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speaknow-sw · 2 months ago

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«𝓢𝓾𝓰𝓪𝓻, 𝓘 𝓮𝓷𝓳𝓸𝔂 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮»

Summary : When you question Don’s abilities to loosen himself a bit, he decide to show you how precisely he meant when he said he’s enjoying life.

Word Count : 2.9k

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ: mdni, age gap (Don is 38, Reader 20), pastor kink, God complex, pussy eating, nipple playing, vaginal fingering, PiV, rough sex, daddy kink if you squint, mustache kink, seashell position, degradation if you squint, huge breeding kink, mention of sequestration, faith kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, pet names, dumbification, choking, orgasm denying, cockwarming.

AN : this is the nastiest piece of shit I’ve ever written and the main idea comes from the lovely @mathesonlvr who I share my passion for Don mustache with. (I think). Anyway that’s like hella dirty so enjoy !

The large, old house stood as a symbol of everything he believed in—solid, immovable, a structure built on faith and discipline. Pastor Don Piper, a man well into his thirties, was known for his devotion to the church and his deep convictions. Every sermon he delivered was woven with scripture and firm, unyielding guidance. And then, there was you—his much younger wife, with a heart full of kindness but a spirit still uncertain of the boundaries that came with marriage to a man like him.

Don sat at his desk, reading scripture with the same unwavering focus he gave to all things. His life was built around discipline, faith, and order—he had lived every moment according to the rules of his belief, and it had brought him peace. But now, sitting in the silence, there was a tension he couldn’t quite name. It came from you, his much younger wife. You had been married to him for only a year, and while your sweetness and enthusiasm had drawn him to you, there were times when your innocence, your naivety, seemed to test the very boundaries of his patience.

You were in the other room, humming softly to yourself as you tidied up the living room. He could hear the occasional clatter as you absentmindedly dropped a vase or bumped into a piece of furniture. It was something you did often—your clumsiness was just another piece of the puzzle he had come to accept about you. But tonight, after a long day of counseling and sermons, the sound grated on his nerves more than usual. "Careful with that," he called out, trying to keep his voice calm but feeling the edge creeping in. "Oh! Sorry!" you replied, your voice light and airy, as if nothing in the world could ever bother you. It was part of what he loved about you—your innocence. But that same innocence sometimes left him feeling like you didn’t truly grasp the gravity of the life you had stepped into.

A few moments later, you appeared in the doorway, smiling brightly, holding a plate of cookies you had made earlier. "I thought you might want something sweet while you work." He glanced up from his Bible, taking in your wide-eyed expression, your gentle smile. There was no malice in you, no understanding of the inner conflict that simmered beneath his composed surface. "Thank you," he said, trying to soften his tone. He reached for a cookie, but the tension in his chest didn’t ease. You set the plate down on his desk, hovering awkwardly beside him. "You’ve been working a lot lately," you said, your voice filled with concern. "I worry that maybe you're too hard on yourself. You always seem so… serious."

He paused, looking up at you fully now. Serious. It was a word you often used to describe him, but he couldn’t understand why you found it strange. "My work is serious," he said slowly, carefully choosing his words. "The church, faith… these are not things to take lightly." You nodded quickly, but the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your blouse told him you didn’t entirely understand. "I know," you said, "but I thought maybe… sometimes it’s okay to not think so much about all the rules. To just… you know, enjoy life a little." He stiffened at that, the tension rising. This wasn’t the first time you had said something like this, and each time it struck a nerve deep within him. He had spent his life devoted to his faith, to guiding others on the path of righteousness. And here you were, with your innocent and almost childlike outlook, suggesting that perhaps it wasn’t all that important.

This innocent and naive look sent him into arousal right away. How should he took you ? On the desk, soft and sweet or in the bed, your beautiful and supple body laid bare for him as you whimper breathlessly under him. Oh, how he wanted to see your belly swell with his love for you. His pretty little housewife round with child. Your naive nature would be perfect to keep you locked in the house, nursing child after child. Looking pretty at his arms was your only duty right now but he could promote you to being the pretty mother of his children. His mind went wild and he imagined what it would be like. « Donnie ? » You squealed innocently seeing him dozing off. Don's eyes snapped open, a brief flash of panic crossing his features before he saw it was you, his beautiful, innocent wife. He smiled then, the tension from earlier dissipating as he looked at you, his heart swelling with love and desire. "Yes, love?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble.

You walked closer to him, your hair cascading over your shoulders as you stood beside his desk. "It's late, shouldn't we go to bed?" He nodded, his hands moving to the back of your neck, his fingers tracing the curve of your jawline. "Yes, my love. Let's go to bed." As you walked with him, your hand resting in his, he couldn't help but imagine the delightful sin he'd commit with you tonight. As you climbed into bed, he followed, his eyes never leaving your body. He watched the way your nightgown hugged your curves, the way your full breasts peeked out from the top.

He pushed you gently onto the bed, his hands skimming over your body, teasing your nipples through the thin fabric. "Sugar," he whispered, his voice thick and low, "I’m going to take your advice to enjoy life." You bit your lip, your eyes wide and innocent. "Really, Don?" He smiled, his lips brushing against your ear. "Yes, my precious little lamb. Tonight, I'm going to show you that I really enjoy you." And with that, he began to unbutton your nightgown, revealing your soft, supple skin.

His fingers traced over your body, making you shiver in anticipation. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck. "Tonight, you're going to feel the glory of God," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin, "through me." His hands moved lower, sliding under your panties, his fingers finding your wetness. You gasped, your body arching into his touch. "Donnie," you moaned, your voice a sweet, innocent plea. He chuckled softly, his voice full of adoration, "Just wait, darling. Just wait."

You whimpered « Don… please… » Your nails dig in his shoulders as you threw your head backwards. Suddenly Don's fingers danced over your aching clit, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. He watched you, the sight of your sweet, innocent face filled with pleasure driving him wild. "Do you like that, sugar ?" he purred, his voice low and seductive. Your hips bucked against his hand, your back arching as you cried out, "Yes, please…"

He smirked, his fingers delving deeper, finding the sensitive spot that made you gasp and moan. "You're such a good girl, aren't you?" he cooed, his voice a soft rumble against your skin. "Such a sweet, innocent thing." Your body quivered, the pleasure building within you, threatening to spill over. "Don…" you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders, leaving tiny crescents of red. He grinned, his fingers slowing as he felt you on the brink. "Not yet, my love," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "Not until I'm buried deep inside you." Suddenly he leaned down between your thighs. You whimpered just from the sight. « Don …what are you doin—… » You moaned loudly when his lips kissed your cunt.

Don's lips brushed against your swollen folds, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. He inhaled deeply, his senses flooding with your scent—sweet and pure, like you. He flicked his tongue against your clit, making you buck and moan. "Daddy," you breathed, your body trembling.

He chuckled against your flesh, his tongue dancing and teasing, making you squirm beneath him. "Such a naughty little thing," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "But I bet you'd be even naughtier if you were mine completely." The thought sent shivers down your spine, your body quivering as you felt the edge of your climax growing nearer. You couldn't help but whimper, your hips thrusting up to meet his mouth.

« Don…please…your mustache is scratching so good » You whimpered loudly. Don grinned, his mustache brushing against your sensitive skin as he continued his assault on your body. "Is that so, my love?" he purred, the sound low and deep. "I must remember that." He increased the pressure of his lips and tongue, his fingers still teasing your wetness. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure mounted. "Donnie…" He smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "Do you want to cum for me, sweet girl ?" he asked, his voice a low, husky rumble. "Do you want to feel the love of God through me?"

Your body shook, the words sending you hurtling over the edge. "Yes, unh," you cried out, your orgasm washing over you in waves, your body shuddering and trembling. He continued to tease you, his tongue flicking against your clit as you came down from your climax. When you were finally still, he pulled back, his lips trailing kisses along your inner thigh. "Now," he said, cooing, "let's go to Heaven." He positioned himself between your legs, his thick, uncut cock pressing against your wet entrance. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with love and desire. "Are you ready, sweetheart ?" he asked, his voice a deep, seductive rumble. Your body tingled with anticipation, the thought of having him inside you making you tremble. "Donnie," you breathed, your voice soft and sweet. "Please, I'm ready."

You looked at him through half-lidded eyes, his mustache dripping from your cum, pearls of it coating the once silky hair. Don's stared down at you for a moment, his eyes filled with desire, before he pushed into you slowly. The sensation of his thick shaft filling you caused you to gasp, your eyes widening as you adjusted to the feeling. "Oh, God," you whispered, your voice a soft, sweet moan. He paused, his hands gripping your hips as he looked into your eyes. "I'm going to take you to Heaven, little lamb," he growled, his voice low and full of promise. "And I'm not going to let you come down for a very long time." The words echoed in your mind as your body responded to his, the pleasure building within you, threatening to consume you. All you could do was cling to him, your body arching, your nails digging into his shoulders as you cried out his name.

Soon enough you were reduced to a babbling mess who couldn’t form a word as he pounded into you, his heavy sack slapping against your ass. Don took your desire as a challenge, his hips thrusting into you with a force that left you breathless. His hand slid down your body, his fingers digging into your hip as he pulled you closer, his thrusts growing more and more brutal. "Take it, you little slut," he growled, his voice a low, rumbling purr. "Take it from your husband, your God." He felt your body trembling beneath him, the wet sound of his cock slapping against your ass a symphony to his ears. Without warning, his hand left your hip, snaking around your throat, his fingers tightening as he fucked you harder.

« Uh, uh, uh » You couldn’t talk, you couldn’t breathe… you couldn’t even think as Don fucked you dumb. His left hand squeezed your throat and some of his thick right digits flickered on your clit making you moan loudly. Don's fingers worked your clit with precise, lewd motions, causing your body to shudder and buck under the dual onslaught. "Such a good, dirty little girl," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. "You love it, don't you?" Your body responded without the need for words, your moans filling the room as you clung to him, the pleasure building within you. "Do you want to cum for me again, sugar ?" he asked, his voice a deep, rumbling purr. "Do you want to feel your God's thick cock pumping inside you as you explode?" Your moans grew louder, your body shaking as you felt the edge of another climax drawing near. "Ungh, ungh…" you whimpered, your voice a sweet, innocent whine.

Don's thrusts grew rougher, more primal as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're mine, you know that, little lamb?" he growled, his voice thick with lust. "You're going to feel this cock, this seed, this miracle, pumping into you again and again." His fingers worked your clit with a frenzied intensity, his other hand tightening around your throat as he fucked you, driving you closer to the edge. "I'm going to fill you up, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to impregnate you, make you full and round with my babies, over and over." His eyes looked crazy, like a wild animal under attack.

Don's thrusts grew wilder, his face contorting with the pleasure of claiming his wife, his sweet, innocent little lamb. "You're going to be my personal breeding machine," he growled in a guttural moan. "You’re my wife, my church, my everything." His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, his other hand squeezing your throat, his cock pumping into you with a fervor that bordered on animalistic. "You're going to be nothing but a vessel for my seed, a temple for my cock," he said, his voice a grinding, lewd purr. "And I'm going to use you, over and over, until you're nothing but a broken, satisfied, and pregnant shell."

You drooled, your head falling backwards as you let out raw screams of pleasure. Tears flowed down your cheeks. Don's thrusts grew even more brutal, the rhythm of his cock slamming into your tight, perfect pussy echoing through the room. You could feel the shadows of his manhood disappearing deep within your core, the connection between your bodies visceral and primal. With a grunt, he took your legs, hooking your ankles around his neck, nearly folding you in two as he took control. "Such a tight little pussy," he growled, his voice thick with lust. The sight of you drooling, crying, and whimpering, your body trembling beneath him, sent a surge of carnal pleasure coursing through him. "Makes me think that maybe I married you just for her," he whispered, his voice a low, guttural rumble. "A tiny, young cunt to snuggle my cock perfectly while I decompress."

He pressed into you, his hands gripping your hips, his thrusts fierce and unrelenting. "You're my little plaything, my doll," he breathed, his voice a mix of dirty possessiveness and love. "You're my wife, my bitch, my love." Don's hips continued to thrust, his grip on your legs tight as he folded you into an obscene position. The sight of his thick cock disappearing deep into your body, the outlines of it, showing on your stomach, elicited a groan from his lips.

The sight of your pleasure, the way you drooled and screamed, drove Don wild, his hips slamming into you with a brutal force. "That's it, sweet girl," he groaned, the primal need to claim you, to bury himself in your body, overwhelming. "Daddy wants you to come." He felt your body tense beneath him, your screams growing louder as you reached the peak of your climax. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pounded into you, your body tensing, the edge of your climax drawing near. And as your release crashed over you, you cried out his name, your body convulsing around his cock. "Yes," he roared, his own release surging through him, his cock throbbing inside you. "Cum for me, my love, cum for your God."

Don felt your body tighten around him, your walls milking his cock as he let out a guttural groan. "Lord, darling," he breathed, his own release surging through him, his cock throbbing inside you. "Such a good little cunt for your husband." He collapsed onto you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his breathing ragged as he came down from his high. The sounds of your pleasure, the feel of your body still quivering beneath him, left him feeling both satiated and insatiable. His fingers slowly released their hold on your hips, his cock still buried deep inside you. "We're in Heaven, my love," he whispered, his voice thick with love and desire. "Let's stay here for a while, don’t move. » He kissed your cheek with his wet mustache as you laid, broken, on the folded position he put you through it all.

« Gotta make sure it takes… » He patted gently your belly and his hand caressed the swell of your breasts, occasionally playing with a nipple. You whimpered helplessly from your position, feeling his thick cock in your guts every single time he moved. Finally he pulled away and a big pool of sperm squirted out of you in the most obscene way Don ever saw. He patted your left butt cheek. « You did good, baby. » He cooed softly and pushed back the cum in your fluttering hole. You whined from exhaustion « Donnie ? » You called meekly. « I’m right there, sweetheart » He said reassuringly kissing your forehead.

Nine months later, Don introduced your child to his community with a big smile, pride in you fluttering in his chest for giving him a little miracle.

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #james kelly #sam monroe #scott barringer #stephen glass #evie writes #clay beresford #don piper

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tteokdoroki · 2 years ago

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somno w/ nagi 😞😞💔 he’s so spent and exhausted after the longest day of practice, but his body betrays itself as soon as you press back against his tall frame. he ruts into you, breathy in your ear and hard in his boxers, and it doesn’t take him long at all, not when you feel so warm and inviting and soft. but it’s alright, he can be motivated by the right things after all — and best believe the way you whimper for him so sweetly does it for him. fully awake now, he will make sure to take proper care of you, just like you always do to him, even when half asleep still :(

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— late night lovin' + seishiro nagi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — nagi loves the way you look in his bed late night after practice. but he loves the way you crave him in your sleep even more.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, heavy smut, established relationship, somnophilia, dry humping, cockwarming, creampies, unprotected!sex, soft dom + pro player!nagi not beta read ! - fem!reader.

⭑ words — 2.5K.

⭑ notes — thank u for indulging my brain rot, truly love him sm !! also first time writng him pls be kind and im sorry this took so long shbs! - m.list✩

seishiro nagi hates when practice runs late.

exhaustion settles into his bones far too quick for his liking, listening to feedback from ego and the others feels like a bore and he can hardly feel bothered to grab something to eat with the team on the way home. he just about manages to shower at the stadium before making it back and by the time he does— you’re there, in his bed like he wants you to be.

seishiro nagi loves to see you sprawled across his sheets after practice.

he’d given you a key to his place after deciding it was too much of a hassle for you to drive over after his training or for him to come pick you up — it was easier if you could make yourself at home. nagi forgoes turning on the lights as he enters the master bedroom, dropping his duffle bag at the entryway after noticing that you’d fallen asleep. probably while you were waiting for him.

you’re so pretty like this, peaceful, curled up amongst seishiro’s expensive cotton linens and duvet. adorable, wearing one of his older team jerseys – the tops of your perfect pudgy thighs just peeking out from under its material.

slipping into bed behind you is easy for seishiro nagi.

the white-haired striker strips off his gear layer by layer and crawls under the blankets to join you, his bare chest snug against your back and an arm slung over your waist lazily.

your response to his closeness is almost instantaneous, pressing yourself back against nagi and finding comfort in his presence behind you despite not being able to see him in the dark. “sei—“ you whimper, soft and needy, the tendrils of sleep still clinging onto you. so cute. nagi thinks you’re so fucking cute. searching for his warmth like this. even while you rest.

you like how he smells, he remembers. that’s why you lean into him like he’s a safety net. why he showers using a body wash with a scent so delicate it could almost be fabric softener and why you wear his clothes whenever you have the chance. the smell of cedarwood and seishiro nagi is comforting to you, especially when he’s away.

not that he minds, not that it necessarily bothers the striker. he likes it, loves to see you bare the very symbol of his passion. the one thing he loves aside from you – soccer.

you visibly relax when he wraps another strong arm around your shoulders and squeezes you close, making you feel small and safe. your pout loses itself in the sleepy babbles that lay on on your lips and crease between your brows fades too.

“sei…?”

“shhh, angel. s’just me,” nagi coos quietly, tucking his face into the back of your neck with his lashes fluttering against it. he just wants to sleep, fall away from the world with you but his body betrays him, annoyingly so. you’re too soft, too warm, to precious for nagi to resist and it’s a little bothersome that he can’t help it.

he’s hard before he even knows it, the heavy outline of his dick pressed against your pert ass– your body pulsing to life back into your boyfriend’s grip to get comfortable once more. he’s exhausted too but maybe it would help to fall asleep like this– if he wore himself down by grinding into you, dragging his hips back and forth, slow and steady so his erection slides through your cheeks from behind.

seishiro’s breathing gets a little heavier, hot and ragged against your bare skin, his grip on you tighter and his cock weighty and wet behind the fabric of his boxers. over the blood pumping through his ears, as full of adrenaline as it would be on the pitch, he hears you whimper out for him – a sound so sweet that he can’t ignore it.

you’ve always had some kind of hold over nagi, one that he can’t ignore. one that pushes him past his limits. the right thing is always able to motivate him, and the way you mewl out for him in your sleep, your body following his lead in a soft, sensual bump and grind is exactly the kind of thing that drives him forward.

you make things a little easier for him, you always do, stretching a leg forward so nagi has better access to the treasure between your thighs. his reward for working so hard today. “ngh…s-sei…” you mumble again, back arching into his chest on its own accord when he pulls his chubby cock out, smearing his arousal along your backside and right over the crotch of your panties.

“keep quiet pretty girl,” the white haired player whispers, as if there’s anyone around to hear you both. maye its that selfishness that’s been instilled in him, the ego, per say but he wants to keep you to himself. “i’ll take care of it from here, ‘kay?”

every ounce of you, every sound you make, every twitch and shift of your body to keep up with his. it’s his to keep. you’re his to keep.

and seishiro nagi loves that.

“uh-huh,” you’re awake now but just barely, parting your thighs to make room for your boyfriend while he grinds into the heat of your core with the same energy you’d expect from a dog in rut. “y’so big sei…” you gasp like you’ve taken a bullet to the heart when nagi’s seedy tip brushes so deliciously against your clothes and swollen clit – his movements precise yet lax, his breath behind you hot, ragged yet soft as it coasts over your skin.

“mm, you can take it…”

“m-more, need more. s-sei—!”

“said to keep quiet, angel.” nagi grunts while his fingers dance up to tap at your lips. “gimme your mouth. c’mere.” you part them like a good girl, dazed as you follow nagi’s needy command and let him slide two digits against your tongue, keeping your mouth pacified and full. it would be enough to put you back to sleep if you wanted.

you’re so good even when you’re barely conscious, sucking on nagi’s fingers and letting him have his way with you. he’s getting annoyed, not with you. never with you. there’s just too many obstacles in his way, too much interfering with reaching his goal and making you feel good.

too many layers of clothes, too many blankes and it’s really starting to piss him off.

“lift your leg, ‘m gonna get these clothes out of the way. what a bother.” seishiro pants wetly into the junction between your neck and shoulder. he works a hand between your bodies, not stopping the lazy roll of his hips from behind, and kicks off the blanket. his sweats are to follow, then your shirt is pulled up enough for his large palm to settle on your tummy, just above the hem of your underwear.

nagi lets out a satisfied hum once your panties are off. you’re so wet for someone so tired but pride bristles in his chest– knowing that only he can get you sticky and soaked like this even when you’re tiptoeing the line between sleeping and being awake.

he wastes no more time, running the length of his creamy cock through the slickness of your puffy folds before easing himself past your fluttering entrance – taking him so well and so easily. he stills for a moment, a shudder shooting down his spine because nagi can never quite get used to having your warmth wrapped around him while your cute little cunt drools down his dick.

seishiro plants wet, open mouthed kisses across your shoulders and neck, hooking his arm under your leg before he starts to move– revelling in your squeals of pleasure that echo around his fingers. “‘mph…angel, so…t-tight,” the words are stuttered, but drawn out in a low and sexy tone that makes you clench down hard. just catching on nagi’s cockhead each time it pulls out of you.”s’not fair. you’re not…fuck, you’re not fair t’me angel.”

even though he’s set the pace, slothully fucking up into your gooey insides, balls tapping lightly at the curve of your ass– you still have an ungodly amount of control over nagi, making his large body curl over yours and reducing him to a sex-crazed mess, a mop of sweaty white hair and muffled moans.

he chases your soaked, salacious pussy impulsively, hips twitching up to meet the back and forth of your own– bearing down on the spongy spot inside of you that makes you go wild.

the world around you both grows hotter and hotter, nagi practically drooling against your back while his fingertips on his freehand sink into your fleshy thighs to leave their mark— tugging you back onto his dick every time he pulls out, only to sink back in. “feels good. so warm. keep me inside, pretty girl,” he tells in a dreamy sigh, you and through the fog of your sleep, squeezing around the thickness at nagi’s base where he stretches you open.

your boyfriend rewards you with the same treatment, giving you more of what you crave and buries himself up to the hilt— deep within your velvet walls, smearing precum along your most sensitive spots. you gargle around his fingers, happy but drowsy and force yourself to circle your ass back onto nagi’s cock so that you lose your minds together.

lust sparks between your sweat drenched bodies in the dead of night, accompanied by the symphony of wet slaps and sticky skin on skin. it’s intoxicating how your cunt squelches with every thrust and languid jut from his slender hips. nagi is lazy and loving, desperate and hungry for the prize of your pleasure.

“sei. w’na cum,” you bleat, needier and more aroused than before when he finally pulls his digits from your drooling mouth. the white haired striker streaks your viscous salvia across your chin and down the front of your body until he hits the pulsing nub between your ruined pussy lips.

his eyelashes flutter right behind your ear, the striker’s low moans echoing into them and sending dopamine in a hot rush across your sleepy brain. arousing it. “so soon? just a little longer…s-shit… ‘m not there yet.”

truth be told, it wouldn’t take much more for nagi to cum— there’s too much going on that overwhelms him. the glisten of his cock as it escapes the snugness of your sloppy sex, the way you cry out for him, the mental image of your face that he can’t see. how your expression is probably twisted into something so delirious with ecstasy.

he could cream your insides right now, fill you up until it’s leaking out of you, staining your thighs and the sweater of his that you wear…but instead he pulls back the hood of your clit— circling the rough pad of his thumb into the sensitive little bud just to draw it out. make the night last longer.

“o-oh fuck! sei!” your voice is broken and husky, making his skin flush and his dick throb within the embrace of your sluice and addictive walls. you’re barely awake and you’ve got the white- haired soccer player fucked out beyond comprehension. “f-faster.”

“nuh-uh, wait f’me angel. please.” if you beg for him any more, especially with that tone, he might burst. give you his load before he’s done toying with you, spreading the filthy mix of your arousals over your clit in the shape of his name— with the hopes of bringing you closer to your high. “wan’ you creamin’ on me first. gotta hold it, pretty girl. you can do that f’me, right? f-fuck…” he rambles into the dark.

there’s a burn to backs of your thighs where nagi’s sweatpants have rubbed you raw while he fucks you raw— his shaft and it’s pretty blue veins coated in a white froth from your tight little hole. but you don’t care, you’re too brainless to even think about caring— babbling your praises, blindly reaching behind you for the dip in your boyfriend’s hips to pull him forward, use it as leverage to fuck you deeper like you want.

so you’re groping at him and he’s groping at you, lost in the twilight zone—fucking languidly against the sheets. the circles on your clit become rougher, tighter just like you do around seishiro who moans loud and proud against your ear, tongue sliding along the skin behind it.

it’s all open mouthed mewls and wondering hands, fat droplets of arousal running down your thighs and precum against your weeping slit. you’re both messes, passionate and tired and hungry for what you can take from one another. nagi’s moans grow higher and higher in octave until they nearly rival your own and the way he so ravenously pounds into you starts to falter.

“sei, ‘m there…t-there!” you warn him through shaky breaths, the coil in your stomach that threatens to unwind setting you on high alert. you feel your impending orgasm burn at your pelvis, tickle your spine and it only spurs nagi on— rolling his hips just right, cantering into you from behind with his balls soaked in your juices.

“yeah, yeah…yeah…i know. ‘m g’na cum for you mhm… angel. d’ya want it? s-say you wan’ it.” whines as if you’ll say no to him but doesn’t give you the choice. his large, lean body anchors you down on his cock as it bullies it’s way through your blistering hot walls to grind against that one special spot that makes you see stars. seishiro doesn’t let up, how can he? when you claw at his ass and his waist and beg him to go deeper.

your orgasm breaks the surface first, waves of your sweet nectar gushing from your slick sex so fast it almost forces nagi out of you. you squeal and he chokes on a staggered breath, every ripple of your cunt dragging him by the ankle towards his own high as he fucks you through your own. nagi’s load pours into your ravaged cunt as if the floodgates had been opened— warm and viscous as it seeps from your puffy folds, painting you in the shade of him.

fatigue sinks it’s fangs into seishiro as he grinds the last of his seed into you, making sure it sticks— shallowly thrusting into you until you both come back down to earth. he loosens hold on you, but only just, the weight of his large frame thrown over you as you catch your breath together.

“w-welcome home sei,” you hum, rolling over to face him, smiling as your boyfriend loses the fight to sleep before reaching up to twirl your fingers through his baby hairs. a gesture that always helps him sleep faster, that you always reward him with at the end of a long day. “missed you.”

“thanks angel, don’ go missin’ me when ‘m right here.” nagi grumbles, clinging onto you, exhausted— if he weren’t wrecking your shit mere moments ago. “now shh, c’mere sleep ‘n with me.” with that, you’re wrapped in his arms, safe and peaceful once again.

and there’s nothing seishiro nagi loves more.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #nagi x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #nagi smut #nagi x you #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro smut #nagi seishiro x you #seishiro nagi smut #bllk thirst #blue lock thirst #blue lock imagines #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #tw: somnophilia

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solar-wing · 9 months ago

Text

⚣ Nightwing & Shadow 🌃

⚣🌃 A/N → So, remember when I said I wasn't going to re-write and re-vamp Nightwing and Shadow like I did Primal? Hehe, funny story... I lied. HOWEVER, I did follow the original plot line...sort of. Just made it easier and smoother to read, along with SOME proofreading and fixing SOME grammar mistakes. So, this should roll out much faster than before (that also is possibly a lie knowing me). WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | MAJOR THEMES of NON-CON/DUB-CON | Omegaverse | YANDERE Behavior | Mentions of Blood | Bondage | Lactation Kink | M-Preg | Oral Sex | Knotting | Implied Stalking |

⚣🌃 Summary → A new vigilante, Shadow, takes to the streets of Gotham, protecting its innocent Omegas against arrogant and brutish Alphas and the arbitrary and oppressive laws that support their criminal-like behavior. Yet, what will he do when in both his civilian and vigilante lives, he's plagued by the very same problems he's fighting against?

⚣🌃 Words → 11.1K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙

⚣ ENJOY 🌃

Welcome to Gotham City.

Known for its less-than-sunny atmosphere and crime-riddled streets, the city holds many titles under its mantle. One of them being ‘Utter Hell for Omegas.’

In the old days, Omegas were rarely seen as love interests, romantic partners, or even just random associates you’d nod at on the street. Nope, they always had two roles attached to their titles; Fuck-Toys and/or Baby-Makers.

Not much has changed in the present day, save for a few laws passed here and there that criminalized some behaviors. In truth, these new laws and punishments were the equivalent of putting a toddler in time-out before rewarding them with a cookie later for acting like they were ashamed of their behavior.

It seemed like every day, another Omega was being abused by an Alpha who never understood the meaning of ‘no’ because they were raised in a society where everything was supposed to be ‘yes’ for them. Taken against their will and made to live in truly cage-like homes with partners who could only be called that when it came to legal documents.

In reality, they weren’t partners. They were masters, abductors, and delusional sociopaths who relied on biology and society to abuse and take the things they wanted rather than earn them.

They never saw the Omegas they were stripping of free will and autonomy as partners, or friends, or even humans for that matter. They saw them as possessions, things to own and show off to their friends and family as a symbol of how great they were and how well they were doing in life.

And Gotham was the breeding ground for these types of men and women.

Some would call it for what it was; ownership and power. They had no shame or morals about the acts they would commit. Others dared to call it romance, claiming that true love drove them to these vile acts and oppressive rules.

If this is what they called love, it’d be interesting to see what they’d do if they hated you.

Yet, progressing times meant more progressive and outspoken minds. Many, including some Alphas and Betas who held somewhat decent morals and values, were calling for change. They were protesting to their local, regional, and national governments for Omega liberation.

Of course, no revolution has ever started, let alone succeeded without someone getting their hands dirty.

Enter our hero, Y/N, and his story which some would argue was the ultimate catalyst that led to the fight for Omega Rights and Protections pushing toward victory.

Y/N lived a relatively quiet life in Gotham. Born and raised in the city, his parents taught him from a young age not only how to navigate this world in a way where he protected himself, but also equipped him with the means to do so if need be.

He was trained in the art of self-defense from the moment he had his first incident in school, when the signs of biological dynamics were becoming more and more clear, and some bigger kids decided to pick on him for it.

His mother, an Omega herself, saw this and immediately went to her husband, Y/N’s father, and demanded they get him in lessons. He agreed and they began scouting classes the very next day.

Y/N was blessed enough to see what a truly happy and healthy relationship between an Alpha and Omega was like from his parents. His father, bless his soul, never subscribed to the ideology that Alphas were the superior dynamic and held power over those below them, especially Omegas.

No, he fell in love with his Omega, genuinely in love we should say and not that obsessive and creepy kind where they excuse their horrible actions because of said ‘love’. No, he courted and adored her as nature intended, and their story eventually brought Y/N into existence whom they also loved and cherished as if he was the most valuable treasure on Earth.

Fast forward to the present, Y/N was a strong and stead-fast individual who didn’t let his biological dynamic hold him back from what he was meant to achieve. Seeing how different the world was from how his parents raised him, he made it his ultimate purpose to see to the change and betterment of society that included protections and rights for Omegas in Gotham and beyond.

In school, he studied business and politics, which landed him a position at Wayne Enterprises post-graduation, where he surprisingly had the backing of Bruce Wayne, CEO and heir to the very company he was employed by. He voiced his support and even dedicated teams to his mission which initiated the spread to other companies and beyond.

If a powerhouse like Wayne Enterprises was supporting ideas and notions of Omega Liberation and rights, many companies would soon follow. And as many know in this world, money talks. Politicians want to keep their investors and backers happy, so they’ll more than likely support whatever it is they’re claiming to support.

Though, appearances can be deceiving. Just because these companies would take up the mantle that they were for Omega rights, didn’t mean their actions would show that. And if there was one thing Y/N prided himself on, was being able to see bullshit for what it was; bullshit.

It didn’t deter him, though. It inspired him.

When Y/N sat and thought about it, he realized the thing that started and fueled most rebellions and movements was a symbol. An icon or an example that truly represented the meaning and impact behind said movement. And his meaning or idea was justice.

Justice for all Omegas who had been or had yet to be wronged by a system designed to hold them down in chains for others to use and abuse. He also sought liberation not only for those living today but future generations where they didn’t have to live in a world where they weren’t seen as people or equals.

What could be that symbol?

Conveniently, as Y/N sat in the living room of his moderately luxurious apartment, he looked out the window to see a symbol being cast in the sky. A symbol many residents of Gotham were all too familiar with.

The Bat Symbol.

And that’s when it hit him…

True, Gotham was a city known for its less-than-friendly streets and crime-filled alleys, but if the stories his parents told him were to be believed, Gotham was much worse before Batman began protecting its civilians, along with his numerous sidekicks and partners.

Seriously, why does it seem like Batman, or Gotham in general gets a new hero or vigilante every year? Kind of weird when you think about it.

Yet, they were about to get another one as Y/N had made up his mind. He knew the symbol his movement needed, the inspiration that was lacking for so many Omegas in Gotham and outside of it.

They needed to believe that they could stand up for change. That they could fight back and be victorious against their abusers. There was no such thing as biology not being on their side as much as it was their own belief not being on their side.

Omegas needed something, someone they could look up to, someone they could see fighting back and say “If they can do it, so can I.”

Y/N was going to be that symbol.

Thus, Shadow was born.

A bit cringe when you think about it, but the desired effect was still there.

Using his self-defense skills that never went without practice with his growing up and living in Gotham, as well as a couple of connections with some engineering friends from college, Y/N or Shadow was set to be Gotham’s newest vigilante and protector.

With their help, he created his own style of weapons and utility tools to help him out on the battlefield. Most notable were a pair of twin-style blades that when tossed or thrown, expanded out into throwing discs. They were magnetized to each other as well which threw out the need for grappling hooks when he could just toss one forward and use the other to pull himself forward.

He dubbed them Shadowblades.

Yes, still cringe, but aesthetics are everything when it comes to this kind of work.

It helped to have rich friends, especially when it came to his outfit. While, of course, Y/N couldn’t have everyone he knew getting involved in this project, he only reached out to those he knew he could truly trust as they would have just as much to lose if Y/N was to ever be caught and unmasked.

As mentioned before, aesthetics were everything when it came to these ordeals, so his outfit had to match his name. The color scheme consisted of a shadowy black and purple along with a domino mask that had gold covers in the slits to keep his eyes hidden as well.

Skintight (as usual), but flexible and functional. It was also light enough to accentuate Y/N’s smaller and leaner body frame. However, it did nothing to hide the dump truck from behind.

“Nightwing would be put to shame,” A comment from one of his friends who took it upon themselves to jokingly cop a feel. Y/N ‘jokingly’ tossed one of his blades at them as a warning, which they clearly received seeing how close the spinning blades came to their face before zipping back and folding close in his hand.

That did it. Shadow was a force to be reckoned with.

The moment Y/N hit the scene with his new outfit and weapons, ripples were being made in the city. It didn’t take long for Shadow to become a recognizable name and face in Gotham, some dubbing him the Omega Savior with all of his notable rescues and actions.

Within the first few months of Shadow being a presence in Gotham, he’d not only thrown a few dirty Alpha dogs behind bars for attempted rape and abduction but also stopped a major Omega trafficking ring happening right in the city, as well as liberated a few captives from their abusive homes and partners.

Unsurprisingly, with the trafficking ring, Y/N discovered many links and connections from that operation to people who were big-name executives and even CEOs at major companies. Even more shocking (not), some of those companies were the same ones that took up the mantle of supporting Omega rights and freedoms.

Discreet as ever, Y/N wasted no time in ‘suggesting’ that Wayne Enterprises cut all deals and partnerships with these companies, which helped earn him a promotion when the scandals were eventually revealed to the public. This ended up putting him more on Bruce Wayne’s radar who delivered his promotion news personally himself.

In every story, there’s a turning point. Many know the structure that many books, movies, and even shows will follow with the inciting incident that leads to the rising action until you reach the climax, where things typically turn for the worse.

For Y/N, that moment was when Bruce conveniently decided to introduce him to his first adopted son at the same time he was delivering his promotion news, Richard Grayson, or Dick for short. Little did he know how much Dick was about to invade his life.

But, everyone deserves a little teaser, right?

Shortly after Bruce introduced them, he had to leave for a meeting, leaving the two alone in Y/N’s new office. It wasn’t awkward, but it also wasn’t comfortable, at least for the Omega who was wary of being left in a room alone with an unfamiliar Alpha, despite how famous he was.

Yet, Dick seemed to keep a respectable front, only coming as close as he deemed allowed while making small talk, and congratulating Y/N on his new promotion. The Omega gave his thanks while setting his things up on his new desk and shelves.

Now, despite earlier thoughts and possible assumptions, Y/N was no prude. Just because he fought against Alpha abuse and their entitlement didn’t mean he didn’t have his fair share of interest and attractions.

And Dick Grayson did spark his interest. The man was undeniably handsome and had a body many either desired to touch or have. But, Y/N knew self-restraint, and sad as it may be, in this world, he knew to practice caution with whom he showed his attraction.

Dick, however, did not follow the same line of thinking. Of course, why would he if the world was made for him to not have to?

He noticed one of Y/N’s gazes towards him and took that as all the sign he needed to make his move. When Bruce said he was going to deliver the good news initially to the Omega, Dick all but demanded he bring him along. The former acrobat had his eyes on Y/N ever since he first started, and was waiting for the perfect chance to swoop in and make his claim.

Dick did have the right idea that Y/N was not the easy type, and would probably try to resist his charming suaveness. He hadn’t met anyone before who had such luck, so he wasn’t worried. In fact, the idea of a potential challenge made him all the more bold.

And he showed that boldness by closing the distance between him and the Omega while his back was turned, pressing himself against his backside. Dick was not shy about letting Y/N feel what he had packing down there while he in return got a feel of what he had decided was now going to be his.

Y/N immediately jumped at the touch and turned to move himself away but was held in place by the adopted Wayne who leaned forward, pressing his hard chest against the Omega’s while leaning his lips down their his ear.

“Feel like breaking in the new desk?” Dick whispered hotly into his ear, pressing his very noticeable throbbing appendage against Y/N’s backside, the layer of clothes between them doing nothing to help mitigate the sensation.

Y/N could feel his instincts urging him to submit and present himself to the Alpha. He was no stranger to rumors and gossip and heard the many tales of Dick Grayson’s, well… dick, from many of his co-workers. Despite Bruce’s very relaxed rule about employees having relations with his family.

Though the temptation was there to see if the rumors were true, he was not about to let himself become another number or name in Dick’s or anyone's black book. He had to remain a symbol.

“Sorry, but I prefer to keep things a bit professional. And, frankly, you don’t meet my criteria.” Y/N sarcastically remarked.

“Oh, come on,” Dick smirked against the side of Y/N’s face, slowly grinding himself against him a little harder while rubbing one of his hands up his side, feeling the hot skin of the Omega under his silk-white button-up. “Don’t tell me you have a rule against workplace sex. Or are you worried because I’m the boss’s son? If you don’t tell, I won’t.”

Dick began pressing soft kisses against Y/N’s skin, now using both of his hands to rub up Y/N’s front, slowly beginning to undo the buttons. The Omega had to admit that he was good with his hands and lips, and he could definitely see some truth in his co-worker's words about the man’s hip control. But, logic wasn’t out of his mind yet.

Y/N began to use his arms to push back against the desk, creating a little room while the Alpha was distracted with trying to reach inside his shirt. He pushed off the desk, creating enough momentum to throw Dick off balance and allow him the chance to step out of his grasp, immediately moving to the other side of the room putting distance between the two.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” Dick mocked.

“Not for you. One of my criteria is not being a self-entitled brat who only thinks with his dick, and that’s just to get a text back.” Y/N rudely articulated. He quickly fixed the buttons on his shirt while the Alpha ogled his body up and down with no shame.

“If you come back over here, I’ll show you why everyone calls me Dick.”

He scoffed before exiting out of the room, marching himself to Bruce’s office. His assistant, Wyndall, was sitting at his desk, looking at the storm that was an angry Y/N who demanded to know if Bruce was in a meeting.

Wyndall was one of the only other few Omegas alongside Y/N who worked (relatively) this high in the company, so they both found friendship in one another and would often meet up for lunch to hang out and talk. So, when he saw his friend storming in the way he did, he knew something had to be wrong and immediately paged Mr. Wayne.

Given the okay, Y/N went into the office and, to keep a long story short, had a very heated discussion with Mr. Wayne that definitely did not end in him threatening to castrate his son if he came near him again. And, hypothetically if it did, Bruce respected it.

Y/N understandably made demands that if Dick was going to be present on company property at any time, he be notified in advance and not left alone with him at any point. He also made sure it was clear on the Alpha’s part that he was to have no contact or even attempt any with him and to keep his distance at all times, should they ever be in the same room together.

Bruce agreed to everything without a second thought and apologized on his son’s behalf, which, in truth, didn’t surprise Y/N as his boss always had been understanding and accommodating since he started at Wayne Enterprises. Y/N had to admit that the billionaire was one of the few Alphas that gave him hope in his vision for the future.

That was only the beginning of his troubles though. Not only did Y/N have to deal with pesky Alphas in his civilian life, but he had to deal with it in his vigilante one as well.

As more time went by with Shadow cleaning up the streets and helping more Omegas by the day, he eventually caught the attention of the city’s other ‘defenders’. This is when Y/N learned how ‘possessive’ Batman was of Gotham and didn’t appreciate some newbie moving on his turf without checking with him first.

He didn’t give Y/N the grace of making an appearance himself, but he did send his lackeys, or ‘team’ after him. Thankfully, none of them could keep up with him in the field, given his natural speed and agility. A credit to his Omega nature.

Only one could keep up with him though, and that’s where his Alpha troubles began as Shadow. Nightwing, Gotham’s second most famous vigilante, seemed to make it his personal mission to catch Y/N, and unlike the others, gave the Omega a run for his money the way he managed to keep up with his elusive ways.

The first night they met, which also happened to be the first night he made contact with someone from Batman’s team, he wasn’t surprised to discover he was being tailed and watched. He was expecting them at some point to try and make contact with him.

Though, in hindsight, he expected more of a welcoming, collaborative approach and less of a threatening, hostile trying to capture him one.

Shadow had just finished dealing with a couple of Alpha thugs who were trying to force themselves on an innocent Omega when Batman’s first sidekick made his appearance. Just after he finished tying up the mammoths, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing, hearing the sound of footsteps approaching him from behind.

Immediately grabbing his blades from his sides, he turned to find Nightwing standing just a few short feet away from him, blocking the way out of the alley. Y/N had to admit, Nightwing was definitely a lot more attractive in person. Not that he wasn’t from far away, but you could appreciate the view more up close.

“So, you’re the new kid on the block that has Batman all worked up? Have to say, I wasn’t expecting this when he asked me to check you out, but I’m not disappointed,” The taller man spoke, the shadows around his face barely hiding the suggestive glance he was giving the Omega.

“I get the feeling you’re doing a lot more than just checking out.”

“Guilty.” Nightwing chuckled.

Shadow’s facemask hid his annoyed eye roll, suddenly wishing it was Red Hood or Robin he was dealing with instead. From what he heard, they tended to get to their point a lot faster.

“Well, I’d say I’m flattered, but I did promise my mother I’d never lie. Anyway, I’m assuming you’re here on behalf of the Bat himself.” Y/N inquired, wanting to just get to the point so he could get back to doing his work.

“Yeah, Dark Knight would like a word with you. Not really pleased with you moving in on his turf. Can’t say I agree with him, though. I’m sure many have appreciated your touch around here.”

Cue another annoyed eye roll from Shadow. Between him and Dick, he didn’t know who had it worse when deciding to try and flirt at the most inopportune times. And it looked like it was going to be a draw.

“Now, my instructions were to give you the chance to come on your own and, if not, use whatever external measures as needed. But, I’m willing to forgo this little meeting in my memory if you’ll give me something worth forgetting.”

“And what exactly would that be?” As if Y/N didn’t already know what the smug Alpha was getting towards.

“I know you help and save Omegas, but what about poor Alphas in need?”

“Assuming you’re the Alpha in question, what exactly would you need?”

“The touch and comfort of a sweet and savory Omega like yourself.”

It was cheesy and overused. A cliché at best and totally cringe at worst. But, Y/N couldn’t deny (try as he might) the attraction he felt stirring in his body. He didn’t know what it was, but there was something in him itching to give in to the Alpha’s request.

It was like the feeling when you hear a sound or lyrics to a song and it reminds you of something, but you just can’t put your finger on it. And there was something oddly familiar about the vigilante that had Y/N’s curiosity piqued.

Yes, Y/N had standards and criteria for who he would decide to give his time to, but he couldn’t deny that Dick, and now Nightwing, both held something that made the idea of throwing both of those things out the window. But, again, his goal of being someone to look up to for him and all Omegas alike remained strong in his mind, so he went against his body’s sexual desires and instincts.

Was Nightwing attractive up close and afar? Arguably, yes. Did he appear to have a very nice and chiseled body under his skin tight suit? Also, arguably, yes. Yet, was he just as infuriating and annoying as every other persistent Alpha who couldn’t spell ‘Hint’ even with a dictionary in front of them?

Absolutely.

It was this thinking that helped Y/N come back to his state of mind before he faked a sultry smile on his face, walking forward to rub his hand down Nightwing’s chest (which, Jesus Christ, that motherfucker is FIRM). The Alpha smirked down at the Omega going to place his hands against his waist before getting the uno reverse of his life.

In some complicated flip and turn, Shadow managed to not only catch Nightwing off his guard but put him in a submission hold with his head and neck being squeezed between the Omega’s flexing thighs. What was that saying about saving lives? Because this seemed to be the opposite.

“Is this the comfort you were seeking,” Shadow maliciously teased the Alpha, while flexing his legs more, effectively choking out the Alpha. When he decided to release him, Nightwing fell to the ground coughing, trying to catch his breath while the Omega threw one of his blades to zip off.

“Next time, tell Batman to send Red Hood or Robin. They’re a bit more persuasive and less desperate.”

After that, Y/N made sure to be extra careful on his patrols, figuring Nightwing would not be as forgiving lest they meet again in another dark alley or atop a rooftop. His Alpha troubles were nowhere near over yet, especially in his civilian life.

Some time had passed after the incident between him and Dick at his job, and after having the janitorial and cleaning staff do a deep clean of his entire office which he tipped them graciously for (tip your service workers people), Bruce adhered to his conditions perfectly.

Whenever Dick was in the office, Y/N was immediately notified and he would have his schedule altered for the day to avoid any run-ins with the billionaire’s son. If there was an occasion where he couldn’t get out of it and the former acrobat was present, he kept his distance from him and was happy to see the other doing the same even if it looked like he didn’t want to.

You’d think with his tight schedules at work and his busy nightlife, the young Omega would barely have any time for fun and social things like parties and dating.

You’d be right. Y/N did not party at all, but he did find time to mix and mingle occasionally and had come up lucky in recent months. On a previous outing with some co-workers, after a successful deal had gone through, Y/N had met a nice and attractive Alpha who happened to be a friend of Wyndall’s.

His name was Leo and he was not only a fitness trainer, but also a teacher in self-defense arts and fighting. Guess what their first date was considering the mutual interest.

Dinner and a movie. Dirty minds think alike, huh?

But, Y/N truly felt like he was growing strong feelings for Leo. He was a respectable Alpha who treated him with nothing but kindness, respect, and love. Attentive, romantic, and very easy on the eyes, the more time he spent with the Alpha, the more he could imagine spending the rest of his life with him.

Of course, he was no fool, and though they were still relatively new to this relationship, he wasn’t going to let up yet, knowing the first year is usually when the prospective partner is always on their best behavior. Really it was six months, but he was being gracious since he liked him.

Y/N even brought him as his date to Bruce’s gala that was being held in his honor. A major deal had been made at Wayne Enterprises where they partnered with some of the biggest charities in the region to begin plans for creating homes and centers for Omegas who were victims of abusive homes and relationships as well as those who were saved from human trafficking.

At first, he was tempted to not go, but since he was being honored at the event for being the major showrunner for the entire project, it’d be rude for him not to show. Of course, Leo decided to make it a whole show and went out to rent a new tux as well as a limousine to take them to Wayne Manor where the event was being held.

To say Y/N felt like a prince being swept off his feet the entire night would have been an understatement. Not only was he impressed with Leo’s manners and dedication, but he also duly noted the Alpha’s restraint and control considering they hadn’t done the do yet, despite being almost half a year into their relationship.

And there were moments when they came close and the temptation was all too real. Contrary to the earlier joke, the Alpha and Omega did have more physical type dates, where they met in Leo’s gym and would practice different moves and fighting styles following both of their training.

As you can imagine when you bump and grind hot sweaty bodies against each other, at some point, things can get carried away at intervals, but Leo always pulled back, saying he wanted to respect Y/N’s decision and wait until they were both fully ready. Damn, having morals and respect for yourself can really take the fun out of things sometimes.

Anyway, the night went on without a hitch. Y/N mingled and greeted the guests as well as shook hands with a few important people Bruce wanted to introduce him to. He gave a speech and had a few more inside jokes with Leo about the stuffy and posh atmosphere these galas radiate.

Right when they were planning to make their exit, things of course had to get interesting.

“Evening, Y/N. Long time, no see. It’s good to see you.”

Y/N counted to five in his head, reminding himself where he was and that couldn’t introduce the back of his fist to Dick Grayson’s cheek, no matter how bad he wanted to. Their running into each other was inevitable, the Omega recognized that. Whether it was him who accidentally did it, or the billionaire’s son who intentionally did it, they were bound to run into each other again.

He remained civilized though. His mother always taught him how being an Omega in this world, people were going to try and push him more than any others just because they saw him as an easy target. She always said the moment you reacted, you proved them right, and he wasn’t going to let that happen. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be petty though…

“Dick, what a surprise. I’d say likewise, but you know how our Lord & Savior feels about lying,’ Y/N responded with a smile on his face but the sarcasm clearer than ever.

Leo chuckled to the side of him, and for a moment, a quick fleeing second, Dick’s cool and suave charade dropped, and Y/N saw how his attitude and lack of respect triggered the Alpha. The adopted Wayne managed to retain his instincts though, keeping a cool smile on his face.

“Ah, you’re funny. A lot funnier than I remember when we were in your office,” It was then Dick seemed to acknowledge the other presence standing before him, “And just who might this be? Your next conquest?” He inquired in a ‘joking’ manner.

That wasn’t appreciated, given the nasty grimace that wiped over Y/N’s face as he was about to respond with an equal if not more than childish insult. At least, until Leo decided to interject in.

“Actually, I’m his date. Though, I wouldn’t mind being a conquest if it came to that. It's better than showing up alone to an event like this with no one by my side. Speaking of, where’s your date?” Leo asked, an egotistical smile on his face as he stared down the other Alpha, already knowing the answer.

Dick looked more than aggravated, and despite his surprise at Leo’s snarkiness, it did not stop Y/N from laughing out loud, despite his failed attempts at concealing them. While the Omega would have loved to stand there a bit longer and see how interesting that encounter could have gotten, he knew better and decided that was a perfect time to make a strategic exit.

“Well, Dick, as much as I’d love to stay and chat, I wouldn’t. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Dick.” Y/N said, quickly grabbing Leo’s arm and tugging him towards the main entrance.

When they reached the main hall, Leo went to give their valet card to the attendant standing by the door, while Y/N informed him he was going to use the bathroom quickly before they left. Both of them were oblivious to the shadow following behind the Omega.

Y/N found the bathroom and quickly did his business, however, he did take a small moment while using the toilet to admire the decor and pristine state of the bathroom.

“Oh, to be filthy rich and pee in luxury.”

After flushing and washing his hands, he was drying them off and was about to head for the door when it suddenly swung open and a familiar face entered.

“Dick! What the hell you fucking perv! Have you ever heard of knocking, or did Bruce forget that in etiquette training?”

“Funny,” Dick replied, his usual lighthearted tone gone, replaced by something dark and vexing. Y/N didn’t understand why he felt a small flutter in his abdomen at the tone of voice, but he chose to ignore that in favor of getting past the creepy Alpha.

“Yeah, I’m hilarious. Open the door, Dick. I’m not playing these games with you,” Y/N ordered.

“Who said anything about playing,” Dick asked, but he apparently wasn’t looking for an answer if the way he grabbed the Omega by his suit jacket and threw him against the sink was anything to go by.

“What the fuck! Get off of me!” Y/N shouted, pushing against the Alpha’s chest, but his smaller state compared to the acrobat put him at a slight disadvantage. If the hard and prominent muscles he felt under the jacket were anything to go by, he’d say Dick spent a fair amount of time in the gym. Made sense though, given his former circus background.

“Oh, come on. You can quit the act now.” Dick huffed while rubbing his hands down the Omega’s body, stopping right at his waist.

“What act? Were you dropped on your head as a baby?” Y/N retorted, still pushing (groping) at the Alpha’s chest. He could feel Dick’s fingers prodding around his body, taking extra time to squeeze his ass before making their way further down his legs, lifting them and forcing them around the acrobat’s waist.

Dick’s smug look grew even more when he could see the Omega’s submissive instincts kicking in, feeling how less and less he was putting up a fight against his actions.

“This act. Look at you, slowly giving in and letting me take control of your body. I’ve dealt with plenty of bratty little Omegas like you. Playing the honorable and conservative role, only to give it up the second you get the attention you’ve been begging for. You almost had me fooled for a quick second. But, after seeing that sad excuse you brought here as a date, I realized your game immediately. I’ll admit it though, you managed to get what you wanted. I’ve never been as jealous before as I was watching you with him all night.”

While saying all this to Y/N, Dick had wrapped one of his arms around the Omega’s waist forcing his body forward on the marble sink and pushing his own against it. His hard and throbbing member was positioned at an angle in the Alpha’s trousers where the smaller male could almost make out the entire length and size of the throbbing tool, the way it was being ground against his pelvis.

That combined with the adopted Wayne’s ever-talented lips sucking and kissing at the Omega’s neck while sniffing the boy’s pheromones and cologne left a fog in Y/N’s mind that was hard to see past. No longer was he fighting back against Dick, but instead he was mindlessly rubbing and digging his fingers into the hard muscles of his chest and abs covered by his white dress shirt, something the Alpha held a smug satisfaction in.

“Oh, would you look at that? What happened to your high and mighty attitude? I thought you weren’t attracted to demanding and ‘barbaric’ Alphas like me? For the amount of crap you’ve talked, I figured you’d have more restraint than that.” Dick’s mocking words were a bit in cruel taste, but it was a taste Y/N couldn’t decide if he liked or not.

His smug attitude and confidence were attractive to the Omega, given the pleasurable tingles he could feel inside his underwear which were slowly getting wetter by the second. But, that was the very thing that confused him.

Y/N couldn’t count how many times he heard this similar or exact sentiment from another overly confident Alpha who felt entitled to his attention and body. So, why was he having different thoughts and reactions now? Was there something in the air? Did he recently start taking some new vitamin or pill that had psychosis-like side effects? Did someone cast a spell on him?

Or was Y/N genuinely attracted and turned on by Dick Grayson and was just too stubborn to realize every word the Alpha was saying was true. He’d rather not think about that.

Small moans and grunts began to slip out of Y/N’s mouth while feeling the increased kisses and marks being left across his neck and jaw. With his legs spread and Dick in between, there was nothing left to the imagination of what he felt grinding against his pelvis.

When his noises were beginning to reach a volume level that could bring unwanted attention to the Alpha, he had no choice but to remove one of his hands from the delectable body he was ravishing to cover the Omega’s mouth. It was okay for now, he’d have him screaming in no time.

“Oh, Y/N. You’re so perfect. Why do you have to act so stuck up though? Just look at you right now,” Dick muttered against the Omega’s skin before looking up.

It was a sight to behold, seeing the same man responsible for fighting against the system that held Omegas down in the first place being subjected to the same treatment he claimed to hate, and enjoying it at that.

“And to think, we could've been doing this very same thing in your office if you weren’t acting so stuck up.”

Dick’s feverish kisses and bites increased as his hand forced open Y/N’s shirt, exposing his shiny, leaking nipples to the Alpha. He smirked at the Omega’s whimper from feeling the cool air in the bathroom rush against his wet nipples before moving his lips down and attaching them to one of the nubs.

The yelp Y/N let out under Dick’s hand was enough to have the Alpha pausing in his ministrations, making sure no one came knocking on the door before continuing his feeding on the Omega’s nectar. His other hand that wasn’t muffling the moans and cries of the Omega was working its way down the front of the smaller man’s past, just getting past the elastic band of his underwear.

Y/N’s eyes went wide when he felt Dick's cool fingers prodding around at the top of his arousal, just tugging at his cocklette which he knew was probably leaking slick along with this cunt. He did his best to resist the sensations, but even he had to admit the man was skilled.

His eyes began scanning around the room, trying his best not to get distracted by the hot sight of Dick’s dark head of hair lapping and sucking at his chest like a newborn while he felt his pleasure nub and cocklette being fondled under his underwear. That’s when he spotted something of interest.

Sitting right beside his body was a candle, and more importantly, the heavy looking golden holder it was sitting in. It was a bit hard at first with the distractions he was dealing with, but he managed to get the candle out and holder into his grip, using it to bash the side of Dick’s head.

He shouted out in pain, leaning back just enough for Y/N to shove his body forward before swinging his leg right into Dick’s exposed crotch. The dark-haired man groaned in pain, falling over on his knees while clutching his bruised genitals, looking up to the Omega who scooted himself off the counter, taking a moment to collect himself before cleaning himself up and fixing his clothes.

“Still playing hard to get, I see,” Dick uttered.

Y/N turned around, throwing a dirty look toward the Alpha on the floor before turning his nose up at him in a sneer, “You wish I was playing with you at all.”

“True, but it’s okay for now. I’ll have you begging for me soon enough,” Dick chuckled, before groaning again from another painful throb.

Y/N tried to ignore the flutter he felt in his pants and the surge of feelings he felt in his chest. He gave Dick one last glare, before exiting the bathroom, promptly finding Leo and leaving the party. On his way out though, he ran into Bruce who looked concerned at the Omega’s disheveled and angry state.

“Ask your son,” He retorted, grabbing his valet ticket out of his jacket before looking up at the CEO, a storm of emotion and thoughts behind his eyes, “Mr. Wayne, it’s been a pleasure working for W.E., and I’m very happy to see the progress we’ve been able to make in my time at the company. But, after tonight, I think it’s best if I move on to other opportunities. I’ll be sending someone to collect my things from my office.”

With that, Y/N grabbed Leo’s hand and exited the party and Wayne Manor, hopefully for the last time.

That night, the Omega was extra brutal on his patrol, taking out his anger and confusion on every bloody criminal and thug Alpha who even looked like they were up to no good. By the end of the night, Y/N was going to have to ask his contacts for some new gloves with how dirty and covered in blood they were.

As the weeks rolled by, Y/N received numerous emails and calls from Bruce Wayne asking him to come back to the company and if they could work something out. Even Wyndall had reached out to see what was going on with him.

The only person he Y/N talked to about all of this was Leo. He did tell him what went down in the bathroom, and that he just needed some time to sort out his head. The Alpha respected his wishes and still checked in on him every other day just to make sure he was okay.

The thing was, Y/N didn’t really know if he was okay. He felt like he was going crazy.

On one hand, he was very angry and upset still about the bathroom incident and just the situation overall. He couldn’t believe the nerve of Dick, thinking he could just bust his way into the room and into his life and just have his way with him. It was unbelievably arrogant and barbaric.

On the OTHER hand, it was the barbarism of the situation that had Y/N so confused. More specifically, why he was so attracted to it. The truth was, Dick pointed out some significant stuff in that bathroom that had the Omega overthinking everything.

Why was he attracted to it, and why didn’t he fight Dick off harder. He could’ve taken him and avoided that whole situation, but he didn’t. Why?

That was the question that kept pounding in his head over and over for weeks on end. One part of him wanted nothing to do with Dick Grayson, but the other part wanted everything to do with him. Wanted to give in and submit to the Alpha.

But, he had to be a symbol. And he couldn’t do that if he gave in to the very thing he was fighting against.

Though, little did he know that soon, he wouldn’t have much of a choice.

Even if his Alpha troubles had gone quiet in his civilian life, his vigilante one was another story. Shadow was plagued by countless run-ins with Nightwing who was persistent in his endeavors of trying to corner him. That or he wanted another chance to throw some cheesy one-liners at him, probably both. Thankfully, Y/N managed to stay a step ahead every single time and always managed to avoid his capture.

At least that’s what he thought.

Things would take a major turn when Shadow decided to answer a distress call coming from Wayne Towers. An Omega claimed they were being harassed and stalked by an Alpha who locked them in the building.

Since it was his old stomping grounds, and he knew plenty of ways in and out of the building, he figured it’d be a quick mission. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary on the outside, but for some reason, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing, but he still decided to go in.

The first thing he noticed when he got inside was how quiet the building was, almost too quiet. He’d worked plenty of late shifts in this building before and the silence was never this loud. Where were the nighttime guards? Or the other executives who inevitably stayed late to work?

Something weird was going on. Y/N made his way to the top of the building, closer to Bruce’s office where he heard the Omega say he was hiding over the police line he tapped into. As he approached closer to the hiding spot, he couldn’t help how tense he grew, feeling the ever-growing sensation of being watched take over him.

When Y/N finally made it to Bruce’s office, he was more or less shocked at who he found waiting for him.

“Wyndall?”

The Omega looked up, confused at first but then suddenly shouting out only to be muffled by the gag around his mouth. His hands and feet were bound by rope and he was tucked into the corner. Y/N was about to make his way over until he realized Wyndall was looking at something behind him and not at him.

He turned just in time to see a flash of blue and black lunge at him before ducking out of the way in time, “Nightwing,” The Omega growled under his breath.

“Good to finally see you again, Shadow. Well, at least all of you since I’m only used to seeing the far-distant view of your back as you run away from me. Though, it’s definitely not a sight I’m complaining about.” Nightwing said, his usual playful smirk on his face as he once again eyed the Omega vigilante up and down like their first meeting.

“Attacking innocent Omegas just to get to me, why am I not surprised? Is Batman that mad at me?”

“Who said anything about Batman? Maybe I just wanted the chance to finish our conversation from before. And you say attacking, I say leveraging advantages.”

The Omega looked from Nightwing to Wyndall who was watching the exchange while still struggling to get out of his binds. “Well, hate to burst your bubble, but I’m not in much of a talking mood,” Shadow said before grabbing one of his blades and throwing it at the other vigilante.

Nightwing managed to duck but was unprepared for the attacks he received. Using the surprise to his advantage, Shadow landed quick blows along the other vigilante’s chest and legs before sweeping under him and knocking him to the ground.

When Nightwing didn’t immediately get up, the Omega rushed over to Wyndall, using his blades to cut the ropes and gag, “Thank you,” Wyndall began to say, before both of them turned to see the other vigilante not where Shadow left him.

“No time for that, just grab your stuff and let’s go,” Shadow ordered, getting the Omega off the ground and both of them making a break for the stairs.

Just as Wyndall made it to the exit and Shadow right behind him, neither of them saw Nightwing dart out of the shadows, surprising the Omega vigilante before being tackled to the ground.

“Where do you think you’re going? We’re not finished talking,” The Alpha growled in the smaller man’s face, doing his best to keep the Omega pinned.

Thankfully for the Alpha, the Omega was distracted by Wyndall coming back to try and help him, “No, Wyndall! Just go. Get out of here!”

“But-”

“I said GO!”

He stood there for a few moments contemplating, before turning around and heading down the stairs. Nightwing smirked down at the Omega, using his strength to overpower him and pin his arms down.

“Alone at last,” Nightwing smiled before leaning down and claiming Shadow’s lips in a soft, but demanding kiss. The Omega could feel a familiar sensation sparking in his pants and certain feelings swirling in his gut.

Though, it didn’t mean he was giving up, doing his best to wiggle his leg putting as much momentum as he could into his knee as he shoved into the Alpha’s crotch. His eyes went wide as he let out a muffled grunt before breaking the kiss and letting his face fall into the side of the Omega’s neck.

But his grip didn’t loosen at all nor did his strength waver over the Omega as he tried to push back to free himself, and that’s when he heard the chuckle beside his ear.

“Sorry, but I’ve learned from your tricks before.”

Nightwing leaned off the Omega, but not enough for him to escape. Only enough to where he could flip him around on the floor, bringing his arms and hands behind his back before grabbing some more binding rope off his utility belt.

He tied both arms and legs together, grabbing his shadowblades off his waist and attaching them to his belt. When he had him secured, he turned the Omega back over and lifted him off the ground, holding him steady while taking a moment to admire his captured prize.

“All that running and fighting, and look at you know, finally caught in my grasp.”

“So what, you’re gonna take me to Batman now?”

Nightwing chuckled again, “Hmm, still haven’t figured it out yet. I told you, this isn’t about Batman. This is about you and me. It’s about finally taking what rightfully belongs to me.”

The Alpha leaned down to grab the Omega around his thighs before throwing him up in a fire-man carry and making his way down the hall. Y/N watched from his place atop the Alpha’s shoulder as they traveled through the dark and quiet halls. Eyeing the various security cameras positioned throughout the hall and noting that they were all missing the usual red light that indicated they were on and watching.

‘Did Nightwing manage to cut the cameras?’ Y/N thought to himself as they made their way down another hall, a familiar one at that as he realized they were getting close to his old office.

It was then that Y/N started thinking about various things. How Nightwing seemed to predict his move of kneeing him in the crotch as a last resort since he was apparently wearing some protective garment that kept his genitals safe. Then again, why wouldn’t he being a vigilante?

But, the comment he made seemed as if he expected it. Then, there was the fact that out of all the people Nightwing chose to attack in Wayne Towers, he chose Wyndall, one of Y/N's few friends at the company from this time working here.

And while he’d rather not think about it, that kiss they shared was just as pleasurable as it was familiar. Things were starting to slowly come together for the Omega. It was becoming somewhat clear that Nightwing knew he was, especially given the fact that he was right about his earlier hunch.

They were heading for his old office.

Y/N recognized the hall the moment they turned down the corner, before they made their way through the familiar glass door, Nightwing pausing in the middle of the room while looking at the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Hmm, feels just like the first time, only the view I have is much better than yours,” The Alpha gloated before using his other hand that wasn’t holding the Omega’s thighs together to land a harsh spank on the plump ass next to his face.

“Ouch, you fucking asshole,” Shadow yelled, before yelping out again in pain as he was subjected to even more brutal and harsher slaps.

Imagine how he felt in the moment, the Omega Vigilante tasked with saving his kind from brutish behavior, getting spanked over the shoulder of the Alpha who’d relentlessly pursued him for months. Only now, he knew that this Alpha was not different from the one that had been pursuing him in his civilian life as well.

“Alright, Dick! That’s enough.” He shouted, still flailing over the Alpha’s shoulder from the sting in his ass as he tried to hold back the tears that were brewing in his eyes.

The Omega suddenly found himself back on the ground, standing on his two feet but being held by the Alpha at the waist. He did his best to not scoff at the arrogant smirk on the vigilante’s face as he looked down at him with a knowing look.

“Oh, finally put the pieces together, have you?” Dick asked.

“You didn’t make it hard with your not-so-clever hints and cliché remarks.”

“Careful,” Dick warned, squeezing the tender behind while laying a hand over his growing arousal, “Before when I gave you the chance to submit to me willingly, you refused and defied me every single time, always with that smart and condescending attitude of yours. I was forgiving then, but not so much now. And I don’t have to be.”

Y/N didn’t know why, but that same feeling he had before in the bathroom, that ever-growing curiosity, had him wanting to bite back. To test the Alpha and see how far he would go. He didn’t understand why he was actively fighting to get out of the situation he was in.

Frankly, he didn’t care about any of that. Right now, at this moment, he couldn’t remember or think of why he cared about being a symbol so much.

All he cared about was wanting to get fucked.

“Hmm, well, maybe if you had been someone worthy of submitting to, I actually would have listened and given in. Even now, I still don’t see someone deserving of my attention, let alone my body.” Y/N remarked, his own smirk pulling at his lips.

The look in Dick’s eyes was something menacing. It was as if the curtains that were obscuring who the Alpha really was were suddenly going up in flames, and now, the real show was about to begin.

“Oh, you want someone worthy, huh? I’ll give you someone worthy.” Dick uttered, a darkness to his words before he forced Y/N onto his knees.

He undid the clasps of his utility belt before undoing the secret zippers at his crotch, reaching inside and pulling out a sizable tool. Definitely not small, but not too big that would have Y/N clenching. But, appearances could be deceiving. After all, Dick was just as much known as a playboy as his adoptive father.

“How about we fill that mouth with something more worthy, huh?”

He barely gave the Omega any time to comply, using his hand to grip the smaller male’s jaw and force his mouth open, using his other hand to shove his hard appendage inside and down his throat. Y/N choked and gagged over the organ, saliva already drooling out around his lips and tears building in his eyes as the Alpha let out a guttural groan, gripping his hair now and holding him against his pubes.

“That worthy enough for ya?” Dick growled out, jerking himself forward causing another round of chokes and gags and reveling in the sound of them, “Finally, after all that time, waiting around and watching you ignore me and toss me aside, look where you are now. Crying over my dick.”

Y/N couldn’t even use his hands to try and push back at Dick’s hips, seeing as they were still bound behind his back.

Eventually, the Alpha pulled himself out, chuckling at the sounds of the Omega gasping for air and coughing. “Enjoy this little break, it’s gonna be one of the few you get all night,” Dick taunted, yanking on Y/N’s hair again before shoving himself back down his throat.

He kept the Omega like that for another minute, seeing how long he could go before giving him a slight breather for air. When he had enough of that, he slowly began to move in and out of his throat, watching with sinful pleasure at the teary-eyed look the Omega was looking up at him with as his veiny appendage slid in and out of his mouth, a glistening shine come off it from his salvia and the light of the moon through the window.

Eventually, Dick was ruthlessly shoving himself in and out of Y/N’s lips, barely giving him any breaks or breathers as he claimed the Omega’s throat for himself. This was only the first of his many victories that he would achieve tonight. His patience and planning would finally reward him, especially with the insurance he set up for himself, as he eyed the hidden camera tucked away on a shelf in the corner of the room.

Y/N had no choice but to learn how to breathe through his nose to get the much-needed air he required as Dick had his way with his throat. His mouth was covered in spit and drool while his eyes and cheeks were soaked with his tears. When Dick pulled himself out for the last time, he took a sharp breath in, falling forward slightly as he also released the grip on his hair.

“n-nh ... ah … fuck,” The Omega breathed before feeling himself be yanked back up to his feet and pulled towards the desk.

“I’m not done with you yet, slut.”

With one sweeping motion, he knocked everything to the ground before forcing the Omega against the desk and bending him over it. He made quick work of the utility belt before unbuckling and unzipping wherever he had to, pulling down his pants and revealing his wet cunt to him.

“Oh, look at that, even prettier than I imagined,” Dick looked over the panting Omega, taking pride in the fact that this was all his doing before taking a finger and rubbing it over the wet fold and leaking head of his cocklette, “What do you think, Y/N? Should I go slow? Give you time to adjust and widen up for me? Or should I just take you like this? Since I’m apparently not worthy enough?” He asked with a leering sneer.

“please ...a-ah, fuck ... !” Y/N moaned, feeling Dick’s fingers slip inside his heat while his thumb rubbed rough circles over his cocklette and nub.

“Aw, look at that. Told you I’d have you begging for me soon enough,” He said, forcing his fingers inside him a little more before taking them back out, “That’s enough of that. Time’s up, slut. Now, I finally claim what’s rightfully mine.”

Dick turned Y/N over, removing the rope at his ankles before pushing the smaller male further up on the desk, slotting himself between the open legs. He took a moment to admire the sight before him while slapping his dick against the Omega’s dripping entrance.

“After all that time, all that fighting back and acting like you didn’t want me. Look at you here now, helpless, about to have your body claimed by your rightful Alpha. And to think, we could’ve been doing this so long ago. You and me, Nightwing & Shadow, patrolling the streets of Gotham together, but you decided to be a little bitch about everything and resist me at every turn. Well, now, you’ve got nowhere to go. You’re all mine, and I won’t be letting you go anytime soon. Not now, not tonight or tomorrow, and especially, not after this…”

Dick gripped his appendage while holding Y/N at the center of his stomach, sinking himself inside the wet heat with a deep and vocal groan. The Omega shouted out at the brute and forceful intrusion before feeling a hand slap over his mouth.

“Quiet, slut. I may have knocked the guards out, but we still want you alerting anyone else now, do we?”

Dick held his hand firm against the Omega’s mouth while savoring the feeling of the tight flesh wrapped all around his cock. He had sex with many people before, Omegas and Betas alike, but none of them compared to the feeling he had right at that moment.

A few moments went by, Y/N’s vocal but muffled cries slowly quieting as Dick does his best to calm himself down as well before taking his first move inside the soft and tight cunt. Another whine pops up from the Omega, feeling the drag and pull of the hard cock in his insides.

“Quiet baby, I’m trying to focus on not cumming here, and your little sweet sounds aren’t helping,” Dick ordered, taking his time to slowly move himself in and out while fighting down his growing climax. He knew they would have multiple rounds, but there was nothing like the euphoric feeling of claiming your prize. Conquering the very thing that fought so hard against you.

And, now, his reward lay helpless beneath him. Subject to whatever treatment and punishment the Alpha saw fit. Dick knew it, and he could see Y/N was realizing the way he squirmed around on the desk trying to adjust themselves to being owned and taken by someone worthy.

When Dick made his first full thrust inside, the tears sprang to Y/N’s eyes again as he tried to scoot himself up on the desk away from the intrusive weapon spearing his guts.

“Uh uh, baby,” Dick said, holding him by one of his legs as he forced the Omega still on his cock, “there’s no running from this. You’ve got no choice. You’re tied up and helpless, and you’re going to take my cock whether you like it or not.”

And take it, he did.

Once Dick got himself under control and didn’t feel like he would cum too soon, he mercilessly fucked the Omega with no tone of softness or tenderness in his movements. His cries under the Alpha’s palms never ceased, seemingly only increasing in volume as neared closer and closer to his own orgasm.

Above him, Dick groaned and grunted like an animal while plowing his insides, his other palm was busy squeezing roughly at the whiny little cocklette and rubbing furiously over his little pinch of nerves. The evidence of their filthy fun was becoming increasingly more potent as the slick around his cock combined with the soaking and squelching walls of the cunt he was defiling dripped and splashed onto the floor and around the edges of the desk.

“This is all your fault, you know,” Dick spat, the sweat evident on his body as his hair stuck to his face and the top parts of his mask, “if you had just listened to me and been obedient, our first time could have been gentler and more romantic. But, you wanted to be a stubborn little brat who defied his Alpha, and now you’re paying the price.”

Dick delivered powerful and harsher thrusts to Y/N’s core, pulling even louder sounds from his throat as his arms tingled with sleep from being pressed between his body and the shaking wooden desk.

“Oh fuck, you’re squeezing me even tighter than you were before. Are you trying to make me cum, slut?” Dick asked, eyeing his Omega with lust and focus as he drilled even harder into his insides. “Still think I’m not worthy, huh? Still think someone else is more deserving of your body, Y/N? I bet you no one else can have you wet and screaming like this. I can feel the vibrations from all your moaning and whines under my palm. No one can make you feel like I can. No one can fuck you like I can! No one can own you like I can.”

Somehow, Dick began to go even faster, tears now flowing at a fast rate out of Y/N’s eyes as he met his explosive end over the Alpha’s cock. The vigilante leaned over the Omega’s body as his knot slowly approached.

“Get ready for it, slut. And feel lucky you’re not in heat yet, but soon, you will be. And soon, you’ll be carrying my kids.” Nightwing said as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside before meeting his end.

He leaned down and bit into your neck with a vocal growl as he buried himself all the way inside, knotting his Omega for the first time. His body convulsed with shudders and shakes as he felt himself shooting his seed deep inside, Y/N feeling the streaks paint his insides.

Both their breaths slowly returned to normal as they waited for his knot to do down, and when Dick felt like he had enough strength, he held himself up, taking his hand away from the Omega’s mouth before looking at him in his post-orgasmic state.

“You were amazing, baby. I’m sorry I had to be so rough with you, but you gave me no choice. But, don’t worry, it won’t be the last time. We should get you home so I can show you how an Alpha properly treats his Omega.”

Y/N could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence, and he didn’t have any time to try and think of one as Dick pulled himself off and out of him. He reclothed both of them before tying the Omega’s legs back together and tossing him back over his shoulder.

“You’re all mine now, baby. Nightwing & Shadow forever,” Dick said to himself while grabbing the camera off the shelf, stopping the recording before exiting the office and heading down towards the parking garage where he planned to take you both home.

To be continued…

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

🌙 | Part Two | 🌙

🌃 | Nightwing & Shadow | 🌃 (this image was genrated by Bing AI)

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b1asho · 3 months ago

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Huzzahh, it's species number 3! (There's a total of 6, including humans. 7 if you count artificial intelligences, 8 if you count the uhh other intelligences).

An official up to date visual for everyone's favorite communist amphibians, the Kixeli, and some up-to-date info!! ->

Kixeli are a small sentient species hailing from a planet covered mostly in ocean. They are amphibious, and originally evolved to switch between swimming and climbing using their webbed hands and powerful arms.

Their skin is permeable, allowing them to extend their time underwater to hunt and gather as well as reproduce, but due to their larger body and brain size/oxygen needs this isn’t sustainable and they must return to the surface.

Alongside their frequent trips outside the water, they also have a mucus layer and several specialized glands (including in their face by their eyes) to help remove excess salt and change levels of urea in their body to help make sure they dont lose resources when in the ocean.

Kixeli are omnivorous, with a focus on fruits and sealife. many cultures have a preference against eating anything that lives above water, including birds and the like, because they see themselves as spiritual equals to those animals as fellow air breathers.

They are oviparous, and have a specific mating season.

Most Kixeli have multiple variable spawn partners and see it as strange to be nailed down to one. Anyone who participated lays their eggs in a communal tide pool carved out in their communities.

Hatchlings are entirely aquatic wirh gills until later months of age, where they will begin to poke their head above water for air and start interacting more with the adults around them, who feed them a nutritive crop milk as they have already absorbed most of their tail by now.

This period is also the beginning of their understanding of language.

Once they lose their tail and grow in their limbs, they are still mostly helpless until those fully develop and myst cling to a caretaker adult in the community (blood parents don’t necessarily always raise their own children, but as someone who laid eggs they are responsible for children as a caretaker so anyone who didn’t want eggs gets left alone).

During their puberty, they will develop adult skin markings, and some can even end up changing sexes (much for the same reason some of them grow gliding membranes, as the result of population and resources balance in their surroundings).

Speakijg of that, there are two categories of Kixeli in their communities: Kel (swimmer) and Arasit (flier).

Arasit are just a rare continuation of their life cycle, since most Kixeli kids end up growing into Kel adults.

Sometimes, though, an Arasit will develop in case the community strongly needs to seek out new territory over long distance (triggered by close proximity to many other Kixeli and a variety of other unknown gactors, like grasshoppers turnkng into locusts.) They can’t truly fly, but they can use the powerful ocean winds and even some launching technology to glide very far to scout new resources and other communities).

Arasit are highly celebrated as voyagers, but Kel are also valued as providers for their existing community and even accompany voyages on ships to help their Arasit stay alive.

Some Arasit will cut and cauterize their membranes to make it easier for them to swim to symbolize they are staying in the community, though usually, they just poke small holes in there so they can wear clothes and be sanitary.

Their blood uses the hemocyanin molecule to carry oxygen, making their blood a bright blue when oxygenated and a thin blue/clear when unoxygenated (so you can see the other warmish colored pigments in there when it’s inside them, that yellowish stuff)

Their ancestors dwelled in deeper, cooler water where this blood type was most advantageous, but a global warming period brought them up to warm waters and eventually above the surface to capitalize on resources.

During this process, they developed some ways to improve the molecule’s lower efficiency in the heat. For one, they kept a small body size so there’s less to deal with. Another thing is that they get oxygen (albeit a small amount) from all over their body constantly through their skin, also somewhat making up for it.

The main mechanism, though, is their metabolism/temperature. They can quickly adjust their metabolism depending on the oxygen conditions in their surroundings to prevent immediate failure if they don’t have access to the right conditions to otherwise cope (this, and along with hemocyanin’s natural ability to handle low oxygen and their skin breathing, means they can tolerate very low oxygen areas that would cause a human to faint, though they’ll typically be pretty out of commission too, and this can have longer lasting effects on their health from the whiplash.)

they use their surroundings for heat when they aren’t doing anything too strenuous, and because they aren’t really producing much of their own they can tolerate even higher temperatures that would normally put them out of commission (and they actually heavily rely on that heat for ease in a lot of other processes), to do anything that has bigger oxygen needs, they can dip into cooler water/shade for periods of higher activity (but can’t stay too cold for too long or else aforementioned other processes will shut down, though it does increase the effectiveness to the point where they can do a whole lot and allows them to swim/navigate cooler areas where their early competitors couldn’t return to, it only as long as they got back quickly and warmed up)

they basically swing between these two extremes but tend to stay at a warmish middle-ground, wearing heating pads on part of their body while still letting larger areas cool off, if that makes sense.

Hemocyanin’s other properties don’t automatically give them a longer life, in fact theirs is very short compared to other species, but it does make them resistant to cancers (a common threat on their sunny planet) and the spread of diseases in their dense communities

Being cold-blooded wasn’t a problem on their mostly tropical planet. It is a considerable problem once they left it, though, hence the heating pads most wear to warm up.

many also live in areas without a large body of water nearby (or an easy way to access said body of water) but still need to stay damp to maintain their music layer and trap oxygen, so many also carry spray bottles or wet rags with them to always stay damp.

Kixeli are highly social (with their name even roughly translating to "belonging together"). they rarely live in groups of less than 5.

They experience severe negative side effects from isolation. Their naturally intense empathy also makes it extremely damaging for them to see other Kixeli injured or dead, sometimes leading to their own death from shock if they were the one that did it (though this has not stopped wars over their scarce resources in the past, typically because that intense sense of kinship was naturally strongest towards those among their own community, and if Their community was suffering then they had to get rid of the source of it by any means. )

This period nearly drove them to extinction, and led to a Global Community movement that argued for intercommunity cooperation and the end of 'us and them thinking'.

Due to their sliminess, Kixeli normally keep clothing to a minimum and overall don’t have a need for it beyond temperature control and ornamentation.

They have none of their own social taboos about nakedness, having no external genitalia, but still often clothe themselves to the standards of others due to the pressure/need to be polite from other species.

They also have few class divides within their own communities, with everyone working for the good of the whole, and no sex/gender roles beyond squirter and egg layer since everyone cares for the eggs.

To humans, their language sounds like birdsong, with lots of repetitive noises and subtle shifts in pattern and tone.

Their unique vocalization makes their languages hard to learn and even harder to speak, but they themselves are incredible mimics (only surpassed in some ways by humans because lips and teeth).

The fin on their forehead is similar to eyebrows in communicating emotion or tone. They can see a similar color spectrum to humans and love bright contrasting colors similar to their own skin patterns.

They favor “fast food”, or anything that can be carried easily as you swing around in a tree or on a boat.

Payment/restaurants doesn’t really exist for them, they just have areas where food brought in by providers is available to the community (or people just eat what they catch and then bring extra to the community.)

They also don’t chew their food, though some dishes are meant to be squished to the roof of the mouth with the tongue to experience the flavor

Their clothing is often “readable” in that many individuals wear clothing that represents a certain story, event in their life, event in their community, or mythical hero that can be derived from looking at their clothing from the head down.

In the two guys up there, the Arasit is wearing the equivalent of booty shorts cut scantily close to their Hole depicting one version about the founding of the first community (though a simplified one, so it’s actually more like the equivalent of wearing a crop top tee with a little monochrome dog on it or something).

This kind of imagery is common among Arasit, even modern ones, because founding/birth/life are their associations in religious cultures.

The Kel alongside them is wearing a more complex getup meant to show the inciting incident of one of the nomadic communities mythic hero’s journey, when he was cast from the star sea by the wicked Long Arms into the deep sea.

This would be seen as all most goth since this part of the story is seen as eerie and it depicts their underworld along the hem and bracelets.

By wearing clothing associated with a specific figure//story, they can also show gender identity based on whether that figure or hod was male, female, neuther, etc(helping people draw the right conclusions despite the visible evidence of their sex written on all their skin. The clothing and any makeup done on the fin is usually their main reference point for judging how to address someone. )

#alien species #original species #spec evo #worldbuilding #drawing #speculative biology #xenobiology #Kixeli

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talesofadragon · 1 year ago

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𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐥𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Summary: Despite witnessing the death of his mother and being forced to grow under the watch of his Death Eater father, Theodore Nott is living proof that love and care bloom even in the most barren conditions. Maybe, they flourish even more.

Warnings: Allusions to sex

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Pregnant!Reader

Genre: Tooth-rotting fluff

Word count: 4.2K

All Masterlists | Theodore Nott Masterlist

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 he had over his twenty-four years of existence.

His first dream was at the tender age of three after his mother surprised him with a trip to Diagon Alley. When nightfall came, the Sandman put him to sleep, drawing images of the alley's bustling stores and magical people behind his eyelids.

His second dream was at seven years of age. It had been a few years since the loss of his mother, and he had come to terms with the painful reality that her ghost did not linger within the desolate corridors of Nott Manor. But her soul and her memories seemed to still echo in his head.

The third dream was the catalyst that set off a chain reaction, unleashing a plethora of heavenly promises and alternate realities. It marked the beginning of one of the best stories he had ever read and one in which he had serendipitously played a role in curating. It happened when he was fourteen.

Hogwarts was abuzz with excitement as it hosted the renowned Triwizard Tournament. Though he wasn't particularly enthralled by his school and its whimsical attractions, let alone the two other visiting schools participating in the tournament, he had no idea how profoundly this event would impact his life. Everything changed when the girls from Beauxbatons Academy gracefully entered the scene, and amidst them was a certain witch with the most mesmerizing, iridescent eyes that instantly captured his attention.

Y/N Y/L/N—that had been the name of the witch who occupied his dreams for years on end. Though today she was known as Y/N Nott, his remarkably beautiful and majestic wife.

Tonight, just like every other night, Theodore sat on his bed. He would lovingly observe the gentle rise and fall of Y/N's chest as she peacefully slept beside him. In recent times, she often kept one hand tenderly clasping his while the other lovingly cradled her pregnant belly, an undeniable symbol of the beautiful life they were bringing into the world.

And like a magnet calling for the metal, Theodore’s hands would always wander to the life they had created, astounded by the little flutters he felt both against his palms and in his heart.

Y/N truly was his dream. And she was entirely his.

“Why are you not sleeping?” she murmured without prior notice, prompting Theodore to look at her. Her eyes were barely open, tiredness dominating her every feature.

Theodore was cautious not to engage in conversation with her, not wanting to risk waking her from her peaceful slumber. Instead, he propped himself up on one elbow, using his free hand to gently play with her hair. He lovingly brushed away the stray locks that caressed her face and used his index finger to twirl some of the strands. A playful smirk adorned his lips, knowing that the action almost always lulled Y/N into an undisturbed sleep—and he could already see her eyes fluttering shut.

But then, she abruptly shook her head, forcing her eyes to open.

“Y/N,” Theodore chastised, giving her a pointed look.

“Theo,” she replied, drawing out the last vowel.

Theodore snorted at her antics, and for some reason, he recalled the lazy days he spent with her in his bed at Hogwarts in the years following her transfer to the school.

She shifted closer to Theodore’s side—maybe she thought that moving around might sober her up. She cupped his face, angling it closer to hers. “Why are you awake?”

“I’m just thinking, butterfly.” He shook his head with a subtle laugh, his hands caressing her lips and pulling her bottom lip down. He only released it when he was sure her pout would mold into a relaxed smile.

“About?”

“Us three.”

Theodore observed the puzzled expression taking over his wife's features. She blinked owlishly while languidly processing his words. As his thumb gently brushed against her pregnant belly, her gaze shifted downward, and a melodious giggle escaped her lips.

“What about us three?”

“Nothing in specific,” he replied, grinning like a Cheshire cat. He already swooned whenever Y/N used the word “us.” But to hear it accompanied by a number that reflected a product of their ardent devotion? It filled his heart with love.

“I’m sleepy, Theo. Be specific, please.”

Merlin, Theo smiled. If this is a dream, I hope it lasts forever.

“I’m just really happy, Y/N,” Theodore elaborated.

Y/N mirrored the winsome smile that he radiated. She leaned in closer, positioning herself between his legs with her knees firmly planted on the mattress. Tilting her head to the right, Theodore's attention wandered between the still-visible hickeys on her neck, which had yet to fade away since two nights prior, and her lovely little belly.

“I want to straddle you,” she said after putting both her hands on his broad shoulders. “But I’m too big, and I can’t figure out a comfortable position that doesn’t involve me squishing you.”

Theodore’s uproarious laughter flooded the entire room. He found it both amusing and ludicrous that Y/N would think that. Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her toward him until his chest cushioned her back, and his hands wrapped nicely and securely around her middle.

“This is my favorite position.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at her husband’s remark. “Huh. Since when did Cowgirl stop being your favorite?”

“Y/N.” Theodore rolled his eyes. He buried his head in her neck, teasingly biting her. She giggled, trying to push him away. “No straddling, riding, or exerting yourself while pregnant.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Theodore deadpanned. “Go back to sleep, butterfly. Not getting enough sleep is bad for the baby.”

“But how can I sleep when my baby is awake?”

“Is he now?” One of Theodore’s hands combed through Y/N’s hair while the other rubbed soothing circles on her belly.

The placid movements made her eyes flutter, but she blinked away the exhaustion at once. “Not my little prince,” she whispered. Her eyes landed on Theodore. “My little king.”

Pink dusted Theodore's cheeks in response to the comment. He had never realized how much he yearned for even the tiniest and most tender displays of affection until Y/N entered his life.

He basked in her warm words, bumping his nose gently with hers. “I love you. But I will love you even more if you get some rest.”

Y/N pouted. And Merlin, it was physically impossible for Theodore to do anything but smile at her reaction. “Not before you do.” She glared at him, and he held her gaze. A moment passed, then two, and then three. An errant yawn escaped Y/N's mouth, and she unintentionally blinked. She inwardly reprimanded herself at the realization. “Let me read you a story then.”

“A story?” Theodore asked amusedly.

“Hmm. It’s good practice for when the baby comes.”

“No, Y/N.” Theodore shook his head. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“I’m not trying to do anything,” Y/N shrugged innocently.

“Lying little witch.”

“Overprotective big oaf.”

“Oaf, you say?” Theodore raised an eyebrow while Y/N laughed. “Alright, you’ve done it.”

Instantly, Theodore flipped her over, making her back softly land on the mattress. He tickled her ever so gently, planting kisses all over her neck, cheeks, and body, eliciting delightful giggles from her until she let out that long, familiar sigh of contentment. Within minutes, she had drifted into a peaceful slumber, leaving him to gaze affectionately at her and the beautiful life they had created together.

As soon as Y/N’s eyes opened, Theodore's absence from the bed struck her, followed by the unnaturally quiet atmosphere around her room. She planted her elbow on the mattress, and with great effort, though she would never admit it, propped herself up and gazed at her surroundings.

The magical clock on the wall marked eight-thirty in the morning, and Y/N found it odd that Theodore was nowhere in sight. He rarely left her alone, especially since she became pregnant, hardly giving her a minute by herself.

Deciding not to think much of it, she slipped her slippers on and, unceremoniously, made her way out of bed. She was about to call for her husband when the smell of eggs and grilled cheese permeated the air. Her hurried steps echoed through the house as she dashed toward the kitchen.

“You’re making breakfast?”

“Y/N!” Theodore whipped his head in surprise, flying pans and floating juice surrounding him. “I told you to call me if you need anything. Especially if you want to walk down the stairs!”

Y/N completely brushed off his comment, eyes lighting up as one of the spatulas scrambled the eggs. “I’ll set the table.”

“Woah, woah, woah. You’re not doing that.”

“It’s no trouble, really,” she replied, looking down at the arm that blocked her way.

“Y/N—”

"Setting up the table will not break my back, Theo! I can do things even though I’m pregnant."

"I know, Y/N. I know." At this point, it was evident that Y/N's mounting frustration was reaching a tipping point. Theodore had to tread carefully with his words to avoid making her cry or, worse, giving her a reason to ignore him. "It's just that I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed. And, you kind of ruined it."

Y/N's big doe eyes locked onto her husband, a hint of calculation shimmering in her irises, revealed by the tilt of her head. As she placed both hands on her belly, Theodore's composed demeanor couldn't hide his concern and attentiveness.

He never enjoyed seeing Y/N upset, especially when she was pregnant. The mere thought of an upset Y/N during her pregnancy made him uncomfortable.

However, her giggle dispelled all his doubts, and a wave of relief washed over him. Still, his heart felt like it was dunked in the frozen waters of the Black Lake when he saw her skipping ahead, confidently navigating the stairs.

"I can fix it!"

"Y/N! What did I say about the stairs?"

"That I can't walk down the stairs by myself," she cheekily replied, holding onto the railing tightly. His heart clenched just as tightly as he watched her.

"Stay where you are, I'm coming,” Theodore announced.

“Uh-uh-uh. I’m climbing those steps myself, and if you even think about helping me, you won’t be coming until a year after this baby’s born.”

Theodore scoffed, “Don’t threaten me with sex, Y/N. It’s not going to work.”

“I said you won’t be coming, Theo darling," she pointed out matter-of-factly with a wicked grin. Sometimes, it didn't take much to remember that she was sorted into the House of Snakes. "I never mentioned sex.”

Theodore glared at his wife, his tongue poking his cheek. She won. And she knew it.

“One step at a time.”

With a quick wink, she resumed her way up the staircase, calling over her shoulders, “The baby wants strawberries, and I want grapes. Can you fix something, my love?”

“Get in bed safely first, and then I’ll see if you can get your fruits.”

Y/N waved at him from the threshold of their open bedroom door. Once he was sure she was inside, he cursed under his breath. Though, his smile never wavered and only turned into the biggest grin when he started chopping grapes and strawberries.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

Theodore stood proudly, attempting to hide his uncertainty behind a facade of confidence. He wore an expression that asserted, “I am perfectly capable of baking a cake for my wife.”

The chaotic ambiance in the kitchen begged to differ.

The room seemed to be the battlefield from the Third Wizarding War with flour scattered everywhere, eggshells haphazardly discarded on a plate, and cake batter splattered on once-pristine beige walls.

Perched on the bar stool, Y/N attempted to mask her chortle behind the book in her hands. It was a good thing that Theodore was too busy opening and closing cabinets to notice her amusement.

“Theo, my love. I know pureblood Slytherins struggle to admit defeat, but maybe it’s time you retire that apron you’re wearing and let me take care of this cake.”

“Absolutely not,” Theodore refuted with a little too much vigor. The spatula in his hand swayed to the right, causing a generous amount of batter to land on the side of Y/N’s face. “Oh, Merlin! Y/N, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I swear I didn’t mean it!”

Y/N’s nose scrunched in disgust when Theodore approached her side. He cupped her cheeks, but she briskly swatted his hands away. His heart broke, and he stepped back with dimmed hazel eyes.

“You utter nincompoop, Theodore Nott!” With a horrified expression, Theodore watched Y/N rush to the sink and splash her face with water. A goblet of cold water came flying to her hands after she snapped her fingers, and she gulped it down at once. “That smelled foul! I don’t want to imagine how it tastes. Throw that bowl away. Right now.”

He did so immediately. He looked down at the gooey mixture, stifling a scowl. “Maybe it’s better if I buy a cake.”

“Or, hear me out. I should make one.”

“You’re not exerting yourself.”

“Theodore, darling. Baking a cake is a breeze. It’s you who struggles to even boil water.”

“I don’t struggle to boil water,” Theodore grimaced. One look from Y/N, and he was left evaluating his response. His eyes wandered to the slight mess he had created in the kitchen and then to his pouting wife, who looked absolutely ethereal with her round belly. He was starting to cave. Damn, that witch. “No! Don’t look at me like that. I’m getting you a cake. One you’re not making.”

“But—”

“No buts. In fact, I’m going right now,” Theodore said in a rushed tone. He knew that if he even looked at her for one second longer, he couldn’t remember what letters formed the word “no.” He immediately summoned his keys, placing them in his pockets. “I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t touch anything, don’t worry about anything. Just… breathe. Yeah, butterfly?”

Y/N blinked, gazing at her husband. “You too?” she replied unsurely.

Theodore gave her a quick, though impassioned, kiss that almost made her forget where she was and what they were talking about. His hand went to rub the curve of her belly, and she cursed those stupid hormones that made her whimper.

Dazed, she watched as Theodore fetched his coat. He sent her a languid smile, and then, he dashed out of the house and apparated promptly. As soon as she heard the apparition crack, it was like the “Nott Enchantment” was lifted off her, and she could see everything around her much more clearly.

She turned on her heels, carefully studying her kitchen. With a devious grin, she rushed to grab her wand and immediately pointed it at the counter. “Wingardium Leviosa.” The utensils simultaneously launched into the air, followed by the eggshells and the other ingredients on the counter.

Y/N cleared the surface quite easily, directing whatever needed washing to the sink, which was already filling with soap and water, and disposing of the trash. Scourgify was at the tip of her tongue, but deciding that she wanted to revel in her rebellion a little more, she tucked away her wand and pulled the cleaning supplies from the storage.

Immediately, she put on the pink rubber gloves, which Theodore never quite fancied, flexing her fingers in the air and picturing the look of sheer terror on her husband’s face. She poured the surface cleaner on a cloth and began disinfecting the kitchen.

Slowly, but surely, the abysmal smell—courtesy of Theodore’s extraterrestrial baking skills—was replaced with the fresh scent of pine and vanilla. Y/N inhaled these scents, labeling them as one of freedom. Even her baby seemed happier, vehemently kicking her belly and bouncing around.

It didn’t take long before everything was clean. Satisfied, Y/N placed the cleaning supplies under the sink and started putting back the clean utensils. Though, her peace was disturbed by a loud pop.

She shrieked, placing one hand atop her mouth and the other on her belly when it dawned on her that there was now a little less light inside her home than there was a second before.

Looking up, she exhaled a sharp breath when she realized that one of the ceiling’s light bulbs was out.

“It’s a good thing your father isn’t here, my little prince,” Y/N whispered, gently caressing her belly. “He probably would’ve apparated us to the moon, thinking it was a Death Eater or something.”

Once more, she felt her stomach fluttering as her baby’s little kick brought a smile to her face. She couldn’t help but feel grateful that her little boy seemed to be inheriting her sense of humor, and she silently thanked the stars that he might just be a lot less uptight than Theodore.

Merlin seemed to be on her side too, egging her on and encouraging her little streak of rebellion. Without giving it much thought, Y/N rushed to the electrical panel by the kitchen’s wall and spotted the room’s switch.

When they had first moved, Theodore was particularly concerned about muggle electricity, swearing that it was an anti-wizard mechanism that would electrocute them if they came near it. Y/N didn’t believe him. But because she loved him too much to see him losing his precious hair over this trivial matter, she did indulge in his absurdity and kept herself away from the panel.

After her curiosity got the best of her, she decided to ask Fleur, a friend from Beauxbatons and Bill Weasley's wife, about electricity. Knowing that Mr. Weasley, Fleur's father-in-law, had a fascination with muggle devices and technologies, she figured Fleur might have some insights. Additionally, Hermione, Fleur's sister-in-law, being a muggleborn, likely knew a thing or two about it as well.

To her relief, Fleur reassured her that electricity wasn't half as bad as Theodore had made it out to be. With the kitchen switch turned off, Y/N could easily change the light bulb without any risks.

She grabbed her wand, pointed it up, and carefully removed the old bulb. Just as she was almost done placing the new one, she felt a hand snatch away her wand and another grab her waist.

Y/N gasped, feeling herself being pushed against the wall. Her breath was knocked out of her lungs, her eyes peering up in horror until they landed on familiar hazel irises that looked anything but warm.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Her annoyed voice mixed with Theodore’s sharp one. She pushed him away from her just as he threw her wand across the room. It clattered on the floor, the noise accompanying Theodore’s labored breath.

“I told you not to do anything!”

“Well, I wasn’t doing anything!”

“You were playing with that muggle death trap, Y/N! All while being pregnant!”

“Oh, get off your rocker, Nott! I turned the electrical switch off before changing the lightbulb,” Y/N argued, gesturing toward the electrical panel.

It was obviously a mistake given how Theodore's face turned as white as snow, and the trembling in his fingers signaled the storm of emotions building within him, about to erupt. “You touched Frank Benjamin’s apparatus of doom?!”

“What?” Y/N made a face after a moment of silence and confusion.

“Did you touch that thing?” Theodore asked, pointing at the panel.

“Yes.”

“Are you mental?”

“I’m starting to think I am after two years of being married to you!”

“Don’t change the subject!”

“Who the bloody hell is Frank Benjamin even?”

“I told you not to change the subject!” Theodore warned.

Y/N was this close to slapping her husband’s obnoxiously handsome face. “You are being awfully dramatic, Theo. Just because Draco told you and Blaise that electricity is a torture device developed by muggles doesn’t mean it’s true!”

“Oh, yeah.” Theodore crossed his arms. Surprisingly, now that Y/N could see the pink and purple paper bag from her favorite bakery in his arms, her husband looked a lot more cute than intimidating. “How’d you know that?”

“I asked Fleur,” she deadpanned. “Oh, and would you look at that? I’m still alive! Looks like Frank Benjamin did a lousy job.”

“We do not say his name in this household, Y/N!” Theodore insisted while stepping closer. He seemingly noticed the bag he was yet to discard in his hands. He placed it on the counter and turned to his wife before he froze in his place. “You cleaned the house?!”

Y/N flung her arms in the air at her husband’s callousness. “Yes! And with those pink gloves you hate so much!”

“I told you not to do anything. I left you for ten minutes!”

“I wish you left me for more. Maybe then I would’ve been able to do the one thing I need more than anything.”

“Which is?” Theodore scoffed.

“Breathe!”

Following her outburst, Y/N’s hand came to rest on her hip while the other landed on her heart. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let the oxygen flow inside her lungs.

When her eyes fluttered open, the tension that inundated the air slipped. And meeting her on the other side was her Theodore with warm hazel irises and outstretched hands.

“Come here.” He gestured with arms wide open. Y/N dove into his embrace. She had gotten quite better at accommodating her large belly in Theodore’s bear hugs. “I’m sorry if I've been frustrating lately. I just… I just want you to be safe and happy, Y/N. Both of you.”

“We are, Theo. With you, we always are,” Y/N assured him. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she buried her face deeper into her husband’s clothes. His scent invaded her senses, and she had to admit defeat against her hormones.

“Hey. Look at me, butterfly.”

Y/N lifted her tear-stained face. She wanted to let Theodore know it was just her hormones and that there was nothing to worry about, but any modicum of common sense evaporated as soon as Theodore started kissing away the tears.

She exhaled in delight, relishing in the feel of her husband’s lips against her skin. His touch was delicate and ephemeral, yet it left a trail of anticipation and ardor in its way.

“Theo,” Y/N murmured. She cupped his face, her thumb gliding gently over his stubbled jaw. “I love you.”

“You can never love me more than I love you, Y/N Nott," he admitted, caressing her neck, specifically her pulse point. "And maybe, it’s because my affection knows no bounds that I’ve crossed the line from being protective to becoming overbearing. And for that, I truly am sorry.”

Y/N’s heart swelled with affection at his heartfelt words, leaving her momentarily speechless. “I forgive you,” she replied, planting a soft kiss on his neck. Theodore's lashes fluttered in response to her touch. “And thank you for admitting this out loud. I know it must’ve been hard.”

“Oh, it’s not the only thing that’s hard right now.”

“Theo!” Y/N guffawed loudly. She playfully slapped his chest, but he quickly caught her wrists and nuzzled his face in her neck, nipping her sensitive skin. “Stop being promiscuous. I’d like to peacefully eat my cake, please!”

“Why have a cake, Y/N? When I can make you the most fantastic cream pie. It’s going to leave you craving for more,” Theodore whispered huskily in her ear, going as far as licking her earlobe and sucking it gently.

Y/N gnawed at her lower lip, already feeling herself surrendering to Theodore. Curse those stupid hormones and all the times she teased him with sex. Must he retaliate, too? How did they even get to this point?

“After the cake, Theo. Our baby is hungry.”

Theodore stopped then, pressing a soft kiss to Y/N’s temple. He grasped her hand, beaming when she interlaced their fingers together. He watched her as she giddily reached for the strawberry cheesecake he had gotten her, plating two slices, and taking the biggest one for herself.

“This is really good.”

“Better than my cream pie?” Theodore wiggled his eyebrows. He laughed and ducked out of the way of a flying strawberry, effortlessly catching it before it hit the ground. “You missed, my love.”

“Don’t you ‘love’ me, Theodore Nott!” Y/N pointedly addressed him. It was hard to take her seriously with the crumbs on the side of her mouth. "One more sexual innuendo and I'm naming our child Frank Benjamin."

"Absolutely not!" Theodore scowled. He took a bite from his own cake, looking back thoughtfully at his wife. "Though if you do indulge in my cream pie, I'll let you tell Draco and Blaise that we are considering naming our child Frank Benjamin."

Y/N's eyes lit up like a thousand stars twinkling in the night sky, and Theodore couldn't help but feel a euphoric swarm of butterflies dancing in his soul, bringing an overwhelming sense of happiness and warmth to his heart. Her radiant joy illuminated the room, and at that moment, he knew that her happiness was all he ever needed in this world.

Thank you to the lovely nonny who suggested this prompt💚 I hope I did it justice. I always knew that I will be writing for Theo Nott sooner or later, and I'm glad to have started with this piece.

Thank you to everyone who sent me requests; there are loads of Theo fics I'm working on, and I hope to release them as this year progresses.

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott x y/n #theodore nott x pregnant reader #dad!theo nott #dad!theodore nott #overprotective theodore nott #harry potter fanfiction #theo nott #theo nott imagine #theo nott x you

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peachessndreamss · 11 months ago

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Filled With Grace

Summery : High Septon Aemond request a private audience with a hight born lady the night before her wedding.

Characters : High Septon! Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Warnings : Dub Con, power imbalance, coercion, heavy religious themes & behaviors, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, unprotected p in v sex, corruption, loss of virginity, dacryhilia (if you squint), alcohol consumption, cannon divergent

Word count : 8 k

A/N : No one asked for this but it happened, also sorry in advance, sorry for what? sorry for everything. While English is my first language I'm also profoundly dyslexic, I've done my best to minimise spelling and grammar issues but I'm there still are plenty.

When Aemond Targaryen lost his eye he thought the worst of it was the scar but it turned out in the days and weeks after the incident, the cost kept mounting. Finding his father couldn’t look at him had been hard to take and they no longer spent the evenings together reading the histories, studying the great campaigns of ancient kings and speaking high Valeryian.

The last time his father truly looked at him was the night he sat the boy Aemond down and told him he was going into the service of the Seven. With his injury he could no longer be trusted to defend his brother’s weaker side in battle or in Kingship, and so it had been decided by the small council that he would be handed over to the Septons and be trained in the Faith. He was sent across the city and into the tall towers of Baelor's Great Sept.

When he wasn’t in training, or studying he would sit by the window and stare back across to the Red Keep, where his family continued to live their lives without him.

In the early days there was heartbreak, longing and grief, as Aemond spent more time at the Sept the pain turned to anger, his heart hardened and his soul blackened. Still as studious as ever he studied hard, learnt the words and the rituals and felt nothing.

At the age of 20 he moved back across the city, back into the Red Keep as the self-styled High Septon of the Red Keep. Despite his outward devotion to the Faith he opted to keep the name his family had given him, he believed his injury and his family’s reaction had stolen enough from him but they would not take his name.

In the 7 years that followed his return Aemond had manoeuvred himself from returning outcast to centre of all courtly life. His mother, who ruled in his sickly fathers place, relied on him constantly, looking to him for guidance in both spiritual and worldly matters and while he didn’t sit on the Small Council nothing happened in the room that he wasn’t already aware of.

He was the beating heart and soul of the Red Keep, the spiritual leader who blessed and condemned as he saw fit. He quickly learned his religious titles protected him from suspicion, so when a body turned up in the Red Keep with a broken neck or floating in the bay he was above reproach, regardless of any known animosities or feuds. He learnt being irreproachable had many benefits and he began to explore the possibilities now open to him.

Aemond was 23 years old the first time he'd had a high born maiden come to him before her wedding night, the first time had been less about the pleasures of the flesh and more about pushing the boundaries of the Lady who’d come to him as a willing sacrifice. The first time taught him that silence could be bought with loyalty and the promise of absolution, and if those two things weren’t enough, he always had fear.

Aemond occupied the highest tower of the Red Keep, three floors of round rooms stacked one on top the other. The lowest level was his Sept where the faithful came for his blessings, confession, where his mother lit candles and prayed and where she would ask him to translate the signs and symbols she saw everywhere and claimed were messages from the Gods.

The second floor were his audience rooms, official rooms where he might entertain visiting Septon’s or Lords who felt themselves in particular need of spiritual guidance.

The highest level was Aemond’s personal chambers, kept in semi-darkness at all times, the stone walls were dressed in rich tapestries and the large bed hung with blood red curtains. This was his innermost sanctum, the space that bore witness to Aemond’s true self and was the place he brought the high born Lady’s before their wedding day.

Tonight the room was set for such an event. The fire was burning in the hearth but all other lights had been extinguished. Goblets of deep red wine were sitting on the table, as well as a plate of sweets and cakes, in case she had a sweet tooth. Aemond knew the Lady who'd be visiting tonight, she'd been fostered at the Red Keep since her 12th name day and had grown up under the watchful eye of queen Alicent. Tomorrow she would marry Lord Tullly and the day after she would leave the Red Keep forever to take up her new role as lady of Riverrun, but tonight she belonged to him.

The knock on her chamber door was quiet but unmistakable, it helped that the lady had been waiting for it. Sitting at her dressing table, her back ramrod straight while trying to make sense of her flickering reflection in the warped surface of the mirror. Tomorrow was her wedding day, but tonight she had an audience with High Septon Aemond.

When she had first come to the Red Keep she had been under the protection of Queen Alicent, who she had followed around like a lost lamb until she was 15 and had been passed into the service of her daughter, Helaena, who she had served as a handmaiden while she waited for her father to broker a good enough marriage deal.

The deal had now been struck, the payments made and contracts for lands, livestock and men signed and sealed. All that was left was the wedding and due to her close status to the royal family, no expense was spared, her wedding gown had been trimmed with silver and gold threads and beaded with thousands of tiny river pearls. She had wept the first time she’d seen it from the sheer beauty of the garment and after that moment she had willed every day to pass faster so she could wear it.

The High Septon of the Red Keep called all high born brides to his tower the night before their weddings, and while the reason was never overtly discussed, the older ladies of the Red Keep would share knowing looks and speak in innuendo around the younger ladies, lording their superior knowledge and understanding over the young and naive.

But she had found by listening carefully both to the older women of the court and the giggling gossip of the serving women she’d come to the conclusion that she would be expected to give a private confession to the High Septon. Confession was usually a fairly private matter, with all people of all status expected to unburden themselves to their Septons but without further clarity she was left wondering what made these pre-wedding confessions something so hushed up and rarely talked of.

“Enter” she called softly, turning from her reflection toward the door.

A small serving girl stepped into the room, dressed in the same drab dress as all the other serving women and her hair covered with a square of the same fabric, she looked as indistinct as any other of the small folk serving in the Red Keep.

“High Septon Aemond ‘as asked to see you, milady,” the serving girl said softly, her eyes cast downward as she spoke, “I'm t’take you to ‘im,”.

The lady nodded and stood from the stool at her dressing table, she had known the summons were coming and so she’d not undressed from that night's celebration dinner. She was still wearing a deep blue silk gown, edged with silver threads and her hair was still twisted in its elaborate crown braid that had taken over an hour to arrange.

While the dress and the hair were elaborate, they were still modest enough for the act of contrition she assumed she was going too.

The serving girl stepped back and turned, moving silently down the corridor and the lady followed, wishing her own steps were as silent as they moved through the dark building, even in her silk slippers she could hear her footsteps and the swish of the fabric of her dress.

Despite living in the red keep for almost 10 years she could count on one hand the amount of times she'd been in the same room as Aemond Targaryen, he didn't waste his time on high born ladies under normal circumstances. The only women he ever seemed to speak with were his mother and his sister, she couldn’t be sure she’s ever even met his gaze, let alone have spoken with him.

At the foot of the high tower the serving girl opened a heavy door and led them up a tightly twisting set of stairs. They passed two doors on the twisting staircase before they reached the top and the final door. The serving girl knocked twice before melting back into the darkness of the stairwell.

A voice from within bid her enter and with trembling hands she pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold.

The room was so dark it took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust, still barely able to make out the shapes in the darkness but a rustle of fabric and a small movement drew her eye and from the blackness he appeared.

He didn’t wear Septon’s robes, instead he dressed every inch the royal son he was, in tight black trousers and a black high collared tunic, he was covered from neck to toe in tight black fabric that looked as close to his body as his own skin. His silver hair was tied back from his face and he wore a patch over his ruined eye. His good eye fixed on her, the indigo of it lost in the darkness so that it appeared to be a blackhole instead.

“My Lady,” he greeted, bowing deeply before straightening up and fixing his gaze on her face.

“Your Royal Highness,” she replied, dipping her knees in a curtsey, averting her eyes from his face, “I am your servant,” she added.

He moved toward her, his steps slow and deliberate, immediately the image of a stalking predator came to mind and her heartbeat quickened.

“Will you sit?” he asked, indicating the two chairs set close to the fire, a low table between them holding two filled wine goblets and a plate of small fruit tarts, the exact same that would be served at her wedding banquet tomorrow.

“If it pleases,” she replied, moving toward the chairs and stepping into the circle of flickering light cast by the fire.

“It does,” Aemond replied, taking the seat nearest to where he was standing and furthest from the light. He relaxed deeply into the seat, crossing one ankle over the other knee, one of his long arms stretching away from his body and toward the table, the tips of his fingers caressing the thin stem of the wine glass.

She followed his lead and sat, keeping her back straight and tall, crossing her feet at the ankles under the full skirts of her dress and letting her legs fall together against the arm of the chair in the way she'd been taught since she was old enough to sit in the company of others.

“Eat and drink, if you like,” Aemond said softly, despite the softness in his tone the invitation felt dangerous.

But she had been raised in the Queen’s household and had impeccable manners, she offered him a small smile and thanked him before lifting the goblet to her lips and taking a small sip. The wine was rich and strong, the scent of it alone causing her head to spin.

Aemond never took his eye from her, taking in the details of this high lady who he planned to bring so low. He noted the gloss on her lips from the wine, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she fought to master her heartbeat and the wide eyed look of fear on her pretty face which went straight between his thighs and caused his cock to strain against his trousers.

“Do you know why you’re here my Lady?” Aemond asked after she’d shakily returned the wine glass to the table.

“For confession?” she replied, her eyes flicking toward his face for a second before looking away again after meeting his burning gaze.

“To confess,” Aemond agreed, “and to meet with god,” he added softly, running his long fingers up the stem of the wine glass and cupping the curve of the bowl before bringing it to his mouth and taking a drink.

Aemond took a slow drink, running the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip before taking a shallow breath and placing the goblet back down on the table. The silence in the room was heavy, it deafened and roared at the same time and she was acutely aware of the sounds of her breathing and pounding heart.

“My Lady, the hour is late,” Aemond spoke, “why are you still dressed for banqueting?”

She glanced down at herself, the silver beads and stitching of the deep blue dress caught in the flickering fire light and she could feel every place the fabric touched her body.

“I didn’t want to be in a state of undress when you called for me, my Prince,” she replied.

Aemond chuckled softly, “So you knew you’d be summoned to me tonight?” he mused, “and how did you know?”.

In that moment she could have bitten her own tongue off to avoid saying anything further, how could she tell the truth without causing trouble for herself and the other ladies in waiting, gossip was considered below them, despite the fact that it made up a good majority of their days.

“It’s known,” she started before her voice stalled, she squirmed in her seat under the heat of his gaze, “that’s to say, some of the other ladies who’ve been married have mentioned they had a private audience with you,”.

Aemond nodded, while he outwardly gave no sign, he was privately elated, the more that people whispered and told stories of him the more they would fear him and the more power he would have over them. He would have to try and learn the details of the gossip and whispers, and if necessary change the narrative.

“I trust that what passes between us tonight will stay between us?” he asked, taking another drink, enjoying the rich and heady taste.

“Of course my Prince,” she agreed readily and he nodded.

A silence fell between them again, if she strained her ears she could just hear the sounds of the city, as distant as a dream from the covered windows. She dragged her attention back to the man in the room and she looked at him from under her lashes, not wanting to get caught staring. The flickering firelight cast his features in strong relief, his jaw and cheekbones looked like twin blades edging his face.

“In the eyes of the Gods,” Aemond started, his indigo eye fixed on the fire, “we’re born naked, we live naked and we die naked. They see and hear all of our sins, even the sins we never speak of, or act on, they know them and they judge us for them. We are never beyond the sight of the Gods,”.

“Of course, High Septon Aemond,” she replied, choosing to use his religious title as she felt the subtle change in him as he went from prince entertaining a guest to High Septon preparing for holy work.

“And while they sit in judgement of us, I have the power to forgive sins, to wipe clean the slate of any man or woman who is willing to ask for forgiveness,”.

Aemond turned his eye to her, catching her watching him, his gaze burning.

“My Lady,” Aemond turned his face from the fire toward her, “are you willing to ask for forgiveness tonight? To confess your sins and be cleansed?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I will,”.

He took a deep breath and nodded, a small smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

“Then stand, my Lady, and you will confess as the God’s see you,” he paused for a tense second, “naked,”.

A chill ran up her spine despite the heat of the fire. Although she had expected to be called to him she had not known what he would want when she was there, she’d had no idea he’d expect her to undress, and if he expected that what else might he expect?

“My Prince, this gown is difficult to remove,” she spoke quickly, her heart thumping in her chest, “I’m sure the God’s will understand if I remain clothed,”.

“Stand,” Aemond commanded, and as if touched by a white hot poker she jumped from the seat and stood like marble, her eyes fixed on the prince.

“Gowns can be removed, repaired if necessary,” he said as he stood and stalked toward her, pulling a small blade from a concealed pocket at his hip, “your confession will not be complete unless you are as you were born,”.

He moved toward her and with a single strong shove he pushed the heavy chair she’d been sitting in out of the way and brought himself behind her. His breath was warm on the back of her neck, his left hand caressed her left arm.

“Please, my Prince,” she whispered as she sensed the movement of the right hand which held the blade.

He took a steadying breath before sliding the blade beneath the silk ribbon that held the back of the dress closed, with only a little pressure the blade slipped through each twist of silver silk and the dress began to open, exposing the bright white shift underneath. She had made a small sound of protest but had gone silent. While the blade never touched the thin fabric of her shift she could feel the coolness of the metal and imagine the sharpness of the blade.

The prince dropped the blade and used both his hands to pull the gown wider and push it off her shoulders, the weight of the skirt and the beading of the bodice dragged it down, slipping down her arms and off her hands. It landed in a pool of deep, glittering blue around her calves.

“Better,” Aemond breathed, stepping back a little and admiring her trembling body.

“If it pleases you,” she had to fight to keep her voice calm, tears pricked at her eyes and burned in the back of her throat.

Perhaps this would be as far as he took it, perhaps this was bear enough for him. Perhaps she could confess in her underclothes and be gone, but she only believed this for a second as she felt him take two strong handfuls of the neck of her shift and rip them viciously apart.

The soft fabric gave easily and ripped clearly down the middle, exposing her back and buttocks to him, again he gave the garment a soft shove over her shoulders and watched as it fell around her legs, landing on top of her gown like a blanket of snow.

“Oh it pleases me a great deal,” he said, stepping around her, caressing her arm as he came to stand in front of her, letting his eye travel up and down her body.

He took hold of her hand and lifted it before giving her a gentle tug, unable to disobey, she stepped forward out of the mess of fabric and further into the golden light of the fire. The only thing she wore now were the soft silk slippers.

Aemond studied her, the curve of her hips and buttocks, the softness of her stomach, the swell of her breasts that were topped with nipples several shades darker than her skin. As he watched gooseflesh crawled across her body, tightening her nipples into tight little points that he longed to reach out and pinch. SHe kept her face turned down and Aemond was transfixed by the curve of her cheek and the spiky shadows of her eyelashes.

She felt as if his gaze was burning and freezing her at the same time, every part of her body was exposed to him and he looked at her without shame. No man had ever seen her in such a state. She had been taught her nakedness was for her husband and for him alone but now she was being looked on by her High Septon, her prince, and his eyes were devouring her body, claiming something that shouldn’t belong to him.

“You are the Maiden incarnate,” he whispered as he dropped her hand and brought his fingertips to her chin. Lifting her head so he could look at her face. Though she still fought them she couldn’t help the tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes or the tremble in her bottom lip.

“You might look like Her,” he started, his eye flicking to a small image of the Maiden he kept by the fire before returning his gaze to her, “but you are only human and therefore a sinner,” Aemond added with a sigh, as if disappointed to remember the woman before him was human and not divine, “so kneel,”.

“My Prince?” she questioned, the humiliation was already beyond what she thought she could survive but apparently he had more in his heart.

“Confession is given on your knees,” he explained calmly, “and so you must kneel,” he moved his hand from her chin to her shoulder, where he applied gentle pressure.

She allowed her knees to bend and buckle beneath her, dropping onto the thick carpet. Aemond felt his cock throb as her breasts bounced with the impact, he fought the intense and dark urge to force his cock into her mouth, instead he took a deep breath and placed his hand on the top of her head.

“Under the watchful eye of the seven, I hear your confession,”.

Aemond spoke the words he learned as a boy during his time in the High Sept. Confession had already fascinated him as a child and he’d hardly dared believe that people would willingly tell him the darkest secrets of their hearts.

“Under the watchful eye of the Seven, I give my confession,” she choked out, words she’d learnt as a small child and said hundreds of times in her life before now, but never like this.

“I, I confess to having cruel thoughts about others,” her voice cracked as she repeated another line she’s said a hundred times before to Septon after Septon. Aemond, with his eye closed and his hand still resting on the top of her head nodded.

“Go on,”.

“And I’ve told lies,”

“And, and, and,” she stumbled over her words, “I confess to having impure thoughts about men at court,”.

Aemond felt a throb between his thighs, this is what he’d been hoping for.

“What thoughts my lady?”.

“Thoughts of what it would be like to couple with them,”.

Aemond nodded benevolently and opened his eye, his gaze soft and loving as he watched the woman on her knees.

“That’s to be expected, as a bride in waiting,”.

“This is my confession,” she whispered.

The tears in her eyes blurred her vision but she nodded, her resolve strengthened now she’d done what he’d asked. Aemond nodded again and closed his eye, turning his face upward and addressing the air above their heads.

“The watchful eye of the Seven have heard your confession and I, High Septon Aemond Targaryen of the Red Keep, forgive your sins,”.

She gave out a shuddering breath as a tear slowly tracked down her cheek. She had survived, she had done as she was told and she was forgiven her sins.

His hand moved from the top of her head and he offered it to her, she took it and allowed him to support her back to her feet. She couldn't look at his face but instead her eyes focused on the floor at his feet. Again he moved his fingertips to her chin and lifted her face.

“You did very well my Lady,” he said softly as he stroked his finger down the curve of her cheek. Despite the warmth from the fire his fingers were like ice on her skin, “and now, you will take God inside you,”.

Her brows furrowed in confusion as a chill ran down her spine. Surely he couldn’t be talking about bedding her? Looking at her naked body was one thing but to give her maidenhead to him the night before her wedding was unthinkable but before she could voice any resistance he gently took her hand and led her toward the bed.

She moved as he directed her, unwilling but unable to resist him. The bed loomed, dark and foreboding in the centre of the room, she’d been able to ignore it up until now. As they moved closer she noticed the hangings and the coverings were a deep blood red, edged with black.

Aemond brought them to the foot of the bed, placing her so the back of her knees knocked against the bedframe and the plush bed sheets brushed against the bare backs of her thighs.

Aemond stroked her cheek again before brushing the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip.

“You've got nothing to be scared of my Lady, don't you want to know the Gods in the most intimate way possible?”.

“Please my Lord,” she whispered, “l mean, I- I mean, my Prince,Your Highness, please,” she stumbled over her words, them coming out in a confused rush.

“Don't worry about titles now, Maiden,” he whispered, leaning his face close to her, letting his lips brush against her cheek, “tonight you can call me God,”.

She turned her head to look in his face, catching sight of one beautiful indigo eye before his lips crashed into hers in a bruising kiss. One of Aemond’s hands slipped up her back and held her at the base of her skull as the other wrapped around her naked waist, his cold hand resting on the small of her back. He pulled her tighter to his body, feeling the hard press of her soft skin through the leather and linen of his clothes.

Aemond licked his tongue along the line of her lips, desperate to taste her mouth, would the richness of the wine still linger on her tongue or would he be able to taste her fear? He broke away from her kiss and gazed down at her, noticing the tears in her pretty eyes and the wobble of her soft bottom lip.

“Give yourself to me,” he whispered, “submit to me, and be filled with grace,”.

She whimpered softly, a single tear slipping down her cheek. She felt nothing but fear, a clawing, ripping terror that started in her guts and filled every inch of her, she felt as if she opened her mouth to speak pitch black tar would come bubbling out of her throat.

There was immediate fear, what Aemond could do to her if she didn't give him what he wanted and there was the future fear, of the following night and her new husband finding her no longer the maiden he'd been promised.

Despite the fear, Aemond's words awakened something else inside her, a pinprick of excitement in the doom, a flickering flame of need in the darkness of terror. Aemond’s grip on the back of her head tightened, her eyes focused on his face again, she found him beautiful and terrible.

“Submit,” he said again softly before touching a kiss to her still closed mouth, “submit,” he breathed again, the sound barely audible above the thumping of the blood in her ears.

The quiet word sounded like a prayer, even though he held all the power in the few seconds after the soft plea had fallen from his lips she felt completely in control, she could deny him and walk away without further incident but she didn’t want to. She wanted to submit, she needed to give herself to him, her body and soul demanded it of her.

“I submit, my Prince,” she replied, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper.

Aemond brought his mouth back to hers and kissed her again, there was less aggression now and when he tightened his hold on her body there was a thrill of pleasure, like a seam of gold in the bedrock of her terror.

He ran his tongue along her lips again and this time she parted her mouth and felt his tongue slip against hers instantly. Without thought she felt herself grip at the arm he had wrapped around her body, her fingers gripping vivaciously at the sleeve of his coat, feeling the strong and lean arm under the fabric.

As her fingers gripped him Aemond groaned into her mouth, feeling his cock throbbing against the lacing of his breeches, the press of her soft body was no longer enough, he needed to take her.

He broke away from her mouth, his gaze focusing on her heaving breasts and the saliva coating her lips. His own heart was pounding and he felt like the room was spinning around him and she was the only steady point.

“Lie down,” he instructed.

She obeyed without hesitation, needing to do nothing but let herself drop down onto the mattress and lay her head back on the plush coverlet. Aemond’s gaze moved up and down her body, from the silk slippers still covering her feet, up her shapely legs to their apex where her sex was hidden by a thatch of curly hair. Further up her stomach to her breasts and their aching hard nipples, her throat and the curve of her jaw all the way to the top of her head where the crown of hair was coming loose.

Aemond moved directly between her legs, he bent and wrapped his hands behind her knees, yanking her forward so her bottom rested just at the edge of the bed. He kept her knees lifted and pushed her thighs high and further apart. Splitting open the lips of her cunt, exposing the glistening folds of her womanhood.

She was totally transfixed by him, and from her position below him light cast his features in even sharper relief. It was easy to believe that he was a God, surely no mere mortal could look like him.

As he stared between her legs he made a groaning sound from deep in his chest.

“Hold your legs, Maiden,” he said softly.

She replaced his hands with her own, keeping her sex exposed to him. There was an ache between her legs now that seemed to start somewhere deep within her lower belly and her body was acting and reacting in ways she'd never experienced before. Aemond's hands went to the laces at the front of his breeches, working quickly to loosen them and allow him to free his cock.

With a soft moan he pulled the hard muscle free, squeezing it at the root and watching as a bead of pearly white fluid appeared at the tip.

He stepped forward, pressing the length of his shaft between the soaked lips of her cunt, smearing himself in her arousal. She gasped at the contact, having never felt anything between her legs apart from her own fingers before this moment.

His cock was hot, smooth and hard as he moved it between her lips and she felt her whole body awaken at the feeling of the blunt head of his cock touching the hardened pearl between her legs.

Aemond watched with fascination as she reacted to his ministrations on her body. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell into a pretty O shape, Aemond felt his cock pulse with desire and he longed to see how many more reactions he could draw out of her untouched body.

The two of them were now soaked in her arousal, the hair between her legs glistening with wetness in the flickering fire light.Aemond took a steadying breath as he angled his cock at her tight entrance.

“Be filled with grace,” his voice was like a prayer as he finally pressed forward and pushed inside her.

She gasped at the sudden feeling of stretching and pressure, it was nothing like she'd felt before and in a flash the arousal seemed to disappear and the fear was back, gripping her like a vice and making it hard to breathe.

“Don't fight,” Aemond hissed, “submit,”.

She took a steadying breath, her eyes fixed on his face as he stared between their body’s, at the place the two of them were becoming one. After the initial pain and resistance she found her body wanting to welcome him, she found her cunt pulling at him hungrily and willingly changing to accept him inside her.

Once Aemond was resting deeply inside her he gave a shuddering breath. He couldn't hear anything but the pounding of blood in his ears and he could see nothing but the place where their bodies were joined.

“We are one, Maiden,” he said softly, looking up at her face and finding her watching him, a single tear escaping her eyes as he pushed another inch forward, finding her body yielding and vice-like in its grip.

“Don't weep,” he said, reaching forward and wiping the tear away from her eyes, “you are one with the Gods now,”.

Aemond gathered the tear on his thumb and brought the drop of liquid to his mouth, sucking it off the tip of his thumb. He brought his wet thumb down between their bodies and brushed it against the swollen pearl that peeked out from between her soaked lips. He could feel the tight channel of her cunt squeezing around him at the contact and a small moan slipped between her soft lips.

Slowly he began to move his hips in a slow, grinding motion. He wanted to stay as deeply rooted within her body as he could but he desperately wanted to bring her pleasure. To share with her the religious experience he was chasing. He ground his hips forward and used his thumb to swipe and stroke at her pearl.

Her whole body was on fire, every part of her mind, her body and her soul was suddenly awakened with pleasure. She moaned and immediately felt a deep shame at the sound. Aemond could sense the sudden shift in her and he looked at her face.

“Don't hide your sounds, my Maiden, they are prayers and I want to hear them,”.

After that, any sense of shame melted away, how could there be shame between them now? He had heard her confession and now he shared her body. There was no longer space for shame. The pleasure began to build and a deep groan moved through her body and filled the room as she gave into the pleasure.

Aemond changed from grinding to short, sharp thrusts, pistoning his hips and moving his cock in and out, the movements made easy by the arousal that slicked between their legs, spreading over her thighs. Her eyes widened and the grip behind her knees tightened as the pleasure inside her reached a fever pitch. She moaned loudly, thrashing her head against the bed, her eyes closing tightly.

“Submit to it, Maiden,” Aemond moaned as he felt her body tightening around him, “submit and feel God,”.

With his words she gave her body and mind over to the sensations, the knot that tightened within her belly and the tingling in her fingers and toes, every inch of her skin felt tight and hot and then suddenly, like a dam breaking, there was nothing but bliss.

The muscles of her stomach and thighs clenching, the tightening being echoed by the gripping tightness of her cunt around Aemond’s cock. Her blood felt like it was on fire as it raced around her body, burning her alive. Time seemed to stop and her body no longer felt physical, she had passed beyond physical and was now made of stars.

Aemond followed her into bliss with a deep groan and a final deep and shuddering thrust, pressing himself as deep inside her as possible before spilling his seed.

Panting and trembling, Aemond leaned forward, bringing his body over hers for the first time and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Still dazed she looked at him, through the haze of pleasure he could have been mistaken for an angel, she expected him to kiss her again but instead he straightened up and withdrew from her body. Tucking his wet, soft cock back into his breeches before roughly tightening the laces.

Aemond went to the door of his chambers and opened them, letting the serving girl who brought her here inside.

“Take her back to her room, repair her dress and stay with her all night,” he spoke quickly and firmly, the only outward sign of his recent activities was the slightly pink flush to his cheeks and the sweat gathered at his hairline.

“In the morning, make sure you stay with her,” he added, glancing back at the woman still naked on his bed, her chest still heaving and her eyes still unfocused.

“I must go to my Sept,” he finished before moving out of the room and down the winding staircase.

The serving girl brought a large, soft blanket to the bed and encouraged the lady to sit up, her hair was a mess, half fallen out of its elaborate style. She wrapped the blanket around the lady and drew it closed over her chest.

“‘ere milady,' she said softly, “so you don’ get cold,”.

The serving girl gathered up the ruined dress and the slip before returning to the bed and helping her to her feet. The lady was unsteady on her feet and was shocked back to reality by the pain between her legs.

She brought one hand to her mouth in horror, holding the blanket tightly around her body.

“What have I done?” She whispered, glancing back at the bed.

“Come on my lady,” the serving girl said softly, “let's get you back to your rooms,”.

She followed the serving girl out of the room and down the winding staircase. The stone was icy cold on her silk slippered feet and the chill moved up her legs, quickly turning her whole body to ice. At the bottom of the final turn she stopped outside the door to Aemonds Sept, through the door the sound of his prayers were just audible. She placed her hand on the door, going to push it open but the serving girl placed her hand over the lady's.

“We must go,” she urged.

The serving girl led her back to her rooms, managing to avoid any other living being in the red keep. Back in the safety of her rooms she helped the lady into her bed, her naked body slipping between the soft sheets.

“Sleep, milady,” the serving girl said, “I'll be ‘ere in the morning to help you get ready,”. She closed her eyes and without another thought she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

Aemond knelt at his altar all night, the sun was creeping over the city when he finally opened his eye and unclasped his hands. A great deal of his religious devotion was for show, he felt almost nothing for the faith and used it only to manipulate those around him to his will. But after a night with a highborn maiden he often felt the need to unburden his soul.

He would not attend the wedding of his Maiden and Lord Tully, the ceremony would take place at Baelor's sept and the feast in the great hall. He wouldn't be expected to attend and he assumed his mother would pay him a visit after the festivities to fill him in on his brother's behaviour. He stood slowly from his altar to the Maiden, the candle he'd lit when he'd entered the night before was gutting and spitting as it gave its final flickers before going out, the wick drowning in a pool of its own wax.

Somewhere below the walls of the Red Keep a bell began to toll, waking the city and signalling the start of a new day. Aemond left his Sept, closing the door tightly behind him, he took the winding stairs back to his private rooms. The wine glasses and the plate of sweets were still on the table and the coverlet on the bed was rucked up from his Maidens thrashing and keening.

He could have knelt at the foot of the bed and placed his face where her arousal had soaked the fabric, he could smell the intimate musk of her body and let him become lost in memories.

He made to move toward the bed but there was a barely audible knock on the door, Aemond turned toward the door instead and called the visitor in.

His serving girl stepped into the room and closed the door silently behind herself. She was the only person in the Red Keep Aemond trusted without question.

“Milady slept fitfully, asked for you when she woke and has now been taken by ‘er mother and sisters to be washed and dressed,” she reported, her eyes focused on her feet.

“Thank you,” he replied, a cold distance in his voice.

“If you ‘ave no further need of me, Lord, I’ll be gone,'.

Aemond nodded and the girl left without another word or sound. Aemond took to his seat beside the fire, he drew a glass of red wine from the decanter on the table and drank deeply, scowling at the flames as they danced in the grate.

Some hours later the bell in the Great Sept rang out, a loud booming sound that travelled through the hot air across the city and out into the bay beyond. Underneath the tolling bell the bride stood as if made of stone, the only indication she was flesh and blood were the tears streaming down her cheeks.

The bride groom kept glancing at her nervously, was she weeping with joy? Unlikely he reasoned, was it sadness to be leaving the home she's known most of her life? Or was it fear of the night to come? He'd heard from his older, married brothers that virgin's could be fearful and unwilling on their wedding nights; he hoped he'd give a good showing of himself for her first experience of the marriage bed. After all, he'd never had any complaints before.

After the sun had set on the heaving city and the wedding feasting and drinking were done the newly weds were finally alone in their bridal chamber. The room was awash with light from torches and a blazing fire, the bed was made up in Tully colours and food and drink set out on a small table by the open window. She waited at the end of the bed for him, sitting with her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes turned down and the skin of her face tight and sore from the tears she’d been unable to stem.

Her new husband drank deeply from a wine goblet by the window, he was dressed in only his long white linen shirt and black leather riding boots, he drained his goblet and moved toward the bed. He’d decided he needed some extra liquid courage before taking his new wife to bed, he didn’t think he could cope with all the tears without something to help him forget the experience.

“Lie back, wife,” he said, his voice thick with drink, “we’ll soon have this done with,”.

Across the Red Keep Aemond sat alone in his chambers, he’d removed the patch from his ruined eye and the sapphire caught the flickering light from the fire, he stared at the flames as they twisted and licked around one another. Separate tongues of flame merging into a single burning light before breaking apart again and reaching desperately for cool air being drawn down the chimney.

The door to his room opened without warning, he turned his eye toward the darkened doorway and watched his mother enter. Her cheeks were flushed red with the wine she’d taken at the feast and her usually impeccable hair was looking dishevelled from dancing.

“Nice wedding?” Aemond asked as she sat heavily in the chair beside him and sighed deeply.

“Lovely,” Alicent mused with a smile, “the bride wouldn’t stop crying but she always was a miserable little thing,”.

Alicent looked over at her son, her smile was indulgent as she studied his profile.

“You should have been there,” she said softly.

Aemond gave a small shake of his head.

“It wouldn’t be appropriate,”.

“What would be inappropriate about you attending the wedding of members of the court?” Alicent argued.

Aemond, not in the mood to argue with his mother remained silent and returned his attention to the flames, tomorrow he would hold a service of devotion for his family and the small council and afterward he might entertain the master of coin to see what he could learn about the plans to deal with the civil unrest that was coming from Dorne.

“Anyway, I thought you’d like to know that Lord Beesbury has announced his plans to wed the Moreland girl before her next name day,”.

“The Moreland girl?” Aemond asked, turning his attention back to his mother.

“Another one of your sister's handmaids, the one with the golden hair and the crooked smile, she’s sweet enough but I feel for her marrying an old dog like Beesbury,” Alicent replied before lapsing into silence. The memory of her own marriage announcement brought sharply to the forefront of her mind.

Aemond’s fingers twitched against his knee, he knew the girl by sight and seemed to remember that despite the crookedness of her smile she showed it off willingly and often. He could help but wonder if she’d smile for him as he took her apart piece by piece.

“Before her next name day, you said?”.

“Hmm? Yes, about 3 months from now,” Alicent said, her mind now firmly fixed on the past.

Aemond nodded his head and drummed his fingers faster on his knee, not long to wait.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond imagine #cannon divergent #hotd smut #house of the dragon #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell character #aemond targaryen imagine #high septon ! aemond targaryen

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butchdykekondraki · 7 months ago

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i can never truly encapsulate the insanity that is the scp foundation. some guy on 4chan posts a sculpture labeled as scp-173 in the early/mid 2000s. and 2 decades later here we are in the day and age where a man named after a musical symbol had sex with that scp after putting it in a dress & makeup. website of all time godbless amen

#speaking.mp4

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hotvintagepoll · 8 months ago

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Propaganda

Miriam Hopkins (Design For Living, Trouble in Paradise)—miriam hopkins had great range as an actresses, truly a woman who could play a passionate outburst for either dramatic or comedic effect and sell the ever-loving hell out of it. she's wonderful in the witty and sophisticated comedies she made with ernst lubitsch, great examples of movies that could never have been made after the hays code; the frothy musical comedy the smiling lieutenant where she plays a naive princess who accidentally gets betrothed to maurice chevalier, the polyamory classic design for living where she gary cooper and hot vintage shadow king fredric march are a throuple, and the ineffably exquisite comedic masterpiece trouble in paradise in which she and hubert marshall are sexy jewel thieves trying to con sexy rich lady kay francis, but will emotional complications ensue???? watch to find out!!

Dorothy Dandridge (Carmen Jones, Porgy and Bess, Island in the Sun)— The first Black actress to ever be nominated for best actress, Dorothy Dandridge was a groundbreaking actress who deserved better. She started her career as a singer, being put in a song-and-dance duo with her sister by their stage mother, and singing in soundies (I highly recommend cow cow boogie, it's adorable), proto-music videos. She started appearing as a featured singer in films. Her star was on the rise and she soon became a star solo performer. She continued acting, but had limited options because she refused to do stereotypical roles. She finally landed a starring role in Bright Road in 1953, but it was the movie Carmen Jones that truly cemented her as a star and sex symbol. Not to sound cheesy, but she literally sizzles on screen. You can't help but understand how poor Harry Belafonte gets caught in her trap, just look at her. This is the role that got her that Oscar nom. She didn't win cause I mean #OscarsSoWhite, but she was a sensation and continued starring in films, despite troubles in her life (including a shitty director bf who fucked with her career and a traumatizing pregnancy/delivery). Outside of her filmwork, she was also an activist, fighting against racism. She left behind an amazing legacy, and continues to inspire many actresses to this day (including also very hot first (and only) black woman to win best actress, Halle Berry).

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Miriam Hopkins:

64.media.tumblr.com

She is an incredibly charismatic and versatile actress who brings a certain captivating je ne sais quois to each and every one of her roles that makes her impossible to ignore. Her pre-code films were considered quite risqué, with her part in a thrupple in Design For Living, and some saucy scenes they had to cut from Jekyll and Hyde. She also had a strong career in early television, so good that this queen literally has TWO Hollywood Stars, TWO!! One for TV and one for Film

youtube

Also she is Gorgeous, capable of being the girl nextdoor and also a stunning blonde bombshell. She's not as well known as some golden-age Hollywood stars but she's really incredible and I recommend everyone watch her films

In Trouble in Paradise she plays a pickpocket who flirts by stealing from her criminal boyfriend and I fell in love

Linked gifset

youtube

She's got this sly slouchy confidence that just draws you in. Almost no one wore 30s fashion as well as her

queen of the pre-code era. often her roles were of carefree, flirty and lighthearted but intelligent women. famously in the movie where she was part of a fredrich march/gary cooper throuple.

We all know that Design for Living is THE pre-code movie and she is so iconic in it. Her eyes are everythingggg. Also everyone look at her in a suit in She Loves Me Not please

A Frequent collaborator of Ernst Lubistch, Miriam Hopkins like up the screen in her comic roles, as is especially sexy in her pre-code performance in Design for Living; probably one of the first movies to showcase a coded polyamorous relationship. She toes the line between adorable and sexy, and had the acting chops to back it all up.

Dorothy Dandridge propaganda:

Beautiful actress and hand-working and talented singer, she's especially notable for the number of firsts she accomplished such as the first African-American woman to receive a nomination for the Academy Award for Best Actress and the first African-American woman to appear on the cover of Life magazine.

Dorothy Dandridge was a classic Hollywood triple threat, singing, dancing, and acting with the best of them. She was the first African American nominated for an academy award for Best Actress for her role in Carmen Jones and she was just jaw-droppingly beautiful.

youtube

this og of black film needs no introduction (star on the hollywood walk of fame anyone?), voice of an angel, heavenly features, just an overall stunning lady :)

Look at her!!! She is so unbelievably charismatic in Carmen, it’s insane. Her chemistry with Harry Belafonte is off the charts, and every time she puts another outdoor [sic] on it’s like ‘oh god this is a whole new level of stunning’ 🥵. She was so so talented, when she’s on screen I genuinely dare you to tear your eyes away from her. Deserves to be known so much better but due to Hollywood racism and a tough personal life she didn’t make it as big as she should have done. She’s incredible.

First Black actress to be nominated for the Oscar for Best Actress! Was the first choice for the role of Cleopatra that went to Elizabeth Taylor (we were ROBBED).

#dorothy dandridge #miriam hopkins #fuck that old woman #ladies 3 #hotvintagepoll #Youtube

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jubileemon · 9 months ago

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Fizzmodeus

Somehow in the infernal landscape of Hell, the relationship between Fizzarolli and Asmodeus, stands out as a sweet love story for the ages.

They were first introduced in the episode 'Ozzie's'. Despite their public disdain for sentimental relationships, they are entangled in a secret romance that defies Hell's social hierarchy and expectations. At first, Fizz and Asmodeus appeared as massive hypocrites, mocking others for their romantic endeavors while secretly harboring their own.

Fizzarolli's life was marked by a traumatic experience with fire, resulting in losing his horns and cybernetic replacements. As he thought Blitzo abandoned him to burn, Fizz began to develop a deep resentment towards his former best friend. Despite his normal jovial nature Fizzarolli suffers from extreme self-worth and self-image issues, the latter of which mostly originating from the severe injuries he received from a circus fire that he was involved in when he was younger. Because of this, he feels like he needs to do whatever Mammon tells him to do, as he feels he must repay the man for all the fame and success being his brand figure has brought, despite how horribly he is treated.

Working under Mammon, the Sin of Greed, further complicates his identity when Fizz became a symbol of Mammon's brand. The cost of fame weighs heavily on him, as public scrutiny and the demands of celebrity challenge his sense of self and personal values. Asmodeus' title as the Sin of Lust comes with its own set of expectations, yet his love for Fizzarolli transcends these. His protective instincts are often on display, particularly when Fizzarolli is in danger or vulnerable. Despite the initial portrayal of their relationship as hypocritical, the secret romance between Fizzarolli and Asmodeus is depicted as both sweet and healthy.

Despite one being a demon prince and one being an imp, and also portraying their partnership in public as purely lustful, Fizzarolli and Asmodeus' relationship is actually as healthy and romantic if not more so than Moxxie and Millie's, where the two are equals who look out for each other. Asmodeus' even lets Fizzarolli go out in public without him or an escort to defend him, despite Ozzie's concerns, because Fizzarolli wants to go alone, a far cry from if Ozzie truly didn't care about Fizzy beyond having sex with him. It's like if Stolas and Blitzø managed to work things out between them and had things be not so rocky.

Hard to believe, but aside from sex jokes, occasional rudeness and his grudge towards his former best friend, Fizzarolli stayed as nice and innocent as he was in childhood, despite all of his trauma. He does admit that it was difficult and challenging at first, but Fizzarolli finding someone who cared so much about him has led to him feeling like he leads a good life.

The relationship between Fizzarolli and Asmodeus is not without its trials. Asmodeus's deep concern for Fizzarolli's well-being is evident when Fizzarolli is taken hostage, an event that ignites Asmodeus's fury and prompts him to take drastic measures to secure Fizzarolli's safety. This protective streak is further shown in their interactions with Mammon, another Prince of Hell, whose abusive and manipulative behavior towards Fizzarolli causes Asmodeus to harbor intense animosity towards him.

In Season 2, Asmodeus reassuring Fizz at the beginning that he doesn't have to worry about being "perfect" for Mammon because perfection is impossible, and that he deserves a break or vacation without having to fend off creeps constantly.

Asmodeus' line when he rephrases his actual feelings in regard to Fizz being in Mammon's clown contest: "I don't like how many creeps you have now, thanks to Mammon. And I don't like designing sex toys with your likeness for him. Pretty sure you feel the same"; this one line has numerous, subtle but still important subtext that really shows how much Asmodeus cares for and respects Fizzarolli. Just the fact that Asmodeus is being honest about his feelings about Fizzarolli being in Mammon's competition.

In most forms of media, when someone doesn't like something that their significant other is doing, they’ll either dance around it until they can’t take it anymore and/or even lie to get their partner to stop. But Asmodeus doesn't do that - when his initial plea doesn't work, he gets straight to the point of him not liking it but in a healthy and mature manner. He doesn't put any blame on Fizzarolli for his own discomfort, instead putting it all rightly on Mammon's greedy shoulders.

Asmodeus' dislike over Fizzarolli as Mammon's brand figure not only comes from a place of concern and worry but respect. In the second sentence of his above-mentioned line, he mentions he does not like having sex toys in Fizz's likeness. Given that he's the King of Lust, one would think he would hardly care, but he does. Because it's his boyfriend using in such a way. Asmodeus also makes sure to note that he's also aware that Fizzarolli doesn't like the sex-bots as well. He's acknowledging not only his own discomfort but his partner's.

After acting like everything's all righr for the majority of the episode and having a full-on panic attack in his dressing room, Fizz finally pours out his insecurities to Asmodeus, telling him that he's terrified of losing him if he doesn't win the pageant because he feels that Ozzie's only with him because of who he is under Mammon's patronage. He even yanks his jester hat off - revealing his scarred, splotchy head and the jagged stumps of what remains of his horns - in an attempt to show Ozzie what he believes he is without Mammon: an ugly, broken, worthless imp.

"Crooked" is a sweet, simple song where Asmodeus and Fizz admit that while they both have their flaws and insecurities.

Asmodeus reassures him of his worth and publicly declares his love, a bold move that underscores the depth of his feelings and his willingness to face potential consequences for the sake of their relationship. Instead of the crowd being shocked or mocking the two, they are all instead excited and reveal they already had theories on it.

Crimson did call Ozzie's relationship with Fizz "the worst-kept secret in all of Hell." Nearly everyone in the crowd probably already knew or at least suspected. Which makes their reaction all the more heartwarming because it's acceptance. One of Ozzie's main worries was being seen as a hypocrite for being the incarnation of carnal hedonism while having a loving, monogamous relationship. It turns out nobody thinks that at all. The King of Lust has fallen in love, and everybody is happy for him.

#helluva boss #helluva boss analysis #fizzarolli #fizzmodeus #fizzarozzie #fizzaroli helluva boss #helluva boss asmodeus #asmodeus x fizzarolli #relationship #couples #true love #romance #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #hellaverse #helluva boss mammon #helluva boss fizzmodeus #why i love this ship

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naneun-no · 10 months ago

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From my drafts so it’s late but:

Today’s delulu thought is that Standing Next to You has too many lyrical coincidences to not be about Jimin.

🫣 I SAID IT WAS DELUSIONAL OKAY

You are free to disagree. You probably should 🤣

I mean we know it wasn’t written by Jung Kook but obviously the version he recorded was arranged with and for JK, and “leave your body golden” can’t be a coincidence right? Like it’s the whole ass album name, plus a word that carries connotations of JK himself, which the ppl who worked with him on Seven must have known.

So if that wasn’t a coincidence… then what about:

1. “How we left and right is something we control” — a callback to both Left and Right by CP feat JK, but also a nod to Butter, a massive BTS hit and a song that he performs alongside his boyfie bestie JM.

2. “When it’s deep like DNA, something they can’t take away” — a callback to another massive BTS hit, interesting. And *delulu warning* also reminds me of JM and JK’s extreme similarities that they themselves have referred to before?? They’re wired the same, they have the same sense of humor, they live and breathe for the same shit and even though they have some very key differences, they really do seem like twin flames (even if you just see it as platonic). They are similar in ways that seem braided into the fibers of their being. Like, in their DNA 🧬 some may say. *delulu warning #2* I’m also reminded of Jimin’s Letter lyrics: “After all this time has passed will we still be the same? Just like we were when we first met.”

Also, “something they can’t take away” is an interesting turn of phrase… more on that later.

3. Okay the real meaty part:

Screaming I’ll testify that we'll survive the test of time, they can't deny our love. They can't divide us, we'll survive the test of time I promise I'll be right here

[I seriously can’t believe how closeted-couple-coded this song is]

First off, again with the Letter lyrics mirrored here with the “test of time.” Then it’s got all this drama about being ripped apart and how it won’t happen and how they’ll be next to each other no matter what and that they have “something they can’t take away.”

Not only does all that line up with other Letter lyrics, but it is so goddamn dramatic and for what?

Be for real, what straight couple in this day and age would have this much working against them?? The only possible explanations are: 1) within the fantasy world of a song I suppose this could be some sort of Romeo and Juliet/West Side Story motif, and to be fair the music video did have a kind of rival gang/crime family look to it? Sort of? With the men fighting below the stage? Idk. Or it could be 2) the fact that idols do in fact often have to hide even their straight relationships, which is wild to me. But I know it’s a thing, so. I suppose there’s that. JK doesn’t seem the type though honestly. I think he’d be even more open about it than V.

On the other hand, the lyrics seem SO fit for a couple who are a) queer, b) closeted, c) currently in/about to be in a legislatively homophobic military and country (am I saying that right? Lol) and d) internationally famous pop idols in the SAME BAND who are both widely regarded as heterosexual sex symbols and would be shunned by many people in their homeland AND internationally if their queerness were to be revealed, much less if they were truly an item and THAT news broke.

Whew. That was a lot but like… that would be a real example of a relationship that would be VERY threatened by outside forces plotting against them and trying to separate them. Not JK and a hot blonde model, not him and a Korean actress, not basically any other scenario but a queer relationship.

Idk I know he didn’t write it but like ??? What the hell is that theme? I’m dying to get inside the mind of the people who DID write it, because are they or are they jikookers at this point like?!

4. Just for fun I’ll also point out the “leave your body golden like the sun and moon” 😏 like. Okay. At this point the songwriters are watching Jikook compilations, drooling over @slaaverin edits like convince me they’re not. CONVINCE ME.

5. “Deeper than the rain”?! “The pain”?! Alright I’m not even serious at this point but ??? Rainy day fight 🌧️?!?! 🤣🤣

6. “Standing next to you” oh you mean like… for 18 months? In a companion enlistment program? Like that?

Alright alright I’m done but you get my point. What even is this song if not an anthem of jikookery?! It’s more on-the-nose than Letter, more sneaky than Still With You. It wasn’t written by JK but at this point I’m calling that the songwriters are as delulu as me.

Hope y’all are well. If you made it to the end of this thank you for donning your tinfoil hat with me and I hope you at least got a giggle.

✌️

#jikook #kookmin #jimin and jungkook #jikook theories #delulu time

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fantaatix · 2 months ago

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a stolitz post? in the year of our lord??

warning this is genuinely a long ass post

okay so sometime last month i was watching 3bskyen’s JLMW reaction (really tells you how long i’ve actually been cooking this post), and he was talking about color theory or something but what caught my attention was that he was paused on THIS frame:

he said something about the red/blue contrast throughout the music video; red being symbolic of blitz (the moon) and blue being symbolic of stolas (the ocean (?)) and it got me thinking, i wonder what the gold might symbolize? because this definitely isn’t the first time we’ve seen the color gold in reference to stolitz. first think back to truth seekers, there’s gold in quite a few places

golden rails, golden feathers, golden shackles; this is why i say gold and not yellow. at first i thought it might be symbolic of the power imbalance, but that’d be too easy.

quite the selection of objects, isn’t it? rails imply safety but can also be restricting, the feathers seem harmless but then turn into shackles…possibly reminiscent of the nature the book deal and the role it actually played in blitz’s mind about his relationship with stolas.

but there’s one more thing i left out; the golden dust

...okay...don't laugh...

first time i saw this scene in truth seekers i was immediately reminded of shrek ever after

AND I’M NOT COMPARING BLITZ TO RUMPELSTILTSKIN, i’m not trying to imply they stole from shrek ever after, THAT'D be a stretch. if anything blitz is better compared to shrek himself, but i'm not gonna write about that because i Don't Want To

but if i’m remembering correctly, that movie revolved around the theme of taking good things for granted, like your partner and your friends, which aligns pretty well with how blitz’s bad trip ends:

“i believe your subconscious is trying to tell you that you simply cannot fathom proper intimacy, but also craves it as well. it’s rather unfortunate, sir, considering it’s often how you treat those who stand by you, such as myself. are you worried i may have enough of it one day, as well?”

"you cannot fathom proper intimacy."

blitz doesn’t know how to be close to other people–i don’t think he understands the relationship he has with any of the people in his life.

we still don’t truly know blitz’s full belief on love and we can only deduce it from his actions; he says monogamy is boring but then goes on to stalk his monogamous employees, on their anniversary no less, bringing along his own singular date...

he focuses on the sex in his relationships because that’s what he’s good at; he finds sex less complicated than romance... and then struggles to get his asmodean crystal to open a portal because he can’t get it off.

he has this recurring pattern where the title of “best friend” eventually turns into something else, often unrequited...

“...my first ever friend!”

he didn't expect stolas' intimate attraction to him. stolas made the connection and it succeeded in making blitz feel guilty about stealing the book; that was why he stayed the night. blitz isn't used to not being rejected, even though he has a record of relationships that stopped once the Evil Four Letter Word came up. when he goes into a relationship, blitz has learned to not expect it to evolve past sex. love has negative connotations to him.

the worst part is we don’t know for certain WHY any of this is, or if it can even be chalked down to a singular thing

yeah, his mom died in a fire blitz caused, his best friend/crush lost his limbs in a fire blitz caused, he’s been treated as property since a young age; you can makes all kinds of correlations between these events and how they might have affected him later in life but as it stands now, we have no concrete answers other than the conclusion that blitz hates himself and has commitment issues.

but back onto that “taking things for granted” tidbit–subconsciously, he knows relationships can be good, but he feels he has to give up a lot of freedom in order to maintain one of his own.

also note how blitz is desperately crawling up the staircase, feathers kind of just hitting him haphazardly as he does so, as opposed to trip!moxxie who takes a few steps up after picking up a feather of his own volition. he knows moxxie’s relationship is more stable than any relationship he’s ever had, and yet:

“stop fucking talking, all of you!”

cue the gold dust.

now, i'm not saying the book deal was a good thing. in fact, it kind of reinforced the power imbalance between blitz and stolas. i'm saying that from blitz's perspective, it was a safeguard. any feelings he might have had for stolas before could be dismissed, and he does exactly that one episode prior;

"it's a transactional fucking, you see..."

what i think he does take for granted is the advice “moxxie” gives to him, his attempts to reach out in a meaningful manner, kind of like stolas’ attempts to reach out. he ignores them both; he’s too deep into his own denial.

also, STAIRCASES IN THIS FUCKING SHOW.

why do these fruity little men think so low of themselves and so highly of others??

i guess that's a bit of a rhetorical question, we all know the answer, but. wait. hold on a sec

ohhhh.

OOOHHHH, that's what this post was gonna be about!

i fucking GOT all of you, you thought i could go a post without talking about him you're WRONG and should feel SILLY.

so this was the OTHER thing i realised when watching 3bskyen's JLMW reaction: it follows the same theme as moxxie's bad trip!

JLMW vs. moxxie's bad trip

in helluva boss, we're used to seeing staircases being symbolic of a difference in power or importance, or a staircase to heaven, or a highly anticipated event going wrong *cough cough ozzie's cough full moon cough cough*

however, i think in the context of moxxie’s bad trip and JLMW, it can also be attributed to emotional distance. like stolas, moxxie's also looking for an emotional intimacy/understanding between him and blitz (he spends his whole trip actively trying to get on the same level as him for crying out loud).

this could also fit into blitz's bad trip; he's trying to get on the same level as stolas, but feels like even if he ever did, he'd still be inherently worthless. a "play thing".

he doesn’t know why anyone would want him for anything else, but he’s clearly not all about the hierarchy.

they need to get on the same level as each other emotionally; they need to break the power dynamic, and thats why the book deal had to go.

the difference in the symbolism is that while blitz has a straight and narrow path to trip!stolas, moxxie’s path to trip!blitz is this winding, unguarded staircase. he almost falls off.

now, compared to both of those, stolas’ path is a fucking stroll. albeit an emotionally damaging stroll, but it takes less physical strength.

conclusion; stairs are symbolic of a difference in power, but gold is symbolic of something else.

and there is a power dynamic between moxxie and blitz. it's not like stolas and blitz's dynamic, it's an artificial imbalance; blitz is the boss, moxxie is the employee. and moxxie has his own inferiority complex, which i think plays a role in it too.

the imbalance between stolas and blitz is kind of, unfortunately, inherited. but it's not impossible to manage. of course, stolas doesn't care about where blitz is on the hierarchy, he doesn't care about the hierarchy period. but it's still there. blitz cares because it affects him.

"you will be technically under his jurisdiction, but..."

this was problem one. stolas unintentionally demonstrating his power over blitz. "surprise, i technically made you someone else's property! please love me!" i'm exaggerating but this is definitely not the kind of thing you spring on your partner; they needed to talk about this beforehand, but according to stolas:

"no need for an arrangement, it can just be him and me!"

sigh. the many different ways this night could've gone

this is enough to trigger blitz's fight or flight. he wants to be with stolas, but he doesn't want the freedom to choose to be with him, which is problem two:

because blitz's belief of love is so inherently fucked up,

what are the chances that the very thing stolas gave to blitz to reaffirm his free will was just interpreted as another shackle?

blitz doesn't do commitment; stolas doesn't say "i love you", he doesn't need to. if you love something, you let it go, and if it comes back then it's yours--which happens in the very next episode.

blitz is the first person to mention love.

but if they want to love each other, they have to be equals, which was why the book deal had to go. they can't hold each other to these super high standards because that'd just set themselves up for disappointment. they have to be on the same level.

tldr: they're two sides of the same coin. literally!

color theory for dummies, a brief intermission

fun fact: i actually didn’t learn color theory in an art class, but in a textiles class. we love american education. but anyways, i’m gonna ask you to draw your attention specifically to the complementary colors.

we start the chorus of JLMW in a purpley sort of place, which then shifts into gold, and then into the red/blue contrast.

except red and blue aren’t complete opposites, they’re both primary colors.

if they wanted complete opposites, they could’ve used red and green, or blue and orange, which are admittedly uglier combinations but the point is that stolitz aren’t complete opposites.

however, purple and yellow, or gold, ARE complete opposites; they’re complementary colors. if purple is implied to be symbolic of stolitz together, then could gold imply stolitz apart?

well…no. i think that’s the wrong angle. if they wanted that contrast, they could have left the gold out entirely, because red and blue separate is stolitz apart.

so how are we supposed to deduce what the gold is actually symbolic of? because no, i don’t actually think it’s an extended shrek 4 reference. that kind of exclusively pertains to blitz’s trip.

listening to the lyrics in the gold part;

This unspoken contract

A deed we forged for mutual gain

If that's all this was when you're not here

What is this rooted pain?

I don't care that you're of lower station

Or primed to sate my dark temptations

Why can't you understand? Let me explain

And I'm terrified as I cry

To make these feelings true

What's left for me and my broken heart

If I cannot have you?

a direct mention of the book deal…and another mention of the power imbalance…so i realize am starting to sound insane, but please hear me out.

i think the main theme of helluva boss IS learning to love in spite of damages and traumas and insecurities–not ignoring either of those, but learning to work around them or possibly heal those parts of yourself so you can love someone else effectively. learning from mistakes.

so what if the gold is symbolic of the simple desire of a mutual understanding? or a meaningful connection with someone else?

tying it all back together somehow

both moxxie and stolas want to connect with blitz (in different ways), but for stolas, that means severing possibly the only thing connecting them thus far (the book). for moxxie, that means climbing the staircase and possibly being pushed even further away.

moxxie also has this high opinion of blitz despite all his obvious (and not so obvious) flaws. i think it's partially because of his own inferiority complex, but to him, blitz is the phantom--his scar becomes the mask he hides behind. he knows blitz puts on this loud, crude personality to hide his cracks and keep others away, and has a scarily accurate portrayal of him in his mind.

moxxie wants to be on the same level as blitz, and he knows it's possible to get there, because he's a damaged character himself and he gets it. he's just yet to take the actual first step.

stolas, even in his own imagination, doesn't think it's possible to be emotionally intimate until the deal is broken. he could reach for blitz, but blitz wouldn't reach back. he's not looking. not to mention the literal celestial view he has of blitz in his head.

while stolas can see blitz's damage, he can't fully comprehend it yet, partially because blitz won't give him the chance and partially because stolas isn't damaged in the same way he is. they both had deadbeat dads, but they adapted in different ways.

that's just the way trauma works, you adapt to deal with it, and then have to unadapt those unhealthy coping mechanisms once you're finally safe. it just takes a while for people to realize they're actually safe, and these fruitcakes are no exception.

conclusion? uhh, i don't know, i guess i don't really have one. just. enough with the discourse about these bitches i guess??? just give them each some time, change takes more than two seasons.

i guess i could compare the way the songs are set up but this was supposed to be out like two days ago and it's already 11:45 so. maybe some other time, maybe in a post about moxxie's Interesting taste in musicals

was unfortunately unable to finish the mox vs. fizz masterpost this month but we'll see sometime in the coming months, maybe sometime after the next helluva short comes out. been a bit too busy with school and other social things to have time writing these long asf posts about my skrimblos

okay goodnight o/

#helluva boss #moxxie #blitzø #moxxie knolastname #moxxie hb #moxxie helluva boss #stolas goetia #blitz #stolas #stolitz #helluva boss stolas #just look my way #truth seekers #is this enough fucking tags for you #stolas helluva boss #stolas hb #blitzø buckzo #blitzø hb

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drbased · 3 months ago

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This is probably a little too personal, so I completely understand if you don’t want to answer, but I just saw a post of yours about how you were previously in the kink scene and how that strengthens your current stance on BDSM and the like.

I was exposed to that sort of thing at a really young age, and just accepted it as normal, but more recently discovered radical feminism. Do you have any advice on coping with previous relationships/ distancing yourself from that sort of thing? It’s really messed with my perception of relationships and sex and everything.

I'm not going to be able to answer this as fully as you'd like me too, I'm afraid.

Deconstructing the unspoken ideologies of BDSM are what has helped me the most. And it's fortunate that most of them can be summed up pretty easily:

forced orgasm, cnc, bondage: ask yourself to consider why it is that the idea of being a fully conscious, present, active and desiring human being isn't more erotic for you. feminist theory really helps with this - patriarchy says that the most 'erotic' thing is an erasure of our agency, our dehumanisation. patriarchy is necrophilic; it seeks death, and will accept symbolic death - that is, destruction of all things resembling living human agency, even when real death isn't available. instead, then, changing your mindset to recognising that the most erotic thing about you is that you're alive and vibrant and make choices and interact with the physical world and you're always you even when having sex; if that seems 'cringe' then you can embrace that, because in cringe lies true authenticity.

d/s roles: embrace the humility and vulnerability of true, unscripted interactions between human beings - bdsm for people is described often as 'safe fear' akin to watching a horror film, but unlike a horror film the 'safe fear' from participating in a d/s 'scene' replaces a much more potent fear of true human eroticism. additionally, doing kink in day-to-day life is another way to numb one's self to the chaos and discomfort of living.

punishment and rules: I've described kink as a form of symbolic state before, and this is why - bdsm, especially the whole concept of 24/7 d/s, is an opiate that substitutes the complicated chaotic world of real vulnerable human interaction where you are entirely responsible for your life choices is watered down to a set of rules you can follow for the rest of your life. you never have to worry if you're doing the 'wrong' thing, because your relationship path is laid out for you. And that fear of getting things 'wrong' is where the symbolic state begins to be formed - because there is no 'wrong'; there are only actions and consequences, and what you personally value. do you value the consequences of your actions? as with all symbolic states, there's a narcissistic childishness at play; you don't want to have to value the consequences of your actions - instead you want to believe that there's some external source of judgment you can always follow. because if you valued the consequences of you actions, suddenly you'd have to stop with the loathing of them - you either embrace them as truly a part of yourself, or you stop. the simplicity of that is hard but as with all hard things, it's deeply rewarding. the 'freedom' that people find in d/s is the escape from having to actually engage with their own personhood, but as with all symbolic states that's a trap. and especially as women, we recieve all sorts of mixed messaging and are punished much more harshly by society for our transgressions, so it's easier to give up and embrace that societal messaging. but it makes you vulnerable to it, and nothing beats the impenetrability of 'I don't care about x' vs 'I do care about x, so I will do something about it'

I'm not one of those radfems that will state with full confidence that all fetishism is bad in some ontological sense - I think the ubiquity of fetishes including those that seem to having nothing to do with dominance/submission, and those that start in childhood, says to me that there's something about fetishes that makes them part of the human experience. But then, as I often say, we don't live in a world where we got to have a healthy understanding of sex first: we live in a world where the default understanding of what 'sex' is for the majority of human history has been some form of rape; a man claims a woman, and her 'consent' is the point at which she submits to him, and as this consent is not an expression of her personhood it can be replaced with something as mundane as a legal contract (marriage) or financial transaction ('sex work').

Men know that rape is a perfect tool of mass terror to destroy the psyche, so it stands to reason that we feminists are not being hyperbolic when we acknowledge the importance of consent for true realisation of the self - and bdsm's hyper-focus on 'consent' seems to me a very liberal application of this idea; a deliberate refocus of excited feminist energy into something more palatable for society that still seems libertine enough to quash any sense of real rebellion (which, from what I've learned, has been a through-line of bdsm from the start). I've noticed that bdsm-ers talk a lot about how bdsm was the first time they were able to really recognise their own agency, and all I can think is how bdsm is offered to women specifically as a compromise: if you do all the sex things I want that just so happen to mirror real-life abuse and rape, then I will dress up for you, I will give you fun, spontaneous, adventurous sex, I will focus on your orgasm, I will make you the center of my attention always, I will discuss boundaries with you.

We should take with a huge grain of salt the ethics of any sexual norm in this society, including those which seem to go against the grain (remember that said grain is man-made, and thus any rebellion against it that men seem to embrace will always be more about their own rejections of the contradictions within the structures that they have built and actively benefit from; this is why feminist critique of bdsm and 'sex work' will always be more true and well-realised than any right-wing hatred of it). Even the word sadism is from the marquis de sade - a man who raped and tortured women and wrote propaganda on how being a true libertine means accepting rape. That's not an interpretation - that's literally what he did; there's no way that the women he was torturing were consenting or able to consent. And I think it says a lot about societal misogyny that you can look at what he did and see it as some sort of expression of secret liberty - it's so transparently misogynistic and patriarchal, once again inexplicably sold to women as freeing just in the same way that being a tradwife is freeing. There's a reason that there's a 1950s housewife kink.

So even if there's a version of fetishism that exists out there outside of patriarchial necrophilia and misogynistic dominance, rape and abuse, unfortunately we don't live in a world where we can find that out. The most basic, pg-13 symbol of kink - the fuzzy handcuffs - are a symbol of a woman being trapped and unable to escape. That is, whether or not anyone wants to accept it, a symbol of rape. And as for those childhood kinks I mentioned - I wrote a whole post a while back on how we seem to see a lot more kinks in kids' shows than anything else; the role of kink as another way to sexualise and exploit women and children, perhaps as punishment for a belief in the madonna/whore complex and assuming that our desire to be taken seriously as human beings means we're weakly protesting our purity, and there's an excitement in breaking those barriers down. So the question always remains; to what extent our supposed kinks that we 'consent to' in the bedroom are even our own, or how many of them are simply agreeing to entirely fabricated constructs of the male mind? And with that in mind, how meaningful can our consent ever be in that context? Or is 'consent' in a bdsm context perhaps a lot less like freedom and a lot more about that patriarchal understanding of consent as an agreement that can replicated? People laughed at 50 shades for the 'contract' but fail to recognise that d/s roles function in essentially the exact same way.

I would wholeheartedly recommend Pornography by Andrea Dworkin and Pornograph and Silence by Susan Griffin, as well as Against Our Will: Men, Women and Rape by Susan Brownmiller for some background on the enormity of this subject and a sense of how high the stakes are.

#my writing #symbolic states #wisdom posting #kink tw #kink critical

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spiderlily-w1tch-blog · 20 days ago

Text

𝙼𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚕(𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚊) - 𝚁𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚢/𝙼𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗 𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚛

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

Ft Royal Doctor!Julian, Spectator!(Vizier!)Asra + nondescript Castle Staff; ft breeding, belly bulge, mentions of cunnilingus, creampie

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own The Arcana or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 3,199

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Includes mentions of Age Gap(5 years) and Arranged Marriage, no use of Y/n, 1st Person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖎 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: Muriel can finally be the King he truly is 😌 Asra is either his Royal Magician or just his favorite Noble, I’ll decide in the car I decided. He’s the Royal Vizier(who also kind of doubles as the Royal Magician bc bby is a magickal boi)(yes i know i sound pretentious with that spelling but like,,,, just go with it)

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

I happily kiss my husband as he slides his hands up my back, pulling me flush against his chest. He had woken me this morning with sweet kisses down my shoulder and arm, stroking lightly over my hip. He had told me that today is the day and I could hardly contain my joy.

Today is the day that the Vizier arrived back from his travels which means that today is the day we may make an heir for our kingdom. My husband and I have wanted children for years now but due to tradition, we had to wait until I, the Queen, would reach my 25th year. I am now entering my 26th year as we had to wait for the Royal Vizier to arrive to oversee the creation of the future Heir.

But he’s back now, which means that Muriel and I can make our dream of having a child come true. While this isn’t the first time we’ve copulated, this is the first time we’ll be able to reap the benefits. As is tradition, we’re presenting in the throne room. Muriel’s ancestors believed it to be symbolic, and mine believed it to be good luck.

Our marriage was initially arranged for peace and unity, we fell in love long before we married. As the sole heirs to each of our Kingdoms, we had been betrothed since we were young. We didn’t get along at first when we first met as children, but after a time apart, we met again as adolescents in my 14th year and his 19th and our love blossomed.

It all came to ahead to where we are now. Sitting in my lovely husband’s lap, nude as the day I was born, with his hands running up and down my skin as we prepare to finally create the child we have so wanted. His hands find their home on my hips and he presses a sweet kiss to my lips in preparation.

“I’m sure you two will make a lovely heir, Your Majesties.” Asra, our Vizier speaks in his usual, naturally teasing tone, though we know he’s sincere. I smile into the kiss and release a breathy chuckle when I hear the door open and the attempt to shut it quietly. Muriel playfully growls against my lips before pulling away, though he kept his gaze on me.

“You’re late.” He states firmly to the Doctor who has just arrived.

“Well, technically, if you think about it, I’m actually early. You’ll really just need my presence in 9 months, Mu- My Lord.” Julian’s voice cuts through the air and makes me laugh at the man’s antics, leaning my head into my husband’s shoulder.

“You’re lucky my wife likes you, fool.” My husband growls out. Everyone in the room knew it was laced with empty threats and false bravado and he actually quite doesn’t mind the doctor but no one points it out. I am perfectly content to only focus on the way my husband’s large firm body is pressed against mine, how his big hands fit so perfectly around my waist, how big his heavy cock feels against my inner thigh.

Finally, we could progress further than simple grinding and get to the main event. I slide my womanhood over Muriel’s dick a few more times to lubricate it enough. Once he had deemed it slick enough, my loving husband tightens his hold on my waist and lifts me up just enough to allow me to reach down and position his massive cock at my entrance. Even with my added lubrication and how much he had stretched me open with his delightfully thick fingers, the stretch of his cock head entering me burns deep in my core. After all the years that we have been married and had sex, granted many of those times were simply fucking my thighs or Muriel staying between my legs for hours on end, his size still managed to prove difficult to take unless we go slowly. Over the years, when we did have sex, I learned to not only get used to the burn of the stretch but quite enjoy it as well.

My husband and I share a sigh of relief when his tip pushes past my tight muscles, the rest will be relatively ‘smooth sailing’, as Portia, our resident Overseas Trader would put it. I slowly slide down on his length, with his help, and pant when I finally reached the base. My love holds me gently to his chest to let me rest for a moment, to get used to his size once more.

We hadn’t been able to have full intercourse in the last many months as it was worried that with this day coming upon us, we would get too excited and forgo tradition, if only by a few months. They were even worried enough to advise us to not even simulate the act, the Elders’ way of telling us that Muriel couldn’t even fuck my thighs as of recently. Luckily, we remained far from abstinent in the time approaching this glorious day, needing to release the pressure building up before we’d spontaneously combust. Muriel maintained his favorite position— aside from being buried inside me— with his face buried between my thighs for as long as he was able. He hardly allowed me to return the favor but I still managed to pleasure my husband any way he would let me.

And that finally brings us to today. The day we’ve been yearning for for years. The sting of the stretch hasn’t fully passed but I couldn’t bring myself to give a damn, I need Muriel to fill me over and over again until he stuffs me full of his cum and breeds me with his child, his heir. More than anything I want to be full and pregnant with my loving husband’s progeny. I truly love my husband more than anything in the world and to carry his child is my greatest wish, the greatest honour I could have.

Lifting my hips, I shiver at the feeling of his thick cock dragging against my inner walls. Without much patience, with help from my husband’s big, rough hands on my hips adding to the momentum, I let my hips fall back into his lap, burying his cock inside me once again. A pleasured gasp slips past my lips and my eyelids flutter shut. Unable to resist my yearning for more, I use my hands perched on his shoulders to lift myself up again and quickly let myself fall back down. The pleasure began building quickly, especially after I haven’t had his cock inside me for so many months for that stupid “precaution” and I quickly feel myself becoming addicted all over again. Addicted to the feeling of being filled so wonderfully by my husband’s spectacularly large cock.

I set a steady pace and easily rise and fall on his length, relishing in the feeling. I look down and see the familiar bulge he creates in my belly every time he fills me. The sight has me moaning more and encouraging a faster pace. My loving husband reaches a hand up from my hip— his other one slightly tightening its grip so as to compensate for the sudden lack of support— and lifts my chin to look at him. He looks at me with eyes filled with love and lust and a deep wanting greed that sends shocks of pleasure down my spine and adds to the pleasure of him filling my cunt.

I vaguely recognise the sound of a short groan from the doors that Julian had previously made his grand entrance from. Without looking, I figure that it’s the maids and other servants milling about that decided to peek into the throne room. I couldn’t care less at this moment, however, as I’m only focussed on savoring the feeling of my King, my Husband inside me. In fact, let them watch. Let them witness the true union of their King and Queen. Finally conceiving an heir. Their future Prince or Princess. We are not malevolent rulers, let them indulge in the honour of witnessing the next King or Queen’s conception.

From behind me, I can hear Asra discussing with Julian. Plans for how to accommodate my pregnancy, most likely, or plans for the birth. I must still attend to my duties as Queen, even if I am with child, at least until the last month or so until I am to give birth. How we shall handle public appearances once my belly begins to swell with proof of my Husband’s seed entering my womb and fulfilling the wish we have waited for since before we were wed. The thought invigorates me and urges me forward on my conquest to receive my Husband’s love. Previously I had been attempting to hold in my more undignified moans and noises but I can’t help it any longer.

Looking into Muriel’s eyes, I am pushed to release a loud, drawn-out moan that I previously had only saved for the privacy of our bed chambers. When he has my legs pinned to my chest as he thrusts wildly into my heat. The noise seems to have an effect on him as his hold tightens into a bruising grip that suddenly makes me dissatisfied that I only wear gowns that cover all of me and I cannot display the marks he leaves on my skin— visible proof of his love that he leaves each time we have such delightful coitus.

“Please, my love— do not hold your beautiful sounds inside. I want to hear you, hear how good my cock is making you feel.” My Husband’s deep, growling voice speaks to me, encouraging me further to my release. Instantly, I comply, moans and an assortment of other sensual and sultry noises flow from my lips. Muriel’s hands on my hips add more force to the thrusts downward and it quickly sends me spiraling into my orgasm. With a loud cry, my walls clench around him and slick gushes into his nude lap, coating his thick thighs with my ecstasy. A muttered curse mixed with a pleasant growl leaves my lover and it sends shocks of pleasure through me, further enhancing my pleasure.

My walls clench around his member, making every vein and small detail more prominent against my sensitive cunt. Muriel lets his head fall back against his throne with a ‘thunk’ with a deep, appreciative groan. The sound of the servants at the door murmuring in surprise and excitement snaps me out of my ecstasy-induced daze and I would be annoyed if it didn’t remind me that my husband still hasn’t cum— hasn’t filled me with his seed. We haven’t finished yet. Silently, I halfheartedly thank them and continue my rhythm of lifting my hips with his assistance. My orgasm made me sensitive so each drag of his thick cock against my walls is like agonizing ecstasy, pushing me towards another orgasm already. My husband’s stomach muscles tense and release rhythmically and his groans become more frequent and more strained and rushed, an indicator I’ve become quite familiar with that he’s approaching his end as well.

“Fuck- My Love- My Queen- So good. So fucking good. Perfect! So perfect around me! Oh, Ancients- keep clenching around me like that.” He begins to ramble, another indicator that had quickly become my favorite since I first heard it those years ago on the night of our wedding. That night we spent hours consummating our marriage. Likely we will be replicating that night once we get back to our bed chambers. And I can’t wait.

His cockhead kisses my cervix with each thrust like it’s trying to bully its way inside. The thought actually excites me. The prospect of his cock inside my womb when he finally shoots his load has the knot in my belly pulling taut in record time. Unable to resist him, I move forward urgently and smash my lips against my husband’s. He swallows my high-pitched whines of pleasure as I take in the gorgeous baritone groans and growls from deep in his chest.

From behind me, I can vaguely hear Julian making his very Julian-like noises that I can hazily recognize that he’s taking perverse pleasure in the situation. Surprisingly enough I can’t hear Asra chastising him as he usually does. With my husband’s length still pounding my insides and his tongue invading my mouth, mapping out the territory he’s claimed again and again, I can’t get myself to care much. If I can remember anything but Muriel’s name after this, I’ll have to indulge my curiosity— though that likelihood is nearly nonexistent.

My husband’s tongue slips out of my mouth and he drags it down to my pulse point and attaches to the spot with teeth nipping at the area and his lips sealed over it to suck a dark mark into the skin, his tongue lapping at the sensitive skin. That sends me hurdling over the edge again, my legs trembling beneath me and my hips faltering in their repetitive motions, and my walls clenching and unclenching around Muriel’s cock inside me. His nails dig into my flesh the way mine do his and his teeth sink into my neck in a possessive bite as his hips jolt up to meet flush to mine. With his hips pressed up into mine and his possessive grip pushing me down to somehow bring me closer, his length fills me completely and wholly.

His tip pushes at my cervix, opening the inner hole just enough that his hot, potent seed floods directly into my womb. The feeling of warmth filling my belly as well as the sensation of being fuller than I ever have before sends my eyes rolling back into my skull; else I would have seen the large bulge in my stomach from his cock pushing in to the furthest extent and his cum bloating my womb even further. Even with his massive cock stretching my cunt as far as it could go and his tip protruding into the entrance of my womb, cum seeps out and leaks out of my slick entrance in tiny streams. With so much cum filling me, there was no way I wasn’t properly and thoroughly bred. I quiver and shake in his hold with my back straight and stiff as an arrow before I collapse bonelessly against my Husband’s strong and solid chest. His muscles remain tense for several moments as the aftershocks of his strongest orgasm yet rush through his body.

He slumps against his throne, hands relaxing against my skin— I can already feel the beautiful bruises forming and crescent indents stinging deliciously— and lazily slide over my back to loosely hold my body against his. My body rises and falls with the movements of his chest as he heaves for breath, his lips brush over my ear and give pleasurable puffs of air against my neck. His warmth— both inside and outside of my body— has me cuddling closer to him and tucking my face into his neck, appreciating the tickle of his long hair on my face and his natural musk meeting my nose.

“You did wonderfully, Majesties.” Asra’s soft voice speaks up from his place before the thrones, though it hardly registers. My husband murmurs praises to me lowly through his slow, deep inhales to get the air back into his lungs from it all being punched out by his powerful orgasm.

“You did so good, my love. So perfect for me. You’ll be the perfect mother to our little one. ‘ll look so pretty when you swell with my child. ‘ll look so perfect so full. ‘m gonna breed you again and again now that we can.” His voice is soft and grumbly with exhaustion and it fills me with another kind of ecstasy. I feel the slow drag of Muriel’s stubbly chin as he turns his face to press a kiss to where he can reach on my face. With the comfort of the warmth in my belly and my husband’s arms around me with soft words whispered into our small, shared space, I’m easily lulled into a comfortable, floaty space.

I vaguely recognize things moving around me but I cannot bring myself to return to awareness. I hear Julian’s voice as well as Asra’s and my Husband’s but I can’t make out what they’re saying. A voice calls out into the space a short order and suddenly the large doors quickly fall closed with a groan and a loud ‘thud’ echoing through the room.

“My love?” My husband’s voice brings me back and I blink the bleariness out of my eyes to see his forest green ones staring back at me with a warm mirth.

“Uh?” He smiles lightly in soft amusement and nods at the two at my back. Lazily my gaze shifts to them to see our Vizier ready with the ring in his hand to signify that the ritual has finally been completed. Shaky, my hand reaches out and he softly cushions my hand to gracefully slide the perfectly sized ring onto my left index finger. The simple jewelry fills me with comfort and accomplishment and I release a sigh I didn’t realise I was holding.

“Congratulations, My Queen. The Heir shall be good and strong like his progenitors.” He kindly smiles and his words quell my mind with a soft joy. Julian comes up once Asra steps back to give Muriel his symbol. With a rare kind smile, he leans down and gently prods my lower belly and hips with cold hands that make me jolt in my husband’s hold, his arms tightening protectively around me and as a reaction to the shifting of my body while his cock still resides heavy inside me.

“Well, if we couldn’t tell before— which we’d have to be blind and deaf not to—“ he jokes making me smirk and Muriel tighten his lips in faux annoyance though I know it‘s to stop the quirk trying to tug at his lips, “I’m more than sure that you’re to be with child very soon. Practically by the time you leave this room with how-” Quickly, Asra rushes over and tugs the back of Julian’s coat away from the thrones, effectively cutting him off with a garbled choking sound that turns into a strained laugh that sounded more like a choking cat.

Smiling contentedly, I comfortably lean my head back into my husband’s shoulder, “So,” I speak softly, catching his attention and making his beautifully dark eyes meet mine. Mischief slips into my smile and my brow quirks up as my gaze flicks to his lips for a mere moment, “Would you like to recreate our honeymoon in our chambers with our newly attained benefit?” My voice drops into a lower sultry tone. Muriel’s brows rise as his eyes darken and he quickly— though still careful of both our sensitivity— hooks his hands under my thighs and lifts me effortlessly and begins a determined trek to our chambers to keep me there for the rest of the day— and likely into tomorrow.

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

@frosch-thefrog @hellsingalucard18

#cw exhibitionism #cw public sex #tw exhibitionism #tw public sex #muriel x reader #the arcana muriel x reader #the arcana x reader #the arcana smut #fem!reader #afab reader #spiderlily spells

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