulls his sword a little from where it is kept, offended by the younger Alpha's reaction, but he still doesn't remove the blade completely from his waist. Aemond, though he makes no move toward his own sword, stares at him with such acidity and defiance in his eye that it’s almost as if that was the only weapon he’d need tonight.

Alphas fighting over an omega in heat become wild, territorial, aggressive. Ser Adrian, from where you can see, is vibrating with tattered restraint, with the tension of a possible confrontation unfolding. He’s acting on instinct. But Aemond isn’t. Although there’s a hard shadow in his one good eye, a warning to his dark and unpredictable interior - he keeps himself perfectly in control. His hands are clasped behind his back, a provocative smile on his lips.

“She doesn’t smell like you,” the other Alpha growls through his teeth, straightening his shoulders, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.

“Hn, maybe I’m a gentleman and I’m going slow so as not to scare her,” Aemond replied in affront, the corner of his lip still pulled back in a lazy smile. "A concern that has not crossed your mind, obviously."

The older Alpha grunts in displeasure in his throat, casting an appraising glance at you over his shoulder, his nostrils flaring to catch your scent. And if you had control of your legs, you would be long gone by now. But not only is your heat consuming your to worrying levels, but the overwhelming pheromones that both Alphas exude in this confrontation are strong enough to make you flinch in response, exhaling your own cornered and fearful scent into the air.

"Are you saying you are this Omega's Alpha?" Ser Adrian snorts in annoyance, turning his narrowed gaze to Aemond.

"Yes." He doesn't even hesitate before answering. "Do you have anything to say or...do...about it?"

The clean and immediate statement coupled with the unspoken challenge makes you gasp, your legs shaking and threatening to give way beneath you, the viscosity in your pussy increasing in response to that easy words.

Did...did he say he was your Alpha?

Could it be that you heard him correctly? Could it be that the only man you'd ever wanted to be courted by had felt the same way all this time?

A thought you'd never dared to voice out loud, knowing full well that doing so would be nothing short of a confession. And you definitely didn't feel ready to confess any tender feelings for Aemond yet. Despite what your stupid heart told, you knew what a conflicted person he was. His sarcastic and unpredictable personality, even his tendencies toward cold words and actions at times.

But he was also...he could also be...

The truth was, you knew how you felt about him. You knew it all too well.

And while you usually managed to keep your unwanted feelings well caged and hidden from outside knowledge, falling into a sudden and intense heat like this made it significantly harder to maintain this charade, especially when his scent hung imposingly and proudly over the other alpha, all possessive and icy intentions. And especially when he so easily claimed to be your alpha.

Amidst the surprise of the declaration, you almost forgot about the challenge between both men, only coming back to the present when Ser Adrian growls something between his teeth (something that sounds very much like a curse), shoving his sword back into its sheath with much more aggression than necessary. He straightens himself before the other alpha - but even so Aemond towers over him, with his imposing height. The older one reluctantly steps away with a murderous look at the prince, maintaining contact as long as he can - it was not in an alpha's nature to give in, especially in the presence of another. Which shows that, on some level, Ser Adrian was still there, clinging to the shreds of control he had left over his own primal instincts.

Aemond holds his gaze, but looks at you again as soon as the guard disappears around a bend in the hallway, his steps deliberately heavy and dissatisfied.

"Come," he says as he approaches where you're leaning against the wall, his cold, affronted expression giving way to one that's almost angry. You feel yourself wilt a little at the abrupt change, but try not to show it, for fear of upsetting the alpha even more. "Let me take you to your chamber, it's not safe to be out here with so many alphas around the castle, especially when you smell like that."

He takes a step closer and you meow in response, your body so fragile and small next to his, his scent invading your nose again. Green apples and parchment, dragon scales and fire. Your omega immediately purrs, wanting to snuggle into this Alpha, let him protect you and take care of your needs.

“Can you walk?” He asks slowly, looking much more tense with you than he had when he’d challenged an older, more experienced alpha, his jaw clenched and his violet gaze refusing to stay on yours.

You feel something ache in your chest, not understanding why he was suddenly being so distant, even though he’d proudly defended you not long ago.

“Y-yes, yes, I can.”

Your legs are definitely shaking, but you still force yourself to take the final steps to your chamber, your dress clinging to your body in the most uncomfortable way, your damp thighs rubbing against each other and creating a friction that makes your skin crawl all over.

Aemond stands rigidly beside you, walking at a respectful distance, looking like he’s barely breathing. Clearly wanting to avoid smelling you. But…but why? Doesn’t he like the way you smell? Don’t you please the Alpha?

You suddenly feel frantic, scared by the knowledge that you’ve lost him before you’ve even reached him.

This is something you could handle normally. Gods, you could handle worse than this, normally. You’ve been putting up with your conflicting feelings for him for years. The heat is just making you feel silly and sad and…pathetic…

But knowing this doesn’t make it any better. It doesn’t help. And before you can stop yourself from doing something stupid, your mouth is moving.

“Why did you say that?” You ask as he opens the door to your chamber for you to enter, staggering and panting, nearly tripping until you fall onto the ornate sofa to catch your breath as if you had run all the way across the Red Keep to get here.

“What?” He asks vaguely, glancing discreetly into your chamber, but not entering it. Looking at your space. Where the things that please your omega are. No alpha has ever had such a view. But he can, you decide. You want him to look.

“Why did you say you were my Alpha?”

For a few seconds, all you can hear is the rapid beating of your heart and your breathing. He had left you in your chamber as he promised, and you began to fear that he would simply ignore the question and leave now.

“I don’t know,” he finally answers, interrupting his checking of the environment to look at you; though his gaze is vacant and distant, as if he is trying hard to just pretend to look at you. "I thought that would drive him away without the need for a physical confrontation. You wouldn't have been satisfied with such aggression, I imagine."

You bite your lip to contain a moan as you feel a strong wave of cramps in your lower abdomen, your head swimming in the rising heat, as if reacting instinctively to those words. He worried about you, about what would leave you unsatisfied.

And later, you would tell yourself that the next question was solely guided by your messy, chaotic hormones, by his enchanting scent filling your sensitive nose. Anything to exclude your conscious guilt.

"What if it were true?"

Aemond blinks, finally looking at you. For real this time. "If it were true what?"

You take a deep breath, your heart beating so fast you can feel it straining against your ribcage.

"That you're my Alpha." You mumble, cursing your own mouth as soon as the words come out. But it was too late and he had already heard each one of them. "What if...what if you really were?"

For a long moment he says nothing, just stands there, stoic and magnificent in his white hair flowing over his shoulders, dark clothes and hands behind his body, staring at you with an almost alarmed expression. And you are so nervous, so messed up with all these intense emotions and this miserable heat burning your body that you find yourself mumbling to fill the maddening silence he maintains, your hands fidgeting as you gesture them in the air.

"Y-you could come in. You could stay here, with me, if...if you wish, of course. I really-"

Aemond shakes his head suddenly once, his gaze darkening at you.

"That's not a good idea."

The way he says it, so firm and direct, his expression hardening into something determined, makes you shut up immediately. The saliva in your mouth is suddenly too thick, your heartbeat painful.

“Oh.”

The rejection stabs you like a sharp dagger, piercing your chest through to the other side in one fell swoop, and you feel like crying. Your bottom lip trembles, and you stare at the opposite wall, nodding weakly. Honestly, how many more ways did the gods plan to humiliate you?

All those years of hardening your feelings for him, keeping yourself away to keep them from growing any further. And you were doing well. Everything was going well. But then, the one time you let yourself harbor a small flame of hope, he rejects you so easily that you wish you could eat the words back, pretend it never happened.

“Right, yeah,” you mumble, limiting yourself to a few words in case you start sobbing out loud. “I understand. You don’t…” You sigh, hurt in a way that only an omega rejected right during their heat, the most vulnerable moment, could sound. Stupid, stupid hormones, you hate feeling this way. “You don’t want me. It’s okay.”

“Wait — what? You think it’s because I don’t want —” Aemond breathes out an incredulous laugh, finally pulling his hands from behind his back to rub them down his face, frustration clear in each of his sharp lines, making your omega shrink even further inside you. Alpha is dissatisfied, help him, calm him down. Despite your increasingly stronger instincts, you manage to stay in the same place, with your shoulders slumped and your breathing anxiously in your chest. "Of course I want you. You have no fucking idea, Y/N, I swear. But this..." he points to your body, to your disheveled condition and watery eyes, "...this is just the heat. You don't really want me to come in there with you. It's just the heat and when it passes, you'll regret this request."

You sigh shakily at his statement, at the restraint he's showing even as he lowers his clenched fists to his sides; jaw tense, preventing himself from breathing too deeply and taking in more of your scent. The intensity in his gaze making your heart race as he stares at you, his brow furrowed in an unreadable expression.

It all makes sense now.

So that's it, huh? He was trying to stay away because he thinks you only want him because of the heat. He thinks you would regret this. He thinks you only want him because he is an unbonded alpha who conveniently happens to be here at this moment.

God heavens, you wish that was all it was.

"It's not just the heat."

You whisper to the imposing room and he sighs deeply.

"Y/N..."

"Let me speak, please."

He holds your gaze firmly and dominantly, almost making you tilt your head down in a natural response of submission, but to your relief he ends up giving in after a few seconds with a stiff nod of his chin.

You wet your lips. "Yeah, I'm going into a sudden heat and I might be partially driven by instincts here..." You mumble weakly, the heat making your body shiver and your mind swim, but you fight to keep yourself together as much as you can in order to convey to him what you really need.

"But Aemond, I shouldn't even be having a heat right now, I'm nowhere near my normal cycle. Y-you, oh fuck -" you gasp in pain as an intense cramp makes you curl up completely over your own body on the sofa. Aemond instinctively reaches out to help, but stops when you hold up an open, shaking palm to him. "N-no, wait. I need to finish saying this." He doesn't look pleased, but he does as you say, waiting impatiently as you shift back into a sitting position, breathing slowly through your teeth to try and calm yourself.

“Do you know what sent me into this sudden heat in the first place?” You ask quietly when you’ve finally gathered yourself enough, your watery eyes glaring at the man in front of you, begging him to hear what you really mean.

“What?” He asks back, holding your gaze with just as much intensity.

You take a breath. “It was you. It was your scent, Aemond.” Your brows furrow at him, trying to hide the shiver that shakes your body as another painful cramp wracks through you. “I-I’m surrounded by unbound alphas here at the Red Keep; Aegon, a few Gold Cloaks, the Kingsguard, my Personal Guards, a few nobles from the court. Every day I see them and interact with them and yet none of them have ever sent me into an uncycled heat. Never. Only you.”

His gaze is dark and heated, a stormy violet, his expression tense and expectant.

"B-but even if my omega didn't feel that way, even if you weren't an alpha...heavens, you could be a beta and I'd still want that, with you." Your mouth is worryingly dry, which you find to be a fair contradiction to how absolutely soaked the middle of your legs is. "Because I've always liked you. Ever since we were children and you would teach me Valyrian late into the night in the library, hidden from our parents and the guards, far better than any Maester could. Or when I claimed a dragon and you were so genuinely happy for me, even though you didn't have your own dragon then. And when everyone laughed at me at court? They made jokes about my birth, but you always defended and protected me - even if you happily let my brothers be fed to the wolves." You smile shakily with the little self-control you have left, which elicits a small snort of disdain from him. "Y-you've taken care of me and protected me all along the way and I've always felt safe with you. And that had nothing to do with your designation."

Aemond exhales heavily, a husky and unmistakably masculine sound, his alpha clearly pleased to hear that you felt safe with him. A shiver runs through your body in response to that primal sound, your belly tightening and you want nothing more than to beg him to take you, or to leave altogether and let you take care of yourself - alone and apart, as you always have, but this time suffering from the rejection of the only alpha you've ever truly wanted.

Still, you force yourself to continue.

"B-but then you introduced as an Alpha and I as an Omega and everything changed. I pulled away because you didn't seem like the same Aemond I knew. You had changed. You were quieter, more mysterious, darker. You didn't invite me to go to the library or to fly with you and Vhagar. You pushed me away. I-I didn't know how to deal with it, it felt like a wall had been built between us and I didn't know how to deal with it...walking away was the easiest way, I guess. But I never, I swear I never forgot...I just-"

You didn't realize you had started to cry. Then everything you had said just hit you like a punch in the stomach. How exposed you had left yourself to him, open and raw as a nerve. But there was no going back.

"If you don't want me, that's okay. I-I'll deal with it. But I need you to know that it's not just the heat, Aemond."

You end with an almost anguished sound, another storm of emotions rising up inside your chest, too strong to be repressed. Your hands release their grip on the upholstery to move restlessly up to the scent glands on your neck, scratching and clawing at the sensitive, pulsing skin with a degree of desperation that only makes your true feelings clear. Everything hurts, everything burns, everything screams for relief, for large hands and sharp teeth. The Alpha's scent so close, yet so far away...

You're going crazy as he remains silent and it's almost like torture, his presence becoming both a delight and a punishment for your omega. The next wave of heat hits so intense that it makes every hair on your body stand on, a shock of cold and extreme heat on your flushed skin. You bite your lip hard to stop from moaning, legs squeezing together to ease the aching throb in your clit - the torturous emptiness of having nothing inside your body when it's all it's needs.

"P-please, if you don't...if it's not what you want...leave me alone. I need to be alone now Aemond-"

“I always know when your heat is here —” he cuts you off in a calm voice, his nostrils flaring slightly as he inhales deeply; a husky, appreciative sound vibrating in his throat as he allows himself to feel you properly for the first time all night. He enters your chamber with careful steps after that, but it’s the sight of his hand splayed on the wood of the door that makes you feel like you could faint right there; thick veins beneath pale skin, fingers long and elegant, adorned with thin, regal rings. You hold your gaze there as he gently pushes the wood shut with an audible click that makes you shiver in response, heart thundering in your chest.

He’s here, in your place. Just the two of you. The Alpha is here.

“No matter how much your mother, your maids, and the Guards do their best to hide you in this secluded chamber, I can always tell when you’re in heat. Even from across the Red Keep I can still smell you — warm, buttery, sweet as vanilla and cinnamon; like something that just come out of the oven, familiar and comforting like home. Like you belong to me —”

Aemond’s bright gaze is fixed on yours, watching you with predatory focus, like a carnivore about to sink its teeth into the tender flesh of a poor deer. Your chest tightens. Instantly, it’s as if an imaginary rug has been pulled out from under you and you’re weightless, even sitting as you are. The moment stretches between you like caramel, tantalizing and promisingly sweet. You arch your back and undulate your hips against the soft upholstery, as if that will soothe the itch. Instead, it spreads across your abdomen like a cloud of fire. You shiver and moan.

“I hear you crying, screaming as your heat is at in peak, begging for a knot. The whole damn Red Keep can hear it, sweetheart.” You’re panting and very, very aware of the slick slide of your poor cunt sandwiched between your thighs as you moves in restless undulations, of the blood roaring in your ears, and of the hungry look in Aemond’s eye, whose pupil is so dilated that his eye, once a pale shade of violet, is almost entirely black. He breathes very slowly, savoring the increasingly intense pheromones you exude. "Aegon usually runs to a brothel whenever you're in heat, as do most of the castle's Alpha Guards. But not me. I stay here...smelling your disturbing scent, enduring the miserable torture of hearing every muffled sound - fucking my cock between my fingers as I imagine doing this, giving in to your tearful plea. You have no fucking idea how many times I've had to stop myself from walking through these doors and giving you what you so desperately beg for, pup."

"Alpha," you sigh, cry. You've never called him that — or any other man directly — but the familiarity and naturalness tastes like molasses on your tongue now, and you repeat it helplessly. "Alpha…"

You could hear his harsh breathing, see his hands tightening into fists. He tried to hold back, but all you could think about was having him buried inside you. Having him rock his hips against you. "You were right, all this time. Ever since we received our designations I feel like something in me has changed. Sometimes it's like I have no control over this new side of me..."

Your breath hitches in your chest and you unconsciously lean into him, breathing him in. "W-what side?"

He sighs; hoarse, troubled. "This side that desperately wants to bend you and fill you until you're leaking with my seed, until the only scent that comes from you is mine...only mine. To sink my teeth into your soft flesh to claim you, to make everyone know who you belong to. It's maddening. It's dark. I'm constantly consumed by primal desires that scare even myself."

"Aemond," you beg, savoring the name, rolling it across your tongue like caramel.

He crouches on the floor, right in front of you, letting your heights equalize for the first time, both hands resting on your knee. You moan at that, tilting your head closer to him to breathe him in, letting the strong, warm, and safe scent of this alpha wash over you.

Your stomach tightens and you grip his arm tightly, bracing yourself, gasping as your inner muscles flex and spasm. Aemond strokes your knees with his thumbs as you shiver. The weight of his hand on you is equal parts comforting and tempting.

You were in the prime of your life and you were going to die.

There was no other explanation for the way your heart was beating fast, like a rabbit’s, at the way he lingered on your skin — at the way Aemond remained still and stared at you, in a way that, frankly, would have been quite flattering if it weren’t for the way his nostrils kept flaring.

“I’m sorry for putting you through this,” you truly did, but you also felt like you couldn’t take it anymore, “but I want you so much, Aemond. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Don’t be. I want you too,” he growled, leaning down to whisper against your ear, his nose gently brushing the curve of your neck. "So fucking much."

Submission was instantaneous then, without the slightest hint of reluctance or rebellion. Your neck tilts back, throat exposed to the alpha, letting him nuzzle your scent gland and inhale deeply, whimpering happily at having him there, his warm, familiar scent enveloping you safely. Omega condescending. But it’s more than that. Omega eager, the scent of your heat intensifying, overflowing between your thighs, which open instinctively as he encloses you with his hands braced on the sofa, and your happy little cry turns into a needy mewl.

His nose slowly moves up to caress your face, gently nudging the curve of your cheekbone. “Can I kiss you? Fuck, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for years.”

You nod enthusiastically against him before he even finishes the question, your eyes closing as his sweet, warm breath blows across your lips. You’ve dreamed of kissing him too, ever since you could remember.

The first touch of his lips against yours was like coming home, so right and so familiar that it almost scared you, if only the heat haze wasn’t disorienting your mind.

You wanted to enjoy it more, to take it slow, but by all the gods, the level of desperation in your body was unhealthy.

Your lips open like a flower beneath the alpha, hands gripping those long, silky silver strands, pulling him closer and closer. Feeling his jaw move rhythmically beneath your fingers as he opens and closes his mouth to lick your tongue, catching your bottom lip between his teeth in a teasing bite. Your legs swing to wrap around his waist, pressing inch by delicious inch of your bodies together. You moan into his mouth, feeling your pussy rub indiscreetly against the hard planes of his stomach, blood rushing to your groin as sticky moisture flows dramatically from your intimacy.

Aemond was perfect, you swore the alpha tasted like chocolate and wine on your tongue, that he felt like heaven against your fingertips. You could smell the arousal in the air, the way he growled into your wet kisses, and the way his large hand clenched in the fabric of your dress on your thigh.

He nestles his hands between your ass and the upholstery, helping your hips sway against his body, not wanting to let you go. His gorgeous, dilated gaze flickers to you as he breaks the kiss, gently kissing your tear-stained cheek.

“Sweetheart…tell me you accept my claim,” he demands in an eager tone, tracing the soft skin of your jaw with his lips to brush the nape of your neck again, where your swollen scent gland burns and throbs. The gentle pressure of his lips there has you squirming, practically melting into his strong hands. “I need you to understand what I’m asking. Please, focus on me, omega.”

You nod, tears weighing down your lashes. “I do, I do. It’s always been just you. Please, Aemond!”

He pulls back at this, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his pale skin as his breathing becomes shallower. His scent seems to increase, overwhelming every inch of your chamber with his pheromones. Running the tip of his tongue over his upper teeth, you see a glint of his slightly elongated incisors. The golden ring at the rim of his eye. His body, no doubt, reacting to the omega’s pheromones, pushing him into his own rut. You feel like you can vibe to this, the omega pleased to know he has this effect on the alpha.

“A-alpha, it hurts,” you whisper.

“Shhh, I got you, love,” he soothes you, though he’s losing control himself, gently nuzzling your noses together. “Put your arms around my neck. That’s it, good girl.”

He stands with you wrapped around him, carrying you toward the four-poster bed. The thin silk of your skirts soaks where his forearm braces your thighs.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet.” Aemond barely holds back a rough groan as his lips come close to your ear, clearly enjoying the way your body is already ready for him. His knot. You whimper, licking the salt from his throat and moaning. You try to straddle his waist once more, try to lower yourself and bend over, feel the thick, hard line of his cock, the bulge of the knot you know is already forming.

You barely realize you’re being placed on the bed. You barely notice his fingers undoing the knots of your corset and pulling the delicate fabric of your dress off your body. You barely notice the gentle words he whispers in your ear, the praises for your omega. The haze of heat takes over your mind and leaves you adrift, confused, needy. It's all a blur of desperate pleas and crying.

It's only when his body, naked and as absurdly heated as yours, lies on top of you that some coherence returns. The sensation of his feverish skin on yours makes you shiver all over, your cheeks burning - although you can't tell if it's just from the heat or the embarrassment of feeling him like this.

He looms large over you, as alphas tend to be, but in a way that makes you feel secure rather than intimidated. His lean, elegant muscles tense endlessly beneath his soft skin, the flames of the fireplace bathing his pale, sweaty complexion in a beautiful orange glow. The tips of his hair slide hypnotically over your skin, sending shivers down your spine with each contact.

"There she is..." he shivers with satisfaction when he feels the heat allow some of your consciousness to return, his hand wrapping around the delicate curve of your jaw to drag you into a feral kiss while he presses your body against his as if he would die without it. Rut, your confused mind answers. He is falling too. And yet, you were still empty and needy.

"N-no nest...there is no nest, Alpha...I couldn't make it...I didn't know, I d-didn't have time - please, I'm so sorry -" You stammer between gasps and sobs on your lips, your omega dissatisfied with not having a nest where the Alpha could curl up comfortably with you, let his knot sink in and keep you warm and safe throughout your heat.

"You're such a good omega, worrying about this..." he mumbles, kissing your chin and jaw, his hands fidgeting at your sides. "But it's okay, love. Your heat will last for days and I'm not going anywhere. We'll have time. We'll use the breaks between heat waves and I'm sure you'll make the most comfortable, cozy nest for us. I can't wait to see it, omega. Promise you'll make a good nest for your Alpha?"

"Yes, yes! I'll make the best nest, alpha..."

"Yeah you will, my good girl..."

When his mouth reaches your glans on your neck again, you know it's red and raised, waiting for him to touch it.

"Stay still baby," he whispers and you're not sure if he's talking to you or to himself.

His first lick against that spot hits you right in the heart. Your breath is ragged with each press of his tongue, and you can’t help the small purr that escapes your chest. When he growls in response to the sound, vibrations coursing through your glans, your hands grip his broad shoulders in desperation.

“Please, gods, please—alpha, please!” Your skin is feverish and taut, tight as a coiled spring, and you need…more. Your hips roll upward, and at the feel of him hard and solid and huge against your core, you almost come right there. Your wrists move, one behind his ear and the other toward the top of his shoulder, and you rub them subtly against his skin, the only thought in your head is for him to smell like you.

“Alpha, please—” That needy plea seems to be enough to rob Aemond of what little control he has left. He wraps those soft lips around the glans and sucks hard, making your eyes roll to the back of your head, your entire body trembling and flushing with heat.

“Omega,” he growls into your drooling skin, his primal instincts kicking in harder than a sword blow, thrusting his wet cock into your belly. “Tell me what you need.”

You barely blink before begging. “Fill me, please.” Your fingers tangle in the leather of his eye patch, pulling it away so you can take in the full extent of your alpha’s immaculate beauty as he takes you. The turquoise stone glows for only a few seconds before you sink your fingers into his silky hair, guiding his mouth back to yours, pulling him in for another heated, hurried kiss.

And with that touch of his lips, you both lose yourselves. With a guttural sound that goes straight between your legs, Aemond is everywhere.

A large hand is on your neck, his thumb pressing against your chin, opening your mouth for him as his tongue meets yours. Using his other hand, you feel the gentle pressure of a finger against your swollen, throbbing clit, eliciting a cry from your mouth clamped to his. You’re lifting your hips, stroking your own tongue against his as he rolls your clit on his thumb, his cock sliding against your hip again and again, leaving your skin wet with pre-cum.

It’s all a cacophony of sensations, too much and not enough. It’s magnificent, but not what you need.

What you need is him, right now.

Gods, you wanted to enjoy this moment, this first time, savor every touch, every new sensation, every taste and smell, but you both knew that you were at the height of this unexpected heat. Anything other than him inside you at this moment would only be torture for your body and your needs. You sob with desire on his lips, tears streaming down your face as your arousal reaches a level beyond painful; unbearable.

He pulls his face away from yours.

Pupil dilated and his tongue darting out to wet those sinful lips, flushed and swollen from your kisses.

Hungry.

He looks hungry.

"Y/N," he says breathlessly, dropping the designations for a moment, even giving up his own rut-driven instincts, to call you by name, and your eyes widen in response, pupils dilated like an endless abyss. "Do you want my knot? Is that what you need right now, baby?" You hold his gaze with a lucidity that no longer exists, but unconsciously understanding the seriousness of this moment.

"Please, please, I'm going to go crazy if you don't do this. I need it, Aemond. Now."

His growl vibrates in his chest and through yours, making you moan in response and wrap your legs around his waist. Your pussy is absolutely soaked with your own arousal. You had never produced so much fluids before, even during your heats. On the other hand, you had never had an alpha promise to give you his knot before.

Something itches in your mind, driving you to present yourself to him now, whispering for you to turn your body and let him take you from behind, this position would be better - more chances of a successful knot. Instinct, obviously, since you wouldn’t have any previous experience to draw on. And you almost do, placing your hands on his shoulders to push him away. The turn, however, is interrupted by large hands on the sides of your waist, firm but still gentle as he keep you lying with him between your legs.

You frown at him in confusion.

“Please, no. Not this time.” He whispers feverishly, leaning his sweaty forehead against yours, breath puffing across your parted lips. “I know instinct tells you otherwise, just as they are telling me, but I want to see your face. I need to see your eyes as I take you for the first time, sweetheart.”

It’s not an order. Not exactly. It’s more of a request than anything else. But you obey anyway, captivated by his need to have you in this way, for his strength in resisting his own Alpha's demands and take you the way he, the men, wants.

Warming up to the desperate cadence of your low mewls, he lines his hardened member up toward your center, your omega more than ready for this. The tip pokes a few times into your soaked folds, seeking warmth as he settles himself.

It’s an almost sacred moment, even in the haze of heat.

The chamber goes silent as he enters you for the first time, thrusting inside, slowly and steady, one hand coming up to the side of your face, the other gripping your hip possessively, his gaze locked on yours. Your hearts beat in sync, the fierce need to be joined to each other growing like a wildfire. The head of his cock barely enters before the world simply stops. He begins to rock his hips, slowly at first, so slowly that it’s almost provocative, but it’s delicious and cathartic, and you never want it to end.

Besides his hungry gaze on yours, the second thing your drunken brain registers is that it doesn’t hurt.

First time penetration should hurt, right? You’ve never had sex before, obviously, but you know that the first time should be uncomfortable, at the least. However, your body accepts him with easy submission, with your own abundant sticky wetness easing the way, and all you can feel is the same relief that his arms offer, the smell of him. You moan between teeth, satisfied, and reach out to grip his arm as he thrusts into you, feeling the muscles ripple under your touch. He groans your name once more and his erection pulses against your walls.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he demands. “Tell me you’ve kept that perfect pussy for me all this time.”

Of course you were his. The fact hadn’t always pleased you, but you’d known that since you were children and running through the halls of the Red Keep. You always knew you were made for him, and you held on to that bitter dream even when you tried to pull away from him. So it was only natural to let your animal instinct take over, exposing the truth as if it were the only thing that mattered.

“I’m yours, Aemond. I’ve always been yours.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. "Only yours."

“F-fuck,” he stutters, your pussy greedy and desperate as it molds itself to accommodate him. “You’re going so well for me, pup. Such a good little omega.”

His lips press against your cheek as he pants, struggling to hold himself together as he feels the full length of his cock inside your folds. And you sense that this is your weakness. Green apples and parchment, flames and dragon scales. He’s warm and comforting, fitting between your legs like he belongs there, like you’re his home. It’s divine how you mold yourself to accommodate him. Easy, as if it were a normal thing, and you had done this together a thousand times before.

Aemond takes a deep, shuddering breath.

And then he begins to thrust. Slowly.

You were soaked and desperate, but Aemond was an Alpha and, well, you were a virgin just a few minutes ago. His restraint was understandable. But you wanted more, needed everything he could give you...

You didn’t realize you were speaking out loud until he answered. “I’ll give you. Fuck, I’ll give you anything you want, baby. I’m yours.” His voice took on a deep, husky tone that sent goosebumps across your skin. “But I need to make sure you’re ready first.”

You whimper. “I can take it,” you promise. “Come on, Alpha. Make me yours!”

Aemond’s large body trembled with the restraint of going slow, his muscles contracting restlessly beneath your fingers. At your words, he groans and suddenly thrusts deep. The air rushes from your lungs, and you dig your nails into his back, gripping tightly as your body struggles to adjust to the massive intrusion.

He pulls back to get a better look at your face, to make sure you’re not uncomfortable. And by the gods, you’re not. Your omega rolls over and shows the belly, satisfied and purring, vibrating with joy at finally having his alpha take you. His thrusts don’t stop, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so beautiful, omega, so fucking beautiful. So good for me, pup.”

Your eyelids flutter with the long, delicious drag as he pulls out, pussy clenching his cock like it doesn’t want to let go, and the emptiness he leaves hurts, no matter how quickly he pulls away. Then he thrusts back in and you breathe once more.

“Yes!” you cry out, wrapping your arms and legs around him, clinging to his lean but strong body. “More, Alpha. Please!”

Aemond curses and then sets a steady, pulsing rhythm in his hips. Each entry was slow, each thrust back hard and intense. He fucked you like he flying on Vhagar’s back: confident and assertive, teetering on the edge of control but never losing it. The extent of his control was crystal clear as he breathed into your lips, his gaze keeping yours, his forehead sweaty and his eyebrows furrowed, even as you shuddered and moaned and clawed at his back.

You were wetter than you’d ever been, drops running down between your thighs to soak the sheets. The sounds of your joining were loud and filthy, filling your chamber with moans and growls, the wet, rhythmic slapping of skin on skin, and the harder he went, the more animalistic you both became. You were soon moaning and sobbing with every thrust, while he grunts and growls in your face.

When he swallowed hard, his gaze was, without any choice, drawn to his throat; the Adam’s apple bobbing, the veins high in his neck, his scent glands. He nods at your gaze, and you’re suddenly overcome with the need to touch him — to taste him.

You lean forward and place your mouth over his gland, alternating your tongue and lips between sucking and licking the heated skin, panting into his skin in time with his thrusts. He groans, broken and hoarse, his hips slowing to fuck you less hard, more slowly.

“Y/N, fuck, I need—”

He’s worryingly heated against you, his own rut peaking, silver strands of hair sticking to his sweaty face.

“Me too, Aemond...I need it so bad it hurts,” you cry, pressing your face against his scent gland, breathing hard. He nods, settling into a rhythm that, while less frenetic than it was a moment ago, is brutal in its intensity. Your thighs tremble around his waist, though Aemond is definitely the one doing the heavy lifting. His knot nudges against your pussy, pressing, clamping, and pushing against your entrance with each thrust.

“I can feel you getting close,” he whispers in your ear. “Do you want to come in my knot, pup?”

Your head falls back and you moan loudly as he hits you again, and again, hard and stand, and you’re right on the edge — close enough that you can feel your orgasm building in your lower back, threatening to overtake you at any second.

Yes, yes, yes, your omega cries out in response to his question. It’s all you want, all you need. To come with the Alpha’s knot inside you.

“Yes,” you sob. “Please!”

As his knot begins to force itself inside you, everything becomes shockingly clear. You know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were made for this. To take his knot, to sit on it, to come and clench around him until he paints your insides with his seed.

“Oh, good girl, almost there—” His voice grows lower, rougher, darker. “Yeah, that’s it, spread those pretty legs a little wider and let me—fuck, yeah, that’s it, puppy—”

Your purpose is singular now, as his knot stretches your entrance. He forces your opening almost to the point of pain, even as wet and stretched as it already is, but biology is on your side. You strain for his next thrust, and with a searing ecstasy, you feel his knot push a little deeper inside you.

The next movement, like everything else tonight, is guided only by instinct and basic need. You hold the back of his neck, guiding his lips to the junction of your neck and shoulder, tears streaming down the sides of your face until its soak the sheets.

"P-please, make me yours, Alpha. In every way."

Aemond sighs longly on your skin, leaving wet kisses there, his breath warm and tense. His body is so intimately attached to yours that each thrust makes your breasts drag against the hard planes of his chest, teasing your sensitive nipples. Each undulation of his hips rubs your throbbing clit against the trimmed hair of his pelvis. It is torture, the most delicious torture.

"You're going to fucking kill me, love." He half smiles half growls, gently nipping at your shoulder, just a shadow of what you really wanted from him there. You grip him tighter, frowning as you mewl dissatisfiedly through your teeth.

He silences your mumbled protests with whispers of your name and designation, intoned in an encouraging tone against your skin as he guides you closer and closer, and you feel your thighs tremble around his hips as you prepare to be pulled under. Your toes clench, body ready to jump into the waters that threaten to drown you, all you need to do is let yourself sink. Let your body surrender to what you were designed to do.

“Come for me, Y/N,” he growls into your shoulder, the vibrations coursing through your body, his fingers digging into your hips, leaving marks on your skin that your omega accepts with pleasure. “Come for your Alpha and then I'll give you my knot, I swear.”

And with that encouragement, you submit completely. The command to surrender to the pleasure was all your body needed. A primal scream rips from your throat, and your body shudders beneath his. Your pussy clench around his cock, desperate and needy for what only he could give you. And it’s nothing like cumming with your own fingers.

Aemond, feeling your walls tighten around him, thrusts harder; a long groan through his teeth before biting down hard on your shoulder, his sharp incisors tearing the skin until you’re screaming. Despite the shock of pain, your fingers dig into the back of his neck, pushing his face into the bite, wanting more. He growls at this, thrusting his hips forward one last time, burying his cock deep as his knot finally expands inside your pussy, locking him in place and joining you together.

Your spine arches, your breasts pushing against his chest with a long, broken groan that seems to escape straight from your core, your body clenching around his cock before contracting almost painfully. Aemond grunts, nearly falling on top of you as he shoots inside your pussy, filling your insides with his cum.

Entire galaxies shimmer behind your eyes as a second orgasm rips through you, just by the sensation of it being his, irrefutably. And you cling to your Alpha as he graces you with slow, shallow thrusts, his seed filling you beyond your limit. You can almost feel it filling your womb, spilling from your core and dripping down from where your bodies join to coat the sheets beneath you.

He licks your raw flesh when he releases you, whispering praise as he wipes away the blood dripping down your skin, and the throbbing in his cock begins to slow.

But though your orgasms are over for now, you know you’ll stay glued together until his knot comes undone. Your arms tighten around his shoulders until he sags, letting the weight of his body collapse onto yours, and you savor the comfort of being smothered by him. Your omega purrs, rubbing your cheek against his sweaty shoulder, trying to cover yourself with as much of his musk as possible.

The chamber is silent, except for both heavy breathings and the crackling of the fireplace.

It takes you a moment to recover. Your mind is drunk but relaxed, satisfied. And then a hand slides down your arm, broad and warm and absolutely everything you need. He takes your hand in his, so small and fragile in comparison, noting how both are trembling before lowering his lips and placing a kiss on your knuckles.

Your eyes open into lazy slits at the feeling and it’s only after what feels like an eternity that you realize it’s raining; thunder rumbles around the castle as flashes of light illuminate your chamber through the windows. But you don’t feel afraid. Because inside you are warm and safe beneath your Alpha. You both gasp together as he locks his gaze with yours, his lips swollen and a little red with your blood. An unspoken question flashes across his expression, the tops of his cheeks flushed and his skin sweaty, his gaze beginning to return to its usual violet hue. You smile in response, something vague and lazy, but enough to show that everything is okay.

With a relieved nod, Aemond can’t help but gently stroke the damp hair stuck to your sweaty, flushed face, slipping an arm under your back to cradle your head with his other hand. “Good?” he asks, his voice hoarse and rough, punctuated by another small burst of semen that makes you shiver and laugh softly.

“You’re big,” you say, flexing slowly with a fragile sigh, eliciting a breathy laugh from him as well - his head turning in a weak reprimand, as if he doesn’t surprise with your cheeky response at a time like this.

When he rolls to the side, you hum happily as feel him wrap your body around him to bring you with him, still intimately embraced and joined by the knot. He lies on his side, arranging one of your legs over his hip, your head hidden in the crook of his neck. Both of you bracing yourself for the time it would take for his knot to deflate.

You feel completely exhausted, sated now that you’ve received what you needed from the Alpha. Your mind is clearer and more aware, finally letting the extent of what you’ve just done sink into your bones. But you know it won’t last long, another wave will soon arrive, your heat had only just begun and the days ahead would demand a lot from both of you.

“Shhh, just sleep, pup. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Aemond whispers into your hair as he feels your restlessness begin, a large, warm hand slowly running up and down the curve of your back and thigh in a soothing gesture, the other arm stretched out beneath your head to serve as a pillow. “I’ll take care of you from now on. Trust me.”

With those words your eyelids begin to grow heavy, the almost painful stretch of Aemond’s knot, still deeply trapped inside you, fading into a comfortable tingle. And with a sigh of relief, you allow yourself to snuggle closer to his body, his familiar scent now ingrained in every inch of your body, feeling protected and cared for - without any doubt that he would keep his promise. The soft throb of his bonding bite on your shoulder confirming it.

He is yours now. And you are his.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #hotd #hotd season 2 #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen smut #prince aemond #aemond smut #alpha beta omega #alpha aemond targaryen #omega reader #alpha aemond #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #dance of the dragons

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shewrites444 · 6 months ago

Text

one time thing [ art donaldson x patrick's sister! reader smut ]

wc - 5.4k

[ summary - patrick and tashi have been together for a few months now, and art's been a bit jealous. he's in need of a distraction, and given that you're getting over a recent breakup while also preparing to transfer to stanford, you do, too. only issue is how patrick is your older brother, but it's not like that's stopped you and art before. ]

[ warnings - brother's best friend trope, little bit of fluff, dirty talk, oral (m&f), unprotected sex ]

❀⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

"it's nice to see you lit up about something, even if that something is my girlfriend."

art cringed at patrick's words, knowing his best friend was right, but he denied it, even though it was bluntly obvious to anyone and everyone who knew how he felt about tashi duncan.

he shook his head, glancing down at the table. "patrick, you know i would never do anything to jeopardize your relationship, or our friendship. i'm happy for you, i really am."

all patrick could do was laugh, giving art a cheekish grin before taking a sip of his coke. he set it down on the cafeteria table before looking back to his friend. "hmm. you gonna come with us to her parent's fundraiser tonight for the tournament tonight? she's letting us bring guests... so, you could always bring a little someone?"

"patrick." art rolled his blue eyes, shaking his head in disbelief with a half-smile. "as if. the only thing i'm focused on is tennis. but yeah, the plan was to come, as long as you two don't make me the hate my life as the third wheel."

"we would never." patrick leans back into his chair. "why don't you try.. i don't know, you could try talking to [ y/n ]." he shrugs.

art stops for a moment, blinking as he registers his friend's words. he's got to hide the red on his cheeks, which is a bit hard to do with his paler skin. he looks down from the floor back up to patrick. "are you prostituting your own sister to me, patrick?"

you were patrick's younger sister, only by about a year, and also happened to be enrolling in stanford as a transfer student for the upcoming semester. you weren't there for tennis like art and tashi, rather a pretty good academic scholarship for computer science. art liked that about you, the fact that you had more to you than sports (sports wasn't a bad thing, just different), and that you had goals other than the ones he, patrick, and tashi had. but he hadn't talked to you in about a year, so it had been a minute since he had even seen you. yeah, you two had each other on social media, but neither of you were that active.

"what? no." patrick smirks, clearly indicating otherwise. "i mean, she thinks you're cute, i guess. i can tell. and she'll be there since tashi's letting me bring my family, so you could always just flirt with her, i don't know. something to spice up your night? who knows, maybe you could fu-"

"you're - you're gross." art nudged patrick, an awkward laugh leaving with his words. "[ y/n ] and i wouldn't have anything to talk about anyway besides you and stanford, and she's not even going into the same program as me. and she's your sister, for one, so i'd prefer to not talk to her about you the entire time. weird conversation starter, don't you think?"

patrick leaned closer, holding his coke loosely and taking a sip, before tapping it quickly against art's lips. "not like you haven't accidentally kissed your dear friend before, art. wouldn't be weird to kiss anyone else in my bloodline."

"again, gross." art's cheeks tinted a light pink at that memory for a year or so ago of the two of them with tashi, before he stood up, slinging his bookbag across his shoulder. "enough of that. i'll see you tonight."

"m'kay." patrick nudged art with the bottom of his shoe as he stood up. "see you tonight. text me when you get there."

art left the cafeteria, looking down at his white, court-scuffed sneakers as he walked down the sidewalk. he was in trouble. he wasn't even thinking about tashi and patrick now. that jealousy subsided for the moment.

yeah, he hadn't talked to you in awhile, but it's not like you didn't have a history patrick didn't know about. i mean, you fucked like, what, right before he went to stanford?

there was never anything between the two of you. art would give you a simple 'hey' when he went to see patrick at your parents' house, but that was really it. except when patrick went to hook up with some girl in the middle of the night, and art was in the kitchen getting some snacks at 2 am, high off a bong him and patrick had been hitting for way too long, and you walked in there in nothing a but baggy t-shirt, also extremely high on your own accord, thinking no one else was around, and well... one thing led to another. whoops.

he didn't regret it, and neither did you, but there was an unspoken agreement to never tell patrick because regardless of how much he'd give you two shit for it, inside, he'd probably be extremely pissed off. it was a one time thing, but he wouldn't get that, no matter what the present matter was now.

impulsively, in the midst of stress, art dug into his jean pocket to pull his phone out. he pulled up your number, his pink lips pressed together as he debated what to do. should he text you and give you some sort of heads up? he wasn't going to leave you to the wrath of your own brother, so he started to type. he didn't even know what he was saying, but he had to say something, right?

hey, patrick said you'd be at the fundraiser tonight. i don't think he knows about last year, but he was making jokes with me about hitting on you. so i guess just, be cool tonight.

you were in your hotel room unpacking your suitcase when your phone pinged. luckily, given that your only sibling was patrick and he was staying with tashi, you had a room to yourself, as did your parents. you were glad for that too - you'd be able to focus on everything stanford this weekend to prepare for next semester. art didn't even really cross your mind until you saw his name pop up on your screen for the first time in months.

your brows furrow as you lean down to pick your phone up off the side of the bed. you open the text, your eyes widening a bit. there was no way patrick knew. like, actually no way, so you weren't concerned about that. it was just the idea that he was making jokes about you talking to art that kind of threw you off. why would he say that?

hey. i don't know why he'd say that - no way he knows, he's just fucking with you, so what's new lol. i'll see you tonight, i'm sure it'll be fine.

"great." you mutter to yourself, before setting your phone back down once you saw his immediate 'thumbs up' reaction to your message.

you were both high when you fucked, but you still remembered it. it's not like you didn't know what you were doing, both of you knew exactly what was going on. awkward small talk that led into you stepping closer to art, art stepping closer to you, you making the first move to kiss him, and well... yeah. you remembered well.

you thought art was hot too, obviously, and it was fun, but you never thought you'd have to even think about that again. i mean, yeah, you'd see him again probably at patrick's wedding (if he ever got married), or maybe at one of their matches, but that was really it.

you had been with someone for the past few months anyway, and that was your main focus, at least romantically, but he went away to college, and you both agreed it was best to just, move on, and go in different directions. and it was, because you were sad for a little, of course, but you wisely focused your attention towards school and work. never thought you'd be texting art donaldson for the first time in months right now.

"focus." you said to yourself, averting your attention back to the half-unpacked suitcase before you.

a few hours had passed and you were getting out of the uber with your parents to walk into the banquet room that the fundraiser was being held in, until you were directed to go outside for the social portion of the event before dinner. it was evident the duncans were like, insanely rich, probably from the amount of funding they got from their daughter since she committed to stanford, so i guess that was good on your brother.

you looked around for patrick, knowing that he was already there with tashi. you spotted them standing at a pub table talking to none other than art. of course, you looked back for your parents, but they were already off at the bar waiting for alcohol. shocker.

"[ y/n ]!" you could hear patrick yell your name, waving over to you. he gestured for you to come towards them.

you sigh, plastering a fake, obviously anxious smile across your face as you wave in return, walking towards the three of them. tashi smiled at you, and walked towards you first to introduce herself. you could see art in the corner of your eye, hands in his pockets, while he glanced more towards the floor. way to play it cool, art.

"hi! you're [ y/n ] - i'm tashi." she pulled you into a gentle hug. she was way taller than you, about the same height as your brother. you returned her hug, giving her a soft smile, as welcoming as you could be to your brother's only girlfriend that he had been with for more than a month.

"hey. it's nice to meet you, tashi." you nod, looking up to her as you step apart. you glance to patrick, then to art. you give him a short casual, wave. "hey, art."

art takes a sip of his beer. "[ y/n ]. good to see you."

"you too." you say shortly. patrick furrows his brows, looking between the two of you, before shaking his head.

patrick reaches forward to take tashi's hand. "let's go say hi to my parents. they wouldn't shut the hell about meeting you over the phone this morning." tashi nods, before giving you and art both a wave. "yeah, for sure. see you guys in a bit."

patrick and tashi walk off, before it's now art and you standing at the table alone. you can barely even hear the music around you with how much you were thinking about the situation at hand. you hadn't seen art in person in what felt like forever.

you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t think he looked good. better than good, actually. he was much more toned, you could tell with the way his muscles were tight, but not too tight, against his light blue polo. you could see it in his jawline, his legs, his chest... damn, he looked good. you'd never dispute that.

"so, has he said anything to you?" you break the silence, maintaining your distance.

art shook his head. "no. he's been more focused on tashi meeting your parents. you?"

"of course not." you sigh. you reach to the table next to the two of you and take one of the drinks from a serving tray. "he's distracted. i really don't think he's aware of anything, art. plus, that was like a year ago, it's not like either of us think about it either. i mean, i can barely remember it."

art wouldn't say that he was hurt by your remark, but it didn't feel too good. you didn't remember it? yes, you were both under some sort of influence, but he knew he fucked you good, and he didn't remember you not being aware of that.

"you don't remember it?" he asks, tilting his head in confusion.

you blink. you look up to him, the drink in your hands as you stand straight. you clear your throat. "uh, i mean, isn't it best to just.. act like it didn't happen? not like it keeps us up at night, so why would it be relevant? it was a one time thing."

art couldn’t help but frown, gently shrugging his shoulders as he look up at the marble ceiling. "well, i mean, it happened, so it's weirder to act like it didn't, you know."

"…okay." you trail your words, nodding as you notice him looking away. "so.. so you'd rather acknowledge it?"

his eyes went from the ceiling to you. “i can pretend like it didn’t happen if that’s what you want.”

god, he sounded so disappointed. you could hear it in his voice. he got quieter, and his hands would fidget in his pockets, struggling to express the way he felt to you in fear of stirring up any sort of tension, worse than the amount that was already in the room.

you take a sip from the drink in your hands. it was strong. you wince, setting the glass down on the table.

"no, that's... that's not what i mean." you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. your goal wasn't to make him feel like shit, just to be more casual about it. "i don't want you to think i didn't have a good time, i just.. just don't want to think about something that wouldn't happen again, you know."

art's brow raised. a smile creaked at the corner of his mouth. he leaned against the pub table, and glanced up to you. "do you want it to happen again, [ y/n ]?"

your eyes go wide, and you can feel the blush crawling onto your skin. you chew on the side of your cheek for a moment, and avoid eye contact by staring at the table.

"that's... that's a big question, art." you laugh to relieve your own inner tension, grabbing the glass that you had previously set down and taking another sip. maybe you need something strong for this conversation. "it's been awhile, and i mean, we weren't even sober when it happened. so, it's hard to answer that, i guess."

art hadn't thought much about it the past year either, if he was being honest with you. he'd been so wrapped up in tashi and patrick, and tennis, and school, that there wasn't even any room to think about you, or any other women, for that matter. but now that you were right in front of him, he wouldn't pretend that he wasn't thinking about it now.

the opportunity could potentially present itself, if you two were careful. he could fuck you in your hotel room tonight if you wanted him to, or, if you were antsy enough, he would gladly let you ride his dick on that table in the separate dining room that the duncan's weren't using tonight he noticed on his way in.

art was an understanding guy though, so it's not like he didn't consider how you felt in this situation. if you didn't want him to even lay a finger on you for whatever reason, that was fine, too. but if you did want that, god, he'd gladly do so.

he doesn't answer your words from beforehand. he got lost in his train of thought, so instead, he figured he'd have to take some sort of initiative. he wasn't the most dominant man out there, but if you were to want this, you seemed to prefer him doing all the work.

"do you want to go inside?" he asked quietly. the indication was there. you felt a pit in your stomach starting to form.

so, you nod. “yeah.” you answer in the same quiet tone of voice. you brush your hair out of your face to rest behind your ears, before turning yourself towards the banquet room.

you looked around for your brother and tashi, noticing they were standing with your parents more towards the front of the large room. you look back to art as he followed behind you.

“fuck it.” you look up to him, and you shrug, attempting to loosen up. “just follow me.”

art bites his bottom lip, and nods. “mhm.” he sighs. “lead the way. fuck it.”

what the fuck were you doing? you’re in a public place. you’re about to fuck your brother’s best friend, again. you thought you were sick - damn, good thing you didn't know what art did behind closed doors with your brother and his girlfriend.

whatever. maybe this would be a good way for you to get over your breakup (even though you were already over it, you just needed an excuse). maybe it would be a good distraction for art, too, god knows he’s been so buried in tennis this past semester he probably couldn’t focus on anything else.

you wouldn’t lie, you were nervous. when you hooked up, all you did was slide your panties to the side, and you kept your shirt on. and he fucked you from the back, so it was a hook up-hook up. no vulnerability there, so it’s not like he saw you for you.

tonight, you felt it in your gut that he'd see all of you. you'd see all of him. and you weren't high, barely even buzzed from your few sips of your drink earlier, so you'd be sober. fuck. you could be sick right now.

"do you know where you're going?" art laughed to himself. were you so nervous that you didn't even know where you were taking him to? he really has to do all the work, even when it comes to location.

art thought about it. you were a sweet girl, really, and he wasn't the type of guy to try and level you down to someone you weren't. yeah, he could gesture the two of you fuck there in somewhere private, despite it being a public event, but he'd like to think you were both above that, at least tonight.

part of him wanted patrick to know he'd be fucking you, but another part of him knew you didn't deserve to be put in the middle of that. he wouldn't do that to you.

"hey." he gently placed his hand on your shoulder, his fingers warm against your cold, exposed skin. "i'm gonna get an uber. we can go back to your hotel. would you prefer that?"

you think for a moment, and nod. "yeah. that.. that sounds good. thanks."

art nods, and with your permission, he takes his phone out of his back pocket and after a few seconds of scrolling and tapping pretty hastily, he orders an uber to the venue. mostly everyone was inside, and everyone was distracted. patrick and tashi were both so focused on your parents, and they were so focused on them, you wouldn't be missed. neither of you.

the ride to your hotel was quiet, both of you sitting in the backseat of the car, both of you refusing to look at each other, looking out the different windows on each side. luckily, it was quick. your hotel was only about a ten minute drive, so you didn't have that much time to think.

"thanks." art broke the silence by opening the car door, handing the driver a $10 bill before gesturing for you to come through his side.

you slide over, and you run your hands down the front of your dress to brush off any light wrinkles that formed on the drive. you clear your throat, looking up to art and then the hotel, before you turn to walk in.

"sorry if my room is a bit of a mess." you mutter, walking through the lobby towards the elevator. "i got here only a few hours before the event."

art smiled down at you as you stepped into the elevator, watching you click your floor's button. he brushed some of his curls off his forehead and shrugged. "as long as you aren't as messy as your brother, it's no problem."

you scoff, rolling your eyes and nudging him. "if there is any rules for whatever the fuck is going on, one of them is to not mention my brother, art."

he snickered, walking through the now opened doors with you towards the hallway. "fine. only because it's a rule now, i guess."

you grinned, the mood shifting from the initial nervousness and awkward atmosphere to a now lightened feeling. you remembered that you and art could joke around, too, and this wasn't some stranger to you. you had known him since you were kids, it wasn't that big of a deal. no need to be so up-tight.

"here." you say, stopping as you fumbled through your purse to grab the room key, holding it against the pad as the door made a short 'click' noise. you push it forward, and set your purse on the little kitchen nook right as you stepped inside. art followed closely behind you.

his hands slowly trailed along your waist, fingertips dancing against your stomach and thumbs pressed against you outer back. you froze, cheeks burning almost in an instinct while he leaned down, gently pressing a kiss on the side of your neck as his noise pushed some of your hair out of the way.

"is this okay?" he asked softly, his hot breath against your neck.

"yes."

art pressed another kiss against your neck, but this time, he let his tongue come forward, too, gently tracing coats of saliva with each kiss. you could feel his cock hardening, pressing against your lower back while he stood behind you.

you closed your eyes, a small moan escaping from your lips. you take one of his hands off your waist and lead it to the bottom of your dress. he takes note of this, and he slides his hand in between your legs, bunching up the middle of the material as he moved his fingers to your thong, pushing it to the side.

you lean forward, gasping as his cold fingers move to your slit, and he could already feel how turned on you were. you could feel him smile against your lips. he pushed two of his fingers against your clit, lightly beginning to rub. your eyes are shut, and you're already so fucking wet. it's almost pathetic.

"oh, fuck." you hiss, one of your hands pressed against the kitchen counter. "you've gotta slow down, art."

he sped his movements up. he felt your body jolt as his touch pressed harder, too. "get on the bed, [ y/n ]." he pulls away.

you gasp softly, and glance to him from behind. you walk towards the bed, where he follows. you stand before him and you glance to the tent in his khakis.

"no." you blush, but a confident grin slowly wrinkles onto the sides of your lips. "you get on the bed."

art chuckles, holding his hands up in the air before he scoots past you to lay on the bed. he sits down, propping his body up by his elbows as he watches you lean down before him.

you begin to unzip his pants, and slide them off him and off his ankles. you reach forward again, gulping while you take the waistband of his boxers into your hands, before you slide those down, too. his cock points up at the ceiling, long and so fucking hard for you. you had felt in before, yes, but you had never seen it until now.

you stand up to take your dress off, where he follows by taking his shirt off. you both strip, and both toss your clothes to the floor. you stand in nothing but your thong, given that your dress had some sort of built in bra. you were so fucking nervous, but you weren't even focusing on that right now.

you lean back down, reaching forward to take his cock into one of your hands, before you lean up, collecting spit into your mouth. before you can suck his cock, art stops you.

"wait."

you look up to him, your eyes wide. "i-is everything okay? did i make you uncomf-"

"no." art shakes his head, his eyebrows raising at your misunderstanding. "no, not at all. i... i wanted you to get on the bed, too.. i.. i want to eat your pussy, [ y/n ]. maybe we can both.. do it at the same time?"

you thought your eyes couldn't get bigger until his suggestion. you take your hand off him, and slowly rise up. "y-yeah. we can do that."

you crawl onto the bed, slowly turning your body to where your pussy is right in front of him, your folds on display before his mouth. his cock was aching, visibly twitching before you with how desperate it was to fill your holes.

you lean down, starting to slowly suck his tip, earning a moan from art before he leaned up, both his hands taking your ass into his hands. he begins to lick your slit, your juices coating his tongue before it latched onto your clit.

your moans were muffled as you filled your mouth with his cock, your eyes while you sucked. art didn't even notice that he began lightly rolling his hips, gently thrusting his cock into your mouth. you could feel him reach further down your throat, making you gag lightly but enjoy the feeling, nevertheless.

one of his hands moved off your ass and to your pussy, lightly, pushing his middle finger into your hole while he still licked at your clit. you gasped, pulling your mouth off his cock.

"f-fuck sorry, i-"

art didn't reply, he instead curled his finger inside of you, making you gasp and your body push closer to his. he pulled his finger out, before grabbing your ass in full again, squeezing your thick flesh before pulling you closer, until you were on his face.

your face was heated, and you slowly leaned down again, sliding his cock into your mouth in one swift movement, before your hips began to gently roll against him. you could feel his nose against your clit, and his tongue dive into your pussy.

you tried to push your mouth and your pussy into two different worlds. you wanted art to feel as good as you did.

you gagged on his cock, and you could feel his moans vibrate onto your pussy while he tongue-fucked you. you didn't know how much more of this you could take before you came all over his face.

"m-mmmhh.." you moaned onto his cock, slowly pulling your face up. you reached forward to stroke him. "art, i-i need to fuck you now, like right now.. you're gonna make me cum all over you if you don't stop.."

art groaned, pulling his face away, which was now coated in your wetness, before his hands found your waist, and lightly pulled you off of him and onto the bed, on your back. you watched him turn his body around, before he got on his knees between your legs.

"wanna see you when i fuck you." he leaned down to peck your lips before he took one of your legs and moved in onto his shoulder. "too pretty to not see when i'm inside you."

you blink, your cheeks a light pink as you take in his words. you smile, despite your nerves, as you look between your legs. you watch his other hand take his cock, and you reach forward, your hand on top of his, as you both guide his cock to slowly fill you.

you both gasp, watching art slide himself fully into your soaked pussy, before he began to find his rhythm. you look up to meet his eyes, both your hands trailing to your hardened tits, as you slowly began to rub your fingers against them.

art looked down, watching you touch yourself as he touched you, and rolled his eyes as the view only turned him on further. he picked up his pace lightly.

"i forgot how good it felt to fuck you." art hummed, his free hand that wasn't holding your leg up moving down to press his thumb against your clit, making you squeak at the added touch. "you are so beautiful, [ y/n ]. and your pussy is so, so good. so fucking sexy."

"yeah?" you giggle, looking between your legs again to watch him slide in and out of your pussy, each thrust sending a jolt through your stomach. "your cock fills me so perfectly, art. makes me so fucking wet. i missed it."

"you did?" he raised his eyebrows, tilting his head in a playful manner. he moved his thumb off your clit, reaching forward to gesture for you to open your mouth, before sliding his thumb inside for you to taste yourself. "you want me to keep fucking this pussy? i'll fuck you whenever you fucking want when you're at stanford. you make me feel so good."

"mhm." you nod, sliding his thumb out of your mouth as you moan at his now increasing speed while your words continued to build off each other's. "you can fuck this pussy anywhere. i don't fucking care, art. you're so fucking hot."

art shakes his head. he leans down to kiss you deeply, before his strokes become more staggered, pulling himself completely out of your hole and drilling himself right back into you. "let me fill you, [ y/n ]. please. wanna see you all stuffed with my cum."

you didn't give a fuck in the moment. you nodded, probably a bit quicker than you wanted to admit. you returned the kiss, but pulled away eagerly. "yeah, fill me up, do it, i don't care. it's so fucking hot. you’re so fucking hot."

art nods, starting to increase his speed, your muscles contracting as he leaned forward, and his cock pierced into you.

you didn’t remember him feeling so good inside you, and you certainly didn’t remember asking him to cum into your pussy, but you were so whipped in the moment you weren’t really focused on anything but what was between your legs and the man who the dick was attached to.

art reached down again to play with your clit, trying to stimulate your own orgasm along with his as both your bodies rocked onto each other, the hotel bed squeaking underneath you and the headboard hitting the wall harshly.

“i’m gonna cum in you, baby, i’m gonna now.. fuck—” art stammered, gasping as he stopped his movements inside you.

you arch your back while his cock filled you whole, your orgasm and his own warming inside you, your own orgasm dripping out from between his cock and your folds onto the bedsheets.

he fills you for a moment, holding you closely as he catches his breath before slowly pulling out of you, lightly rubbing his wet tip against your clit before rolling himself to lay beside you.

art reaches forward, and he cups your cheek. he kisses your lips lightly, some stupid, boyish smirk on his pink lips. you roll your eyes, looking up to the ceiling as you breathe.

“shut up.”

“i’m not talking!” art holds his hands up, chuckling as he glances down at you. “i’m just surprised, is all. this is not how i expected my night to go, but i’m not complaining.”

you roll your eyes, looking up to meet his blue eyes. they’re soft, and they’re gentle, despite the roughness in the way he just fucked you. you knew he meant everything he said to you.

“oh, hush. i’m sure you expected something to happen.”

he shrugs, a cheekish expression still covering his face. “well, maybe. but like, a kiss, or something like that, i don’t know.” he looks down at you, and kisses you again.

you smile into the kiss, before turning the side, grabbing your phone off the nightstand to check the time. “geez. we missed dinner.” you sigh, before looking back at him. “probably a good thing though.” you snicker.

art chuckles, nodding in agreement with you. the last thing he wanted to be around was your brother and tashi, too. “no kidding. you, uh, wanna grab something to eat? and then maybe i can show you around campus. i know it’s kinda late, but all the buildings will still be open. i can show you where some of your classes should be, if you’d want?”

“hm…” you pretend to think for a moment, before nodding, looking up to him and sitting up. “yeah, sure. why not.”

"great." art couldn't help but smile, watching you stand up and grab your clothes off the floor, handing him his own in the process.

he couldn't help but think that you coming to stanford was a good thing, for you and for him. he wasn't even thinking about how patrick would feel about all this. the goal was for him to not know, right?

#x reader #x yn #fanfiction #fanfic #smut writing #art donaldson #art donalson x reader #challengers fic #challengers x reader #challengers 2024 #challengers smut #challengers movie #mike faist #patrick zweig #tashi donaldson

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acosmicbee · 2 months ago

Text

School Troubles

(This takes place in the same world as Rehabiliation and gives a deeper look into the world building. It is edited and reposted from my Wattpad because I got into a car accident yesterday and didn't have time to write anything new. Me, my family and the other person involved are all okay but my family's car is totaled and undriveable)

You were supposed to be a hero. At least, that supposed to be the end goal of your schooling at this academy. The problem being, while you had powers, you weren't interested in the slightest.

Your parents ran a small flower shop, doing a few catering things here and there. They were completely normal and powerless, your typical civilians. Then, one day, you'd barely touched a few seeds and suddenly had full-grown plants.

It didn't take long for the government to find out. They'd gotten very dedicated to snatching up any kid with powers and then sorting them into either a government sponsored hero school or 'alternate' school. From what you've heard, these alternate schools were government sponsored villain factories so they could make sure their hero schools were always needed. However, you'd ended up in one of these hero schools.

During your six months here, you'd broken several school records, including but not limited to 'quickest escape attempt', 'most uncooperative to government propaganda about becoming a hero' and 'farthest runner before being shot with a tranquilizer bullet'.

In other words you were driving the principal, though you called him the warden because this was 100% a jail in your opinion, absolutely insane. He was a younger hero, maybe late 20s. He had fire powers and had retired from hero work allegedly due to some issue with his villain nemesis.

You had, once again, found yourself in his office. He was staring at you with a carefully controlled expression but you could feel the anger and annoyance radiating off of him in waves.

"This is the third time this month." He said sternly, sitting across from you. "You can't keep trying to stage a coop. You're just going to get more hours of detention." 'Detention' wasn't even normal and instead consisted of listening to government propaganda podcasts and stuff for a couple of hours.

"Then can I go home? I'm not becoming any sort of hero, period. I'm supposed to be helping my parents with their flower shop, as I've always done." You were just as stubborn, meeting his cool look with a glare.

"Look Y/N," he'd long since dropped using your last name with how often you ended up in his office. "I wasn't happy either when I was first enrolled here-."

"I wasn't enrolled. I was kidnapped off the street." You corrected. "And I haven't seen my parents since."

"Anyways, I'm trying to tell you that I get it. You're having a hard time adjusting to life here. Despite your powers, you feel you don't belong."

"Because I don't. I'm not becoming some stupid hero." You said. You crossed your arms, fully ready to get another detention if he said something to set you off.

"Look, do you want me to try and see if Ridgeside will take you? Because that's your only other option here. Either you stay here and become a hero or we label you as 'rebellious' and ship you off to become a villain." The warden snapped.

"I don't want to become anything! I want to go home!" You yelled. "Why can't you understand that?!"

"I do understand, but 'home' isn't an option. Y/N I've laid your choices out. Hero or villain. Pick your poison or whatever, but make a choice. I don't want to keep seeing you in my office every day, but I will continue meeting with you like this if I have to." He threatened. "Two hours of detention after dinner tonight. I'll be supervising it, seeing as most teachers here are done with your attitude."

You just groaned, grabbing your things as you were dismissed. As you made your way down from his office, you could see some of the other students outside, training or playing around with their powers. You were the only person here who didn't want to become a hero. The few people you'd talked to about wanting to leave just missed home or wanted to see their families. All of them had said, though, that they'd come back here once they were done.

You were supposed to have some roommates like everyone else did. Other perspective heroes to help raise a sense of camaraderie, but you had a room all to yourself. You'd gotten moved to an empty room after you used one of your roommates powers to help you escape during your first week. Now you didn't talk to people outside of school hours and meal times. Any free period was spent alone, brainstorming ways to escape.

And you swore it, you would escape this place and find your way home, no matter what it took. Besides becoming a hero or villain, that is.

⋅˚₊‧ 🔥🌊 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You were in the hallways again. Your teachers were mostly used to you misbehaving and refusing to participate, so you spent a lot of time sitting in the hallways. It wasn't so bad, it definitely gave you time to focus on escape plans and what you would do when you finally made it home to your parents.

Today, however, you sat there, watching as some random guy hoisted himself through one of the hallways windows. You watched as he landed on the ground, dusting himself off before freezing when he noticed you. The two of you just blinked at each other.

You just shrugged, going back to your escape planning. So what if some dude just scaled the side of a building and came through a 4th floor window? That's not your problem. After thinking for a second, you added scaling the building to a possible way of escape.

"Why are you in the hallway?" You glanced up at the random man, who was now standing over you. He was clearly older than the principal by a bit. Maybe he was some government official or a visiting hero. But that still didn't explain climbing in through the window... Eh, you honestly didn't care enough to ask.

"Because I hate it here and refuse to participate." You answered, returning to your notebook. The strange man didn't take the hint and leave, instead continuing to stare at you. Finally you grew tired of his staring and asked him, "why are you in the hallway?"

"Oh! I'm here to surprise Dean! It's been so long since I saw him." The man said. "Do you know where his office is?"

"Dean?" You asked. This place didn't have a dean, just assistant principals.

"Ah! I suppose because you're a student you would know him as the principal or headmaster." Your face immediately scrunched up in disgust.

"Oh... him... His office is one floor up. Take that staircase, and it'll be the third door on your left." You said, indicating the nearby staircase. You'd been there enough times to know how to get there in your sleep.

"Thank you. What's your name hallway child?" He asked.

"Y/N."

"I'll make sure Dean rewards you for being so helpful! Later!" With that, the strange man bounded up the staircase, full of energy. You just shrugged. People were weird.

⋅⋅˚₊‧ 🔥🌊 ‧₊˚ ⋅

"Y/N!" You were just laying in your dorm room during your free period. You hadn't even done anything this time, so it made no sense as to why the warden was pounding at your door like you'd tried to escape again.

With a groan, you opened the door, already done with the conversation before it began. "Yes?"

"You let him in! Not only that, you told him where to find me!" He fumed. Literally, he was beginning to smoke. You just waved your hand in an attempt to keep the smoke out of your room.

"Who? I don't even know what you're talking about. I didn't even do anything today." You complained. He groaned, taking a few deep breaths as he slowly stopped producing smoke.

"Did anyone strange come up to you today asking about me?" He asked. His tone was the one grown ups used when they were pretending that you weren't in trouble when you definitely were.

"I mean, yeah. But he knew you by name, so I assumed you were friends or something. Wait, do you even have friends?" You asked. You certainly don't get why anyone would want to be his friend, but whatever.

"Of course I have friends!" He sounded offended. "But that man isn't one of them!"

"Okay. So you're getting mad at a student for not knowing who your friends are?" You asked, not following.

"No! The reason I'm mad is because you allowed a villain to roam the halls of a school without reporting it!"

"He was a villain? Am I supposed to just know who's a villain by looking at them?" You asked. The warden just groaned.

"Look. Do you know how he got into the building?"

"Yeah. He climbed in through the window. On the 4th floor." You said. "Can I go back to resting now? This is supposed to be a free period."

"No. You're coming to my office so we can have a little chat about proper protocol when you see someone climbing through a window!"

"But my free period!" You whined as you were all but dragged to his office.

⋅˚₊‧ 🔥🌊 ‧₊˚ ⋅

It was a Saturday, which meant a free day for you. It was pouring outside and the sound of rain on your window was marginally soothing. Normally you would spend your weekends planning out every way of escaping you could imagine, but not today. Today you just lay in your room, trying your hardest to focus on the book in front of you. It had been in your bag when you'd been snatched off the street and was the only thing you'd been allowed to keep.

Your parents had gotten it for you, and it was the only thing you had of them here. You weren't even allowed to send them letters. The book had been one of your favorites back home, but now you struggled to get through a few pages. It felt wrong to be reading when you didn't even know how your parents were doing, or if they knew you were okay.

You were attempting to gather enough willpower to just read the first chapter to give yourself something to do when you jumped at the sound of a knock on the window. Turning, you saw the strange man you now knew as a villain, was back. Only this time he'd found your room and also had managed to scale the building when it was slick with rain. Despite knowing you'd get chewed out for it later, you opened your window.

"I'm supposed to report it if I see you again. Apparently you're a villain." You informed him. Your face scrunched up as he expertly came through the window before you realized he was completely dry and wasn't dripping water.

"I wondered if you recognized me but I assumed you didn't. Guess I was right." He said, looking around your room. "Dean must've lectured you for hours. Geez kid, your room is so empty. No roomie?"

"I'm too much of a flight risk apparently. They think I'm gonna corrupt some wanna-be hero because I don't want to be here." You said. The strange man perked up.

"You don't wanna be here? Do you wanna be a villain?! I promise, being a villain is a lot more fun." He said, looking ready to give you the whole spiel on it.

"I'm not becoming a villain, but i'm not becoming a hero either. I just want to go home to my parents." You groaned. Only to flop down on your bed in defeat when the door to your room suddenly slammed open. "Great. Now he's here too."

"Xavier." The warden growled. He was smoking again but the villain, Xavier you guessed, didn't seem phased.

"Dean. Lovely weather we're having. Maybe you should take a walk outside before you burst into flames." " Xavier was completely relaxed as he took a seat in your desk chair. "I wonder if Y/N is going to end up like you in the future. You certainly acted the same way you punish them for when you were their age."

Instantly the mood shifted, the headmaster grew tense as he grit his teeth, glancing at you for a second. You sat up on your bed, suddenly way more interested in the conversation. The warden had what.

"I learned my lesson. Hopefully they'll learn theirs soon." He said, a few small flames bursting to life at his fingertips before he forcefully began to calm himself down. "You have no right to bring that up. Especially not after all you did."

"I was just trying to do what was best for you. I still think it would've been a better path than the one you've ended up on, but you'll understand in time." Xavier glanced at you before smirking. "Sooner rather than later, if I'm right."

"You don't know me, Xavier. Not anymore." He said, finally calming down enough that the smoke stopped.

"Um... can you have your little," you gestured between them, "whatever this is, not in my room?"

"Y/N. Please be quiet or I will make you sit in my office and retest your comprehension on the proper protocols when villains enter the school. Again." Dean said.

Xavier just smiled as he stood, brushing invisible dust off his pants. "Fine. I can see where I'm not wanted. I'll just see myself out okay?"

He smiled at you as he made his way over to the still open door of your room. "And Dean? I know you're trying to deny it, but you can't forever. Sooner or later, you'll need my help and my door is always open for you."

"Why didn't you report it when you saw him?" Dean asked, back to his default headmaster mode.

"How did you even know he was in my room?" You countered.

"There are walls with guards surrounding this school if you'll remember. Since his last breach I've had them on high alert." He groaned. "I'm not in the mood to supervise another one of your detentions so we're going to pretend this never happened. Behave Y/N."

With that he stalked out of your room, shutting the door and leaving you alone once again. You glanced at your book for a second before immediately ignoring it for a more enticing train of thought. Just what was the relationship between those two? And why were you getting drawn into whatever was going on?

⋅˚₊‧ 🔥🌊 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You were getting impatient. It had been months, but Dean and Xavier were still keeping an eye on you. Xavier would climb through windows or just stroll into your dorm like he owned the place. Dean would constantly call you to his office to 'check in' and seemed to have a Xavier detector, often finding the two of you a couple of minutes after Xavier would sneak onto school grounds.

Either way, you were no closer to an escape than you had been when you'd first arrived. At least, that was until a school trip was announced. Apparently it was around the time when the rest of the heroes-in-training in your age group would find out who their nemesis was supposed to be. For some reason, you were included in this trip.

Of course, Dean had threatened you with everything from detention to private lessons during your free time to shipping you off to become a villain yourself. It wasn't going to stop you. Not when you were so close to your goal. This time, you would see your parents again.

Eventually the bus had to stop so you all could use the restroom and get some snacks. You were supposed to stick with your assigned buddy but when he drifted off towards his friends you took the opportunity. You stood by the door, waiting for the right moment. The second you heard someone start bickering and the teacher's attention was turned to them you ran. You could see the train station from the rest stop and jumped the turnstile, darting onto the train you needed at the last second. You just managed to make out a pissed off Dean, staring right into your eyes, by the ticket counter as the train pulled out of the station.

You had done it. You were going to see your parents again. You knew, deep inside, that you'd just be taken back to the school at some point, but it didn't matter. For now, you were going home.

⋅˚₊‧ 🔥🌊 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Something was wrong. You could tell the second you got off the train and saw smoke rising from somewhere in the neighborhood. You could feel it in your stomach, that something was fundamentally wrong. You ran.

It wasn't until you found yourself outside your family's flower shop did you confirm it. The building was on fire, you could see the pretty displays you'd once helped to set up turning to ash. When you couldn't find your parents out on the street you ran into the building.

It was hot, hotter than you'd ever imagined. You crawled into the back where your apartment was, avoiding the areas with fire. Smoke billowed over your head and you could barely see. Your eyes were burning and you felt like you had no air, but you still pushed on.

"Mom! Dad!" You tried screaming, only to inhale smoke. You began coughing but didn't let that stop you.

"Y/N?!" You could faintly hear your father's voice. He was close. You were so close.

"Dad! Mom!" You called again. "Where are you?!"

"Y/N!" There! Your parents were across the living room, on the floor. They both looked unharmed. Upon seeing you they both began making their way over. You held out a hand to pull them towards you... and that was when the ceiling gave out. You couldn't even scream as you watched the roof crush them underneath. Couldn't hear anything over the sound of crackling fire, blood rushing through your ears and your own screaming.

You struggled, ignoring how your hands instantly blistered as you tried lifting the burning hot pieces of roof. They couldn't be... no! After all you'd gone through to get back here, they had to be okay!

"Mom! Dad!" You were sobbing now, your hands were burnt and you could barely breathe. As you became more and more lightheaded, you resigned yourself to dying there, along with your parents. You wouldn't stop fighting to save them.

You were hysterical, and fought viciously when someone pulled you away, forcing an oxygen mask over your face. All your mind could focus on was the collapsed roof and your parents. You scratched and squirmed, trying desperately to break their grip on you. By the time you registered the pinch at the base of your neck you'd already been injected with a high grade tranquilizer and the whole world faded to black.

⋅˚₊‧ 🔥🌊 ‧₊˚ ⋅

"That was mean of you." Xavier's voice echoed through the bedroom. You were laying in the bed, hooked up to an oxygen machine, IV drip and more machines used to monitor your health. Your bandaged hands rested on top of the comforter. You had yet to wake up in the hours since Dean had pulled you out of the burning flower shop.

"I didn't start the fire." He said back. He sat in the chair next to your bed, watching over you. "I didn't want this to happen."

"But you knew what would happen. You knew what happens to those that escape, don't you Dean? What happens to their families?" Xavier probed.

"That's enough! If you think I wanted what happened to Calista and Rome to anyone else you're more insane than I took you for." He hissed. "This isn't the time for this. Y/N is... they're..."

"So you finally understand." Xavier smirked. "You understand what I did to you all those years ago. Why I tried so hard to lock you up. They remind me of you. Both of you are too stubborn for your own good."

Xavier stepped closer, his smile growing when Dean didn't push him away. Instead one of his hands made their way to Dean's head, playing with his hair. "They don't have anyone anymore, Dean. No parents, no home to go back to. They're all alone. Don't you remember how it felt to be all alone?"

"I... I need to help them. I need to save them." Dean murmured, slowly accepting his own dark feelings as Xavier egged him on. "They need me..."

"They didn't want to become a hero, right? You need to keep them safe where they can't be hurt in hero work. You need to make sure they never leave you. I'm sure you remember what happened when you left me. Do you really want to have to do that to them? To make sure they can never be a hero in the public eye again?" Xavier asked. He knew Dean was already going to do it. He just needed to add a little more fuel to the fire to make sure you would be extra safe.

"They always wanted to go home... so I will make them a home here. That way they will never leave me again. They can never be hurt again." Dean decided.

That was the moment your fate was sealed. No matter how much you cried when you finally woke up. No matter how much you screamed when the bandages on your hands needed to be changed. No matter how much you disassociated when the news was finally broken to you that from the amount of third degree burns you received you'd never regain the full range of motion in your hands. No matter what happened, Dean and Xavier were right there beside you, making sure you wouldn't injure yourself more than you already had. You would never be free again.

#platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #platonic #yandere ocs #parental yandere

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glowettee · 4 months ago

Text

how to recover from chronic procrastination (not just time management tips)

by mindy @glowettee

i wanted to talk about healing your relationship with time and tasks when you're stuck in a deep procrastination cycle. i've been in this cycle for a month now, and just recently got out of it using all of these methods. please just remember to be gentle to yourself, and take small steps.

understanding your procrastination:

identifying emotional triggers: notice what feelings come up right before you avoid tasks. is it fear? overwhelm? sometimes it's as subtle as a tiny flutter of anxiety

recognizing avoidance patterns: maybe you always clean your room when essays are due, or suddenly need to reorganize your pinterest boards before studying

spotting perfectionism links: notice when you're not starting because you're afraid it won't be perfect. this often shows up as "i'll start when i feel more prepared"

understanding fear responses: your body might feel heavy, or you might get suddenly sleepy when facing certain tasks. these are actually fear responses in disguise

mapping procrastination cycles: track how one avoided task creates a domino effect of more procrastination. it's usually a sweet little pattern we can gently break

emotional recovery steps:

healing task-related anxiety: create tiny, sweet rituals that make tasks feel safe. maybe light a candle before starting or use your prettiest pen

building self-trust again: start with promises so small they feel silly. like "i'll work for just two minutes" and actually stop after two minutes

developing completion confidence: collect evidence of times you've finished things, even tiny things like making your bed or sending a text

managing overwhelm spirals: catch yourself before the "i have so much to do" spiral starts. write everything down in your prettiest handwriting

creating safety in starting: make beginning feel cozy. wrap yourself in a soft blanket, make tea, create a gentle environment for work

rebuilding work capacity:

micro-task training: start with tasks so tiny they feel almost meaningless. maybe just open your laptop or take out one book

starting-point exercises: practice just beginning things without the pressure to finish. it's like dipping your toes in a pool

momentum building: string tiny tasks together like beads on a necklace. each small completion leads to another

success spirals: document every tiny win in a pretty journal. watching the pages fill creates its own kind of motivation

confidence restoration: celebrate completing even the smallest tasks. treat each one like a tiny victory worth noting

practical healing methods:

task relationship repair: make peace with tasks that scare you. talk to them like old friends you're getting to know again

emotional safety nets: create comfort zones within your work space. maybe a special corner with fairy lights and soft pillows

anxiety soothing techniques: develop gentle ways to calm your nervous system. perhaps counting flower petals or tracing patterns

overwhelm prevention: break everything down into pieces so small they feel almost silly. like "open notebook" as a complete task

progress preservation: keep a soft, gentle record of all your tiny steps forward. no progress is too small to celebrate

creating new patterns:

gentle accountability: find ways to be accountable that don't feel punishing. maybe share your tiny goals with a friend

achievement recognition: notice and celebrate every small completion, even just getting out your materials

progress celebration: create sweet little rewards for progress. maybe a favorite song or a moment with your comfort book

pattern interruption: catch old patterns with gentleness. "oh, there's my pinterest avoidance. how sweet of me to try to protect myself"

identity rebuilding: slowly start seeing yourself as someone who can start and finish things, one tiny step at a time

maintaining recovery:

preventing relapse: notice early warning signs with kindness. catch yourself before the avoidance cycle starts

managing setbacks: treat setbacks like gentle reminders to return to your healing practices

building resilience: each time you start again, you're building stronger foundations

sustaining progress: keep your momentum gentle and sustainable

adapting strategies: adjust your approaches with tenderness as you learn what works best for you

remember: recovering from chronic procrastination is about healing, not just forcing yourself to work.

tip: small wins create the foundation for bigger changes 🤍

p.s. you're not lazy, you're healing from task trauma.

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novascharms · 5 months ago

Text

teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

a.n — double update cause it's a short one + apology for the contents of this chapter word count — 1.4 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. masterlist

seven

wednesday, january 29th

"no, i'm telling you, it's real! i read about it." devon pulls on hazel's arms as the four of you walk toward your school building. "someone talking about it in a tiktok video is not reading about it, devon." ivy laughs and devon shoves her to the side. "you believe me, right, y/n?" she turns to you and you're in this weird inbetween place where you can hear them, sort of but your mind is also in a million other places so you don't immediately answer.

"hey?" hazel rests an arm on your shoulder which halts you, "hm?" you ask and look at your three very concerned best friends. "you know we don't have to go, right? we can just..go to my house, get all the strawberry ice cream from the freezer and have a long discussion about ..cryptozoology. devon can tell us about that time she saw the loch ness monster again." she says and you smile when devon mutters something about her experience being 100% real.

"you have a perfect attendance, hazel. we are not going to tarnish that for..a boy. i'm okay." you try to sound convincing, try to convince yourself even because really, it shouldn't suck as much as it does. you knew that rafe somehow reciprocating your crush was wishful thinking. it was stupid to ever even entertain or let the idea play in your mind.

you'd had crushes before, even kissed two guys. once when you were fourteen and once when you were fifteen but looking at them never felt the same way as looking at rafe and you had never even come close to kissing him.

"but—"

"no. let's go." you force the three girls forward. you were first in your class, first in your entire grade, you singlehandedly organise almost every major and minor event at this school, you process all the complaints and changes students want almost weekly, you help your parents at home, you work at a bakery on saturdays, you volunteer on sundays. you are resilient and capable and rafe cameron is not going to bat his eyelashes and break you in one month of knowing him. it just wasn't going to happen. it couldn't.

you could avoid him, you think as you walk into the school building. right? this school was fairly big and truth be told, before you started tutoring, rafe didn't really stand out to you. things could go back to that time. they had too.

the first four hours went perfectly. you passed by the office and helped sandy with some paperwork until class started, then you went to class and were able to avoid him during the break as well.

you got nervous when lunchtime came around. you and your friends usually stayed in school during lunch which meant rafe could just walk up to you in the cafeteria but there were other places you could go. you could go to the green spaces or the common area. maybe even the bleachers in the basketball court though you never really liked the smell in there.

you eventually chose the green space. it was quiet and calm, just what you needed. you and your friends sat down and when you open your bag you realise you left your lunch in your locker. "i left my lunch in my locker, i'll be right back." you tell them and fish your key out of your bag before making your way out of the green space and down the stairs.

when you made it to the second floor, you walked to your locker, keys jiggling in your hands. "y/n?" your heart stopped at the sound of his voice, and the natural course of action when someone called your name was to stop or at least turn but you just kept walking. "uh huh?" you answered.

"hey, hold on!" he called and you heard him start to jog. you start to walk faster. "i..uhh am kinda in a hurry!"

"just wait." he grabs your wrist and whips you around. he looks unjustifiable good again. you force yourself to not make eye contact. "yes, rafe?" you find yourself saying in the most passive tone and his gaze lingers, filled with worry. "what happened yesterday? i texted you like ten times." he's visibly upset—crease between his brows, soft searching eyes boring it yours and it makes you upset and now you want to pinch yourself for being upset because you've created some kind of fucked up parasocial relationship with a guy who has no real interest in you.

"i..just wanted to go home. so, i went home." is the only thing you can come up with. it's technically the truth too. you pull your wrist away from his hand and he watches the action with a pained expression. "did something happen while i was gone? why didn't you come to me? i was going to take you home."

you shake your head nonchalantly dismissing him, "it's fine. i like walking, i barely exercise so i need it. it's absolutely fine." you're already turning around to find your locker but he's grabbing your wrist again, "why are you acting like this?" he's frustrated with you. you understand. you're acting different but you're frustrated with him too. even if you don't necessarily have the right to be. "you know i'm not that smart so stop playing fucking mind games with me."

you frown at his tone but also his choice of words. "you are smart, rafe. you're very smart." you correct, not liking it when he belittled himself. him not believing he was capable or smart was the whole reason he needed tutoring in the first place.

"yet i can't piece together why you're mad at me." he says, his tone displeased and you shake your head, finding his eyes. you find yourself wanting to appease him, wanting to make him feel better. you hate that he's upset, it coils something deep inside of you. "i am not mad. i'm not upset, i just..i didn't want to—" it was baffling how much you struggled to come up with a lie. you weren't a liar, okay? "i-i saw you, i saw..that you were, you were.. and i j-just—" you stammered and threw your head back in frustration.

he stared at you, eyes wide and expecting. "you just..what? how am i meant to fix it if you won't tell me what's wrong?"

"you haven't done anything wrong; if anything it's me. i—"

"you what? you didn't have fun? did someone hurt you?"

"no one did anything." you murmur and it seems to be what pushes him over the edge, "then what's wrong?" he snaps, his apparent annoyance bursting at the seams.

"nothing is wrong. there is nothing to fix, i just wanted to go home so i went home!" you yelled suddenly and rafe along with the couple of people still in the hallway stared at you in what could only be describe as utter surprise. "sorry..i'm sorry." you tried to collect whatever pride you still had and turned on your heel abandoning your food completely.

it started slowly. just slow breaths as you walked up the stairs, then that pit in your throat when you were on the third floor, followed by tears in your eyes that you were frantically trying to blink away on the fourth floor, and when you finally made it to green space, the tears were streaming down your cheeks and hazel was already standing up before you'd even made it to the table. "oh, no, sweetheart," she's pulling you in your arms and the dam just breaks and you're letting out everything you'd been holding in since that stupid bonfire. "it's okay, i'm so sorry, you're okay." her comforting whispers and gentle kisses are muffled and overshadowed by the way you're crying in her arms.

you feel ivy and devon's hands on your back, rubbing slow circles, "we got you," you feel a warm hug from behind and one on the side. you're completely cooped up, unable to even see anymore light, just little cracks. either way your vision is blurry with tears. "i w-wanna go h-home.." you hiccup in hazel's neck and you can feel her nodding. "we'll go home. we're going home."

hazel's parents are surprised to see the four of you home but when they see which state you're in, they barely question it. her mom orders take out, the junkiest junk food they can find, she calls your mom to tell her where you are, you pile onto the couch and they don't mention rafe once. you have a six-hour-long discussion about cryptozoology and the science behind mythical creatures.

chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. taglist — @rafeysworldim19 @my-name-is-baby @pogueprincesa let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist & interact with post to remain tagged <3

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satancopilotsmytardis · 2 months ago

Text

Head Empty, Stuffed...

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Summary: Commissioned by @curufins-smile. Dabi has a hard time letting go in his and Shigaraki’s scenes until he starts pretending to be something he’s not. The escalation from that point to pretending to be nothing but a head-empty horny slut is not something he foresaw for himself, but he is absolutely not complaining when it makes him feel so good.

Contents: BDSM, Dumbification, Bimbofication, Feminization, Lingerie, Edging, Orgasm Denial, Sex Toys, Masturbation, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Creampie, Cock Cage, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Praise Kink, Daddy Kink, Prostate Milking, Spanking, Dacryphilia, Subspace

Word Count: 8,167

Dabi has, even after everything in his life has gone wrong, always been the kind of person who thinks he knows exactly how and where his life is going to go next. Maybe that innate sense is from how he was told he had purpose when he was born, maybe he is just someone who constantly seeks out a way to make his life mean something, but either way, he has always known what he would be. That thing has changed over the years, but visualizing his future was never something that he had trouble with.

Tomura Shigaraki might be the only time Dabi has been thrown a curveball and left spinning on his ass as he tries to figure out where he's going from here. Dabi wasn't expecting Shigaraki to be anything other than a villain obsessed with his own goals when he first heard about the League. And then he hadn't been expecting him to be anything other than an entitled, loser, brat, gamer-bro villain who was being bankrolled by real power in villain circles and he would just be a tool for Dabi to use to get to his goals. And then he thought he was a worthless waste of space when AFO got arrested. And then he thought that maybe Shigaraki could actually be capable enough for him to be worth Dabi spending his time with after the Overhaul thing. It wasn't until he watched Duster tear down the city around them in Deika as he convinced the army that was standing against them that he could be a good leader and that hitching his horse to this wagon until his own inevitable end was truly a good idea. Dabi has had a lot of thoughts about Shigaraki over the months that they've known each other, but he absolutely didn't have any concrete ones about the other man’s sexuality until he was confronted with it.

"Grand Commander," The PLF member that spoke was a woman, in her early twenties, bright eyes, big tits, and a sweet smile that had not convinced Dabi that she was innocent and coquettish as she was trying to present herself as she immediately got a little too close to Shigaraki as she introduced herself. "It's so wonderful to see the new direction that you've taken the organization in so far." She said, completely ignoring Dabi who had been in the middle of trying to set a time for he and Shigaraki to go over what he'd missed since he spent two straight weeks getting healed by the doctor so that he wouldn't be limping around here on his cane or dying of gangrene from the fingers that had to be amputated. "I would love to spend some time together one-on-one and hear about the other ways that you plan to make changes." She batted her eyelashes and Dabi would have gagged if he weren't so flabbergasted that anyone would make a pass at Shigaraki of all people. "I have a combat quirk, so if you're cleared for more strenuous activities, we could also do some training together sometime."

He'd opened his mouth to say something then, but Shigaraki had blatantly run his eyes up and down her body before he'd turned back to him. "We can meet in my office tomorrow at eight. I'll see you then." Before he turned and walked off with her.

Dabi had gaped after him, but when the shock and indignation wore off, he had figured Duster had just never gotten any attention from a girl before and the socially isolated gamer was just begging for attention and his first taste of pussy.

And then when he went back up to their wing of the villa after finishing all of his work for the day, he had heard her howling with her pleasure and begging for more through the walls until nearly two in the morning. Dabi had been just about to lose his mind, but thankfully, someone else spoke to Duster about the lackluster soundproofing in their rooms and he had contractors up there within the week to make sure the incident didn't repeat itself.

So fine, Dabi acknowledged that Shigaraki fucks. He could also say that chick was putting on a good show for whatever status she didn't end up getting from fucking the new leader. But that didn't stop other people from trying it with Duster too. More girls, guys, people outside of the binary, and Shigaraki accepted a handful. Dabi couldn't even tell what the other liked, given that the people he took to bed had such a wide variety of different traits, worked in different departments, and had completely different styles. But whatever. Shigaraki's dick was his business, and Dabi was going to go back to ignoring it. He could admit that he didn't expect Shigaraki to be the kind who was able to pull but that wasn't going to impact his work.

And then Shigaraki stopped seeing anyone else and Toga mentioned when he was helping her trim her hair that he smelled lovesick. The idea of their boss being so fucking influenced by his emotions like that had Dabi hording the knowledge like a knife in his back pocket. He thought that was fair given that they had tried to kill each other when they first met.

It was bad form for him to pull it out when he was trying to go over work with Duster in his office and he noticed that the other man seemed a little distracted.

"Put away the longing, hand job, I'm not just here to look pretty." He'd snapped and that had red eyes locking onto his with an intensity he hadn't been expecting. "Yeah, Toga told me about your crush, stop thinking about it when we're supposed to be working." He couldn't help pressing the advantage when he had it.

Shigaraki had tensed slightly and then he'd taken a slow breath, "What about outside of work?"

Dabi snorted and went back to the papers, "What you do with your dick outside of work isn't my concern unless you make it mine."

Dabi had thought he was being pretty clear that he didn't give a fuck who Shigaraki, well, fucked, but when they finished their work and he stood up to leave and Shig had caught his wrist, stepped right into his space, wrapped a hand around the back of his neck just gently enough not to kill him before his mouth had been over his own and he was being devoured, Dabi realized that neither of them had been playing with a full deck.

He had changed his expectations about Shigaraki a lot since they met, and even more when he'd gotten his head out of his own ass and actually started dating him properly. But Dabi had not been able to anticipate how much he would want to change where he was going next or who he was when he was with Tomura. Not giving up his goals, or changing who he would be outside of their bedroom, but inside of it? Oh, he had no idea just how freeing it would be to not have to think about that future or have any expectations on him but his dom's.

///

Dabi is going to kill someone. He might kill a lot of someones if he goes out this weekend to 'recruit' as they try to keep up the pretense that they still don't have the resources that they do now with the PLF. Besides, keeping the heroes, especially Hawks who is still trying to crawl back into his good graces after he blew up at him, and blew his tattered cover, when he pulled the sword on him after the High-End fight is a good thing. He should probably take a couple of days off and wander around in a city not too far from Fukuoka so that he thinks that he's just been slumming it there in the aftermath. After that, maybe he should try a gamble with the doctor. He's not going to turn him into a nomu now, not when that would get him the wrong kind of attention from the rest of the League, but maybe he could do something about the shitty medical care he's been able to get for himself since he left the hospital. At least Ujiko actually has a medical license. After that it would probably behoove him to take some time digging around the files that their spy in UA sent them. He hasn't heard much about his brother's studies since his internship started, not since that villain went to their house and Natsuo nearly got killed. He should also--

"Dabi."

He blinks, looking up from his laptop where he was finishing writing the meeting notes so that none of the other lieutenants, i.e. Geten, can pretend to have 'forgotten' something that they talked about and then go about doing the same old bullshit that he used to before they rebranded.

"I'm going to be home this weekend." He tells him easily, "Why don't you go get pretty and we can do something special tonight?"

Dabi didn't realize that his mind had been running so quickly it had seeped tension throughout every inch of his body until his lover offers him a reprieve. "Fuck off." The words are practiced and vicious, but everyone just thinks that he's, as Toga says, a complete prude when it comes to showing anything about his and Duster's relationship outside of their bedroom. They think he's just being prickly because that's what he does and Tomura is teasing him about it because he likes to see the rise that he can get out of him. It's a good illusion to keep because Dabi quickly finishes up the memo so he can go straight upstairs and do exactly what Tomura wants.

Dabi knows that no one in their right mind really would find him pretty, but thankfully, Shigaraki has bad taste and likes to play pretend with him. He likes to be in charge, likes to make sure that Dabi isn't thinking twenty steps ahead as he constantly rushes towards his own goals in the midst of their war. When they have time to be together, he wants it to just be them, not all of the screaming thoughts that race through his head when he gets like this. But being apart for another three weeks while his lover was getting treatments from the doctor and having to keep on top of everything in the PLF has taxed him in a way that he knows will only get worse if he doesn't take the relief that Tomura is offering him. Besides, now that they've found the right cocktail of play that they can use to give him that, he's more than eager to take it.

Knocking down the wall between their rooms, soundproofing the new space, putting in a second walk-in closet, and expanding the ensuite had been a project that took two months, even with the ability to use all of their own people who are also more than happy to use their quirks to speed up the work. But now their room is theirs, made perfect for them when they're inside. The separate seating area with Shig's game setup and the TV, the massive bed with the custom headboard that Dabi has been locked into more than once, a big tub so he can soak in it when he's been worked over too thoroughly to move for himself, and of course, the second closet.

This door is locked whenever they're not using it, both of them knowing that the chances of one of their friends barging into their room for something or another is still extremely high, and not wanting to compromise their privacy or Dabi's dignity by leaving it open. He has one key, Duster the other, and he goes over to the door and feels the last of his tension melt away as he turns it in the lock and hears that satisfying click ring through the room. Dabi enters the closet and immediately is hit with the smell of the soft floral perfume that is sitting on the vanity. Their normal closet is filled with their normal clothes. Tomura's suits, their villain shit, their casual clothes, and it is all just organized cleanly and neatly with an organizer that they essentially just dragged and dropped from some big online furniture store. That room is pragmatic, this room is for play. Dabi steps into the closet, the floor in this room carpeted with a thicker, plusher pale pink than the dull gray of the rest of their room. Three of the walls are covered with built-in drawers, racks, shelves, and cabinets to organize all of the things that they could ever need during play, from dildos, restraints, collars, and lube to leather, lingerie and heels.

Dabi goes over to the section that is absolutely lined from end to end with... girl clothes. He had just about killed Tomura when he suggested it, but after having to safe word out of half a dozen scenes, and then dropping two times he pushed himself to keep them going when his head just could not get to where it needed to be, he was ready to try anything. Becoming Tomura's baby girl had not been something he thought he would like, but it... worked for him. Dabi knows what he is and what he's not, and having Tomura treat him so differently during their play when he already innately knew that he was wearing a costume had helped him to get his head on board with the kinks they were exploring more than any amount of negotiation ever had. So when Tomura tells him to get pretty, he knows that it's time for him to stop being him and for Dabi to start... being Daddy's baby girl.

With how heavy his head has been for the past week, Dabi is more than ready to make things easier for himself by being Daddy's girl now, and he picks out his undergarments first. Different ones usually tell his Daddy what kinds of play he wants. The black strappy ones tell him that he wants him to be mean to him, the red ones beg for him to romance him and give him more pleasure than he thinks that his body can take, the white ask for him to be the one to corrupt him 'first', but Dabi passes over all of those and goes for the bubble gum pink set. His head is too big and heavy and he wants to be stupid for the weekend. He wants his body to feel good and to be able to look at himself and pretend that he's pretty. So he picks out a thin lacy pair of panties that make his cock and balls look so cute inside of them and a pink and white bra with push-up demi cups, the pillow-soft padding pushing the muscle of his chest up so that he looks softer there like he has a cute pair of tits nearly spilling over the edge of the cup trimmed with pink lace. He can't help running his hands up over his chest, biting his lower lip as he sees how much the undergarments alone have already changed how he looks and have made his head feel a little lighter. He can be cute like this.

Dabi loves to go through the rest of the clothes. Daddy sometimes lets him go on shopping sprees with his credit cards, but sometimes he just buys him boxes of new clothes that Dabi doesn't get to see until he picks them out. It makes him feel so spoiled as he gets to walk up and down the rows and select his baby girl clothes for the day. Dabi's whole body goes hot when he sees the micromini skirt that has a little white petticoat attached to the underside that he knows will show his Daddy his ass if he moves at all and he takes that off of the hanger and shimmies into it, before picking a garter, ruffled headband, white stockings, and a pair of pretty heels that he has to sit on the big pink heart-shaped ottoman to put on. They make his legs look nice and push his weight onto his toes, giving him the illusion of a fuller butt beneath the skirt. He's so cute like this and he's a little giddy as he goes over to the vanity. He's already giggling to himself when he realizes that he can't actually pull his skirt low enough to sit on, his panties against the stool as he reaches for his makeup and perfume to make all of him softer.

He adds a fruity scent to his skin to soften the stressful tang of smoke that has been clinging to him after having to be responsible for so long while his Daddy was gone. Then he makes sure that his lashes are curled and there's mascara making them thicker and fuller, making his eyes pop, and covering his lips in a fruity pink sparkly gloss that makes his skin soft. He looks so cute like this. Toga would be jealous of how many cute clothes he has, how cute he gets to be when his Daddy takes care of him. He doesn't know when his Daddy is going to finish with things elsewhere and it's too hard to think about finding wherever he threw his phone when he got into the room, so Dabi stays at his vanity and picks out one of his pretty sparkly nail polishes too and starts to work on those as well.

When they're all painted and all that's left is for him to wait for the top coat to fully cure, he gets up from the vanity and goes out into the rest of their bedroom. Daddy still isn't there and Dabi huffs and throws himself onto their black leather couch, trying to take the remote between his palms so that he doesn't mess up his nails. It's still hard to hit the right button to turn it on, and he immediately starts to scroll through the channels. The TV is always left on the news, but that makes his head full and he knows that baby girls are supposed to have empty heads and holes for their Daddies to fill. So he can't watch something like that. So he clicks through the channels, flitting between a shopping program and a saucy magical girl show that's only on one of the special channels his Daddy got on this TV for them to enjoy. Dabi wonders if his Daddy would buy him all of the pretty sparkly jewelry being advertised and then make him feel good with only that glittering on his body, but then they start to talk about a new air fryer and he switches to the magical girl show and watches as the domineering villain catches the hero with their legs spread wide around a bench that morphs into an undulating snake that starts to move through the city streets. The movements of the snake rub against the hero's crotch, sending waves of pleasure through them as they try to struggle out of their restraints and stop themself from getting so visibly aroused by the treatment as the villain lets the whole city see how humiliated and needy the hero actually is when it comes down to it. Tha has Dabi's clit starting to harden in his panties and he starts to squirm on the couch reaching down to palm himself through his panties. The soft lace puts so much texture against him as he squeezes himself and lets out a moan from how good that feels.

"Already emptying that pretty head for me, princess?" Daddy asks as he shuts and locks their door. Dabi immediately squeezes himself again, spreading his legs wider so Daddy can see how cute he looks in his pretty clothes he bought him.

"Uh-huh."

"Did you finish sending that memo to everyone?" He asks as he starts to loosen his tie.

Dabi blinks, his hand falling away from his crotch, "Yeah, Duster, wha--"

Daddy clicks his tongue with clear derision. "Not empty enough yet, but that's okay, baby girl. Daddy is going to help you become the stupid, needy slut that you were made to be."

Heat rushes fresh through his body, his clit starting to harden and his nipples pebbling inside of his bra as he lets out another needy moan at just the suggestion. Yes, yes, he wants that. He wants to be nothing but empty holes for his Daddy to fill. Daddy goes into the closet and Dabi sits up a bit more on the couch, checking to make sure his nails are dry so he doesn't make any messes that might distract him. When Daddy comes back out he's holding a new toy and a small case. It's a black pillow made of a velvety material that he recognizes as the waterproof kind that their favorite blanket is made of, and it has a strange plastic hole in the center.

"I know that your head gets filled with so many thoughts when Daddy isn't here to make sure that you stay pretty and stupid, princess." He says, leaning down to press a kiss to Dabi's temple before he starts to arrange the cushion on the couch. Daddy then unzips the carrying case and takes out a dildo much smaller than his cock and Dabi pouts. He's gotten so spoiled from having his Daddy's cock that anything smaller feels like a punishment. Tomura chuckles when he sees his expression, "On your hands and knees, baby girl." He gives the order as he locks the dildo into the plastic housing on the pillow. Dabi immediately moves into the position he wants, and Daddy rubs his hands along his ass, his gloves already in place so he doesn't have to worry about Dabi hurting himself if he does something stupid like moaning and spreading his legs wider as he pushes back to try to get his Daddy to touch his pussy sooner. The biting slap that comes down over one cheek only makes his clit twitch hard in his panties and Dabi can't help how hot it makes him.

Daddy doesn't even take his panties off, he just uses one hand to stretch them to the side, his other squirting icy lube against his hole so he's nice and wet for him. But he doesn't unzip his pants and give Dabi what he wants. Instead he presses a finger inside of him, making sure his insides are wet too and Dabi tries to entice him more by heating his body a little more with his quirk. That has Daddy pulling that finger out so he can land a spanking right against Dabi's pussy.

"Naughty girl. Thinking you can manipulate me. Thinking," he clicks his tongue derisively and Dabi whimpers. "It's a good thing I came home when I did, otherwise you would have forgotten completely that good sluts aren't supposed to think."

"I'm sorry, Daddy." He chirps, resisting the urge to push himself back into the touches so he can get more.

"You're not going to be anything but an aching clit and a dripping cunt for me, soon, princess." Tomura promises him. "Because you're going to sit right here," He pulls Dabi up again and has him position himself over the smaller dildo. "You're going to sit here and watch the pretty colors on screen while your pussy gets all warmed up for Daddy's cock." He says before reaching back into the carrying case and taking out a little bullet vibrator. "You're going to tease your cute little clit until you're all wet in your panties and Daddy is sure that you don't have any thoughts rattling around in your head." Dabi's body goes warmer as his Daddy tells him what to do. "But if you cum before I give you permission, then Daddy is going to have to punish you, baby girl."

"Okay, Daddy."

"Good girl. Now let Daddy see you stretch your pussy."

Dabi eagerly holds his panties aside as he sinks down on the false cock, letting it start to stretch him in a much less satisfying way than he knows his Daddy's cock will when he gets it. Then Daddy gives him the bullet and lets him turn it on. The vibrations that start to go through him as he reaches to rub it against his head has another moan immediately tumbling from his lips as his Daddy moves so he can see the TV again. He would have pouted as he realizes that Tomura is going to shower and change if not for the fact his Daddy takes one more thing out, a little black remote from his pocket. He clicks that on and Dabi keens as the pillow starts to move beneath his spread legs, the dildo starting to fuck into his hole slowly. He starts to move in time with it, his clit hardening so much his skirt is tenting and his panties are stretched as he starts to make himself feel so good.

///

Dabi isn't sure how long his Daddy has left him like this. He doesn't know how many episodes of this show have flashed over the screen or how to count the number of times he's had to take the bullet away from his clit. His whole head is foggy, his body trembling. There is smoke leaking from his seams and the heat of his quirk is making his skin glisten with a thin sheen of sweat as his clit aches. His balls are so tight and the dildo inside of him has rendered his wall so sensitive that every slow mechanical thrust is leaving him on the verge of tears. He wants to cum so badly, but he can't. Daddy said he had to wait. But it's so hard to remember that when his whole body is so tight from forcing himself away from his completion again and again.

He keeps running the bullet along himself, having to touch different parts of his oversensitive flesh so that he doesn't spill without permission, but the sharper that the vibrations begin to feel against him, the less he remembers that he's supposed to stop. Or, rather, the less he cares. He wants to feel good. Good girls bounce on cocks, they let their pussies do the thinking for them, they get to feel good all of the time. Dabi is a good girl. He's so cute when he sees himself in the reflection of the screen whenever it goes dark between scenes. He's cute, and good, and he is so, so horny. He wants to be allowed to feel good. Dabi feels himself getting close again and he can't make himself take the bullet away or try to angle himself up so that the toy inside of him isn't rocking so deliciously against his aching prostate anymore. He keeps the toys right where they are and he chases that good, good feeling that he's been starving himself of for the past however long he's been here.

He is just about to tip over that final edge before both toys abruptly turn off completely. Dabi cries out, trying to push the dildo deeper inside of his pussy, trying to find a button on any part of the bullet, tears filling his eyes as his foggy head fails to make sense of what's happening. He was so, so close. He just needed a little more--

"Are you really such a stupid little bimbo that all of Daddy's orders leaked out of your ears like how your pre soaked your panties?"

Just hearing Daddy's voice has him moaning, arching back against the couch so that he can rest his neck against the back of it and look up at him. Daddy's long hair is wet from his shower, his chest bare, and he smells so good that all he wants to do is shove his face against his skin as he brings their bodies as close together as he can.

Daddy doesn't make him try to speak, reaching down to take the bullet from his hand and then rubbing his fingers along Dabi's clit through the lace that is sticky and so wet from how many times he's gotten so close that there is a puddle on the cushion where he's been riding the toy. "But you did get all wet for Daddy without cumming, which means that you don't have to be punished."

"Thank you, Daddy," he chirps automatically. He doesn't like it when he gets punished. Not when that means he doesn't get to feel good the way that Daddy always makes him when he's good.

"Take off your panties, baby girl." Daddy tells him, straightening up so that he can come around the side of the couch.

Dabi tries to move quickly, but his legs are so weak from riding the toy that it takes him a second to even just stand. And when he does, he nearly collapses into Tomura, but thankfully his Daddy is so strong and sure that he catches him. Dabi can't help giggling as he teeters a little on his heels and that makes Daddy smile too.

"My ditzy little girl."

"Uh-huh," He agrees, but manages to get his feet under him so that Daddy can sit on the couch. Tomura was only in a towel, and he sheds that as he sits, letting Dabi see every inch of him. His whole brain feels hot and soupy as his eyes drag along his Daddy's body. Over the swell of his pecks, the strong line of his shoulders, his thick arms, cut stomach, the sharp v of his hips that lead the eye to muscular thighs and the thick, long cock that hangs between them. Dabi's pussy can't actually drip just from seeing him, but he knows that it would if it could. As is, his clitty is twitching in his panties again, and he needs to get out of the scrap of lace that is confining him now. As he shimmies the soaked fabric off of him, trying to do it without getting the icky mess on his stockings or shoes, Daddy opens the lube and pours some into his own palm, reaching for his pretty cock and starting to stroke himself as he watches Dabi partially strip.

"You look so cute like this, princess. Turn around."

Dabi is more than eager to turn for him, giving a little spin that makes him stumble on his weak legs before he fully turns away from Tomura.

"Bend over, baby girl. Let Daddy see how pink your pussy is."

Dabi has to brace one hand against the coffee table as he folds over at the waist immediately, his other one going to his ass as he feels his skirt pull up to expose most of him. He doesn't bother trying to tug it down, he wants to show Daddy how hungry his pussy is, and he spreads his cheek open with the other hand, feeling some of the lube from the dildo slip out and drip along his taint.

"Mm, so cute, all pink and puffy like that, princess. Daddy is going to make you do the same thing when he's all finished filling up your slutty little holes. Gonna take a picture and make it the background on all of your devices so that every time you open one, you remember that you're not supposed to be anything but my needy little cumdump."

"Daddy," it's not a protest. It's a moan, a plea, as he has to quickly lift his hand from the table to push his skirt hard against his clit as it gushes another stream of pre as the thought of never forgetting this makes him so warm.

"Did that get you so close, princess?" Daddy's voice is mocking, but when he looks over his shoulder to nod weakly, he sees that he's smiling. "Okay, baby girl, come here."

Dabi straightens up right away, his skirt pushed up around his clit that's so hard that he's going to turn purple soon, as Daddy leans over the back of the couch to pull another box up from the other side. He stands in front of his Daddy, trying so hard to think through the fog enough to find his words. "I wanna be yours Daddy."

Tomura pauses with one hand in the box. "You're already mine, princess."

"Like this." He admits, feeling warmth in his cheeks as he plays with one of the layers of his little skirt.

"Oh?" He stops stroking himself, his cock hard now and making Dabi's head dizzy with arousal as he licks his lips, knowing that he will taste so good if he takes him into his mouth instead of his aching cunt. Tomura wraps his hand around Dabi's hip and pulls him between his spread thighs. "You want to be Daddy's just like this? Not the scheming little brat, just Daddy's good, dumb, horny slut that doesn't think about anything but getting his pussy filled?"

He can't hide how badly he wants that when his whole body trembles and Daddy can see how the words immediately have thick drops of pre beading on his head and dripping over his skin.

"You can be Daddy's dumb slut all the time, princess." He purrs. "But you'll have to be trained properly. Right now you're such a needy little bitch, you wouldn't be able to walk around in all of your cute little outfits without being tricked into letting someone else touch you and you're Daddy's set of holes."

"I'll be good, Daddy."

"We're going to see about that. I have something that you'd need to wear until I know that you wouldn't let anyone else touch, and so I know that my silly little girl won't get so distracted from his own cute clit that he touches himself without permission. If you can wear it for the rest of the weekend, then Daddy will let you wear some of your princess clothes out on Monday."

"Okay, Daddy!" He agrees immediately. He wants to wear more of his cute clothes. He wants to have his pussy filled. He wants to have his skirts on so that Daddy can decide when he wants him wherever they are and he can bend over for him to fill or drop to his knees right there so he can get his mouth splattered with his cum.

The smile Daddy gives him is so sweet the second before the grip on his hip goes bruising. It goes so tight to keep him in place as Daddy takes the ice pack from the box and presses it directly to his clit and balls, the heat of Dabi's skin so intense and the sharpness of the chill so bright that a hiss goes through the air before he squeals as it instantly starts to melt against him. The cold bites at his princess parts and makes his arousal from there ebb so sharply that Dabi's eyes are filling with tears and his whole mind goes cloudy with heartbreak. He was being a good girl, wasn't he? So why is his Daddy hurting him like this?

The sob that tears out of him is shushed by his Daddy. "It's okay, baby girl. Daddy just wants to see you little."

He doesn't want to be little, he wants to cum, but then Daddy takes away the ice pack when he's all soft and as small as he can go from how badly his body reacted to the cold. Before he can find words, Daddy exchanges the pack for a pink silicone... thingy. Dabi hasn't seen a thing like that before. It looks like a little cup with a ring on one side of it and a little slit going through the tip. Daddy pulls him closer again and he slips his clitty into the tube part before the ring goes around his balls. The tube is textureless inside and once his balls are in place and the sleeve is pulled to the right position, Dabi is squirming again because it feels... little. Not too tight, but it's hugging every part of his clit and he doesn't understand what this toy is for. Daddy uses a little pink padlock to snap the two pieces together and lock them in place. He looks down, reaching for the hem of his skirt so he can see that his clit has been pressed small and tight to his body in a way he hasn't ever had done before. It looks... different.

"There, princess, look at how cute you are in that pretty pink clit cage." Daddy coos at him.

Dabi manages a sniffle. "Cute?" The rest of the words flow through his mind and out the other ear.

Daddy smiles so sweetly. "Absolutely adorable, baby girl. So cute that Daddy doesn't want to wait to have your tight little pussy any more. Come here, precious, in my lap. Daddy wants to watch your pretty tits bounce."

The compliments make his head feel much softer than it did a minute ago and he climbs into Daddy's lap eagerly. He's even happier when he doesn't have to lift himself into the right position. His Daddy is so strong now with all of his special quirks, so Daddy lifts him, hooking Dabi's knees over his shoulders, and bracing him with one hand against his thigh and the other arm supporting him around his lower back. Then he starts to lower Dabi down onto his cock like he's nothing but a fucktoy. Dabi moans at the first press of his thick head against his hole, the sharpness of the ice and strangeness of the clit cage enough to have distracted him from how badly his insides wanted to be stretched properly after being teased with the little toy for so long.

That arousal comes flooding back now but... it can't go to his clit. Dabi keens, looking down at his heaving chest as Daddy sinks him all the way along his length so hard that his tits really do bounce. Dabi gets distracted by the movement for a second, liking the way that he looks in the push-up bra as he jiggles. But then Daddy draws him back up and slams him right back down. The movement of the toy had been slow and aiming to abuse his prostate constantly, but now he's so worked up that these harder, deeper thrusts, brush past it and make him see stars as those untouched, unstretched parts of his pussy are made to take the brunt of the stimulation now. And it's good, it's so, so good, but it doesn't have his clit filling after being chilled. It has his whole body tingling hotter because his arousal can't go where he's used to it. Dabi wants to find words, wants to figure out how he's supposed to cum with the cage on, but Daddy doesn't slow down. He pushes in harder and harder on every thrust, faster and faster as he drags Dabi's body down into them rather than letting gravity take any of the work.

All he can do is moan, reaching for Daddy's hair, tangling his fingers in it and getting even louder when he manages to drag him in closer so that Daddy puts his mouth on his bouncing tits. He catches the center of the bra between his teeth and tugs it down as he lifts Dabi high along his cock, making his tits pop out over the top of the cups when he's tugged back down roughly a second later. With his nipples exposed, Daddy wastes no time in bringing his mouth there, sucking and tugging his piercings with his teeth until his tits are aching almost as badly as his clit that still isn't being allowed to get hard in the tight silicone that is trapping it. Dabi doesn't know if he's ever whined and howled at the way his body feels as he's made to experience his arousal in a completely new way, but every pulse of pleasure through his body that isn't allowed to go to his clit heightens the sensations elsewhere.

He wants to cum so badly, he's wanted to cum for forever now, surely. It's been years at this point, surely, but Daddy doesn't let him. The tight hold on his clit doesn't let him. He just has to writhe as his tits are tortured and his cunt is fucked so roughly, so perfectly, his whole body folded in on himself so that he can be made the perfect toy to satisfy his Daddy's needs. He likes to be used for his needs, so when Daddy keeps fucking him hard as Dabi's own frustration sends sharp tears along his cheeks again, he does get a little relief and satisfaction when Tomura's mouth shifts from his tits to his cheeks so that he can lick away the bloody tracks of tears before he fucks up into him hard one more time before Dabi is mewling as he's filled with Daddy's cum. His whole body is so hot that the thick splash of his seed spilling deep feels cool inside as he is held in place to be pumped full.

"Mm, fuck, princess. Love your pussy so much, don't know how I'm going to get anything done if you're walking around so eager to get filled like this again. Maybe Daddy will need to buy you a few longer skirts so that you can sit in his lap all throughout our meetings. Gonna have to teach you to be quiet if I do though, because I don't think my stupid little slut will be able to stop himself from babbling to everyone about how much he likes to warm his Daddy's cock."

Tomura just came, but Dabi still hasn't been allowed to and he is trembling hard in his lap, sobbing with his need as his hand goes down to his clitty. He tries to tug at the tight ring around his balls, the tighter sleeve that keeps him small and soft no matter how badly he wants to cum, and neither budge. When he can't get them off he tries to rub himself, squeeze himself, through the silicone, and Daddy laughs at his desperation.

"You have to keep it on if you want to stay Daddy's little slut forever." He teases. "You're practicing to be a good girl on Monday, aren't you, baby girl?"

"I wanna cum, Daddy," he whines desperately. "I wanna feel good." It's sheer petulance when he keeps trying to rub himself off fruitlessly as he sobs. "Dumb whores are supposed to feel good! Pretty princesses are supposed to get spoiled!" He's supposed to be both of those things. He made himself a pretty princess for Daddy today by picking out his pink panties. He made himself dumb by emptying his head of anything but the gratification that he's been craving for so long now. He wants to have what he was promised right now!

Daddy laughs at him and makes Dabi squeal as he sinks two fingers into his pussy right alongside his softening cock. The extra stretch has Dabi keening, his toes curling as he feels some of Tomu's cum gush out of his abused pussy. But then those fingers are crooking and rubbing. Like the toy before, they find his prostate and start to prod at it relentlessly. "You're going to do something else today, baby girl. Daddy is going to show you something that will make you even better at being his good little slut. Something that will make him so happy and that will make sure that your needy body learns that it only gets to feel good when Daddy says so. This way you won't ever get so distracted from your own tits or how cute you are and start to touch yourself. You want to be a perfect little slut for Daddy, don't you?" Daddy doesn't wait for his response, rubbing his fingers inside of him deliberately again. "Don't worry baby girl, you don't actually have to listen to any of that, I know it would be too much for you to process right now when Daddy's made sure that your pussy is so full and your head is nice and empty."

Dabi keens in response, rocking down harder on the fingers as best he can, his head is too foggy to make sense of Daddy's words. He just wants whatever pleasure he can get from him.

"Come on, princess," he coos, "Just let go. You aren't anything but what I make you now. And I want to see my little girl squirt."

His body doesn't feel the same way it ever has before when his arousal peaks. It doesn't send pleasure pulsing along his clit, it doesn't even feel like the good, satisfying full-body sensation that comes from when his Daddy makes him cum from his pussy instead. No, this sends that heat that was burning up under his skin to deep inside of him, aching at his root even though his clit is still held soft in the cage, before he's letting out a higher pitched, embarrassed moan as all of the sudden his clit is spilling everywhere. It doesn't pulse out a few spurts of thick white cum, instead a thin pearly liquid starts to stream from the hole at the tip of his cage, Daddy shifting their positions then to lay Dabi back against the couch as he keeps rubbing his fingers hard against his swollen prostate with one hand and his other, now free, hand reaches to his clit and teases his slit as he spills, and spills, and spills. Dabi's whole body trembles as he makes a big mess, so much more fluid coming out of him than he's ever felt before and leaving him absolutely breathless as the burn of arousal in him only seems half satisfied when it finally stops.

"Mm, there, such a good little whore. Spread yourself open for Daddy, baby girl." Tomu demands as he pulls his fingers out of his hole and wipes his cum off on Dabi's skirt. He feels so dazed, but he follows the instructions automatically, one leg falling open so far it slips off the edge of the couch. Dabi reaches down and makes sure his pussy is as spread as it can be, shivering as he feels how wet he is, soaked with everything that came out when he... squirted, and all of Daddy's cum spilling out too. Daddy reaches over for his phone and doesn't hesitate to take pictures of him while he's so dazed and messy. "There, baby girl. You look so cute like that." He sets the device aside and then regards the huge mess that they've made of the couch.

It's a sharp relief when Daddy doesn't try to make him put his head back on straight, instead standing so that he can lean down and pluck Dabi from the couch.

"I know it's going to take more than one time to make sure my baby girl is trained properly. But that's okay, I think that you still have enough energy for Daddy to smudge your pretty lipstick, don't you, princess?"

Dabi doesn't even really hear the words. He just sees his Daddy smiling down at him sweetly and nods along. His head is too empty to try to think for himself. It's such a good thing he has a Daddy to do it for him instead.

///

Thank fucking god Duster doesn't take the shit he does when he's completely in bimbo mode to heart without actually checking in with him, because Dabi would have killed them both if he'd come out of the headspace in the middle of a meeting when one of the other lieutenants said something stupid only to realize he was dressed like a girl. Thank god he can say 'no' to the things he might have said 'yes' to when he was absolutely desperate for all of the good floaty feelings that come for him when he's in his subspace. So when Monday rolls around he is back to doing his work with the efficiency that he always has, in his usual villain gear.

But maybe it's just another testament to how completely Tomura has thrown a monkey wrench into his plans for himself and who he thought he would be leading up to his death, because beneath his dark pants, the soft pair of pink satin panties and the tight cock cage that is keeping him cute and small for his Daddy are keeping him aware of what else he'll become whenever he has a chance.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed please consider leaving a comment/ask. If you'd like to get a commission, consider checking out my guidelines at the bottom of my pinned post! Commissions are half price until the end of March!

#my writing #shigadabi

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miss-vanta-likes-to-write · 3 months ago

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I heard it is WIP Wednesday? That's a thing we do? Anyway so like here's a screen shot. It's taking a long time to write this out, it most certainly will be more than a 2 shot that you all voted on.

Snippet below the cut ✂️

John Price married you just four months into your relationship. He was like a man who stepped out of your dreams, sweet, chivalrous, smart, strong, and he didn't believe in the idea of a woman spending her own money. The sex was mind blowing, he readily got tested with you on week two of your relationship when he asked if you both could be intimate, and of course, you both came out clean. Your IUD was still fresh and so condoms were never used unless you didn't want to deal with the mess...condoms were never used because he dealt with clean up for you.

You both had goals you wanted to reach. He wanted to go a little farther in his military career, maybe rank up two more times, and make sure his boys got promotions before he took a desk position. You wanted to work on your small business and grow it a bit more before stepping back so you both could start your family. He and you talked and fantasized at length about what your kids would be like. And yes, it was kids. You wanted a full house because you grew up around siblings and cousins, and he wanted a full house because his vision for life just seemed like it was right.

It all came crashing down, though, when you and him sat in the doctor's office. Your body ice cold as you stared at the polite old man. "I'm sorry, say that again?"

John holds your hand and squeezes it. Brows pinched together in concern. He presses himself against you to comfort you and ground you. He, as always, is your pillar.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Price, but you have a hormone imbalance that is contributing to your issues with conceiving." He pauses as you break down into tears. Watches passively as John soothes you. "But we live in the present, and we can start you on hormones to help the process or explore other avenues. I'll have Gloria give you some pamphlets on your options."

John holds on to you as you try to regulate. This is good, this is great, you both have options.

John and the doctor share a knowing look as you hurry to go speak with Gloria about the pamphlets. The doctor wants to speak with John privately.

"John...I don't normally do this. Lie to my patients, but I do owe you and Simon one for getting my boy home. Me and my staff will make sure you get your family."

John smiles and nods along, "Thank you. It would break her heart if she knew, and everything I've ever wanted would be snatched up rather quickly."

Everyone who is helping knows that John Price can't have babies.

#black!reader #wip wednesday #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #call of duty fanfic #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #simon riley #call of duty fic

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why-animals-do-the-thing · 5 months ago

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perhaps a bit of an odd question: so, when I'm scrolling tumblr on mobile, I have a habit of downloading most images i come across, so that I can send them to people who don't use tumblr, especially memes and animal photos. however, i also have severe memory issues, and I may end up forgetting where i got certain images. i know for the photo repository one of the rules is to not repost the photos without any modification- which i might forget, or forget which images on my phone fall under that rule. and while i would guess that that rule doesn't apply to stuff like direct messages or texts, i might forget to tell the person I'm sending it to, who might repost it elsewhere without being aware, or months after downloading i will just forget and use one of the photos in a post I'm making because it felt relevant.

this is something i can pretty easily solve myself by just blocking the photo repository blog, or tags relating to it, but I'd rather not do that because i do really like seeing the photos and all the info and stuff. and i would assume it would be an insane amount of work for you to add something like a watermark to every single photo, so I'm not really sure how to go about this. i like seeing the photos, but i don't want to accidentally break the rules.

You clearly care deeply about doing the "right thing", so, what that tells me is that you're not actually the target audience for that rule. I appreciate all the thought you put into this message. Let's talk about it!

I've been reconsidering if requiring people to get permission for reposting images is the best policy to have and I'd like people to weigh in.

My original reasoning was this: the more I can ensure that reposts are affiliated with credit, the better I can control copyright on the images on the site, and therefore have more ground to challenge any scrapers/fake accounts/AR groups that yoink them for nefarious purposes. The easiest way to do that seemed to be to have people ping and ask, with the expectation of saying yes almost all the time.

But there's a couple problems with that, I think, in practice:

People don't like emailing strangers (I forget this! I have done it for work for so many years it isn't uncomfortable anymore).

This isn't how the internet works. (Tumblr has a specific microculture that encourages crediting creators and not stealing! Once this is shared more widely on other platforms, I don't expect it'll be the same ecosystem).

It actually undermines organic spread of content! (You're less likely to make an excited post about a cool photo if you have to send a maybe-scary email and wait for a response). And I do want there to be lots of eyeballs on the photos.

Realistically, @nexus-nebulae, with the policy right now? If you slipped up and reposted something without thinking, I'd just ask you to add credit to the post so it directs back to the site. The goal of this whole project is community access and engagement - I want to you to enjoy the photos, and send them to your friends! I'm just trying to also protect it from the awful that a lot of the internet has become.

But, I'm also wondering it it makes sense to swap the policy to say that it's fine to re-post images on socials as long as they're appropriately credited and/or linked back to the repository. This isn't the policy yet, but if you're reading this please tell me what you're thinking.

Non-edited image use (like putting them in a scientific paper, using them to build a curriculum unit, or putting them on board game cards - these are just random examples) would still need to be requested; but that's an entirely protective stance and if you ask, my goal is to always say yes.

So OP, please don't worry too much. Enjoy looking at the animals, do your best, and I'll be happy. :)

#exotic animal photo reference repository #asked and answered #housekeeping #policies

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futuremrsreid · 1 month ago

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Love Like Ghosts - Chapter One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Hotchner!Reader

Warnings: Angst, flirty talk, Spencer isn’t an asshole he’s just deeply traumatized

A/N: Bear in mind, English isn’t my first language. This one is short, I guess it’s more of a prologue. Read this post for backstory on the reader

"I'm back in DC. Will you meet me for coffee tomorrow? At 3 p.m., the usual place? I heard you guys are on official time-out for a few weeks."

I waited 5 hours and 30 minutes, but no reply came. Good thing I didn't care about sounding desperate.

"Please, Spencer. I just want to talk."

"I'll be there."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My fingers nervously fiddled with the menu laid out before me. The clock at the small café showed me the same time my phone already did. 2:55 pm. 5 minutes before we said we would meet, but for Spencer, that meant he was late. And since the last at least dozen times we had met here, he was always 10 minutes early.

I figured he didn't necessarily want to see me, but I never thought he would stand me up.

Maybe he had changed. I haven't seen him in so long, and from the snippets I had managed to get out of my dad, 3 months in prison did a number on him. My stomach churned at the thought.

Yet before my brain could spiral more, the small bell above the entrance rang, and Spencer Reid entered. His eyes scanned the few tables until he finally saw me.

I awkwardly waved at him, immediately chastising myself under my breath.

I felt like I couldn't breathe for the seconds it took for him to walk over. And when he finally sat down, my breath was still caught in my lungs.

His hair was longer and messy, his face pale and unshaven. Beautiful, like always, but in a devastatingly sad way.

"Hi", I said, voice cracking uncharacteristically. He noticed immediately.

"Hey", his reply was soft, despite his intense gaze on me.

"Thank you for coming. I won't hold you long. I get that you maybe don't really want to talk to me, but my dad told me what happened, and I just-", I stopped, not knowing how to put it without sounding desperate. "He said you were fine, but I wanted to see for myself."

"And?" his one-word reply came. I wasn’t sure how to handle this, to handle him. But I was never afraid to be honest with him, and I wouldn't start now.

"Well, either you have been lying to everybody, or you have been lying to yourself and everybody. You're clearly not fine." I could see that he didn't appreciate my answer, but we both knew I was right. He leaned back in his seat.

"Why wouldn't I want to talk to you?"

"What?"

"You said you'd get that I maybe wouldn't want to talk to you. Why would you think that?"

"Well, I-", I paused, unsure about what to say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

7 months ago

"Thank you for driving me home. I'm still embarrassed that you had to pick me up there. As I've told you at least 10 times now, I usually don't go there."

"What? You usually don't spend your free time in dirty sticky bars? Who would've thought...", he was barely able to hide his grin, but when I jokingly hit his shoulder in fake offense, he chuckled.

"No, and you know....Usually, I try to be the dirtiest and stickiest thing in a bar, which would be unachievable in a place like that." I joked and flashed him a mischievous grin, taking note of the redness spreading on his face.

"I hope you know that that's an extremely odd goal to have."

My reply came in a giggle and the rattling of my keys as I pushed them into the lock of my apartment door.

"Wanna come in? I can make you a cup of tea. I add ginger to it. It's actually famous in my family." He had never been in my apartment before. It was a line we hadn't crossed, and I wasn't sure he even wanted to. But when I opened the door and turned back around to him, there was a kind of longing in his eyes. Confirmation came in the form of a nod, his body following mine inside.

It really shouldn't have felt as forbidden as it did. I wasn’t a child. We weren't doing anything illegal. Yet my skin prickled when I felt the heat of his body behind mine.

"This is exactly how I imagined your apartment. I like it, it fits you."

"You imagined how I live...Interesting fact, Dr. Reid." I walked towards my small kitchen to make the tea I had promised him. "You imagined what my bedroom looks like as well?" I heard him trip behind me.

"Did uh- Did you know someone's bedroom often reflects their personality because it’s in our nature to influence our environs to our choice and preferences. Over time, your bedroom reveals your personality and it develops a persona of its own. It's extremely improbable that any two bedrooms will look the same. So a tidy room can suggest a person is organized, detail-oriented, and perhaps even a bit of a perfectionist. Conversely, a messy room could indicate a more relaxed, less structured personality, or perhaps even a sign of underlying issues like disorganization or difficulty letting go of possessions."

"I bet you're just dying to see my bedroom to prove that theory." I flashed a grin at him over my shoulder, my hands busy preparing our tea.

"I mean, the more data is input into a statistic, the more accurate it becomes." I breathed a laugh and put a mug with steaming tea in front of him.

"Bold." When I looked up, I was surprised to see that he's holding my gaze. "Also sounds like the beginning of a very nerdy adult movie." Cheeks warmed and eyes shy away, and after a moment, mine did too. I busied myself with sips of my tea.

“You usually use humor and sarcasm to deflect. Something you want to talk about?”

“No, not really. I mean, getting left alone in a dirty bar because my friend decided to leave with some guy wasn’t necessarily nice, but…other than that, I’m fine. And while I normally use my humor to deflect, I also often use it just to unnerve you.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s fun. And it causes you to blush. And I just-” pause. I wasn’t sure if I should say it. But his eyes were expectantly following my every move, and so I set down my mug and took a step closer to him. “I guess I just like to cause a reaction in you.”

“But why?” His mug joined mine on the counter. We were suddenly so close that he would only have to raise his hand to touch me.

“Because…sometimes it feels like you try so hard not to have one. A reaction to me, I mean. Sometimes it feels like you distance yourself until you’re a thousand miles away, and the only way to reach you is to get you vulnerable enough so that my mind can touch yours. Even if it’s just for a moment.”

“Y/N I-” He sighed and looked away again. I could see it in his eyes, the distance.

“There! That is exactly what I mean. Why do you do that?” No answer came, so I grew frustrated. “Tell me why you won’t let me near.”

“Because I can’t!” His words were too loud for the tiny space we had created. “I just- I can’t.”

“But why?” My voice cracked on the words. It was quiet for another moment before I asked what I had been too afraid to ask this whole time. “Is it because I’m your boss’s daughter? Or is it because you think I’m too young for you?”

“That’s not-”

“Or is it because you’re too afraid to let someone in? Because if it is, I can understand that. Do you think this is easy for me? It’s not. But I-” He turned away suddenly.

“I should never have come inside. This isn’t good for either of us.” He turned away to leave, but I gripped his sweater with just enough force to stop him and turn towards me again. His eyes met mine and every word vanished from my mind. My defences were gone, and even if they weren’t, he wouldn’t listen to them anyway. So I did the only thing I could think of.

I rose up on my toes to kiss him, and his hands found the sides of my head like he had been waiting for it. Months of build-up came crashing down on us fast, but I felt alive. His lips were soft against mine, fingers buried in my hair.

We kissed until there was no air left in our lungs, and after that his lips moved to my jaw as the small of my back hit the kitchen counter.

A small moan escaped me from the impact, and everything shattered.

I felt the cold air before I registered him moving away. He was halfway across my apartment when I came to my senses and went after him.

“Spencer, wait-”

“I told you I can’t do this, Y/N. We can’t do this!” I opened my mouth but he took the words right out of my mouth. “Don’t ask me why. We just can’t.”

“But-” Weak pleas on deaf ears.

“No. I am not repeating myself. I don’t think we should keep meeting. It will get both of us hurt.”

“Spencer!” But he was already out the door.

The next days were spent with more desperate pleas sent via text.

“Call me back, please.”

“I just want to talk.”

“Spencer, please just call me back.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“You kissed me back like you wanted to.”

“Can we just talk about this, please?”

“Are you going to ignore me forever?”

“You know, I could just turn up at your work, right? I’m a Hotchner after all.”

“I shouldn’t have said that. I hope you know I would never do that.”

“But what about the next dinner party at Rossi’s? Are you gonna pretend I don’t exist?”

“Did that kiss truly mean nothing to you?”

The last message stung, sitting on read for days. But after three weeks, I managed to accept that it was over. Spencer Reid did not want me in his life. And as much as it hurt, I had to find a way to live with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You weren’t eager to talk to me before everything went to shit, so I figured it wouldn’t be any different now.” I finally said. My hands started fiddling with the menu again, our coffees cold and long forgotten. I could feel his eyes on me.

“The last time I saw you, you had a head injury and were terrified out of your mind. Of course, I wanted to see you. I wanted to make sure you’re alright too. I just- I didn’t know how to reach you and if you had your phone.” His confession made me look up to see his eyes already on me. I held his gaze for a moment, for about 3 heartbeats, before I forced a smile on my face.

“And?” I repeated his earlier question, trying to make it sound funny. From the look on his face, I hadn’t managed.

“Well, you seem physically fine. You’re nervous, but that's because of this situation. And the rest… I was never good at reading you, never knew what was going on in your head. I guess you get that from Hotch.” His hands reached out to take the menu from me, probably to keep me from accidentally ripping it. His fingers grazed my wrist unintentionally. I felt like I was going to burst into tears. “Will you tell me how you are?”

“Oh, I am fine. Like you promised all those months ago…Nothing happened to us, or me.”

“I hate to admit that I had no part in that.”

“You had other things to worry about.” I wasn’t sure if I could say it out loud. In prison for 3 months.

“Funny you say that, when in reality prison gave me too much time to worry about all of the things I couldn’t control. Like my mother getting sicker every day, and the fact that Scratch was still running around free, and I had no idea if you were okay.” My throat felt like it was getting tighter. I didn't expect him to worry so much.

“Penelope told me that your mother was better now. Is that not true?”

“No, it is. She's better now. But things were getting worse for a while, which was mainly my fault.” Self-deprecation and shame laced his words. “It's a long story, and also the story of how I got framed for murder in the first place. I don't feel like telling it.”

“That's okay. You don't have to tell me anything.” My words were almost a whisper. “Are you talking to someone at least?” He paused and leaned back in his seat slightly, guarded.

“Yes. My reinstatement requires mandatory therapy, if that's what you mean.”

“And how about a non-mandatory therapist? Because you and I both know you want to be reinstated and would keep things from them to achieve that.” I regretted my words the second they had left my mouth.

“Prentiss isn't worried, so neither should you.” Cold, harsh words, meant to throw me off, I'm sure.

“I'm not doubting your ability in the field, Spencer. I'm worried about you.”

“You don't think we are past that point?” I could see that he didn't really mean it, but he had said it nonetheless. And I knew he did it to hurt me. I swallowed down the tears that stung in my eyes.

“You just told me you worried about me while you were in prison. So why would you say that.” The hurt was visible in my voice.

“That's different.” His whole body tensed, arms crossing in front of him.

“How?”

“It just is.”

“That's not a real answer and you know it!” The sadness disappeared and was replaced by hot, burning anger. “ ‘It just is’, ‘I can't’, ‘Don't ask me why, we just can’t’.” I said, mocking his voice. Bile rose in my throat, but I pushed it down. “I am not a stupid child, Spencer. You don't get to treat me like one! You might think that you don't owe me these explanations, but you do!”

“I don't owe you anything, Y/N.” He said it with such certainty and resentment that I couldn't stop the tears from flooding. The other people in the cafe were looking our way when an involuntary sob left me. “Y/N, I-”

But the room suddenly felt too small, and the air too thick. I knew I had to leave now to keep at least some of my dignity. So I quickly grabbed my bag and scrambled out of the seat.

He called my name again, but I didn't want to hear anything else from him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid reader #criminal minds

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bidisasterevankinard · 4 months ago

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Write every day of 2025 (update)

Hi everyone, I don't know if you remember or not, but a lot of us started this year with "first lines of 2025" where we tried to write every day of 2025.

And I did! Every day of January I wrote at least 150 words and ended the month with 26,979 words written, 1 chapter of triplets, and 9 fics/ficlets published!!!!

And now i have the same idea for February and want you to join me, but to make it easier for you maybe you can try my hacks:

I have somewhat a schedule of fics I want to write (at least for example I plan to write triplets chapter, then fire powers, then this fic, then this fic)

If i feel inspired for specific fic I don't stop myself from writing it out of schedule

Don't try to make fic long if you can't. Make it even a one shot with specific scene you wanted and don't write 10k words around it

Use day goal, but make it small. Mine is 200 words. I tell myself "I'll write it and if i can't countie, I stop"

Have fun with fic you're writing. Step back from the one you're not happy about

Brainstorm or just talk with friends. Gabby, Via, Purple, Hippo, Cinda helped me a lot this month 💙

Write one shots if you feel writers block (ask people to send you smt)

Count anything that is about writing, especially on bad day. Any plot ideas you marked down that day count too if it's important (for example. I've wrote the post with new idea and i used it as base for the plot. I counted it as words bc it was long and important.)

If you make edits like mood boards or smt count it as writing if you can't write that day

And the last: don't be hard to yourself if you actually can't write. You don't own it to anyone 💙

Np tagging @mmso-notlikethat @hippolotamus @quintessenceofdust88 @theotherbuckley @lavenderleahy @leashybebes @laundryandtaxesworld @agentpeggycartering @aringofsalt @aplaceinme @midsummersmorn @monsterrae1 @devirnis @desert--moonchild @diazsdimples @powersuitup @hyperfocusthusly @racerchix21 @typicalopposite @wikiangela @loulou-land @catgirlcalling @exhaustedpirate @beanarie @sad-girl-hours23 and anyone who wants to try

#writer every day challenge

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tyrantisterror · 5 months ago

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At Sea Without a Map Post-Script

After two months of so, my little writing experiment At Sea Without a Map has come to an end. And because I'm vain, I not only felt compelled to share it, but to talk about it in depth after the fact, so here we are. This is going to be long, though, so I'm not only going to break it into sections, but put it all under the cut for the sake of your dashboard. So go ahead and dive into the depths of the Sea of Monsters with me one more time!

Part 1: Never Stop Blowing Up

The writing process of Wizard School Mysteries Book 3 was really strained - not because of the book itself, mind you. When I was actually able to work on it, Book 3 came together really well - I think it required the least substantial rewrites of any my novels thus far. It's just that real life was kind of beating the shit out of me while I was trying to get it done - or maybe the better metaphor was that it was just slowly but steadily draining me of energy all the time. I'm honestly surprised I got the book out in roughly the same amount of time as the first two - by the way life had been treating me, it should have taken longer.

But when I got done with it I was accutely aware of how tired I was. I still had the creative drive, but fuck I needed something simple as a palette cleanser - something easy, and more importantly, something that was allowed to be bad. I needed something creative to do that was surplus to requirements and fully within its rights to suck ass so long as I had fun making it.

Around this time, I decided to rewatch Dimension 20's Never Stop Blowing Up. Brief explanation of what that is: Dimension 20 is an actual play show, i.e. a recording of people playing D&D and other TTRPGs. I'd say its reputation is built on the contrast of its main DM, Brennan Lee Mulligan, who makes these meticulously crafted campaign plans, and his chaotic band of improv comedian players who promptly derail those plans spectacularly. Like, a good deal of the show's humor comes from Emily Ashford or Ally Beardsly doing something so off-the-wall that it shatters whatever the scene was going to be and creates a far more absurd and zany spectacle in its place. Which is why Never Stop Blowing Up is pretty notable, because it's the one campaign where Brennan himself is the agent of chaos, fully unleashing his own brand of madness that the players struggle to keep up with. And fuck does he seem to have fun with it.

Of course, all of the analysis above is purely from the outside looking in - it's likely that a lot of the "chaos" is played up for the audience. But still... there is something to the idea of a person who's been working on meticulously structured stories letting loose and just doing something extremely stupid.

So I decided to give myself a Never Stop Blowing Up moment - a short story that would be simple by design, with no standards to live up to or goal beyond "have fun telling a silly little story." I then came up with a few key criteria:

It can't be set in the Midgaheim/ATOM universe. I don't want the burden of figuring out where this story would fit among others.

It's gotta be a romance. People who've read my books might have picked up on the fact that I like to write about people falling in love, for the same reason I like to write about fire-breathing reptiles and friendly monsters (i.e. I use writing to indulge in things I'll never experience in real life). I've only used romance as subplots in my fiction before, and tend to feel a bit guilty if I focus on it too long - like I'm being self indulgent. Well, this is all about self indulgence, so the romance should be front and center.

It's gotta be SIMPLE, episodic even. Not complex plotting required.

I almost chose my xenomorph romance for this, but I had developed its outline to the point where it would be too complex to fit. I then considered a sort of superhero story that could be pitched as "what if Bringing Up Baby but Katherine Hepburn's character is a Harley Quinn-esque supervillain and Cary Grant's character gets turned into some sort of horrifying genetic mutant in the first ten minutes." That one hit a weird roadblock when I got to the character brainstorming phase (the first phase of any writing project I do) - I was trying to figure out what the mad scientist who turns out Cary Grant-figure into a mutant would be named, came up with the name "Dr. Skullfuck," immediately realized that having a character named "Dr. Skullfuck" is a Mark Millar-ass writing move that I could not allow myself to do, but then couldn't stop thinking of the name "Dr. Skullfuck" and giggling, which just brought all thinking to a grinding halt on that project.

(I'll still probably do it someday, though - just, you know, without Dr. Skullfuck)

Inspiration struck again, though. I'd been getting into Epic: The Musical, a musical retelling of The Odyssey, and it put me in the mood for a sea monster story. But, more than that, it got me thinking about one particular archetype from sea monster stories - but that brings us to the next part of this Post Script...

Part 2: It Was Always About Calibani

Ok, so, one of the big changes Epic: The Musical made involved Odysseus's encounter with the sirens, and before you read more of my rambling, I'd like you to watch two animatics for the two songs in question here:

youtube

A summary: one of the sirens takes the form of Odysseus's wife to try and tempt him into getting in the water, Odysseus tricks her into giving him directions, captures her and the rest of her kind, and proceeds to have his men slaughter them horribly. In the OG story the sirens don't die - nor does their song involve imitating a man's wife, for that matter, it's just a really pretty song.

This is done for an important narrative purpose - Epic: The Musical is focused on analyzing the moral ambiguity of Odysseus, and how it is constantly challenged by the impossible choices he is forced to make in his attempt to get home. At this point in the musical, Odysseus has decided to stop trying to be a compassionate man, shirking all mercy in favor of utter ruthless pursuit of his goals. These two songs are meant to be unsettling as hell - this is the beginning of a series of heartless choices by both Odysseus and his men that will culminate in the mutiny and complete annihilation of Odysseus's crew, as well as Odysseus himself being so hopelessly stranded that nothing short of divine intervention will save him.

I bring this up because when I first heard these two songs - specifically while watching these two animatics - it, like... it devastated me. I was so horrified and sad, so shaken by it. And part of it was for the reasons outlined above, but admittedly that wasn't the gut reaction I had. No, my immediate reaction was, and I quoute my own broken brain verbatim here: "You can't kill the sirens! They're not for killing, they're for loving!"

...now, those of you who know me are probably not surprised by this very stupid sentiment coming from me. One of my more popular posts is just me talking about how down bad I would be for various folkloric monsters whose whole shtick is "looks like a pretty lady but Watch Out." But as a person filled with immense self loathing and doubt, my brain immediately looked at that very stupid sentiment I expressed and said, "Wait, no, that's fucking dumb, I'm fucking dumb. The sirens are remorseless murderers. These sirens in particular preyed upon a man's love for his wife, who he has not seen in twelve years, to convince him to let them kill him. They are, by all standards of morality, Very Fucking Evil, and if they were not women you would not feel bad about them getting killed."

And as my brain argued with itself over this topic, I got to thinking about the various monstrous/othered sea women of The Odyssey - not just the sirens, but the witch Circe, the nymph Calypso, the monsters Scylla and Charybdis. And I thought about the others of their kind in other myths and folktales - selkies, mermaids, etc.

There's an archetype of sea monster that focuses entirely on one specific anxiety sailors are prone to, namely the fact that (for a good deal of human history) being on a boat meant spending a lot of time away from women. The horror of this monster is how it uses that desire for female company to tempt people into danger - like a mirage, it leads you to expose yourself to danger in pursuit of an illusory comfort.

But, unlike real world mirages, these monstrous sea women DO exist in their stories. More than that, they're often, like, sad and lonely. Their narrative purpose is just to be a temptation, but that doesn't change the fact that they do have lives of their own in these worlds. And, softie that I am, I can't help feeling sad for them, especially the ones who actually seem to want the same companionship the sailors they tempt want. Sailors don't stay with their Circes, they don't marry their Calypsos. The sirens live on a barren rock, alone, Scylla is left to wallow in misery at her monstrous form, and the selkie always has to leave for fear of being trapped by a person who won't love her on her terms.

I realized I had my hook for this simple, easy, silly little sea monster romance story: I was going to give a sea woman the happy ending she'd never get from anyone else.

Sailor may be the protagonist, but make no mistake: At Sea Without a Map was always, always, ALWAYS about Calibani.

The goal with Calibani was simple: I was going to set up a fairly standard Monstrous Sea Woman, but where other stories would let her be in one episode of the travel narrative and move on, this one would stick around. She'd be an unambiguous predator of human beings - an open and admitted maneater - but she would have no true malice to her. She, like all predators, eats what she can get to survive, and it just so happens that she's adapted to eat humans. And the story would pose the same question to the reader that my brain posed to me during Different Beast: is there any way you could make a siren-style sea monster sympathetic? Can you make a normal person who doesn't have my particular brain rot look at a maneating siren and think, "You're not supposed to kill her, you're supposed to love her!"

One of the few unavoidable plot points of At Sea Without a Map was that Calibani and Sailor's relationship would become romantic. What kind of romance it was could have varied substantially - it could have been one-sided, it could have been toxic, it could have been far more tragic OR far more comedic. But it was always, always going to be a romance of some sort - the goal of this experiment was to make you, the reader, love Calibani. All else was icing on the cake.

I decided to base Calibani's personality on Miranda from The Tempest - i.e. a sweet girl who is both wordly and naive, who understands the strange setting of our "lost at sea" story far better than the audience viewpoint character does, but views the mundane world of the audience viewpoint character with wonder and naiveté. In fact I almost named her Miranda outright... except I already had a character in the setting I chose for this story who had that name, and as an allusion to the same Shakespearean character no less. So I settled on naming her after Miranda's adoptive sibling (of sorts), Caliban - more fitting in some ways, as Caliban is a fish-human hybrid who is arguable more native to the magic island in The Tempest than Miranda herself.

(Calibani isn't the only Tempest name homage, either - her mother, Sycorax, takes her name directly from Caliban's unseen but oft-spoken of witch mother. Dr. Antonia Warefore takes her first name from Antonio, one of the human villains in The Tempest who hopes to use being lost at sea as a way to perform a coup. And the mothman Iriel takes her name from Ariel, the wind spirit in The Tempest who aids the wizard Prospero in controlling the magic island. If Sailor has a "real" name, it's probably either Ferdinand or Miranda, the two lovers who manage to blend civilization and the wilderness together with their romance.)

Visually, I wanted Calibani to not be any common archetype of sea monster woman, but rather something that evokes the popular images while still being her own thing. She's not a mermaid or a siren or a selkie - she's basically "what if a sea serpent was also a girl." In-universe, she's chubby because she, like all marine megafauna, needs blubber to survive. Out-of-universe, she's chubby because I've found that routinely drawing cute chubby girls is good for my mental health.

Part 3: CYOA

Now, while we live in a post-Muncher society where shame and cringe are emotions only the cowardly should experience, I am nonetheless Very Catholic about expressing my own feelings of, like, liking girls and shit. I cannot help feeling guilty when publicly expressing adoration of women without, like, an excuse - it's gotta be a joke or something, you know? I can't be genuine about it, or else Jesus will beat me with a cane for disrespecting women with my lecherous gaze.

But luckily I've cultivated a loyal audience of fellow monsterfuckers, which meant I had an excuse lined up: if I made this a choose your own adventure type deal, a story with audience participation, then you all would be my accomplices. And Jesus can't cane all of us! He doesn't have enough hands! I found a loophole bigger than his stigmata!

Plus I love collaborative story-telling - there's a thrill in not having total control of where the narrative is going. As Brennan Lee Mulligan must know, there's a joy in having to deal with the chaos thrown your way by letting others grab the figurative ball, even if just for a moment.

Part 4: Offbeat Melody

Since I did not want to set this story in Midgaheim, I decided to steer myself away from a vaguely medieval setting altogether. But I also didn't want to limit myself with the need for "realism" that putting it in a normal sea would require, and making a new setting whole cloth would start pushing this project into "not easy" territory.

Luckily, I had a setting lying around that I hadn't played with in a while, which just so happened to have a location that was PERFECT for the sort of Never Stop Blowing Up style madness I was aiming for. For a few years I ran a Monster of the Week TTRPG campaign called Offbeat Melody, and one of its core setting elements was taking the goblin universe hypothesis in paranormal science (yeah it's a real hypothesis) to an illogical extreme. We had specifically seen glimpses of the Sea of Monsters in Offbeat Melody, i.e. the parallel universe where monsters like Nessie, Ogopogo, Champ, and the like all hail from. Well, why not have a whole story set there? It's literally a universe devoted solely to creating sea monsters - what better place to strand our modern Odysseus?

Offbeat Melody was always sort of a Never Stop Blowing Up project, or at least NSBU adjacent. Some of my most unhinged story-telling moments are in that campaign - you could make a supercut of just the "commercial breaks" in the various sessions and it'd basically be an I Think You Should Leave episode. Taking one obscure corner of its multiversal world and exploring it in detail was perfect for this project.

Part 5: Monster by Monster

With our main romance as sorted out as could be for a CYOA story, it was time to figure out the "episodes" of this sea voyage. I settled on there being ten to roughly align with The Odyssey - just in terms of number, mind you, not in a one-to-one comparison. The first was, obviously, Calibani herself, which left nine more slots for me to fill with monsters. Let's go through them together in brief:

Tree Storks - any lost at sea story eventually has to get its protagonist into an island at some point, but this immediately begs the question, "Why don't they just stay on the island where it's safe?" The answer to that question has to be, "it's not safe there, actually." The Odyssey does this quickly and cleverly with a one two punch: the first island seems safe until you realize the food on it brainwashes you into forgetting everything except your desire to eat it, and the second island is full of delicious sheep but also giants who will eat you just as easily as they eat the sheep. When other islands show up in the story later, you immediately regard them with suspicion, because you don't know HOW they're going to be fucked up, but they definitely will be. My goal with the second episode was to establish the same sort of danger - that land is NOT safe, that islands WILL be fucked up and dangerous in ways you might not expect.

I also wanted to establish that this is not just a sea of monsters, but a very WEIRD sea of WEIRD monsters. It couldn't be any old monster on this island - it had to be one that was unique, unexpected, and maybe just a bit silly while still being menacing.

I've always felt that there's a lot of un-mined horror potential in storks, cranes, and herons - any bird with a long neck and spear-like beak it uses to stab smaller creatures from above. Just imagine yourself in a frog's place in the world - tiny, going about your business, when suddenly something shoots down at you from above and impales you before you even feel the shadow fall over your face. Or perhaps you did see the shadow - some of these birds spread their wings to create shade specifically to attract fish, and then spear the poor little bastards.

Well, what do people often look to islands for when out at sea? Shade - the shade of a palm tree. And palm fronds kinda resemble feathers, don't they? Wouldn't it be both ludicrous and terrifying is there was a stork big enough to mimic a palm tree - and wouldn't that be a DEVIOUS trap for a sun-drenched sailor to fall for? So the Tree Storks were born.

The Globster - I made a list of sea monster archetypes in the early planning for this project, and one I wanted to include was a kraken, i.e. some sort of tentacled sea beast. But I didn't want to do JUST a big squid or octopus, or even a riff on them. I wanted to take the idea of "big sea monster with lots of tentacles" into a stranger direction.

Since the Sea of Monsters is explicitly the home universe of lake and sea monster cryptids, I thought it might be fun if ASWaM's kraken equivalent was a globster - just a big ball of rotten meat. I love drawing monstrous faces, so I decided it'd just be, like, MADE of hideous rotten faces, all melting and congealing together, with its tentacles doubling as the tongues of its many mouths. A perfectly wretched image that, like the Tree Storks, would do well to establish how Fucked things could get in this setting. Plus similar monsters had appeared in Offbeat Melody, which would make for a fun sense of familiarity for the, like, five or so readers of mine who had listened to that campaign before.

Captain Peter & the Dolphin - Another thing I did in the early planning stages of this project was make a list of the different sea voyage stories I know and love, the most contentious of which is The Life of Pi. That's a story that I love on a literal level but kind of hate on a figurative level - its whole theme/message is that doubt is the worst thing you can have, that if you don't commit to believing something with zealous conviction you are a coward. As a person who thinks doubt is valid, that "I don't know" is sometimes the ONLY truly valid answer to a question, I have issues with that message.

But I can't help loving the beautifully ludicrous idea of a non-anthropomorphic tiger sailing the ocean on a big Odyssey of its own. Like, if that story didn't actively hate me for being agnostic, it would be one of my favorites.

So I decided to, you know, just steal the idea of a tiger Odysseus. The tiger in The Life of Pi is named Richard Parker. Richard Parker also happens to be the name of Peter Parker's dad. Hence we get Captain Peter - the figurative son of Richard Parker, if you will. And to ratchet up the absurdity of a tiger Odysseus, I made him a pirate and the sole sailor of his voyage. Somehow, this tiger has manned a boat on his own.

Captain Peter was intended to be the hero of another story - a sign for the readers that it IS possible for a stranded person (or, in this case, tiger) to survive out here. To that end, he had to rescue our heroes from another threat, but not one that would be interesting enough to take the focus off of the tiger pirate. Originally I planned for that threat to just be a big shark, but I ended up liking my shark design too much to put it in a role that small, so I quickly designed a nasty dolphin for the role instead. I think that worked out well, honestly.

Dr. Neptune - Episodes 5 and 6 were the mid-point of this journey, so I wanted the two monsters of those to escalate things significantly. I figured episode 5 was probably a good place to FINALLY give some meaningful exposition on what was going on, and there are a lot of stories about mad scientists doing weird shit on islands in my big list of sea voyage stories I love. So we get Dr. Neptune, a classical brain-in-a-jar mad scientist who's affable enough to give more-or-less accurate exposition but loony enough to be a problem. This also felt like a good spot to remind the reader that Calibani is not just a girl with a tail but rather a Sea Monster herself, and one that we'd been making stronger by allying with.

With his human-but-not-quite nature and cyclops eye, Dr. Neptune could sort of be seen as the Polyphemus of this story, couldn't he?

The Crocodisle - One of the sea monster archetypes on my list was "the island that's actually a sleeping monster," of which there are many in mythology and folklore. My favorite is the Jasconius from the voyage of St. Brendan, mainly because it's more or less benign and actually comes back to help St. Brendan and his crew at the end of the story. I always love when I can find an old story with a friendly monster in it.

When thinking of my own spin on the island monster concept, I remembered the only Magic the Gathering card I had as a kid, which I still have and love to this day: The Sandbar Crocodile. This card already inspired Crocogon's color scheme in The Atomic time of Monsters, but I felt I could go to that well again one more time, and so made a crocodile that wasn't just a sandbar, but a whole damn island to itself. And, like Jasconius, it turns out he's pretty chill.

I did not think of the pun name "Crocodisle" until I was actually writing the chapter in question.

The Femdom Mermaids - These three were a late addition to the roster. When I had Calibani bring up mermaids early in the story, I realized as soon as I wrote her rant about them that we'd HAVE to meet some later on in the story.

The readers had significantly shaped Calibani and Sailor's romance by this point, and I decided that it could be useful to have a chapter that was devoted to showing definitively how these two were good for each other. I thought the mermaids could provide a good contrast: have them act out a seemingly more benign take on the monstrous sea women trope (they abduct our hero to protect and care for them!) only for it to quickly feel MORE deranged than Calibani's comparatively simple desire just to eat him.

The spirit of Calibani's rant about mermaids was taken from weird* girls I knew in high school complaining about cheerleaders, so I wanted the mermaids to look like the sea monster equivalent of popular kids to Calibani's chubby weird girl. Two of them got the names of famous beauties - Helyne = Helen of Troy, Clio = Cleopatra.

(*when I say "weird" I mean it in a complimentary and affectionate sense)

Bob, meanwhile, kinda... rebelled, I guess? Before I had names for them, I listed "bob" by her as just, like, a descriptor for her hair cut, but then I liked it as her name, and once she was named Bob she became more than just a mean popular girl. She was a weirdo too, the little punching bag of the two mean popular girls who did their dirty work and smiled through their abuse because hey, at least they included her. It gave the trio an easily defined dynamic, helped make two of the three more visibly nasty, and gave us comic relief in an arc that could very well have gotten too uncomfortable otherwise.

And I guess it worked - readers REALLY loved Bob, and were very vocal about it, and I realized mid-arc that I had accidentally made her too likable to just leave in this arc. So Bob got to be rescued from her awful friend group thanks to readers like YOU.

Lord Ironteeth - yeah, this was the shark that was too cool to be a minor threat. When I drew his noggin, I realized he would need a chapter of his own, one with gravitas. I decided he'd specifically be the threshold guardian -once we beat him, we'd know for sure how to get home, even if there were a few more threats in store.

Spindle Inc and Sycorax - when I was a kid I used to have this recurring nightmare about being on some sort of underwater sea station that had this huge sea serpent trapped inside it. I'd look at the sea serpent from a window within the station and see it coiling in its tank, only for it to look at me with fury. In that glance I would suddenly realize two things with absolute clarity: first, it was going to break free and kill everyone, and second, we deserved that destruction for what we had done to it. The terror of the dream was less that the sea serpent was going to break free, and more the guilt of knowing that all the mayhem that was about to unfold was our fault to begin with.

I thought that would be fun to homage with the penultimate chapter of this story. OBVIOUSLY the sea serpent was Calibani's mom, obviously the trauma of its capture was why Calibani grew into a predator that specializes in hunting humans, obviously we would have to free the sea serpent despite that running counter to Sailor's goal of getting home. Easy, easy, easy plot point to include.

Spindle, Inc. is the primary antagonistic force in Offbeat Melody, so they easily slotted into the role of the arrogant humans who captured this monster for nefarious and selfish motives. They could tie a lot of other plot threads together too - Dr. Neptune was a scientist who worked for them as a contractor only to get screwed over (i.e. they stranded him in the Sea of Monsters, expecting him to die, and then used his research to make their own base of operations in it), we'd learn of him through a spindle briefcase left behind by some unfortunate rogue agent who got eaten by the Globster while he was trying to escape, hell they could even be one of the possible origins of Sailor themself (more on that later). Very useful villains, Spindle.

The Abyssal Mother - I knew the last sea monster would need a lot of punch to it. I briefly considered just a big whale - the Moby Dick to Spindle's corporate Ahab - but it felt underwhelming after all that came before. So I went for arguably the most dramatic possible sea monster, a full on Cthulhu-style elder god. If you're a frequent follower of this blog, you might know I have particularly high standards for Eldritch Abominations, so I realized this was going to be a pretty big challenge for me to live up to, and decided to keep the cthulhu in question reserved to the last few entries as a result - the less it appears, the less it has to live up to.

I realized I had a good angle when my experiments with the Cthulhu "squid for a head" concept ended up having a face framed in shadow - you know, the same visual that our protagonist has in most appearances. That provided some very juicy parallels between the two that made this final monster feel particularly noteworthy to me, ones that I'll leave you to ponder, since they tie into...

Part 6: Themes

I did not set out to have a theme in this story. I just wanted to make a sailor and a sea monster kiss. That was my only goal.

But I really don't begin with theme in ANY of my writing. I figure out topics I want to address, but for all my novels I feel like the themes didn't start coming together until about halfway through the first draft, when enough of the elements of the story had been set down and interacted with each other enough for me to realize what I was saying with them. A huge part of my second and third drafts for my novels have focused on making the themes of my stories more concrete and unified.

Well, ASWaM is very much a first draft of a story, but it's a simple enough story that I think the theme found itself pretty well despite lacking subsequent drafts to refine it.

ASWaM is about doubt and direction. It's about being adrift in a world that is in many ways hostile by nature, about not feeling like you're where you're supposed to be or even WHO you're supposed to be, and about setting off aimlessly in the hope that maybe you'll find your way to that mythical land of "what my life is supposed to be."

When I began the story, Sailor had amnesia and wore clothes that obscured their identity as a way to make it easier for anyone to step into Sailor's role. Sailor had to feel like You, the Reader, and so we don't know their name, their gender, their eye color, their hair color, even their skin color (note that their hands are always wearing gloves, and their face is always in shadow).

But it also meant Sailor is, well, undefined, at least at the start of the story. Sailor doesn't know who they are, what they are, how they came to be. Sailor feels distinctly that they should be Something Else, should be Somewhere Else, should be Someone Else, should not be who/what/where they are. Sailor is plagued by doubt, by a need to go in a different direction, by a need to be other than they are.

This initially contrasts with Calibani, who begins the story very confident that she is doing exactly what she was designed to be doing and acting exactly like she should be. As they interact, they begin to shift each other in opposite directions - Calibani questions her existence and nature, sometimes to a self destructive degree, and Sailor begins to find something about who and where they are that they like. They find a healthy middle ground together - doubtful enough to want to be better people, but with love for themselves that allows them to not feel the need to up-heave their lives entirely.

I knew at the start that I would build an expectation for there to be some answer to the question of who Sailor is and where they came from, because those are the questions that begin the whole narrative. I brainstormed a number of answers to those questions, but once I got a few chapters into writing the story and saw this theme of doubt developing, I realized I couldn't answer them. From a thematic standpoint, the doubt HAD to remain. So I gave hints to possible answers, bits of evidence to support the possibility of them being true, but never planted a smoking gun that answered it for sure.

Sailor can't know the answer because NONE of us know the answer. Outside of blind Life of Pi style faith, you cannot know for sure that you are living the life you're supposed to live. All you can do is figure out whether you're happy with the life you've got, or if you need a change. Sailor will never know who they are supposed to be, but they did learn who they are, and they love that person now.

For those curious, the possible Sailor origins are:

Occam's Razor: they're exactly what Dr. Neptune theorized, i.e. a human who got stranded in the Bermuda Triangle (or the Devil's Triangle or any other number of paranormal triangles) and fell into the Sea of Monsters. The trauma of that experience gave them amnesia. It's just brain damage and bad luck.

A Spindle Experiment: Dr. Warefore mentions that Spindle has been trying to find a way to make a human who can evolve like the denizens of the Sea of Monsters. Sailor may well be an attempt to do just that, perhaps one they wrote off as a failure and abandoned (they do that a lot)

A Deep One: Sailor is the offspring of one of the denizens of the Sea of Monsters (most likely the Abyssal Mother herself) who has somehow been tricked into believing they are human, to the point where they seem to be human to everyone else, even other monsters. Maybe a human summoned a sea monster to breed with on earth, and Sailor ended up being subconsciously drawn back to the Sea by their blood. Maybe Sailor never actually lived on earth at all, but was only made to THINK they had as part of the transformation into a human.

The Platonic Ideal of a Sailor: the Sea of Monsters is full of archetypal concepts, and arguably a sailor trying to find their way home is just as archetypal as any sea serpent, mermaid, or kraken. Our only proof that humans aren't native to the Sea of Monsters is Dr. Neptune, and he's not as reliable an expert as he claims to be.

This theme of doubt and direction also made the compass more important to the narrative than a simply mechanic for audience participation - a compass, after all, gives direction, and the feeling that Sailor is not where they're supposed to be, that they need to head in a different direction, is ultimately the catalyst of the plot. The compass is, in many ways, the antagonist of the story - the force that keeps Sailor from accepting themself. I realized this a little after I started making the different directions have personalities - initially they just represented broad concepts (North = follow conventional wisdom ala the North Star, South = preserve your short-term self interest at all costs, East = act with curiosity and be willing to take calculated risks, and West = throw caution to the wind and do anything that seems novel and exciting), but over time they became little characters themselves.

Since it was our thematic antagonist, I decided to pepper in some ideas about what the compass might be in-universe - and, in a move that would no doubt frustrate the compass, we also don't know for sure which of those is "correct." Is the compass a poltergeist, some amalgamation of dead sailors who try to steer other lost souls home? Is it a malign entity that leeches off of those desperate enough to seek its aid, living through them while pretending to aid them? Is it a device Spindle made to lure sailors to their clutches, OR to guide their experiments in human/monster hybrids? Was it a cursed item that forced a sea monster to assume a human shape? Who can say - the compass sure can't, it can only tell you a direction to go in.

Part 7: Q&A

Since this was an interactive story, I felt it was only fitting to add one last interactive element to this post-script write up, and some of your happily obliged me by sending in questions.

When I noticed how fast readers were falling for Calibani, I figured there was a good chance we'd end up staying in the Sea of Monsters. By chapter 7, I figured it was more or less a given, and by the end of the Lord Ironteeth encounter I was almost 100% sure Sailor would remain at sea. There was always a chance, though - while a look at the polls shows that the audience got more and more on the same page towards the end, there were always dissenting voices, and the desire to get an answer to the question of Who Sailor Was remained strong, as a number of people kept trying to find angles where they could get that AND stay with Calibani.

I was surprised early on by how easily the audience fell in love with Calibani, to the point where I made a few posts commenting on it. I mean, I shouldn't have been - as I said earlier, I have cultivated an audience of fellow monsterfuckers on here, and I know at least a few of them saw my bait and knew they could get me to be freaky in a way we found mutually agreeable (thank you all again for helping me escape being caned by Jesus for being horny).

Like, we REPEATEDLY ignored developing the plot in the Tree Storks chapter for several days just to spend more time with Calibani - something that I enjoyed immensely (this whole thing was an excuse for me to write and draw a cute chubby sea monster girl as much as possible aftter all) but also knew as a storyteller was not what most would consider a good story call. I like how it turned out, but it defied conventional narrative wisdom, you know? I was surprised.

On the other side of the coin, I was also surprised by how the audience NEVER chose an option that was humorously disastrous. I gave plenty of them, and, like, generally in collaborative storytelling there will be at least one moment where your collaborators decide to do the really, REALLY stupid thing that makes everything spiral out of control really quickly. I figured at least once the audience would choose the troll response, but no, you guys worked hard to keep Sailor and Calibani alive. You refused to let them hurt each other, refused to let them throw themselves into danger, refused to imperil them for your own chuckles. It was very sweet and unexpected.

I say "you refused" but to be fair it's not like NO ONE voted for the troll options - they generally got a handful of votes, just one that was beaten by a landslide of more reasonable options. Hopefully those of you who voted for the troll options enjoyed Bob throwing you a bone by disintegrating Dr. Warefore - that was my consolation prize to you.

Yes. I knew at the beginning that there would be two endings for this story: either Sailor leaves the Sea and goes home, or Sailor stays there forever. Or, you know, Sailor dies as a result of you guys choosing several stupid options in a row, but as stated above you guys avoided those scenarios pretty decisively.

Had Sailor gone home, the following would have occurred: first, they would forget everything that happened in the Sea of Monsters. Second, they would wake up in a hospital, having been found in the Atlantic Ocean by a human-recovery charity run by... oh, isn't that funny, some tech company named Spindle Inc! Spindle would foot the medical bills and even offer Sailor a job, but Sailor would decline because even now they're still not sure what Spindle even does. Sailor would go back to their life and find it familiar and utterly mundane, but not particularly happy. Their father died when they were 18, their mother was never in the picture, they have no siblings. They worked an office job and were sort of a nonentity - that position has long since been filled, but Sailor gets a new job and lives out much the same life: simple, mundane, dreary. Every now and then they get a pang of desire to leave, to go to sea, but they push it out of mind. They never even see the ocean again as long as they live.

Sailor would have gotten the normal life they thought they were supposed to have, the normal memories and name and identity, the mundane life of a normal person. And they just had to trade everything they found in the Sea of Monsters to get it. A question is answered, a direction is followed, but is it the right answer, the right direction?

Well, I think doubt would have remained.

I had a very vague idea for there to be some sort of man-eating giant in, like, a crystal castle. He got cut to make way for the mermaids.

I wanted to fit in a big whale and a giant crustacean, but there wasn't room or an interesting angle for me to want to make room for them. Saved for a possible sequel, I suppose.

I also wanted to have a scene with, like, DOZENS of sea monsters, including some of the ones from Offbeat Melody, but the goal of "this should be EASY you dumbass" made me kill that idea pretty quick.

Thank you!

The primary inspirations were:

The Odyssey and Epic: the Musical

The voyage of St. Brendan

The many "weird shit happens on an island" movies in Toho's filmography, i.e. Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster, Son of Godzilla, Yog Monster of the Deep, Matango, etc.

The Island of Dr. Moreau

The Boy and the Heron

Ponyo (specifically Ponyo's parents - I wanted Sailor to have the same desperate energy as that wizard who fucks the giant sea goddess)

The Life of Pi

Slay the Princess (perhaps most obvious in the use of second person narration, multiple voices in the protagonist's head, and falling in love with a creature that has tried to kill you at least once)

I'm going to use this to springboard to a related point in a second, but first a genuine yet humorous answer: Yes, absolutely yes, I am enough of a big romantic sap that I would give everything about my life away to be with a person who loves me and explore a world of monsters in a heartbeat. Hell, I would have jumped in the water the minute Calibani asked and died with her fangs in my neck and a smile on my face. I am dumb this way. Do not follow my example.

On that related point, though... Most stories like this, I daresay ALL stories like this that I know of, end with the hero abandoning the fantasy world in favor of reality, never to return. And that seems like the proper choice and lesson on the surface - we don't want to tell audiences to give up their real life in favor of a fantasy, after all. That's encouraging escapism, and that's not healthy!

But, like... textually speaking, the fantastical world IS real to the characters in these stories. And it's often not really an escape - was Sailor's life devoid of conflict and suffering in the Sea of Monsters? Fuck no! It's just that they figured out how to deal with that conflict and suffering - they built skills and a support system, they adapted, they learned how to overcome what was there.

I think it can be argued that sometimes the return to a "normal" world is, in itself, an escape - the idea that your life can spiral into chaos but that's ok, you can just reset everything and go back to The Way It Was and Should Be is just as unrealistic and unhealthy an idea as You Should Escape to A Better World. Sometimes your plans for your life fall apart, sometimes you're thrown into a place you never intended to go, sometimes you have to learn skills you never anticipated needing and ally with people you never thought you'd befriend to deal with problems you never dreamed you'd have to overcome. And sometimes it's ok to look at your derailed life, your Not Where You Should Be life, and say, "Well, I've learned how to live here... maybe I can stay."

Especially if there's a cute chubby sea monster girl who loves you.

Bob was never supposed to appear past chapter 7, but about halfway through that chapter I realized the audience and I myself would be heartbroken if we didn't rescue her. Definitely for the best - she provided some well-needed comic relief in the final chapters.

This is gonna sound snarky, but, yeah - there were 58 choices with four options a piece, and we only chose one of the four. While some of the options would have similar results, almost none would have had identical outcomes. And some would have been VERY different.

Like, to go back to the beginning: when Calibani attacked, we could either throw a net on her, harpoon her, try to drive around her, or hide below deck. We picked the net, but for the other three options:

Harpooning would result in us hitting her in the thigh, causing her enough pain that she collapses on our deck and we, horrified at the violence we committed, just sort of push on. Calibani would be wounded for at least the next chapter, perhaps longer, and significantly weaker (and probably harboring a great deal of hidden resentment while also being genuinely scared of Sailor). She would be vulnerable during the stork attack, forcing Sailor to take a more active role in that chapter.

Trying to steer around her would result in us essentially fighting her with our boat, resulting in the boat capsizing and Calibani getting tangled up in it. We'd wake up alone on Stork Island and have to travel in search of our boat, alone and vulnerable among man-eating trees. We'd run into Calibani again, also beached and in trouble, end up recruiting her to help us get our boat out of the sand.

Hiding below deck would end in a sea storm that leaves us inside our boat as it's beached on Stork Island. We'd fend off the storks alone, and run into Calibani once we get our boat out to sea, as she got away more or less unscathed.

All of these would have majorly changed the trajectory of our relationship with Calibani and our identity as Sailor, despite seeming to have the same component parts on the surface. Now account for how similarly slight changes in the other options could have gone, and we could have had a very different story indeed.

Part 8: Our Girl

I just think she's neat!

#At Sea Without a Map

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legy · 1 year ago

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hi! i'm caelum. you might know me from @goldentruths-pod or from posting online. im in a financial quicksand pit and i really, really, really need help.

i'm disabled and receive approx ~$950 a month from social security. this has gone from "rough but survivable" when i first started receiving SSI to "i am literally not making ends meet" in 2024. right now my current status is that i am covering my basic needs but any kind of extra purchases are impossible. and the extra purchases i need to make keep piling up because i just can't afford them. some things i need include, in vague level of priority:

dolphin, my cat, is years overdue for a vet visit. this is going to be $300 minimum, possibly more because she has an adversarial relationship with the vet. she needs dental work done which they had quoted me as being $1500 but ive been putting it off for so long that i would not be surprised if that's more expensive too

i have learned today that my gold crown needs to be replaced. really unhappy about this one. it was a miserable experience the first time (everything that went wrong did go wrong, i'll spare you the details) but what is relevant here is that my insurance does not cover this and it was $900 last time. insurance also does not cover extracting the tooth either so that's cool. i have some time before this one is due (my next consult is in july)

my phone is approaching "unusably broken". i've had it for close to 4 years now. the call speaker no longer works (i can only use the phone on speaker mode) and it struggles to run apps or a web browser which makes things like GPS pretty dire. this would be like ~$100-$150 probably, i havent done serious phone shopping yet

my driver's license is expired and i need to get a new one. this was $110 last time. note i havent driven a car in years due to the disability but it's really valuable to have a universally recognized form of photo ID and ive already been hassled over it being expired

god this one is so embarrassing to get into but i had to flee my previous apartment last year due to it escalating into a DV situation. the other tenants did not pay the heating bill, which was in my name (and my dumb ass didnt close the account because it was the middle of february and i didnt want to freeze them to death) so i have a $250 utility bill in collections. i might be able to dispute or debt forgiveness this one but tbh ive been so fucking drained given everything else going on and also my phone barely works so i havent pursued it. especially since i can't afford to pay it if i cant challenge it

i would really like to have a passport again. my previous one was destroyed by my landlord in 2018 but even if it wasnt it'd also be expired now. not sure how much this one costs. likely $200?

my food stamps were slashed in half (covid emergency ending lol) and do not cover my food costs for the month so im paying like $150 a month on food that i didnt have to previously. i can maybe fix this one but im slowly losing my mind from malnutrition from trying to not go into debt and also eat. so i havent had it in me to go 1v1 welfare bureaucracy and possibly make everything even worse

my shoes are probably two months out from fully decomposing. they were $100 three years ago and id like to get something comparable given they lasted me this long

the rest of my clothes are also very literally becoming threadbare, falling apart, or are too big and keep slipping off. i legitimately feel embarrassed to go in public these days because i dress so shitty all the time

insurance doesnt cover my HRT anymore so that's $30 a month i didnt used to have to pay

im sorry this turned into such a ramble. i'm in such a bad way right now, i have been for quite a while and the dental work news is really just the final straw. i can't really have a fundraising goal because due to the SSI asset limit i can never own more than $2000. & i'm aware both that this is the poor people sending each other the same 20 dollars website and that there are people urgently trying to raise money to escape an active genocide. but i held off from making this post as long as possible & idk what else i can do

anyway if theres anything you can contribute to help me i would appreciate it more than anything. at the very least i need to do something about my tooth.

http://paypal.me/hivehum

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deqdlyowl · 5 months ago

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I actually have some old doodles TPtR au related... This one portrays an event from the second chapter.

I have a few more things, but they're kinda spoilers and I'm not really into spoiling... Though one of them is just a spoiler of one interesting detail I want to add (the event my sketch shows most likely won't appear in the fic), while the other one is a WHOLE AHH SPOILER of the shit happening in, maybe like 10+ chapter, I'm still not sure how big I want to make the fic, ahaha.

Also rambling and venting out my feelings under the cut because I forgot to take my meds yesterday. You don't have to read but I would be happy if you do.

Every time I start something I like, it begins to feel like a small obligation after some time, no matter how I feel about the thing I create. I love my fic and I really want to finish it, because it's also a huge emotional boost for me when I understand that I passed my word count goal in the chapter and I finally can write down my 24/7 daydreaming about CotL (even if not all of them, I often think about selfship, sorry, ahaha),AND I have a nice feedback. BUT. My ability is to abandon things. I have many unfinished drawings, unfinished crafts, like, a crocheted Spycrab or a full-sized HHH tf2 weapon, even though I really want to finish it all, but since I took a really long break, I just abandoned it all. That's usually the reason why I don't make comics. (The only comic I've ever made is that one silly meme about bees). And a month ago I started writing TPtR.

I'm scared of this happening to my fic, that's why I force myself to write if I'm not doing so for more than two days. Somehow it boosts my motivation, but at the same time, the thought of having to force myself to do something, even if I love it, makes me anxious. Why am I not doing anything if I love it? Perhaps it's just my depression with AuDHD kicking in, and sometimes I forget to take my ADs (I don't have ADHD meds yet) that makes me suddenly apathetic about everything. And then anxiety. And then I get sad when I can't come up with words.

Today I was describing the thing I have no experience in. I made tonnes of research, watched many videos of how people do it, tried to find words, but it looks... Meh. And I'm sad. And when I'm sad about something I do, I abandon it. BUT I WON'T. I will force myself to not, because I still want to write! I try to reassure myself that it looks shitty because it's still a draft and written in my native language. However, if looking at my current word count, the chapter won't be short, and it makes me happy. I'm sad and happy. I'm confused about my feelings about what I do!! I can just abandon doing ANYTHING and be lazy for years as it happened in middle school! But I have to force myself. To do anything at all. I already bed rot when I'm not studying, and if I'm studying at home, I still do it in bed. I'm losing weight (I'm severely underweight), my dogs feel bad (they're almost 12), it's my final year in school so I also study hard for my finals, my dreams say weird things (I believe in dream-telling or whatever, and I kinda can decipher them) and it all devours me from inside. But I can't give myself a rest. Or. I'll. Abandon. The thing. I love!

I'm repeating, but my head repeats everything most of the time as well, it's either loud and messy (adhd) or quiet and agonizing (autism), my ADs make my body parts twitch, I don't think that I need my therapist anymore, because it feels like there's no different between me before and me after talking to her.

I love my friends though. Their cheerful reaction to my fic or sketch updates is something that also boosts my motivation of doing something. I love art because of the feeling of creating something, but after finishing, I get the desire to see someone's reaction to what I did.

That's all, I think. I mean, not all, but I don't want to repeat again and again, my memory is getting worse as well, I feel like I kin Shamura ahahahha. I want to take an MRI. What if I have a tumor.

#tptr au #art #artists on tumblr #sketch #cult of the lamb #cotl #leshy fanart #bishop leshy #cult of the lamb leshy #cotl leshy #leshycat #leshy x yellow cat #follower leshy #leshy #cotl yellow cat #yellow cat cotl #yellow cat #personal vent #lake hoot hoot

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wileys-russo · 2 years ago

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childhood sweethearts (5) II a.russo x reader

series playlist part one part two part three part four

and as we await the fate of our two main protagonists eventual kiss. its time to find out what really happened six years ago. childhood sweethearts (5) II a.russo x reader

"do i need to pick you up tomorrow then?" your older sister lily asked as she pulled up outside the russo household, drumming her fingers on her steering wheel as you unbuckled and shook your head.

"no i'll probably stay the full weekend and just go to school with less on monday." you shrugged, reaching around to grab your bag off the backseat. "what about your uniform? books? your bag?" your sister frowned as you opened her door.

"i've got a spare uniform here, i can borrow a bag to put my stuff in and i've already got my books with me, i have to study." you patted your overnight bag as the girl rolled her eyes. "of course you do, does your brain even know what a weekend is or do you mentally go to school 7 days a week?" she jeered as you mocked her and flipped her off, closing her door as her window rolled down.

"some of us have aspirations to graduate lilian." you smiled, your sister having dropped out early to pursue a career in cosmetics which had lasted all of three months. "have a shit time dickhead!" your sister called out after you as you made your way down the driveway, flipping her off again without turning around.

"none of that here thank you young lady." your face flushed red as carol opened the front door for you before you'd even arrived, having seen you through the window. "sorry carol." you smiled guiltily, giving her a hug as she let you in with an amused smile.

"lessi's just showering sweetheart." the woman explained as you hummed, leaving your bag by the lounge and following her to the kitchen, you'd been wondering why the girl hadn't responded to you on the way over here and now it made sense.

"shortstack! i saw your hot sister dropped you off." gio wiggled his eyebrows suggestively before pulling you into a gentle headlock as you rounded the corner. "urgh you're like my brother gio thats so weird!" you gagged at the comment, wrestling to try and remove his arm to no use.

"oi get off her!" his grip disappeared as alessia entered, bottle blonde hair pulled up into a damp bun on her head as she punched her brother in the ribs, immediately pulling you into a protectively tight hug as gio let you go with a loud groan of pain.

"mum!" the boy huffed in complaint, your girlfriend rolling her eyes and mumbling an apology as the older women told her off. "i wish you'd fuck off back to jordan." the boy sulked, grabbing an apple and heading back upstairs to his room as carol yelled after him for swearing.

your girlfriend had only just gotten back yesterday from a week away at a junior lionesses tournament which had been held in jordan. as much as you'd missed her dearly you couldn't have been more proud of her or the two goals she scored, getting her rightful start in the final game. you'd only wished you were able to be there but you didn't have the luxury of a national call up as an excuse to miss a week of school.

"we'll be in my room mum." alessia announced, arm slung over your shoulder as the woman hummed and waved you off, head buried in a recipe book making you smile as your girlfriend lead you away, stopping to grab your bag for you, silencing your protests with a very quick peck to your lips after she'd triple checked no one else was around.

the pair of you had been seeing one another officially for almost two years now however no one but each other actually knew that, and just assumed you were best friends, forever thick as thieves and inseparably close.

neither of you had any idea how no one had caught on yet, maybe it was because you and alessia had always been so close and so affectionate nothing seemed out of sorts to the average eye.

you'd always loved alessia in one way or another. but when it was just the two of you behind a closed door and your lips were pressed together, cold hands roaming one anothers bodies, murmuring everything and anything you loved about the other, you were absolutely infatuated with her in a way so intense it was almost scary.

and that was one sort of love you both agreed you weren't ready to share with anyone but each other just yet.

though both of you did need to often stumble through pools of awkward lies and ramble quickly made up stories as you'd be called out by your friends for the occasional poorly placed or forgotten about hickey.

this was normally your problem. ever since she'd figured out how sensitive your neck was the taller girl utilised every and any opportunity to capitolise on that.

riled on by the whiny begs for her not to stop as she hungrily attacked and devoured your neck late at night, silencing you with a hand pressed over your mouth and a gentle warning in your ear that if you weren't quiet she would stop.

"hi." you breathed out with a grin, looking up adoringly at the striker once the two of you were finally alone behind the safety and security of her locked bedroom door. "god i missed you." alessia sighed, pulling you into a bone crushing hug as you reveled in one anothers touch.

"we spoke every day lessi!" you laughed into her shoulder, alessia having been told off both by her roommate ella and her coach for the hours spent on her phone when she was supposed to be resting and recovering.

"we could be together every minute of every day and i'd still miss you." the blonde pulled away with a cheeky smile as you rolled your eyes playfully. "don't wish that on me please, what a nightmare!" you groaned teasingly as your girlfriend scoffed, holding a hand to her chest in mock offence.

"lessi!" you squealed as she tackled you down onto her bed, hovering over you. "that's baby to you, thanks very much." alessia pouted as you laughed, thumb stroking her cheek affectionately. "there is also something else i missed that we can't do on the phone." the blonde smiled suggestively, cocking her head to the side as her hair fell around you both like a curtain.

"mmm...nothing comes to mind." you looked off into the distance as if deep in thought, hand coming to stroke your chin as alessia playfully shoved your head. "kiss me then star girl." you smiled softly, tugging at her shirt.

as your eyes met, the world seemed to fade away. you felt her hand gently touch your cheek, slender fingers tracing a line down your jawline. hearts raced as her lips met yours, soft and gentle at first, then with a growing intensity as she poured into the kiss just how much she had missed you.

if you were sentenced to death the next day and were allowed one last day to do as you pleased, you'd be sure to spend it kissing alessia.

every single time felt just like the first. the same nervous butterflies would flutter around inside you, lips would tingle as if you'd just smeared them with popping candy, your heart grew five sizes to the point it felt it might burst in your chest.

each kiss was full of tenderness and passion, a dance of two hearts in perfect harmony as the girl who you trusted with your heart and your life drowned you with her love.

you felt her arms wrap even tighter around you, pulling your bodies close as you lost yourselves in the moment. the world around you ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them in a sea of pure unbridled emotion, two hearts beat as one.

her lips always slightly chapped melded against yours perfectly, kissing you with just the right amount of firm pressure to have your stomach in knots, and yet each touch felt so soft and so tender that your brain went fuzzy at the sensation.

her hand would always reach out to tangle in your hair as your own gently carressed her cheek, thumb stroking her jawline, feeling it clench at the featherlight touch.

and then suddenly your lungs would scream for a reprise and you'd pull away, collapsing into the mattress as both of you lay on your sides, eyes locked as chests heaved and alessia leant forward to brush a few flyaways behind your ear.

gone were the afternoons of her kicking a ball at your head, smearing mud on your face as the two of you wrestled and rolled around in the dirt like steam rollers.

your afternoons now were spent wrapped up in the others arms, sharing kisses as you filled one another in on the seemingly more mundane parts of your day the other hadn't been present for, you and alessia only sharing two classes in your final year of school.

on the days alessia trained after school you studied, often at her house in her bedroom eagerly awaiting her to return.

the striker would have left her boots outside at her mums strict request, trudging up the stairs with an exhausted sigh as you'd perk up hearing the squeak of the infamous stair the two of you learned to avoid when sneaking downstairs for a midnight snack.

she would shoulder open her door and dump her kit bag on the ground, making a beeline for her bed and belly flopping normally on top of you, face buried in your neck as she clung onto you tightly with a mumbled greeting hello.

sometimes you'd wind her up and tell her you wouldn't kiss her until she showered, dodging her attempts as you teased her for smelling terribly which normally ended in her trapping you in a bear hug beneath her until you tapped out on her back and gave in, allowing her lips to finally meet yours.

other times she'd have been told she wasn't starting next game and her head would hang low from the moment she entered the room. you'd immediately sit up and brush your books to the side, opening your arms for her to melt into. carding your fingers through her hair and slipping a hand up her top you'd hold her tightly, rubbing circles on her back, lips lingering on her sweaty forehead.

as you'd always known, you loved alessia, nowadays in a way much more intimate and tender than you'd have ever understood in your youth.

"you're so beautiful." the taller girl spoke softly as you lay side by side, words melting you like butter as you couldn't help but blush, no matter how often she complimented you it still had you swooning.

"why are you so shy? it's very cute baby but we've known each other like our whole lives." alessia laughed as you hid your face in your hands, the blonde prying them away and attacking your face with kisses only making your cheeks heat up further.

her leg nudging yours as you lifted one, allowing hers to slot in perfectly, your limbs tangled up as your foreheads pressed against one anothers.

"il mio bel bambino." (my pretty baby) her lips moved to gently kiss your fingertips, hands held captive in hers.

"you learned more italian!" your face lit up in pride as alessia eagerly nodded, beginning to ramble about how she had made it her mission to continue her online lessons even while away.

"alessia mia teresa russo studying in her free time? has there been an doomsday i wasn't aware of? are you feeling okay?" you gasped holding the back of your hand to her forehead, squealing as her fingers jabbed sharply at your sides.

"yeah well unlike school work this is something i actually want to learn!" she rolled her eyes and you grinned, kissing her nose and swooning as she scrunched it up adorably.

"hey. can we talk about something?" the blonde asked hesitantly, eyes dropping down to avoid yours, messing with your fingers as you nodded, eyebrows knitting into a curiously concerned frown at what was to come.

"okay but i don't know how you'll react so we have to do the thing." alessia decided, looking to you for confirmation as you hummed, the two of you sitting up and spinning around suddenly.

you shuffled slightly so your back was pressed against hers, hands finding one anothers and intertwining your fingers as your heads slumped onto one anothers shoulders, eyes closing.

"what's on your mind lessi?" you asked softly, squeezing her hands supportively as she let out a long sigh. "well. when we were away a few of the girls were talking about their...well their first times, with their boyfriends." alessia started quietly, her heart hammering away in her chest with every word.

"and i guess it just got me thinking about it." she spoke a little quicker now, clearly nervous for your reaction to her words, squeezing your left hand to signal she was done talking for now.

"some of the girls at school have been talking about it too." you confessed. "are you thinking about...wanting to do that?" you asked gently, not wanting her to feel as though you were judging her in any way. "maybe? does that make you feel...weird, or anything?" she asked slowly.

"no, definitely not weird." you promised, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment. "i guess i think i'm ready? to do that. but i don't want you to feel like...pressured into anything. we can do it soon, we can do it later, we can never do it if you didn't want to." she assured, starting to ramble as you squeezed her hands, grounding her into silence again.

"i want to do it with someone i love and someone i trust and you're the person i love and trust the most lessi. i think i'm ready too, whenever it happens." you spoke softly, unable to see the blush creep up your girlfriends neck at your words.

and it did happen. it was a couple of months later when you had your house to yourselves, your parents having taken your brother away for the weekend for a cricket tournament and your sister disappearing around to her boyfriends house.

the first time it was awkward, nervous, weird and clumsy of course, neither of you had done anything like this before and you'd have been lying to one another if you said you both hadn't tried to do some...research on your own to try and best prepare.

but despite that, it was with alessia.

you felt safe and you felt comfortable and loved the whole time, it didn't quite have the ending either of you expected (that sort of ending came a few weeks later and boy oh boy...no amount of research could have prepared you for the feeling) but it only strengthened the trust between the two of you, and was yet another first you'd experienced by one anothers loving side.

they always say your first love is a little foolish, some may even say there isn't something called first love. but what makes those initial feelings of love most beautiful are it's innocence.

when you fall in love for the very first time, that innocence inside you, that's a precious thing. it feels like you give your whole heart to someone, and as if you wouldn't ever know anyone else to treasure and care for it.

which is why it was all too easy for alessia russo to be both your first love, and your first heartbreak.

it all started the day you got the letter.

your mum had found it first, fighting her every urge to rip it open and read your fate, instead leaving it neatly on your pillow for you to find when you returned home that afternoon.

you'd spent the day with the russo's, thermos of her dads famous hot chocolate in your hand, bundled up in a hoodie with your girlfriends jersey tugged over the top. you sat shoulder to shoulder with her brothers in the stands, watching your favorite blonde play in one of her final games of the season.

you didn't pretend to understand half the rules of football much as alessia had dedicated years of her life trying to teach you, and so her brothers knew to hit you with running commentary throughout. but the one thing you would always understand was the sense of utter euphoric pride which rushed through you watching her play, especially when she scored.

her arms would shoot up into the air and her eyes would always find yours, pointing up at you and her family with a lopsided grin, sprinting to celebrate with her teammates as you all screamed out encouragement, drowning her in whistles and claps before play resumed.

coming away with a 4-1 win meant they were in pole position to finish top of the table, and so alessia was unable to wipe the shit eating grin off her face as she emerged from the change rooms afterwards, waving goodbye to her team mates and jogging over to where you all waited for her.

she'd always hug her dad first, your girlfriend was the true epitome of his girl, and mario reveled in teasingly holding that over carol. you were always last, alessia always saved the best for last, picking you up and spinning you around off your feet as you'd laugh and sing her praises, the two of you hugging tightly.

"i love when you wear my jersey." she mumbled in your ear, sending you a soft smile as you bumped your shoulder into hers and the two of you made your way back to the car, her brothers talking her ear off about the game as you stayed stuck to her side, watching on with a quiet amusement, not understanding most of what was said but feeling nothing but pride for the taller blonde beside you.

luca had driven himself and gio as they waved you both off and headed across the lot, you and alessia slipping into the back of her dads car. her mum would always fuss over the two of you, throwing a blanket over your legs and ignoring alessia's insistence that she was still warm after running around for two hours, carol always winning out as your girlfriend rolled her eyes and gave in.

but the blanket gave the opportunity for your hand to grab hers, squeezing softly as you looked at her in admiration, her head falling tiredly to your shoulder as the two of you chatted along to her parents, waving them off as you pulled up outside your house.

you promised you'd give your mum a hug for carol, hugging them both goodbye. normally her dad would warn he'd be out the front no later than eight since you both had school the next day, but now graduated there wasn't a reason the two of you couldn't spend the next few days together if you wanted, likely flittering from house to house as you often did.

appeasing your mum with small talk for a few minutes you grew impatient, tugging on the back of alessias hoodie with a longing look as the girl would make an excuse, the two of you hurrying off to your room.

"why do you always make me end the conversations. i quite like chatting with your mum!" alessia rolled her eyes as you closed your bedroom door. "because she loves you more and she actually listens to you. and because i haven't properly congratulated you yet for winning!" you grinned as your girlfriend sat on the end of your bed.

"mm that so?" the blonde smiled, arms settling themselves around your waist as her chin rested on your stomach, your own hands playing with the baby hairs on the nape of her neck.

you were about to lean down and kiss her, when your eyes spotted it.

alessia noticed your frown right away, squeezing your hips to gain your attention as you shook your head, stepping away from her and making a beeline for the letter.

"shit is that-" "i think it is." "well, open it!"

"i'm scared. what if i didn't get in?" you admitted, biting your bottom lip nervously as alessia sat right by your side. "you're the most intelligent person both intellectually and emotionally that i've ever met baby, and you got phenomenal marks in our GCSE's. open it!" she knocked her knee against yours and you nodded.

"oh for god sakes." alessia huffed impatiently as you fiddled with the corner, peeling it off painstakingly slow as your girlfriend plucked it out of your hands, ripping the letter right open.

"no you read it." you shook your head as she tried to give it back to you, alessia nodding as her eyes scanned over the paper, face unreadable as you nervously bounced your knee.

"we regret to inform-" your body crumpled at that, flopping back into the mattress as you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes. "only joking baby. you got in!" alessia pounced on top of you with a grin as you shot upwards, accidentally smacking your head into hers.

"oh my god i got in?!" you breathed out in shock as the blonde clutched at her throbbing head. "oh god baby i'm so sorry!" you squeaked out as she waved you off with a wince, opening her arms expectantly.

"i am so fucking proud of you. my pretty, smart, funny, kind, gorgeous-" the older girl kissed you with every word, the grin unable to be wiped from your face as your mum burst in, alessia very quickly jumping away from you as you filled her in on the news.

and as you jumped up to embrace her, your sister next to run in to congratulate you, alessia couldn't have possibly been any prouder.

but she also couldn't help but allow her mind to drift back to the box sitting in her wardrobe, signed four year scholarship and enrollment papers filled in and ready to be sent off to the states.

she knew she needed to tell you. but the thought of doing so punched a hole in her chest, and so she put it off as long as possible.

well, as long as she could until you found out yourself.

it was around a couple of weeks later, you were spending your usual friday night together, movies loaded and armfuls of snacks spread out on the bed awaiting consumption.

"lessi baby can i have a hoodie please?" you kissed your girlfriends jaw softly, the girl humming and pointing her foot toward her cupboard, engrossed in a video on her phone.

"yeah thanks, such a gentlewoman." you muttered, smacking her thigh as the girl whined and shoved you away. with a roll of your eyes at her lack of attention on you, you thrust open her cupboard, hunting around for your favourite hoodie which you knew she'd hidden, no longer wanting you to steal it as it was also her favourite to wear.

with a victorious grin you spotted the sleeve poking out from a pile of jumpers in the corner, rolling your eyes at her poor attempt at hiding and yanking it out. you frowned as a box lay hidden beneath the material, UNC on the front.

curiousity getting the better of you, assuming it was likely a new pair of trainers she'd bought and hidden from her mum as to not be told off for her spending habits, you opened it.

god, how you wished you hadn't.

your stomach leapt into your mouth as your eyes scanned just the first few words of the letter sat atop a bright blue sweatshirt.

"less. what's this?" at first she only hummed, attention still fixated on the video. "alessia. what is this?" you spoke louder now, the girls phone dropping from her hand as she looked up and saw what you had in your hand.

"baby-" "why the hell have you got a four year american football contract hidden in your wardrobe?"

"i wish you hadn't found that." she sighed, burying her face in her hands as you advanced toward her. "were you even going to tell me?" you whispered now, her head shooting up at the sudden change of tone.

"of course i was! i just...i didn't know how." she admitted guiltily, standing and trying to come toward you but you held your hand up in warning for her not to. "you didn't even tell me you were thinking about something like this, we tell each other everything." your voice cracked and with it so did alessia's heart at the look of utter betrayal splayed across your features.

"love-" "stop. don't fucking coddle me, explain." you forced out, letter still gripped tightly in your hand as you took another step back. "it's a four year scholarship to go play in the states. so long as i play with their junior team i can go to classes, live on campus and get my degree for free, and i get a hell of a lot of experience with a completely different style of football." she explained, a smile tugging momentarily at her lips, wiped right away at the look of disappointment on yours.

"i knew you wouldn't want me to go, or you'd try to talk me out of it." alessia admitted quietly, refusing to meet your eyes. "you what?" you managed out, shaking your head in disbelief. "i-" you started, trying to find the words.

"alessia i have always been your biggest supporter. i don't even like football but i go to every match, i make sure your kit bags got everything in it before you leave, i wear your jerseys, i let you kick balls at my head for years! you adore football. why on earth would you think i'd try to stop you from following that passion?" you frowned, shoulders slumping in defeat at her lack of faith in you.

"because it means we'd be apart for four years. don't even try to tell me you wouldn't have had an issue with that!" you were caught off guard at her sudden shift of tone, this one much more abrupt and sharp.

"don't try to project your guilt for not telling me into me being the reason why you didn't. that's not fair!" you shot back, alessia only shaking her head with a laugh. "you shouldn't have even been snooping around in the first place!" she snatched the letter off of you with a glare.

"snooping? i can see that offer is signed alessia, were you even going to tell me before you sent it off?" you asked with a hard stare, face falling as guilt flashed across her face momentarily. "you've already sent it." you realized quietly, her head hanging low all the confirmation you needed.

"wow." you breathed out, moving to sit down on the edge of her bed as you tried to come to terms with everything, feeling her sit down a few feet away from you. "when do you leave?" you whispered, feeling her eyes pierce into the side of your head but not having the heart to look up from the floor, the room starting to spin.

"two weeks."

your head did shoot up at that, alessia wincing at the anger, hurt, betrayal and disappointment clear as day in your features. "two fucking weeks. you didn't tell me and you leave in two weeks?" you breathed out, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes.

"i was going to i promise but i just...i thought it would make everything easier if we didn't-" alessia struggled with her words, tripping over herself as her fingers twitched and she rubbed her palms against her sweats.

"make what easier?" you caught on right away to what she meant, the room starting to feel awfully small as your chest tightened. and meeting your eyes alessia knew you knew what she meant. "everything." the blondes own eyes welled up with tears as you wiped at your face with the back of your arm.

"were you even going to tell me?" you asked, scarily calm as you stared her down, watching her wither underneath your piercingly angry gaze. "no." she admitted after a moment, burying her head in her hands, body wracking with quiet sobs as she began to break.

your legs buckled at that and your body fell to her floor with a small thump, your knees tucking into your chest as you curled into a ball. "so you were going to just leave and what? expect me to just...be okay with that?" you asked, unable to even wrap your head around any of this.

"you're going to college here, i'll be over there. it wouldn't have worked for four years and we both deserve to be able to make the best of this next chapter, i thought i was making it easier if we never had to say goodbye." alessia admitted quietly, both of you refusing to look at one another.

"never mind the fact i'm in love with you. i've been your best friend since we were five less, and you were going to just...get on a plane and leave me for four years without even telling me where you were going." you whispered, barely able to get your words out as red hot guilt flooded the blondes body.

"i was trying to make it easier."

"for who alessia? for you? by avoiding having to even tell me anything and just leaving me without a word? you're a fucking coward!" you almost screamed those last four words, chest heaving as you struggled to hold back a sob.

her silence told you everything you needed to as you broke down, your body convulsing as you sobbed into your hands, alessia covering her ears unable to handle the noise, tears rolling down her cheeks leaving a bitter salty taste in her mouth.

"get off me!" you spat out, shoving her off as she moved to sit down next to you, trying to wrap herself around you in a hug. "get off!" you yelled again, voice cracking as she shook her head, holding you firmly.

eventually she let go, collapsing into herself as you stood to your feet, vision blurry with tears as you stumbled around trying to collect your belongings.

"stop!" you sobbed as she hugged you from behind, yanking your bag out of your hands and dropping it on the floor. "don't leave me, please." she begged, voice no louder than a whisper as her face buried itself in your neck.

"i'm not the one leaving." you pushed her away, the force causing her to stumble as she caught herself and managed to stay standing. "you know now. we still have two weeks!" she tried, almost begging now as you scoffed.

"oh so i have two weeks to wait for you to break up with me? lucky me!" you spat venomously, trying to pick up your bag as alessia kicked it away. "we have two weeks we can spend together before i go. please! i made a mistake, a huge mistake. baby please i love you so much but-" her hands balled at your top, holding you against her.

"if you loved me you would have never lied to me about this. you would have told me the moment you even starting thinking about it! we could have talked it out! worked things out together! now i don't have a fucking choice and you don't understand how unfair that is alessia!" you pushed her harder and harder with every sentence until she smacked into the wall, blue eyes welled up with tears.

"baby please don't go! not like this!" she grabbed you again as you tried, wrapping her arms around you as you fought her furiously, hitting her over and over as her body shook with silent sobs but she refused to let go of you, feeling her tears drip down the back of your neck.

"i would have been okay if we were able to talk about this. if i had time to process this, to make plans with you, to talk about what it could have looked like for us and what we'd be when you were there. i would have supported you and this choice if you'd given me the chance." you finally broke free, stumbling away from her as you gestured between the two of you before furiously wiping at your eyes.

"but you didn't and you weren't going to. you're a liar and a coward and i can't believe i wasted so much of my life trying to show you i care for it all to mean nothing to you in the end. if you love me less, if you ever loved me, then you will do as you planned. you will get on that plane and you will stay out of my life. you're not my girlfriend, not even a friend would do what you just did to me." you wanted to say more, you wished you could find the words, you wished you could hit her again and scream that you hated her and mean every single word you just said to her.

but you didn't, you couldn't, you wished you could, it would have made it all easier.

you didn't allow her the luxury of a response, far too afraid of how easy it may have been for her to talk her way out of this, to lull you into a false sense of safety and security with sweet words and gentle intimate touches. to shower you with affection and quality time and praise, only to rip the rug right out from under you in just two weeks time.

so you left her before she could leave you, and you didn't turn once to look back.

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part six

#alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alessia russo #woso blurbs #woso imagine #engwnt #woso

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