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retiredteabag · 5 months ago

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Hidden from sight

Synopsis: In a state of humiliation, you attempt to hide an injury from your master, Sukuna, this, of course, does not go to plan.

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Foolish.

That, you were sure, was what Lord Sukuna would call you when you returned to the estate.

He was a harsh, and strict man. He never liked for you to stray from his presence too long, and more than anything else, he was mean. He said what he wanted, and always meant it.

You had begged the king of curses to allow you a day amongst the townsfolk, a day to explore the gardens outside of Sukunas domain, a day to see and hear and feel the world you so rarely saw.

The king, of course, was not too keen on this. You were not a member of kitchen staff, or a concubine, or a groundskeeper either. Like many people on the compound, you were simply a servant to the king. Yet, your relationship was not one that could be compared to your peers.

Beloved to the king, perhaps being too strong of a word. You were special to him, however. He expected your attendance at his meals or downtime. One might think you were close, but the truth of the matter was:

You hardly knew the king.

And he barely spoke to you either.

You had come to the palace an adult, knowing little of the king's mannerisms. Meeting him on rare occasions proved a thrilling experience. He was unlike any man you had ever met.

One evening, your presence was needed in the bath chamber. You had been told to assist in the cleaning of your king. Nonplussed as you were, you pled your case. An uninformed and inexperienced launderer. You were in no position to touch the king, too dirty yourself to even wish for such a position.

Having been told to never deny the king of anything he demanded, you were certain the response would not be one of pleasure. You escaped that day unscathed, a mere,

"Then depart from my sight"

Uttered from him, eyes closed, hand shooing you away.

But time passed and with the phases of the moon, so too did your relationship with the king alter. Night after night you grew more and more certain the king was calling for you directly. You grew acquainted with the king, with his bloodthirsty antics, with his unforgiving nature, with his intolerance for rebellion.

You served him through it all.

Twas' your job.

A launderer.

A foot servant for your employer.

You were sure, he would not be forgiving if you returned to his estate in such disarray. Only having warned you to be mindful a mere two hours prior, you limped from the ache in the side of your pelvis.

Your feet shook on the uneven ground beneath you. You had only just left the village you so desired to see, basket in hand full of goods to bring to your fellow maids. Evening was falling and the memory of the king's warning flooded your mind.

As you had made the trek back, the sight of a deer in the woods had shocked you. Certain you were looking at a curse, you gasped, lunged for cover, and promptly tripped over a stone lining the path through the woods.

Too eager to protect the contents of your basket your hands had been too occupied to catch your weight. You were certain there were scratched on your knees, but the real pain came from just above your hip, where an ill-placed stone had bludgeoned your flesh.

Dark red sept through your kimono, it had never looked so much like your kings. But he would not be pleased. Of this you were sure.

Foolish.

Too easily frightened.

Weak.

You knew little of Lord Sukuna's vast abilities. One thing you knew for certain was that the king had the ability to feel the souls of those around him. He knew when someone was guilty when someone was excited and fearful. He could sense it as if he was feeling those things himself. For this reason, before drawing too close to the palace gates, you steadied your heart and mind, reaching for peace as to not alert Sukuna of your presence so soon.

You went first to the washhouse, and rid yourself of the filthy clothes. After which, you were at once able to see the depth of your injuries. It had hurt, your way back to the palace, but after seeing them for what they were, you had to fight to keep the spike of panic from rising. How could you hide this? Hide it from him?

You wash your kimono of the coppery smell, disposing of it behind a pile of extra wash bins. You occupy your hands by dabbing at the open wound, wrapping yourself in a linen cloth, and dressing in one of the extra cleaning uniforms.

You were so caught up in walking in a straight line back to the estate, you almost forgot your gifts and whine out at the thought of making the trip back to the wash house. But you steel yourself and do it.

By the time you make it to the kitchens, it is far later than you intended. You simply drop the basket off on a staff table, wobbling to your chambers.

All you want is to sleep, to hide yourself from all the noises of the estate night shift, but the throbbing pain in your side is intense, and worse, you've bled through both your linen bandage as well as a laundry uniform. Even so, you are too tired to come up with a way to right this, you decide, that will be the job of tomorrow y/n.

Of course, when you arise the next morning, unable to sit up, you regret your choices of the night prior. Unintentionally a wail escapes your lips, the pain is so deep, so unchanging that you want to cry. You feel the humiliation once again from yesterday, what would Sukuna say if he knew of this? Would he remove you from the estate? Or would he simply look at you with disgust? Would he ever speak to you again?

Something you were sure of, at least, was that there was no way you would be able to work, bent over a wash basin, in the condition you are in. Knowing that, you were concerned with how long you could hide away in your chambers before someone came to get you.

Several maids had already come to speak through your door, asking about your trip, the basket of goodies you left in the kitchen, and eventually, in concerned tones, if you were alright.

You reassured them in a comforting voice that you were quite well but exhausted from your journey and would likely retire before dinner was served.

You had never been up however, still, the other launderers did not question your words, sure you just needed a nights more rest. There was, however, a person in the estate you could never evade, and contrary to popular belief, it was not Lord Sukuna. He certainly did not care enough for you to need to hide yourself from him, however, his loyal servant and chef, Uraume, always had everything in order and was aware of all the "goings on" that occurred within the estate walls.

Only a few minutes after the communal dinner bell was rung did Uraume arrive at your chambers, requesting your presence. Unfortunately, they were not so easy to dissuade. I have no appetite did not work, I long for rest, did not work, I tire from my journey, did not work. None of it worked. They were determined, if nothing else, to see you. There was nothing to be done.

In a grand effort, you slid from your bed to the floor, a dull moan muffled by the mattress as you strained your legs to rise but it was a tireless endeavor. Wincing, you shuddered to the door, opened it a crack to meet th Uraume's stern eyes.

"You are unwell." They announced.

You knew you could not lie, not directly. Still, you attempted to fib your way around it, claiming your menstrual cycle was nearing, but it did not work, claiming you had eaten something foul in the village, they merely squinted at you, you were blundering, grasping for straws. In your desperation, you did not notice Uraume's foot slip out to the threshold, slowly pressing your door ajar.

You had been resting your weight said door, and yelped at the pressure. The chef raised an eyebrow and pressed on more firmly. You called out their name and stumbled to the floor.

"You've been attacked?" They question but the pain is so intense you can simply shake your head, in a show of patience you rarely see from Uraume, they brush the hair from your face.

You knew they could use reversed curse technique on themself, but the management of this injury was something that would likely take time.

In the moments it took Uraume to lift you to your bed, and start to clean your wound they had you recount the story, in between each sentence you begged them to keep this from the king. Do not say a word, I beg, followed by, I pray you wouldn't speak of this, ending your story with Lord Sukuna mustn't know.

Even with all the begging, they never once promised you a thing. Pressing your gouged pelvis more firmly still, they wiped your eyes of tears. And when you finally met their gaze, their look seemed to whisper, do not be stupid. You could only hope.

Your hope had been stupid.

You knew it had been last night when Uraume had bandaged you up, you knew it had been when you fought to dress yourself this morning, you knew it had been when you trudged to the wash house, you knew it had been when you began to set up a bin full of sudsy water and even now, bent painfully over, scrubbing away at towels, you knew of your fate.

You had been invited to dine with the king. Once dismissing yourself for not being worthy to wash your king's body had been shockingly, acceptable at one time. But you knew you could not skirt this. You could not deny your presence to him twice.

And in his presence, you knew you could not hide. Uraume had been the one to collect you before the evening meal, washing you, clothing you, and redressing your wound. You walked with intention now, three steps behind the personal chef to the king. You found, however, that you would not be having dinner in one of the many dining rooms, but rather, in the kings chambers.

In an attempt to plead once more, you made to grab Uraumes robe, they simply gave you a look of greatest disdain, opened the door to Sukunas chambers, and bowed.

You could not meet his eyes, you could feel them as they traced over you. Despite the fiery pain, you fell to your knees. You did not speak, Uraume left, and you stayed glued to the floor.

"I hold no affection for those who hide from me."

You could do nothing but nod in your place on the floor. "Yes, my king."

"You know this."

"Yes, my king." You nod again,

"And yet-" You can hear his voice ever louder, he has gotten up from his place on the bed, coming to you, his steps echoing in your ears. "You evade me like an elusive snake." He paces around you steadily. "You hide yourself from my presence, and you beg" He spits it out, vehement, "beg- Uraume to keep your condition from me."

He has stalked behind you now, and begins to creep ever closer to your side, bending to your position to whisper in your ear,

"Did you believe I could not find you, did you think, even for a moment, you could fool me?" You cannot read his tone, nor his face, too ashamed to look.

He stretches back to his full height. "You have always been the one who's appearance I delight most in. Yet, now, you only appear at my demand. Must I demand you to speak as well in order for you to tell me why you have shamed me so?"

Shaking your head quickly, you heave, "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I did not want to- to show you-" You began but Sukuna cuts you off, whirling around,

"That much is very clear. Tell me why without the blabbering nonsense. I wish not to hear apologies fall from your lips now."

You murmur once more, ashamed, but speak up, "I am such a fool." You look up, resigning yourself, you want to see his face, "I wished not for you to see me as such. I am a weak and poor worker. Please, know, I did not mean to shame you."

Sukuna does not respond. Silently making his way to your form, "You cannot even stand on your own. Do you intend to lay there all night, or do you expect aid to be granted to you?"

He sounds genuinely curious, you are unsure of what to say, you had no plan. Your head falls to your lap but in a sudden movement, Sukuna is before you, one arm stretched out to catch your crestfallen face, "Look at me." He speaks gentler than you have ever heard.

With one hand on your jaw, and another cupping the back of your head he huffs air from his nose. "You are a fool."

You cannot look away from him, but all you want now is to hide your face.

"So very foolish." He speaks clearly, "To hide from me, to work in such a condition." Before his words even hit you, you are struck but the grasping of your waist by his other two hands. His eyes remain open but within a moment all your pain is gone. An unintentional noise escapes you at the immediate relief you are brought.

It cannot be said whether the shock of Sukunas RCT or the grasp he had on you caused you to fall limply into his grasp but you have no time to prepare before he is lifting you tenderly into his arms. An unseen sparkle in his eyes. He carries you the few feet to his bed before he lays you across his lap.

"Your condition is not ideal. You shall not work. You are to stay with me" He is petting your hair rather oddly, as if you are a wounded animal he has found.

Attempting to rise you start, "I feel- I- I must extend my gratitude-"

But he is placing a hand on your stomach to keep you down, "You will extend your gratitude by never hiding from me again."

There is no room for argument. You nod up at him. He has one arm still under your knees, another on your waist, and a third stroking your cheek.

"I will never allow you pain again." He murmurs. "Never again." His palm is large enough to cover your face wholly. "I shall keep you within my sight henceforth."

And it is at this moment that you wonder if, perhaps, you are closer to the king than you had originally thought. If you, by chance, meant something to him? If he had been worried for you. But in your dazed state within your king's arms, you smile to yourself, thinking tiredly of how kindly and merciful he had always been to you.

What you did not yet know, was that it was he that was a fool for you.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

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ozzgin · 2 months ago

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content: female reader, monster romance, Secret Santa gift for the lovely @jinnmyc! Happy Holidays <3

You've always found your monstrous husband to be particularly imposing. He never loses his cool, and his smile is a rarity reserved only for your presence.

"He's a tough one," you find yourself remarking to his beastly butler.

The scaly servant nods, a faint grin threatening to crease his features. With a dry cough, he covers his face, allowing himself a moment of recollection.

You see, there's a certain intimacy that remains hidden even from you. He knows it too well. He'd probably be thrown over a grill if he ever dared to suggest such blasphemous truths to you, so he can only smile cheekily whenever you mention his Master's impenetrable character.

Indeed, only he's been allowed to witness the Dark Lord's pathetic, deplorable displays. Without exception, they're all about you. His jealousy, his greed, his desperate need to be in your presence.

His horrid Majesty will lead strategic meetings with a calculated frown, only to crumble to his knees when all other officials have left the chamber. "Two days left, Sir," the butler will coo at the unholy creature. "(Y/N) will be exactly where you left her."

What else comes to mind? Perhaps all the times he quietly listens to your daily interactions, merely flinching - an unnoticeable jolt - whenever you recall a particularly daring approach from some poor soul. "Then he grabbed my shoulder," you'll say, narrating your story unaware and indifferent. Ah, there it is; the butler's eyes narrow in glee. Whoever found the audacity to touch you shall be swiftly discarded. Unbeknownst to you, someone's fate has been sealed.

"I didn't think you'd be home for Christmas," you exclaim, surprised by the Demon King's arrival. "Weren't you caught in a war?"

"Well, I made it happen," he responds nonchalantly.

The butler follows his movements with a silent chuckle. He thinks back to the fire, the scorched cities, the piles of cadavers growing with each swift blow of his Master's unforgiving wrath.

"You're exceptionally vicious today, Sir," he said at the time. "Might it have anything to do with the little human's approaching holidays?"

"Ah! This reminds me," the Dark Lord began, pulling his sword out of a fallen soldier, "bring me the goods tonight. I've been told the Earthlings wrap their presents in colorful paper."

#monster husband #yandere demon king #monster imagine #monster x reader #monster x human #monster fucker #terato #teratophillia

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beloveds-embrace · 3 months ago

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Dukedom au masterlist (yes i need to update it ik) and we will not talk abt the abrupt ending 😭

The grand ballroom of glittered with the light of a thousand candles, their flames dancing across marble floors and golden fixtures hung from the ceilings. A symphony played softly in the background, a perfect complement to the hum of ongoing conversation and chatter. You stood at the center of it all, draped in a gown of midnight blue silk, embroidered with silver thread that mirrored the stars. A gift from Simon, one that had you staring at the beautiful dress in awe.

Tonight, you were the very image of grace and poise.

Your face and movements are calm and collected, hiding what you truly feel beneath. Lately, whispers of dishonor had begun circulating; rumors that your husband had fled a border skirmish back when he’d been deployed, abandoning his men, yet had paid for the matter to be buried. Vile lies, born of cowardice and malice. John’s name, his reputation, and the honor of your house were at stake; disloyalty towards the empire was seen as treason, and that was unforgivable.

You would not allow it.

The first spark of rage had ignited the moment you’d overheard the vile accusations from another lady, one of your more arrogant rivals who had laughed snidely. From there, the rumors spread like wildfire, poisoning the halls of the court and society.

But you were no stranger to such games like these. Tonight, after much planning, you’ll put an end to this farce.

You began with your loyal ladies-in-waiting. Each one owed their position to you, and in return, they offered their unwavering loyalty. “Listen carefully,” you instructed them during a private meeting in your sitting room, the door locked behind you. “Go into the court, the markets, the salons- anywhere whispers thrive. I want names, places, and patterns. Who speaks these lies, and who listens too closely?”

They curtsied and departed without hesitation, melting into the bustling world outside of the manor. Meanwhile, you turned your attention to your maids and house staff. Servants were the lifeblood of any noble house, privy to secrets thought hidden.

You met with them personally with Kyle’s help, ensuring they understood the stakes. “Speak subtly,” you said, your voice calm but firm. “Let it slip that those who spread these rumors do so for their own gain, that there’s no substance to the rumors. Plant doubt. Create cracks.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Kyle nods his head, hands on your waist. He leans down, and kisses your forehead, and you smile all sweet and pretty at him. “Whatever you want.”

While you wove your network of spies, John watched quietly from the shadows of the manor. Though he trusted you implicitly, he couldn’t help but feel a mixture of awe and unease. He didn’t want to doubt you, but he worried nonetheless for you.

In his study, he sat with Kyle.

“How’s she faring?” John asked, puffing a cigar as he leaned back in his chair. Papers were scattered on his desk, though they didn’t require immediate attention or replies. Pressed close to Kyle, bodies warm, he didn’t want to go back to working for now.

Kyle hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “She’s… efficient, John. The staff is utterly devoted to her even without my help. I’ve seen no signs of hesitation in her plans.”

John chuckled dryly, though there was a flicker of appreciation in his eyes. “I am not surprised. She’s scarier than any battlefield, Kyle. And they love her.”

With the groundwork laid, you began preparing to host a big gala at the manor. Invitations were sent far and wide, carrying the promise of exquisite dining, captivating entertainment, and the opportunity to curry favor with one of the most powerful families in the region.

None dared refuse.

Johnny worked tirelessly to ensure every detail of the menu was flawless, and though he would have helped anyways, he still enjoyed all the kisses he got as reward from yoh. “You’re pilin’ it on thick, Duchess,” he remarked one evening, wiping his brow as he inspected a rack of lamb. “Even for you.”

“This isn’t just a party, Johnny,” you replied, humming. “This is war.”

“War it is, then. Anything for you, bonnie.” he muttered, diving back into his work with renewed determination. After a very heated look from you that had him preening, though; he looked handsome in his element. And you’ll make sure to really show him your appreciation for all his hard work later, in the privacy of your rooms.

At every other gala and gathering, you moved through the crowd like a dancer with a purpose. You guided conversations subtly, planting seeds of doubt and faltering those who tried to be a bit too brave- and your reputation as a “people’s princess” helped so greatly. Your allies- the few you trusted among the nobility-played their roles perfectly.

Simon, especially. You had specifically asked for his help, curled warm and cozy on his lap one night. He’d kissed you breathless and told you he would always be there for you.

“Lord Marcan, was it?” Simon mused during one party, his glass of whiskey balanced effortlessly in his hand. The others immediately listen to him; though he isn’t the most talkative noble, his words carry weight. “I’ve heard some interesting things about him. Did you know he’s deeply in debt? I wonder how far a man would go to escape ruin.”

The other nobles exchanged glances, uncertainty flickering across their faces. You watched from a distance, satisfied as Simon delivered the blow with effortless charm.

Your web was nearly complete, each thread pulling tighter around Lord Marcan- the instigator of the rumors- until he had no room to maneuver. At the final ball of the season, the one hosted by you and John, you made your final move.

You descended the grand staircase as the guests gathered, your presence commanding attention. At your signal, the servants unveiled a surprise: a performance of actors reenacting a scene from an old skirmish. But this was no ordinary play; it was a dramatized retelling of that battle, one that highlighted John’s bravery and leadership even when Lord Marcan had tried to say John had fled that day.

The crowd was entranced, all earlier doubts finally wavering and shattering. You saw Marcan shift uncomfortably, his face pale as his lies unraveled before him and eyes turned towards him in disgust.

From the balcony above, John watched with Simon and Kyle at his side. “She’s terrifying.” he murmured, though his voice carried a note of awe.

Simon smirked. “You married a bloody tactician.”

Kyle simply nodded. “She fights for you, for us, John. And she wins.”

By the end of the evening, Lord Marcan was a broken man and his wife, Lady Marcan who had laughed at you by the rumor, was seething. Their allies abandoned them, their name tarnished by his cowardice and deceit and her aftions.

And the rumors about John’s supposed abandonment of his men? Gone.

That night, as you removed your jewelry in the quiet of your chambers, John approached you. His hands rested on your bare shoulders, his touch warm and grounding.

“You’ve been busy, beloved.” he said, his voice soft but laced with admiration.

“I did what needed to be done.” you replied, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “I know you could have simply challenged him to a duel… but we didn’t have full confirmation it was him who started. I had to do it this way.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re terrifying, love. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

From the shadows of the room, Simon leaned casually against the doorframe. “She’s not wrong, John. Best keep on her good side.”

Johnny’s voice echoed from the hallway as he came by with a tray of food. Kyle comes as well, carrying glasses of wine. “Aye, and keep feeding her. Keeps her from plotting.”

Kyle sighs, though he has a smile on his face as he sets the glasses down and instead comes to help you. “…he isn’t exactly wrong. You were incredible…. And scary.”

“Perfect, in other words.” John hums, an eyebrow raising. You do not have enough time to ask anything before he and Kyle are gently turning you around on the seat, face to face with John who kneels down. “You’ve worked so hard for me, for us, my Duchess. Let me take care of you now, hm?”

“John…“

“No more words, my love,” he shakes his head, Kyle’s hands reaching to unlace your dress, your corset, until your breasts spill out. John doesn’t even seem mildly bothered by the layers of your skirt, flipping them up until you are indecent in front of your men and he is face to face with your panties. The way they look at you, so much want…

You don’t mind. The slick spot forming speaks more than enough anyways.

“Tonight,” John murmurs, kissing your inner thighs. “Will be all about spoiling you, wife.”

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graceintorah · 2 years ago

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The Unforgiving Servant

The vast mercy, grace, and abounding chesed (lovingkindness) of our Father and King culminates in His willingness to forgive. So, as recipients of His lavish love, why do we often prefer vengeance, pay back, and punishment when wrongs have been committed against us? The parable of the unforgiving servant demonstrates this truth perfectly; and yet, I wonder if we really can see just how much we…

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#Cain #Counting the Omer #Erekh Apayim #forgiveness #Jonah #Lamech #longsuffering #Love #Mussar #Parable of the Unforgiving Servant #patience #Speaking the Truth in Love #The 13 Attributes of Mercy #Yom Kippur

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mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess · 1 month ago

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Hua Cheng will eat Xie Lian's unforgivable culinary sins of dishes but if anyone else makes food for him he becomes the most pretentious asshole in existence

"The flavors are poorly balanced. So poorly they are starving in the streets. There are no words in the vocabulary to describe the texture of this meal other than sad. Why does it look like it was the third victim to Dianxia's pathetic servants' fifteenth squabble of the day? I'm going to die if I eat a bite more of this and I have died 3 times already."

#tgcf #tian guan ci fu #hualian

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kingdomoftheheavens · 3 months ago

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Both of the Debtors in the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant Ended the Story in Debtors' Prison

I will quote the entire parable, then make a few comments: Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?” Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times. “Therefore, the kingdom of heaven is like a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants. As he began the settlement, a…

#debt #debtors&039; prison #forgiveness #Jesus #parable #the unforgiving servant #tirrture #torturers #two debtors #unforgiveness #unforgiving servant

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1920sladydectective · 3 months ago

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Mhhhhh, maybe

-Ambessa x Babett's "Worker"

-A captuered War Prize 😌

But also

-A Servant of Hers

Please dont feel forced to write anything, Just saw your request and wanted to give Suggestions.🙊💕

Hello darling! Thank you for the ideas, whilst I may visit them all I have done a captured war prize for now. It was supposed to be short and sexy but then it became..this? She plays the slow game and conquers the reader in other ways.

I hope you like it, thank you for the support <3

I haven't proof read it much because I am literally exhausted lol

MDNI 18+

Warnings - Manipulation, Mind Games, Captive, Degradation, Pet names, Reader doing accidental voyeurism, Oral, hair pulling.

Her Prized Possession - 3.8K NSFW

They’d come through like a tornado, ripping apart your entire life and feasting on the rubble. People had fled, terrified of the swift and unforgiving invasion. Those who remained were rounded up and tossed into carts. The ground shook, frightened by the fury of Noxus and at the heart of it all was her. Ambessa Medarda was renowned for her cruelty, her efficiency and most of all her greed.

You were the perfect example of that.

You had been pulled from your apothecary’s hut, cotton dress filthy from your attempts to hide. They raided you of your life’s work, people throwing you into a pile of frightened villagers. The air shifted, the soldiers straightening as certain steps commanded their attention. Without looking up you knew it was her, and fury burned bright. This self obsessed, pompous woman had destroyed your life and for what? She lingered a step away, sword raised lazily as if taunting farm yarn animals. You only had a few seconds, and even if it was fruitless you had to try.

As others cowered, obeying her cruel words, you slipped your fingers around the knife in your sock and shot forward. Somehow it made contact, slicing a gash into her leg, trailing down her leg.

“Monster,” You snarled.

You were risen into the air by your hair, a pained yelp leaning you as you stared into the eyes of a hungry beast. Golden eyes gazed at you, surprised and amused. You were going to die now, and she was laughing in your face.

“She’ll do,” She said easily, throwing your body at the ground behind her, before wandering off with no sign of injury. Confusion had eaten you until two lean Noxian soldiers had appeared, spears in hand.

Their touch was uncomfortably gentle, ushering you like a scared dog from the village into an imposing, structured tent. Fear licked at your bones, a fate worse than death settling on you like a thick cloak. Maids with pretty eyes and practised fingers removed your dress and replaced it with a soft red silk slip. Oh. You were a prize, an object like the towering pile of goods in their camp, to be used and discarded.

It didn’t take long for them to chain you to a small post next to a large, velvet armchair. There you sat, resting on your knees on cold marble. You felt ornamental, your humanity dripped away as you merged with the surroundings. You could only be thankful that it was warm in the tent, for the winter winds howled outside as afternoon beckoned.

When she entered you refused to look up, muscles tensing.

“Sulking, are we Dear?” It was honeyed, as fabric dropped to the floor, “I wouldn’t, it was a good hit, if you’d gone up slightly it might have even done something,”

Your cheeks coloured with frustration. You hated her, hated how small she made you feel, how effortlessly she had crushed you. Worst of all you hated the beauty she wielded. Like a serpent, blinding you with glittering scales as she wound around you, squeezing you till you burst.

“Don’t tell me you’re ignoring me now,” She pouted, summoning your eyes instinctively, “There she is, brave warrior,”

You frowned, “I suppose it’s not enough that I’m here, you have to mock my only agency,”

Ambessa moved forward leisurely, in only black underwear and a robe, settling into her armchair, “I never mock a bold manoeuvre, little one, no matter how fruitless,”

She tugged you forward slightly, your head forced to rest on her thigh as she poured a cup of tea. You grunted, staring at the rug between her legs as she intertwined her fingers in your hair. Her touch was kind and repetitive, caressing your locks as she picked up a book and began to read aloud. Adrenaline was drowning you but your anticipation garnered nothing. She stayed like this for hours, muttering to you. The fire and her touch forced you into acknowledging your exhaustion. Occasionally she would offer water, fingers wielding a crystal glass for you. It took five tries for you to accept, your throat aching from dehydration. You were rewarded with a scratch under your chin as her voice continued to wash over you. In another life this would have filled you with contentment and it grated at you.

Moments later you were being moved again, picked up as though a feather to rest on her silky thighs. The hand she reattached to your head pushed you into the crook of her shoulder, her smell potent and warm. Iron and sweat clashed with spices and sea air, leaving your flagging mind woozy. You couldn’t escape and you had no way of harming her, so sitting in her lap became your only option.

You hadn’t noticed your fluttering eyelids and heavy breath until your stomach growled, cramping at its emptiness. Her voice stopped immediately as the book slammed shut. Those eyes, now kind, surveyed you. With a melodic ring, a bell to her side beckoned two maids.

“What do you wish to eat?” Ambessa asked, tucking a strand behind your ear, “I shall share whatever you have,”

“Pork stew,” You muttered, desire for food and comfort outweighing your doubts. If she’d wanted you dead, you’d be a corpse.

“A local delicacy, I’m told,” Her words are in your ear, lips practically against them.

The food arrived faster than you’d thought possible, steaming and hearty in little gold bowls. Your stomach interjected again, eyes wide and desperate. To your immense surprise, she undid your shackles and allowed you to feed yourself. Though you were still anchored to her lap by a strong arm, this newfound freedom caused a rush of joy. The stew was exceptional, though more decadent than you ever would have had it. The chef must have had a heavy hand with the spices, no cares as to their cost, the heat flooding you. Ambessa seemed comforted too, her portion over double yours as you watched in subtle amazement at her appetite. It could have fed a family of four from your village with ease.

Whatever plans she had for you, it seemed she would not be enacting them tonight. Your silk slip was a nightgown and nothing more, as she moved with you through the tent into an adjoining room with a large, fur covered bed.

“Now then,” Her hand held your chin, “Shackles for bed tonight, wouldn’t want you wandering off until you’ve proved your loyalty,”

Loyalty? That’s what she wanted?

The metal felt warmer than before, less weighted as she clasped it shut and bundled you up. Her form slid in next to you, though she mercifully did not insist you touch her. You did not speak, unable to give her the satisfaction after having to tolerate so much, though she wished you a tender goodnight.

Your sleep was fitful, filled with slashing blades and burning embers. You awoke alone, furs wrapped tight. A slip of parchment was to your left in a sharp hand.

I shall be away all day,

There are clothes and some books on my armchair for you.

Mira will see to anything you need,

A.M.

True to her word, a slight serving girl entered the moment you moved to the main space, trays of food and drink with her. She helped you dress, braided your hair and even undid the shackles.

“Lady Medarda said this is a show of trust,” Her words were clear, as if dictating from a note, “If you attempt anything, guards will be on you before you can lift a scrap of the tent’s fabric,”

“Lovely,” You grumbled to yourself, “Her trust gives me the ability to lift a glass unaided,”

“If you behave she will bring your medical journals and allow you to sleep without restraint,” She said, a smile on her face. Of course she had predicted you’d complain.

The book she had read to you yesterday was in the pile and after breakfast you found yourself wanting to learn its conclusion. Warm in the wool trousers and jumper Ambessa had provided you, you sat in the chair and finished it. If Mira had any opinions about you sitting in her Mistress’s chair she did not voice them, and the small rebellion quieted some of the caged panic that rattled in your chest. Her slowness to act just gave you time to think of an escape plan and then you could get away elsewhere

The sun set quickly, your time wasted with dozing and books as you memorised each corner of the room. Though this was technically a tent, it was secured enough to act as a house, with the only way out being forward which wasn’t a way out at all. Lady Medarda ensured that.

When Ambessa returned dinner had long since passed, and you had begrudgingly put yourself to bed. The curtain parted and her fatigued face came into view.

“There you are,” She sighed, “I thought you would have dug a tunnel out of here by now,”

“Cutlery’s too dull, no doubt a coincidence,” You found yourself quipping, observing the way her mouth creased into a grin.

“No need for a sharp knife when your meat is tender,” She purred, moving to the other side of the bed and removing her outer clothes, “Did you have a restful day?”

She seemed genuinely interested, and not for the first time you wondered where the wolf had gone. Shifting your tactics in the hopes of softening her, you gave a muffled answer. Mollified, she curled up as she had the night before and fell asleep almost immediately.

You were gloriously shackleless and yet if you fled now she would probably crush your throat before both feet hit the floor. It was expected this first night, and probably the second, a test of your resolve and patience. The only way to go would be when she genuinely trusted your obedience.

Ten days and a camp change later you were beginning to lose patience. She was vigilant, but considerate and it left you now windows of opportunity. You weren’t a hardened warrior as she had joked that first day, you were an apothecary with nothing to do but lounge around and be read to by a infamous warlord. You were beginning to feel mad, a life of leisure so roughly thrust upon you. The conditions only improved with the move and her tent now had its own bathroom, a humongous glistening tub calling to you. Ambessa had begun to ask you for opinions on her expansion plans, seemingly wanting to preserve the charm of your land whilst overpowering it with Noxian glamour. WIth your input she kept the old churches and allowed your people to tend to their lands if they swore allegiance to Noxus.

In a gilded cage, miles away from your home, you weighed the advantages of staying entangled against the bliss of freedom. The guards were becoming more lax, allowing you to wander through parts of the camp and make friends with Mira and the other maids. She had not harmed you, save pulling your hair that first day and you were well provided for. She’d even managed to tug more substantial conversations from you, even when they lacked a business element. You’d told her of your journey to becoming an apothecary, and she had explained the first time wore armour, clattering to the floor mid fight.

At night, as rain slammed down and the wind chilled your toes, you would gaze longingly at the doorway and then find yourself tugged into warm, firm arms. Much like reading time, you were held and pressed into her, scent dizzying. She smiled, you had noticed, when she cradled you in her sleep. Each time it would wipe the door from your mind as you succumbed to a more contented sleep. Most confusing of all, she was showing no signs of tiring of you as a ‘toy soldier’ as she had affectionately dubbed you. Nobody seemed to understand why you lingered in her space rather than being given your own, perhaps not even her.

On the thirtieth day things shifted. After dinner, a heavy dress floating around your feet, you slipped back into the tent and were met with breathy, loud moans. Not Medarda’s, though she was clearly the cause. Hidden by the thick curtains, a high female voice begged and cried the warlord’s name, the creaking of your bed audible.

Your bed.

Her bed, you corrected grimly, embarrassment sticky in your throat. The noise ceased almost immediately after you had entered, and your feet froze to the ground. A nameless, unknown girl slipped from the bedroom, meeting your gaze with a pleasure struck face. A vapid giggle left her as she slipped past you.

Ambessa appeared moments later, robe loose around her, with an easy expression. It darkened imperceptibly in your presence, though you felt the subtle chill.

“I didn’t realise you were back, Warrior,” She muttered, voice heavy, “That wasn’t planned, I-I shall notify you if I intend to use our space like that,”

Our.

Wait, did she think you’d be jealous?

“How the mighty have fallen,” You scoffed, unable to meet her gaze, “Shouldn’t I be fearing consequences from you, as the captive,”

“You’re not the one with a new leg scar,”

Touche. She seemed to hold you on a pedestal for that act alone and you had yet to decipher why.

It was made clear by the flurry of people that the bedroom was stripped and remade. It calmed you, the faceless woman erased from the space though you and Ambessa lingered. You didn’t care what she did with her love life but you decided you didn’t need to know about it.

Unfortunately, it was hard to avoid. Trysts, people trying to charm their way into your her bed as you ate at the communal table and several conquests leaving that you had to face the next day. It made your stomach ache, fingers dancing with nervous energy every time she lay next to you, her scent changing every so slightly if she had had company. Almost another month passed with you on tenterhooks, stuck between the safety of your leisure with her and the stain of sin on your sanctuary.

The worst of all had to be tonight though. You had awoken alone for the first time, colder than ever, when you heard it. Ambessa’s blissful sigh. She was actively being pleasured in her armchair whilst you fucking slept. Through a crack in the curtain you could see tan legs kneeling just as you had that first night, between her thighs with their head on her skin. The notable difference was how they devoured her, pulling dark moans and filthy words from her gravelly voice. It was hard to ignore, her scent drenching you in the bed you shared as she used another’s body. You tried to stifle the noise, covering your ears and burrowing into the bed. This made the scent issue exponentially worse, especially when the mattress dipped and her still sex slicked body curled against your form. Her lips kissed your forehead, the burn of her skin scalding you.

Her pleasure haunts your dreams, lurking shadows and echoing noise. Close, but just out of reach. For the first time you wake before her, skin muggy and unsettled as you dressed in a robe and wandered into the morning dew. The grass was beginning to have that telltale icy crunch, cracking under your velvet slippers as you slipped out of the camp unnoticed. Your thoughts sit like damp coffee grounds, thick and grainy as you fight the memories of the night before, choking what they make you feel. It was not jealousy, it was anger to be sure.

There was no direction to your wandering. The treeline called to you with its snowy arms reaching high, animals dancing through the dense white landscape. Not too far in the distance there stood a frozen lake and a childish part of you yearned to skate across it, your body moving you unbidden. It was larger up close, iridescent swirls of nature showing the loose water below. It reminded you of how you felt about your life now, about Ambessa.

Fear and nostalgia sat steadfast as your ice, hardening your resolve and keeping your wit sharp, but beneath was the flow of her. In two short months she had managed to nurture your underfed body and mind, relishing in your rebellion and cherishing your input. The warlord existed so clearly to you, but you could not reconcile her with the reader who brewed you floral tea. One stirred anxiety and the other calm. Picking up shards of ice and flinging them across the lake, you attempted to untangle the Noxian web within you. Sparkles of sunlight grew higher as you stewed, beginning to blind you as you stepped closer to the edge, ice grunting under you.

“I’m not sure you’re dressed for whatever this is,” Ambessa’s voice rang out, her body leaning against a tree.

You had sensed her, though her movements were muffled, form tightening.

“Something troubling you?”

“Just fancied a walk,”

“In a robe and slippers?” She snorted, “Some walk indeed,”

“Did you need something?”

“You, Dear,” She muttered, at your back in an instant, “I woke up alone,”

Your heart panged oddly, her presence fueling the rushing currents under the ice, as you lent into her warmth. “Here I am,”

Her cloak engulfed you, dragging you under as her dulcet tones rasped in your ear, “Let’s get you home, Little one,”

Home.

It occurred to you then as you stumbled back with her that perhaps you hadn’t been a prisoner in a while. Here you stood, free and yet wishing only to return to the warmth she had made for you.

A bath was drawn and you crawled into it obediently. Her eyes were shut, though she cleaned your hair and muttered to you about her day to come. It was peace. It was bliss. It was your worst nightmare. Cold receded and you allowed yourself to slip into a warm lull.

She left soon after, leaving behind new pyjamas and a sweetbread. You stayed in bed, as confused and dazed as those first weeks.

That night you were awoken by the same wanton sounds in the living room and your nostrils flared, fingers crushing the softness of your sheets. Your emotions flopped again. You hated her. She was vile and infuriating and brutal and somehow constantly having fucking sex.

When Ambessa slid into bed this time, sweet smells of pleasure wafting from her, you let out a growl.

“DId I wake you?” She muttered, a smile etched on her lips.

“You don’t touch me like that,” It slipped out, fury and turmoil.

“Pardon?” Her eyes had darkened, observing you curled and tense.

“W-We do everything else, you treat me as an equal and give me freedom, but you use our space for cheap pleasures whilst I sleep,”

“I was unaware it was a pro-”

“You don’t touch me like that,” It was a whine now, “Why?”

“You’ve never asked, little warrior,” Her voice was sin, soaking you and tugging you close, “I didn’t realise you were unhappy with me,”

“Please,” You croaked, gripping her forearm weakly, “I-”

Her lips were on yours, firm and rough, her tongue slipping into your mouth. Pretty girl, she thought, delicate and hers. You melted like butter, nuzzling close and stroking her grey curls. She was perfect, and you finally had all of her. Her fingers danced along your silk nightgown, cupping a breast with a firm hand. Leaning forward, she nipped at your neck as skilled hands massaged neglected flesh. You were keening instantly, eyes glossy and lips parted.

Minutes drained away against her ministrations as your thighs rubbed together, the burn beginning to hurt as she teased your pebbled nipples in her mouth. Your nightgown was wet from her saliva, and the friction of the fabric with her tongue had you rutting against her thigh. Bruises were forming on your neck, your upper body ruined before she’d even undressed you.

“Please,” It seemed the only word you could remember, puffy mouth slurring it at every opportunity.

“Again,” She teased, finally ripping your clothes from you, “Louder,”

You pleaded and gasped, each word heightening your arousal, your desperation, as her fingers stroked your folds. She was kind, allowing you the pleasure you yearned for, slicked thumb rubbing circles on your clit as she stretched you slowly.

Ambessa felt a swell of triumph. It had taken her endless hours of uncharacteristic kindness and stern patience, allowing you to cycle through defiance, anger and acceptance as often as you needed until you finally succumbed. You were drenched and mewling against her, sex drunk eyes stuck to her. It had been fulfilling, breaking you in, just as she had suspected when she caught eyes with a crazed, dirt covered woman with the audacity to wield a blade to her.

Tugging orgasm after orgasm from you, cunt quivering and tensing as you drooled mindlessly, she relished in her victory. Her power was etched into you now.

“Silly girl,” She cooed, voice a knife edge, “I knew I could make you mine,”

Her words cut through the tingling fog. You realised, with a dizzying stab, that you had always been her war prize, she just hadn’t conquered you till now. Each tender touch and measured interaction was to break you into her willing little toy and here you were, fucking yourself shamelessly on her thick digits. You would have been more hurt, a flare of resistance kicking in, if it weren’t for the unabashed love and satisfaction in her eyes. Well then, you guess you’d both been played. The mighty warlord may have broken you, reshaping your desires, but she had fallen in love in the process and you would relish that till your dying breath.

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to just use me months ago,” You quipped, starting a slow and methodical worship of her scarred body.

“You wouldn’t have wanted it, warrior,” She muttered, amused by your acceptance, “I am many things, but I only fuck those who ask,”

“I want it,” You sucked her nipple, humping her leg as her eyes slammed shut.

“I know, doll,” Her hands pulled your hair, making you yelp happily, “You soaked my hand like a good girl to prove it,”

For a moment, as you curled between her legs and began to eat like a woman starved, you wondered if this was the right choice.

Ambessa let out a noise, confusing to your ears. It was nothing like the others you had heard in her time with others, it was delirious and light, happy pants slipping out as you sucked and fucked her with your tongue. She came quickly, face blank as she suffocated you with her cunt. Her touch, despite it all, was tender. She was yours and you were hers.

There was nothing more right than that.

#ambessa x reader #ambessa medarda #ambessa smut #arcane ambessa #reader insert

541 notes · View notes

marthawrites · 11 months ago

Note

Could you write smut for Aemond targaryen with the prompts 17,40,44,47,53 and 54 maybe with a targaryen reader? Just something gentle, sweet and soft <3 btw I’m talking abt this prompt list

I absolutely can! Apologies for making you wait since January for this. I hope you're still around to see (and, fingers crossed) enjoy it!

"Vok" (Perfect)

Aemond Targaryen x sister reader

Word count: 2.6k+

About: You and Aemond pledged to each other long ago. Tonight, beneath the blanket of darkness, you revel in each other's adoration.

Includes: SMUT. Featuring brother x sister incest, Aemond is soft but only to his little sister, dirty talk, female masturbation, guided masturbation, praise, unprotected vaginal sex, and a splash of breeding kink

Note: Hello lovely reader! It's been a hot minute since I've wrote Aemond - the posters and trailers have me going (affectionately) insane! Triple warning: this fic is brother x sister targcest. If you do not like that KEEP ON SCROLLING. This is my first time writing this dynamic. Reader is implied to have silver hair, pale skin, and purple eyes. Everything else is up to you! As always, I hope you enjoy this fic! ❤️

To the realm, Aemond Targaryen was the cruel prince. Aloof, stoic, unforgiving.

To the realm, he was an ambitious and willful young man who rode Vhagar, the largest and oldest dragon in the world–the same dragon who helped Queen Visenya conquer Westeros.

To the realm, he was the second son of King Viserys. And, as such, would play the game of nobility by putting duty above love–marrying outside of his Targaryen lineage to seed dragons further into the world.

To you, his little sister and second daughter of King Viserys, he was your protector.

Your secret.

A poorly kept secret in some corners of the castle; nosy servants and their obnoxious fucking tendencies. But, with Aemond’s less than idle threats about cutting the tongue out of anyone’s throat who would speak about it, it ended up being a well-kept secret.

The second son and second daughter of the Dragon King; who better to love, and cherish, and pledge to, than each other?

Aemond would sooner die than see you marry off to some lowly lord of a “great” House. You were the blood of Old Valyria. Everyone–no matter their feats–was lowly in comparison to you. And you, his sweet sister, deserved only the best.

Barely a year separated your ages. Neither of you remembered a life without the other.

Long before you gave your maidenhead to your brother you gave him your heart. And your heart he held.

The night was late. These dark hours were some of the only unadulterated times you had together. Aemond kissed you slowly, passionately, gently stroking along your cheeks with his thumbs as he did. You were tangled in his bed together. You, stripped down to only your shift, and him, stripped down to only his sleep trousers. One of your shift’s thin straps kept sliding down your shoulder, and each time it did Aemond’s warm mouth kissed over the smooth lovely skin. You panted soft sounds–each feminine simper jolting right to his cock–as he lavished you in affection.

“You’re kissing me silly, lēkia (brother). My head feels full of bees and I’m hot. So, so hot,” you whispered against his kiss-swollen mouth. “Will you not feel for yourself?” He hadn’t yet made a move to touch you where you really, truly, wanted him; something that had you whining and pouting. While his hands alternated between stroking your face and groping your body–waist, hips, thighs–yours were buried in his hair. It was all down and free. The silken sheet of it spilled over his shoulders, spilled over you, and you relished the feel of it inside your hands. Against your bare skin. “Please?”

“Please what, hāedar? (little sister)” He asked, voice mellow with just the right amount of rumble from his chest.

“Please touch me,” you answered, back naturally arching to press your soft body against the hard planes of his own.

Another low sound came from him. He pressed a warm, wide palm up the perfect curve of your back until he squeezed into the nape of your hair. “Such a pretty word from a pretty mouth. Have my kisses made you ache with need, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon)?”

“Yes.” The single word, its single syllable, rolled off your tongue before your brain even fully registered his question. You stared at him desperately. One eye was so beautiful; so ancient in its color and proclamation, just like your own. The other reflected faceted edges of the sapphire he wore in place of his missing eye. You didn’t know which was more enchanting.

“How long can you go, hm? Without me touching you?”

“W-what?”

He laughed. A rumble beneath his pale, taut chest. “How long before you succumb to madness by me not touching your perfect cunny?”

“Aemond…,” you whined. Pitiful. “Not much longer! Please, lēkia, I need you, please.”

A serpent’s grin curved his mouth and darkened his eye as he shifted positions with you. Now, he sat upright with his back against his headboard and pulled you to sit in front of him.

You nestled between his legs, your back flush with his chest, and his stiff cock rested against the small of your back. A blush bloomed beneath your cheeks. You knew lust ran as wild in his veins as it did in yours.

“Tell me, sweet sister…,” he started, whispering by your ear. Both his hands cupped and squeezed over your breasts. Their softness melted against his palms and he groaned at the sensation. Perfect. You were so fucking perfect. “Have you touched yourself to peak before?”

A stammer replaced the little mewl in your throat. “H-how do you mean?”

He laughed again, pinching your nipples. “Mm… are you sure?”

Lust and need and fire roared in your blood to the point of almost drowning everything else out. “I d-don’t understand,” you admitted. But, it was a lie. You knew what he meant. You could only hope he’d go easy on you so you wouldn't have to admit, prove, or say you knew what he spoke of.

“Why are you playing shy with me, hāedar? I think you know exactly what I mean. There is no shame in it,” he spoke sly, hands pushing the hem of your shift up until he held the material in a fist upon your abdomen. With his other hand he tugged your smallclothes down your bare legs, tossing them off. The flats of all his fingers ghosted over your exposed cunt. Testing you. Feeling you. He hissed an inward breath. “Fuck–”, he growled. “‘Tis a good thing I was born a prince. Gods know if I had this wet little cunt between my thighs I wouldn’t get anything done. Ever. For how often I’d fuck myself silly on my own fingers.”

Aemond’s vulgarity sent a coil of tension wringing in your belly. Slick arousal pooled hotter beneath his touch. Your clit throbbed–the little pearl silently screaming for attention. “Yes,” you breathed, shuddering.

“Yes, what?”

Your older brother wasn’t going easy on you. “Yes. I… I know what you speak of. And.. yes, I do. Sometimes…,” you admitted with a wave of embarrassment.

Somehow he grew harder against the small of your back. He throbbed. “Show me,” he demanded.

“What! Aemond, no. Please, please, please no. Don’t make me show you.” Mortification replaced your previous embarrassment. Yet, your spine quivered with another rush of liquid arousal.

“I would love nothing more than to see how you bring yourself pleasure. Do you think of me when you do, byka zaldrīzes?”

You nodded. Dizziness warbled your brain.

“Such a sweet perfect thing,” he cooed. He'd felt that nervous energy tense you. He also saw the exquisite thrum of your pulsepoint beneath your neck, too. Two sides of the same coin: carnal desire. When he spoke again it dripped with wicked passion. “Don’t be nervous, I'll guide you through it.”

It had been quite some time since you last brought yourself to climax all on your own. Aemond was always more than eager to give you pleasure. Tonight, however, something was different. Idly you wondered what it could be. Before you thought about it too much, Aemond guided your dominant hand to that delicate space between your thighs. You gasped at the sensation of your own touch. Torture never felt so divine. Your little bud sang as you circled it, rubbed over it. You sighed sweetly. “How did you make me so wet?”

It took controlled effort to not spill himself across your back at that very moment. “Spread your legs for me, princess. Let me see and hear what you’re doing.”

You obeyed. With your legs spread wider, now, it was all the easier to resume your previous motions. Flicking and rubbing over your bud felt divine–excited little sounds already spilled from your mouth. You ached inside, too, wanting–needing–to be stretched around something. The memory of Aemond's long fingers pumping into you while his thumb claimed your clit had your face hot. You couldn't reach those same spots he could. You bit your bottom lip, whimpering.

Aemond watched from above with a hungry lecherous eye. Beneath your shift he could see your breasts, slope of belly… and then further below, your creamy thighs spilled wide open. Fuck–he was so hard his back hurt. Your girlish sounds sent his desire blazing. “Your little clit is so achy, isn’t it? I know how much you like it played with,” he said by your ear. “Do you ever go inside?”

You nodded, allowing your head to fall back against his shoulder. You stayed on your pearl, still, legs tensing with bliss as it warmed and tingled your blood.

“Show me,” he growled again. “Be a good girl. And afterward? Don’t worry, I'll take care of you. Promise.”

Without hesitation you pushed two of your fingers into your warmth. Your body squeezed around the intrusion, inner walls flexing, trying to pull them in deeper. A gasped moan left your parted lips. “I-I’ve never done this before.” You’ve never shown anyone this before is what you meant. Aemond knew what you meant.

“I know. Shh… it’s okay, I'll guide you through it.” He gently touched the top of your hand and relished your little tendons flexing with the effort of your self pleasure. He pushed–coaxing your fingers deeper, silently urging you along. More.

Soon the wet sounds of your hand against pink swollen flesh mingled with your moans. Lewd. Dirty. You tried to stay quiet. You really did. But it felt too good, and Aemond’s hand on yours guiding you along had your toes curling. Of course he would help you. Of course he wouldn’t let you do it all on your own. “Aem..!,” you whimpered, hips rocking with your movements. “‘M close.”

“I got you,” he whispered, voice heavy.

As soon as your fingers found that little patch of hidden nerves along your walls, you weren’t able to hold on much longer. The bliss, all at once, became too much. Tension snapped in your belly as colors flashed behind your closed eyelids. Your legs trembled at the tip of your peak, and as you crested downwards Aemond held you tighter against him.

“Vok (perfect),” he said as he watched you. How perfect you were with your silver hair framing your face. How perfect you looked when ecstasy became too much. How fucking perfect your eyes were as they opened and locked on his, bright and glassy with excitement.

You carefully pulled your fingers free and began to turn around to face him. Before you could, however, he held you tighter against him. Confusion furrowed your brow and whatever you were about to say was cut off by his impatience.

“I’m greedy, byka zaldrīzes. Go on, one more time. I know you can do it. Show me again how you peak.”

Without arguing you again settled back against him. You planted your feet along the outside of his legs, spilling your thighs open wider than they were before. You angled your hips to the perfect position and this time a third finger joined your previous two. This time you fucked yourself without shame–not that you held on to it long in the first place.

Aemond all but snarled behind you, absolutely ravenous at the sight of three of your little fingers pumping and curling up into your body. He moved a hand downward, too, and the pads of those fingers worked over your clit in time with your pumps.

“Gods! Aem–!” You quivered against him. The addition of his lascivious attention had your hips squirming. Wanton moans, no longer trying to stay quiet, had your mind blanking. Nothing existed outside of you and Aemond. Nowhere existed outside of the spaces in which your bodies touched. Climax found you faster this time. Your second orgasm had you crumbling against him. Sweat sheened your brow. Your face bloomed. Sated. You were wholly sated.

“Good girl,” he praised. “Such a good girl. Giving me exactly what I wanted,” he kissed you, stealing your lips in a kiss that had you floating all over again. You could have fallen asleep right there in his arms and been the happiest thing in the realm. Breaking away, he added, “now I’ve a promise to make up to you, hm?”

Honestly, you’d forgotten about it. But, now that he mentioned it, your belly did a silly little flop.

With great care, Aemond moved from behind you and stood. Offering a hand to you, he said, “take your clothes off and lay on your back.”

And with that, you both finally shed the last pieces of your clothing.

Laying like he said, you leaned back on your elbows to prop yourself up to still see your brother. Spilled messy hair, tall lean body littered with nicked scars, sapphire eye on full display…hard cock blushed angry red with need. They say Targaryen’s are closer to Gods than men, and with the hearth’s orange light reflecting on his ivory form, you believed him to be a God.

Aemond thought the same about you as you laid there bathed in the moonlight and hearthlight.

“Spread your legs for your lēkia, I want to see you.”

As soon as you did–proudly showing off the slick mess of two climaxes, Aemond pumped along his rigid length. Despite butterflies twirling in your belly, your smile up at him was purely feline.

To Aemond’s credit, his voice only broke slightly when he said, “get on your hands and knees.”

You did. You dipped your spine as low as it could comfortably go, propping your ass up for him. As much as he loved fucking you with your legs wrapped around his waist, you knew he loved this position, too. “Māzigon va, lēkia (come on, brother),” you purred. “Keep to your promise.”

In an instant one of his hands squeezed harshly into the fat of your hip while the other spread the meat of your ass apart. He planted one foot firmly on the bed, and the other stayed rooted on the ground. The position gave him more leverage, and power, and control as he loomed above you. With a flex of his entire abdomen he pushed forward; the hot stretch of your body around him had both of you gasping. “I plan on leaving a babe in your belly tonight, hāedar. That way mother will have no other choice than to wed us,” he groaned, pulling backwards only to snap his hips against the smooth underside of your cheeks once again. And again.

You fisted the sheets as Aemond fucked you. You moaned your delight at his words, nodding. “Yes, please,” you panted. “Faster,” you begged.

His thrusts were precise and brutal. The slap of your smacking skin was utterly depraved and you hated–no, loved–how it made you impossibly wetter. Aemond did too. “Already squeezing around me? Fuck–I’m not going to last much longer,” he said, strained.

You began to push back against him, meeting his thrusts halfway with a frenzied need to make him release. “Fill me. Fill me up, Aem,” you still begged, breathing heavily.

He rutted against you with the same need–a primal haze taking over as his stones began to tighten. His fingers dented firmly into your flesh as he continued plunging in and out of you. Instinct to spill his seed built by the moment and soon he became sloppy. He grunted and growled, and with a final shove–cock buried as deep as it could be inside your walls–he spent against your body’s end. Pulse after mighty pulse emptied his spend into you. Stray strands of hair stuck to a sheen of sweat upon his forehead.

You joined him in peak; left boneless and exhausted after three orgasms. Even at the top of your bliss, and his, he never eased until you were both done.

Aemond pulled his softening length out from you and urged you to fall forward upon his bed. You followed his motion and happily laid there. Naked, glowing, and full. You reached a hand out to pull him to you. “Avy jorrāelan (i love you).”

Aemond easily settled next to you, scooping you into him. “Avy jorrāelan tolī (i love you too),” he said between slow, satisfied kisses.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @targaryen-dynasty @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @schniiipsel

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @rafeism @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @avidreader73 @snh96 @boofy1998 @connorsui

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond fic #aemond request #aemond imagine

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 8 months ago

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Yandere Elite Serial Killer (2)

Part 1

Like frightened deer you scatter

In your opinion, you get pretty far

At one point climbing up high to see where the lights of the small town were

You were making great time

“(Y/n)! Down here!”

The sun was rising and while you were hesitant you did go to meet ‘Piggie’

She seems high-spirited for such a horrible situation

But she shares the berries she’s found that weren’t poisonous

And clues you in on some helpful camping knowledge

So you’re none the wiser when you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head

Waking bleary-eyed to the tight hold of a bloody rope around you

The sun has long since set and all you can gather is that you're tied to a tree

You hesitate to call for the girl only for somebody’s nails to dig into your scalp

It's her and she looks deranged covered in dirt and blood (it doesn’t look like it's hers)

Being sure to throw rocks and kick at you for emphasis she explains how she already knows the major twist of this hunt

They own the town

No help would have been given if you had arrived there

Or even to the airport

So she says she’s going to stand her ground to entrap them the second they come for the bait

And the bait just so happens to be you

When you ask her why it’s because she hates your pity

“At least when they kick me in the dirt they have the decency to know I belong there!”

She sounds demented

But determined

So much so you’re sure if this was a movie she’d be the 'final girl'

But you’re here so that’s not happening

Hearing sticks snap and bushes shake you’re sure they’re on the way

So you shut your eyes in fear

Saying your final prayers as you feel the heat of another person stalking up to you

“How disappointing I expected you to get farther.”

It sounds like something he’d say before lobbing off your head

So you prepare for the oncoming blow

Only to hear a shotgun fire off

‘Piggie’ screams

So you look up to see Wille grinning madly in that direction before turning back to you

He holds your face gently but firmly

Turning your head as he examines you

“She really did a number on you.”

He sighs snapping his fingers

An unknown masked person cuts through the ropes

Holding you on their back and securing the back of your knees

“Take them back to my room and patch them up I’ll gladly delight in my prize once I’ve finished.”

Wille takes off in a giddy sprint as he watches another masked servant drive off in a quad bike with you on the back

Now that the only real stake in this hunt is out he can really let loose

He’s been doing this for a long while

Enticing the masses at whatever new college or preparatory school he could

Providing a plentiful harvest for his family

And it’s great for a while but unfortunately, he just hasn’t found what’s missing

His mother and father have each other and their pets respectively

His brother does as well

And then his sister…well she enjoys just hunting

But he was never like her

He took care of his appearance more, grew his hair long, and wasn’t pretending to be an apathetic prick

Though he could see how easy it was to become that way

He hates how forward people are when they want something from him or his family

He does admire the tenacity of the poor

But among the fellow rich?

Absolutely unforgivable

He can only imagine the terrified faces he stalks being that of those hated elites

And of course, in the midst of a mission to harvest is when he becomes aware of you

It’s not really any one thing you do

You just happen to exist close enough to his latest harvest grounds

It’s not your college but something of a rival school

And all it takes is one mutual and he’s whipped

Suddenly he’s decided that you're the perfect one for him

The prize that’s greater than anything he could buy

To be Continued

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere oc x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere rich oc #yandere elite serial killer #yandere serial killer #yandere serial kiler oc #yandere rich killer #yandere original character #yandere original characters #yandere oc elite serial killer #yandere ocs x reader

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grandline-fics · 2 months ago

Text

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so that's it's own warning if you don't like reading fics featuring him. Soulmate! AU, Enemies to Lovers. Some descriptions of illness and death

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 3,518

A/N: Hope you all like how this chapter turned out. I'm not too keen on it personally, feeling like it wasn't my best but that's just me. We've got more denial as feelings are developing but with Doffy these things take time.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

——————

For the first couple of weeks of taking medication for your illness you spent most of your time sleeping, the rest of the time you were awake long enough to eat the light meals planned for you and very little else. You were exhausted and sluggish, barely able to manage out a few sarcastic comments but even they lacked your usual tone or maintain your focus long enough for it to be considered fun for either you. Doflamingo had expected to see some sort of change by now and in his eyes this lack of results was bordering on unforgivable. As he ate his breakfast his face was like thunder and everyone could feel the heavily brewing storm under the surface.

His grin was gone and the vein against his head throbbed at the slightest sign of annoyance. Even his family and elite members felt at risk of facing the brunt of his anger when he would eventually snap. Doflamingo’s gaze sharpened on the clock and realised he’d spent too long in the dining room. It was already time for the doctor’s to conduct their morning check. Sharply he stood, ignoring how everyone in the room flinched at his sudden movement and left the room, heading straight to your quarters. With every step he took his fingers flexed and cracked, ready to lash out if he didn’t get any sort of satisfactory news.

Throwing open the doors he set his glare heavily on the two doctors who paled and froze at the sight of their leader. Against your propped up pillows you blinked tiredly and followed their stare to watch Doflamingo let the door close behind him. Now that you were regularly taking medication you no longer needed his constant presence to avoid being in pain but you felt constantly drained and your body aching but it was bearable. With a sigh you looked to the doctors. “You two can go.” The doctors quickly looked to you, visibly relieved to be given permission to avoid Doflamingo when he was clearly close to committing murder. They hesitated slightly and you let out an annoyed sigh, forcing yourself to glare at them. “Leave him to me. Go and do what you said you would.”

At your instruction the doctors warily moved towards the door, glancing at Doflamingo with increasing nervousness the closer they got. Doflamingo said and did nothing to stop them and waited until they left and heard their hurried steps echoing down the corridor before he glared at you as you slowly sipped at the herbal tea the servant had left along with your untouched breakfast. “Explain yourself.”

��Morning to you too.” You muttered with another tired sigh. Doflamingo could’t help but notice that your breathing seemed improved, was he imagining that the rattle in your chest had lessened? “I’m not in the mood for guessing. Explain what?”

“A few things. Explain why you’re telling the doctors to leave. Why you’re not eating your breakfast and explain why there isn’t any medication for you to take.”

“I told the doctors to leave so they can go and make a start on the next course of medication and also so you didn’t get a chance to kill them needlessly.”

“Why change the medication?” Doflamingo asked, approaching the bed to stare at you intently. You didn’t seem worse . Were they trying something stronger to get the results he wanted? Or was there something they were withholding from him? Was that why you told them to leave?

“According to them I’m no longer ‘critical’ and now they need to make something less intensive. It’ll continue to fight the infection but it won’t leave me feeling like I’m in a coma all the time.”

“I suppose I can allow that explanation.” Doflamingo muttered, still not happy that his doctors didn’t tell him themselves before fleeing, though with the mood he was in there was a big chance he would have killed one of them before they could have told him everything. Still his mind fell to the one question you hadn’t answered. “And your food? What’s your excuse for not eating?”

“They were fussing over me so much with their tests and checks I didn’t get the chance.” You explained before taking another slow sip of the tea. You eyed the bowl of untouched food and pulled a face. “The sooner I’m recovered the better, the repetition is driving me insane.”

“You’re not really in a position to be picky.” Doflamingo chuckled, perching himself on the edge of your bed. “Strict diet until the doctors say otherwise.”

“Oh so now you want to listen to them?” You asked dryly, watching him get comfortable and start to relax. “They’ve been terrified for the last few days, some wanting to draw straws to see who will be treating me when you’re awake.”

“Fear’s a good motivator in my experience.” Doflamingo shrugged unapologetically and uncaring about the visible panic he brought out in his servants and subordinates. His methods always yielded results, at least most of the time it did. You were the anomaly that he chose not to count.

Out of habit at this point he pulled the tray closer and lifted the bowl into his hand, offering the spoonful of uninteresting purée towards you. Thankfully after that first time you never insisted he say ‘please’ to comply. Today though you regarded him silently for a moment before allowing him to feed you. You ate in silence before finally speaking what was on your mind. “Why doesn’t it bother you? Feeding me?”

“Should it?”

“I know I can’t get you infected but the whole sick person thing seems like something you’d avoid where possible.” You explained. You recalled Doflamingo’s initial declarations that he was ensuring you recovered because he wasn’t letting an illness kill you instead of him but still some things didn’t add up. “In the beginning you could have used your strings to feed me and when I stopped being in constant pain you could have ordered a servant to take over. Doesn’t seem in line with your kingly reputation.”

“Probably not but no one would breathe a word about it so my reputation is safe.” Doflamingo conceded before grinning broadly at you. “Besides who would even believe them I’d do something so kind?”

“That’s them though, this is me asking.” You pressed. “Strangely it feels like you’ve done this before.”

“A little. There wasn’t much food and they didn’t live long after getting ill.” Doflamingo’s answer was low, oddly soft. It was a tone you’d never heard from him before and one you’d really never expected to experience from him. Whoever it was he was talking about, you could tell it was a heavy loss for him to speak of.

You could only guess it was a relative, as much as he claimed those in his inner circle were part of his family, you knew they were a chosen family and not connected to him by sharing the same blood. The man was still very much a mystery to you and as curious as you were, to want to get to know him more would be only a complication down the line. Instead you decided to change the conversation after you took the last spoonful of food. “So strict diet aside, when can I leave this room?”

“Not until you’re better.” Doflamingo’s answer was simple as to be expected but not what you wanted to hear and you didn’t hide your disappointment or annoyance. You had been confined to your room the entire time you were ill and you only got to the bathroom and bathed with the help of a servant because your body was so weak to move. It was a relief that the doctors knew what they were doing because if they hadn’t given you the medication to lessen your pain you would have relied on Doflamingo for that aspect and neither of you were in anyway wanting to broach that level of reliance or intimacy with each other. Needing to sleep in his arms had been more than enough for you both. “Stop pulling that face, can’t risk you managing to hurt yourself and you know it.”

“I’m bored. Y’know for a moment I actually missed Diamanté and Trebol?” You grumbled, narrowing your eyes when Doflamingo began to laugh just as the door opened and the third doctor of the day cautiously entered. You watched as their eyes flickered from you to Doflamingo, nervously trying to assess the mood in the room and prepare for what they expected to happen. They seemed to relax slightly and came closer, your gaze falling to the vial of new medication in his hand. “So what can I expect with this one?”

“You’ll have to take it three times a day. You won’t be as lethargic but it will take a lot of time for your previous energy levels to return. We’re hopeful that after another week we can begin to reduce the treatment again. You’ve been responding so well, it’s a good sign.”

You weren’t exactly in the mood to share their overall optimism. You hadn’t lied when you told Doflamingo that you were bored. You hated being sick at the best of times but to suffer through an infection like this, stuck in your room and only able to sleep or eat, it was irritating and now that you were changing your medication that meant less sleeping and more time just being stuck in your bed. Already you weren’t looking forward to the next few days. With a click of your tongue you took the opened vial offered to you and threw it back in one go, pulling a face at the strange taste. Seeing you take the medicine seemed to release the final thread of tension in Doflamingo’s body and his grin spread into place. As you shifted to get comfy against the pillows you scowled out of the corner of your eye. At least one of you was happy.

————

Doflamingo had allowed his work to pile up while you were ill. Calls from the different corrupt leaders he was supplying weapons to had gone unreturned, shipping manifests from the different warehouses and docks notifying him of his share of profits and resources had piled up and gone unchecked. He was sure there were some Marine calls he’d missed but he couldn’t bring himself to care about whatever it was they wanted. He’d done his part by showing up to their nonsense meeting. Sitting back in his office chair he put down a profit report from one of the many businesses he’d placed an investment in and kicked his feet up onto the desk, feeling his eyes grow heavy under his glasses.

It had been a long time since he’d dreamt of the horrid little shack but he knew it instantly. Looking around at the sound of tiny but devastated sobs he tensed to see his little brother clinging to his younger self in the next room, both aspects of his memory and imagination unaware of his presence. Not that he was even paying them much attention, every part of his attention was solely on the bed in the middle of the room.

As much as he wanted to turn away and leave the sorry excuse of a home, as much as he wanted to force himself to wake, it wasn’t in his power. Instead his heavy limbs brought him into the room and he felt slight relief that his subconscious didn’t show his father in this version. His relief didn’t last long though because already he was at the bedside, staring down at the outline of the body completely hidden by the dirty, frayed sheet. Roughly he grabbed a fistful of the fabric and ripped it away, freezing to see it wasn’t his mother under the covering but you.

With a jolt Doflamingo woke, staring at the ceiling and working on keeping his breathing even and forcing himself to ignore the tremor in his hands. Pushing away from the desk he rose and made his way to your room. For yet another instance since you fell ill he found himself seeking you out in the middle of the night, at least this time he was fully conscious of it. His plan was simple, go in check on you, leave.

Doflamingo opened the door only to stop to see you already sitting up in the bed with your gun pointed at him. When you saw who it was you sighed and put the weapon back into the drawer of your bedside table. At least this helped shake him of the dream he had but now he was more confused than ever about what you were doing. Your fever had broken already so you no longer had any moments of delirium and even when you did, you’d never tried to reach for your weapon. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I’ve slept enough, don’t you think?” You asked staring at him carefully. “What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“Deflecting question for one thing.” You stated with a frown. “You haven’t stayed to help me sleep since the medicine first started taking effect so it can’t be for that. You look tense…your hand’s twitching.”

“You know part of me liked it better when you were too ill to notice things.” Doflamingo muttered, staying close to the wall. “I’m fine, nothing to worry about. Now are you going to tell me about the gun?”

“I thought you were the doctors and I’ve reached my limit of their fussing and increased checks for one day.” You explained in frustration. You weren’t really going to shoot them but you had been so frustrated that the temptation to threaten them had reached the point you’d gotten to. Now that you’d had the moment to reflect on it thanks to Doflamingo’s arrival you let out a sigh. “I know they’re doing their job but enough is enough at least until tomorrow.”

“Any reason for the increased fussing?”

“They claim they’re ensuring the new medication isn’t bringing a risk of unforeseen side effects but the real reason is you. They’re checking for the smallest improvement so you don’t kill them.” You said only to glare when he smirked at that. “Don’t get smug, it doesn’t suit you. So are you staying or going?”

“Oh? If that’s your way of asking nicely you can do better than that.” He teased, grin returning in full force when you let out a huff and rolled your eyes. “You do like to cling to me, it’s adorable.”

“Not as adorable as you oh so sweetly saying ‘please’ Doffy.” Your retort was quick but still not as sharp as you usually could muster. You were glad you could see the results of the treatment but it still hadn’t brought you back to your full strength.

“You’ve been calling me that more often, did you notice?” Doflamingo observed, watching your eyes narrow slightly.

“Because I’ve been too drained to waste energy on your needlessly long name, Doflamingo.” You explained with a sweet smile before deciding that it was time to get back into the old routine of going against him, illness be damned. Pulling back the covers you rose out of bed, still feeling the heaviness in your limbs but you were determined and defiant now. By the time you’d walked the length of the bed Doflamingo was already in front of you, leaning against the bedpost and stopping you from stepping any further. Adopting your most casual expression you looked up at him. “Yes?”

“Get back into bed.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I don’t care what you want.” Doflamingo told you evenly. “Either get back into bed or I’ll put you back.”

“Do it and I’ll get back out. Like I told you earlier, I’m bored and tired of staying in bed.” You ground out in annoyance. “I don’t care where I go I just need to get out of here for a little while. A little bit of walking isn’t going to kill me.”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning with the doctors. Get back in bed.”

“No we won’t because your doctors will be too scared and just go along with whatever you want. I’ll go back to bed when I’m ready.” You argued and stepped around him with your sights set firmly on your door. Even if you got as far as the hall it would have been enough to count as a change of scenery and proof you still had some control over your actions now that you were feeling somewhat better.

“You’re so fucking difficult.” You rolled your eyes at the Warlord’s comment from behind you only for a yelp to break from your lips when you were abruptly lifted off of your feet when you were about to grab the doorhandles and thrown over Doflamingo’s shoulder. “You have five minutes but you aren’t walking, pick where to go.”

“Kitchen.” Your answer came without hesitation. Secretly you were relieved to be lifted, the shake in your limbs becoming hard to ignore but you weren’t going to let the moment of Doflamingo letting you leave the room go to waste. You said nothing as you were carried through the corridors and into the darkened kitchens.

After the lights flicked on you were set on the counter you let out a long satisfied smile, stretching out your arms and legs. Reaching over you lifted the domed lid covering what remained of one of the many cakes and desserts prepared for the family’s dinner that night and pulled it closer. You looked up when Doflamingo stopped beside you, offering a fork for you to take while he used the second in his hand to take a forkful of the cake you’d decided on. Wordlessly you took it and helped yourself to some for yourself, savouring the sweet and rich taste that flooded your mouth. The cooks in the palace were talented and make everything taste amazing. It was thanks to their skills that made being on the limited menu while ill bearable but this? Getting to eat something new again and eat it while you weren’t meant to make it taste even better, like it was something forbidden but so satisfying.

“Happy now?” Doflamingo asked after a few minutes of calm silence, setting his own fork aside and leaving the last few bites of cake for you to help yourself to.

“Yes, actually I am.” You smiled at him, your mood lifting for the first time in a long time. Taking the last bite you let out a content sigh and looked to Doflamingo. “So happy I could dance, but sadly I’m not allowed to walk.”

“Now you’ve got my attention, maybe save the dancing for when you’re fully recovered.” Doflamingo grinned, turning slightly to watch you smirk at him. “Now back to bed.”

“Fine, killjoy.” You grumbled, knowing you’d already had longer than the initial five minutes he’d promised you. Resigned to your fate you held out your arms to let him lift you only to scowl further when he stood in front of you and chuckled, lightly tapping your lower lip with his finger.

“Stop the pouting, you got what you wanted.” He reminded you with a grin, lifting you off the counter and taking you to your room.

When you neared your room you looked at Doflamingo. In spite of being annoyed you weren’t able to be out of your room for long you still appreciated the time you did get out. “Listen…Thank you, I mean it.” You began and thought back to how he’d unexpectedly came to your room that night. Something had been on his mind and given the earlier conversation you had a small inkling what it was. You don’t know why but you wanted to say something to help him. “I know it doesn’t need to be said but, whoever it was you lost. I’m not them.”

“Of course you’re not.” Doflamingo tensed slightly, his stride not breaking even as the image of you lying in place of his mother on her deathbed from his dream came back.

“I’ll get better and then you’ll get right back to finding a way to kill me, right?” You tried to stay casual about everything but the longer you stayed in Dressrosa and around Doflamingo, and now with how he was taking care of you from your infection it got harder to convince yourself that things were going to stay the same as they had when you first crossed paths with the man setting you down onto your bed.

“That’s the plan.” Doflamingo answered and it took everything in you to ignore how his hold on you tightened lightly while he also sounded like he was trying to convince himself of the same thing too. Saying nothing more you watched him turn and leave the room. When the door clicked shut you lay back with a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Why did you have to open your mouth?

——————————————-

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madthetruemad · 1 month ago

Text

fiercely

ex-general!jing yuan x fem!reader

cw ; fantasy!au, blood, death, attempted murder, attempted sexual assault (not with jy & nothing happens so dw), smut, p in v, fingering, grammatical errors, reader referred to with she/her pronouns, abusive boss, y/n does get slapped once (not by jy), etc. (two men break into y/n's home but before they could do anything, she is saved so don't worry).

summary | you work at a bakery owned by a woman you greatly dislike. and every day you hand out meals to the owns less fortunate. and one day, you meet a silver-haired man who comes to your rescue in the dead of night who you then ask to become your guard.

4.5k words, my longest oneshot yet!! im genuinely proud of this one *smug grin as i pat myself on the back* anyway, I hope you enjoy reading!!! 💞

Crouching down on the snow-covered, stone path, you rifled through your basket and gently held out a loaf a bread to a man who wore worn-out and battered armor.

“Sir?”

You called out to him gently, silently praying that he wasn’t dead, but thankfull not even two seconds after you called out to him did his head move. He had an mess of long, silver hair and from beneath it you could see two, bright gold eyes peek at you.

“Thank you…,” his words were quiet as he solemnly took the bread from your hands. You nodded to the man and stood up to which he noticed how the dirt from underneath the snow had dirtied the edges of your dress. He went to apologize for making you crouch for him on his behalf, but you were already gone, moving to the next who was slumped over.

“If you want food from her again, come when the sunsets and is about to disappear.”

The silver haired man looked over to another who had a missing leg and was hobbling towards him with an almost broken stick.

“Does she hand out food often?”

“Every day, morning, noon, and then sunset. Three times without fail.”

The disabled man plopped down next to him, “do you want me to call back to her for you?”

He shook his head, “she already gave me some food.”

“How is she able to afford so much? Is she a noble?”

“Nothing of the sort, boy. She’s a baker.”

“Boy?”

“Anyone younger than me is just a boy.”

He chuckled softly at the man before taking a bite out of the bread.

Meanwhile, you had finished handing out the food you had and started back towards the bakery you worked at was to prepare for the lunch rush that was about to happen. The bakery itself was owned by the woman who had taken you in. She was a mean woman who lived comfortably in a big house with more than enough money to keep her and her family going for over 70 years. Honestly, with how mean and cruel she was, you would work somewhere else, but … you love cooking, and she promised that if you made enough money then you would be able to buy the bakery from her. You, a poor servant girl owning her a bakery someday. It was a dream you were determined to strive for.

Truthfully, you didn’t want to buy the bakery from her, but it was better than building your own and trying to complete with her for customers when you didn’t have nearly as much money or influence as her. So, just trying to buy off an already existing bakery was the best choice for you.

“Feeding those dogs again?”

The moment you opened the door, you immediately winced. Her voice was like sandpaper, rough and unforgiving as she greeted you the moment you walked in.

“They- they aren’t dogs,” you managed to say, but the moment you did her heavy hand was quick to strike against your cheek sending your head snapping to the side and a dark mark to appear across your (color) skin.

“Did you waste perfectly good food on dogs who can’t pay?”

You looked back at her and shook her head, “I paid for it all.”

She scoffed, “keep taking care of the stray mutts and you’ll never have enough for this bakery.”

That… was true. If you couldn’t save money then this place will be just a dream to you, but you couldn’t abandon those people.

With risk of getting hit again, you kept quiet as she grabbed your wrist and pushed you two the kitchen, “lunch rush will be here any minute, girl. The cook is already back there, help him get everything prepped and then get ready to serve customers who actually have money.”

You don’t know how you managed to keep your mouth shut as she shoved you into the kitchen

“Good you’re here, go get me-,” the chef looked at your face and noticed the bruise that started to form causing him to sigh, “you know not to talk back to Matiilda.”

“I know, I know Brason, but she- she talks poorly of those people, it makes me so mad sometimes,” you said as you went to go fetch whatever he wanted. He didn’t say what he needed, but this was routine for you by this point.

You handed him the ingredients he needed and then set off to get the utensils. Outside of the kitchen you could here the tables being prepped by another server who just walked in. Your boss, Matilda, never lent a helping hand, well, not unless she was hitting you or pulling you to go somewhere of course.

“Here you go, need anything else?”

Brason shook his head and shooed you away, “go help the other waitress out there, and try not to get Matilda’s bedside again. If you keep doing so, she’ll change the deal she has with you about this place.”

You nodded, “I- I understand.”

“Also, be glad Matilda didn’t notice the mud clinging to the bottom of your skirts. You know how she feels about that.”

You nodded again before heading out of the kitchen. The rest of the day goes by without a hitch with the exception of a few men catcalling you and another grabbing at your thigh. You were able to shake them off, but with some trouble.

“And that should be enough!”

Brason looked at all the food you had paid for. All of it slowly being put into a small cart you had invested in.

“You taking that to the-“

“Yes, I am,” you said cutting him off, “thank you for cooking my order, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Brason nodded as he went to clean up the kitchen and lock up for the night as you pushed the cart out of the bakery. Your hands steady as you went to the poor district.

Many had greeted you warmly as you started to pass out food and others would silently thank you. You would do your best to nod and smile despite the throbbing pain in your cheek. And then, you finally came to the silver-haired man from before, but this time he was talking with someone you recognized.

“Miss l/n,” Charles greeted. He was nice man who fought in a war this country had, and sadly he had lost one of his legs during it. You were always sure he got something to eat.

“Good evening Charles,” you said as you squatted down to hand him his food, “how are you feeling?”

“Better than yesterday.”

You nodded as you stood up to get another, and moved to squat down in front of the silver-haired man, “for you.”

This time you didn’t have to call out to him. He was fully awake and ready for you, but what you were surprised about was his clear focus on you as he accepted the food you offered him. Most people here never had such clear focus, their eyes usually dulled and never as bright as his were.

“Thank you and uhh Miss l/n was it? That mark on your cheek. It wasn’t there this afternoon.”

“O- oh, this? Yes, I am a bit clumsy and accidentally … fell into a door! Yes! That’s it! The door handle bruised my face when I fell down!”

Charles huffed beside the man, “a terrible liar as always… the woman she works for, Matilda, hates how she hands food out to us, so every once and a while she likes to take her frustrations out on the poor girl.”

“Charles…”

The man huffed again, “don’t try to deny it, that woman is wicked and I won’t let you hide her abusiveness towards you to make us feel like the world could do no wrong.”

“I understand Charles,” you went to stand up, “anyway, I better hand out the rest, I’ll see you all in the morning.”

You gave them a small wave as you went back to your cart to finish handing out the rest, and when you were finally done you went to push your cart towards the direction of your home. It was a little outside the city in a small little cottage, but to you it was home.

Once you got to your home, you happily opened the door, pushed the cart inside and stored it off to the side before rushing to throw yourself in bed. You needed a bath, but for now you wanted to press your face into your pillows. Though, a part of you did remember how snow still clung to your boots you didn’t take off and the mud that still painted the edges of your skirts to your dress.

Guess you’ll be washing your sheets tomorrow too…, but you decided to ignore all of that for now as you closed your eyes, sleep being all too tempting as you felt yourself start to drift off.

No dreams inflicted you this time, but you were quick to startle awake when you heard something break and slam open. You had shot up in your bed quickly. Eyes wide and alright as they tried to adjust in the dark.

And it was as clear as day when a new sound started to echo within the house.

Footsteps…

C R EA K C REA K C R E A K

You could hear how your floorboards ached under the weight of someone walking towards your room causing you to jump out of your bed and run for your window, but when you got to it and started to fiddle with the latch to get it to open, a rock crashed right through it barely missing you as you let out a scream and stumbled backwards.

“Hey! You didn’t hit her in the head with that rock did you,” a man called out from your hallway as he entered your bedroom.

Another had forcefully knocked out the rest of the glass in your window before climbing in himself, “she’s fine, just spooked her was all.”

You ran to your bed, though you knew that the blanket you used as a shield will do little for you.

“This is the girl Matilda told us about, yeah?”

…Matilda…?

“What, what does she have to do with this,” you managed to ask. The man chuckled softly at your meek sounding question, “bingo. Looks like it is her.”

He moved to come towards you causing you to yell at him, “answer my question!”

You were trying to stall for time, trying to find a way out, trying to survive-

One of them laughed loud at this, “don’t worry, she didn’t hire us to kill you, she just wants us to teach you a little lesson about stray dogs.”

You could feel yourself start to shake as he undid his pant’s belt buckled the other taking off his own shirt.

“Stay- stay away from me!”

The slimmer man of the two (the one who climbed through the window) grabbed the blanket you were holding and ripped it from your grasp before grabbing your arms.

“No, no, no, no! Get off- get off of me! Someone- anyone Help me, please help me!”

You screamed at the top of your lungs as the bigger man grabbed your legs and forced them open while bunching your skirts above your waist despite your efforts at trying to kick him in the balls.

“Please save me!”

As the two were struggling to get your clothes off, you saw a shadow of another in the doorway making you cry harder. She sent three of them?!

Though, instead of coming to assist the two men like you had thought, the shadow moved too fast for your eyes to see, but you could see the glint of a blade in the moonlight that escaped into your room, and you watched as the blade arced and slashed sideways.

Your breath caught in your throat as a spray of blood spurted from the bigger man’s neck. His head instantly detaching and falling into your lap. The shirtless man cussed and let go of your arms, but before he could grab anything to defend himself with the sword had ran right through him, straight through the heart. Blood was quick to fill his mouth and pour from his lips like a waterfall as he fell forward into the blade. Though before his dead body could even touch the shadow, the shadow had removed his sword from his chest and moved aside for the body to fall face first into the floor.

Then the shadow turned to you making you crawl backwards into the bed.

“Please, don’t be scared, miss l/n.”

That voice… it belongs to the silver-haired man!

The shadow stepped into the moonlight that cascaded into your room, and you could clearly see his face now since he had tied up his long silver hair back. His golden eyes trying to hold a comforting look in them.

“How… how did you know-“

“I saw those two following you… I- I am usually a good judge of character, and I, well, I hoped I was wrong, but…,” his voice trailed off as he walked up to you. You froze in place when he reached for you, but instead of grabbing you, he had gently grabbed a hold of the bottom of your skirts that were bunched up at your waist and gently tugged them down to your ankles so that you were once again fully covered.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner,” he said as he stepped back and went to retrieve your blanket from the floor and handed that to you as well.

You shook your head as you gratefully took the blanket from him, “n- no, I- you- you saved me, so thank you.”

His smile was gentle before his gaze fell to the bodies, “I will take care of them.”

“What should I do?”

“Rest there, I’ll be back, I promise.”

To show you that he will return, he rested his sword against a wall and then lifted both bodies and the head as if they had weighed nothing and left your room in a hurry.

You weren’t sure how long he was gone, but it felt like hours before you heard your front door open and your breath to hitch.

By this point, you had lit a lamp next to your bedside and even cleaned up most of the blood that had gotten on your floor. Your eyes were now focused on the entrance to your bedroom, and you could feel yourself let out a sigh of relief when you saw the silver-haired man walk through your door.

The man looked around before nodding and heading to get his sword, “well I-“

“Please don’t go!”

You called out to him when his back turned. You didn’t know what to say when he looked back at you, but you came up with something quick.

“I didn’t get your name.”

He smiled at you, “it’s Jing Yuan.”

“Jing Yuan,” you tested out the name on your tongue. It was foreign, but you liked the sound of it when it left your lips.

“And you, miss l/n?”

You realized that he didn’t know your first name, so you gave it to him.

“Y/n L/n,” he mimicked you by testing out your name on his lips.

“Jing Yuan?”

“Yes?”

“Would you … like to be my guard? You can sleep in the extra room here and I can pay you too!”

“You want me to be your guard?”

You nodded, “just in case Matilda does something like this again… I’ll- I’ll feed you too! And even get you new clothes, or- or buy you as many weapons as you want.”

He gently quieted, a small chuckle leaving his lips, “I have no need for your money, but… a place to stay, some food, and some new clothes won’t hurt.”

“Then you mean?”

He nodded as he fully turned towards you, “I’ll be your guard from now on.”

And true to his word, Jing Yuan was your guard and he guarded you fiercely. And now that you both were living together, you got to know a lot about him like how he was a general in a foreign land, but was exiled due to corruption within his people’s government which explained why he had no belongings or money on him. As for you, he learned how Matilda took you I as a servant and how poorly she treated you. He also learned of your determination to get the bakery for yourself one day and promised to help you get it.

And, of course, with living together came other things too…

“I- I’m so sorry,” you all but screamed as you slammed the door to the bathroom shut.

You could hear his laughter from inside causing a rush of embarrassment rush through you.

You both had been living together for two years now. And Matilda has sent men after you a total of twelve times now, but Jing Yuan was always there to protect you.

Despite all of this, however, you never saw him naked… granted, he only had his shirt off, but it was still embarrassing especially since you gained a crush on the man.

He was overly sweet with you, he taught you things and was ever so kind to you and only ever asked for food and new clothes when it comes to protecting you. Not to mention that he was hot, it was only a matter of time before you fell for him.

“You know,” he started as he leaned against your bedroom door, “there is nothing shameless about seeing me without a shirt.”

“I just don’t want to intrude on your privacy- YUAN,” you all but screamed his name when you turned around to confront him, but this time he was only in a bath towel that hung around his waist, and all too visibly, you could see the outline of his-

You shook your head and turned back around, “how dare you tease me! You’re so mean!”

“Am not.”

You could tell how his voice sounded closer than before which was another thing you had learned about him while living together. He walked without a sound.

“Yuan-,” your breath hitched when you felt his chest press against your back, his heat radiating off of him in waves.

“Tell me to get out of your room,” his voice was soft as he spoke to you, “tell me to never act this way with you again.”

You felt his arms wrap around your waist, “tell me no.”

You turned within his hold, you could feel how your face just felt absolutely on fire, but… you’ve been selfishly pining for this man for two years now. The two of you having living together and nothing happening besides the occasional cuddle session on the couch or a comforting hug to get through the day.

“I want this,” you managed to say looking up at him, “I want you.”

He pulled you closed, your breasts pressing against his muscled chest, “are you sure? Because if we do this… I’m never letting you go.”

“Then hold onto me fiercely.”

He smiled when he bent down to seal your lips together. His arms shifting so that his hands could grab a hold of your hips and press his hardening bulge against you.

“Then I’ll love you just as fiercely too.”

He gently pushed you back towards your bed, and when the backs of your knees hit the edge you fell backwards, and he was quick to follow after you. His body caging you in as he pressed his body weight down on you. Your hands went to grab a hold of him. Your fingers pressing into his shoulders as you held onto him.

He detached his lips from your own for a mere moment as he let go of your hips to get your dress off. His fingers worked on your tied strings and buttons before cursing, “apologies sweet girl.”

“What- Yuan!”

You watched as he easily ripped your dress open just to look at your nude form.

“No panties?”

You huffed and looked away from him, “it gets freaking hot in here since it’s summer and all-“

He laughed lightly as his eyes roamed your nude figure. And almost curiously he let his fingers trail up your thigh before going in between your legs, and cautiously he let his fingers run along your folds causing a small sound to escape your lips. The sound made him grin as continued to lightly play with your cunt as he leaned back down to capture your lips again. And all too easily he got you to play to his tune.

“Yu- Yuan,” you sung his name with the softest of voices.

“Has anyone seen you like this? Touched you like this?”

You shook your head as he slowly pushed a finger into you fluttering hole. Your walls immediately clenched around his digit as you shifted your hips up, “mmm- ah! Feels weird putting your finger in there, Yuan!”

He pressed soft kisses onto your neck in response as he slowly began to pump his finger in and out of you, the way his finger grazed your inner walls had you keening and a loud moan broke through your lips the moment he added a second.

“Just like that, love,” he said as he watched you buck your hips into the palm of his hand. His eyes all but mesmerized at the way your hole clenched around his fingers, and when he felt that strong tightening around his digits, he pulled them out. Your whine for him to put them back in causing him to laugh lightly, “relax, we’re not done yet.”

You looked at him through half-lidded eyes as he let his bath towel fall. How he managed to keep that wrapped his hips was impressive, but you decided to ask about it later when your eyes landed on his cock.

“Can you spread your legs for me, sweet girl?”

You liked how he asked you, you liked how sweet he was with you, you liked his gentleness. Which was how you found yourself opening up your legs for him, and when you felt his leaking tip press and slide against your folds, he caught your eyes.

“We can always stop.”

You shook your head, “I want to keep going. Please, Yuan.”

He smiled down at you before leaning in close. His arms coming up to rest on either side of your head on his elbows so he wouldn’t squish you or hurt you, and truthfully the closeness now was much better since his lips were in kissing distance.

“Hit me, push me away, hell even hit me with that oil lamp if you want me off of you, alright?”

“I will, but that won’t happen.”

“It’s just a precaution, love.”

You shut him up by capturing his lips, and he took that as a chance to push the tip of his cock into your cunt. Your walls seized around him the moment he was halfway in and he knew what was happening when you clamped down unexpectantly when he had pushed all the way in.

You gasped and moaned into his mouth when you came around his cock. Your hips bucking hard up into him as he clenched his teeth and started to slowly thrust into you, working you through your orgasm.

“I- I didn’t expect you to do that,” Jing Yuan all but gasped as your cunt gripped him like a vice, “s- shit.”

He stuttered and gasped like a virgin as your pussy clung to his hard cock. His moans were just as loud as yours as he stroked your insides hard and fast. Feeling you like this, he knew he wouldn’t last not while you started to meet his thrusts with your hips.

The tip of his cock reached far in you, it hitting all the right spots as he angled himself to hit your cervix, “you- I’m not going to last,” he said as you wrapped your legs around his hips, “you need to put your legs down.”

You shook your head as you caught hip lips again, “inside,” you managed to moan out, “cum inside me,” you said against his lips. He all but growled against your lips as he pushed his weight down on you. His thrusts becoming harder and more eractic as he chased his high and yours. And just as you came again, he finally released hot, white spurts of come into you. His cum was hot as it soaked your insides as you coated his cock with your own arousal. And when he stopped to catch his breath, you expected him to pull out, but instead he shoved his cock in deep to plug up your hole. The action made you gasp as you felt his tip hit your cervix.

“You wanted my cum, so it stays right where you wanted it.”

You hugged him closer to yourself, your bodies molding together like a imperfect puzzle.

He protected you fiercely and loved just as much.

“You… you better get me a new dress.”

“I’ll get you a thousand dresses,” he says as he pulls away a bit and reaches for your nightstand. Sitting up, you gave him a confused expression as he pulled out two boxes and handed them to you. Before you could open them though, he had rolled over taking you with him so that you were sitting on his cock and straddling his lap. The new angle made you wriggle in his hold.

“Open them,” his voice echoed softly as he grabbed you by the hips and just as you were about to open the first one, he lifted your hips and slammed you back down his length. A moan ripped through your lips as he grinned up at you.

“Focus, love, don’t you want to see what I got you?”

You wondered how he got the gifts into your drawer without you noticing but couldn’t ask with how his cock was splitting you. So, with any focus that you could muster, you went back to opening the gifts despite the way he had you bouncing on his dick.

“A- A ring?”

“Mmm,” he hummed nodding, “a wedding ring…, if you’ll have me.”

Your lips trembled, you would of cried if you weren’t being fucked onto his cock.

“Though, with the way your cunt is hugging my dick, I guess that’ll be a yes.”

You nodded unable to form words as you shakily put the ring on your finger and carefully you started to open the other one.

“A- a key?”

“It’s-“ his voice got cut off when you came around him again, your third orgasm being as unpredictable as the first, “a key to the bakery. I bought it for you,” his voice was shaky as he filled you up again.

"Yu- Yuan!”

You all but cried out for him when you flung yourself down onto him, your arms wrapping around his neck so you could hold him still and kiss him hard.

He planned to hold onto you forever, even if it meant destroying all who opposed you. But meh, Matilda had what was coming to her anyway.

“I love you.”

“And I’ll love you just as fiercely.”

#hsr #honkai star rail #jing yuan #hsr jing yuan #hsr smut #jing yuan smut #jing yuan hsr #fantasy au #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader smut #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan x female reader

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