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givehimthemedicine · 2 days ago

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lumax as a premature relationship

first: I don't mean any of this like "the show shouldn't have done it". what I mean is that with lumax, ST is telling the story of a relationship whose flaw (if it can be summarized into just one) is that it happened too soon.

probably out of comparison to milkvan, and the delay of canon byler, lumax gets lauded as the wholesome ship based on true friendship that slowly blossomed into romance. but that's not accurate. Lucas is a good friend to Max, but Max isn't to Lucas, and it certainly wasn't slow.

even platonic lumax should've been a slow simmer but was a speed run

the newly-introduced Max has high walls, which suggests anyone who wants to get close to her will have to take a slow approach. but then before you know it, Lucas is just kinda. in there.

yes, it takes him most of the season to earn Max's trust, which sounds long, but isn't. the first time Lucas and Max ever spoke was Halloween, Wednesday. the arcade I think is Saturday, and the junkyard is the day after that? so she broaches the darkest subject in her life... 4 days after meeting him. with like. zero prompting. "that fog looks cool! btw my parents are divorced and..."

Max's walls are only so high because of how badly she wants to let someone in, so it's understandable that the right person could get in relatively fast. I have no problem with that trope. sucker, in fact. but opening up here was CRAZY for someone with huge trust issues:

you have to be careful who you confide in about abuse because if your confidant mishandles it so that your abuser finds out you told, things could get MUCH worse. she simply doesn't know Lucas well enough to know he won't accidentally put her in more danger (which actually he already did: by following her out of the arcade after she said not to, and again by showing up at her house).

this talk was moments before Max saw a demodog, meaning she's gone along with the supernatural story without any evidence. I'm not criticizing that; she's a kid who likes fantasy, wants friends really bad, and isn't above playing make-believe in order to be included. what bothers me is she confided in Lucas about her abuse BEFORE seeing a shred of proof this entire outing wasn't the elaborate prank she feared it was. in the infinitely more realistic scenario that these boys are just messing with her, and will ditch her after they've had their laugh, this could so easily have led to a much darker situation at home.

the timing of that conversation was so objectively, stupidly unsafe that I'd call it bad writing if it was an isolated incident. but, self-preservation instincts so terrible they can sometimes be better explained as elf-sabotage - that's just classic Max.

romantic lumax seemed kind of forced because as a new kid in town, all Max wanted was friendship

the snow ball is about a month after everything else. Max and Lucas don't seem to be a couple yet. it doesn't even look like they're dates. so to kiss him suddenly felt like another jump way ahead. he sure looked surprised.

I guess a month is a while when you're 13, but the romantic aspect felt rushed to me because the whole season is full of indications that Max only wanted friendship. and that's made super clear by her constant focus on group friendship. her dialogue throughout 2 is consistently group-oriented.

her behavior is too: as of Halloween, Max has Lucas and Dustin in her pocket. if she's crushing on Lucas, or enjoys attention from boys in general, why on earth would she go out on such a limb seeking Mike's acceptance after she already has what she wants?

because that's not what she wants most. she wants to belong to the whole group, like she keeps saying. (I'm going to ramble much more about this theme in another post soon)

Max continues to prioritize friendship / group activities even after lumax becomes a thing

a few examples:

lumax's idea of "romantic time" can include their friends, in contrast to milkvan prioritizing alone time.

Max (and Lucas) drop 1 on 1 time (washing out his eyes is a scene that's an easy kiss opportunity for your standard tv teen couple) in favor of a long trek in the sun to build a radio tower so Dustin can talk to a girl she doesn't believe exists. Max and Lucas do skip off together, but again in contrast to El and Mike who leave early to make out, they only leave because it's time to go home.

^that's the same Max who tagged along and earnestly participated in armoring up a junked schoolbus to fight monsters without any proof.

despite downsizing for trailer living, she kept the Michael Myers mask in memory of the first night she felt like a part of the party.

unlike others who yell for their loved one from the UD, Max calls out for Lucas and Dustin.

her life-saving montage includes many platonic as well as romantic moments.

alright killjoy, if Max only wanted friendship, how's it make sense that SHE initiated all the romantic stuff?

ST is not a universe where grabbing someone's hand in a tense moment is necessarily an indicator of romance. Dustin said he could feel "the electricity" when Lucas and Max held hands on the bus, but then, Dustin also ships stobin.

the kiss, I could actually come closest to calling a writing misstep because.. it wasn't written. it feels forced because it was, as a last-minute unscripted thing - not because the Duffers decided it fit Max's characterization, but purely because they thought it was funny how uncomfortable Sadie was with filming her first kiss. <- this interview is actually so gross.

but, that kiss is canon regardless of how I feel about bts lore, and it fits and it works in the sense that this is the story of a flawed relationship. Max initiated it despite not being ready for it, simply because she thought she was.

Max's childhood fears about bad relationships have made her overeager to prove a good relationship can exist. so the first time a boy is actually kind to her, she's like OH SEE LOVE IS REAL I DONT HAVE TO GROW UP TO BE MY MOM LET'S GOOOO and hurls herself into something she's not mature enough to realize she's too immature to execute well.

if that kiss was so misguided, how's it still Max's happiest memory?

there's no conflict there.

she grew up around terrible relationships and probably feared she was destined for the same, so to find a nice boy like Lucas must have given her such incredible relief and hope. in her young mind, that dance was her happily ever after. you never forget how good a moment like that felt, regardless of how well reality lived up to it.

that said. can I point out that reality hasn't lived up to it?

Max choosing the moment lumax began, as opposed to any moment from the year-and-change of its actual contents... might be less good the more you think about it. like. she doesn't describe this as her favorite memory. she says it's the time she was happiest. in other words, she hasn't been as happy before or since.

that kiss marked lumax's moment of greatest potential, which I think is what made Max so happy. not the relationship she's actually gotten so far.

mmkay and then what do I do about the fact Max STILL wants to date Lucas?

once again, Max is the one who makes things overtly romantic by doodling a picture of them holding hands. but as you may know from my recent lumax diatribe, I don't see how the ship is seaworthy at present.

so the top layer of my interpretation is that Max is still operating under the same ideas that caused her to kiss Lucas in the first place. she's not thinking about how it'll work; she just wants. this is fast-forward Max again. it's a similar moment of hope to the snow ball kiss. romance with Lucas once again looks like her lifeline out of an awful situation.

the layer underneath that is less fluffy:

Max might've accepted this invite in as much an "I might die tonight so it won't hurt to make some lighthearted plans for the future, he did just save my life so why hurt his feelings for no reason" way as anything else. I don't mean her affection is fake. she just might consider the movie date a pipe dream.

consider that her attic monologue happens only a couple minutes after the doodle, and shows that her suicidal ideations are barely behind her. like, the wanting-to-die part is just bait at this point I think, but the deserving-to-die sentiment still feels fresh and sincere.

consider that Max so recently scolded Lucas for assuring her things would work out because that's "never true" in her life... and now here she is drawing a doodle of things working out.

sure, this could be a girl who's thinking "yes!!! ✅ Attending Event! I genuinely expect to be alive, deserving of love, and in the mood for romance this Friday!" but to me, it honestly seems more like a girl thinking "God, I wish."

btw the doodle would've been perfect as the advent of romantic lumax, imo

if lumax had grown slowly out of a healthy mutual friendship, Max really could be ready right here.

imagine: s2, Max earns her place in the party, but to grow especially close friends with Lucas takes a year; the bus talk happens in s3. we can tell their friendship is starting to want to become more. depression interferes in s4. but their bond helps pierce the fog, and they protect each other from Vecna/Jason.

you hit me with the movie doodle after THAT buildup? adorable, precious, showstopping. at that point, that date could've been their happily ever after. <- this is what people think it is already!

lumax is one of many flawed relationships (and that's okay)

another sign that lumax is supposed to be flawed is its place in the larger pattern of flawed relationships: parallels with other characters and ships.

Max and El in particular share a similar stumble into their relationships: both bond with the first boy to treat them with kindness, and throw themselves into a relationship that actually costs them the friendship they should've had with that boy.

and all the party relationships illustrate different friendship/romance progressions:

lumax is the story of a romance that should've been a friendship first/also and isn't going to succeed til it gets this right

byler will be the story of a romance that was a friendship first and will succeed by remaining one also (or so the themes and patterns suggest)

mileven is the story of a romance that should've been a friendship instead.

literally all of ST's relationships, including the endgame romances, have flaws that are intentional and meant to be explored. in fact that's like... most of what the show is. and most fans can readily admit that about all of them, until they get to lumax, which they think is uniquely meant to be perfect and is flawed only in its writing. this view strips lumax from its broader context and ignores many lessons it's there to teach us about ST's overarching themes.

understand: my aim in pointing out lumax's flaws is not to persuade anyone to enjoy it less or stop shipping it!

flaws don't mean you aren't allowed to like a thing. if anything, it makes them way more interesting to discuss, and more compelling to root for/against. we don't have to pretend our characters are perfect in order to enjoy, ship, and learn from them.

more on all this coming soon in another post exploring different types of love in the Max plot!

#lowkey lumax is getting away scot-free with credit for work only byler has done #givehimthemedicine analysis #max mayfield #lumax #tw suicide #character analysis #take your blorbos and ships off the pedestal and acknowledge their flaws... for the first time in your life you will be free #an actually perfect relationship would be so boring they wouldn't put it on tv

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abbacchiosbelt · 2 years ago

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"Risotto, i was just wondering, but whats your [i] Darkest [/i] desire? What'd you do if I let you do anything to me?"

cw for: violence, blood, non-con, mention of death, and use of metallica on the reader. 18+ only.

"Risotto, I was just wondering... But what's your darkest desire? What would you do if I let you do anything to me?"

Your question makes Risotto pause. He sets down the mission briefs he was going over and leans onto his desk, arms crossed in front of him. He's silent while he contemplates, and the anticipation of hearing him answer has you squirming in your seat. He wasn't doing it to make you anxious, though - you knew him well enough to know that he was genuinely deep in thought.

After a minute or so passes, he lifts his gaze to look at you. "Are you sure you'd like to know?"

The finality in his words makes it clear that this is the only time you'll ever get this out of him. Perhaps you'd just asked at a good time, or maybe you'd caught him in an indulgent mood. Either way, you were dying to know. You nod eagerly and scoot forward on your seat. "Please," you reply. "I won't judge you. I asked, after all."

Risotto nods, once, and begins. "I have never had a partner that shared this particular... fantasy of mine." He pauses and looks at you, but continues before you can say anything. "It comes from a part of me that I try to channel elsewhere. I want to first say that I would never hurt you... Unless you wanted it, tesoro." Risotto's gaze goes soft for a moment, and he reaches over to squeeze your hand. Before he talks himself out of it, he begins speaking again.

"There's a part of me that wants every inch of you to belong to me," he starts. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before dropping it, the soft touch not fitting for what he was about to reveal to you. "I... I think about taking you in every way, until I'm there to see the life go out of your eyes." He swallows, and shifts in his seat. Your eyes are wide, but you say nothing. You were aware of things like this, but to hear Risotto say it about you... It brought a strange, new feeling to your chest. "I'd start by dragging you away from our bed. Whether I've knocked you or you're kicking and screaming... it depends on the day."

Risotto exhales, chancing a quick glance at you before he continues. "I'd take you somewhere nice... Somewhere I had set up just for you. It's what you would deserve. A pretty end for my ultimate prize." He licks his lips. "And then I'd chain you up with Metallica so you're completely exposed. You wouldn't ever need clothes again. Ah, to lick the blood from your flesh where Metallica rips through it..." There's a genuine blush on Risotto's face. His words have you glued to your seat, your mind terrified yet intrigued by the way Risotto's love drips through his darkest desires. "Once I clean you up, though, I'd be making a mess all over again."

Risotto's gaze drifts to the ceiling. He's looking everywhere but you, you realize - but you don't blame him. Risotto continues. "I know you like to play with me, let me stuff you with my cock while you pretend you don't want it. But this time you'd know... You'd bite and scratch me while I fuck you full of my come over and over again. Everyone would know you had belonged to me. It'd be tempting to end it with my hand around your pretty throat." Risotto leans forward in his seat, and you instinctively bring your hand up protectively around your neck. His gaze finally turns towards you, and he groans at the sight. "To keep you quiet I'd have to fuck your throat until you couldn't speak any longer."

Risotto stands from his seat and walks towards you, reaching his hand out. You accept it nervously and he pulls you to your feet, dragging you in until you're pressed against his body. He's so warm that it's uncomfortable, and you can feel his hard cock against you. He leans in so that his nose is pressed against your neck and inhales deeply before he murmurs your name. "I'm not done yet. Every inch of you... I'd use you until you couldn't move any longer. To see you like that, having given everything to me but your life..." He grits his teeth and breathes out, harsh. "And then I'd kiss you long and hard, until Metallica is desperate to slice your neck open and finish what I started. You'd look so beautiful like that. So perfect."

He leans back to look at you, the wide-eyed expression on your face furthering the arousal that had built up in his body. "And even then, I'd use you one last time. No one could ever compare to you." Silence fills the air, Risotto no longer having any words to share. You're unsure what to say at all - it should disgust you and send you running, but... You asked. And something about it, deep down, had you hanging off of Risotto's every word.

#my writing #not sfw #risotto nero #yandere risotto nero x reader #jjba.txt #yandere jjba #non con cw #blood cw #violence cw #this one is pretty dark lol #me: *doesn't post any writing for like 2 months*#also me: *comes back with this*#character interactions

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mariyekos · 9 months ago

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Okay so I reblogged this once before with some ideas but the post-DMC1 Qliphoth idea I mentioned in the tags of that other reblog is taking over my brain so to expand on that-

Dante beats Mundus in Hell but is so keyed up that he just keeps mowing through things. Bloodlust/rage

Comes across Vergil who he realizes is not dead, but was teleported

While Dante freaks out because Vergil may not be dead but he's clearly *dying*, Trish shows up. She came through the portal

Dante begs her for a way to save him. Maybe Dante tried a vital star and it didn't work

Trish mentions the Qliphoth. It is said to grant ultimate power... and demons have a natural healing factor, so if Vergil becomes more powerful, his healing will improve, and he may live

Dante doesn't want to harm humans. It's not right and he swore to protect his mother's people. But...he swore to protect Vergil too. And it's not like people don't die sometimes. Earthquakes and hurricanes and tornados and other natural disaster kill hundreds or thousands at a time. This'll just be like one of those. They're unfortunate, but the world will move on. And it's not like Dante will permanently unleash the demon world on the human world, he just needs to open it enough to save Vergil, then he'll go and clean up the mess and everything will be normal! It'll be fine! Totally!

So Dante searches for the Qliphoth fruit. Maybe Mundus has the seed since he ate the last one, and he was just waiting for it to germinate, so Trish retrieves it from Mundus' vault while Dante guards Vergil

After a few days (time uncertain in the demon world) Dante decides to start feeding it his blood because hey he's part human maybe that'll make it react. After ??? time (a few weeks) it finally does. Dante gives it some of Vergil's blood too, apologizing to his still-unconscious brother, then plants it.

He returns to the human world. Hides Vergil in the shop, calls Lady, and tells her she should really go on that vacation she's been talking about for months. His little vacation to Mallet Island was nice. He's sure the sunny Bahamas will be way better.

Lady leaves for her trip because sure why not. She doesn't want to deal with the headache of Dante fixing his shop anyway. And it's just in time, because the Qliphoth bursts from the ground like 2 days later.

Dante takes Vergil in, and the empusas don't attack bc it was germinated by their blood and they recognize their master. But the other enemies do. Trish protects Vergil while Dante cuts them down. There aren't that many yet thankfully.

Dante sits Vergil down on the throne and essentially hooks him up to the tree. Dante just patrols but...Trish notices that when he sleeps, the tree feeds him too. Dante doesn't seem to notice how invigorated he's feeling or connect the dots between why he's fine without eating.

Lady shows up almost 3 weeks later, makes it to the throne room. (Since this is pre-cell phone era and the Qliphoth might not have shown up on international news at least at first, Lady was blissfully unaware until it either DID finally hit international news or she got home from her trip). Vergil is still unconscious, so Dante defeats her. He has the tree make her into Artemis for her own protection. That way the demons won't hurt her, and if she's unconscious, she can't hurt herself either. It's for the best. Artemis can take out any hunters that get in deep. He justifies it more by saying he'll free her once Vergil eats the fruit and everything can go back to normal and they can be friends again and it'll be fine!!! Yeah!

Dante feels it when the fruit is ready. He brings Vergil (who is finally starting to wake up, though he's too weak to move and Dante is too excited about the fruit to notice. Plus both of their energies have been distorted by the Qliphoth, so he can distinguish between his own Qliphoth-changed energy sparking and Vergil's).

Before feeding it to Vergil he hesitates. What if Trish tricked him? He'll just take a small bite to confirm. The rush of energy comes and it's so, so hard but he doesn't eat the rest and shoves it into Vergil's mouth instead, who is awake enough that the rush of power overwhelms his normal thoughts and he eats it right away

Once Vergil is healed, Dante is overjoyed. Finally, finally he has his brother back! He didn't kill him a third time! (Childhood by making Vergil leave the house and be attacked alone, Temen-ni-gru, Mallet).

Vergil meanwhile is horrified. While hooked up to the Qliphoth he dreamed a lot, and thought over what Mundus had done, and what their father wanted. He realized he had fallen after the Temen-ni-gru to join their father's world, but the world their father *chose* was the human world, and after everything he'd suffered he decided he should choose it too. Rejecting humanity had only brought him suffering. It was in those few years of childhood that he lived as a human that he prospered and was happy.

Dante is confused why Vergil isn't happy. He saved his life. Shouldn't Vergil be happy? Trish shows up and Vergil says that she corrupted Dante, just like she tried to corrupt him. Stripped away Dante's humanity just like she stripped away Vergil's when she helped Mundus break him enough to put him in the armor. (Remember when Dante says: "That last bit of humanity you had? You just lost it." or something like that when Urizen eats the fruit?)

(Maybe Vergil is also upset because Dante forced something onto him (the fruit) just like Mundus did. Vergil hasn't had a say over his body in nearly a decade. Dante is extremely shocked and offended by Vergil comparing him to Mundus, because he is *nothing* like that bastard. This was the best for Vergil. The armor was for the worst. Dante only wanted to help, Mundus only wanted go hurt. But Vergil argues that they're the same anyway, because they both wanted something that Vergil didn't. They both took his bodily autonomy away from him. They both used Vergil to further their own selfish desires; Mundus to prove his superiority to Sparda and inflict his anger on Sparda' son, Dante to reassure himself that he was a good person and didn't kill his brother. Mundus liked to say he was helping Vergil by making him stronger too. But he wasn't. Vergil didn't want that. Either of them. Dante used Vergil as an excuse for his own gain and he cannot forgive Dante for that.)

Dante also gets upset at Vergil accusing Trish of being bad bc Trish's knowledge is the only reason Vergil survived. He should be grateful. But Vergil argues the cost wasn't worth it. Wasn't Dante upset about the Temen-ni-gru? What changed? Why is it okay now?

Dante argues it's because he's trying to protect Vergil. He didn't do it for power's sake. But Vergil argues that he didn't do it just for power either, he did it for the power to *protect* which means Dante has made the exact same mistake as Vergil.

Dante disagrees. So, there's only one way to settle the argument. To fight.

Who wins? Well Vergil ate more of the fruit, and he was more hooked up to the Qliphoth than Dante. But Dante had a bite, and he was fed by the Qliphoth a little too. And Vergil is hesitant to kill his brother, while Dante is so upset (and has spent the past month plus trying to convince himself that everything he was doing was justified, and is so far in that he can't accept that it *wasn't* bc then he'll have to face the horrible things he's done) that he is able to put so much more of himself than Vergil is. So when you have a stronger guy who isn't trying versus a weaker guy who is giving it everything he has...

This probably isn't as much Vergil turning over a new leaf as you intended since he's pretty absent from most of the story (as in, he's a plot device but isn't awake until the very end) but it sort of fits the bill? Eh, it was fun to think of either way. If I haven't gotten swept up in another idea once I finish my current DMC longfic, I might try to turn it into a proper fic one day!

Role swap AU but not in the typical sense where Dante and Vergil's positions were switched on the day of the attack. Instead it's Dante fucking snaps at some point and when Dante snaps is about the same time Vergil turns a new leaf.

#also i typed this on my phone so there are probably a million typos. but i need to go to sleep bc i have work early so good enough!#my current dmc longfic is 75k (or 76 now? my phone doesn't like opening the doc) words and still not done.#i have a feeling it's going to break 100k. thpigh if i trash the chapters i don't like it might not make it. it depends.#that one's a time travel au. basically post dmc5 dante ends up in the past just barely too late to stop sparda from disappearing-#-but before the attack. which means he might be able to change things...#what's funny is in my first tweets about it i go on about how i think i'll be done in 20k words #and think it would be cool if it was 40k but i just dont have enough to say to make it 40k. 2 months later it's at 75k+#i still haven't published any of it and probably won't until i finish the first draft. i say as i've revised old stuff SO MANY TIMES #but it's sort of still the first draft? in that i haven't finished it? even if i've rearranged chapters and scenes #BUT ANYWAY. hopefully i'll be done with the first draft of that by the end of the month and maybe i can write some of this #it would probably be 10k+ knowing me but i'm not sure #oh my phone timer says i have less than a minute left for tumblr for the night so byeeee #dmc #erurandomness #eruadds #also yes this is ignoring the mundus fights once you return to mallet but let's just say dante somehow hits mundus hard enough-#-in the demon world that he's down for the count and that's it. ends in hell.

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viviennevermillion · 1 year ago

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love languages

✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: hsr debut post, hope this does well. i'm only at chapter 2 part 1 so pls bare we me. (gn!reader), aeons can walk among mortals for this

✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: bloom in the dark — emorie

✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: blade, dan heng, jing yuan, luocha, march 7th, nanook, yaoshi

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: some angst & hint at character death in blade's because i'm still figuring out how to write anything but angst for a character whose main objective is that he wants to die, i had way too much fun making the aeons eldritch

✧ giving: gifts

As much as Blade loved you, as much as he treasured the memories he shared with you and as much as he'd hate to cause you pain or grief; you were all too familiar with his predicament. You had been ever since you agreed to stay by his side, to love him for as long as you had together. That was the price you'd pay for loving a man who considered himself dead in spirits already. A shell of who he once was.

Part of him felt guilty for indulging you; how could he call himself yours when he'd take the exit from his cursed immortality if it presented itself before him tomorrow? How could he promise you his heart if he couldn't promise you a future?

He knew there was a chance he might outlive you by centuries. He knew there was a chance he'd say goodbye to you in a month. Still, you were willing to be with him, through all the uncertainty.

So he gifts you things to remember him by, should he part from you too soon for your liking. Some of them were expensive; after all he had more than enough life behind him to no longer be bound by material limits. Some of them were simple trinkets or flowers he preserved using glycerine. All of them held meaning but the overarching message was: "We were born in different times. If it were for the natural order of things, we never would have even met. I've been suffering since long before I met you. And yet, curiously, despite all; I treasure every moment I had with you. I'm glad to have loved you."

✧ receiving: physical touch

One thing Blade would have never expected when he met you; but was more than glad to realize, was that you could make him forget his anger and pain, even if it was for just a while; even if it always inevitably returned.

He loved falling asleep in your arms. It was the closest thing to the peace and salvation he craved that he could currently have. For just a few hours, he was content. He had forgotten what that felt like.

He loved the feeling of your fingers carding through his long, dark hair. And you loved the smile you so rarely saw on his face when you did this. Blade's breathing would calm and he'd nuzzle your neck as he was being held in your arms.

Blade also loves waking up in the middle of the night, feeling you shift in bed beside him and pressing a few lazy kisses to his lips before he fell back asleep.

He loves the way you tend to his scars, how you seem to wash the pain off his body with your caring touch; despite feeling guilty for how he has made you worry again. You'd end up disinfecting and bandaging his wounds and sometimes he had to chuckle at how you treated him as if he was fragile, despite having likely seen more hardships than you could ever imagine.

✧ giving: acts of service

Dan Heng doesn't really know how to express his love for you at first so he defaults to helping you out however he can.

He helps you with little jobs around the Astral Express and loves to team up with you for any missions or chores that fall on both of your plates.

Especially with all the knowledge he gathered from the archives and basically living in there; he's more than ready to help you figure out any mysteries you encounter on your journey with the Astral Express.

If he needs to explain anything to you or answer a question you have about stuff like the Aeons or any factions you encountered, he'll often pull you onto his lap at the desk and show you important info about it in a book or online. "I hope I could answer your questions. Did this help you?", he then asks you, looking into your eyes. "Yup!", you shoot him a smile and give him a quick kiss to the lips which leaves him blushing and just staring at you for a while.

"Hey, Astral Express to Dan Heng, you still there?", you chuckle and wave your hand in front of his eyes. He just blinks like, twice and then picks you up bridal style: "Come on, let's figure out that task Himeko gave you." He's just trying to distract from the fact that you flustered him.

Sometimes he tries to cook for you. The emphasis is on tries. You'll walk into the train kitchen and he'll be there stirring something in the frying pan and glancing at a recipe. "What are you doing there, love?", you ask and kiss his cheek. "I'm making lunch for you", he states and you hug him. "Aww, that's so sweet of you!", you press a few appreciative kisses to his lips, "wait why does it smell burnt?" "What-"

✧ receiving: quality time

Dan Heng is what we call 'a good listener'. He's not the best conversationalist but he likes to hear you talk and he remembers stuff you told him that even you have forgotten about until he one day just brings it up out of nowhere.

He loves to spend the time between trailblazing expeditions just hanging out with you. You check your phone and receive a text from him like "Hey, want to come over to my room? 🫀"

"?" "March told me that I should add a heart to my messages to make you feel more loved. Did I not do it correctly?" "Dan Heng, sweetie, no..."

You enter his room and he has made you two cups of coffee, the only thing he's actually good at "cooking". The two of you have decided to watch a movie and lay down on Dan Heng's mattress. "I can feel the bones in my back snapping in half, how do you sleep on this?", you raise your eyebrow. "I don't think it's that bad", he mumbles, seeming lost in thought.

While watching the movie, he has his arms wrapped around you. His only opinion about it is "it was good".

Also enjoys playing board games with you, specifically card games. You're pretty equally matched so there's no telling who wins this round. When he wins, you ask him what he wants as a reward and he just gives you a soft smile and tells you a kiss will do.

✧ giving: physical touch

Jing Yuan is a fairly affectionate man behind closed doors. He doesn't leave for work without giving you as many goodbye kisses as you want and doesn't let go of you throughout the whole night while he sleeps. You could get up and grab a glass of water from the kitchen, as soon as you return, Jing Yuan wraps his arms around you once more; even when he's in deep sleep.

He enjoys just sitting idly with you, both of you doing your own things and he's just holding your hand or has a hand resting on your thigh. He also loves when you lean your head on his shoulder and as soon as he feels you do that, he turns his head to place a kiss on your forehead.

Sometimes you'll be reading a book while sitting between his legs and he ends up pressing multiple kisses to your cheek or trailing them down your neck. He smiles against your skin everytime he does this. He's not always seeking to touch you but he has his clingy 10 minutes where he wants attention and sometimes that happens to interfere with whatever it is you're doing at the current moment.

Most of the time you can't resist indulging him and just kissing him for a while, burying your hands in his hair or cupping his cheeks gently.

✧ receiving: quality time

Jing Yuan loves those days on the Xianzhou Luofu that are so peaceful that he gets to spend the entire day with you. You decide to take a nap during noon, falling asleep in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat. You feel Jing Yuan press a few soft kisses to your forehead while you're dozing off.

When you awake, he's no longer next to you. You get up and find him in the kitchen, preparing a late lunch for the two of you. You wrap your arms around his waist from behind and glance at the frying pan to see him fry some eggs.

You hear a chirping sound and fish a small finch out of your boyfriend's hair. "Don't worry you, we're not grilling your brethren", you whisper softly and put the bird on the windowsill, "fly free, my little friend." The bird lifts off. You raise an eyebrow at Jing Yuan. "Was this the last one?"

He chuckles. "Should be." This at least gives him an excuse to take a bath with you and maybe you'll volunteer to wash his hair. He loves the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair and just relaxing and letting you pamper him. "You know, if that's what you want, you can just ask right?", you remind him, "you don't need to call your woodland friends for help." Jing Yuan just laughs and gently guides your chin closer to his face so he can kiss you softly.

He enjoys playing chess against you, though you tend to suggest to play a die-based game instead so you can win by having good luck, because Jing Yuan has several centuries of chess practice under his belt. "You know that still doesn't mean you'll win", he watches you unpack the Ludo game with an amused expression. "I have good luck, I got you after all", you say confidently. "Well I've heard an old saying from a distant planet that when you luck out in love it means you have bad luck when it comes to games", he argues and crosses his arms with a smile on his face. You roll your eyes and he responds by kissing your lips.

Sometimes he watches you play chess against Yanqing. "Does it hurt to lose to an 8 year old?", he teases you. "Silence, Jing Yuan, you taught him this stuff." Your lover lets out a laugh. "And yet he still has so much to learn before he can beat me."

✧ giving: words of affirmation

When Luocha loves you, he doesn't hesitate to tell you. After all, his companion in the coffin consistently reminds him that life is short and he better have no regrets, should misfortune strike him tomorrow. Luocha adores you and in his mind, there's nothing stopping him from letting you know.

He's also a bit of a smooth-talker to you and you only. He never gets overbearing with his flirting, but you can expect a few cheesy compliments followed by a kiss to your hand. He'll pick you up for your date, takes your hand in his and leads it to his lips. "You're as beautiful today as the first time I saw you", he smiles and whispers against your skin.

Getting together with Luocha could take ages if you insist in knowing why he's being so suspicious first; but once you do he's ironically an open book for you. He has shared his greatest secret with you and you've given your hearts to one another, so why should he hold back now from telling you what's on his mind?

Sometimes his words are on the nose, such as cupping your cheeks and telling you that he loves you with all his heart or that he wants you to traverse the stars with him from now on. Sometimes the love he has for you is put into telling you how he remembers certain areas around the Xianzhou Luofu as "that place where you surprised me with a bouquet of flowers when we met up for tea" or "that shop where you almost made the coffin fall over". You learn with time that there are a lot of things he associates with you and your memories together.

✧ receiving: physical touch

Luocha loves your affections. He's the least grumpy man ever in the morning. You could wake him up at 3am for kisses and he'd be down for it. He loves when he wakes up and the first thing he feels is your lips on his cheeks or your fingers running through his long blond hair or your fingertips drawing circles on his bare shoulders.

He pulls you into his chest and you can hear his heartbeat while he holds you close. He lifts your chin up and his lips meet yours before he even opens his eyes. He kisses you softly, his tongue circling around yours as he tries to pull you even closer. "Good morning, my love", his voice sounds raspy before he presses a kiss to your cheek.

Luocha loves to take a walk through the city and hold your hand in his while doing so. He doesn't say it but he definitely melts if you stop your walk for a minute just to give him a hug or kiss him gently.

One time you get caught in the rain and Luocha finds shelter for the two of you under a secluded pavillion. You are cold so he wraps his jacket around you and holds you in his arms until the skies clear. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Are you still cold, my dear?", his voice sounds so soft and he gently squeezes your shoulder. You shake your head. He lets out a chuckle. "That's good, then", he replies before resting his head on top of yours and closing his eyes for a while.

He enjoys resting his head in your lap while you run your fingers through his hair. You might be busy with something else, not noticing how he smiles up at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen (you are). He eventually closes his eyes and rests his cheek against your stomach.

✧ giving: words of affirmation

March 7th talks quite a lot, especially if you were to ask Dan Heng about it. So if she's in love with you; her feelings are bound to slip out with her words. It wasn't hard for you to become aware of her crush on you because she just accidentally blurted it out one day. She was so happy when you told her you felt the same; even if this conversation was the furthest thing from planned.

March loves to explore the civilizations you travel to on the Astral Express and buying lots of souvenirs and clothes from there. So sometimes she'll drag you from shop to shop and often finds things she thinks would look good on you. No matter if you're wearing a fancy suit / dress or a 5 credit neon green "I survived the Belabogeyman attack" shirt from a shady souvenir shop, she hypes you up like you're on the front cover of a popular magazin.

"Aw look, you're so cute", she squeals and hugs you from the side, trying and failing to lift you up. There's at least 5 people in the shop staring at you and the shopkeeper glares at March, silently reminding her to keep her voice at an acceptable volume for a public building. "Oops... sorry", she cringes slightly and then turns to you again with a bright smile, "you should totally get this!"

Everytime you enter her room after a trip you find a new photo you took together on her wall. "Look at your smile on this one", she holds one of them up, "it makes me happy whenever I look at it."

Dan Heng told her to stop talking about you all the time so now she talks with you about you.

Definitely tells you she loves you plenty of times.

✧ receiving: gifts

March loves gifts. She's the kind of person who can't wait to open her birthday presents so you guys have to hide them from her every year; preferably somewhere where she can't reach or won't find them.

So when she receives gifts from you for no special occasion, she's gushing so much.

She loves flowers and chocolates. She definitely has a sweet tooth but will still share the chocolates with you. She is very interested in the meaning of the flowers you gift to her so if you can tell her about that, she'll be all the more happy. She loves romantic gestures like this. She has mostly read about them in romance novels and she's more than thrilled to finally receive them herself.

March also adores jewelry, whether you bought something for her or crafted it yourself. She'll wear it everyday and she's very proud whenever someone asks about it.

She posts about the gifts she receives in her status online as well. She'll be like "y/n got me this! 💓💓💓"

She dm's the pictures to Dan Heng as well and he leaves her on read.

When you gift her something, she gives you a hug and a kiss on the cheek before opening it. Once she opened it, she smiles at you brightly and kisses you on the lips. "Thank you so much for this!", she takes your hand into hers and squeezes it.

Receiving gifts from you makes her so happy. But being loved by you makes you feel like every day is her birthday either way. And for you, every day was March 7th.

✧ giving: quality time

Loving an Aeon wasn't the easiest endeavor. Especially not Nanook. But somehow you had touched the destructive god's heart and for the first time since they became what they were today, there was a life they wanted to treasure and protect.

They don't understand much about the human world as it was today, having mostly spent their time on a different plane of existence. It was only when they connected with you and took an interest in you; that they decided to walk among them for a while, to be able to spend time with you. At first their bitterness became apparent every day they spent with you, only scoffing at the people they saw going about their daily life and the things that they had built; which all would be wiped away by destruction if Nanook were to have their way.

But you took that as a challenge. You wanted to see if you could find something they liked about life, unaware that you had become that very phenomenon.

You made it your favorite pastime to show them all sorts of things from the material world and see their reaction to them. "What do you think of this painting?", you ask them, holding up a work of art you got from a market. "I'm not too fond of the sound it makes and the cosmic essence it depicts", they respond with a deadpan expression and you just look at them in confusion, "right, I forgot you can only perceive three dimensions."

Nanook, despite not letting it show, enjoys spending time with you; even though it could be challenging sometimes considering they were an Aeon and you were not. Sometimes they would ask you about things you couldn't see and other times they struggled to discern what things they saw you could pass through and which ones you considered "a wall".

✧ receiving: physical touch

Nanook loves your touch, much as they would like you to never notice that. They're not used to any physical sensations so they're very sensitive. They're unable to form coherent sentences when you so much as press a kiss to their lips. According to them it was very difficult to convey their thoughts in your way of speech when you were "trying to overwhelm them like this"

Giving Nanook affection also proved to be a challenge in more ways than one. The first time you tried to rest your head on their chest, your cheek touched the golden essence flowing out of them and you could perceive what you could only describe as the worst sensory overload anyone has ever experienced; a colorful mix of incoherent screaming and the faint sound of explosions; the feeling of all-encompassing despair and grief.

"What was THAT?", you stared at Nanook in shock, panting. "The entirety of traces left behind by destroyed worlds and ending lives from at least the last couple millenia", they answered very casually. You sighed and held your head, now suffering from a migraine. "At least it doesn't disintegrate me", you took a deep breath and started rummaging through your closet. "Only if I want it to", Nanook explained. "Charming", you whisper to yourself in a sarcastic way and toss them a shirt, "put this on."

Kisses are such a novelty to them. They're like "what was that?"

"Affection." "Do it again."

One time you pressed several kisses to their shoulder and Nanook just slow-blinked at you for like 5 minutes, before resting their head on your shoulder.

✧ giving: gifts

Yaoshi loves to bestow "blessings" upon you. Though, you have to teach them at first what you would consider an acceptable present.

The first one is immortality if you want it. Yaoshi would love nothing more than for you to be by their side forever.

Their next attempts at gift-giving left you feeling a little lost. They manifest before you, excitedly grabbing your cheeks and your waist and your shoulders with their hands and pulling you into a kiss. "My dearest, I made you a creature", they exclaim and reveal a Frankenstein-esque abomination the size of a volleyball. You can't quite discern what it actually is but it looks like an abstract mixture of a hamster, frog and a dragon. "Uh...thank you?", you try to be as polite as possible, unsure what to do with the creature as it spits a smaller version of itself onto your bedroom floor and then disintegrates. "It reincarnates out of itself", Yaoshi explains. "I can see that", you nod with wide eyes, patting Yaoshi's head.

One day, Yaoshi guides your spaceship to a distant location. "This is a planet I renovated for you", they join you as you land and explain their thoughts behind all the different new kinds of flowers they created specifically for you. "You're my greatest inspiration", they kiss your cheek and wrap their arms around you.

You eventually sit them down and calmly explain to them that one planet is more than enough and that you definitely do not need another creature. You teach them about your customs of giving gifts and they listen attentively. Maybe a bouquet of flowers would do next time.

✧ receiving: quality time

Yaoshi wants you to stay by their side forever. They perceive the passage of time very differently from you, yet they treasure and vividly remember every second by your side. Your bond of love is a sacred one in their eyes and they want to feel as close as possible to you.

They especially love talking to you and learning about your experiences that are so vastly different from their own. Despite being so intertwined with life itself; Yaoshi learns so much about life just from being with you. They never would have imagined you could give them so many new perspectives on the universe just by sharing your thoughts and beliefs with them.

Yaoshi always listens to you attentively and you see a sense of childlike wonder in their eyes when you speak about the way you experience the world, the things you value and the memories you treasure.

"Isn't it marvelous; how we see the world through such different lenses and are entirely different entities, yet we love each other so deeply and unconditionally", their voice sounds soft as they pull you onto their lap, holding you with their six arms and planting kisses on the back of your neck repeatedly.

Unlike Nanook, Yaoshi is very clingy. Quality Time with you always involves touching you in some way, be it kissing you repeatedly or holding you tightly within their embrace. Sometimes they sing you to sleep with a gentle voice, running their fingertips over your shoulder.

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rageserenity · 8 months ago

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It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

#revivecherik #cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #xmfc #james mcavoy #michael fassbender #x men days of future past #x men #charles x erik #magneto #professor x

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fioiswriting · 1 year ago

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Reunion | oneshot

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

[Part 2]

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader, implied Cregan Stark x Reader (you can interpret them as lovers or not). Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral m receiving, praising kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, Alys Rivers (but no cheating), Reader has a child, grief, light choking, not proofread.

Words count : 7600

Author's notes : Hi everyone !! Sooo I’m posting my first ever fanfic on here, my first x reader and my first fanfic for Aemond. I’m very anxious haha But well, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a RP that has been going on for months with my wonderful gf <3 She writes Aemond so well I swear and now she’s making me fall in love with Cregan too haha oops whatever. Some of Aemond’s lines in this fanfic are hers so of course the credits go to her 💕 Long story short the reader’s backstory is inspired by my OC! The plot doesn't make any sense but whatever

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

Enjoy 🖤

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met The night we met - Lord Huron

The snow had covered the landscape of Winterfell in a thin white layer so similar to ash, and the image tugged at your heart for a moment. Ashes. Fire. War. It was strange, the stillness that had followed the fury of screams and blood, of fire and ash, the constant anguish and pain of loss. It was like a long howl and then sudden silence. Life had resumed its course, the earth and the grass nurtured in red, as if nothing had happened, and that still irritated you sometimes, three years later.

For this peacefulness was a constant reminder of your life before. Before the war, before your own family ripped itself apart from within, before you lost him. There was something bitter in the thought that, in an alternate reality, you would have been happy with him by your side. The night brought its share of sweet dreams, lulled by the embrace of his arms, and you closed your eyes with ease, hoping to see his face again, which was fading day by day, desperately clinging to the details that made him.

It had been the best solution, you knew.

For there was no reality in which he could live as much as you wished for. And you had accepted your duty by straightening your shoulders, silencing your heart, digging your thumbnail into the inside of your wrist. Your stepfather had said he was dead; he had seen Vhaegar fall from the sky, wounded. He had seen the huge dragon crash into the water with all its weight. He had waited, and no silver hair had returned to the surface. He had searched and no body had been found.

So, he had returned, triumphant, with the conclusion that Aemond Targaryen was dead.

The room had swayed around you, but your fingers on the hard, rough wood of the table had kept you grounded. You had nodded, unsure, your ears ringing, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your tongue to hold back the tears that were beading at the edges of your eyes.

You knew it was inevitable, perhaps even fair. But it still hurt. It sill fucking hurt.

Daemon had reassured you by pointing out that you were now released from your marital obligation. A marriage to him that you had hoped for, waited for, dreamed of in your younger years. A marriage you had despised, once forced into, once made captive, a prisoner to be used against your own mother. And then a marriage that you had loved, cherished even, when he had opened up to you, when he had changed, when he had revealed that soft side despite his rough edges. And you loved him, truly. The childhood love, the shy love that had blossomed between laughter muffled behind the curtains, hand-in-hand runs through the Red Keep and reading session hidden under the library table, had been rekindled. Raw, devouring, bruised by war, but more powerful than ever.

Out of the corner of your eye you had caught a glimpse of the comforting gaze of your mother, the Queen, her gentle eyes searching for clues that would betray what you were feeling. It was she who had stroked your hair that evening, her presence welcome and soothing.

During the war, events had made you more uncertain than ever; blood and cheese had broken something in you. Suddenly shaken by the horrific actions of someone you hardly recognised, by the actions of your own family and the father figure who had raised you as his own daughter. You questioned your loyalties more than ever. Of course, you'd been devastated by Luke's death, your beloved little brother, so innocent, so sweet, and the despair you'd felt, the sadness, had gradually turned to anger.

Your desire for revenge had fed on your rage, on your anger.

And in your quest for revenge, you had grabbed the dagger hidden in your bodice when you had kissed him, when you had poisoned him with your lips and your body pressed against his. Perhaps it was cowardice to do it on your wedding night, right after the pitiful ceremony in which you had been forced to exchange your vows of fidelity, the humiliation of the white, blue, red and green cloak around your shoulders. Perhaps it was cowardice to wait for him to surrender to your touch, hard with desire, before plunging the blade straight into his heart.

But you didn't do it, in the end, the humiliation of your failure burning in your cheeks, and you had seen the horrible reality in the icy eye fixed on you: he was expecting it. He knew. He had anticipated you, as usual, one step ahead of you, ahead of your plans. And the humiliation was all the more bitter.

First he had defied you, knowing full well that you couldn't do it, despite your momentary hesitation. Then he had wiped away your tears, the sound of metal echoing off the floor as he captured your lips with his own.

And both you and he had sought to release the accumulated tension in the comfort of your naked bodies, in the rough, demanding thrusts.

You weren't quite sure when your relationship had changed. When he had become more forgiving. When he had trusted you. When he had become gentle. When you had felt him slipping away, subtly, almost imperceptibly. When you had begun to seek comfort in his arms, to seek the warmth of his body, to seek his love on his lips.

You loved him.

So you spent the nights lying awake in fear. Fearing the moment when you would have to make a choice. Fearing the moment when you would have to betray.

Which side would you choose when both armies were coming towards you, carrying the same flags, the same weapons, both calling your name?

Anxiety had spread its roots in the pit of your stomach, crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You felt as if you were losing your mind.

But the choice had been forced upon you without you having to make it. You had accepted it, as your duty demanded, as your loyalty to your family demanded.

Life at Winterfell wasn't so bad, quite the opposite in fact, despite the cold and snow you weren't used to. Cregan Stark was a good man. He had given you time and space to grieve, and had opened the castle gates to you with kindness. You had decided that you could get used to the cold and the snow, to the stone and the rustic wood, so different from the refineries of the capital, but infinitely warmer.

It was your choice, your departure for Winterfell. Dragonstone was still haunted by the ghost of Luke, by the ghosts of Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys and Rhaenys and all the family members you had lost. King's Landing was haunted, too. By your sweet aunt and her cries of despair, by Aegon's descent into madness, by the humiliations you had so gracefully endured, by the recurring announcements of deaths, by the smell of the innocents’ blood, by the pitiful looks of Alicent, who had seen in you the image of herself a few years earlier, powerless and manipulated.

But above all, it was haunted by him.

The weight of the memories had become unbearable and you needed to leave.

You chose Winterfell, hoping the cold would help you forget. And Jace had come with you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand with affection, always the protective, reassuring big brother he was to you. Probably glad to see his friend again, too. Your friend, to both of you.

But forgetting was something you'd never really been able to do, even less with the last memory he'd left you.

Now, just over three years later, you felt ready to return to King's Landing to visit your parents, to face the demons of your past and to mourn once and for all. It was inexplicable, perhaps a little strange, but you felt the need to go back.

On his first dragon ride, Rhaegar clapped his hands along the way, nestled into your arms in front of you, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his dark curls. Midnight, your dragon, as pleasant as ever, as easy and gentle as ever, took care to be careful with the two of you on his back.

When you arrived, Rhaenyra hugged you as tightly as she'd ever hugged you, her nose buried in your thick hair, before bending down to take her grandson in her arms.

"I've missed you, sweet girl." she said to you. You smiled and reached for her arm, glancing at your son who'd grabbed one of your mother's long silver curls: "Daemon has missed you too. You know he doesn't show his feelings, but... he missed you."

You smile, your eyes dropping to the floor. You missed them, too, terribly, despite the frequent letters.

"And of course... we’ve missed you too, little one!" Rhaenyra added, catching the child's nose with her thumb and forefinger, causing him to burst into laughter.

It felt good to be back. It was good to have regained some sort of routine in your daily life with your family. It was good to see the walls of the Red Keep return to their original familiarity, chasing away the ghosts you feared you might see again.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Perhaps you should have listened to your stepfather and not stray under any circumstances from the knight who has been following your every step with concern, afraid to lose sight of you.

Five years earlier, it was Sir Erryk's vigilance that you had deceived when you had carelessly followed your eldest uncle into the dangerous streets of the capital.

The streets of King's Landing offered you a freedom you had missed. But now you almost regret sneaking through the crowds to escape the vigilance of the knight who had escorted you. You decide to take a shortcut, the hood of your cloak pulled down over your forehead. It must have been your imagination. You aren’t on the worst side of the city, not like five years ago, and the streets have become safe, much safer now that your parents are in power.

Your footsteps led you to some stone steps, which you climb at full speed, your heart pounding in your chest. Glancing behind you, you disappear like a shadow around the corner of an alley, but the feeling is still there. You feel as if you are being followed.

At the Red Keep you already had the unpleasant feeling of being observed. In the gardens, with your son. Along the ramparts, enjoying the sea breeze on your face.

But you blamed it on your body's automatic response to the anxiety that had built up in all the years you'd spent within the walls of the Keep.

You slow your pace as you spot the dome and towers of the Great Sept at the end of the alley. From there you can easily find your way back to the Red Keep. All you had to do is keep moving, staring ahead, pressing your pace, wrapped in the thick wool of your cloak.

One step after the other. Breathing deeply. Half-moons in your palms.

The Great Sept growing closer give you a strange kind of reassurance.

And then suddenly, one hand closes over your mouth, the other around your waist. Your back bangs painfully against the cold stone wall of the winding alley into which you have been dragged. Fuck. Fuck.

You are too paralysed to struggle, too paralysed to bite the hand of the stranger holding you prisoner between the wall and his own body.

"You obviously learned nothing from my advice, Lady Strong," the icy voice whispers in the hollow of your ear. Your eyes widen.

That voice. It couldn't be.

Lady Strong. Lady Strong. Lady Strong.

It can’t be.

That is your sick mind playing tricks on you again.

"As reckless as ever, hm, aren't you? You could easily get yourself killed."

The stranger releases you and you look up again, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, searching for that icy blue, tinged with lilac, that have read through you so many times before.

It is impossible.

He has died three years before, falling from Vhaegar's back into the deep waters of the lake at Harrenhal.

Is it a ghost? Is it a hallucination?

"You are dead. You were dead," you whisper, more to yourself than to him, still in shock from the feel of his body against yours. You feel the tears that have formed at the corners of your eyes roll down your cheek, and your little fists pound his chest.

You have so much to say to him. So many things to reproach him for.

His hand cups your cheek to turn your head and force you to look at him, his thumb wiping away your tears.

The way he looks at you hasn’t changed; it still makes you shiver. You still feel that your uncle could read through you, that he could discover your deepest secrets. And there is still that hint of desire, too, that gleam in his one seeing eye.

You want to kiss him. You want to slap him.

He clenches his jaw as he pulls you against him, burying your face in his chest, his arms around you. He rests his chin on your head. One of his hands strokes your dark hair as you stifle sobs into the wool of his cloak.

The situation takes you back to your wedding night, when he had comforted you in the same way after you had told him that you couldn't hate him, even if you had tried.

"I know," you hear him whisper, the vocal cords vibrating from his throat against the top of your head.

He is standing there, in front of you. You cling to the fabric of his clothes with all your might, as if you're afraid he'll slip away again.

"How?" you ask, eyes closed, head against him. If he is to be taken from you again, you intend to enjoy every moment in his company.

He clenches again. You step back to look into his eyes, to search his enigmatic gaze for answers, for clues, for signs that would explain how. Why.

He doesn't answer you, but he is filled with desire as he grips your chin between his middle and index fingers, as he captures your lips with his own. You rediscover the possessiveness you've been missing. He pushes you a little harder against the wall behind you, as if to remind you who you belong to. Who you were married to.

A familiar warmth blossoms between your thighs, a warmth you haven't felt for too long. You're trapped, right there, your uncle towering over you, trapped between the wall and his body. His fingers close around your jaw and you kiss him back hungrily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

You're perfectly aware that the situation is surreal. You're perfectly aware that you're making a mistake, that you shouldn't respond to the kiss of the man who used to be your husband, not when he's technically still your enemy, not when he's technically dead.

But you shut out the voices in your head begging you to stop.

"I still want to hate you, you know," you breathe between his parted lips. He merely mutters hm in reply, trying to shut you up again, his hands wandering under your cape, tracing the ribs of the body he'd missed so much. He reaches for your waist, your hips, which he grabs meanly.

There's no one in the alley around you, but the hood over his head hides his long silver hair anyway.

"Three fucking years." Your lips leave his, a mixture of anger and desire bubbling up from your lower belly. Aemond stares at you, his jaw clenched. He knows you need to unleash your emotions when you don't read an ounce of regret in his gaze. "Three. Fucking. Years. And you've told me nothing. You never sought to -"

"I couldn't," he retorts harshly. He seems to be searching for words to explain something you could not possibly understand, but his gaze does not soften. You know he needs time, you've learned to know him. You've waited three years, what's another moment? But you're tired, and your patience isn't as strong as it used to be. You look away, a mocking laugh escaping your lips as you repeat his justification. "You couldn't."

"And risk your mother executing me?" He forces you to look at him again, and you feel the lump form in your throat. You know you are perhaps being unfair, but you were alone for those three years while you mourned him, so alone, and in a way, you want to make him pay.

"You were dead to me, qybor." Uncle. You feel him twitch at the mention of your family tie, at the nickname he used to love to hear on your tongue. "I had to live with the idea that you would never come back."

The tears that had dried on your cheeks threaten to flow again, pooling at the corners of your eyes. Aemond sighs.

"I thought I was dead too," he whispers. You can feel the tension in every one of his muscles. There's a moment of hesitation, a silence that hovers between you. You have so many questions, but you don't know where to begin. Not a sound leaves your lips.

"She tended to my wounds," he adds, and you frown in confusion. "Alys."

Alys. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he keeps you pinned to the wall. Alys, you remember the rumours whispered in your ear by that rat of Larys - those false rumours, you remind yourself - but you can't help feeling your heart clench. You don't trust your voice enough to speak, to say anything.

"There's no one left in Harrenhal but her," he adds, as if you need that clarification, as if you need to know where he's been all this time.

You say nothing. Your throat is tight. If you speak, if you look at him, you'll cry again and betray your feelings all over again. You refuse to make a fool of yourself, not now.

"She's the one who saw you. In Winterfell." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice as he mentions the place where you've spent the last few years rebuilding yourself, trying to forget him. A bit of anger, perhaps, too.

"Cregan Stark welcomed me indeed," you reply curtly. Perhaps you want to hurt him as he hurt you, but you are deliberately vague in your answer. "I have mourned you, qybor."

Everything is so confused in your mind. A paradoxical blend of desire, anger, sadness, jealousy. Of love too.

You want to strangle him and melt on his lips at the same time, and you know that after all this time you should be used to feeling this paradox of emotions with Aemond. Your uncle was a set of contradictions all his own.

"I saw you. On Midnight. That's how I knew you were here."

You nod. Words don't work between you, you know that. It has always been like that; the habit of letting silence speak more than words. The habit of communicating through the carnal acts of your bodies against each other. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Aemond pushes you against the wooden door as soon as you enter the mediocre room of the inn. He is demanding, more than ever, as his hands run along your hips to your thighs to lift you up and press you against the door, your legs closing around him. He watches you with hungry eyes, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. You can't stop a moan from escaping your lips.

There's something feverish, passionate, urgent about the kiss. And when his tongue begs for an opening, your lips part to welcome him. There is only you in this room, an interlude where nothing else exists, where you don't have to worry about your duties and loyalties, where you are guided by nothing but passion.

His hand slams against the wall next to your head and with a movement of his hips he lifts you a little higher onto his waist, your legs locked tightly around him. He grunts into the crook of your neck at the friction of your crotch against his.

"Tell me to stop." His hand which isn't against the wall to support your weight slides up to your jaw. He lifts your chin, his gaze locked in yours, searching for clues, anything that would betray your desire to end whatever it is you're doing. "Tell me to stop now, or I won't be able to."

You don't want to stop. You should, you know you should, but you silence the little voice in your conscience that's begging you to pull yourself together, to end it all before you've even started, before you've even gone too far, and you kiss him with more vigour, with more fervour.

"I'm not going to tell you to stop, qybor," you whisper against his lips. "You know that."

His hardened member twitches beneath you at the mention of the High Valyrian, at the mention of that nickname he's so fond of. It's his weakness, you know, and despite the three years he's been away, he hasn't changed.

It's so good to feel him against you again, to feel his lips against yours, along your jawline to the junction with your neck. In one sharp movement, he rolls his hips to meet yours, pressing you a little harder against the wooden wall, and he catches your moan between his lips.

You know that tonight there will be no shy touches between you, no awkward explorations like in the early days of your love, when it wasn't tainted by war, blood, and death yet. You and he will both be consumed by the burning fire of passion. You both need to release that tension and frustration, to make up for lost time, to drown, drunk with desire, in the most carnal of acts. All that matters now are his hands on your body to ease the pain pulsing between your thighs, the desperate need to feel him inside you.

The barrier of your clothes frustrates you. You need to feel his skin against yours, to feel all of him, and your hand runs down his body to pull at the cord holding his breeches together. Immediately his fingers close around your wrist to hold you back. He wants to be in control, you know. But it has been three years and something about you just isn't the same.

"Let me worship you like I used to, qybor," you whisper against his lips, your forehead pressed against his, and you feel his jaw tighten. There's a moment of hesitation in his eyes, clouded by desire.

His thumb caresses your lips, pressing against your lower lip. You part them, just enough for the tip of your tongue to wet the top of his thumb. There are no further words exchanged between you, just silence, punctuated by your gasping breaths. His hand closes around your throat, not pressing too hard, just enough so you can feel the weight of his palm against your windpipe, just to remind you that he's in complete control of the situation.

Fuck, you've missed it; the adrenaline of his hand around your throat, the adrenaline of knowing he could do anything to you and you'd be defenceless.

"On your knees then."

The command echoes through the room and you feel the wetness seeping between your thighs as you slide to your knees in front of him. Your eyes shine with envy and you look up at him as you did years ago. You know he can't resist the angelic look on your face when you're between his thighs. You know he can't resist the dichotomy between the innocent look on your face and the sinful act you're about to commit. He revels in your submission, and that's something you've learned to use against him.

Your uncle releases his cock from his breeches, his hand wrapped around the base, and the desire you feel between your thighs becomes more and more unbearable. The head is already glistening with anticipation, white pearls beading at the slit, and it takes all of Aemond's self-control not to grab you by the hair and force himself into your mouth entirely.

Closing the distance, he rubs his member against your lips to spread the wetness before pushing into your mouth. Your lips close around him. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the hand holding the base of his manhood is replaced by yours to cover what you can't take. Your tongue curls around the tip first, absorbing his salty taste, and you look up at him through your long lashes. He doesn't look away from you.

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caresses your cheekbone before sliding to the corner of your lips, just where his length disappears between them. It's as if he's hypnotised by the spectacle, by the bobbing of your head, by your hollowed cheeks, by your application and devotion.

His hands leave your jaw and sink into your thick curls, urging you to take him a little deeper, and he thrusts between your lips with more vigour. You close your eyes, concentrating on not choking as his member touches the back of your throat. You take it as diligently and assiduously as ever, ignoring the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

"That's it, just like that. Such a good girl, mandianna [niece], such a good wife," you hear him grunt, his movements more erratic, more jerky, and you revel in his praise, sending a new wave of heat between your thighs. "Only for me."

You feel him throb on your tongue. You know it won't be long now, and you prepare yourself to welcome him, to let the salty taste of his seed flood your tongue, but your uncle pulls back reluctantly.

"I would rather not waste." he whispers, his eyes riveted on the thread of saliva that connects your lips, glistening with saliva and precum, to the tip of his cock. You shudder. Aemond definitely hasn't changed much, you realise.

His hand finds your cheek again and he caresses your lips to spread the mess you've made by sucking him. You know he isn't finished. This is just the beginning and you're both driven by the consuming hunger of passion. You know what's coming now, your core clenching around nothing, and you rub your thighs together, in an attempt to soothe the impatience.

He urges you to stand. He has that predatory look in his eyes as he closes the distance between you with his determined steps.

" Undress," he orders, and you do not take your eyes off him as you untie the linen dress you had put on to disguise yourself as a common girl.

The garment falls heavily to the floor, forming a grey puddle at your feet, and you take a step forward.

"Do you not like seeing me dressed in rags, qybor?" you ask in a playful tone, teasing, referring to the time, years ago, when he had rescued you during your adventurous walk along the grim Silk Road where your uncle Aegon had accidentally led you.

The memory was so close and yet so far away.

Aemond takes a step towards you, his hand brushing aside the long hair that hides your breasts to tuck it behind your shoulder.

"Not when you are meant to be my Queen." His eye glow with desire. He studies your body in detail as his fingers slide down your collarbone to your breasts. His thumb traces their underside before moving up to your nipples, hardened by the cool evening air and desire. He plays with them, eliciting a moan that satisfies him. He looks at you like one looking at a prize, a long-awaited gift.

"Three years away from my beautiful wife," he whispers, his good eye gleaming as he looks at your breasts.

"You did have pleasant company in Harrenhal though, didn't you?" you hiss through your teeth and Aemond's hand suddenly closes around your throat to make you swallow your insolence. You're not afraid, not anymore, for you know he won't hurt you. You have this power over him and it's delicious.

His face is so close to yours that your noses are touching.

He doesn't let go of you.

"It wasn't like that." He whispers. "With her." You know he's sincere because he's almost awkward with his words, his explanation. You can see in his eye that there are so many other things he would like to tell you, but you have learned not to rush him. It has always been difficult for him to open up, to be vulnerable.

His fingers release you. Aemond is a good head taller than you, and as he puts a hand on your shoulder, moving forward to force you back until your knees hit the mattress, your eyes remain fixed on his.

Your uncle lays you down on the mattress. It's not the comfort of the bed you once shared, but you don't care, you just need him inside you.

You need him to make you feel whole again. Aemond was fire, and you were willing to burn for him. You had always burned for him.

In the candlelight of the small bedroom where you spend the night, you see his thumbs slip under the waistband of his breeches. His clothes quickly join yours on the floor.

There's something soothing about the weight of his naked body on top of yours. Once under him, you know you can surrender completely to him and stop thinking, just stop thinking.

His lips on yours, his hands on your body, his broad torso eclipsing your smaller figure.

He places kisses down your neck to your collarbone, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave purple marks that will blossom tomorrow.

He kisses your breast, his lips closing around an erect nipple which he sucks gently, then around the other. Your hands are buried in his long silver hair. You can feel how wet you are between your thighs. You need him desperately, right there.

The confidence with which his fingers slide down your waist, from your hips to your inner thighs, only emphasises his ravenous expression. His touch on your folds sends a wave of heat through your body, causing your hips to move against his hand. Softly tracing the curves of your crotch, his index and middle fingers finally part your folds to collect the wetness that has formed there.

"Is it sucking your husband's cock that has got you so wet?

Yes, you want to answer, seeking more contact, but the words are stuck in your throat.

"Stay still," he orders in a hoarse voice as you move your hips, his hands gripping your hips to pin you back against the mattress.

You comply, for once, because you know he won't give you what you want otherwise. And you can't wait any longer, not today, not when you thought you'd never feel his warmth against your body again, his hands on your hips, his cock inside you.

"You see, you can be a good girl." His voice is softer when you obey. And to reward you, his fingers slide to your entrance, where he applies a little pressure with the tip of his middle finger without actually penetrating you. "Now beg your husband to fill you."

"Please, qybor," you murmur, your hand taking his cheek to bring his face to yours. You want him to look at you. "Please, I need you inside."

Oh, the slowness and precision with which his finger plunges into you makes you throw your head back. He begins to move back and forth, his index finger joining his middle one, caressing your spongy walls, his thumb tracing circles around your bud. Curling his fingers, he strokes that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and you clutch the sheets beneath you.

You feel your centre tighten around his fingers, the release you've been looking for so close, so very close. You shut your eyes, ready for the familiar wave of warmth to wash over your entire body, but your uncle pulls his fingers away. You grunt in frustration.

You open your eyes only to see Aemond bring his fingers to his lips indecently, spreading your wetness over his own lips. "You still taste so good," he purrs, and you feel the blush rise to your cheeks.

He leans over to kiss you and you taste yourself on his lips. It's indecent.

He pulls back and you see him wrap his hand around his hardened cock, the head angrily red and already drooling in anticipation. He guides himself to your core, rubbing his length between your folds, coating it with your glistening juices.

The round tip of his member enters you, slowly at first, stretching your narrow entrance as if to give you time to adjust. Aemond pushes and he sinks easily into you until he's fully seated, your warm, wet walls feeling heavenly around him, squeezing him just right.

" You are so tight," he growls against you as your arms close around him, your legs bent and pressed to either side of his body.

He gives you a moment to get used to having him inside you again, to feeling him so deeply. It's exactly what you need; he stretches you deliciously, with a perfect touch of controlled pain.

You feel whole again and you want to cry. You never want to lose that feeling. You want to keep him, against you, inside you.

You close your eyes and bury your head in the hollow above his shoulder, clinging to him as if to feel him more deeply, more intimately.

"You can move," you reply, rolling your hips to support your words. Aemond's hand immediately presses down on your stomach to hold you against the mattress and you bite your lower lip, almost guilty of forgetting his earlier command. He always has that need to control. He's the one who decides, you should know it after all these years, and you should stop being so demanding, so desperate.

"I said stay still," he scolds you, and the waiting is unbearable.

You need him.

When he finally pulls out and thrusts into you again, you let out a whimper. Your nails dig into the pale skin of his back, leaving crescent marks that will probably still be there the next day.

Once under him, Aemond has the ability to make you vulnerable, and part of you hate him for it.

"You take me so well," he growls after a particularly brutal thrust. "You're such a good girl."

The praise is sweet music to your ears. You have always needed it, to be praised, complimented.

You feel him hitting that special spot deep inside you, you feel him pressing in so deeply and your grip tightens around him.

"Did you miss me?" you whisper in a voice made weak by pleasure, but all you get in return are the hoarse grunts of his voice.

Aemond lowers his eyes to look at where you are joined, hypnotised by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you. The rhythm he imposes is powerful, deep, and his fingers find their way between your bodies, reaching your little bud at the top of your folds to trace circles on it. You won't last long and he knows it as he feels your walls tighten desperately around him. Your moans grow louder.

"Look at me." His voice barely brings you back to reality, even though your mind is already far away, even though you know you can't last much longer. Painfully, you open your eyes to meet your uncle's icy gaze. " I am going to fill you up." His pacing becomes more erratic, more sloppy, and you know he won't last much longer either. Leaning on his forearm, he continues to stroke your pearl in small circles. "I am going to fill you up and you're going to take it all."

The image of you, belly round with his child, haunts him. It never stopped haunting him, even on the brink of death, even when he thought he'd exhaled his last breath as he fell into the icy waters of the lake, his heart clenched with regret and remorse. It still is a wonder that he has survived. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Gods still had plans for him.

I'm going to fill you up. Words like that shouldn't bring you to ecstasy, and yet they do. Aemond reaches deeper, and as he feels your whole body convulse with the spasms of your orgasm, he joins you in your release. He spills his seed deep inside you before remaining still, buried against your womb, enjoying your warmth, making sure he's pouring every last drop into you.

He doesn't want to pull out, not yet, and you close your arms around his neck, your breast pressed against his chest as he softens inside you.

The weight of his body on yours is comforting. For the first time in years, you feel alive. For the first time in years, the open wound he left seems to be healing.

When he pulls out, you wince at the sensation of his cock slipping between your still too sensitive folds. You immediately miss the feeling of fullness.

You barely move, your whole body still sore from your lovemaking, but you can feel his cum leaking from your entrance onto the mattress below.

Again, Aemond's fingers are between your thighs that are glistening with the intimate essence of both of you, collecting his own seed and pushing it back into you. You whimper, still too sensitive, your lips brushing against his, and he remains inside you for a brief moment. He wants to make sure nothing is wasted.

And when he withdraws his fingers, he presses them against your lips for you to clean them.

You snuggle up against him, your head against his chest. Your hand caresses his chest, the fine line of his muscles, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close. You enjoy the warmth of his body while you still can. Between your thighs you feel the sticky sensation of his seed mixing with your wetness as it still flows out of you, but you don't want to leave the embrace of his arms.

"I saw you in the gardens. With the child."

When you feel his throat vibrate, you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "It was you, then?" You swallow. "It was you watching me." It's more of an observation than a question, and you suddenly understand that constant, uncomfortable feeling of being watched. At least you weren't crazy.

He lets out a hm and pauses.

"Is he yours?"

You know where this question is leading. You fear the moment of truth. You'd deluded yourself into thinking you could avoid it, but you were naive; did you really think you could hide the truth from him for much longer, now that he was back?

"Yes." You answer, looking away. You're nervous, and he can feel it.

"He's Cregan Stark's son, isn't he?"

Your heart clenches. You hesitate for a moment. You should lie. You know you should lie. To protect your son and your family, as you've protected them for the past three years. You only need one word.

You hear him sighing beneath you, taking your silence as confirmation.

"No, he's not."

The words leave your lips before you can even stop them. You hold your breath. Beneath you, Aemond tenses. He straightens, puzzled, silent.

"A bastard, then?" His voice is dry, almost mocking, revealing a form of irritation. "I did not expect this from you, dear niece." Disappointment.

You feel anger boiling inside you at the thought of him insulting your son, your sweet boy you love so much. You swallow the lump that has formed in your throat and rise on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn your hard gaze on him.

You don't know how to express the words that are desperately trying to escape your lips.

" He has blue eyes," you add, and you can see the confusion on his face. A lock of hair slips from your shoulder and falls around your face. "Your blue eyes."

You feel him tense up. He says nothing, just stares at you with his one seeing eye. It's rare to see Aemond Targaryen so unsure of himself, so full of doubt. He stares at you as if he's afraid he's heard you wrong, as if he's afraid he's invented the words that have come out of your mouth.

"What did you say?"

You look away. You bite your lower lip, regretting your words. You want to bury your face in his chest. You breath.

"He is your son, Aemond." You finally admit it.

It's true that Rhaegar's brown curls could easily make him look like a Stark. Cregan had offered to raise him as his own, and you had smiled at his kindness.

Rhaegar is so much like you. Like you, and like Luke, and especially like Jace as a child, of whom he is the spitting image. He has the soft features of your face, but his eyes make him undeniably Aemond's son.

Your uncle holds you close, his arm wrapped around your waist, his long nose buried in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair.

"My son," he repeats in awe. It's rare to see Aemond smile with sincerity. Especially after the war has worn him down, made him more ruthless than ever.

"His name is Rhaegar," you say. "Just as we discussed." There's shyness in your voice.

He straightens, you on top, straddling him, and he seeks your lips to kiss you fiercely. His desire awakens beneath you; you feel him harden against your core again.

And this time, he makes love to you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

"I missed the best part." He purrs against you, his hand absently caressing your breast before sliding down your body to rest on your flat stomach, just above where your womb lies. He clenches his hand possessively over your flesh. His voice is almost tinged with regret. Your hand rests on his.

"You shouldn't have left me," you reply, bitter. Deep down, you're still angry with him. Your gaze falls on your stomach, where both your hands lie, yours on top of his, clasped together. "You shouldn't have let your anger dictate your actions," you add, looking away. "But you were blinded by your desire for revenge, by your desire to prove that you could be better than him.” You swallow.

It is his fault, after all, that he missed your son's birth, that he didn't see him grow through the tender years of his infancy.

Rhaegar needed a father, and it was Cregan who raised him.

"Does he even know who I am? Who his father is?"

The guilty look on your face betrays you, and you know immediately that you've hurt his feelings. It may be selfish of you, but he needs to understand.

"You were supposed to be dead. There's still a lot he doesn't know."

He doesn't say anything. You don't have the courage to meet his hard, stern gaze, you don't have the courage to see the disappointment and pain on his face, because if you do, your heart will tighten and you will fall apart.

"He's still so young. Give him time." You add, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his hand, in an attempt to soothe him.

You know how much Aemond wanted a son, and you know it's cruel to take that from him. You know he would have made a good father. You can picture him with Rhaegar on his knee, reading him stories, telling him about the adventures of Vhagar and Visenya, and you love the image that forms in your mind.

You told Rhaegar about Aemond, though he was still too young to understand. You told him that his father had once owned the greatest dragon in the world, that his father was a fearless man for it was true, and you saw his big eyes light up.

Aemond pulls you closer to him. "I want to be there for him, you know." Unlike Viserys, but he doesn't have to say it, you understand what he means in the undertone he leaves at the end of his sentence. He has always suffered from his father's indifference.

You cuddle up to him and he runs his fingers through your long curls. For a moment, you imagine that everything is fine and you search for his touch. He plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I've missed you," he admits, the words landing on the tips of his lips in the silence of the bedroom, but you're already dozing off.

You know that tomorrow will be made up of choices and decisions.

But for now, you fall asleep in the embrace of his very real arms, for once, enjoying the illusion of the life you both could have had.

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x niece!reader #aemond targaryen fanfic

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sl33paholics · 11 months ago

Text

Baki's Reaction To Your Ex Trying To Get You Back Headcanons! (and a mini story ig)

Uhm.....it's 6am as I write this and I'm giggling my ass off

To say that Baki would come up and beat the shit out of your ex on the spot right in front of you and others is an understatement.

Baki is more of a quiet observator. Rather than confrontational, Baki might choose to observe your ex from a distance, assessing the encounter with a calm demeanor, possibly seeing it as an opportunity to reaffirm your commitment.

Baki's not an idiot. He can choose to downplay the situation, opting not to give your ex's attempt much attention, focusing instead on maintaining the positive dynamics of your relationship.

Known for his actions more than words, Baki might subtly intensify his efforts to show affection and support, reinforcing Baki's commitment through deeds rather than direct confrontation.

Baki knows how much you love to post yourself on social media. The latest fits, shoes, or with your friends. He's aware that your ex still follows you, even though you unfollowed him many, many months ago. Expect Baki to always hype you up in the comments under your posts on Instagram by spamming hearts and down-bad shit as well, he's most likely getting pinned every time.

Hell, if you're not posting yourself, you're sharing photos of the two of you on dates and random shit. Such as the you two at the gym. Baki's arms always wrapped around your shoulders or his hands gripping your hips. Baki can tell your ex is salty, he stalks his story on an alt account, LOL!

Sometimes, Baki could sense how annoyed and bothered you are whenever you'd see accounts named "shien_giveaway_6997" viewing your story. It's so obvious! Baki values honesty, and he'd engage in an open conversation with you about the situation, discussing any concerns or insecurities. Baki doesn't want a pretty woman like you stressing out over a man who couldn't keep his dick in his pants.

If you don't want to speak to him about the whole situation, Baki could respond with affectionate gesture, like a surprise date or a thoughtful gift, to reaffirm his commitment and show that he values and appreciates you. He could even use humor and make jokes about your ex's attempts to diffuse the tension.

However, it could only be so long until the man could entertain your ex before he was going to be pushed off the edge.

Baki could opt for a straightforward conversation, expressing his feelings and concerns calmly while speaking to the man via text message or phone. While not confrontational, Baki gives off a subtle warning vibe, a non-verbal cue that communicates the depth of his commitment and suggests that attempting to disrupt the relationship won't be taken lightly.

This could go two ways. 1) Your ex could simply back off and respect your wishes that your current relationship holds. Or 2) your ex could simply be cocky, shouting at him over the phone, insulting him to insert dominance, and other things to Baki as he's just there sitting silently listening to him yap yap yap yap yap yap yap -

It just so happens that Baki and your ex stumbled across each other while in the city.

Guess you can see where this is going.

Seeing Baki's size, your ex laughed and berated him. How can a man his height cuff YOU up? He couldn't believe it. How low were your expectations? He was tall and built. Baki? Sure. He was ripped but SHORT.

"I don't have time for this," Baki simply said, making your ex raise a brow in confusion. "(Y/N) is waiting for me, I can't have my love waiting." Baki walked past the taller figure, his hands in his pockets. He stopped once your ex pulled on his shirt, tugging and pulling Baki back.

"A short boy like you can't do shit!" Your ex would spat. The smell of cigarettes reeked and made Baki want to cough in his face. "Suddenly coming 'round and stealin' MY girl away from me?! I should punch you in your shit-"

It's safe to say that Baki hit this man with a two-piece combo. A slap and a roundhouse kick sent that man straight to sleep on the sidewalk. Baki stared at the unconscious man before sighing. Continuing his journey towards your place.

Hours later, your phone begins to blow up from your friends of the picture of your ex on the sidewalk earlier that day. You confronted Baki only for him to pout and say, "He ruined my shirt :("

You couldn't be mad at him. At least your ex knew not to fuck with you and your boyfriend anymore.

#anime #black writers #female writers #poc writer #black reader #x black reader #fluff #baki #baki smut #baki son of ogre #baki hanma #baki the grappler #headcanon prompts #headcanon #jack hanma #yujiro hanma #kaoru hanayama #crack fic #baki headcanons

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the-daydreaming-show · 7 months ago

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Concept/Sneak Peek: Aegon II Targaryen x OlderSister!Reader.

(UPDATE JUNE 2: I haven't forgotten about this, half of it is already written, but I'm having exams, so until the beginning of next month I won't be able to sit down and write, BUT I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN I'M GOING TO FINISH IT I SWEAR! !!)

“Do you love me?” Aegon asked in a tearful whisper. He looked angelic, in his white pajamas and his violet eyes filled with tears that refused to fall but were clearly there. The question had come out of nowhere, but you still answered it without any hesitation.

“Of course I love you, Aegon,” you told him, whispering back and making him feel like it was just you and him in the world. He looked at you surprised, perhaps a little relieved, and a tear slid down his cheek. “You are my brother, my blood. I love the bones off you, husband.”

The need struck Aegon suddenly, just with that, and he began to pray in his mind to the gods that you would take his offer. Well, now he did not want for anything in the world that his mother would fulfill her mission and annul your marriage. There was nothing more in the world than he wanted to stay by your side for the rest of his life, now he understood that.

Where you, the youngest daughter of Aemma and Viserys, married Aegon, the eldest son of Alicent Hightower, after the incident of the eye of Aemond in Driftmark. Years after your marriage, you fulfill your duty as Hand of the King. Since no children have been born from you union, your stepmother plans to request the annulment of your marriage, to marry Aegon to a daughter of the Baratheon. This is to ensure the support of that house when Viserys dies.

Aegon, who has enjoyed suffocating freedom since he married you when he was only fourteen, doesn't want that, and for the wrong reasons. He resigns himself to doing his duty in order to remain free, you two need a child, but he finds himself with something much better than freedom: a life tied to you.

(Let me know if you're interested in a fanfic like this, I could make it a series, because I love the concept, but I don't know.

Edit: Let me know if you want to be tag in the the post)

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catatombi · 4 months ago

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beware of fang

Hey, im gonna say it outright and state that this is a call out. people get called out for being dangerous. fangs nearly pushed 3 people to commit suicide(including myself) and i had to be hospitalized because of him, so this feels justified. Im sorry if you disagree, ill keep it short and to the point If you’ve been a long time follower of his im sure you’ve seen his vague posts about his ex friends, the cotl tumblr community and “fandom drama” with little to no context behind it, other than various people appearing on his DNI. his vague nature in the posts is intentional, he doesn't want to let on that he was abusing his friends. Ive tried time and time again to write something but it never seemed right, like what he’s done to me and my friends wasn’t severe enough to warrant something like this, but it is and i don't want to let this go any longer, esp not when he has my friends, their names, usernames and literal contact information in his DNI list Over the last year ive been friends with fang hes been horrible. Hes never changed and refuses to acknowledge what hes done to his friends and how horribly he has hurt them, to keep this short im keeping this bullet pointy Here is his carrd, he has everything neatly outlined for yall to block on every platform Dont harass, dont contact. all of this is public information so https://web.archive.org/web/20240713073710/https://fanged-info.carrd.co/#boundaries

https://fanged-info.carrd.co/ Twit: FFANGEDD / narilamb_ / mewhenimsilly Insta: ffangedd / narilamb Tumblr: ffangedd / fanged-cotl / fanged-xeno Cara: narilamb Blusky: fanged / narilamb Itaku: fanged Artfight: FANGED Toyhouse: FFANGEDD Sheezy: fanged Discord & telegram: narilamb All the people mentioned have given consent Cw !!! abuse, suicide, self harm https://drive.google.com/drive/u/2/folders/1MLMOT-qvgrX-9NnUEgpl4AkEPfixy2wG

The drive is a bit out of date, as I logged it all before april. Hes posted more awful shit and vented to me again since then Feel free to request the letter i wrote to him, i might share it anyway because it sums up my thoughts on the matter If you want any additional context feel free to ask

Fang uses suicide and self harm threats to control and manipulate his friends, hes begged me for assisted suicide and when i refused to help him commit he begged in groupchats. He begged on instagram stories as well as twitter, so much so that his twitter for suspended for 12 hours. He has admitted to wanting someone to commit suicide with him and has previously formed suicide pacts and nearly followed through on one with a friend. fang backed out first. he continues to redirect blame. refusing to take accountability for his actions. He still blames his previous medications, his ex psychiatrist, his self diagnosed BPD & OCD, psychosis, and states of beings from disorders he doesn't have (claiming to be manic or sociopathic whilst not having bipolar1 or ASPD) fang blames his (ex)friends, claiming they were projecting their mental illness onto him when they were just reacting to his abuse, that they the ones in the wrong and that how they treated him/cut him off was vile and unfair, and believes that he never got real closure when he did. it just wasn't what he wanted to hear and now feels entitled to an apology from these people when all he’s ever done is traumatize and terrorize them. He describes the amount in which he has cut over pavi, wart and kat because what they put him through and how they traumatized him. The traumatizing actions were: Kat asking for a content warning, pavi didn't want to walk on eggshells anymore and blocked him without an explanation & wart blocked him after being emotionally abused for months Hes described how he would carve their names into his thigh and told me that he will carve my name into his skin when i leave too. He demanded wart and surf choose their “real friends” and cut off their community for him because fang hated that they were being “two-faced” and hanging out with “people who hate him” He would spend hours venting relentlessly and graphically in his friends DMs, demanding their time and attention and expecting immediate replies. His friends are not professionals and shouldnt be expected to be an on-call DIY therapist for him, for hours, without consent. Fang has said he is completely unwilling to self censor for other peoples safety fang has vented to a 13 year old (they were not hiding their age) He referred to me (and our friends) as a phone person, a voice, icons. Concepts he can talk. Completely dehumanizing everyone that cared about him even to their faces. He blames his ex friends for his poor mental health and has said he wishes they watched him commit suicide, he wanted his friends to be traumatized from this (as if they werent already.) When a friend posted a screenshot of a gamenight to tumblr he had a breakdown so severe and so dangerous for so long that several of his friends has to mute the DM to keep themselves safe from his verbal abuse and suicide/SH threats He doesn't care about how triggering any of this can be for someone and will subject anyone (including people in danger) to his “venting” He didnt care about triggering me and contacted me at the worst of my suicidality in january and exasperated the danger i was in so severely I had to be hospitalized against my will before I could commit suicide.

Im honestly not entirely sure what to even think. he knew the severity of my suicidality. he knew I had been hospitalized for an attempt in 2022, and still he chose me, probably the most vulnerable of his friends at the time to vent that heavily too back in janurary Hes a dangerous selfish person whos proven over and over that hes not getting better and isnt willing to change, i honestly had hope when he slowed down his graphic vent posts and victim blaming on twitter and insta but he decided to say fuck all and get right back into his shit train of shame and misery. Heres a link to all of the screenshot, damning ones are in important bitz if you’re not interested in going through them all https://drive.google.com/drive/u/2/folders/1MLMOT-qvgrX-9NnUEgpl4AkEPfixy2wG in these screens alone he: admits to sending his cuts to his friends, threatens to cut if i leave, admits that he was going to go through with a duel suicide and begged me for assisted suicide

warts screenshots v

full screenshots & complete context in the drive as for him claims that i was stalking him: i was scared, i was his friend. i tried so hard to be good enough and never was. the screens were a by product of confiding in my friends about what was happening and the drive was made to share w/ them i admit i prolly shouldve combed out some of it but, ykno also big phat apology for tagging cotl!!!!! only did bc fang has, please stay safe everyone, and thank you so much if you have read everything (the doc encase anyone was wanting it ! figured i;d just use tumblr regular posting method) https://docs.google.com/document/d/17QjXUEdQVd8c4GZS--vPo-xR3kgmoLl4ZmN3ROMutg0/edit?usp=sharing

edit as of 8:30pm 7/17/24 here is a link to pavi's response warts response and kats response

#cult of the lamb #SORRY FOR TAGGING GUYS ILY #cw call0ut #ffangedd

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hispg · 11 months ago

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Love

Pairings: Fuckboy! Leon X Fem! Reader

Summary: Maybe he loves everything about you, or maybe he hates you. Yet he always looks for you when he needs you.

That must mean something, right?

Wc:2.6k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, p in v, masturbation( m receiving), reverse cowgirl, smoking during sex, mentions of weed and alcohol, slightly praise/degradation, toxic relationship, light angst, finger riding.

An: I should have posted this a few days ago, but recently I've been feeling quite insecure about my writing.Even so, I decided to post it.

Also as a thank you to the 600 followers! Seriously! Last month I had 200, and now I've basically tripled that!I feel very grateful and happy that each and every one of you takes the time to read what I write! Leaving a comment or reblogging, the likes also motivate me a lot! That's very special to me.

If all goes well, tomorrow I'll post 2 pieces of smut, one related to Leon being your childhood friend (more cute and awkward? Idk), and the other will be with breeding kink (🤨). It'll be kind of a thank you to the 600 followers.

Thanks again! 💖💖💕

He loves the way your body lies on the floor, he loves the way you breathe. The breathless smile you give him every time you've just had sex.

Or even the way you let yourself be so exposed to him, lying completely naked, without a shred of shame.

He may love all this about you, but he doesn't love you. If that makes any sense.

Maybe he's too fucked up to be thinking like that, or maybe he's blaming it on the weed. Even if he was quite lucid.

He already knew he'd be leaving soon, it was always like that. Sex without commitment, just for fun. He insisted on muttering these phrases to himself every time he was with you.

You made him feel so alive that he even forgot that it wasn't supposed to mean anything, it was just another fling.

If it was just one more, why did he keep coming back to you? Why was it that every time he wanted to talk late at night he called you, at the very least it had to mean something. Or maybe it was just a coincidence of fate?

He can't say, to be quite honest. He was probably just thinking too much, maybe he just liked you for the affection you gave him, which frankly he adored.

Maybe he'd fallen under that spell.

"Are you leaving?" You ask in a whisper, offering the same sweet smile as always.

"Soon, doll." He says in a whisper, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

It seems you've managed to take his mind off his own thoughts, and now he's looking you up and down with a thoughtful expression.

After a few seconds he responds with a nod, taking a cigarette from his pack and lighting it.

Gestures like that weren't common from him, but it was different with you. And frankly, it made your heart flutter every time.

You knew you shouldn't feel anything for him, you always did. But who says the heart obeys reason?

"Can't you sleep here?" You asked in a purr, laying your head on his lap and lightly kissing his thighs.

He sighed, taking a long drag on his cigarette, blowing the smoke away from your face.

"You know I won't." The answer was always the same, he didn't even try to disguise it every time you asked.

It wasn't that he couldn't, it was that he didn't want to. And he wouldn't give in so easily.

Nobody said you couldn't make him have a reason to stay, or that you couldn't induce him to say yes for once.

"Don't look at me like that." He mutters, giving you a weak sideways smile.

He knew that look, he knew all the tricks you played on him. And hell if he said he didn't like every one of the things that you do for him.

You still didn't stop, kissing and kneading his inner thighs, watching him as you did it. Letting him stare into your gentle eyes as you tried to persuade him with your antics.

"You're so fucking dirty…" He says under his breath, taking another drag on his cigarette.

He didn't stop looking at you for a second, his hand coming up to stroke your hair, making it clear that you wanted him to continue, and that you had his permission to do whatever you wanted.

He didn't care, in any case if you questioned him about his softer attitudes, he would just say it was the effect of the weed.

Even if it was just a lie to disguise his pride.

Even if you didn't notice, but his expression was always so gentle with you, even if it wasn't such a lived change, but it was there.

And he couldn't hide it any longer from the moment you nibbled and licked his thighs, making him shudder at the sensation that began to arise in his body. The goosebumps that appeared in his every pore.

"I wanted you to stay…" You say softly, as if it were something just for you.

He even pretended not to hear, but there was no way he couldn't have heard. Your sweet voice echoing so close to him. A plea that perhaps if you asked for more, so slyly, there was a good chance he would give in.

It wasn't long before you were kissing all over his chest, letting your hand rest on his thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze and stroking it with your thumb. You already knew how sensitive he was to certain touches, and you always took advantage of that.

"Doll, you're going to kill me like this…" He murmured, looking at you with another one of his gallant smiles, the one that made you weak in the knees.

"I want to make you happy…" You whispered slyly, running your hands down to his bare midriff.

Your lips found his neck, licking and nibbling, making a point of letting him feel your teeth on his skin.

He couldn't help himself, letting out a soft moan as you had your way with him, it was strangely satisfying that you knew exactly what to do when it came to touching him.

"You do, babydoll, you do." He says softly, reaching down to give your ass a gentle squeeze, as well as a playful slap on your exposed flesh.

You then giggle at him, taking the opportunity to grip the erect base of his cock, giving him wet kisses on his shoulders. You even dared to kiss his nipple piercings, letting your tongue hover on the cold metal, feeling the icy surface on your hot muscle, making you smile against his skin.

Just watching the way he sighed and squirmed against your lips, you could feel your pussy starting to get wet, clit throbbing at the thought of having him with you once again.

His reddened tip was already leaking pre-cum, the liquid sticking to him and your fingers, helping with the impurity of those wet noises.

As soon as you started moving your hand up and down, his grip on your ass became stronger, making you gasp slightly at the act.

You continued with the movements, the wet sounds mixed with low moans and grunts filling your ears.

"You have good hands, don't you?" He said with a smile, sliding his hand down your ass again.

His other hand still held tightly to his cigarette, taking deep puffs, his eyes never leaving yours.

You could feel his body squirming with your touches, his hips moving against your hand for any other kind of friction you could give.

"I bet you're soaking wet, aren't you?" He asks in a cocky way, giving you his usual smug smile.

He knew how turned on you got just by pleasuring him, by having his throbbing cock in your fingers, or even the permission he gave you so that you could pleasure him in any way you wanted.

And then just to make sure he knew what he was talking about, his fingers slid down to the wet surface of your pussy, his fingers playing with your slick, making you moan against his skin.

"Tight little hole wanting attention, isn't it?" He taunts, putting his fingers so deep inside you.

The next thing he saw was you sticking out your tongue, licking the trail of precome dripping from his puffy red tip. The act made him curve his fingers inside you, moving in and out without much effort.

"You're so tasty…" You murmured softly, giving his tip a kiss.

This caused him to smile a little, rubbing his thumb against your clit in a circular motion.

"I want to see you ride, go on, sit down." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

You felt it when he withdrew his fingers from you, resting his hand on the cold floor, just waiting for you to do what he wanted.

And obviously you weren't going to say no.

And you obeyed like a good girl, sitting on his hand as you felt his fingers sinking into you.

"Ah- Shit…" You murmured, feeling your thighs twitch a little as you moved up and down.

He knew your weak points so well that it made you angry, he knew how to make you shudder with just his fingers.

"Such a beautiful little thing, fucking perfect." He grunted, playing with one of your nipples. Rolling and sliding between his fingers, squeezing and pinching.

All this so he could see you moaning and rolling your eyes as you rode his fingers.

You were so beautiful, the way you let yourself be so exposed to him, the way you trusted him with your eyes closed. That should be worrying, but he found it so exciting.

Your breasts jiggling as you moved up and down on his fingers, making a mess of his hand, which by the way was already honeyed with your juices.

"Hmh-, so good," You moaned, leaning on the floor for support as Leon watched your every move.

You moaned and whimpered his name, biting your lip as you stared at his erect member. God, he knew you were dying for him to make you deep-throat him, and don't get him wrong, he wanted it just as much as you did.

Just the thought of his cock buried in your tight throat was more than enough to make his cock throb and twitch, he could feel his blood pulsing to his lower body.

But now, now he wanted you. He wanted to watch as you rode him, as you moaned and begged him to curl his fingers and reach your sweet spots with every movement.

He didn't waste much time and pulled you close to him, sliding his free hand to the back of your neck, pulling you into a hot kiss.

His mouth meeting yours, the way you kissed him so eagerly and sloppily was enough to make him moan and grunt against your lips, his fingers moving in sync with your bouncing.

Your spongy, wet walls pulled him in, accommodating his fingers, you were so wet that he had no trouble sliding in and out of you.

He could do this all day, watch you moaning and whimpering his name, pulling your lips together to try and suppress the dirty noises coming out of you.

And it didn't work at all.

His smile only widened when he heard you whimpering loudly, biting your lip as you rolled your eyes, your orgasm washing over you as you drowned in that pleasure.

"Good girl. Good girl." He whispers, watching as you cream in his fists, your sweet furrow dripping through his fingers.

"Fuck…Oh…" You murmur, stopping your movements, but he hasn't stopped fisting you for a minute.

His skillful fingers caressing your spongy walls, making you look at him slyly.

"Leon… It's too much…" You cry out, pouting at him.

All he does is look at you with amusement in his eyes, leaning down to kiss your nipple, giving your sensitive part a gentle nibble.

"I hope you still have enough breath to give me a good ride." He says with a provocative and seductive tone, smiling cheekily at you.

And well, how can you deny him that? How can you say no when he looks at you like that?

You were incapable of denying such a good proposition.

"Yes… You know I will…" You say slyly, watching as he takes his fingers out of you.

He soon adjusted himself on the floor, spreading his legs and leaving room for you to sit on top of him.

Without any shame, he fisted his own cock, looking at you and biting his lip. His veins pulsed in his cock, which by then was begging for some attention.

The sight was enough to make your cunt throb, your body burning and aching, clamoring for him. And it wouldn't take you long to do what he wanted.

And once again he watched, saw you sit on his lap, your back turned to him as you gave him a view of your plump ass, making him salivate at the sight.

With one hand he held the cigarette, and with the other he instinctively placed it on your hips, kneading the soft skin. He watched as your tight pussy swallowed him, slowly, centimeter by centimeter. Sinking into his lap until he had it all at once.

He watched his cock disappear into your wet folds, and felt when your warmth enveloped him in such a sweet way.

"Fuck, you take me so well doll." Leon grunted, pressing his fingers into the softness of your hips.

"Hm - I'm so full…" You moaned, holding onto his knees as you began to grind slowly.

He smiled sideways, taking one last drag on his cigarette before throwing it on the floor, turning his full attention to you.

The next thing you felt was a warm slap on your ass cheeks, making you swallow and let out a whimper, understanding that he was asking you to increase the pace.

"Good girl." He purred, holding both your cheeks as he just sat there and felt you bounce on his cock.

The view was almost divine, your ass completely on display. He was lost in it, so lost that he could only focus on your moans, on the way you swallowed him completely, his cock appearing and disappearing with every bounce you made.

And there he went, losing all sense and just following the primal instinct to just fuck you, as if it were the last time. His hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrust.

"Leon- mhmm-," You even try to babble, but nothing but incoherent phrases come out of your lips.

Your pussy was so full, so stuffed, that you couldn't even breathe. You'd forgotten how deep he could get into you, how well he could fuck you if he wanted to.

His grunts mixed with your moans filled the room, nothing more than your voices amid the dirty sound of bodies slamming against each other, clashing violently.

If Leon was being honest, he never controlled himself with you, was never able to hold back when it came to you.

His cock twitching as he felt you tighten around him, he grunted so loudly in frustration, he almost couldn't hold back his load.

"I'm going to come inside, you hear?" He says, he wasn't really asking, just warning you what he was going to do.

"Please," You manage to let out a sly little cry, feeling him slap your ass, another one of his requests.

He wanted you to go faster, and you could never deny him that.

Your hips rolling up and down, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you called his name, you even felt that sensation in the pit of your stomach.

Your bodies covered in sweat, heavy breaths coming out in gasps, neither of you could even speak a single word.

You couldn't hold it in any longer, your orgasm flooded you once again, your fluids gushing out, your walls squeezing his length.

And that was the last straw for him, with a loud grunt and a swear word you couldn't identify, he came, thick ropes of cum painting your walls.

Leon just gave you a playful smack on the ass, appreciating you for what you had given him.He knew it had been stupid to cum inside, but he couldn't help himself.

Now all that was left was to wait, he was just waiting until you fell asleep, while you swore that this time it would be different, or that this time he would have some kind of feeling.

But you were dead wrong.

And then he would leave again, break you into a thousand pieces without even looking back.

But then, he would come into your arms, to glue each broken piece together, only to break it again later.

After all, isn't that what love is all about?

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon resident evil #leon kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon smut

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wellnessgirlblog · 1 year ago

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60 Days Challenge ༉‧₊˚

This is like my own version of the 75 Day Hard Challenge. For the next two months, I will follow these daily rules:

Follow a meal plan.

Drink 8-10 glasses of water.

Exercise daily.

Read 10 pages of any book.

Follow a morning and night routine.

Less than 3 hrs of screen time.

Keep track everyday.

1. Meal Plan:

I will add vegetables or fruits at each meal and fast 16:8 three times a week. I will focus on eating in moderation and adding healthy foods rather than restricting some type of food.

2. Hydration:

In addition to water, I will have two cups of tea (one in the morning and one at night). I won't drink anything else.

3. Exercise:

I will do some form of exercise every day, for at least 30 minutes, and I will stretch for at least 10 minutes. The main goal is to move !!! so I will do whatever suits my day the most.

4. Reading:

I love reading ! The minimum is 10 pages, but I'll try to read as much as possible. This will also be a way of not spending too much time on the phone.

5. Daily routines:

I want to start and end the day the right way. I created my routines based on what was best for me and my schedule. For example, my morning routine is short and simple because I don't have a lot of time, and my night routine is focused on relaxing because otherwise I have a hard time sleeping.

6. Less than 3 hrs of screentime:

This doesn't include time in screens for school. My goal here is to limit the time I spend on social media and spend that time on other activities instead. I will probably only use that time for my duolingo lessons, watch a movie or post on tumblr, and I will set a timer everytime I use a screen.

7. Keep a record:

I will keep a record here of how I feel every day during this challenge. The goal with this is to realize what works and what doesn't, in order to improve. I also think it's easier for me to stay on track if I write it down somewhere.

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 2 months ago

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HIS GIRL - PART 1

Summary: You were always Topper’s girl—until Rafe decided you were no longer his.

Paring: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Rafe/Reader, Topper/Reader, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Coercive Behaviour, Fingering, Oral (w receiving) Drinking, Graphic Scenes / Smut.

Author's Note: Hi my loves. I'm alive!! Trying to survive. The year has been a tough one but wanted to tell you all I love you. Wasn't feeling motivated and then suddenly inspiration struck and I've been writing this dark/rafe fic on and off for months but then when it came time to post it was too long to do as a one shot so I'll release it slowly over the next couple of days as short parts. Part 2 will hopefully be up tomorrow. Love you guys and I hope everyone is well ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

“You wouldn't believe how happy she makes me,” Topper says, leaning back against the porch railing overlooking Tannyhill. His voice is thick with that syrupy sweetness that makes Rafe want to shove him clean off it.

Rafe leans against the opposite post, staring into the darkness. The summer air is suffocating, clinging to him, weighing him down, but not half as much as Topper’s words. He can’t stand the way Topper talks about you. His girl. Always his girl. Like he owns you, like he can hold your happiness in the palm of his hand and keep it there.

“She’s different, you know?” Topper keeps going, like he’s trying to sell you to him, as if Rafe hasn’t already memorized every detail, every curve of your lips, the way your eyes light up when you laugh or the soft timbre of your voice.

“She’s perfect, always so positive.. Like she literally sees the brighter side of life and the good in everyone. Sometimes... sometimes I feel like I don't deserve her, ya know? Like she can do so much better and yet somehow- she's picked me... I dunno it makes me want to do better. She makes me wanna be a better guy for her...”

Rafe's mouth curls into something that could be a smile but feels more like a scowl. He scratches his forehead.

“A better guy, huh? Jesus—Top, do you even hear yourself? You haven't even fucked her yet, and you're already actin' like a sap.”

It’s easier to mock, easier to keep up the front than to let anyone see how it really feels. How every time you laugh at one of Topper’s stupid jokes, it feels like a punch to Rafe's gut, a reminder that you’re still not his.

Topper doesn’t notice. He never does. Just keeps grinning like an idiot, like he’s won the fucking lottery.

“Can you just shut-up and be happy for me, man? Just this once? Look, it doesn't matter anyway. Cause it's time. Me and her are going to take our relationship to the next level.”

The words hit Rafe harder than they should, his fingers flexing, gripping the edge of the porch railing until his knuckles turn white. He doesn’t say anything at first, just feels his chest tighten, feels the familiar burn of jealousy flare up like a live wire. Because all he can think about is you, Topper’s hands on you, Topper fucking you, and it makes him want to break something, anything.

He forces himself to speak, keeping his voice steady, casual, like he’s just shooting the shit.

“The next level, huh? With little Miss Sunshine?” His smile is a thin, cruel line. “Thought you said you two were taking it slow, isn't she the type to wait for marriage or some shit."

Topper laughs, an easy sound that grates against Rafe’s nerves. “She’s not a virgin Rafe, she’s been with other guys before. We’re just you know, trying to get to know each other first. That's what I love about her. She wasn't going to just sleep with me after a couple of dates. I had to prove myself to her and now it feels… it feels right. It’s the next logical step and I know she feels the same….” He says it like it’s so obvious, like he’s stating a fact, and Rafe’s skin prickles with a heat that has nothing to do with the summer night.

And there it is. The image that really makes Rafe's blood run cold: you, too sweet and naive, believing in something as stupid as love, and Topper, ready to ruin it with his clumsy hands and superficial feelings. This is the same guy who was pining after Rafe’s sister claiming to be in love with her only to have suddenly found you “the one” and had fallen head over heels in the span of a a few weeks.

No. That can't happen. Not like that. Not with you. Not when Rafe is the one who really cares about you. Had feelings for you longer than he’d dared to admit. Way longer before Topper swooped in and put a claim to you.

Rafe swallows hard as a new plan slowly takes shape in the dark recesses of his mind. If Topper wants to take things to the next level, fine. But it won't be with you. Not if Rafe has anything to say about it. He’ll get to you first. He’ll be the one you remember, the one who shows you something real, something raw. Because you deserve better than Topper. Or maybe, you deserve someone who isn't afraid to give you everything—the good, the bad, and the ugly. Someone like him.

Rafe smirks, letting his eyes slide over to Topper, keeping his tone light, almost teasing. “Yeah, well, good luck with that. You're gonna need it...”

Because he’s already decided. This isn’t over. Far from it. He’s going to make sure you know exactly what you’re missing before you ever let Topper Thornton fuck you. He’ll find a way. He always does.

The music pulses through the house like a living thing, the bass vibrating in Rafe’s bones as he moves through the crowd. Bodies sway, drunk on cheap beer and the promise of a good time. Laughter spills into the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and weed, but Rafe has only one thing on his mind tonight: you.

He spots you almost immediately. You’re standing in the kitchen, a red Solo cup in your hand, laughing at something Topper is saying. Topper’s arm is draped around your waist, and Rafe feels a familiar flicker of irritation—a heat that curls in his chest like a slow-burning fire.

He watches the way you tilt your head back, your eyes bright with amusement, looking at the blond idiot like he'd hung the moon and it takes everything in Rafe not to walk over and tear Topper’s hands off you.

Instead, he waits, watching, calculating.

Topper leans in close, murmuring something in your ear, and you giggle, playfully swatting at his arms, your fingers drawing circles on Toppers' wrist. Rafe’s jaw tightens. He needs an opening, a chance to get you alone, and then he sees it—a flash of movement as Topper's phone buzzes in his pocket. Topper pulls it out, glances at the screen, and Rafe catches the brief look of annoyance that flits across his face. Perfect.

Topper leans down to you, his voice barely audible over the music. “Hey, babe, I’ve got to take this. It’s my dad. I’ll be back in a few, okay?” He kisses you on the forehead, and you nod, giving him that same sweet, innocent smile that makes Rafe’s stomach twist in knots.

As Topper slips away into the crowd, Rafe moves. He slides up next to you, a casual, easy grin on his lips, as if he just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

“Hey,” he says, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music. “Topper leave you all alone?”

You look up, surprised but not unhappy to see him. That’s good—he can work with that. He's worked with less.

“Yeah, he had to take a phone call,” you said with a small smile. That smile. It's cute. You're cute. So fucking cute that Rafe’s mind spirals into the gutter. He wonders what you’d look like if he wiped that smile right off your face, watch your face contort with ecstasy—what sounds you’d make if he were to shove his cock down your throat. He 's sure you'd look just as cute all teary eyed and drooling.

Rafe leans against the counter, close enough that his arm brushes yours, but he doesn’t miss the way you pull back slightly. It’s subtle, not rude, but clearly setting boundaries. That’s fine. He'll enjoy tearing those boundaries down.

“He always gets those calls at the worst times, doesn’t he?” he says, keeping his tone light, but he knows exactly what he’s doing. Planting the seed. Making you think.

“I guess.” You laugh, a little uncertain, and Rafe knows he’s got you hooked, just a little. “But to be honest, I don’t mind. His dad’s helping him prep for an interview he has next week..”

“Oh—is that who he said was on the phone? His dad?” He lets the words hang in the air, just enough to make you wonder, to make you question.

You frown, just a flicker, but he sees it. “Well, yeah... who else would it be?”

Rafe shrugs, as if he hadn’t meant to say anything at all. “Oh, nothing. It’s just... Topper talks a lot. To a lot of people. Friends... Other girls... It's probably harmless, but, you know... people talk...” He flashes you a quick smile, a little sheepish, like he’s just looking out for you. "People talk..."

Your brow furrows, confusion and a hint of worry crossing your face. “What other girls?”

He waves a hand dismissively, playing it off. “It’s probably nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything. Just... you know how it is around here. People love to gossip; it’s mostly hearsay anyway.” But he knows he’s hit a nerve. He sees the doubt flickering in your eyes, the way you bite your lower lip as if you're turning over his words in your mind.

Before you can ask anything else, he changes the subject, shifting the focus.

“Hey, forget about it. Let me get you a drink. You look like you could use something stronger.” He reaches for a bottle on the counter, pouring two shots of something clear and potent, handing one to you with a grin. “Topper will just have to catch up when he gets back.”

You hesitate, just for a moment, but then you take the glass, smiling back at him. “Okay, okay” you say, clinking your glass against his.

The first shot goes down easy, the warmth spreading through your chest, and Rafe watches you closely, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Another?” he asks, already reaching for the bottle, not giving you time to think or say no. You nod, a little more eagerly this time, and he pours again, his movements smooth, practiced.

One drink becomes two, then three. Rafe keeps them coming, always ready with another pour, keeping your glass filled, keeping the conversation light and funny, distracting you from the fact that he'd only had one to your three. Distracting you from the way your head begins to feel pleasantly fuzzy. He’s careful, calculating, making sure you don’t notice how he’s watching you, gauging just how tipsy you’re getting.

By the time the fourth shot is gone, you’re giggling, swaying just slightly where you stand. A fucking lightweight if he’d ever seen one. Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes a little glassy, and Rafe knows he’s got you right where he wants you. He moves closer, his shoulder pressing lightly against yours, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone.

“Hey, let’s get out of here for a bit. It’s too crowded, and you look like you could use some fresh air. What do you think?” He says it so smoothly, so surely, that you don’t realize the kitchen is already empty.

You blink, a little slow, unsure, but then you nod, laughing softly. “Yeah… maybe… for a few minutes...” Your words slur just a bit, but you don’t notice, don’t seem to care. You’re too wrapped up in the haze and the banter you're sharing.

He reaches out, fingers brushing lightly against your wrist, a touch that lingers, and this time, you don’t pull away. “Come on,” he urges, his voice low and coaxing. “Just for a bit. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

You nod again, and he leads you outside, into the cool night air, away from the party. He knows he's in dangerous territory, anyone can see you leaving with him but he doesn’t care. He’s too far gone. Drunk on the idea of having you all to himself, away from the lights, away from Topper, where it’s just you and him and the night.

And as he guides you down the porch steps, he knows he’s one step closer to what he wants. One step closer to having you, in whatever way he can. One step closer to making sure you’d never look at Topper the same way again.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

PART 2 / STORY MASTERLIST

Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please like / reblog / comment as I would love to know what you think. Part 2 will be up tomorrow but in the meantime lots of love ❤️

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #topper outer banks #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #outer banks rafe #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe fic

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badkitty3000 · 9 months ago

Text

I write exclusively Number Five Hargreeves fanfiction. If you have any requests for one shots featuring Five x reader-insert or my original characters, please let me know! Use the Ask Me Anything button for requests but please read my rules first. I may not be able to accommodate all requests, however. Thank you for understanding! ❤️

The only "rules" I have are as follows ( no judgement to anyone, I just have my preferences):

Five will be aged up to at least 17 or 18 (body wise) or older

Five is an old man underneath it all, so no teenage romances or crushes

No rape/non-con, but dub-con is ok

No ABO, hardcore BDSM, Yandere

I will not be writing any Five/Lila ships, sorry!

*Updated November 2024*

POSTED ON TUMBLR:

La classe d'arte: The Art Class

POV Five x Female OC, 11.4k words, one-shot

Summary: When Five accidentally stumbles into an art class with an attractive nude model, things take a turn from awkward embarrassment to hot and steamy when she asks him out on a date. Five may be inexperienced at times, but he knows how to deliver when it counts, and this is no exception. Unlocking a certain linguistic kink gives Five the ego boost he needs to rock her world like the man in charge he always is

Warnings: Masturbation, Smut

You Can't Go Home Again: Chapters 1 and 2

Chapters 3 and 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Five-centric Season 3 Rewrite, Multi-chapter, Finished, 29k words

Summary: All Five wants to do is rest. But when yet another apocalypse threatens to doom them all, he doesn't have that luxury. This time, the only solution for the Hargreeves to try and save the world is to unite Five with another, alternate version of himself.

Five starts to spiral when he is faced with the alternate life that he could have had, if only he hadn't gone and ruined everything. But maybe, just maybe, there's still time for him to obtain the happy ending he deserves.

Warnings: None

Forced Confinement: Friends To Enemies To Lovers

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 5.7k words, one-shot, reader request

Summary: You and Five used to be friends. That is, until he got you stuck in the endless cycle of time traveling trains and no way home. Now he is the last person you want to be stuck with at the end of the world. But, after months of resentment and bickering, you and Five finally work out your differences

Warnings: Smut, sex, masturbation

One Fateful Day

Five x Single Mom Reader-Insert, 5,000 words, one-shot, reader request

Summary: Five finds friendship and a blossoming romance where he least expected it

Warnings: None

One Fateful Day - Part 2

Five x Single Mom Reader-Insert, 5.8k words, one-shot, sequel

Summary: A year after your fateful meeting at the park, Five is now a huge part of you and your daughter's life

Warnings: Smut

Don't Stand So Close To Me

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 6,700 words, one-shot, reader request

Summary: Five was doing his best to resist you. You were too young for him. Too eager. But when he decided to try and scare you straight, he got a little more than he bargained for. That's when he realized maybe he wasn't as strong as he thought he was.

Warnings: Smut, explicit sex, everyone is an adult

World's Collide

Multiple Fives x Multiple Female OCs/Readers, 6,976 words, one-shot, co-authored with @kaybreezy3000

Summary: A steaming hot and humorous deli Five story, and An Ode To All The Fives We’ve Loved Before.

Warnings: Smut, explicit sex

You Made It Weird. Real Fucking Weird

A platonic!Five x Lila sort of fix it for season four, 2607 words, one-shot, reader request

Summary: Five comforts Lila with a mixture of his usual snark, sweetness, and honesty when she has a major breakdown after being away from her family for so long. NO smut! NO romance! Purely friendship. I do not ship these two!

Warnings: None

Five's Audition Tape

Five x Female OC, 4,179 words, one-shot

Summary: Vivian catches Five singing in the shower and secretly records the evidence. When she's caught, she tries to hide from him, which ends in some major rearranging of their kitchen pantry. What she doesn't know, though, is that their little closet bang is not the private moment they intended.

Warnings: Smut, closet sex

A Company Man

Five, The Handler, 2,415 words, one-shot, reader request

Summary: A short one-shot about Five and The Handler when he first got to the commission and how she is the master of manipulation and messing with his mind.

Warnings: None

Breaking The Rules

Five x Plus Size Reader, 8,159 words, one-shot, reader request

Summary: You and Five work at the Commission and you're shocked to learn that maybe he doesn't always have a thing for thin girls. He likes you just the way you are.

Warnings: Smut, slight Daddy kink

Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now

Five x Unnamed Female Character, Five x Dolores, 6,078 words, one-shot, reader request (but also already on AO3 with a couple small changes)

Summary: Five is trying his hardest to be in a real relationship with someone that cares about him. When he comes across a familiar face in a thrift shop window, all of his dreams of normalcy are dashed. And he can't help the decades-old feelings that resurface.

Warnings: Smut, Doll fetishization, Five is not in a good place mentally

Tamed

Five x Unnamed Female Character, 8,141 words, reader request, one-shot

Summary: Five is living his retirement dream, but he's still in his 20-year old body, and he's bored with his unexciting life. All that changes after a chance meeting with an "older" woman that thinks she's going to teach him a few things in the bedroom. But she soon realizes that he already knows what he's doing. And just like everything else Number Five does, he does it very very well.

Warnings: Smut, Edging, Physical age difference (older woman, younger man), everyone is an adult

Coercion

Five x Female Reader, 5,202 words, reader request, one-shot

Summary: You and Five are working as trained assassins and you're not exactly happy with him

Warnings: Smut, Sub Five, oral sex, light bondage, light dom/sub

Daddy's Home

Five x Female Reader, 3,273 words, one-shot

Summary: Taken from a longer fic of mine and turned into a reader-insert. Five wants you naked and waiting for him when he gets home.

Warnings: Explicit sex, Daddy kink

The Contest

Five x Female OC, 5,751 words, one-shot, reader request

Summary: Five and Vivian find themselves under the influence of an aphrodisiac. So, naturally, they turn it into a sexy competition.

Warnings: Explicit sex, masturbation, mutual masturbation, dirty talk

Your Touch

Five x Female OC, 3318 words, one-shot, reader request

Summary: Cute, fluffy drabbles of Five and his wife and their everyday life of being madly in love. No smut!

Warnings: Swearing

Five Hargreeves NSFW Headcanons

Just a list of random smutty headcanons that I have for Five

Warnings: smut

In Sickness And In Health

Five x Female OC, 4437 words, one-shot, reader request

Summary: Thank you for the request!! Here's a funny/sweet/smutty one-shot of Five taking care of his sick wife like the sexy softy he is. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: explicit sex, Daddy kink

No Escape

Five x Female OC, 8045 words, one-shot, reader request

Summary: Five is forced into assassin mode when Vivian is put in danger by another Commission agent. He must not be very smart, though, because no one in their right mind would dare lay a hand on Five's girl.

Warnings: blood, violence, smut at the end but can be skipped and won't affect the story

Room For One More

Five x Female Reader-Insert, Klaus x Female Reader-Insert, Five x Klaus x Female Reader-Insert, 7192 words, one-shot

Summary: Five and Klaus head out to the bar to celebrate their birthday. When they catch the eye of the attractive bartender, she decides to give them a very special birthday present. The only catch is they have to share.

Warnings: M/M/F, vaginal sex, anal sex, double penetration

Love In The Time of Cholera and Coffee -Chapters 1-6

Love In The Time of Cholera and Coffee-Chapters 7-9

Five x Female Reader, Klaus x Female Reader, 50,497 words, 9 chapters

Summary: You and Klaus are in a casual relationship. No ties, just sex. When you start spending a lot of time at his apartment, you somehow manage to break through his brother's prickly outer shell. He seems to like you, or at least tolerate you the best that Five can. When you start to realize that maybe there is more than just mutual friendship between the two of you, it opens up a lot of feelings and unanswered questions. And a lot of problems.

Warnings: Explicit sex, Daddy kink

Physical Fitness

Five x Female Reader, 2800 words, one-shot

Summary: Five has been distant lately, but you discover all he needs is a good workout to get his mind back on you again

Warnings: Explicit sex, Daddy kink

Lewd Public Acts

Five x Female OC, 7,412 words, one-shot

Summary: Getting busy in a public space with people around? The idea of someone witnessing everything becomes a turn on for Five's wife, and he is definitely up for the challenge. After all, he can never deny her anything. And, let's face it; there might be something in it for him, too.

Warnings: Explicit sex

Addicted

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 3,199 words, one-shot

Summary: Sometimes our bodies get a taste of something so good that it's nearly impossible to quit. No matter how bad it is for us. And right now that something is Five Hargreeves.

Warnings: Sex, little bit of blood kink

Weak

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 4,891 words, one-shot, continuation of Addicted, from Five's POV.

Summary: Even Five Hargreeves is no stranger to temptation. He tries to hard to stay away. He wants to do the right thing for once in his life. If not for himself, then for her. But every man has his breaking point.

Warnings: Explicit sex, rough sex

Strength

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 4,427 words, one-shot, continuation of Addicted and Weak

Summary: Five is finally strong enough to give in to his true feelings and tell you how he feels. You are strong enough to let him.

Warnings: Sex

The Download

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 31, 310 words, 5 chapters

Summary: It's the end of the world and everyone you know is gone. After you find yourself at the Hotel Obsidian, you realize you have something in common with the rest of the remaining population. When Number Five takes a particular interest in you, and your special ability, the evening turns into much more than you expected. The universe may be hours away from imploding, but you and Five are going out with a bang.

Warnings: Explicit sex, praise kink, rough sex, Five is physically 17, reader is 30

Chapters 1 and 2

Chapters 3, 4, 5

All Of My Works On AO3

Halo (Series)

Five x Female OC multi-part series that follows Five and his eventual wife, Vivian, through many stages of their life together. 5 parts total.

All parts in this series rated E for explicit sex.

Halo

First part in series, 25,460 words, 7 chapters

Summary: What starts as a one-night stand eventually turns into a growing romance. Number Five and Vivian are drawn to one another, despite their initial resistance. However, Five's past makes a relationship difficult and she has some issues of her own. Despite an unhealthy codependency, their lives are intertwined. For better or for worse.

Hole In My Soul

Second part in series, 30,903 words, 11 chapters

Summary: Vivian and Five now have an established relationship and are in love. She melds easily into the Hargreeves family as Five finally discloses their relationship to his siblings. But some disturbing behavior from Five makes Viv re-evaluate her choices. Will their love for one another be enough when life throws them a curve ball and they have some tough decisions to make?

Just Like Heaven

Third part in series, 25,362 words, 8 chapters

Summary: Vivian and Five have been actively trying to start a family, but to no avail. The stress is wearing on them both and it's affecting their once solid relationship. With the last few months left on Five's Commission contract, he is looking forward to putting that part of his life in the past. However, Viv is soon confronted with a harsh truth that puts their relationship in jeopardy.

Promise To Kill

Fourth part in series, 86,881 words, 12 chapters

Summary: Five is married to the love of his life, with a young son, and the retirement life he always dreamed. Everything is perfect. Which should have been Five's first clue that something was going to go wrong. A new discovery involving his child leads to a horrible family tragedy. The Umbrella Academy has to step up to save the day and Five's family.

Our Forever

Fifth and final part in series, 32,175 words, 8 chapters

Summary: Five's never been great with healthy coping skills. Even after all this time. When he is faced with a horrible tragedy and he doesn't know how to cope, he blames himself, as usual. But this time, it seems it can't be fixed. Until a sudden vision from beyond makes him realize that maybe he can after all.

Five/Vivian One-Shot Series

Five x OC collection of one-shots that show little glimpses into Five and Vivian's life over the years, in no particular order or timeline. 11 works in total.

All works in this series rated E or M for explicit sex/smut (except for one - rated G)

Damaged 3,210 words

Extra Credit 6,436 words

Piece de Resistance aka The French Lady Incident 7,999 words

The New Neighbor 7,136 words

Sharp Dressed Man 5,514 words, co-authored by KayBreezy

Coming And Going 5,491 words

Let's Hear It For The Boy 7,508 words

You Are My Constant 19,757 words

Summary: This is technically a one-shot, but it's longer because it depicts Five and Vivian's honeymoon and contains more plot and character development

Lewd Public Acts 7,412 words (posted on Tumblr)

When Number Five Steps Out, He's Gonna Do You In 8,730 words, co-authored by KayBreezy

Take Me To Church 6,465 words

No Escape 8,045 words (posted on Tumblr)

Your Touch 3,361 words (posted on Tumblr) RATED G

Five's Audition Tape 4,179 words (posted on Tumblr)

Works separate from my series:

The Sexual Awakenings Of Mr. Number Five Hargreeves

Five x Various Female OCs, 40,516 words, 8 chapters

Summary: Relatively speaking, it wasn’t that long ago that Five was a total moron when it came to sex, and women in general. Having spent his most formative years isolated and alone, once he was thrown back into society, his lack of experience was obvious.... And even though he tried not to let it bother him, he quickly realized that it did. It bothered him a lot.

Rated E for explicit sex

Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now

Five x Female OC (unnamed), Five x Dolores, 6,029 words, one-shot

Rated M for smut/sex

The Assassin's Date

Five x Female OC, 59,057 words, 9 chapters

Summary: After saving the world, Five Hargreeves is working as an independent hitman for hire. When a tough and beautiful woman is witness to one of his crimes, the last thing Five wants to do is kill her. Instead, he makes her a deal. If she goes on one date with him, he'll let her live. When she agrees, he can't help but notice that the date might be fake, but his feelings are real.

Rated E for explicit sex

All Apologies

Five, The Hargreeves Siblings, Five x Dolores, 21,892 words, 4 chapters

Summary: All Five had wanted to do was to keep his family safe, and away from their father. As the young Umbrella Academy pull further away from one another, Five desperately tries to make them see that their only chance at a happy life is to get out from under Reginald's rule. His methods of convincing, however, lead to misunderstandings, hurt feelings, and typical Hargreeves drama. Years later, when Five is alone with only Dolores to talk to, he finds himself thinking back on all of his mistakes.

Rated T for teen (language, mentions of masturbation)

The Download

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 31,310 words, 5 chapters (also posted on Tumblr)

Rated E for explicit sex

The Text Mess

Five, Klaus, 5,576, one-shot, co-authored by KayBreezy

Summary: With no apocalypse looming, and Reginald gone, left with their powers but not much else, the Hargreeves were finally getting to figure out life on their own terms. Number Five was doing what he always did. He was surviving and doing his best to move on from his traumatic past, though the success of that endeavor was evident in the day-to-day reality of his new self-inflicted dark and lonely existence. And then along came Klaus...

Rated T for teen (sexual references, clothed dick pics)

Full Circle

Five x Female OC, 96,272 words, 14 chapters

Summary: Even without an apocalypse to head off, Five has lived a hard life. Physical and emotional abuse from his father, along with devastating heartbreak; this is all he knows throughout his teenage years. As an adult, he becomes a Mafia Hitman. And not a Hitman with a heart of gold. After years of childhood trauma, Five is willing to kill, no questions asked, for the crime family he works for. When the one person in his life that ever meant anything to him shows up ten years later, he's willing to love and be loved again. But everything comes at a price.

Rated E for explicit sex, threats of rape, violence, child abuse

It's A Wonderful Life, Five Hargreeves

Five x Female OC, 22,594 words, 5 chapters

Summary: Five years after he and his siblings were abandoned by their father, and with no powers, Number Five is visited by his guardian angel. An annoyingly chipper woman that is anything but your typical angel. When he is unable to get rid of her, he finally gives in and she shows him what it means to be grateful for what he has and to stop pushing his family away. Inspired by both A Christmas Carol and It's A Wonderful Life.

Rated E for explicit sex

Addicted

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 3,199 words, one-shot (also posted on Tumblr)

Summary: Sometimes our bodies get a taste of something so good that it's nearly impossible to quit. No matter how bad it is for us. And right now that something is Five Hargreeves.

Rated M for smut/sex

Weak

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 4.901 words, one-shot (also posted on Tumblr)

Summary: Even Five Hargreeves is no stranger to temptation. He tries so hard to stay away. He wants to do the right thing for once in his life. If not for himself, then for her. But every man has his breaking point.

Rated E for explicit sex

Strength

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 4.917 words, one-shot (also posted on Tumblr)

Summary: Five is finally strong enough to give in to his true feelings and tell you how he feels. You are strong enough to let him.

Rated M for smut/sex

Love In The Time of Cholera and Coffee

Five x Female Reader-Insert, Klaus x Female Reader-Insert, 50,4979 words, 9 chapters

Rated E for explicit sex

Room For One More

Five x Female Reader-Insert, Klaus x Female Reader-Insert, 7,204 words, one-shot (also on Tumblr)

Rated E for explicit sex

Tamed

Five x Female OC (unnamed), basically a reader-insert, 8,183 words, one-shot (also on Tumblr)

Rated E for explicit sex

You Made It Weird. Real Fucking Weird

Five Hargreeves & Lila Pitts (platonic), 2,632 words, one-shot (also on Tumblr)

Summary: It's been almost seven years since Five and Lila have been stuck in the subway. When Lila has a sudden realization of how much time has passed away from her family, she suffers a major breakdown. Five comforts her in the only way he knows how: a mixture of sweetness, honesty, and his usual snark and attitude.

Five and Lila will always be the greatest of frenemies and nothing more. You cannot convince me otherwise!

Warnings: None! Zero! No Smut Or Romance!

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