#you do however still have to pull the sword out of his mouth

[theamityelf]

May I request more RoD Fuyuhiko and kidnapped Makoto? 😩

Oh boy, I've imagined this so many ways. Right now, I'm kind of into the idea of it being a very formal and dignified kidnapping.

Like, he's got that three-piece suit brand of villainy; he could send Peko to knock Makoto out and drag him home (and if they were close/dating in school, he does think of his home as Makoto's home, however complicated his feelings are now), but more likely he's sending a car to block Makoto's (walking) path and Peko climbs out and informs Makoto that the head of the yakuza would like a word and it's nonnegotiable.

Ideally (for Fuyuhiko), he does this before the Future Foundation gets to Makoto, but he'll find a way after, if needed. (And it's perhaps more interesting, story-wise, if Makoto has at least spent a couple of days with Future Foundation before Fuyuhiko can abduct him.) Whatever the case, he'll make arrangements to get Makoto alone, a car will pull up in front of him, and:

"Makoto Naegi," the gray-haired woman says. (Not like a question; it hasn't been a question since the killing game. At least, not a genuine one. It's so weird, to have other people know his name before he knows theirs.) "Your presence has been requested. The boss asks that you get in the car without making a scene, and nobody gets hurt."

"The boss?"

"You won't know the details until you meet the boss in person." The young woman shifts her shoulders in a way that subtly hefts the sword bag strapped to her back– which she hasn't yet reached for. "Will you come willingly and save the lives of the companions who have lost track of you already, or will you resist, be taken by force, and guarantee the blood of your companions is shed?"

Makoto's confused demeanor hardens, sharpens, the adrenaline pumping in his veins sending him right into trial mode, ready to argue, to push his way to the right answer.

But before an argument can form in his mouth, he takes another breath. And he says, "They won't be harmed if I get in the car?"

They will lie to you, he's been told. They will trick you. It's not like Enoshima's game; those aligned with despair have no rules, no honor. Especially not if they valued those things before.

"The boss gives his word," the young woman replies. "They won't be harmed."

If she's telling the truth, then he has to get in the car. If she's not...then she still has a sword, is the thing. And even without it, she's bigger and he's alone.

"Then I hope your boss doesn't squander his word," Makoto says warily.

"And I hope you aren't stalling." Strangely, the young woman smirks. The look she's giving him now is almost fond. "I've told you once before that you aren't good at it. But you don't remember that, do you?"

Before he can wrap his head around that, gunshots start going off somewhere.

Makoto's blood runs cold, at the sound of far-off screams. "You said they wouldn't-!"

The young woman merely sighs, rolling her eyes and drawing her sword from her bag as languidly as though it's a tedious chore. "They're early," she says. "Heads will roll for that. My master wanted you to come willingly. It would have pleased him a great deal."

Makoto does his best to run, but she strikes him with the hilt just hard enough to dizzy (and no doubt bruise) him, and while he's disoriented, she hauls him into the car and locks the doors.

She buckles him in while he's blinking the stars out of his eyes and nursing the sore spot. By the time he's steadied himself enough to try to unbuckle himself or reach for the car door, her blade is already hovering at his throat.

She's sitting beside him, also buckled in. The car has started moving– some faceless driver, divided from them by tinted glass. "My master would prefer that I deliver you to him untied," she informs him, "but I am permitted to bind your wrists and ankles, should you make it necessary."

"Who are you?" he asks.

"You don't need a name to address me, with only two of us here. And once I deliver you to the boss, there will be no need for you to address me at all."

"But who are you?"

With a single, almost imperceptibly swift motion, her sword returns to its bag. "I am the sword on my back," she answers. "Don't waste your questions on a sword."

He falls asleep in the car; it's a long-ish ride. He doesn't mean to nod off, but subconsciously there's an assumption that when the car stops, he'll naturally wake up.

This does not happen.

Instead, he wakes up in someone's private study.

There are bookshelves, a big wooden desk and cushioned chair. The lights are off, but there's a fire in the fireplace. Makoto is sprawled across a small couch. The gray-haired woman stands with her back to the wall and her hands folded.

And a small figure stands warming by the fire. His back to Makoto, his whole form shadowed.

"You know," the young man says, "I really didn't expect you to survive."

Makoto's hand finds the sore spot on his head again. (For some reason, he's thinking of Mondo.) "I, uh, get that a lot."

A breathy laugh. "I'll fvcking bet. What else do you get a lot?"

"...That I'm short in person? That I should've told someone about Sakura. That I should see a doctor, because that fall might have caused internal damage. That my voice sounded kind of squeaky on TV. That my eyes actually look browner than they expected, or greener. That Sayaka..." He trails off. People...say a lot of things about Sayaka. That they used to be a fan of hers but would never see her the same, that they were still a fan and they hoped it was okay with him, that they'd been rooting for Makoto to figure out her plan before...Yeah, they say a lot of things.

Why is he telling a stranger any of this?

Is he stalling, knowing this conversation is likely to get a lot less friendly soon?

It doesn't feel like it. He does feel the dread of knowing that this abduction is clearly not a friendly one; he heard the gunshots earlier. He remembers that. But something in the way the young man at the fireplace laughed, the way the gray-haired woman smiled, before...He doesn't know them, but it seems like they know him. Not in the way of the people who feel they know him from watching the killing game. Talking to them feels like talking to people who actually know him.

"That Maizono b!tch," the young man scoffs. "I could have thrown up, watching you fawn over her fake *ss all over again."

And just like that, Makoto's curiosity takes a back seat. "Don't call her that!"

"Traitor-*ss b!tch. I was glad she died first."

Makoto springs to his feet, but he's barely taken two steps in the young man's direction before the gray-haired woman has once again blocked him with the edge of her blade. "Sayaka wasn't a traitor! She never wanted to hurt anyone! That was just what Junko drove her to!"

"...And that's saying something," the young man continues, ignoring Makoto's interruption, "because I was really wondering what it would feel like to watch you die. What I would become, after. I was really fvcking curious. Still am."

Makoto's fear doesn't supersede his anger; it just shapes it. "I don't know who you are," he says bluntly.

The young man's head turns slightly, but other than that he doesn't respond.

"Who are you?"

"The kid wants an introduction." His head turns toward the gray-haired woman. Though Makoto can't see his face, the smirk is audible in his voice as he continues, "Only, suppose we like to be forgotten."

"I figured you were probably someone I used to know...right?"

Once again, no verbal answer.

"Both of you," he continues. "Maybe...from my time at Hope's Peak Academy, or maybe-"

"Did I say his *ss could speak?" the young man inquires.

"You didn't, Young Master," the gray-haired woman says.

"I don't know what you want with me," Makoto continues firmly. "Or, what you think you're getting out of bringing me here, so it would help if you'd just tell me." After a second of silence, he added, "If you're someone who thinks I killed Junko-"

"You didn't kill Junko." The young man turns to face Makoto, but the darkness in the room and the fire at his back still make it impossible to really see his face. "Junko went out on her own terms. You didn't even push the button; all you did was win an unwinnable game. And those dumb*sses sure were desperate to hitch themselves to a winner."

"Who are you?"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm still fvcking pissed off that we all missed out on Plan A. She told us all about the execution she'd put herself through if she somehow lost, but Plan A was always a surprise. She was so sure she'd win."

"Who are you?"

"But that's not why you're here." Suddenly, the young man grabs a fistful of Makoto's shirt and drags him close. They're face to face. Makoto sees golden eyes and freckles. "No, you're here because I was denied the chance to watch you die. And like I said, I'm really fvcking curious."

Before Makoto can conceive of a response, he is shoved backwards to the carpeted floor.

"Take him to his room."

"H-Hey...!" Makoto winces as the gray-haired woman grabs him by the upper arm, yanks him to his feet, and drags him from the room.

[snivyartjpeg]

world's most pathetic wet death god performs worst boom-kill to ever grace this earth, asked to leave the mystery labyrinth

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

By Your Side Always

Summary: You comfort Astarion after he breaks down due to your near-death experience.

The last thing you feel before the ground hits you is a burning hot pain in your stomach where a sword had run you through, your mouth opening in a small ‘oh’. The last thing you hear is a familiar voice screaming out your name, filled with anxiety and fear. The last thing you think about is how Astarion would react when he saw your body. Would he mourn? Would he continue on with his life as though nothing had happened? You hoped that he would find the strength to carry on and become his own person, unafraid of others. With the last of your strength, you try to search for his face, wanting to see the vampire you had fallen hard for one last time, but darkness claims you before your eyes can lock with his.

“Y/N!”

The first thing you feel when you wake up is the coldness of someone’s hand tightly wrapped around yours. The first thing you hear is the soft whisper of his voice telling you that you’re safe, that he’s right here with you, sending waves of reassurance through you. The first thing you think about is whether you’re in heaven or hell, but that wouldn’t make sense since Astarion was here. You were pretty sure you died or something when that sword ran you through.

“Y/N.” You look up into ruby red eyes filled with concern.

“Star.” The word catches in your dry throat, sending you into a coughing fit. Astarion quickly hands you some water and makes sure you finish it all before speaking again.

“Where are we?” You rasp.

“At camp, darling. Don’t you worry,” he presses a quick kiss to your forehead.

“The goblins –”

“All take care of, dearest!” He chirps, far too chipper for your liking.

“Astarion, what happened to me?” The smile falls from his face, ruby red eyes downcast. He stares at the bedroll you’re lying on, playing with the cloth of his tunic before looking back up at you, his smile no longer reaching his eyes.

“Nothing Shadowheart couldn’t fix.” The smile is plastered to his face, a facade perfected over the course of almost 200 years but you see right through it immediately.

“Did I die?” You decide to go straight to the point.

“Well, I don’t believe I’m dead dead so I doubt you’d be seeing me if you were in the afterlife,” he gives a hollow laugh.

“Astarion,” you frown. “You don’t have to fake anything around me, I won’t hurt you.”

His face falls, his genuine feelings shining through at your words and you automatically reach out but he pulls away to compose himself. He fears he will simply break down if you were to hold him right there and then, giving you more problems. He’s on the cusp of baring himself to you, and the very thought scares him. He searches your face, looking for signs that you will tear him down after he’s shown how vulnerable he is but as per usual, finds nothing. The nagging voice in his head, however, says otherwise and he’s torn between trusting you and trusting that voice.

“If it’s too much for you, you don’t have to say anything. I’m just worried about you bottling it all up, I don’t want to see you suffer.” You force yourself to sit up despite the sharp pain the action brings, schooling your face to ensure Astarion doesn’t notice the pain you’re feeling. He’s already struggling with his own emotions, you don’t want to add to his burden.

“I thought you were dead.” The words leave his lips in a whisper. “I was afraid, far more afraid than I’ve ever been. Your barely conscious body scared me far more than Cazador ever could. You were lying so still with that damn sword sticking out of you and all I could do was wish that you were still alive, still breathing as Shadowheart did everything she could to heal you.”

He squeezes your hand so tightly it begins to hurt, his bottom lip trembles and he bites down on it to stop the trembling. Astarion can feel tears pricking at the edges of his eyes, a lump swelling in his throat that he tries to choke down.

“Didn’t work for me,” you grin, pressing a kiss to his tear-stained cheek. “I’m right here, alive, and the goblin who tried to kill me is dead.”

He clutches at your sleeve, desperately hugging you as he inhales your scent and feels the warmth of your skin against his. You’re here, alive, warm. Your heart is beating, a steady thrum in your chest that fills his ears and reassures him that you’re safe.

“I’m sorry,” he presses his forehead against yours, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left your side, I should have been faster, I should have seen the attack coming.”

“I failed you.”

He shrinks at his words, body tensing up. Sharp nails dig into his palms as terror floods his mind. He failed you. You’d punish him for it, kick him out of the party, leave him to fend for himself. He can’t bear the thought of leaving your side, he can’t envision a future where you’re not there, lying right next to him as you hold him in your embrace. He doesn’t want to.

“My star,” you murmur, reaching out to wrap him in your arms despite the twinge of pain in your chest. You can feel him shaking and your heart shatters, an ache that is replaced by a wave of anger at Cazador for what he did to your lover. You nuzzle into his soft silver hair, pulling him close so that you can tuck him in your embrace. The pain from your stab wound is nothing, not when your beloved so clearly needs you right now.

“You didn’t fail me. I’m alive, you killed the goblin who attacked me, and you’re right here, by my side. That’s all I need.” Pressing your lips against the top of his head, you gently rub circles on his back all whilst cuddling him. He leans into your touch, gripping your shirt and curls against you, biting back his sobs. He’s supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around and yet here he is, getting all emotional while you console him.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you whisper, pressing comforting kisses all over his face. “I promise, I won’t leave or abandon you. You’ll always have a place with me.”

“You…mean it?” He hates how pathetic he sounds but the soft look in your eyes eases some of his worries. You look at him with such genuine love and care, eyes devoid of the lust he’s used to seeing in the prey he brought back for Cazador and devoid of the malice Cazador’s eyes always held. Your every touch is filled with gentleness and warmth, flooding him with a nice feeling he can’t quite describe, he only knows he can never get enough of it.

“Of course, Astarion. You’re my star, I’ll get lost without you.” If your younger self could see you right now, they would never believe their eyes. It wasn’t long ago when you would do anything to avoid physical contact, hissing whenever anyone brushed against you, even if by accident, and yet here you were, initiating a hug so tight that Astarion would have suffocated should he have needed to breathe.

Astarion squeezes his eyes shut, imprinting the feeling of your arms around him in his mind. He feels safe, loved, needed in your embrace.

“Promise me,” he chokes. “Promise me you’ll never put yourself in such danger again, innocents be damned. I don’t care what happens to anyone else, I just need you to be safe.”

“Then I’ll need you to continue fighting by my side to guard my back, don’t I?” You run your fingers through his hair, admiring how soft it is despite its owner clearly not having taken care of it in a good while.

“I suppose you do. After all, what will you ever do without me?” A hint of confidence floods back into him, a small smile playing on his lips. He gives you a grateful look, undead heart soaring at your declaration of your need for him.

“Hmm, I don’t ever want to find that out,” you give him a peck on the lips, “but I would like my star to at least clean himself up before cuddling with me any further.”

“Anything for my love,” he happily nuzzles you. “I’ll see you in a bit, Shadowheart should be here any time now to check up on you. After that I’m all yours.”

“And I’m all yours too,” you smile. “Now go.”

With one last kiss, he reluctantly leaves your side and you let out a sigh of relief. He was dealing with your near-death experience rather well considering how new he was to having someone to call his own.

“No more martyring then,” you chuckle to yourself, “not when there’s someone who cares so deeply about me.”

[aemondsbabe]

Oathkeeper

summary: aemond comes to winterfell to vie for favor and while cregan has his mind set on backing rhaenyra, you remain unswayed. will your indecision be his saving grace?

pairing: aemond targaryen x stark!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, brat taming, aemond is a little shit, choking, mild degradation, oral sex (f receiving), very lyanna mormont coded reader, aemond whimpers, he's down bad tbh he loves it, angst, allusions to violence but no actual violence, please no one kill me for the end lmao, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 6.1k

a/n: happy 3k laura!! i'm so happy to be a part of this collab with you and so many of my other fantastically talented writer friends! check out the full milestone celebration here and the masterlist will be here!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @aemondtargaryensource

divider creds to @targaryen-dynasty

🦋my masterlist

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Icy air whips around you as you stand atop one of the many high stone battlements of Winterfell, eyes scanning the horizon; the grey earth and sky seem to meld together as one as the sun sets lower and lower. 

“It is our duty to hear them out, sister,” Cregan rumbles beside you, brow furrowed. Ice glimmers in your periphery when you glance over at him, the great sword strapped over your brother’s shoulder contrasts sharply against the deep black of the furs draped over his body, “If they come to us for aid, we must negotiate.”

The air around your lips turns to mist as you scoff, jaw clenched. Today, of all days, you could do without your brother’s condescending tone. 

“Negotiate,” you echo, pulling the thick white fur of your cloak more snugly over your shoulders as the wind seems to pick up, “They come with hardly any notice, with two dragons, and you still believe this is a negotiation?”

“Sister –”

“To call it anything but extortion is a fool’s game, Cregan,” you keep your eyes straight ahead, focused only on the horizon, when he turns to glare at you, nostrils flared. 

“Need I remind you that we are sworn to House Targaryen? That we have been for –”

“Which House Targaryen?” You swiftly counter, cutting your gaze to his with a biting scowl of your own. The wind gusts again yet you pay it no mind, hardly noticing when a shadow passes overhead. 

An all encompassing roar seems to vibrate the very air around you and you whip your head up just in time to see a behemoth of a beast duck down below the clouds, followed swiftly by a smaller, though no less monstrous, one that lets out a resounding cry of its own. 

“Gods be good,” you sigh, already feeling weary of this whole endeavor; you roll your eyes when you look to Cregan, only to find him positively beaming, entranced. You, however, would not be so easily wooed – of that, you were determined. 

Glowering, you turn your face to the sky once more and watch as the creatures circle one another, huffing when it dawns on you that their movements strikingly resemble two riders racing on horseback, goading and taunting one another. 

Shaking your head, your chest heaves with a tired groan, Seven Hells.

“I shall see you in the Great Hall when you have finished fawning,” you sigh once more before turning, leaving your brother to stand like some open-mouthed whore, gawping at the sky.

“My Prince and… my Prince,” Cregan’s voice echoes throughout the great stone hall, accompanied by the steady crackle of the enormous fireplace at its back wall, “We bid you welcome to the North, I trust your journey’s were pleasant ones.” 

The tension in the air is nearly palpable as you stand beside your brother, carefully watching the two dragonriders.The one on the left, Prince Jacaerys, stares straight ahead at Cregan, as if he doesn’t trust himself to look anywhere else. His dark brows are set in a slight scowl and his gloved hand hasn’t once risen from the pommel of his sword since he dismounted his dragon, who you’ve been informed bears the name Vermax.

Your gaze, however, seems continually pulled to the right, determined to see through the cool mask of indifference Prince Aemond wears. Unlike Jacaerys, his singular lilac eye had been busy flicking all about the space, though he stood stock still with a haughty manner about him, hands clasped behind his back. 

“‘Twas a fine journey, yes,” Aemond hums, looking first at Cregan and then to you; his gaze is piercing and you can’t help but wonder if the rumors among the smallfolk are true – that he’d replaced his lost eye with some sort of gemstone, “Vhagar and I were fortunate to not encounter… anything of note.”

Your eyes move quickly to Jacaerys, breaking from Aemond’s stare once you catch the pointed tone of his words, slicing through the air like daggers. His jaw clenches, though only for a second, as you silently pray that this does not end in the two men coming to blows, or worse. 

“My journey was quite pleasant, my Lord Stark, thank you,” a small part of you is impressed that he seems determined not to let his emotions run amuck. He steps forward and pulls a rolled piece of parchment from the inner pocket of the thick, fur-lined cloak he wears, “I come with a message from my mother, the Queen.”

Beside him, Aemond quickly steps forward as well, producing a similar scroll, close enough to you that you’re able to just make out an image of House Targaryen’s three-headed dragon embossed on the golden wax seal. “And I come bearing a message from King Aegon, Second of His Name,” he pauses, looking between you and Cregan, glancing almost imperceptibly toward Prince Jacaerys, “Who currently sits the Iron Throne.”

“Usurper,” Jacaerys mutters under his breath, nose twitching in annoyance.

“Say that again,” Aemond’s voice is low as he whips around to face Jacaerys, all but shoving the scroll he brought into your hands. 

“That is my mother’s throne,” the brunette replies, simmering with a barely contained rage as he hands over Rhaenyra’s terms to Cregan in a similar manner, “Your drunken fool of a brother has no right to it.”

Your heart thrums in your chest as they stare one another down, the hostility between them seems to suck all the air from the room and bathe it in a silence you’ve only ever felt in the crypts. 

“And who would bend the knee for a whore with bastard heirs, nephew?” Aemond’s footfalls echo about the hall as he stalks around the other prince, circling him with a goading smirk, “She could not honor the oaths made to her husband, I shudder to think what would become of her promises to the realm.”

Your eyes widen and a gasp is wrenched from your throat when Jacaerys whirls around with a snarl and the sound of metal-on-metal grates through the air as both men unsheath decorated daggers from their belts; they stumble a few steps back, chests heaving as they each wait for the other to make the first move. 

“Do it,” Aemond taunts, lips twisted into a wicked smile while he and Jacaerys circle one another. Raising a hand, he pulls the black leather eyepatch from his face and tosses it to the floor, clearly relishing the way the other prince falters at the sight of his uncovered face. The deep blue sapphire he reveals gleams in the light from the fire, the sight of it makes your breath hitch, “Finish what your bastard brother started, go on.”

“Cease this!” Cregan shouts, voice firm, though he may as well not have spoken at all for all the good it does – each man only sparing him a glance. 

“I did not come to fight you,” the brunette huffs, scowling at his uncle while keeping a firm grip on the hilt of his dagger.

“No?” Aemond questions sardonically, “You’ve no wish to prove your might, hm? To show the realm how strong you are?”

The remark sounds like any other taunt to you, yet something about it seems to make the fire simmering within Jacaerys blaze closer to the surface – too close. You can see it coming before it happens from the way he tenses, from the miniscule twitch of his hand.

Acting quickly, you lunge for the great longsword strapped to your brother’s back and unsheath it without a second thought. Cregan reacts just as swiftly and clambers for you when you turn on your heel and rush over to where the two men glower at one another. From the corner of your eye, you see Jacaerys lunge forward but you cut off his movement as you swing Ice over your head. 

Metal crashes against metal, filling the hall with a shrill clang, before the great sword slams against the stone floor with a cacophonous din. Everything comes to a sudden halt as the loud noise sends a shock through the hall. 

“Enough!” The word leaves your lips as a snarl while you stare between the two men, nose twitching in annoyance, “How dare you sully our home with such feckless, asinine bickering!” 

Each of the princes sheaths his dagger in silence, though you hold the sword between them still, the tip of it digging into the stone as you keep hold of the pommel. “I’ve no doubt that were those creatures outside to engage like this that they could easily rip Winterfell to pieces, stone by stone, and yet they remain peaceful! Tell me, do you have baser morals than that of a beast?” Your voice is low as you speak, every ounce of patience you had for this idiotic farce wrung from you, “Is this the kind of man House Targaryen sets upon the realm?” 

“Apologies, my lady… my lord,” Jacaerys murmurs, glancing between you and Cregan before quickly staring down at the floor, his jaw set. 

You give him a curt nod before training your eyes on the silver-haired prince and narrowing them expectantly; he holds your gaze for only a second before looking off into the fire with a sigh, “Apologies.” 

Cregan reaches for the sword again and this time you relinquish it without a fight, turning your attention back to the two scrolls abandoned on the longtable – one carrying a gold seal, the other a black one, both bearing the three-headed dragon emblem.

Your brother sighs behind you and you can practically feel him throwing an icy glance at the two men before he joins you at the table, leaning back against the edge of it and crossing his arms over his broad chest. 

“We will hear your terms,” he starts, ignoring the way your head whips around to face him, “As is our sworn duty, but there will be no violence in these halls.”

“No.”

“Sister –”

“Not tonight,” you shake your head firmly, glancing over your shoulder at the princes before leaning closer to Cregan, voice low enough that it doesn’t carry in through the hall, “‘Tis late and they are on edge as is. Any negotiations will not go peacefully tonight.”

He turns his head toward you with a soft sigh; you tilt your head just slightly when your eyes meet, communicating silently, with only a look, as you have since the two of you were small. 

“Please,” you think, your gaze flicking between his blue eyes, lips set in a firm line, “Listen to me, just this once.”

Finally, after a long moment, he simply nods and looks back at the two men still standing in the hall, looking pointedly away from each other now. 

“We will hear your terms in the morning,” you announce, turning to face them, your expression set and neutral, “The hour is late and I imagine the two of you are tired from your travels, the –”

“Lady Stark,” Aemond starts, stepping forward, jaw clenched with barely contained annoyance, “W–”

“We will hear your terms in the morning and that is final, my prince,” you repeat, enunciating each word firmly, leaving no room for whatever argument he was intending to make. You glance between the two men again, watching as he gives a polite, stiff nod. 

Sighing tiredly, you give Cregan one last withering look before turning on your heel. “The servants will show you to your quarters,” you call over your shoulder, grabbing the gold sealed scroll from the longtable on your way to the doors without sparing the men another look. 

By the grace of the Gods, you manage to have a few peaceful hours to yourself. The castle remains quiet, save for the usual bustling of various servants and guards. The crackling of the small hearth in your chambers is the only sound that accompanies you while you read over the terms Prince Aemond brought with him, which were fairly generous, all things considered. 

Only one point gave you pause, perhaps King Aegon’s greatest gift – the offer of his brother’s hand. You wrinkle your nose in disgust when you read over that bit, although you had expected it. It’s no secret that you, Winterfell’s greatest prize as you’d been told time and time again since you were old enough to even somewhat comprehend the idea of marriage, are unclaimed. Of course the Greens would exploit that, the Blacks probably did as well.

Of course any other weaker Lady would take the offer. 

Unconsciously, you clench your jaw as you gaze into the fire, watching the flames dance while you think over the terms set before you, etched cleanly on the parchment. You get up from your place at the desk to go see if Cregan has finished reading over Rhaenyra’s terms, quite curious to see what it is she’s offering up. 

“Gods!” You exclaim when a sudden knock at your chamber door cuts through the peaceful silence of the night, startles you enough that you grab at the edge of your desk to keep the bottle of ink there from spilling. Corking it, you let out an annoyed little grumble as you stand.

“Enter!” You call out, smoothing out the silken, fur lined fabric of your evening robes, the soft blue color sparkling like seafoam in the light from the fire. Your brows pinch together in equal parts annoyance and intrigue as a certain white-haired prince saunters through the door, his lips set together in a firm line, as if deep in thought. 

“Prince Aemond,” you huff, bristling when he closes the door behind him, “The hour is quite late, surely whatever you’ve come for can wait until the morning.”

He pauses at that, not moving from his place in the entryway. Confusion wells up within you when he doesn’t meet your gaze, his lilac eye blinking as his lips open just slightly – something clearly weighs quite heavily on his mind. 

“I apologize for the late hour, my Lady,” he murmurs, finally looking up as he takes a few steps into your chambers, arms clasped behind his back, “But I do not think the matter can wait until morning, no. I don’t believe that would be wise.”

“Speak, then,” you nod with a sigh, resting against the arm of a small sofa by the fire. You try your best to hide your annoyance, feeling certain that whatever the Prince had come to you with is not nearly as serious as he seems to believe.

Aemond remains quiet for a few seconds more and you can practically see the wheels turning in his brain, something brewing just below the surface. “I… Did you intend to make a fool of me, Lady Stark?”

“What?”

“I’m aware that my coming, and that of my nephew, were… sudden,” he continues, leaving you utterly perplexed, which only makes you clench your jaw, already exasperated at this entire exchange, “But, had you and Lord Cregan made it clear that you had already come to an agreement, I could’ve left — been on my way to the Stormlands and saved us all the trouble.” 

“Seven Hells, why must he speak in riddles,” you think, squeezing your eyes shut and pinching your brow tiredly. 

“Prince Aemond, perhaps I could be of some help if you spoke your concerns more plainly,” you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest and peering at him once more, “However, I can assure you that Cregan and I have decided nothing. He and I have planned to take the evening to read over yours and Prince Jacaerys’s terms, which we will discuss in the morning.” 

“Mm, then am I to believe that your lord brother plots without your knowledge, my Lady? I find that hard to believe.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Aemond paces, smirking as he traipses back and forth before you, acting like he can see clearly through some false plot you’ve set… if only you’d set one at all. 

“I overheard them, Cregan and Jace, in the library — I cannot seem to find sleep and thus was wandering the halls,” he murmurs, quickly explaining his actions before you have time to ask, “Surely you’re aware that your brother intends to support my traitorous sister.” 

His words should come as a shock, that Cregan would do something like this behind your back, and yet you can’t find it within yourself to be truly surprised. Ever since he’d become Warden of the North, he’d become… hardened, even to you. Before, he would’ve never dared do this, would’ve considered your thoughts as carefully as his own, but not anymore. 

“My brother may be decided,” you start, voice clipped, “But I have yet to come to a decision.” 

The prince hums yet again, something he seems to do often much to your great displeasure. He studies you for a moment, lilac eye never wavering from yours, before looking away with a tsk. “And yet, from what I overheard, he seems quite convinced that you have.” 

You scoff at that and push yourself off the arm of the sofa, placing your hands on your hips as you blink at him for a moment while the corners of your lips twitch with the threat of a smirk, “I must confess, my Prince, but I do not know how to proceed. We seem to be at an impasse – I assure you of one thing and yet you cling to your belief in another.”

“So it would seem.”

His calm reply does nothing to lessen your irritation and your chest heaves with a sigh, jaw clenching. “Well, then,” you huff, no longer patient enough to keep the frustration out of your tone, “What would you have me do, hm?”

“Perhaps,” your eyes narrow at the indifference with which he speaks – an act, you’re sure of it, “It would bring me some comfort if we could come to some… agreement of our own. As your brother and my nephew seem so eager to do.”

“As I’ve said, I do not wish to discuss the matter further. ‘Tis late, my Prince, and I see no point in staying up half the night to do something that can be accomplished just as well tomorrow.”

“Mm,” he hums, pacing around you and further into your chambers, to your great annoyance. You turn, watching him as he saunters through the space, acting as if it’s his own, only to come to a stop beside your desk. 

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips just as he feigns surprise at seeing the scroll he’d brought with him unfurled over the wooden surface, “But, you have read the king’s terms, no? Surely discussing them would not take long.”

“Discussing them, no,” you acquiesce, gritting your teeth, “My thoughts of accepting them, on the other hand…”

You can tell he’s only half-listening as you speak, focused on reading over the notes you’d scrawled in the margins of the document – questions of various assurances and the like… aside from one particular line which you’d hastily crossed through. A shiver goes down your spine when his eye trails up from the parchment to once again meet yours, darkened with some new sense of resolve.

“You are aware that the crown has the ability to strip you and Lord Cregan of your titles, yes? Especially if I were to inform my council of your plot against me…”

Your heart quickens at his warning, thumping meanly in your chest while you try to process his words. “All this over a simple marriage offer?” You think as your brows pinch together in a scowl; you do not take kindly to such threats.

“Over my brother’s right to the throne…,” Aemond murmurs and it’s only then you realize you must’ve spoken aloud, not hearing your own words due to the turmoil in your head, the rush of blood in your ears, “Over my family’s safety, yes. I would be willing to dole out harsher reminders as well, if need be.” 

“You must understand, this is not a slight against you, nor your council,” fire rages within you as the winds outside pick up, howling throughout the castle, “I have no want to be bound to anyone –”

“Think of the station you’d have,” he cuts you off, determination seeming to well up within him the same way it does you; each of you is ready for a fight, “The power you could wield in King’s Landing, everything you could do to benefit –”

“You could not drag me from the North kicking and screaming, I have no desire to go –”

“My Lady, you are intelligent, ‘tis plain to see,” he murmurs lowly, indignation finally managing to bleed through his placid exterior while he paces about, circling you just as he did Prince Jacaerys, “Surely you realize that your talents will be wasted here, squandered to the cold, frozen waste –”

“Do you think insulting my home is the way to win me over, my Prince?”

“Mm,” his dismissive hum alights a spark within you and your hands curl to fists at your side, “No, though I suspect flattery would do no good either.”

His words are sharp, spoken with the sole purpose of cutting into you, yet all they draw is an angry huff. You can see his eye narrow in your periphery, can feel him studying you, no doubt trying to find a way to make you crack. 

A part of you hopes he’ll succeed. 

“So, you see, I’ve no other choice than to resort to threats,” he hums, long silken hair swaying over his shoulders as he finally comes to a stop before you, close enough that you’re forced to raise your chin to maintain eye contact. 

“Should you be fool enough to try, you will not succeed in taking the North, my Prince,” you say softly, a quiet calm blanketing your fury just as snow blankets the fields outside, “Even Aegon the Conqueror could not, surely you know that.” 

Something dangerous flashes in his eye at that and your eyes narrow with the knowledge that you’ve crossed some invisible boundary, gone a step too far. 

He stays quiet for a moment, just long enough for the eye of the storm within you to pass, for the maelstrom to be ignited once more. 

“Surely you’ve heard tale of the wrath the Conqueror brought upon Harrenhal, Lady Stark,” his voice is low when he finally speaks, though there is no softness to it; only a harshness, a finality, that would surely make anyone else grovel for forgiveness at his feet, “Reduced to a pile of ash and molten stone… even now, more than a century later, it stands as a ruin – a cursed place…”

Your jaw clenches tightly at his words, eyes narrowing as you stare into his own as if challenging him to say it, to finish his threat.

“It would be quite a shame if that same doom was brought to Winterf–”

Aemond lets out a grunt when his back thuds against the stone wall behind him, gasping and caught off guard by your sudden advance. 

“Have you no shame?” Your words are biting as you snap at him; fury pours off of you in waves, your entire being concentrated down into rows of gnashing teeth, “You come into my home, unbidden. You threaten to spill blood in my hall, you feel entitled to my time and my space and my thoughts and my hand, all unbidden.”

For the first time all evening, the prince seems to have no response, not even a condescending hum. He stands frozen on the spot, held against the wall by your forearm pinned across his chest. The air feels like it evaporates from the room, leaving the two of you in some sort of bubble where the only sound is Aemond’s harsh pants. You see his angular nose twitch and his lips press firmly together as a sneer forms on his pale face. 

There’s a cruel, almost savage, gleam in his eye that should scare you, that maybe actually would, were it not for the soft pink flush spilling across his cheeks and an undercurrent of something resembling shame in his gaze – the expression of a child being scolded by a parent, caught doing something they shouldn’t. 

The strangeness of it brings you to heel for a second, only for the anger within you to flare up once more when he starts to open his mouth, starts to push himself off of the cool stone at his back. 

“Don’t,” you huff, narrowing your eyes and pressing back against his chest. A bitter laugh bubbles up from your throat as you stare at him, surprised once more when he quickly gives in and lets you push him back, “I bet you’re quite used to getting your way, hm? You’re a prince of the realm, of course you are.”

With each passing second, your ire for him seems to be slowly replaced by a growing curiosity — Why isn’t he fighting back? What kind of game is he playing at? 

“Entitled prince,” your heart quickens when his breaths start coming more harshly and his chest heaves against beneath your arm, “You hold no power here.” 

Aemond’s nostrils flare and his lilac eye narrows, just as fiery and intimidating as before. Your lips part when his hands come to rest on your waist, far too delicately for the situation. 

“Might I remind you,” he mutters, a rumble to his voice that hadn’t been there before, “That the crown—“

“The crown, the crown, the crown,” you lean in, nearly on your tiptoes, just a hair’s breadth away from touching your nose to his. Without considering the movement, your free hand wraps itself around his pale neck, not squeezing but merely resting there, pressing against his Adam’s apple — a reminder for him to remain silent, “Why is it that you lean so heavily on something you do not even have, my Prince?” 

You can feel him swallow against the palm of your hand, once again not fighting back. Though, it’s only when you meet his half-lidded eye and see that heady, shameful spark hiding there does the truth finally hit you. 

“Gods, he likes this,” your eyes widen ever so slightly at the realization, such a mighty, fearsome prince and yet he’s all but melting under your touch. The feeling is rather intoxicating and you feel a rush of power flow through you, making the hair at the nape of your neck stand on end. 

“I don’t see a crown on your pretty head,” you continue leaning into the feeling, intending on leveraging his submission to whatever extent you can, “Doesn’t that bother you, Aemond? Hm? Being reduced to the second son when you could’ve been so much more…”

“V-Vhagar could—“

“Vhagar could do nothing,” your fist tightens around the column of his throat as you press yourself more tightly against him, the thin fabric of your evening robe the only thing separating you from the warm black leather of his tunic, “Not if I take my brother’s sword and go slit her great belly myself.” 

He balks at that, brows furrowing as he stares at you — half in fury, half in wonder. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off again, not interested in hearing another half-baked threat. 

“Does it bother you that I don’t find you the least bit intimidating?” You question, narrowing your eyes at him. 

A grin blooms on your lips when he just barely shakes his head, the movement so subtle and so quick that you hardly catch it — though it sends lightning down your spine all the same.

“No? It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Again, he shakes his head, more firmly this time; his throat bobs beneath your grip, “Do you like it? That you can’t scare me?” 

He nods — not good enough. 

“Say it,” you command, tightening your grip on his neck once more. 

“I… I like it…,” he answers after a long moment, his voice hardly a whisper.

“Good boy.” 

He whimpers, the small sound vibrates against your hand. A shock goes through you and before you can fully register what you’re doing, you release his chest and neck and haul him toward your bed — that barely there whine enough to ignite a fire in your belly. 

You can see the confusion written plainly on his face when you sit on the edge of your mattress and gaze up at him expectantly, you try not to focus on the little flip your heart does at the fact that he’d followed you so willingly, like a little puppy. 

“Kneel,” you command, nearly giddy when he actually does, actually sinks to his knees before you. You lean forward and quickly tug off his eyepatch, eager to see the sapphire once more, and again, you’re shocked when he doesn’t put up a fight. 

Tossing the small scrap of leather to the side, you stop for a moment and admire the glimmering gemstone, even admiring the long, thin scar that adorns his otherwise flawless face. 

“You’ve been a thorn in my side all evening,” your fingers card through his hair while you speak, your voice low, hardly louder than the crackle of the logs in the fire, “Starting fights, coming to my chambers in the middle of the night for matters I said I would not be discussing, talking back… and I can think of much better uses for this mouth.”

Aemond’s breath hitches when you cup his jaw and skim a thumb over his bottom lip, grinning when he just barely follows your touch. With your free hand, you tug your robe open at the slit going up your leg, just enough to show him you’re bare beneath it.

“If… if I do this, you’ll back Aegon?” He rasps, staring up at you from his place on the floor as his hands come to rest gingerly on your thighs, “You’ll agree to his terms?”

“Of course…”

“… All of his terms?”

“All of them,” you echo breathily, sighing softly when he leans in and kisses the top of one knee, a smug grin on his lips despite the situation. 

If only he didn’t make this so easy. 

“Enough talking,” you grab at his pale hair and shamelessly pull him to where you need him, smirking at the little gasp that leaves his lips once he’s face to face with your center, “Show me what it is I’ve agreed to.”

For all his faults, Aemond doesn’t make you wait and quickly dives in — licking a solid line up the middle of your folds, groaning as he goes. His hands tighten around your thighs and he eagerly spreads them wider, shifting on the floor until he’s pressed closer to you. 

“Oh, f-fuck!” You gasp, leaning back on an elbow, though you keep a grip on his hair and use it to drag him directly to your aching pearl, arching your back when he hungrily suckles at it. His eagerness makes the fire in your belly burn bright right away and you swallow thickly, battling against the dryness at the back of your throat. 

Aemond growls against you and dutifully licks over your bud, flicks his tongue against it again and again until your head spins. Your thighs tighten around his head but he’s quick to press against them once more and hold you open, fingers digging into your supple flesh. 

“Good boy,” you pant, relishing the way his eye rolls back. Biting at your bottom lip, you yank his hair once more — guiding him to your entrance. He catches on quickly and another almighty gasp is wrenched from your throat when he pushes his tongue inside you, making you shiver. 

“Seven Hells!” Your hips buck against his face of their own accord when his angular nose brushes against your pearl, sending a jolt of pleasure down your spine. Your walls clench down around his tongue, pulling twin whines from the both of you. 

Knowing you won’t be able to hang on for much longer, you press his face against your core and rock your hips more earnestly against his face; your eyes nearly go cross when he groans deeply against you, squeezing at your thighs hard enough to surely leave behind bruises. 

“T-That’s it, that’s it,” you chant, chest heaving. It feels as if lava flows through your veins each time he presses his tongue against you, the fire inside you burning brighter by the moment. 

Suddenly, he moves on his own accord and nips softly at your pearl before suckling at it once more. The sudden turn of events causes you to snap and finally slip over the edge, making fireworks explode behind your eyelids. 

“A-Aemond, Gods!” You cry, harshly tugging at his hair, nearly ripping it from its roots as pleasure beats against you in waves. You’re so lost within yourself that you hardly hear him growl against you, low and heady. 

You shove him away after a moment when his touches begin to border on overstimulation and lie panting on the bed, dropping to your back against the warm blankets and staring, half-lidded, at the ceiling. 

You can hear the shuffle of his clothes as he pushes himself up off the floor but you don’t bother sitting up, limp still from your peak. It’s not until he speaks that you finally look up. 

“I take it I’ve fully persuaded you, then?” He hums, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. Leaning up on your elbows once more, you look him over — taking in the flush on his cheeks, the way his chest thrums under the dark leather of his tunic, the evidence of his arousal pressing tightly against the ties of his trousers. 

Gods, what a desperate thing — wanting so badly for validation.

“Well, I’ll still need to read over Rhaenyra’s terms…”

“But —“

“But nothing,” you snap, sitting up once more on the edge of the bed, “I must at least operate under the pretense of being fair, no? Cregan will know if I don’t come to collect the papers your nephew brought.” 

Aemond nods stiffly, lips set in a thin line as he looks you over. Your heart speeds up just slightly when his lilac eye pauses at your chest, darkening at the way your robe has loosened, showcasing your cleavage. 

“True,” he acquiesces, brushing a lock of hair from your shoulder, “It would be smartest for us to be careful now…” 

He leans down, intending to kiss your cheek, perhaps even your lips or neck, but you put a hand up to stop him — shaking your head with a small smirk and a raised brow. 

“That’ll be all.” 

His brows furrow at your words, eye searching your face, “I thought —“

“I need to rest,” you cut him off, nodding to the door, “Goodnight, my Prince. I hope sleep finally finds you.” 

“I…” he starts, staring at you for a second, absolutely crestfallen, before simply nodding. “Lady Stark,” he mumbles, finally turning and seeing himself out, hands clasped behind his back. 

“Poor thing,” you think with a sigh as soon as your door shuts behind him, “He has no business here.” 

You’re hit with a wave of deja vu as you take your place next to Cregan, each of you standing before the long table at the head of the Great Hall. Once again, the place is as silent as a crypt, the only sound being the steady crackle of the fireplace. 

You stare straight ahead, focusing intently on the opposite wall while your brother addresses the two princes — exchanging morning pleasantries and worried smiles. Throughout his small speech, you can practically feel Aemond’s gaze on you, like he’s determined to sear a hole straight through you. 

“I have read your terms carefully, both of them,” Cregan states, each of the scrolls laid out on the table behind you, “And I propose that House Stark honor will keep faith with its alliance to Lady Rhaenys, in memory of the oath we once swore to King Viserys.” 

“Very well,” Prince Jacaerys nods, giving your brother a small, polite smile and grateful nod. 

“And what say you, my Lady?” Aemond cuts in, determined to force your hand, for you to make good on your assurances from last night. 

The desperation in his eye almost makes you feel bad.

With a sigh, you finally look up at him for the first time all morning, immediately noting the dark circles beneath his eye. Breaking from his intense, nearly pleading gaze, you look toward Prince Jacaerys with a small smile.

“I’m afraid I must agree with my dear brother,” your voice is cold, emotionless as it rings throughout the stony room, “House Stark will not be breaking its oath today.” 

Aemond lets out a sharp, stuttering breath, as if he’d been punched in the gut and his shoulders sag in defeat. 

And you almost feel bad, only for a moment. 

Almost.

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

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[generalsmemories]

The general has escaped... again

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: what's more stressful than managing the internal affairs of luofu you ask? making sure that your husband actually stays in one place when he's ordered to.

✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, humor, mentions of other characters, spoilers for 1.3 trailblaze mission, spoilers for the end of IL Dan Heng's companion quest

✧ a/n: under one patch update (1.3) this man has managed to run away from bedrest a total of 3 times, as such i'm obligated to write this - behold, the brainrot of the week. once again, jing yuan only appears at the very end, but this whole fic is just how everyone is stressing over how this overgrown cat can escape from right under their noses. not beta-ed as usual fellas.

There's a heavy silence lingering in the air around the Realm keeping commission. For once, the commission has been closed to the public for an hour to discuss internal affairs - is what the citizens of Luofu believes at least.

You don't seem affected by the tense silence, Yanqing notices. He's standing before you, glancing around the other tense officials that's seated by their own desk. The two alchemy commission members present with him seem equally as confused as to why you've summoned them here.

It's only when they hear you place your brush down that they all stand up straight, attention back on you now that you've started to move again.

"I have a favor to ask," you start off, looking at the three people in front of you.

"The general is currently still on bedrest, and the master diviner has temporarily taken his role as the acting general master while he rests, correct?" you ask, to no one in particular.

But it's the newly appointed chief alchemist, Yuluo that answers you, "That is indeed correct."

"However, knowing the general he might start to move the moment he feels some sort of movement come back to his muscles," you point out, having risen from your chair during the (mostly one-sided) conversation to stand before your desk, leaning slightly back towards it with your arms crossed.

"Which is why, I need you all to keep an eye on him," you declare in the end, "The general won't be straying far away from the Exalting Sanctum for reasons you all might know, so I would have to trouble both you and Jinwen to make the trips back and forth from the alchemy commission to assess his conditin from time to time. But Yanqing, you'll mostly have the responsibility to ensure that he doesn't try to do anything else than rest, okay?"

You were already fully aware that you gave the three people before you an impossible task.

And the three people before you was also aware of the fact, but what more could they do but bow their head slightly in confirmation with a resounding, "As you order."

Yanqing is pouting before you, picking at his food before you whilst you merely gaze at him from the other end of the table, "Not hungry? I thought this was your favorite restaurant," you say, in response Yanqing merely levels a glare at you. It doesn't reach his eyes because he has no animosity, you're pretty sure he's just irritated.

"... I tried," he membles after another few minutes of silence. The quiet confession making you chuckle, "I'm aware, I'm surprised you even managed to keep him laying down for so long."

"... I even nailed down a few swords by the covers so it would be harder for him to pull them off," he adds, stabbing a stray tomato with one chopstick to emphazise his point before shoving it in his mouth, "But then he's already dressed and waiting by the door when I went to the toilet to attend the ceremony that was held for the deceased! [Name], he was even waiting for me with a smile!"

Your smile softens upon hearing his complaints, a finger pushing a glass of water towards the boy before you as a silent suggestion for him to drink it, "I already anticipated that he would do that, so why the long face still?"

"Because he refused to go back to rest right after the ceremony ended! And what else can I do, but heed his order with so many people around?" Yanqing huffs, crossing his arms as his food is now forgotten with his irritation overturning his appetite.

"Well he's resting now isn't he? Jinwen is currently staying at the manor to make sure he doesn't step foot outside. The day of the ceremony would've also been one of the last times he could get in contact with our guests from the Astral Express too, I'm sure he wanted to give them that jade abacus himself."

Not to mention the fact he personally went to the shackling prison right after handing it- alone nonetheless.

You omit the part of information from Yanqing. The topic itself still brings a tense atmosphere between you and Jing Yuan after all.

But before you can placate the small lieutenant any further, you can feel hurried footsteps making their way towards your table. And when you turn your head around to look at the commotion, you find Jinwen panting before you, right behind her one of the Cloud Knights assigned to the manor. And even with a mask on you just know that they're not looking at you.

"[Name]..." Jinwen starts, and you hum whilst fishing up your wallet, "Yes?"

"The general..." she starts, reluctantly looking around, fiddling her thumbs in nervousness. You just hand Yanqing the money before standing up, "He's escaped again, hasn't he?" you confirm, eyebrow raising up in question.

The healer before you merely nods, "I-I'm sorry, I have no idea where he went, I went back to the kitchen to prepare the next dosage of medicine and when I checked again he had suddenly just vanished - the guards didn't even know anything either."

"Even if they knew, they can't really go against their general, can they?" you point out with a laugh, patting the distressed healer on the shoulder before looking over at the Cloud Knight behind Jinwen, "Gather some more Cloud Knights and tell them to meet up at the alchemy commission as soon as possible."

You let out a sigh, rubbing your templates as if that would soothe the headache that's about to form from listening to the Disciples before you yap away whilst getting their hands bound behind their back.

"I want to preface that with the main disaster onboard the Luofu is over, you are aware that we have more personnel at the ready to apprehend you?" you point out, directing your gaze away from the harbor of the alchemy commission where the trailblazer, Dan Heng and Jing Yuan were currently standing to face the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus before you.

Knowing your husband, he's already aware that you're here.

"... And the fact that even after you failed to eliminate Jing Yuan back in september 5 times, and yet still tried again today - and even trying to take two Vidyadhara's along with him? I understand the confidence you had back when the disaster first struck, but now?" you laugh is disbelief. You're aware that it's futile to try to discuss the matter with the Disciples, but everything was worth a shot.

They'll always give the same response after all. Once the general is gone, everything will go more smoothly, once you see the true vision you would agree with them and so on.

It was getting quite tiring.

"Either way, I've contacted the Ten-Lords commission, we will probably have to make a trip to Scalegorge Waterscape to check for any stragglers, but I'm sure the Ten-Lords will have this matter under control..." you mutter, noticing the trailblazer and Dan Heng approach you, "Trailblazer, and mister Dan Heng, have you finished the matters at hand?"

Dan Heng nods, glancing at the tied up Disciples before you, to which you only wave it off, "Yes... And thank you for taking care of the ones over here," he mumbles, giving you a curt nod.

"All in a day's work, do have a safe trip back home though," you voice, "And if you were to ever return to the Luofu for whatever reason, do send me a message. I can at least assure that you'll be somewhat safer than today. I apologize for the inconvenience that these people have caused you," you add on, gesutring towards the Disciples while ignoring the surprise in his eyes.

Dan Heng doesn't say anything, only giving you another nod as a confirmation before walking off.

"Well then, with all that done..." looking back over to the docks, you find Jing Yuan already staring up from his spot at you, giving you a small smile and a small wave of his hand.

"... Of course he's overexhausted himself."

"Do you enjoy making everyone around you worry? I think Jinwen aged a couple of decades with the stunt you pulled today," you start to nag the moment you're within earshot of Jing Yuan - your husband merely chuckling at your exasperated face as you stomp over.

"I apologize, dear. I just had an inkling that something would go awry with their journey. Finding you would've taken longer and Lady Fu Xuan is already busy as the acting general in my absence. So I figured this was the best course of action," he tries to reason, but he can never reason with you when it comes to his wellbeing - no matter how many times he's tried in the past.

So you don't answer him. You only stare at him, close enough for him to see your dissatisfication, but far enough for him to not be able reach you or hold you in his arms.

"... I do admit I'm pretty weary though, I think this is the last time I'll violate the healers' order," he admits in the end with a defeated sigh, raising his arms a bit as a silent request, "Can I request the assistance of my dear spouse in these trying times?" he jests.

However, Jing Yuan is well aware of the fact that you're still very much weak to the few times he does request help.

As with any matter with Jing Yuan that you're inevitably forced to pick up, you can only sigh as you step closer. Weaving your fingers between his own to pull him a bit closer before leaning in to give him a brief peck on the lips.

You then weave your fingers away from his own in favor to wrapping your arms around his waist in a snug embrace, Jing Yuan taking the chance to wrap his own arms around yours before he leans his entire weight on you.

The extra weight makes you let out a grunt of surprise, but Jing Yuan has already buried his face into your neck, letting out a deep exhale into your skin which makes it tingle while his shoulders slump, "... You big lion, you're rivaling Mimi's clinginess at this point," you whisper with a chuckle.

"I haven't seen my dear spouse since they had ordered me to be bedridden, I'm sure you can handle a little clinginess," Jing Yuan mumbles back, kissing the juncture of your neck.

"Yeah, yeah. As an apology for caring about your health, what about we try to get home so that you can properly rest on a bed instead of leaning your entire weight on your dear spouse?"

Jing Yuan hums in appreciation, leaning back to cup your cheek with a smile, "I think that sounds wonderful," he confirms before pressing his lips back on your own.

[writingoddess1125]

Morticia and Gomez Effect

Mihawk X FemReader

Since Mihawk is based off of Dracula (Duh) and his whole goth dilf attitude it would make sense he's Romanian 🇷🇴

Also I drank some wine 🍷 before this so enjoy!!

>>> Part 2

• Giving Mihawk's personality I don't think he is the type that finds his opposite attractive. No this man likes those dark mysterious women-

• Def has a More Gothic wife.

• Mihawk is not one to openly talk about his fine but doesn't hide it either. If someone points out the gold ring hanging by his cross he will say it's his wedding band-

• However when his wife is around, he is quite flirty. A smirk on his lips as he will wrap his hand around your waist, lay kisses on your hand or pepper a kiss to the side of your neck. Uncaring if the world sees

• You also can defend yourself perfectly fine so he doesn't have to worry too much about you getting attacked- Truthfully he would pity someone so foolish to do so. Cause if you didn't kill them he would.

• But what was most known was- Mihawk was so whipped for you. Figuratively and Literally-

• The way you were formally introduced to the whole entirety of the Strawhat pirates was a necessary evil.

• "Zoro we need this- It says a red ruby is needed in order for this and we have non thays big enough!" Nami yelled pointing to the treasure map, Zoro sighed. He had accidently admitted he knew someone with a ruby big enough-

• After enough pestering he agreed and they set sail to Kuraigana Island

• It didn't take long to arrive at the gloomy island, A quick journey to the large castle and the spare key hidden under the mat lead the group inside.

• It looked like a cleaned haunted house- Which frightened the group more till the sound of your voice shook them from their thoughts

• "Is someone here?" You call from the large lounging area. Drawing them all in to the well lit room with a crackling fireplace.

• Sanji covered his nose quickly to stop a nosebleed as he stared at you, So elegantly seated with a cup of tea and a amused look on your face at seeing such a young group or pirates breaking into your home.

• Before Sanji could say a word Zoro slammed his hand over the blondes mouth quickly.

• "Madam Dracule" He said formally and bowed respectfully

• His whole crew stiffening at hearing the formal use of your name.

• DRACULE MIHAWKS WIFE!?

• Sipping your tea you raised a brow at Zoro as he bowed deeply to you. You knew he respected you just as much as Mihawk- the wife of his teacher as well as one of his teachers as well since you did assist in training.

• "Zoro, My dear child what brings you and your friends here?" You ask calmly, setting your tea aside as you felt the shift of the room.. they were nervous.

• "We came here to ask you-" The sound of the door slamming open shook them as they heard heavy footsteps walk to them. Revealing the man of the home, Mihawk. Wet from rain and pulling his hat from his head with a stoic frown

• "Dragă (Darling), What is this?" Mihawk questioned as he returned to his island home to see a familiar pirate ship docked and his Pupil on their knees before his wife. Paired with the group of familiar pirated standing in his livingroom.

• "I am not sure yet love, We were just about to discuss it" You say softly, standing up to gelp him take off his sword and coat. Already feeling his eyes following you as you did this-

• Both of you knowing it was an excuse to touch him.

• "We wished to temporarily barrow your ruby necklace Madame." Zoro said still bowing formally

• Mihawk's eyebrow twitching at hearing this-

• "You wish for my wife to give you her necklace?" He said as his eyes narrowed down at them.

• "J-Just for a little bit Sir!" Nami said, feeling anxiety wash through her system.

• "My Love" You cooed, reaching a hand over and touching the side of his face. Immediately it was like dealing with a feline, Leaning into your touch as he gave you a warning glare.

• "Barrowing a necklace is so minor compared to us at that age. Remember Cohi Island?" You purred, Mihawk giving a subtle growl in the back of his throat. "Ah Cohi Island, How can I forget?" He all but purred out.

• The two of you reminiscing as Mihawk began to place kisses up your arms as you pulled him close and whispered sweet sensual words and memories to him.

• "A little necklace won't be much trouble, Especially since it will be returned~" You whispered in his ear

• The poor strawhats subjected to the very outward affection of the Warlord. It was quite a unpleasant experience for them all-

• Mihawk unclasping the necklace with his teeth before tossing it at Zoro who quickly caught it. The Warlord glaring at his Pupil lazily

• "It will be returned' He said stoically, before returning to his task at hand.

• You wave them off, Smiling softly as Mihawk leaned into your neck to lay kisses and love bites.

• Zoro bowing again quickly as he held the necklace and the youthful pirates quickly filed out of the castle as fast as possible. Zoro still clutching the gemstone

• "Holy fuck! She literally got Hawkeye of all people to give you the necklace!" Usopp said in shock as Zoro nodded. Nami's eyeing that diamond necklace

• "Yes but it must be returned-" He stressed. Not being stupid enough to let anyone steal from his mentor or his wife-

• The group nodded and looked out at the raging storm that beat against them.

• "Well it's raining maybe we can ask for a room-" Usopp started but Zoro quickly shook his head, His face pale and eyes like he was living through War Flashbacks.

• "No- The unholy noises that are about to invade that castle no one will sleep" He said in a deadpan voice- and from the look in his eyes everyone believed him.

• That was a couple too in love

[muzansfangs]

okay but anything fem x ichigo related has me in a chokehold!

Long overdue.

Starring: adult!Ichigo Kurosaki x f!reader; adult!Uryuu Ishida and mention to past Orihime Inoue x Ichigo Kurosaki;

Format: drabble;

Warnings: nsfw, post TYBW (which means Ichigo is 27, read the manga), possible spoilers for TYBW, dom!Ichigo, sub!reader, vaginal sex, coitus interrupted, clothed sex, nipple play;

Plot: Years of tension between Ichigo Kurosaki and you, Uryuu’s twin sister, finally came to an end when you blind drunk confessed your mutual attraction at Orihime’s birthday party. Leaving her house together, you decide to continue the night at your flat, but things do not exactly go as planned.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Huge and calloused, unsurprisingly warm hands fondled your mounds, while his muscular frame trapped you against the wall of your living room. You two had not even made it to the bedroom. Clothes went flying as soon as you had unlocked the front door and urged him inside your small flat through drunken giggles and slurred words.

Ichigo rolled your hardened nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, a groan escaping his lips as he pushed his crotch between your legs. Through soft pants and tousled hair, you reached your hand down past the belt of his jeans and unbuckled it hastily. You would have never rushed things, not when you were finally getting a taste of what you had been chasing after for years now. But you were both tipsy, memories of failed relationships suffocating you. On top of that, the exhaustion of pretending you never had mutual feelings for each other had pushed you to the point of no return. You had not seen Ichigo for four long years due to your work. Leaving Japan had been hard, but it was for the better. You needed time to recover anyway. Now, however, you were back and ready to start anew again.

Your teenage crush for him had come back with a bang upon seeing him sipping on a lemonade all alone at his ex’s flat. Striking up a conversation with him had not been awkward. He was still a tad clumsy, when interacting with girls, but Ichigo knew you. You had studied in the same school, fought together, you had crossed swords during the Quincy invasion, you had even interacted via social media during your absence. Ichigo never forgot you. He had witnessed to your curves blossom into that of a grown up woman and you had watched him become a man. You did not expect him to break up with the ever so sweet and devoted Orihime Inoue. Apparently, they had both realized their feelings never went beyond a strong friendship and deep admiration. Some semblance of love had eventually seeped in their hearts, but it had soon dissipated upon the few months of cohabitation they had indulged into. Their plan to start a family evaporating before their eyes in dull days of talking about how the day had treated them.

They still were pretty close, however, thus Orihime’s decision to invite him too to her birthday party.

Additionally, you thought this was your brother’s chance to finally get closer to the cheerful birthday girl, therefore you had practically forced Uryuu to attend the small dinner with you. After hours spent in catching up with Ichigo, laughters and narrations of your adventures the main topic of your conversation, you had lost the count of how many glasses of wine you had both guzzled. Gregariously, you had danced together until you found yourself grinding against him and Ichigo’s hands surely did not stay put. You jested, teased each others reactions, until you confessed you had always had feelings for him. Your words had slipped your mouth without your consent, but the damage was done.

Unexpectedly, he revealed he felt the same. You two bursted out laughing and somehow you kept it low in the presence of the other hosts, especially Uryuu and Orihime. Around midnight, you both felt like leaving. You were some privacy.

When you leaned closer to Ichigo, lips an inch away from his, glossy eyes pulling the strings of his heart in ways he had never imagined could be real, he lost his inhibitions “Can I accompany you home?” he had asked you, pinkish hues dusting his cheeks as you nodded vigorously at his suggestion. It was happening, then. You were a step away from hitting the jackpot

Besides Orihime and your brother, you had not said your goodbyes to anyone else. Giddily, you awaited for Ichigo to join you down the street, deciding to leave the party in different moments not to draw attention. By the time you had entered your apartment things had escalated quickly.

When the clink of his belt finally undone pierced your ears, you slipped your hands underneath your skirt, hooking your fingers underneath the elastic bands to slide them down your thighs. Ichigo fumbled with his jeans, unzipping them in a hurry before reaching for his wallet and drawing a condom from it.

“Oh, so you didn’t turn into a moron during my absence” you joked, watching in anticipation as he ripped the package open and proceeded to roll the condom over his length. Your eyes were too trained on the show he was giving you to register his next actions. Grasping your right leg, he secured it around his hip and let his fingers slide down your slick, ascertaining if you were wet enough for welcoming him inside.

Your breath hitched, earning a mocking grin from him “Ah, on the other hand, the more you age the closer you get to talk like your brother” he ranted, an indignated gasp from you prompting him to make it up for his words by pressing into your opening.

You hummed, rotating your hips to make him slide further into you. The tip was not enough. Your eyes closed, whilst Ichigo kissed your jawline and pushed further inside you. Your warm body sent shivers down his spine, his fingers digging onto the plush of your arse as his pelvis met yours in the last efforts to bottom out.

Your arms were looped around his shoudlers, grateful he was practically sustaining your weigh in this position. You struggled to keep some composure, biting back your tongue not to moan loudly and boost his ego. Ichigo, though, was relentless. Holding you closer to him, he pulled out before thrusting in again and repeated the action a few times to elicit strained moans from you.

“Can you not be silent when I fuck you?”.

“O-Oi, you shithead, I have neighbours!”.

Ichigo snorted, grunting when you tightened yourself around his shaft to tease him “Oh, come on, don’t be a pain—”.

Talking about a pain in the ass, a phone rang and he automatically halted his onslaught on your body. You sighed, head lolling back against the wall in defeat, but you refused to let him go. The warmth of his body, the stretch you were experiencing were something you were not so willing to give up to easily. Not even if the caller was alerting you a meteor was about to destroy the Country.

“Don’t pick up the phone…” you drawled, pouting, as Ichigo looked at you with a conflicted, troubled expression.

“But—”.

“Pretty please?”.

“What if—”.

“I’ll suck you dry, if you let it—”.

His sense of responsibility prevailed. Shooting an apologetic glance at you, he kissed your forehead and shoved his hand into the pocket of his hoodie, drawing up his phone without even checking who it was. It was your downfall.

“Kurosaki Ichigo” he said dispassionately, voice raspy, as you decided to get to payback by rolling your hips against his ones. Ichigo screwed his eyes closed, hips snapping up as you clasped your hand over your mouth not to squirm and disturb the conversation he had boldly decided to start.

“Kurosaki, finally. It’s me, Uryuu! Did I wake you up?”.

You were still clueless about what had just happened, but you observed the colors draining from Ichigo’s face and you blinked skeptically, eyes searching for his and demanding an explanation.

He cleared his throat “Uhm, yeah, kind of… — he slurred, looking away in sheer panic — What’s the matter?”.

“Actually, my sister forgot her phone. You left shortly after her, I hoped you were together so that you could tell her I’m heading to her flat to bring it to her” Uryuu formally explained and Ichigo choked on his own saliva, accidentally pushing his hips up into yours, the bulbous head of his cock bumping against your cervix.

You winced out in pain, Ichigo immediately pulling out as you bent over in slight pain and shock “What’s your fucking problem?”.

“Y/N? Is that Y/N?” Uryuu asked, voice slightly concerned as he recognized the pained undertoned in your voice.

“No! No, no, you’re mistaken! It’s the tv!” Ichigo fretted, hand running through his orange hair and nervously ruffling them. Oh, well, this definitely made you collect yourself and grasp him by the collar of his hoodie.

“Ichigo, just hang up and fuck me stupid…” you pleaded him, wrapping your arms around his firm torso and causing Uryuu to finally collect the dots from the other side of the phone.

His shouts could be heard even by you and Ichigo was therefore forced to put the speaker on as his friend bristled “What in the actual fuck did I hear? Kurosaki where are you?”.

You gaped, mortified as you paced around the room in clear distress. Telling Uryuu the truth was reasonable at this point, but what would have been the price of that? Your brother’s death, probably.

“Ishida, I can explain! We are—”.

“I don’t want to know any more details about this. Just… For God’s sake, I hope for you, fucking Kurosaki, that you’re using a condom” Uryuu cut him off, before ending up the call hastily.

You stared at Ichigo in silence for a few seconds, his dick now softened as you bit down on your lower lip. You could undrestand the pressure he had felt and the psychological consquences of it all. But now, all in all, in this messy situation, you could finally stop hiding and you could as well finish what you started.

“Uhm, cuddles in my bed until we fall asleep and shameless morning sex?” you suggested, watching hom rolling his eyes at you before pulling you to his chest by your forearm.

“It sounds good”.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Uhm, so… Did I want to start a family drama in my fic? Yes. Did I nail it? Uhm, I don’t know. Anyway, wow, I didn’t expect to come up with another idea for a drabble that soon, especially with an Ichigo request. I sometimes struggle to depict him. Hopefully, you enjoyed it!

Goodnight,

Luce

TAGS: @noirfan12 @dehemetera @jesurum-says-hi @villainsrtasty

[izvmimi]

cw: selfship-coded. sappy. first kiss. isekai elements referenced if you pay attention. aged-up characters to early 20s. reader is part of the corps however not from time period nor country. love triangle.

Tanjiro is exactly where you expect him to be when you find yourself unable to turn in for the night, slipping your feet into tabi slippers, and finding the courtyard where he trains.

You’re no longer at the Ubuyashiki Estate these days but at the Butterfly Mansion, a welcome reprise from the rest of the Hashira with the subset of your comrades you’re most comfortable with - your best friends, in the same predicament as you, slumber in their own respective bedrooms. You can imagine that one has slipped into the room with Genya at some point in the night, and the other is probably asleep, her own gentleman (gentle really only with her and perhaps his pet beetle) caller having sent word that he’d be visiting in the morning. The Butterfly Mansion is truly a beautiful, restful place compared to the bustle of the estate but your heart has been aflutter ever since you came here.

You hate to admit it, but Kanao gets under your skin. 

For a moment, as from afar you watch Tanjiro practice his strike for what may very well be the thousandth time that night, you stand transfixed, wondering if it is worth it to break his concentration to tell him what’s been on your mind. After all, perhaps all this for him it’s something silly and inconsequential, something you’ve only built up in your mind. The draw to him may not be something real even, and even if it were, you are not destined to stay in this land or even this time period.

Whether or not you like him doesn’t matter. Whether or not you love him is moot. You can’t stay. Knowing how he feels about the situation will not serve to clear the muddy waters, plus you have never been one to draw unnecessary love triangles, anyway. 

Before you can let your own misgivings overtake you and turn tail, Tanjiro spots you from afar.

He calls your name loudly, one last strike before his sword is sheathed, and set by the trunk of the nearest cherry blossom tree. He’s fast, and before you know it, he’s by you, grinning widely as he does when he’s excited, despite the exhaustion evident in the very marrow of his bones, communicated by the sheen of sweat overlying tense, overworked muscles. 

“You’re up,” he says, and you try to come up with the best way to organize your thoughts. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, carefully. He’s moving back to where he’s left his sword, but this time he’s taken your hand gently, pulling you along as one does a small child. He has the tendency to do this, reach out to you without considering it first, still unable to understand the effect his touch has on you. He hasn’t picked up on the fact that you let only him and your closest friends touch you casually, and you wonder how he would take it if he realized.

Has he realized yet how special he is to you? 

Your mouth opens then closes as he unsheathes his sword again, and puts himself back in stance, throwing a glance at you to make sure you’re out of striking distance.

“Is it okay if I keep going? I assume you want to talk, but I’m not done. I can still listen, though.”

You nod then look around. Part of you is surprised Kanao isn’t out here, watching him with loving steady eyes, a mind that is as unreadable as her feelings are obvious. You can’t tell if she sees you as a threat or not, or if she sees you at all. But she’s nice. And you are nice. 

That’s all you are to each other and this arrangement is what you wish it could remain. 

Regardless, Aoi’s words have unsettled you.

I know how you feel and I’ve felt that way, but Kanao needs him.

Just thinking about how she practically accosted you, while well-meaning, terribly abrasive, you can feel your teeth clench. 

You haven’t done anything wrong except be yourself. You don’t know how to control the fact that he gravitates towards you. You haven’t tried to seduce him; you understand the roles of girl code, that she was there first, that she loved him first, that she was by his side when he was comatose, when he was fighting, when he was becoming what he is now, and you have no right and yet-

“Talk to me.” 

Tanjiro pauses, and he’s looking at you again, eyes washing over you in the moonlight as though they’re looking for any pain he can assuage. It hurts how he can care about you so deeply, like the most attentive of lovers, when all you’re fated for is a short-lived friendship. You have to remind yourself constantly that he does this for everyone, he loves everyone this tenderly, and thus let your heart stop racing, but there’s not much you can do when all you can think of is the way your lips met just days ago.

It wasn’t a kiss. Kisses are for people who love each other. Kisses are for him and Kanao. He is not for you, nothing is for you, everything is for Kanao.

“Kanao is in love with you,” you blurt out, and immediately regret it.

You can see his body tense, and then he breathes out slowly. You watch him move, and you can feel the night chill suddenly intensify, your arms wrapping around yourself for warmth but for comfort. Your body is trembling. Why did you say that? Everyone knows. It’s not a secret that they’ve been fated for each other for the past several years, long before you tumbled into this world that doesn’t in any way belong to you.

“I know.”

Heat rushes through your body. It’s the worst answer he could have possibly given you, polite and patronizing at once. He’s watching you carefully now, eyes matching your gaze, his hands running through his hair.

“I’m glad you know,” you finally convince yourself to say, trying to prevent your voice from cracking. Heartstrings taut to snapping, you try desperately to come up with a way to change the subject. You don’t care to hear about how easily he returns her feelings or any other part of their love story, whatever you’re not privy to.

“We’re supposed to head out in a couple of days, maybe you shouldn’t tire yourself out like this.” you offer. You turn your head from him, your hand on the tree trunk before you, pretending that the ridges of the bark are of particular interest to you now, although it’s mainly to catch a few errant tears threatening to escape your lash line. “When do you sleep?”

“__.”

He calls your name again, softer this time. Your heart sinks into your stomach. You can’t discuss this anymore.

“The soup Kanzaki-san made today was quite delicious, don’t you think? I have to ask for the recipe.”

There is a pause that is far too loud, and you’re now frozen stiff, holding back tears. You know he will not let you move on, but the idea of rejection in the middle of the night is just too much for you to bear.

Lovesick. Truly lovesick you are at this venture in time, and the fantasy has to last just a little bit longer. It’s all you have going for you in this awful situation, the dream that even if you’re trapped here slaying monsters for an indeterminate length of time, away from family and the technology you took for granted, perhaps he can smile and warm you like the sun. 

“I think Inosuke may have said my name right today, Tanjiro, isn’t that so funny?!”

You laugh, but it’s coming out disingenuous, a sound not unlike a barking sick cough.

“___,” he says again, his voice even softer now, pleading with you to manage your own font of emotions. 

It’s too much. 

You turn quickly and whisper something about being tired and needing to leave, and the moment you walk past him, he grips your wrist again, stopping you in your tracks.

Your heart thumps.

“I don’t love her.”

Your head shakes automatically even if it’s what you wanted so desperately to hear. “I think you should,” you say in the smallest of whispers.

Your hand pulls but Tanjiro doesn’t let go, instead stepping around to face you. Your head is turned downwards but gently, he takes your chin and raises it up to his face. You look away, but you’re biting your lip and the tears are starting to well up again. Your heart is racing out of control.

This isn’t what you want, but it is. You must still be dreaming, never having left the security of your bed. 

“Why are you crying?” 

Concern dripping in his voice, he’s thumbing away tears that you’re too embarrassed to explain.

“I…” you trail off. There’s no excuse, really.

“What do you want me to tell you, __?” Tanjiro asks. It’s a harsh question but it’s said with firm kindness; the gentle glow in his crimson eyes are patient still.

That you love me as much as I do you, you think, then dispel. Preposterous.

“I’m not sure,” you lie. He frowns, the immediately detected deceit disappointing him. He lets go of your chin, then takes both of your hands in his. Your stomach turns as he raises them to his lips.

“Kanao is important to me-” he starts. You wince and pull away, but he holds on tighter, “but you too are important. Very much so.”

“She loves you-” you start, and he quickly rebuts, “I love you.”

And this stuns you to silence.

“You…”

“Yes, you.”

A sharp inhale as your body recovers from sobs racks your body. Tanjiro pulls your knuckles to his lips and kisses, and you find your breathing erratic again.

“Tanjiro,” you start, and he pulls your face closer.

“I’ve loved you for a really long time,” he says, and the adoration in his eyes makes it so clearly true, sparkling in the moonlight. Your mind’s eye spins memories like films, every time he’s been too close, every time he’s been too careful, every time he’s wanted to be with you above everyone else.

“Are you sure?” you ask. It’s the lamest of things that you can ask but you have to hear it from him, the man who loves everything and everyone, that would choose anything before himself. 

“As sure as my blade.”

Your lips meet in a kiss that dizzies you before you can find his last statement cheesy. When the haze clears, you think of Aoi again, you see Kanao in your mind’s eye watching Tanjiro, butterflies in her hair.

“What about Kanao? She needs you.”

“I need you.”

He kisses you again, and this time you’ve lost all your reservations, perhaps too easily, your arms reaching around his neck to deepen the kiss.  You’ve never needed to tell him you loved him because it was written all over your face. It’s a part you’ve hated about yourself, that no matter how badly you’ve tried to limit your emotions, all comes spilling out through your words and actions. He might have known before you even did, your penchant for devotion spilling into every word you spoke to him, smiles you couldn’t quite temper.

Your friends saw it, Aoi saw it, Kanao saw it, the heavens above must have seen it.

Most importantly, he saw it. 

The tears remain free-flowing, now cathartic. You breathe in his love as he continues to kiss you, your lips, your neck craned, your back now supported by the tree that knows your poorly-kept secret.

“Tanjiro, I love you,” you admit finally, your noses just inches apart, breathless.

“I know,” he whispers. He smiles and kisses your neck. “And I’m so glad.”

[chatterbox-73]

Simptember 2024.

Day 20 - To you.

Shoto Todoroki x fem!Reader

This story is a smut story for simptember, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for simptember and if you want to see a character please let me know...

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

Part one - Tamaki Amajiki: Comparison

Summary: following the night with Tamaki, you can’t find yourself believing shoto’s antics, however he is proven right and you don’t have any other choice but to run back to him.

Word count: 7k

CW: NSFW and adult content, oral (f!receiving and giving), non-exclusive relationship, step-siblings, cheating (slightly), fingering, making out, counch and floor sex, mention of anal, anal play, breast and nipple play, mention of abuse, hitting/mention of hitting, Daddy kink, spanking, unprotected sex, slight overstimulation, cream-pie.

You sat on the floor, you stood to your feet and walked to shoto’s door opening it, “I honestly didn’t expect you to come here, I’m only playing around little sis… but I’ll let suck me if that’s what you really want” he chuckled and you shook your head, “no, I’m only telling you, that I don’t believe you” you said and looked down your nose at him. Shoto sighed and walked over to you, he held a softened expression you’d never seen before in all the time you knew him, he spoke your name so warmly you felt you heart skip a beat, “I’m looking out for you, I know I’m not the most ethical with my approach, but know that you can always count on me” he hummed as he held you cheek and leant in, “why because you’re my big brother, seriously what a load of crap” you chuckled cynically and shoto smiled, “no you can count on me because you’re not my sister, darling” Shoto whispered as he pressed his nose to yours, his lips barely ghosting over yours. Shoto was so close and in your space you could taste the spearmint toothpaste on his breath, “what are you doing?” You whispered and he placed one on his hand on the wall beside your head and the other wrapped around your body, “you really care about him?” His asked and you nodded, not knowing if you should be honest with him or lie to save yourself. Shoto sighed and nodded, “alright if that’s the truth, I’m rooting for you” he smiled and his hand beside your head balled into a fist, this caused your eyes to look away for him and to his hand, “I’m sorry… you deserve better than everything that’s happened… if I could go back I’d ring my younger self’s neck” he laughed softly and you looked back at him in shock, but before you had the chance to fully acknowledge what he said, shoto pressed into your lips and took them fully for himself.

The kiss was soft and all-consuming, Shoto pressed everything into this kiss but took everything from it, your hands moving up to his chest and you grabbed roughly at his shirt, but you couldn’t figure out weather you wanted to push him away or pulled him in close, however just as he began to press his tongue into your mouth his phone rang and he pulled back. Shoto slammed his close fist into the wall and you jump slightly, “damnit… sorry but you should go” he stepped back and you nodded, quickly leaving his room and entering your own, you close your door and leaned back against it.

You listened carefully as you heard him step out of his room, “yeah I’m still coming… I was helping my sister with the laundry, thats why I didn’t answer” he spoke as he walked down the hall towards the front door, “yeah yeah, look if you care so much then get back with him… but I won’t want you after that, I don’t sword fight with other dudes…” he said so coolly and you heard the door open, “…especially with dudes that’ve been in my sister” his voice slightly shifted to a darker nonchalance tone that almost seemed unnoticeable, you cracked your door open and looked out seeing Shoto pull on his shoes, he was already looking at you and because of this you were unable to close your door and act like you weren’t ears-dropping, “look I’ll keep fucking you so long as you don’t keep whatever little ‘on again, off again’ game you two have going” he looked you directly in the eyes, “or are you worried she’s a better fuck then you are…?” Shoto chuckled and you felt your face go red, you stepped out of your room and shoto stood up straight, now just standing in the doorway looking at you, “…oh come on, you honestly think he’s telling the whole truth…?” He sighed and shook his head, he held up a hand and made a gesture like it was talking, “…let’s be real, he probably loved having his face between her tits, and I’m sure he put that mouth to use” he chuckled and raised a brow to you, you nodded and you crossed your arms over your chest, “I’m almost certain of it… probably right after he finished fucking her” he laughed at both yours and the woman of the phone’s reactions, “oh don’t be upset with me… how about I make it up to you” he smirked and rolled his eyes, before nodding and waving to you, Shoto left and you were left feeling ashamed and incredibly embarrassed, the small pit in your stomach had filled with warmth during this interaction.

It had been just over a month since you first went out with Tamaki and in this time you’d met up constantly to sleep together, however that’s really all you two did, you didn’t mind but by this point you figured he’d start to bring up the idea of dating.

You sat in your elective group, discussing an upcoming project, “I think maybe you should go out and study together” Uraraka suggested and you nodded, “that’d be great I can book a study room for us in the library and bring some food for the group” you smiled excitedly, despite the rough beginning you had with your group and the relationship between you and Shoto, during this month everything became better and now you genuinely liked being around everyone, including Shoto himself. “Yeah definitely, though you book the room and I’ll get us the food, the youngest shouldn’t pay for us” Shoto explained and you smiled, “when should I book the room for?” You asked and pulling out your laptop, you opened the browser and logged into your library account, before opening booking tutors and study spaces, “today’s best I think… I’m busy tomorrow, Uraraka has work on the weekends and lectures all day Monday, Shoto is busy Tuesday and Wednesday with his other siblings, Tamaki-senpai has his internship with the company he’s working with all next week and you have classes all week and committee duties” Midoriya explained and you nodded, looking through the availability there was a decent sized room available from 2pm till the time the library closed, you clicked it and began filling out the application form, “I’m actually busy after this and for the rest of the day” Tamaki explained and everyone looked to him for more information, “my housemates want to get some cleaning and other things done before we do our week long internship” he looked off to the side and you placed a hand over his thigh, “that’s alright, I’ll seen the notes of our study sessions to the group chat that way we can all come back to it if we forget” you smiled and looked around the table before you looked but down at your laptop and finished booking the room.

You and Uraraka sat at the large study table waiting for the boys to return, you looked over at her and noticed she was already starring at you, “oh sorry” you quickly looked down at your book and began to scribble something down, “that’s okay, I did want to ask you something” she hummed and rested an elbow on the table before resting her hand on top her palm, you looked to her and nodded, “you and Tamaki-senpai are together right?” She asked and you thought for a moment, “yeah kind of, we haven’t spoken about it, but I hope we can” you smiled and she nodded, “so that’s why Todoroki-kun is still sleeping with that plain-faced girl?” Uraraka hummed and you gave a confused look, “oh of course you wouldn’t know, he has been constantly doing it with her and only her… I’m impressed…” she chuckled and continued on “…at first I thought our player was starting to settle down, but Deku-kun figured it out when he told us not to pick on you anymore” she grinned and you chose to ignore the fact that they were actively picking on you because shoto said so, “what did Midoriya-kun figured out?” You asked and Uraraka leant in, she smiled and brushed a hand over your cheek, “that Shoto wants to be with you, that he has it bad for you… we figured it’s probably been from the beginning, and now he’s keeping a girl in place for you can fuck her boyfriend whenever you like” her laugh and you felt your face go red.

Were you embarrassed because she and Midoriya know you and Tamaki are sleeping together, or that it was so obvious that Shoto liked you and you never saw it.

You placed your head in your hands and groaned, “Is she really that bad, that can be true?” You turned your head to look at Uraraka while still keeping it in your hands, “nah me and Deku-kun think she’s pretty, but for Todoroki-kun, she’s too plain and clearly his madly in love with someone else” she chuckles and you sighed, “what do I do?” You carded your finger through your hair, “you could finally lock things down with Tamaki-senpai…” she hummed and that was definitely an option, but you weren’t certain he wouldn’t reject the offer because he’s not ready, “…or you could find someone else…” she shrugged and shifted towards you with a grin, “or maybe even give Todoroki-kun a chance, I heard his tongue is god-sent and his dick is massive” she laughed at your reaction. You sat up and shook your head, “he’s my brother… that’s not happening” you spoke weakly, you were still haunted by the kiss shared with Shoto and how satisfying it was, how you were so close to giving into him, “he’s not really your brother, his father married your mother, and you don’t see each other as siblings, so that’s a weak excuse to pull” Uraraka chuckles and before you could respond she spoke again, “there’s no shame in having both of them, especially if Tamaki-senpai isn’t willing to settle… I did the same thing with Deku-kun and another friend, Deku-kun didn’t want to settle so during the time before he make his decision I had my cake and ate it too…” she smirked and you shook your head.

You couldn’t possibly do such a thing, sure the thought was nice, getting intimacy from one and devotion from the other, you had heard the rumours about Shoto and his conquests, you had heard of his experience and willingness, yeah, the thought was appealing but you couldn’t do that to him, no matter how horrible he once treated you, or how desperate you could get, it was wrong and you were better then that.

Uraraka laughed and patted your back, “it’s clear you’re a better woman than I am…” she mused, “in what way would that be?” You heard a voice from the door and there Midoriya and Shoto came in with takeout bags, “oh you know… I wouldn’t be writing all our notes out for us” she hummed and they chuckled, before setting up the food and before long the group began studying.

You leaned back and raised your arms over your head, stretching, “man I’m getting tired” you yawned and Uraraka nodded, “we’ve been doing this for a while, let’s get coffees” she stood and grabbed your hand before pulling you to stand up, “yeah that sounds like a great idea…” you hummed and when pulled out of the room by the arm, with both Midoriya and Shoto following behind the both of you, “should we go to the coffee shop on campus?” Midoriya catching up to the both of you, “nah there’s a coffee shop about 10 minutes away let’s go there” you smiled and Uraraka nodded, “wait, that’s pretty far… how about I drive us” Shoto called out and everyone stopped before looking back at him, you seemed worried for a moment but before being able to make a decision Uraraka already began pulling you towards the car park out front of the library, “let’s sit together okay…” she laughed and dragged you over to Shoto’s car, “maybe we should take our car as well, just in case” you heard Midoriya call out and Uraraka sighed before nodding, “yeah my car isn’t going to fit everyone comfortably” Shoto call as he walked up to the driver’s side of the car, you watched and giggled as Uraraka rolled her eyes but reluctantly agreed, she walked back towards her boyfriend before they walked off to their car.

“It’s probably best you send them the address…” Shoto said and he buckled himself in and looked at you expectantly, nodding you pulled out your phone and messaged Uraraka, “I’m glad they’re getting along with you, Uraraka-chat has taken a real liking to you” Shoto smiled and started the car, you shrugged and looked at him, you watched as he focused on the road, pulling out of the parking lot, his eyes glowed in the street lights and they illuminated his pretty features, his Adam’s apples bobbed every so often, “it’s a good thing we’re driving it was actually 15 minutes away” he chuckled and kept his gaze on the road, you hummed and nodded, “Shoto-kun are you happy with her?” You asked suddenly “or are you with her, so that she doesn’t try anything with Tamaki-senpai?” You looked down at your lap and Shoto reached a hand over to rest on your knee, “honestly, she’s not my type of woman, she’s kind of boring and her face is plain” he answered and it made a lump of guilt form in your chest, “but I don’t think she likes my company much anyway, she’s always complaining about me and saying I’m only good for sex” he sighed and you looked up at him, “that’s not true, despite everything you did take good care of me when we were growing up” you smiled and Shoto laughed, “that’s because Enji would have hit me if I didn’t” he smiled and glanced towards you, “oh I’m really sorry… I didn’t know” your smile faded and he laughed, “don’t be, it’s not like your mum wasn’t a total bitch to you… and besides Enji’s always been a girl dad, he really only like Toya-Nii and Fuyumi-Nee, but she didn’t want to get into the family business and Toya-Nii was too old to get along with you” he explained and you were shocked, you’d never really expressed any interest in their family dynamic. “Wow, but Toya-Kun is so kind…” you replied and Shoto nodded, “he is but only sometimes, he be kinda misogynistic at times and he’s never really gotten along with me” he pulled the car over and looked at you fully, “I guess Enji didn’t want to expose you to that… though I suppose you weren’t any better off with me, you probably would’ve been happier if he had paid a little bit more attention to Natsu-Nii” he explained and you hummed, “maybe you’re right but there’s no point going back over the past and wishing to change things” you smiled and Shoto squeezed your knee, you jumped slightly forgetting his hand was resting there, “can I asked, why you’re still with her? Is it because of me and Tamaki-senpai? You never answered” you whispered and looked down in shame, Shoto’s hand moved up to leg slightly and squeezed your lower thigh, “to be honest, yeah… I’m trying to make for what I’ve done” he sighed and leant into you slightly, his face only centimetres away from yours, “why?… why the sudden change?” You asked and he hummed closing his eyes, “because I’m happier, when you’re happy… and so I’d rather spend my days with a boring woman then bring you anymore misery” he said and moved in closer that feeling of warmth in your stomach reignited and you could feel yourself moving into him, you reached up and grabbed his bicep, “Shoto-kun… what are you doing?” You whispered as his lips moved against yours, he hummed and undid his seatbelt before wrapping one of his arms around your waist while the other rubbed over your inner thigh, “Shoto-kun, I- but if…” you moaned feeling his hand cup your clothed crotch, he’s middle finger pressed into you and you tangle your free hand up into his hair, moaning into his mouth, “I’m desperate for you… I think of you every time I’m in one of those whores” he groaned against your lips and moved his hand upwards towards the waistband of your pants, his fingers began slipping into your waistband but before he could take things any further he stopped and pulled back.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that” he sat back in his seat and fixed his hair, “I… I’m sorry as well, I shouldn’t lose myself like that” you sighed and readjusted your pants, Shoto nodded and looked at you, he lifted his hands to cups your face and suddenly the words you just spoke felt as if they meant nothing, he brushed his thumb over your lips and wiped away any smeared lipstick, “if it doesn’t work out with him, promise you’ll give me a chance… even if it’s just fucking out these feelings that are very clearly here” Shoto leant in one last time and pressed his tongue into your mouth as he captured your mouth, you moaned tangled your hands back into his hair, you both pulled back and he pressed his face into your neck, “I don’t… what if things do work out between us, I can’t do this again… especially if he asked me to be his girlfriend” you panicked and grabbed his shoulders, “promise me only if it doesn’t work out… promise you’ll let me be there for you…” he huffed in your scent and you stiffened feeling his arms wrapped around you, “if he breaks your heart let me take your pain away… let hold you close, invade your space, taste you and fill you until you can’t take anymore” he groaned and kissed your skin, you moaned loudly and pressed your thighs together, “okay… okay, Shoto-kun, you can… only if it doesn’t work out with him” you push on his shoulders and he moves back, he relaxed back into his seat and sighed, you looked up at his face and then down at the front of his jeans, where a large and very noticeable bulge had formed. You felt a shiver down your spine and Shoto chuckled at your very visible reaction, “don’t worry sweetheart, it’s not as bad as others make it out to be, it only looks like this because of my boxer-briefs” he laughed and before you could make a response Shoto’s phone began to ring, he clicked the dashboard screen to answer the call, “Uraraka-Kun we’re coming in know, don’t worry” he laughed but she didn’t mirror his joy, “no it’s not that, you should come in and see this for yourself though… they haven’t seen us” she sounded serious and Shoto signalled for you to get out of the car before he followed behind you, you both walked into the café and looked around you found Uraraka and Midoriya immediately and walked over to them before they quickly pointed out what riled them up so much, and there it was, or rather who it was Tamaki and his girlfriend, sure you weren’t in a position to talk considering you were just in the car kissing another guy, but this felt wrong, Tamaki was cozying with his ex-girlfriend he hadn’t told you about at all, a ex he broke up with the day he started sleeping with. You looked down at your phone and you unlocked it, before calling Tamaki, you watched him look at his phone and quickly stand and answer it, “hi… hi how is studying?” He asked with a slight waver in his voice, “it’s good we’re going to finish early because Shoto-Kun what’s to go out with the girl he’s seeing…” you lied and watched as Tamaki looked towards his ex, “so I was wondering if you wanted to come over, and we can… well you know” you spoke so calmly it honestly surprised you, he hummed and nodded, “yeah, I’ll come over… maybe in an hour and a half?” He asked and you responded with a hum, “hey before you go… do you see us going anywhere?” You asked and he hesitated for a moment, “umm yeah, eventually… maybe in a couple of months” he spoke and you hummed, “I see… and you’re not trying to get back with your ex-girlfriend…” you asked and you heard Tamaki’s voice catch for a moment, “no… no I don’t have a girlfriend… that’s strange” he said and you saw him stiffen, “oh okay, well I was gonna ask if you could bring me a coffee when your done with your ex… but consider she’s not your ex, you must not be in a coffee shop” you spoke and you watched as Tamaki began to turn and look around for you, once he spotted you, he hung up his phone and grabbed his coat before running over to you.

You walked out of the cafe with Tamaki following you “it’s not what you think… we just ran into each other, we haven’t spoken since we broke up” he said in a huff and you turned suddenly, “don’t lie, you’ve been in contact with her the entire time we’ve been sleeping together, and you’ve been trying to get back together with her” you rolled your eyes and he closed his mouth, “you’ve even been telling her about the sex we have…” you felt a little foolish, it was so obvious but you didn’t care, “you talk to her like I’m some chore, but come to me and spend hours in bed with me, begging me to stay with you” you throw your hands up and suddenly Uraraka was being pulled out of the coffee shop by Midoriya, she was yelling something about a home wrecking slut, following them was Tamaki’s ex holding her cheek and Shoto with a red handprint across his face. It seemed everything was falling into chaos so quickly, “did you slap her?” Tamaki asked Shoto in shock and anger, “no she hit him, so I got the skank” Uraraka yelled “and I’d do it again” she tried to break from Midoriya’s hold, before Shoto told him to take her back to the library and collect everyone’s belongings, he nodded and dragged his flailing girlfriend away, you looked back at Tamaki “we shouldn’t keep doing this, let’s not see each other anymore” you said and he nodded slightly, “I’m sorry, I did enjoy your attention and you’re quite a beautiful woman… thank you for being understanding” he frowned and looked to Shoto, “are you done with Mia?” He asked and Shoto looked at him confused, “who?” He asked and Tamaki’s girlfriend, who you guessed was Mia, scoffed, “she’s Mia, the girl you’ve been fucking for months…” Tamaki gestured to his ex and Shoto hummed, “oh right… yeah I have no use for her anymore… though I honestly don’t think you two should get back together, that’s pretty toxic and you both deserve better…” Shoto sighed and looked to Mia, “you allowed some guy who didn’t even know your name to fuck you, while keeping your ex close by even to he was with another woman and you’d actively try to degrade her to both of us…”he placed a hand on your shoulder, “…like one of us wasn’t in between her legs every other day for hours and you other being her brother and hearing a lot of activity shared between the two when they didn’t realise I was home” he sighed before laughing at both yours and Tamaki’s reaction, he then looked to Tamaki and frowned, “and you… you had a beautiful thing with her, only for you to ruin it because of an Ex’s insecurities and because you couldn’t was a few months to move on…” he grumbled and moved closer to Tamaki, “you tried to convince your ex here that my little sister was useless in bed, but in the same day your beg her to sleep with her” he rolled his eyes and Tamaki nodded, “you’re right, I wasn’t good to either of them” he hummed and you nodded before saying your goodbyes and leaving Shoto to deal with the rest.

You sat in his car playing with your nails as you watched him talk with Mia or rather, watch Mia yell at both him and Tamaki for making a fool of her, before long though everyone went their separate ways and Shoto finally entered his car, “jeez, she knows how to chew someone’s ear off, she almost as scary as you or Uraraka-chan” Shoto chuckled and you giggled, “you didn’t know about that did you?” You asked and Shoto shook his head, “I was just as surprised as you, I knew she was still talking to him but not to that extent” he sighed and you nodded believing him, the rest of the car ride was quite and as you both entered in your apartment your parents were there.

“So how was studying?” Your mother asked and you both nodded, Enji was sitting at the dining room table as your mother stood in the kitchen overlooking the dining room, “Is something the matter?” Shoto asked and you both took seats at the table, “not really, we’ve noticed you’re both getting a long and we wanted to discuss leaving agreements…” Enji smiled and your mother frowned, “the whole reason you both had to leave together was because you couldn’t get along, but now that you are, we wanted to know if you wanted to move into a different apartment” Enji looked to you and you were shocked, if you had gotten this offer a month ago then you’d definitely take it without hesitation, but now you had started to see Shoto in a different light and how much he actually helped you, “well it’s a tempting offer but Shoto-Nii helps me a lot around the house, so I’d like to stay if he’s okey with that” you said and Enji nodded before looking to his son, “do you still want to live with her?” He asked and Shoto nodded, “yeah, I’m hopeless at cooking and it’s nice always having company” he asked and you smiled, Enji nodded and finished off the conversation before moving on to ask Shoto about school and grades, you took this opportunity to retreat the bathroom.

You sat in the warm water of the bath and relaxed, about ten minutes into your bath Shoto had called through the door that your parents had left, actually allowing you the chance to properly relax. In the warm water you had the chance to reflect on the day, you had called things off with Tamaki, you had given up the chance to have your own place, you had been told to be a little selfish sometimes by Uraraka, you made out with Shoto in his car and promised to sleep with him if things didn’t work out with Tamaki. You quickly sat up when you remembered that last thing, you wondered when he’d make his move, tonight… tomorrow… next week… maybe never, the last one kind of disappointed you, when you thought about it even as young children you both had the potential to get along really well, and now as adults even when you were at each other’s throats you could suffocate on the tension between the two of you, but now knowing he wants you and you feel something for him. You stood up out of the water and began to dry yourself, your wrapped yourself in your towel and walked to the door, you opened it and pointed your head out, you looked the hallway towards the living room and could see Shoto leaning back on the couch, you stepped out of the bathroom and walked down to the living room, you walked up behind the couch Shoto was on and removed your towel before draping it over his head, and as he reached up for the towel you placed your hands over his eyes, “don’t look in naked…” you whispered in his ear before, “…I was coming to tell you I’m a woman of my word, I’ll be in my room on my bed waiting for you, just like I am now” you hummed and Shoto stiffened and before you could pulled away, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you over the back of the couch and onto his lap, he then reached up and pulled the towel off his face, he throw it away and quickly took in the view of your naked body resting on his lap, his hand ran up your stomach before he grabbed one of your breasts and squeezed it, he jiggled the flesh and pinched your nipple, “god damn, your tits are soft… you were right to cover my eyes because now we’re not going to make it to the bedroom” he groaned has he moved you to straddle his lap, before he lifted you up as he stood and moved the kneel on the floor, he laid you back in the living room floor.

You moaned has Shoto licked and sucked on your clit all while he thrust three thick fingers in you, crying and grabbing him as you felt yet another orgasm hit, your body shook and the wet squelching noise coming from already over used cunt got louder and more intense as more of a mess was made on Shoto fingers and face, your nails dung into his scalp, “fuck Shoto… I can’t anymore, I wanna feel your cock” you cried and Shoto laughed against your cunt, he lifted his head slightly and spoke against your swollen clit, “no baby, I’m not going to, not until I’m full on your juices… you honestly think a man can fuck on an empty stomach” he groaned falling back into his rhythmic pattern of licking and sucking your clit while his fingers worked you to another high. You moved your hands down to his soft locks of hair to try and push his head away, however he caught both your wrists and held them together in one hand as he continued, you jerked your hips up every so often to try and relieve some of the tension in your hips, your whole body was experiencing a constant tingle, you cried, genuinely cried at the feeling, you scrambled out incoherent nonsense, it all felt so good and he had only just begun, Shoto still had an entire night planned for the both of you, and you weren’t even going to make it past the first part.

Shoto groaned, it was a deep shaky groan that made you shutter, “shit…” he hissed against your skin before pulling back, you sighed finally getting to relax from the contents tension of the orgasms he had been giving you, “what’s wrong?” You asked leaning up on shaky arms, Shoto chuckled and sat back on his legs, pulling his shirt up and off his body, you took in the sight of his bare chest before looking down at the bulge in his pants and the wet patch that had formed at what you presumed was the tip of his cock, “did you just finish? From only eating me?” You hummed and pressed your legs together as you felt a throb in your aching cunt, “yeah, I came in my pants…” he hummed and moved closer to you, he lifted your leg and opened them wide, then began grinding his clothed erection into you, “…but I’m far from finished” he laughed and captured your lips, you wrapped your legs and arms around him, pulling him in and he let out a breathless sigh, “you’re fucking perfect…” he moaned against your neck as he began kissing down your body. Shoto’s face rested comfortably between your breasts as he moulded and squeezed your fleshy mounds, you moaned and bucked your hips up into him trying to create more friction, you moaned something about if your breasts were that good that everyone wanted to get in between them, Shoto laughed and bite the side of your mound, “better then you could imagine sweetheart” he hummed and sat back, you smiled and cupped his face with one hand before dragging your hand down his neck and chest, before tracing your index finger down the centre of his abs, his muscles tensed and flexed under your touch, your fingers ran down further past his belly button and over his two toned happy trail before you hocked two fingers into the waistband of his jeans.

“Take them off please” you moaned as you sat up and began moving to undo his pants yourself, you opened the front of Shoto’s pants and leant down as you pulled his messy cock from its confines in his pants, you lifted your hips and shook your ass as you began licking the cum from his tip, you whined at the flavour and quickly took his tip into your mouth, you slowly began bobbing your head sucking him while using one of your free hands to pump what could fit in your mouth and your other hand cupped and fondly his heavy sack, “oh fuck… shake that ass for me” he groaned and rested a hand on your head while the other ran down your back before smacking your ass cheek, you moaned and shook you hips, causing the flesh to jiggle, Shoto chuckled and grabbed roughly onto your both cheeks and spread them, “fuck you’re dripping all over the place… what a horny little bitch” he smacked both your cheeks and squeezed them, spread them wider before leaning over you so that his stomach was pressed against the back of your head, Shoto leant down and spat a large glob of saliva on your ass and watched as it ran over you puckered hole before moving down to your already soaked cunt, you gagged and Shoto quickly pulled back, you sat up and turned around giving your ass another shake, before you leant down, you pressed your chest to the ground and raised your hips, you reached back and spread your ass for him, “I think I’m more then ready” you moaned and Shoto laughed, he grabbed your hips and pulled you back, grinding his cock against you ass, “god damnit, you are so fucking ready… but I promised you, you’d face me while I came in that little pussy, so turn of sweetie” he groaned in your ear and you whimpered, you turned over the laid back.

Shoto grabbed your hips and lifted them before pumping his cock a few times, “we can’t undo what’s about to happen… so you sure?” He groaned rubbing his tip through your folds, “god yes! Just fuck me already” you cried, you couldn’t take any more of his relentless teasing and you were certain he knew it, and if he wasn’t just as desperate as you he’d keep this little game going but instead he took you in one quick motion, you threw your head back into the ground and cried loudly, he was long and thick, even with all the preparation he did on you, it felt as if it was all-for-naught.

You grabbed Shoto’s shoulder and pressed your head back onto the ground, “holy shit, you’re so good… hold onto daddy” Shoto grunted and your moaned out a ‘yes’, your grip tightened and you felt him hock his arms under your leg before he pulled you up, Shoto’s arms resting under your legs and held your ass and you intertwined your fingers together behind his neck. Shoto pulled you body up and down to meet his thrusts, you cried out loudly “you’re so deep, I feel you in my stomach” you sobbed coming close to releasing, you threw your head back and came around him, you cunt squeezing him so tightly it forced him out of you, Shoto groaned and readjusted his hold on you before grabbing his shaft and forcing it back inside you, “you gotta keep me nice and snug inside you, sweet girl” he hummed as he bottomed out, you body felt heavy and weighed all at the same time, you cried for him to finish inside him, begged to feel his hot load, “please… please daddy” you whined nails digging into his neck, Shoto cursed out and dropped you softly into the couch before grabbing the backs of your knees and pressing them up to your shoulders, folded you in half, “you’re so cute, you just don’t understand how long I’ve wanted you… it killed me when you were with that fucking loser” he grunted and his hips snapped into you quickly as he spoke, “say you’re mine… tell me I’m the only one” he demanded and you struggled to speak, but that wasn’t good enough for Shoto, “fucking stay it!” He yelled and wrapped a hand around your throat, “I’m… I’m yours…” you crocked between sobbed, “you’re the only one…” your voice shook and Shoto grunted, his hips faulted but he kept thrusting mercilessly, “did you just cum?” You asked and ran your fingers up into his hair, “almost… but no, trust me you’ll know when daddy comes” he hummed in your ear and your body shivered.

“Fuck that sounds so precious” Shoto moaned and leaned back holding your hips, he looked down his nose at you, he watched as his cock disappeared inside you, he watched your walls cling desperately to him, he watched the while foamy ring form around the base of his cock, he watched the wet patch under your ass grow bigger and bigger with every thrust, he watched your fucked out face and your breasts bounce, “you’re so fucking pretty” he hummed and rolled his hip up into you, before fully sheathing himself inside you, he threw his head back and gripped your hips so tightly a bruise began to form, your body shook and you cried loudly as you finally felt it, Shoto’s hot full load pumping generously into you, he watched as it spilled out of you and around the base of his cock, “Christ… this is the most I’ve ever came” he laughed and you moaned, “and I could still keep going… if you’ll let me baby” he smiled and you shook your head, “no… I need to rest, give me ten minutes” you whined and pulled yourself up and cuddled into his arms, he laughed and hugged you tightly, kissing the crown of your head, “alright sweet girl, ten minutes… then I’m taking this cunt from behind, so I can watch that sexy little ass jiggle” Shoto pressed kisses to your neck and you giggled, “you horn dog…” you teased and slapped his chest, “I need to pee and a drink of water” you tried to pulled away, but Shoto held you close and lifted you, walking you to the bathroom, he placed you down on the toilet and left you to do your business while he got you a bottle of water.

While in the bathroom you cleaned yourself of all the mess left inside you, before you stood on shaky legs and washed your hands, “it seems your trying to tempt me with a good time” Shoto hummed as he walked into the bathroom with as bottle of water, he walked up behind you and placed your water bottle on the bathroom counter, before he grabbed your ass with both hands and spread you open to him, “oh… you cleaned up, I was looked forward to fucking that load back into you with another fat one following it” he laughed and you blushed, “you’re being too dirty…” you huffed and looked at Shoto through the mirror, he pulled a fake pout and hugged you from behind, you chuckled and ground back into him, “I think I’m ready for another round…” you hummed before turning your head to lick the shell of his ear, “…daddy” you whispered and felt Shoto shove your chest down into the sink before he leant down and pressed his tongue against your cunt, you gasped and pressed a hand against his forehead, “no no no… not like that…” you gasped and wiggled your hips but Shoto was relentless and he massaged your entrance with his strong and rough tongue before trailing up and your puckered ring, “oh… not there, it’s too sensitive” you moaned and ground back into his tongue, you liked this but definitely didn’t want to seem like some kinky whore, which was crazy considering how things had played out thus far, though little did you know that Shoto was too focused on your taste to even care what you said or did, you could honestly call anything man’s name and he’d be too preoccupied with your cunt and ass, “you want me to take the front or back?…” he asked as he pulled back and looked at you though the mirror, you felt your face go redder, you’d never had someone asked so bluntly, “you won’t fit in the back and I’m too impatient to wait” you hummed and Shoto barked out a laugh, “I’d make myself fit, but you’re right, I’m too impatient as well… next time I’ll take this ass” he chuckled and slapped your ass, grabbing and moulding the flesh, you moaned and Shoto lined up with your cunt, he moved his hip forward and took you again.

Throughout the night you’d done it more time then you could count and the next morning you’d decide to ride Shoto as soon as he woke, in the coming days your relationship with each other improved astronomically.

Simptember Masterlist

Day 19 - Katsuki Bakugou: Outside delight.

[billskeis]

o em gee I love you AND your writings sm, can I ask for a smut maybe like 2009 tom and js like let’s say he woke up from a nap and he like gets a boner and when he asks the reader to help him , they say yes n’ hes js spitting out sweet swords and stuff ty and make sure u get some rest! 🤍🙏

luv u 2 lets makeout :3c

ᡣ𐭩 tom’s post nap boner

tom woke up with an uncomfortable feeling, almost breathing heavy as he blinked away the sleep in his body. looking around, he noticed you were no longer laying in bed with him. as concerned as he was, there was an even bigger problem at hand. that concerning the morning, or, afternoon wood that he had woken up with.

“hi tom!” he turns his head to met the voice that called out to him. you were already awake, feeling a little bit craving, you left your bedroom not too long ago to go grab a snack and a glass of water. sitting down at the edge of the bed, you gulped down the last bit of water as your attention quickly averts to the show the both of you fell asleep to.

with a groan, tom who was once sitting up in confusion and discomfort, leans his whole body back down on the bed. he feels a little bad having to ask such a thing for you considering that the two of you had just done it, thus the much needed nap. but he can’t help it! he’s a growing boy with growing needs (still?)

“baby..” you hummed in response hearing him call you, body leaned toward his but head still directed to the television. whining, tom palms himself through his sweats, unable to wait any longer. however, you’re not getting the message he’s trying to send. “look at me, please?” he asks ever so politely which has you actually turning to face him.

you gasp at the sight of tom, who’s about to pull off his sweatpants, along with his boxers. he gives you a tease of a sight of his hard-on, only a smidge of his shaft peaking through the small opening, almost toying with you as you pout. why didn’t he just say so? “can you help me out? i got a big problem..” you thank the gods he finally asked.

not even needing to say anything, you immediately get on your knees, positioning yourself in between his legs as he now sat on the edge of the bed. freeing his boner, his cock springs out of its constraining, cold air hitting tom’s dick as he lets out a small groan of relief.

you waste no time in going down on him, licking a stripe up the length of his dick as you immediately suckle on the tip. drooling as you get his cock wet, you slobber your mouth all around the hilt, going up to press a quick kiss on the top, giggling. “aren’t cha such a good girl for me, hm?” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ears, admiring how prettily you sat below him.

fully taking him into your mouth, you bob your head up and down his cock. the more you sucked him off the quicker his expression was to falter, running his hands through your hair, he pats your head as a way of showing you how good you’re making him feel “f-fuck.. you do that s’well.. gonna make me come soon..”

now behind his cool and sexy facade, tom becomes adorable when you suck him off. jaw hanging low as he gets all shaky and trembling, balling the bedsheets within both his fists as he resists fucking his dick down your velvety throat. he has to completely resist the urge to have you gag on him, choke on his dick. maybe he’ll save doing that for another day.

his attention is focused on you and you only, watching as how his length so quickly disappears in your mouth as pleasure runs through his body. he can’t help but whisper sweet words as you run your tongue across him, “mmph.. your mouth feels really good.. definitely g-gunna, shit, make you do this for me more often..”

tom now has one of his hands holding your hair out of your face in a makeshift ponytail as you swipe your tongue across the side of his cock. his moans are whiny, and needy, and filled with total lust and admiration as he just watches you. god, even though it was the thousandth time you’ve done this, you make it feel as though it’s his first time ever getting a blow job, sending him into an ecstasy he luckily gets to experience over and over again.

“s-shit baby, gonna come..” tom gives you notice before you stick your tongue out as he spurts cum right onto the flat of it. ropes of white also painting the plush of your lips, you lick off the remaining and look up at tom, smiling. he places a quick kiss on your cheek that has you giggling, “t’was so hot babe, thank you so much.”

lol ! need 2009 tom to give me lock jaw from how much i suck him off lol !

just a thought , stay safe yall ;)

[eternalbright-star]

Herobrine x F!reader

🌷A/n: Am I really doing this? Of course I am, I want that Herobrine smut but can't find it on here. (First official post on here and it's smut-)

🌷warnings: smut, dubcon/noncon(?), hair pulling, marking, tentacles(just a bit), creampie, aphrodisiac, mentions of stalking, fingering. (let me know if I missed anything)

You honestly could find it within you to question how you got into this predicament, you just needed to find sugarcane for your farm so you could harvest them and make paper for books in your enchantment table.

But because they were so hard to find near where you had set up base, you needed to travel a bit far across the land, which caused you to be out after sun down, so now you were trying to avoid monsters that come bumping at night.

So with sword and shield equipped, you carefully trudged through the forest, not being able to throw away the feeling that someone must be watching you.

You chalked it up to a wandering trader who managed to drink an invisibility potion to avoid being attacked by zombies, but what didn't come across your mind was you didn't see his usual llama companions around.

You dodged branches and arrows, eyes focused at the path up ahead of you, despite being far from home, you still wanted to get out of the forest, something about it seemed to make you so unnerved and you just wanted to be away where you could have so many vulnerabilities.

Not really noticing the glowing white eyes that stared at you in the dark, nor did you notice tentacles that stalked you in the dark and approached you like a predator would with its prey.

But you did however feel the appendages wrap around your ankle, pulling you down to the forest ground with a shout of surprise as your body collided with the grassy ground.

You twisted your body to look at what had grabbed at your ankle and gasped in horror at the dark tentacle that wrapped itself at your ankle, brain trying to figure out what the source of the tentacle could've come from.

With footsteps being heard, your eyes glance up, causing you to shriek and crawl away as you looked at the being that approached you, with such predatory intent at that.

"Let me go!" You shouted, gripping the handle of your sword tightly and swinging at it, hitting the side of the tentacle. When you did so, a loud shriek was heard as he withdrew his tentacles and took a step back, cradling the injured appendage.

You twisted your body and stood up, nearly tripping and falling on your face as you ran away, lungs burning as you selfishly inhaled oxygen, as you looked back, watching as his silhouette became smaller.

But it didn't seize your running, but you couldn't get far when you were pushed to the ground, you were being pushed from your upper back onto the ground, your cheek making contact with the grass blades below you, “Let me go-” you were interrupted when a tentacle was shoved into your mouth.

Something sweet had ran down your tongue and down your throat, causing you to swallow the sweet substance, the tentacle had slowly retracted, and you tried to get up, but the burning feeling in your body stopped you from doing so.

“Ah…” you breathed heavily as you began to sweat, you tried lifting yourself up using your arms but you couldn't, so you laid there with your head buried in your arms with your ass sticking up in the air.

You quickly flinched as you felt a hand rub your crotch, causing you to make a muffled sound, you turned your head and weakly stared behind you as Herobrine knelt behind you, rubbing you through your pants.

You couldn't help but grind against his hand, trying to seek friction and satiate the pain growing in your lower stomach, so it didn't bother as much as you thought it would when you felt his hand go underneath your clothing, his hand toying with you nipples and how his fingers seemed to rub your folds, gathering up your slick.

Your body jerked when he rubbed your clit particularly hard, eliciting a shrill moan from you, every touch, every caress seemed to make your pussy so wet.

He flipped you onto your back, your eyes making in contact with his white eyes that seemed to glow brightly in the dark, he ran a hand down your thigh and squeezed your ass, while his other gripped your hair to pull your head back to bite you on the neck, eliciting a groan to come out of your mouth.

Your body felt so heavy and hot, and your clothes were not helping at all because of how constricting it was, so you tried to pull your clothes off of you, but was too weak from whatever substance he had made you swallow.

His stare bore into you, but he helped you take your clothes off nonetheless, leaving you in your underwear beneath him, he pushed his hips against your crotch, making you feel the hard on he had as he let you wrap your legs around his waist, he lifted up your bra to let your boobs spill out of the garment, grasping the soft mound and giving it a little squeeze before he took it into his mouth.

Sucking and licking your nipple as he pinched and pulled the other, grinding his cock against your clothed pussy, eliciting a moan out of you, your hand grasping his brown locks as you arched your back .

He let go of your nipple with a 'pop', his thumb hooking onto your panties to pull them off, leaving you bare under him on the grass, the moons light reflecting onto your wet pussy as you laid there all pliant for him to use as he pleases.

He ran his fingers through your folds, collecting your slick on his fingers before he sensually rubbed your hole, occasionally giving attention to your throbbing clit.

You were so...

So sensitive.

You couldn't help but feel so lost in the pleasure, you couldn't help but cry out when two fingers had entered you, his fingers much thicker than yours were, giving you this feeling of a burning stretch as he slowly thrusted his fingers inside your warm walls.

Being able to hit the spot that even your fingers couldn't during those lonely nights, all while you crumble completely just from his fingers, Herobrine watches you with a careful eye, watching your reactions and changing his pace and direction based on how you reacted and cried out.

His hard-on pressing against your inner thigh as he continued to watch you come undone, even after your first orgasm, he didn't stop, his pace remained the same way, but his thrusts were so hard and precise it had you shaking, that he needed to put a hand on your thigh to stop you from closing your legs.

Once you came a second time, that was when he found you fit to be able to take his cock, he pulled his fingers out of your pussy, his fingers and palm was coated with your juices, he stared at his hand before popping his fingers into his mouth, curious as to what you tasted like.

You watched with lidded eyes as he sensually licked and sucked his fingers of your essence, once he finished licking his finger clean, he leaned forward and buried his face against your neck while he unbuttoned his pants, slipping his hard cock out that leaked precum.

You shivered when you felt the head of his cock was being rubbed against your folds, coating his cock with your slick to lube him up. He licked and sucked at different places on your skin while he teased your hole with his cock.

Whatever skin he could bite and suck on was marked by him, like a show for territorial matter, like he's marking you as his.

When the tip of his cock is pressed against your hole, he could feel your pussy try to already greedily suck him in, pushing inside of you slowly as he leaned against his forearm that was next to your head, his free hand on your hip so he could properly insert himself inside of you without having to squirm so much.

Once he fully bottomed out, your mouth hung open while your eyes seemed to be on the verge of rolling to the back of your head as your sensitive body accepted his full size, his cock was like no other, he seemed to fit so snuggly inside you.

After what felt like minutes, he gave off a few experimental thrusts before fully on thrusting hard into you, changing into a more comfortable position so he could hold your hips with both his hands, to properly grind your hips against his.

As he thrusted inside of you brutally, the sounds of skin on skin contact and your loud moans echoed around the forest, his presence having made any nearby monster avoid the area around the two of you, giving you two the privacy that you needed.

Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders to keep you grounded, but all it did was have his pelvis grind against your clit, adding to the stimulation that had your eyes forming tears in the corner of your eyes from the severe pleasure, feeling so lost in his touch.

You were so perfect.

Herobrine could help but bite your bottom lip, wanting to tease and pleasure you at the same time, but that could be for another time, he could finally be able to get the taste of this pussy of yours.

You'd always felt that you were being stared at, but what you didn't know was who was doing it, he hung around your area ever so often, watching you from your window as you tried to pleasure yourself during those lonely nights.

Now he can be able to pleasure you over and over so many times, as he pleases.

He could feel that you're close, with the way your pussy was clenching his cock tightly, as if it greedily begs for his cum to fill you up.

With a bite of his lip and furrowed eyebrows, he lifted your hips, the new angle had you seeing stars as he hit the right spot over and over, a pornographic moan didn't hesitate to escape your lips as you desperately clung to him, your nails having been clawing at his skin through his shirt.

With a final thrust, the two of you came together, the thread in your belly having been snapped as you shivered, feeling ropes of his hut cum being shoot into you, your body flinching at the feeling of being full.

When you thought it was finally over, he had you flipped onto your stomach and he was thrusting into you over again, pulling in your hair to pull you against him, your back making in contact with his chest as he pounded into you.

The two of you going at it the entire night as he fucked loads and loads of his cum into you, by the end of it, you were spent and the effects of the aphrodisiac had already worn off, and yet you were still begging for his cock.

🌷End note: That's all for today! Hope you guys like this one, I spent too much time writing a full on smut , but here it his, hope you're proud of me!

[apothe-roses]

Dance of the Sugarplum Prince

Nutcracker!Aemond x Clara!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: violence, character death, smut, tiddy sucking, oral (f-receiving), uncle-niece incest, unprotected sex, piv sex, breeding kink, possessive Aemond, obsessed Aemond

A/N: I may not be the first nor the last to do a nutcracker au, but I’m doin it anyways! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. All rights go to HBO and George RR Martin

The snow falls heavy and thick outside the window. You watch the snowflakes dance to the ground while your family makes a ruckus behind you. The adults Gossip amongst themselves while your brothers laugh and joke amongst themselves. You love your family, but you’ve grown tired of your overbearing aunties trying to set you up with “nice boys” they know.

You notice a figure making their way towards the front door, making your own way towards it to greet them. Right after the doorbell rings, you open the door, smiling at the woman on the other side.

“Aunt Alys,” you smile and embrace the older woman.

“Forgive me for my tardiness, but it’s nearly impossible to make one’s way through that,” she replies, indicating to the storm outside. Other family members come to greet Alys, so you move to the side and let them. She pulls a large case out from under her coat. She reveals several beautifully made dolls, winding them up and letting them dance across the carpet. Your family is in awe. While they’re distracted, Alys approaches you.

“I have a special gift for you,” Alys says. She opens her bag, gingerly pulling out a final doll. He was a beautiful man with long silver hair and black armor accentuated with gold.

“This,” you aunt explains, “is no ordinary knight. He is a prince of a faraway land.”

“Oh Alys, she’s too old for dolls!” your mother calls from across the room.

“Oh, but he’s so beautiful!” you rebut. “Couldn’t I just put on on my shelf and admire him?”

“You can put these dirty dishes in the kitchen,” your mother tells you. You sigh, setting your doll on the windowsill. Alys follows you into the kitchen.

“Perhaps you should’ve brought me a real prince. That would’ve made mother happy,” you laugh. Alys simply smiles at that.

Suddenly, a loud crash sounds from the sitting room, followed by your mother shouting “Luke!” You rush into the room. Your doll is lying on the floor at your brother’s feet.

“It was an accident!” Luke explains. “I only wanted to get a closer look!”

You rush over, picking your doll up off the ground. One of his eyes is broken. Luke apologizes profusely while you carefully extract the broken pieces. Alys approaches.

“I couldn’t find a spare eye, but this should fit,” she says, handing you a small sapphire. You slip it into his empty socket; it fits perfectly. She provides a small strip of black fabric that you use as a makeshift eyepatch.

“Thank you, Alys,” you say, giving the older woman a hug. You don’t notice the worried look she gives your doll.

BONG

BONG

BONG

Was it midnight already? You must have nodded off at some point. You look down at your prince, admiring his handsome face. Perhaps it’s the dim light, but it looks as though his mouth twitches.

You’re about to go to bed when something moves at the edge of your vision. A small man walks out from under your Christmas tree! For a moment, you think it’s your prince. However, this man has two eyes and looks older. He wears a crown that looks like it’s made of wood. He’s looking around, clearly searching for something. You stay as still as possible, hoping he doesn’t notice you. Theres a possibility you’re still dreaming, but you’re not willing to take that risk.

“Looking for someone, Daemon?” a voice calls out. Both your heads snap to the corner where it came from. Your mouth falls open. It’s your prince! But he’s alive! He approaches the man, sword drawn.

“Aemond,” Daemon greets. “It appears you’ve suffered a horrible accident. Shame. I was hoping for a fair fight.”

“And you’ll get one,” Aemond snaps. At that moment, more figures storm into view. You recognize them as your brothers’ toy soldiers.

“Alright. Two can play at that game,” Daemon raises a hand, and several mice scurry out from nowhere. You clap a hand over your mouth, trying not to scream. Daemon and Aemond draw their swords, circling one another. Daemon strikes first, but Aemond is quick to block. The mice and toys launch at each other. You’re enthralled. Though bloodless, the battle is intense.

Suddenly, Daemon strikes Aemond’s blind side. He’s sent flying to the floor, his sword clattering away. Daemon smiles viciously, standing over his nephew. He raises his sword to strike the killing blow and—

WHAM!

A giant slipper knocks him off his feet. Aemond glances at you, noting you are now missing a slipper. He grins, then springs into action. He draws a dagger, races to his uncle, and plunges the blade into his neck. Daemon never had time to regain his senses before he bleeds out, choking and clasping at his throat. The battle stops. The now leaderless mice scurry off, and the toy soldiers return to where your brothers left them originally. Aemond walks over to you. As he does, he grows until he’s the height of a normal man. You stare up at him, lips parted. He’s tall, and even more handsome as a man.

“You saved me,” he states, kneeling at your side.

“I-it was nothing,” you stammer, blushing. “I didn’t want him to…kill you.”

Aemond’s lips curl into a smirk. “Such a sweet thing you are,” he muses. He reaches out, winding a lock on your hair around his finger. “It’s not every day a man can say he was saved by someone so beautiful or kind.”

Your blush deepens. “You’re too kind,” you whisper.

“You must come back to the castle with me. My family will want to meet the girl who helped defeat my wicked uncle and his wretched mouse army,” he stands, extending a hand to you. You look around the empty sitting room, wondering what to do.

“It’s only for tonight. I promise to have you back by morning,” he assures you. You bite your lip, not noticing the way his gaze darkens. Then, you smile and take his hand. When you stand, you notice how much taller he is. you look down shyly, but he tucks a finger under your chin and tilts your face up to his. For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. But then he says, “let’s be off then,” and leads you to the Christmas tree. With each step, you shrink until you can easily walk under the branches.

You spot a castle in the distance. A beautiful red fortress perched on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a sprawling city. The faint ringing of bells can be heard.

“It seems word of our victory has spread,” Aemond observes. “I imagine the celebration is well underway.

“Oh, but I’m not dressed!” you realize.

“Look down, little one,” Aemond replies. You do, and you gasp. Your simple nightgown had been replaced with a beautiful white dress, tied by a large red ribbon. The skirt floats in light layers down to your calves. Your feet are covered by red slippers with ribbons wrapped around your legs.

“How…?” you start to ask, the question dying on your lips when you look up and see Aemond had changed as well. He’s wearing a black and red jacket adorned with golden epaulettes, and also matching breeches and shiny black boots. His hair is loose, and the swath of ribbon covering his eye is replaced with a proper eyepatch.

“Come,” he requests, extending his hand. “We don’t want to miss out on the festivities.”

The walk to the castle is filled with merriment as the small folk throw flowers over your heads and dance and cheer. Inside the castle is even more merry as ball is in full swing. You spy the king and queen at the end of the hall, their matching silver hair catching the light.

Aemond leads you to the middle of the dance floor and leads you in a waltz. The night passes in a series of twirls and lifts, until a hush falls over the crowd.

The king leads his queen off the dais into the center of the crowd. Everyone pushes back, forming a wide berth around them as they lead a solitary waltz. You feel a large hand on the small of your back.

“Come with me,” Aemond whispers. His breath tickles your ear.

He leads you out of the room. The two of you race down the halls. You haven’t felt this exhilarated since you were a child chasing your brothers outdoors.

You’re lead into a bedroom that you presume is his. You don’t have time to take in the decor, as he grabs your face and kisses you hungrily. You kiss him back, hands tangling in his soft hair.

He deftly undoes the bow on your back. He tries to untie the laces, but he gets impatient and just tears your dress open. You gasp as your dress falls from your body.

Aemond scoops you up and lays you on the bed. He looks over you like a lion about to devour his kill.

“Have you ever been with a man before little one?”

“N-no,” you stutter, causing him to chuckle.

“Well,” he starts, “allow me to show you.”

He tears the rest of your underthings off, leaving you bare before him. Without breaking eye contact, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Your head rolls back as he sucks on the sensitive flesh, kneading your other side.

“So beautiful,” he gasps, switching to the other tit.

“So perfect.” He trails kisses down your torso. He fingers swipe through your folds. He brings them to his lips and sucks them clean; his eyes roll back and he groans.

“I knew you’d taste sweet,” he purrs. He lowers his head to your mound and drags his tongue through your folds. You gasp and instinctually shy away, but he pins you with this hands on your hips. You can only moan as he relentlessly devours your cunt.

“M-my prince…”

“Aemond. Call me Aemond,” he breathes, sending a shiver through you. You feel your peak approaching, closer and closer. It’s just about to wash over you when he pulls away. You whine at the loss of stimulation.

“The first time I make you come, it will be on my cock,” Aemond states, once again leaning over you. He sheds his clothing with ease. He’s truly one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. His cock is long and thick, and already leaking. He strokes himself as he gets into position.

“What if it doesn’t fit?” You ask innocently.

“It will fit.” He replies. “I’ll make it fit.”

He angles his cock and enters you with one sure thrust. You gasp loudly, clinging to his shoulders.

“Gods you’re tight,” he whispers. He begins to rock in and out of you, setting a steady pace.

“So wet, and I’ve barely touched you. Such a needy little thing. Absolutely begging to be fucked.”

You babble incoherently in response. Aemond chuckles and starts playing with your pearl.

“Already cockdumb are we?”

He pinches your pearl.

“I could keep you here you know. Fuck you—breed you— day and night, until your belly swells with my child. You’d like that wouldn’t you? My perfect little princess. My broodmare. Mine.”

You’re a little frightened by his declaration, but you’re to overwhelmed by pleasure to do anything about it. You can only lay there as you climax, the pleasure melting your bones and heating your blood.

“That’s my girl. That’s my good girl,” he groans, and you feel his cock pulse followed by a sense of warmth. He keeps his cock plugged inside until he starts to soften, then he pulls out. You feel a mixture of your fluid and his seed leak out. He hold your legs open, admiring the sight. Then, he lays down, pulling you into his arms.

“You’ll want for nothing. I’ll make sure of it,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your hair.

You lay against his chest, and it isn’t long before sleep claims you.

“Sweetheart, wake up!” you hear your mother call. You reluctantly open your eyes. You’re in your own bed, in your own room.

“I don’t mean to rush you, but we have some surprise guests waiting downstairs,” she pulls open the curtains, and you wince at the sudden brightness.

“Get dressed quickly! I need to get back downstairs!” she rushes out of your room, closing the door behind you.

At first, you don’t move. There was a heaviness in your chest. It had all been a dream. Of course it had been a dream. Mice soldiers, living dolls, and princes could only be the product of dreams. This is the real world, and there are guests waiting for you.

As you get dressed, you realize your prince doll is nowhere to be found. You must have left him downstairs.

Voices could be heard in the sitting room as you make your way downstairs. Unfamiliar voices. You round the corner and freeze. Sitting around the room are three very familiar faces.

“Darling, these are my half-siblings.” She leads you to the Sugarplum King. “This is Aegon,” then to the Queen, who smiles sweetly at you, “Helaena,” then finally to the most familiar of them all, “and this is Aemond.”

He takes your hand in his, planting a kiss on your knuckles. You stare up at him with wide eyes. He’s wearing an eyepatch. Over the same eye your brother broke. Was he hiding a sapphire under there?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you breathe.

“Please, the pleasure is all mine, niece,” he purrs, looking at you in a way an uncle should never look at a niece.

“What happened to your eye?” Luke asked abruptly. Jace whacks him on the shoulder, admonishing him.

“Ow!”

“It’s alright. It was an accident long ago,” Aemond replies.

“Oh, let’s not dwell on unhappy memories,” your mother says, turning to Helaena. “How is Alicent? It’s been too long since I’ve heard from her.”

The conversation carries on, but you’ve stopped paying attention. You’re not looking at him, but you feel his gaze on you. Just as intense as it had been when he made love to you in your dream.

A dream.

It had only been a dream.

Right?

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Ābrazyrys (Aemond x Reader x Daemon)

Summary: Daemon arrives at Riverrun. Pt 2 to this.

Warnings: Daemon’s usual disdain towards his wives. Smut with dubious consent. Angst. A lot of swords. One missing accent on the title because Tumblr.

A/N: So. I have always wanted to write a threesome, even since Lamb. And however fucked up you think this is about to be, I promise it’s worse.

YOU FEEL LIKE you are suffocating. As you try to sit up and scream, you find out you can’t. Nor can you breathe.

You scream, then. But the sound comes out muffled. What a terrible nightmare, you think, as your lungs burn. I have to wake. This is a dream. I have to wake. And you open your eyes, but instead of the peace and quiet of your bedroom, or even one of the demons that are said to frequent maiden’s dreams, you get something else.

“There you are.” You would recognize that voice anywhere. You think, sullenly, you would have preferred the demon. “I see your cunt missed me.” He gestures with his head to Aemond, sleeping soundly by your side.

You scream loudly, but no sound comes out. Daemon’s hand is clamped tight around your nose and mouth, allowing you to barely breathe. He is kneeling over your body, pinning you down with his weight.

“Shh. Don’t wake the babe, wife.” Daemon laughs, surely thinking himself the pinnacle of wit. You glare. You begin to trash wildly under him, kicking and pounding him with your fists. It’s useless. You may as well be punching stone with your bare fists.

The Seven favor you. One of your kicks lands not on Daemon, but on Aemond. He stirs, confused, and begins to sit up.

“What…?” Hope swells on your chest. Perhaps he can make good on his promise and rid the two of you of your bothersome husband. Aemond can get him off you, and protect you. He is as naked as you are, no weapon near, but there are two of you. You could try to overpower him.

But as always, Daemon kills everything he touches. Even hope. As Aemond’s eye widens, noticing exactly who has you pinned down in the bed, Daemon moves. He rolls the two of you to the side of the bed, and sends you tumbling over.

You grunt in pain, elbow slamming against the stone floor in a most unpleasant manner. Naked as you are, it scraps your back and makes you cry out.

Daemon is ruthless, and fights dirty. You have always known it. It is why it doesn’t surprise you that he grabs you by the hair and pulls you to your knees, cold steel kissing your throat.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He says, to Aemond. Your lover is reaching for his sword, not having even bothered to pick up his breeches. Not that it would matter. The two of you had undressed in the stairs, and not even made it to the bed before rutting against each other like animals. Both of you had been ravenous for each other.

The memory makes you smile. If you are about to die, you will do so with a pleasant ache between your thighs.

Aemond freezes at the sight of the dagger against your throat.

“Let her go.” He barks. Daemon laughs.

“Youth these days…” He mocks him, whispering in your ear. “Impudent little brat. You do not give the orders here.”

“Let us all calm down.” You try to speak in your most even tone. It’s difficult to do when you know you are doomed, but you need to give Aemond at least a fighting chance. He is too important to the war effort to die here, naked in your chambers. And perhaps you care a bit too much for him. “We can talk, Daemon. Aemond will leave.”

Daemon laughs again. He sounds hysterical.

“I am curious.” The dagger digs just a tiny bit harder against your throat. Aemond stands there, seemingly frozen, but his eyes are calculating. He is inching closer to his sword. You just need to buy him time. “What did you think would happen? Huh?”

You do not answer. Daemon’s grip on your hair turns a bit more punishing, forcing you to arch your back.

“Did you think I would let you make a fool out of me?” When you do not answer, he presses the dagger against your throat harder still. Blood begins to bubble up to the surface, dripping down your neck. It doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would, but it does sting. Unwillingly, you let out a cry of pain.

It makes Aemond lose his head.

“Stop that!” He shouts, grabbing his sword in one swift move. His tone turns smug. “The lady is pregnant. My seed has taken when yours never could.”

Of course he taunts Daemon with that. Of course.

The words make you flinch minutely. To any other observer, it would be nothing. A shift on your breathing or a slight tension of your shoulders. But to Daemon? Daemon, who has made torturing you his favorite sport? Daemon, who delights in humiliating you? He knows it right away.

This time, when he cackles, it’s not hysterical but full of joy.

“By the Seven Hells!” You can feel his chest against your back, shaking with genuine amusement. “How naive. You Hightowers barely know where to stick your cocks, and you think you have left her with child.”

You feel an embarrassed heat begin to bloom on your cheeks. You avert your eyes from Aemond.

“No, you see. When you were learning your letters, I was already married to her. She is up to her usual tricks, aren’t you, ābrazȳrys?” And because Daemon is a prick, he gives your hair another tug, forcing your back to bow. It has the unwanted consequences of thrusting your chest and hips out. “Such a pretty picture.”

He lowers the dagger to one of your nipples. It makes you stiffen in his grasp, as he thumbs it idly and presses it to the blade’s edge.

Your breaths become more shallow. Daemon is fucking insane. All Targaryens are. You do not think him above cutting it off.

Aemond should really seize the chance, now that your throat is in no danger of being slit, and lunge at him. You wouldn’t even miss the nipple, truly.

But instead, he flounders around.

“You are not pregnant?” His voice is disappointed. While Aemond had voiced his desire for seeing you with child, you had always thought it was another way to best his uncle, and not out of an actual desire to be a father.

“I have been drinking moontea.” You confess, guiltily.

“And why in the..?” Aemond rubs his face. He looks cross. He looks like he could hit you. Without noticing, you shuffle back against Daemon.

“We are at war!” You plead, trying to talk him down. “I am married! To your uncle!”

“Cold.” Daemon snickers against your hair. His hand wraps around your waist, as if he owns you. Aemond’s face contorts into murderous rage.

You realize this is not a good position to be in. Nothing good can come out of two dragons playing tug of war, not when you are the thing caught in the middle. You will either burst from being stretched taut, or snap in half when one bites too hard.

“What do you want, Daemon? Beyond causing trouble?” You whine, tiredly. Overwhelmed tears are beginning to gather in your eyes. Daemon ruins everything, always. He delights on crushing you under his heel, on making you feel small and hopeless. It’s a talent of his.

“You see, I have been learning a great deal from Dalton Greyjoy.” Daemon’s voice is almost conversational. Were it not for the fact that he is dragging the dagger between your breasts, drawing circles with it above your heart, placing it again at your throat, you might believe him speaking of the weather. “About war prizes.”

“War prizes? You have won nothing.” Aemond scoffs, lowering his sword once more.

“Drop the sword, boy.” Daemon orders. “Or the whore loses a teat.”

Aemond looks at you. His face is conflicted. On one hand, he is furious with you and your lies by omission, but on the other, you have a common enemy. One currently threatening to slit your throat. Again.

You nod at Aemond. He understands without you needing to say a word.

“You are getting reiterative, Daemon.” You feign to yawn. “Uninspired even.”

Daemon grabs your hair.

“You little..!”

But before he finishes, you pinch his inner thigh, hard enough to make him let go of you. You fall to your stomach, crawling out of the way, just when Aemond lunges at him.

Steel meets steel. You curl into a small ball, covering your ears. You wonder where in the Seven Hells your guards are. They were supposed to patrol the outskirts of the castle, but somehow, Daemon slipped their notice.

The more you look, the more horrified you are. Because while Aemond fights with intent to kill, Daemon is simply toying with him. They are not as evenly matched as you had hoped. While they both fight dirty, Daemon’s experience gives him an edge Aemond doesn’t have. He waits for the younger man to tire, before using Dark Sister to disarm him and nearly behead him.

“No!” You shout. Aemond stumbles. Daemon pounces. He grabs him by the hair, and forces him up, the same dagger that he had used on you now at your lover’s throat.

“I see I have been going about things the wrong way.” Daemon smirks at you. “Come here.”

Aemond struggles against him, silver hair disheveled.

“Run! Run!” He orders you. “Get out.”

You do not dare obey him, but you do glance at the door.

“Or do that, and I behead pretty boy here.” Daemon agrees, evenly. “Saves you the moontea, even. Abstinence is the best way to avoid pregnancies, after all.”

You step closer to Daemon.

“Come on, ābrazȳrys. Don’t tell me you are shy. Closer.”

You obey, getting close enough to touch him.

“In my pocket.”

You reach inside his cloak, making a face. Your fingers meet something cold and unyielding. Metal. Circular. Manacles.

“Put them on him.” He orders you, before addressing Aemond, mockingly. “Hands behind your back, sweetling.”

It prompts another round of cursing and struggling from Aemond.

Daemon tuts. He digs Dark Sister in.

Your hands tremble, but you place the manacles on a struggling Aemond. It takes quite a bit of effort.

“I am sorry.” You keep repeating, as you do. “So sorry.”

Daemon smoothes Aemond’s hair down. Annoyed, the younger man jerks his head away.

“Look at you. Pretty as a maiden, were it not for that gnarly scar.” Then, because it’s not enough to make a dig at Aemond, he turns to you. Daemon has a pathological need to hurt you. “Even looks like Rhaenyra in the right light.”

You roll your eyes. Daemon does something and Aemond squeaks like a girl. You cannot see where his hand is, where you stand, but it looks like he spanked his arse.

Unlike Aemond, you are aware your husband uses sex as an intimidation method. The lecherous expression he wears is part of it, probably. Or so you hope. He can’t possibly want his nephew, right? You grimace. You are also aware Daemon beds both men and women when it suits him to do so, and has never been put off by familial ties.

Daemon reaches for your hip. He forces you to twirl, in a motion that would be enchanting were it not for the fact that it comes from him. You jerk back, annoyed.

“Stop that.”

“Why? I am curious.” He pulls you in, hugging you from behind. Aemond stares, sullenly. Daemon ignores him, hips nestled tightly against your rear. He sways you from side to side, soothingly.

You understand now why he is so popular with maidens. Were you a few years younger, and lacked your history with him, you would fall for his tricks too. Give him your maidenhead, and hope he would marry you.

Aemond seems to fear that exact same thing, bound hands tensing behind his back. He refuses to say a word, but you can tell. Aemond is like that. If his leg was trapped into a bear trap, he would rather chew it off himself instead of showing any vulnerability.

You wish you could tell him he has nothing to worry about. You are no maiden, and you know Daemon. Yet, you find yourself too preoccupied to reassure him. Daemon is kissing your naked shoulder, lips leaving a cold path of dread in their wake.

“Why him? Out of all men?” He grasps your chin, and forces your eyes to meet Aemond’s.

Perhaps Daemon thinks he will shame you, forcing you to endure his caresses and stare at the man you said to love but could never own you. Perhaps, he thinks he can break Aemond by showing him that you didn’t only betray him through a lie of omission, but that you will fall into his bed without a second thought.

He is mistaken.

“I don’t know.” You say, straightening up. You look at Aemond. Naked, sapphire eye bared, mouth twisted into a grim line.

You are not much better. All your flaws are exposed too. The man who holds you is your husband, the one that never wanted to share your bed. He forces you to look at your lover, his younger nephew, proof that you are no more than an adulteress.

Daemon licks down your spine. You don’t feel any pleasure, just the usual apprehension for when Daemon is near.

“I just love him.” You say, eyes still fixed on Aemond. You hope he believes you. If Daemon intends to kill you, Aemond needs to hear it one last time.

“Hm.” Aemond averts his eye. You try not to sag in Daemon’s arms. You can feel him smirking against your skin, and it fills you with rage.

“Enough to break your vows? After years of solitude?”

Rage is a curious thing. It should energize you, make you fight hard to defend yourself. Yet, you have been told that it is unladylike to scream, or throw things. You are a woman. You can’t punch those that hurt you. And so, instead of yelling, your eyes just fill with tears.

“I just…”

Your soft voice breaks Aemond. He snaps out of whatever haze he is in, and lunges at Daemon. Unfortunately, it has the consequences of trapping you in the middle. Handcuffed as he is, you need to steady him so the three of you don’t topple over.

“You never fucked her right.” Aemond snarls, over your head. You wince. You know Daemon. This is not going to end well.

Daemon laughs.

“Now, you.” Daemon grabs him by the shoulder, delighted. “You, I can understand. She looks like her, doesn’t she? Put her in a green dress, and then…. Tell me, do you call her Muña too? Beg to nurse from her breasts?”

It is scarily accurate. But then again, when it comes to perversion, Daemon always is.

“Do you need a demonstration, kepa?” Aemond mocks, trying to play off the blush in his cheeks. “Need me to teach you to please your wife, old man?”

Despite the situation you are in, you cannot fight your smile. Nor can Aemond. And if there is anything Daemon despises, it is being made fun of.

“Teach me? You? I was already fucking whores when you were nothing more than an idea on Alicunt’s head.”

Aemond laughs. It’s a cold sound, one that usually indicates he is about to pounce. It’s terrifying, but not to you. To you, it only alights a ferocious hope.

“Whores. Not ladies. I suspect none would admit you into her bed, with your uncouthness.”

Daemon stares at Aemond. His mouth opens and closes, as if he cannot quite believe that Aemond dares speak to him so.

“Uncouth? Me? Women like nothing more than to be taken hard and without mercy. Ravished, really.”

“There is a difference between being ravished and being brutalized.” You mutter, without thinking. “Not that you would know.”

“So that is how the boy does it?” Daemon arches an eyebrow. “He mutters sweet nothings in your ears, tells you how beautiful you look? Bah. Any fool can do that.”

“Why couldn’t you, then?” Aemond taunts. You fight off the embarrassment starting to warm your face and ears. If there is something you would rather not discuss with your lover, it is the lackluster intimacy you had with your husband.

“How confident, Taoba.” An expert on building suspense, Daemon waits before continuing his statement. “Fine, then. Prove it to me and the two of you will be allowed to leave.”

You cringe. Is he suggesting you leave your people behind? That you just abandon Riverrun and run away?

Aemond looks at you. Your lower lip trembles.

“Now?” You squirm. The implication is clear, but you still dare hope you misunderstood.

“Here. Now.” Daemon wears a curious look on his face, assessing both Aemond and you.

You are suddenly aware of your nakedness, the confidence the months with Aemond helped you build gone. Your hands go to cover your breasts. It surprises you that he wants to watch you. He has always been a deviant, but you are still his ugly, unwanted wife.

The thought of doing anything intimate with Daemon in the room makes your skin crawl. You turn to look at Aemond, feeling helpless. It is a good opportunity to buy time, to figure out a plan.

You curse yourself for sending out most of your household to join the Green army. If your guards were not situated on the outside of Riverrun, if you had enough men to station some in your door…

Aemond meets your eyes. Trust me, his face seems to say, I’ll get us out. Even in cuffs, he is formidable. His eye pleads with you, until you are nodding.

Daemon might go back on his word. Or he might not. He has always been a rogue, this husband of yours. But the fact that his beloved Queen grows more unstable by the day hints at the fact that this is a suicide mission. It doesn’t look well for you.

“Alright.” You agree. “Let’s do this.”

Daemon gives you a small shove, towards Aemond.

“Kiss.” He orders.

You are gentle with him. You press a kiss to his cheek, very tenderly.

“He will have to uncuff me.” Aemond whispers to you, making you tense. “At one point he will. And I’ll kill him for daring to look at you again.”

It makes your stomach swoop. But not in fear, or dread, or anything that Daemon provokes. No. In genuine happiness. Butterflies-in-your-stomach kind of happiness. Coming from Aemond, it might as well be a love confession.

You kiss him, passionate and slow. He opens up for you beautifully, but you make a frustrated little noise regardless. You miss his hands on your waist, on your hair. His body pressing against yours, so close you feel every ragged breath he takes.

“Now, lovebirds. Off with the cuffs.” Daemon presses against your back, and reaches forward, to hand Aemond the key to his cuffs. You fight a smile.

Daemon presses the dagger back to your neck, and forces you to walk backwards. Never let it be said that Daemon Targaryen is not a risk-taker. When Aemond has gotten rid of his cuffs, he is already sitting in a chair, with you in his lap, dagger still on the hollow of your neck.

“Māzigon, taoba.”

Aemond does. He kneels between your legs, gently spreading them apart. He kisses from your ankles towards your thighs, but what normally would have you pleased, is doing nothing for you. You are self-conscious of Daemon’s eyes on you, on your soft stomach, on the breasts that now spill over your chest. You are not as pink and white as Valyrians are, and you had never minded, until you had been faced with bedding one.

He looks up. You stare down at him, wide-eyed and fearful. This is the part where he gets angry. Daemon is like that, too. No one wants a lover who spends so much time in her head, that gets distracted and starts thinking of chores during sex.

“Muña.” Aemond says, taking your hands in his. “You are crying.”

You had not even felt the tears welling up in your eyes, There is a hot feeling behind them, a knot in your throat.

“I’m sorry.” You sob.

“I don’t have all night.” Daemon complains.

“I can’t. I am so sorry, Aemond.”

“Shhh.” He says, whispering against your thigh. “I’ll make it work. Just focus on me.”

“I can’t. I can’t.” You say, overwhelmed. “Why… I can’t.”

Daemon sighs.

“Fucking hell.”

“Shut up.” Aemond protests, starting to get up.

Daemon’s dagger turns towards him. He moves it down, sharply

“Kneel.”

There is a tenseness to his limbs, a tone to his voice, that speaks of imminent violence. He sounds ready to gut Aemond from navel to nose. You cannot allow it. The idea of him being hurt makes you ill.

“You are making me self-conscious!” You cry, bravely dragging Daemon’s attention from Aemond towards yourself. “I can’t! I am no whore, I don’t perform on command, it doesn’t work like that, and you know it.”

Daemon has the same issues, after all. You wonder if he remembers the times he failed to perform, failed to put his cock inside you and a babe in your belly. You never told Aemond, knowing he would take delight in it. Even after all these years, you have kept Daemon’s secret.

“Me? You are saying that I am the problem?” The dagger turns towards you back again, his gestures wild. You shut your eyes, trying to keep calm and think. “That I what, disgust you so much you…”

“Do you remember what you used to say to me?” Anger turns you bold, turns your quivering form into pure stone. You sit up in his lap, and turn to face Daemon. How dare he victimize himself?

Daemon stares at you, lips set into a thin line. He then tugs the dagger away from you, avoiding spilling your blood. You wonder if that would make him harden more. He seems to be enjoying the power play much more than he ever did bedding you.

Perhaps his precious Rhaenyra cured him.

“You are insane. Stop nagging, and let the boy lick your cunt.” Daemon says, after a while of staring at your defiant expression. He turns you back towards Aemond, roughly.

You look at Aemond. His hands grasp your thighs once more, but he seems unwilling to go back to pleasuring you.

Stubborn as you are, you turn towards Daemon once more. He grabs your jaw, trying to move you to your previous position, but you resist. The ensuing struggle makes him harden even more under you, much to your horror.

“You said I looked like a cow. You called me frigid. You said my teats were sagging, that my cunt probably had teeth, that no man…” You spit at him, scratching his arms, his face, anything you can reach. Something snaps inside you, something that you had kept under and hidden through years of neglect and verbal abuse. “That no man would want me. Not even if I was the cheapest fuck in a brothel.”

Daemon flinches, as if startled. He doesn’t quite know what to do, when the meek little trout in his arms turns into a feral cat. He gets his bearings before Aemond, though, and hugs you to him, trapping your arms against your body.

“You said all that to a Lady? Your lady wife?” Aemond whistles. He rubs your knee, and you give him a sullen look too. He could have used the distraction to free you from Daemon’s presence once for all.

Thoughts of being made a widow disgusted you when you first met Aemond. Now, you might end up killing him yourself.

“Shut up.” Daemon looks at Aemond, eyes unseeing. His mind is elsewhere. “What would you know?” It’s a half-hearted quip, not even truly insulting.

You decide to press to your advantage. Whatever is going through his head, it doesn’t compare to the horrors he has put you through.

“I am not crazy. I remember. Each time I look at myself in a mirror, each time I think of you. I remember. Each time you came to Riverrun I had this feeling like I was going to throw up from panic because I knew you were going to say horrible things to me. ”

You punctuate each word with a harsh jab at his cheats with your finger. Daemon grabs your hand between his, and interlocks your fingers, making a mockery of it.

“You cannot be that sensitive.” Daemon scoffs, but his voice sounds strange. As if he is trying to justify to himself what he has done.

“It stuck. It stuck, and it hurts. I can’t. I keep thinking of you, hearing your voice say cruel things. When I look in the mirror, it is your voice I hear, I see every flaw and imperfection and I can’t stop it. The only times I forgot about them were with Aemond, but even that you wish to taint.” You sneer.

Aemond just watches the two of you, in silent fascination. He doesn’t seem inclined to intervene.

“And I will taint it if I very damn please! I may have been a cunt, but you are still my wife.” Daemon shouts, losing his temper. He grabs you roughly by the shoulder and shakes you as he speaks.

You hate when he gets like this. When he screams and gets in your face, and threatens you bodily. It makes you feel small, cower before him. You hate it.

“You cheated on her with Rhaenyra, and now you say that?” Aemond interrupts, perhaps sensing you need support. His hands on your thighs squeeze a bit. He can sense you are wavering.

The only way to survive dragonfire is to be made of Valyrian Steel. And right now, you cannot even pass for bronze, with how easily you are crumbling.

Daemon shoves you off him, enraged, and grabs Aemond by the hair.

“You love this, don't you? You love feeling that you had the power to take everything from me.” And it’s not about you, really. Or at least not only. This is about Lucerys, and the war, the witch queen of Harrenhal that Aemond killed. He places the dagger against Aemond’s good eye, making you gasp. It sickens you, that out of all things, he would blind him instead of killing him. It’s cruel. “You know nothing. I will rip out your remaining eye in return for this treachery. I let you continue your fun, despite half the realm knowing of your whoring. But I’ll be damned if I let a Hightower filth take my bride from me.”

“Daemon!” You scream, trying to get him off Aemond. His attention goes back to you, but instead of murderous, he looks broken. His shoulders slump, his mouth shifts into a small little pout.

Daemon grabs you by the shoulders, surprisingly tender.

“I fucked up. I know. I know I fucked up, but I don’t know how to make it right. Tell me how to fix it. Please.”

You know what he is doing. His whole life has gone to shit, so Daemon is trying to salvage what he can. The war has been moot, so far. They have only slaughtered each other and are no closer to any victory at all.

Another pair of hands grans your shoulders. Aemond.

“You cannot be thinking of forgiving him.” His grip is rougher than Daemon’s, knuckles white from the force of it. He is holding on too tight. He fears you choosing Daemon over him. “He has been fighting for that whore’s claim. He is infatuated with her. He sired her bastards!”

You remember the times you confessed to Aemond, limbs intertwined in bed, how hard you had tried to make your marriage work. How his eye darkened when you spoke of Daemon.

This should be all you ever wanted and yet, it falls short. You want Aemond, not Daemon, you tell yourself. But the sixteen-year-old married off to broker an alliance still feels elated.

Daemon finally wants you. Your husband finally wants you.

“I did. And I assure you, I loved Rhaenyra when we were both younger. But the war…” His words jerk you out of the haze. Daemon loved Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra, not you. It's heartbreaking as always, but you barely feel it.

“And this has nothing to do with her calling for your head?” You ask, sharply. The rumors say the Queen has gone mad, naming her closest confidants traitors. It is what Daemon deserves. He has never been anything but.

“She is calling for everyone’s heads. If you think you can still love someone who ordered your death…”

“If you think you can love someone who crushed your spirit and killed you in life…” Aemond mocks, letting go of you to pick up his sword. Daemon is too slow to react, and he can only raise his hands in surrender when he is the one being held at sword point.

His eyes, pleading, look for yours. You find yourself unable to look away.

“It’s true. I never appreciated you, and will not claim to love you. But you are my greatest regret. You are a sight for these sore, old eyes. I wish… I wish I had not been such a cunt, and we had built something.” Daemon pleads to you. Aemond scowls at him. “Give you children, raise them here. Settled down. You are not ugly or look like a cow. You are a pretty woman. And even if you weren’t, in a world as ugly and twisted as ours, your heart continues pure and beautiful. I think that a person who is so kind could never be ugly. Not in my eyes.”

The confession makes you sob. You turn away from both of them, grabbing a nightshirt and putting it on. You do not want Aemond to see you cry, less he feels betrayed because you are grieving Daemon and what could have been.

Daemon has always been good at surviving. When he thinks he couldn’t move you, he goes after Aemond instead.

“You have been good to her, nephew. Neither of us are good men, but my wife is a good woman and I suppose….” There is a pause. You can’t see either of their faces. Daemon is probably sneering at him. Aemond hums. “She deserves her treat. If she wants you…”

“How noble of you, stepping out. But don’t bother. I shall remove you myself.” Aemond’s tone is flat. His most dangerous. “Permanently.”

“You forget yourself.” Daemon drops his pretense of civility. His voice raises. “I have the legal claim over her, not you.”

“That is easily fixed.” Aemond laughs. He turns towards you, busy pretending you do not exist. “Wed me. Vhagar, you and me, in the manner my ancestors did.”

Daemon inhales, sharply.

“You dare! You dare, you… Green spawn!”

“Wed me.” Aemond begs. It sounds more like a plea for you not to abandon him. “Wed me.”

“Where in the Seven Hells would you go? You have torched half the Riverlands, they would never accept you wedding their Lady.” Daemon crosses his arms over his chest. He then turns towards you, cocksure as always, and not at all like someone facing imminent death. “Nor will they accept you for long, either.”

He is right. The torching of the Riverlands has happened despite you declaring for the Greens. Mostly thanks to Daemon taking Harrenhal, and enabling the Blackwoods. Mostly, because some of your lords still oppose a woman ruling.

You have brought on destruction to your own people, and you do not know how to face them. Once, you had sworn to protect them from the war, but you failed in a manner so spectacular things have turned into a civil war. There are two Riverlands now. The Blacks and the Greens. And it’s all your fault.

Running might be for the best. You have been an awful ruler. Perhaps, this way, your nephew might get your seat and do better for your tenants.

Shame, once again, burns hotly along your spine. You try not to let it show.

“They will if Aegon backs us.” Aemond sounds unconvinced of his own words. Your smile drops.

“I am sure your brother looks upon you very kindly.” Daemon mocks. “When you decided to play at being a petty King here, and left him and your family in King’s Landing as we torched it all.”

Aemond looks like he is half a second from beheading him. He even swings the sword back, preparing to strike Daemon.

“I will marry you!” You scream, distracting him. “And we shall follow Daemon’s plan.”

Daemon laughs.

“Why do you think I have one?”

“You always have hare brained schemes.” You roll your eyes. “I know you.”

Daemon stares at you. He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly.

“I might have planned to take you to Pentos. I was always loved there.”

“Good. The three of us can go then.” You wrench the sword out of Aemond’s hand, who only stares at you, stunned. Then, you go to do the same to Daemon.

“If we must.” Daemon complains, letting you disarm him.

Aemond stares between the two of you. You stare back, until he is the one lowering his eyes.

“We will go.” He agrees, turning to Daemon. “But only because it will please me to see you grovel as a dog for her forgiveness. You and I have a score to settle.”

“Do not forget yourself, nephew. You are the one who owes me a debt.”

“Then we will settle it there.” Aemond answers, plainly. “I look forward to it.”

Daemon just smiles. A bloodthirsty, deadly smile. You already dread whatever he is thinking of.

[junowritings]

Hii!! Would it be alright if i requested the companions of your choice (bg3) and Rolan reacting to meeting tav's older brother(or just sibling if youd like to keep it gender neutral!)? I had the image of him potentially running into them all in combat and just dashing in to help tav, everyone being so confused as to who the hell this guy is, only to find out their related. I think itd be even funnier if tav and their sibling were very different, or seeing tav with their sibling brought out a very different side than their used to. Maybe tavs very polite and awkward usually, but gets super playful and competitive (and maybe loses a few braincells) around their sibling. Tysm!! - 🍒

Thank you so much for the request cherry~! I honestly have a lot of fun imagining what it would be like if Tav had any family throughout the story so this was a neat write! I had to cut a couple characters bc this got to long but I do hope it was worth the wait~!

=======

Trouble seems to have a habit of finding this wayward band of travelers, or, more specifically Tav. Who knows what had caused it this time - tensions too high, the wrong thing pilfered from the wrong pocket, or maybe just the desire for some good old bloodshed. Swords are clashed and spells are thrown with abandon across the field of battle in a bid for coming out of this scuffle alive, commands and taunts lashed back and forth as easily as blades.

Somewhere in the midst of this chaos is their impromptu leader, doing who knows what to gods knows what. You’re grappling with your opponent, using the terrain to your advantage even as it muddies your shoes and rends holes in your armor that will need patching up later. This battle won’t last for much longer - with the entirety of your traveling party in roster you’re surprised that your opponents have even lasted this long considering the varied skill sets and questionable morals at their disposal. Still, that doesn’t mean you’re making it out unscathed. In fact, you’re mid-turn towards Shadowheart after a nasty jab to the back nearly has you tripping, the request for healing barely having left your mouth before it’s cut off with a shout…that’s not yours.

A new voice breaks through the cacophony of conflict, and there’s only a second to wonder the what’s and the why’s before someone else leaps headfirst into the fray with a shout loud enough to leave ears ringing. No one recognizes him, at least not from a glance, but he barrels into battle with all the grace of a bear as he all but slams body-first into the nearest enemy, sending them skidding through the dirt with a triumphant cry. The questions have to wait till later, burning as they are.

It’s only after the party sets about making themselves scarce from the last dregs of battle that all eyes are finally drawn back to this newcomer. Some with curiosity, intrigue; others with distrust and distaste for his sudden involvement - the question is the same on all fronts however - who is this?. Whoever he is, he seems unbothered, far more focused on pulling you to your feet. To everyone’s surprise he greets you like an old friend - a hand finding a way to your head mussing up your hair as you’re pulled into a crushing hug that has the pair of them almost tipping over back into the dirt. Laughter rings through the air as you swat at the offending hand, almost wrestling with the guy before the grip is finally relinquished and you pull yourself away.

You look…happy. Clearly you know this person, but who are they to you?

The question comes out curious, and the newcomer blinks as he turns to face your companions for the first time since his appearance.

“Who, me?” for a moment his head cocks to the side, as though the question has an obvious answer. Then he grins, an all too familiar smile stretching across his lips as he slings an arm over your shoulders, jabs a thumb in your direction and proudly declares-

“I’m their brother!”

Wyll

♡A sibling you say? The information shouldn’t be too surprising, Wyll reasons; you’re bound to have had a life somewhere in this world before the nautiloid crash, just as any of your wayward companions had. A life with family, friends and familiar faces that had been present in your day to day life before the mindflayers and tadpoles. To see a fragment of that life in person however? Wyll has to admit that he’s taken a little by surprise as he didn’t expect anyone related to you to make such a…memorable entrance. Not that you hadn’t, of course.

♡ You’ve been traveling together for long enough at this point that the two of you had begun to share tales. And yet the topic of family had never come up before, if only because Wyll wasn’t sure if you would appreciate someone prying into that subject. Gods knows his own relationship with his family was…tumultuous at best, and you haven’t actively tried to force information out of him he didn’t want to share, so he’d offered you the same courtesy.

♡ Now that he’s been introduced to your brother, Wyll's curiosity inevitably gets the better of him. He’s polite as he introduces himself to your sibling, making an approving comment about his battle prowess and good timing. In return he’s met with a bright smile that reminds him so much of you and a clap on his back as your sibling introduces himself properly in kind.

♡ Your sibling is quick to invite himself back to your camp, and while there’s grumbles from the others who seem arguably mixed about the whole arrangement, Wyll is all for the idea. It’s on the trek back to this evening’s campsite that Wyll notices how you practically brighten up around your sibling, a far cry from the reserved, quiet side of you he’s grown used to. How smiles that he’s so often seen strained or overly polite melt into something softer, livelier. Even bordering on snarky as he sees the pair of you throw about witty comments like its second nature, with playful jabs of elbows and the constant knock of shoes subtly trying to trip one another as you trail ahead.

♡ It’s a reminder of simpler times, and Wyll finds himself content at the sight of you finally letting your guard down. You’ve been on edge since the very first time he saw you at the grove, to see such a stark contrast to that moment with the way you smile and laugh now brings a hope that one day he’ll see more days of your happiness than of your grief.

♡After that meeting Wyll has no more reservations asking you more about your life and family back home - what you miss and what you’re looking forward to returning to once this is all over. Of course your brother gets involved, filling you in on everything that’s happened since you were taken by the Nautiloid and how things are back home. Home. With any luck, Wyll can help you and your brother get back there one day, minus two squirming cranial stowaways.

Shadowheart

♡ Shadowheart has a ‘oh gods there’s two of them’ moment from the second she watches you and your sibling grapple like a pair of children at the sight of one another. It doesn’t take much to fill in the gaps watching you actively cuss each other out in playful banter that would have had anyone other than close family or friends gearing up for a fight. She reasons that this person must be in the latter category, noting the similarities in your features and the similar lilt in your voices as you speak; and it’s all but confirmed once this brother of yours introduces himself.

♡ Whether you never brought them up because you felt no need or weren’t willing to share, she’s not going to exactly fault you for the decision. It’s not as though she can blame you when the majority of your relationship up until this point had been secrets, half-truths and blatant requests not to push her for more information than she’s been willing to give. 

♡ Still, it would be a lie to say that she wasn’t at least somewhat curious about your family. There comes the usual questions - who’s the oldest, what you did before this, where the two of you come from and the usual rigmarole. But Shadowheart occasionally comes in to probe at your brother's true intentions, the real questions she wants to ask. Had he come all the way out here to look for you? What had taken him so long? Surely if any other sibling had heard that their family was whisked away on a mindflayer vessel they would prepare for the worst? What are the chances that you just happened to run into your family here of all places? Thankfully by the time you all actually reach camp for the night she’s satisfied with the answers she gets enough to let your brother scarper away to catch up with you.

♡ She can’t say she didn’t expect that you were bolder than most initially thought. Sure you gave off an overly structured air tinged with an awkward demeanor, but she’s also seen that facade slip into something more coy and laid back. Shadowheart had seen it happen even more as you’d continued to bond, growing to trust the sharran and becoming more comfortable with each passing rest.

♡ But the way you interact with your brother? It’s a whole different side of you than what Shadowheart is used to seeing. She watches you brighten, grinning so hard it dimples your cheeks as you joke around with your reunited family member; and the sound of your laughter whizzes right past her tent as she watches you take off with your brother’s bed roll, tossing it to scratch and the owlbear cub with a triumphant ‘good luck getting it back!’ She notices that the mood at camp that night is significantly lighter than it’s been before that point as she comes to rest by her tent to give the camp a final once over.

♡ A memory tugs as she watches you, a distant thrum in the back of her mind as though ardent to remind her of something long since buried. It’s a nostalgic feeling - a feeling that Shadowheart can’t put a name to yet tries to chase anyway. But then comes the burn, the sharp pain of that incessant hole in her hand which flares up as though in retaliation to her pursuit. It stops her in her tracks, the familiar pain still twinging like a dwindling ember as she pushes the memory back down and rips her attention elsewhere.

Lae’zel

♡ Lae’zel can see the braincells being lost from here with every second that you spend around your sibling. Just about the only thing that stops her from turning her blade before the introductions is the fact that for whatever reason this person seemed inclined to actually aid your group, rather than joining in for the sake of adding to the carnage. Upon the revelation that this is your sibling of all things, Lae’zel’s gaze is sharp as she glances between the pair of you; an unspoken question as she focuses in on you - is he telling the truth? She’s trusting your judgment on this.

♡ It’s a foreign sight, watching you go from a bumbling, awkward reflection of yourself to someone so bold and loud. Whatever side of you this sibling of yours seems to bring out, it distracts you from everything else of importance in favor of catching up with someone who was so very sure they’d never see you again. It should frustrate her, considering just how vital this journey is even without the imminent threat of becoming illithid. But if it does you surprisingly don’t gain her ire from it; instead she allows you this moment of reprieve, moving into step within arms reach behind the pair of you the whole way back to camp.

♡ Despite the over theatrical entrance, she’s mildly impressed at your brother’s test of skill in the battle. Brutish, and with many exploitable holes should the enemy prove smart, but it was efficient enough to cut the tide of battle. She’ll tell him as such with no reservations, and you can see the cogs turning in his head as your brother tries to figure out if that was a genuine compliment or a backhanded dressdown of his tactics. His eyes dart to you for guidance but you offer no quarter, instead giving a grin watching him struggle to discern the answer for himself.

♡ You won’t have to worry about being prodded by questions from the Githyanki as you would some of the other companions at the camp. As things stand there are far more important things to focus on regarding the task ahead than exchanging pleasantries or reminiscing. With that being said, instead of retreating to her tent as everyone settles in back at camp, Lae’zel can be found sharpening her blade a little bit closer to the campfire not far from your side as your sibling regales your companions with stories and tales, both of shared memories and of things missed since you’ve been gone. 

♡ Saying this,once your sibling starts sharing embarrassing tales of your many fumbles you hear her pause to listen. It doesn’t take much to figure out that she’s paying attention specifically because of how you react, watching you practically squirm from embarrassment at the retelling as you whine that it’s nowhere near as bad as he makes them sound. Any attempts to silence your sibling get you a firm tug at your shoulder as she keeps you rooted to her side the rest of that night, giving your sibling the go ahead to continue - the tale was just beginning to become interesting.

Karlach

♡ Karlach sorely wishes that she could frame the face that you make as soon as you recognize that it’s your brother who’s come to your party’s ‘rescue’. Your whole expression lights up with an emotion she doesn’t think she’s seen in the past decade. Hope, relief - joy. You and your sibling just about crash into each other trying to hug, laughing replacing the sounds of fighting just moments ago.

♡ No sooner have you broken the hug Karlach comes forward to check out the newcomer for herself. Anyone you trust has got her full support too, so her welcome is all smiles as the tiefling joins the two of you as she introduces herself. If anyone’s going to make your brother feel welcomed into the party, Karlach is safe to say one of the very top of that list; she’s the life of the party and is willing to lend you her trust and companionship if you don’t do her wrong as you’ve learned firsthand.

♡ The moment you begin showing that side of yourself only your family is privy to, Karlach is here for it, and will actively encourage it. You’re louder, less awkward and more comfortable, and you can bet Karlach has never been more excited for that change. What she notices the most is how much lighter you seem to feel, no longer burdened by the gargantuan weight of ‘what ifs’ of what’s to come that have been plaguing you from the beginning - don’t think for a second she hasn’t noticed. 

♡ She doesn’t think she’s seen a shred of that stress or uncertainty since you’d reunited with your brother. Sure, it’s no doubt still stewing in the back of your mind along with the tadpole but seeing you let loose like she hasn’t seen before is a refreshing change of pace - like things could be really looking up from here.

♡ She wants to know how she can make you smile and act like that, and when there’s a lull in the conversation Karlach ducks in to ask your sibling exactly that. He gives her such a warm look as soon as she asks the question, as though her asking at all actually relieved him. The only answer she gets is a noncommittal shrug and reassurance that with time you’ll open up, joking that she may regret it once she sees the full brunt of how chaotic you can get. She doubts she’ll ever regret it, even as you goad him for hogging your companion’s attention and call for them to catch up.

♡Similar to Wyll, once Karlach’s seen your family for herself she’s absolutely brimming with questions about the both of you. This sparks the conversation of wanting to know more about your family, where you came from, what it’s like; it’s enough to make your head spin if you weren’t already fondly accustomed to the lively tiefling’s usual party banter. The three of you end up crowded around the fire back at camp that very evening, sharing stories over snacks you may or may not have ‘borrowed’ from the supply packs when Gale wasn’t looking.

♡ It’s a little bittersweet recalling old memories of better times when things weren’t such a tragic mess, but gods if it isn’t the best feeling on a night like this. The entire time she’s trying to commit every single moment of this night to memory, from the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you crack up, or the way you scowl and none-too-subtly try and boot your brother when he tries to tell embarrassing stories he promised he wouldn’t. You’ve got a good family, one that’s worth fighting for. She just hopes that she’ll be here long enough to see you reunite with them proper when all of this is over.

Gale

♡ Gale sees the exact moment that you recognize who this impromptu guest is. Your face melts from confusion to surprise, before an overflow of emotions passes through your eyes and you meet your brother halfway just about knocking the two of you into the dirt in your joy. The wizard is more than happy to give you time to enjoy this reunion, and may or may not subtly step aside to avoid the splashback of mud kicked up watching the pair of you practically running circles around one another in the name of giving you space.

♡ Once things calm down enough for you to actually fill the party in on the identity of the newcomer, Gale’s surprised he didn’t notice before. There’s clear differences obviously, but seeing the two of you standing side by side as thick as thieves with those devilish grins to boot the resemblance is rather striking. He chalks it up to a detail easily missed in the throes of battle - picking out similarities between faces is an excellent way to get a blade between the ribs, and Gale’s got no such intentions of being on the receiving end of that literal jab.

♡ It’s rather entertaining watching you and your sibling interact, though you’re certainly a lot more playful and reckless than the wizard has ever seen you act before. Gale’s had no such siblings to relate the experience to, but even from just this small experience of watching how you act around him is enough of an indicator that you’re more than happy at the uncanny turn of events. 

♡ Just don’t expect the trek back to camp to be a quiet one, not that it ever is whenever you go out anywhere with Gale in the party. Gale is ever the man of questions. Too many of them actually as the three of you are still prattling by the time that your makeshift camp comes into view. Who could possibly blame him, when their usually awkward and reserved team leader has a never before disclosed sibling suddenly run right into them in what is essentially the middle of nowhere.

♡ Curiosity, as it often does, gets the better of the wizard who will quite happily waste the rest of the evening away grilling the pair of you for answers to the burning questions that he has regarding your background. If you’re willing to share, of course. Gale’s no stranger to verbally putting his foot in it if given half of the chance, but he’ll respect any refusals to queries you deem too personal for right now. If you are willing to share however get ready for what is essentially a combined sleepover outside Gale’s tent because he will keep all three of you up recounting tales until you quite literally fall asleep in your seats. When he complains in the morning for the back pains at having slept in such an awkward position, be sure to remind him that it’s what he signed up for.

♡ Gale for one is happy that you’ve been able to reunite with a family member in light of such dire circumstances. It’s not ideal when you have such heavy responsibilities on your shoulders, but hopefully having your sibling around will provide you some much needed comfort and support in a time where you arguably need it the most. And that support is more important now than ever, especially with the looming threat of everything that’s to come the second you step out of this temporary respite.

Astarion

♡ This is your sibling? Really? Is Astarion’s immediate thought, and the first words out of his mouth as he gives the sibling in question a cautionary once over with a raised brow. He’s not surprised, not really. Instead, he’s more puzzled. Of course far stranger things had happened over the course of this little escapade - infant eating hags, cult worshiping goblins and of course damned mindflayers, just to name a (admittedly impressive) few instances. 

♡But what are the actual chances that of all the people to come running to your aid in the wilderness, where the only thing for a mile in each direction is woods, beasts and death, just so happens to be your sibling of all people? For a second he wonders if you’d gotten in touch with your sibling yourself - maybe called them over for help in a spot of trouble. But then he catches the way you face brightens with surprise, damn near sinking the poor sod into the dirt with how hard you grapple back to return your brother’s hug. Either you’re a damned good actor, or you’re just as surprised as the rest of them.

♡ Similar to Shadowheart, Astarion is more than a little weary of the sudden appearance. But he will outright sidle up to you on the trek back when your sibling isn’t paying attention to warn you to keep an eye on that brother of yours. There’s all manner of creatures who can wear the faces of men as easily as the clothes on your back, you’re the best person to decide whether this guy is the real deal. All said with a smile of course, though his friendly advice is only met with an eyeroll of all things as you playfully rib him for being so worried.

♡ It’s bizarre really, watching you laugh and joke with your brother. That carefree attitude and playfulness shared with inside jokes and snarky back and forth is a new look for you, though Astarion’s certainly not going to quash it. It’s an entertaining change - makes things more fun even if he could do without the mildly sickening display of a healthy family dynamic. It’s not as though Astarion can exactly relate to it, even with his own ‘siblings’, they’d all spent the better part of two centuries relentlessly undermining one another in a bid for their master’s nonexistent mercy and a taste of freedom that wouldn’t come.

♡ You hadn’t brought anything up about your background at this point - sure, Astarion knew the basics and had been working to get you to open up enough to spill more of the juicy details. But the elf had been firm in toeing the boundary of coaxing information out of you while keeping his closely guarded; an admittedly difficult feat considering with your damned politeness you’d go out of your way to direct any questions received right back at him as a matter of courtesy. You hadn’t made prying easy for him, which is most likely why it has taken so long to get a glimpse at your background - he just didn’t expect it to be in the flesh. 

♡ So when he sees the chance to pry for more information, you can bet he’ll take full advantage of the opportunity. He’s halfway through a glass listening to your brother recounting stories when he lets slip that it’s such a shame you never mentioned the sibling before - to think he’s been missing out on these stories all this time. You know what he’s up to, but your sibling falls for it hook line and sinker, dramatically falling into your side and letting gravity do the rest of the work to make you suffer.

♡ The obvious theatrics of your brother bemoaning your negligence of his memory makes the elf snort into his glass, and your groan and attempts to shove the deadweight off is only doubled when Astarion further stirs the pot about how you’d not even breathed a word about your beloved family. Why, Astarion was beginning to fear the worst for you, how relieved he is to know you’ve got such a lovely family looking out for you.

Rolan

♡ The revelation comes as a surprise to the majority of the party, watching your brother proudly clapping a hand onto your shoulder as he reveals his identity to your new traveling companions. Admittedly, this is not where Rolan ever expected to be when he’d crossed paths with your merry band of misfits for the umpteenth time, and feels rather out of place. He thinks he might be the only one that this is news too, until a quick glance at the varying degrees of confusion and mild distrust reassure him that he’s definitely not the odd one out in this scenario.

♡ For a second Rolan is truly baffled. In all the times that you’ve interacted with one another, Rolan’s always seen you as painfully awkward, going out of your way to be nothing short of polite and well-mannered with varying degrees of success. He’d long grown used to it, coming to expect it by default with each and every encounter. So how is it that someone who appeared out of nowhere and seems to be such a polar opposite to everything he knows about you, be your sibling of all things?

♡ But then he recalls just how different he, Lia and Cal are and it suddenly makes a lot more sense.

♡The next thing he wonders is how you having any family at all never came up before? You’ve shared conversations before, with him less willing to indulge you on a couple of said occasions than others. Surely the topic has come up at least one time before, right?...right? 

♡ He’s never actually asked you, Rolan realizes with a startling clarity. In fact, in all the time you’ve spent traveling and running into one another, the thought of prying into your own backstory and getting overly involved in your history hadn’t really crossed his mind; at least, not enough that he’d blatantly ask without sufficient cause. He was just being polite, is what he tries to convince himself - it would be rude to go getting involved in others affairs like you’ve been doing since you’ve met him.

♡ And yet the realization nags more than it should, feeling a little guilty that of all the times you’ve gone out of your way to learn more about the wizard, he hasn’t thought to do the same for you. He especially feels it upon seeing just how differently you act around your brother; you’re louder, bolder, and aren’t afraid to look like a complete fool - had he ever seen you look that carefree before today? He hopes it’s not the last he sees of it.

♡ He’s neglected to learn more about you before, so he sets to learning now, with about as much tact as an owlbear in an antique shop. He feels too awkward outright asking you about it, so he settles for the next best thing and promptly falls in step with your brother. There’s nothing like sharing stories on the road after all - and given how earnestly the tiefling’s asking, your sibling caves and offers to give him the brief family rundown - if only for the funny stories that he’s been dying to share with anyone who even remotely knows you.

♡ The two of them bond, much to your surprise. About an hour or two into getting settled down at camp you go looking for them; only to find them sharing an already half empty bottle of spirits and shooting stories back and forth about all the wild and reckless shit their respective siblings have gotten into over the years. Rolan flashes you a grin and offers you to join them on the story telling - your brother has shared some dreadfully embarrassing tales and he’s dying to know if there’s any truth to them.

[mediumgayitalian]

Will wakes up to Pierce the Veil, this morning.

He buries his head in his pillow and screams as loud as he can.

Of course, it does nothing. The music is playing inside his head, because his father is the most annoying being ever to pop into existence. Apollo’s children get whatever song suits their father’s current mood — not a good sign that it’s emo today, fuck — blasted directly into their cranium as the sun crests over the horizon, every single day, just so they know how much their dear papa is thinking of them.

Will, however, is head counsellor. And as head counsellor, he gets his daily brain torture exactly one half hour before the sun rises, because fuck him, apparently.

Has he not been through enough.

He screams again, quieter this time, conscientious of his still-sleeping siblings. The song does not go away. It will not go away until he is on his feet, any chance of unconsciousness having swiftly betrayed him.

The creaky floorboards groan in protest as he slams onto them, not bothering to remove himself from his blankets before rolling onto the floor. He considers remaining there, in the fetal position, strangling himself in his tangled sheets, for twelve point three seconds. Then he remembers he has a stupid shift in the stupid infirmary that he stupid runs, and forces himself to get up.

“Being alive is a prison,” he laments hoarsely. It has, tragically, considerably less effect when there is no one awake to hear his complaints, because it is four forty-two in the godsdamn mcshitting fucking morning.

His father is not getting so much as a grape as an offering today. He’s going to scrape an entire plate for Auntie Artemis.

He takes an extra-long time brushing his teeth, spitefully determined to be two minutes late for his shift. No one will notice, because no one is awake. The thought soothes him.

Nine minutes to his shift, he forces himself out of the bathroom and pads over to his dresser. He has no surgeries planned, today, so he’s not gonna bother with the scrubs, and he’s gotta do inventory, so he needs pockets. He picks out his head medic shirt and his lucky cargo shorts and starts to dress himself, squeezing his eyes shut to try and force his muscles into keeping him awake. He can do this. It’s fine. He’s got training with Nico today, so that’s something he can look forward to. If he can distract Kayla and her teasing mouth with training Gracie, he can ogle all he pleases as the son of Hades attempts, for the ninetieth time, to teach him how to use a sword without beheading himself. It’ll be great.

He barely manages to swallow back a shriek when he misses the leg hole for his shorts and goes sprawling.

Fuck mornings. This is an omen. He should go the fuck back to sleep.

As if hearing his thoughts, the stupid song in his head blasts louder. It’s hard to make out the words with all the screaming and drums and all, but he’s almost certain he hears the lyrics, don’t you dare!

“Al-right,” he snaps, scowling. “I’m going, I’m going. Lemme get my damn shirt on, yeesh.”

It takes him a second to find the head hole in the dark — because the godsdamn sun is not up yet — but after a minute of fumbling he manages.

He realizes, the second he tugs it over his chest, that something is wrong.

“What the —”

Now, Will orders his shirts in bulk. He has to. He’s the only one wearing them, after all, and the sheer amount of times per day that he is covered in bodily fluids is a number he chooses, for sake of his sanity, not to count. He is well used to the process of ordering his shirts along with other linen and infirmary supplies. Every fortnight, without fail, he orders a set of orange Head Medic t-shirts one size too big, because it gives him a little breathing room without being too baggy.

When he pulls on this shirt, however, it practically clings to his skin. He can practically feel the fabric groaning as it stretches over his broad shoulders.

And, worst of all — the hem barely brushes the edge of his ribcage.

“Austin,” he growls, practically lunging for his drawer to inspect the rest of them.

As he suspected, each one of them has shrunk. If it weren’t for the Head Medic decal printed across them in bold, Will would assume his laundry was mixed up with Yan’s.

“Why do I still try to assign him laundry duty,” he hisses, cursing himself for his oversight. He’s been busy lately — he didn’t do a very thorough job writing this week’s chore chart. He must’ve put Austin on laundry, and Austin is never allowed to do laundry, because for whatever reason, no matter what he does, he ruins someone’s clothes.

“Fuck!”

His watch beeps at him, LED display reading five o’clock. His shift has already started. All of his shirts are shrunk, and he’s out of time.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He shoves his feet into a pair of flipflops, sprinting for the infirmary. Hopefully, today is on the warmer side, or else he’s going to freeze, on top of looking ridiculous. Fuck.

———

Thankfully, the first couple hours of his shift are blissfully empty and quiet. With no one to distract him, he manages to finish the laundry list of chores he’s been putting off the last week — nectar and ambrosia restock, cabinet reordering, file sorting, et cetera. He has the place spick and span in under ninety minutes.

Unthankfully, he starts to get bored fast.

Feeling an awful lot like his father, which is unfortunate, he begins to slip into what his siblings call “the dramatics” (and what Will calls rational emotional responses, but, take some, lose some). Without his permission, he begins to glance at the door every few minutes, disappointed every time no one is there. He spins around his desk chair, kicking half-heartedly at the desk. He sighs, once or twice, with a tone that he would call tastefully bored and Lou Ellen might label as histrionic. After a half hour, there is on his face, Will cannot deny, a pretty big pout.

In his defense, he can hear the sounds of the rest of the camp waking up through the open windows: laughter, cursing, yawning, Drew chasing her siblings around the camp with her knife, shrieking, promises to return stolen hair straighteners, begging for mercy. Morning sounds. Familiar sounds.

“Ugh,” he mumbles, sinking back into his chair. Then, for good measure, he frowns harder and repeats with more feeling: “Ugh.”

As if summoned by his yearning, disparaging loneliness, the little bell by the door rings as someone stumbles in. Will brightens, jumping to his feet.

“Hi!

“Hey, Will, could I get some ambrosia, Sebastian stole Drew’s straightener and she — woah.” Mitchell freezes. “Um. Woah. Huh?”

Will rushes over to the supply cabinet. “Yeah, of course! I heard the screeching, did she stab him fully or just slash him? Should I come over? Should he come here?”

“Hnngh,” Mitchell says.

Will frowns, hands stilling on the ambrosia. “Mitchell? Are you okay?” He tilts his head. “You’re — really red, dude, maybe you should —”

“I! Hngh! Am fine!” Mitchell shouts, scrambling back from Will’s outstretched hand. He won’t meet Will’s eyes. “Actually, Will, you know what? Sebastian needs to learn, actually, and he’s barely even bleeding, so I’m gonna —” He stumbles backwards, knocking his head into the doorframe. “I’m just going to! You keep that, Will, I’ll chest you — see! I will see you later! Goodbye!”

He turns away and flees, leaving Will alone, again, with a container of ambrosia hanging limply in his fingers.

“That was weird,” he mumbles, and turns to put it back away.

———

Mitchell is far from the first Incident — capitalised, because they are indeed Incidents — of the day.

Maybe a half hour after Mitchell leaves, two more Aphrodite campers walk in. Will smiles, turning to greet them, but before he can even say anything, they shriek in unison and sprint off. As silly as he knows it is, a bubble of hurt begins to bloom in his chest — is everyone actually avoiding him today? Or does it just feel like they are?

(The ADHD makes it hard to tell. He gets his feelings hurt really easily, and constantly has to remind himself what is and isn’t rejection. It doesn’t help that he sometimes feels trapped, as one of the only campers with vitakinesis and therefore constantly in the infirmary. It’s hard not to feel a little isolated. But usually, he’s got his friends and his siblings to remind him he’s not alone. Hopefully, today is just a fluke.)

Nobody else comes into the infirmary during breakfast. Will eats the oatmeal one of the nymphs brings him, smiling at her and thanking her profusely — he hadn’t realized how hungry he was. She leaves pretty quickly, too, but a lot of the nymphs are kinda squeamish around the infirmary, so Will doesn’t think too much of it. In fact, he‘s put most of his shitty morning behind him until Kayla walks in for the start of her shift.

“Huh,” she says, after a solid minute of staring.

Will shifts defensively. “What?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Just preparing for our day, brother dear, pay no mind.”

“You are so strange,” he mutters, but he’s long since given up on trying to understand her.

For the next hour, things are almost normal. He and Kayla chat as the freshen up the linen on the cots, treating the odd camper who comes in for lava wall burns or sword scrapes. The infirmary is rarely ever empty once the camp activities start, but in terms of numbers, today’s a pretty slow day. Will starts to feel fidgety pretty quickly.

“Oh, ho ho ho.”

Will grins when he hears his friend’s voice, shoving his clipboard aside and standing to greet them. Lou Ellen and Cecil linger by the door, matching grins on their faces. (Which, usually, would be cause for great alarm, but Will is so bored and so happy to see them that he decides, just this one time, that whomever they’ve just robbed will just have to be an unfortunate victim. Hopefully it wasn’t anything too valuable.)

“Hey, guys! Please tell me you can stay for a bit. I’ve still got a few hours left of my shift and I feel like I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Of course we’ll stay, Willy,” Cecil says innocently. “How could we refuse with such a wonderful view?”

Will is too happy to bother correcting him about his name.

There’s not much to do, so the three of them sit by the nurse’s station and chat. If anyone asks, they’re talking strategy for the upcoming capture the flag game, but really, Lou Ellen heard Damien White from Nike and Chiara Benvenuti from Tyche arguing behind the canoe shed again, so they’re talking shit.

“I honestly don’t get what she sees in him,” Lou Ellen whispers, and Will is nodding fervently, “Right? I mean if she’s happy then good for her, obviously, but come on —”

“Hey, Will?”

Will leans around Cecil, looking for who called him. A group of maybe nine campers crowd around the door, all standing behind one of Cecil’s sisters, Julia. Many of them are giggling.

“We, uh, totally need your help.”

“Here we go,” mutters Cecil. Lou Ellen starts snickering.

Will hardly hears them, absentmindedly grabbing his stethoscope and toolkit.

“What happened? Was there a fight, do you need —”

“Rosamie’s leg is, like, super sprained.” Julia gestures to a younger girl behind her. “We got her this far, but she needs you to lift her to a cot so she can rest.”

“Hermes’ fucking wings,” Cecil says under his breath.

“O….kay,” Will says slowly. “Did you…all need to come for that?”

“My heartbeat is all weird,” pipes up a boy from the back. “I need you to look at that.”

“And I need a band-aid!”

“I broke a nail.”

Their voices start clambering over each other, rapidly getting louder. Will holds up a hand, silencing them.

“Okay, okay, I hear you. If you’re fine to walk, head on over to a cot, I’ll be with you in a minute. Julia, can you help Rosamie —”

“Can’t,” blurts Julia quickly. She holds up her arm after a beat if hesitation. “Totally pulled a muscle. You’ll have to carry her.”

Will furrows his brow. It’s Mitchell all over again.

“Okay, I guess.”

Unwilling to have a group of campers loitering by the doorway any longer, Will gets it over with, scooping up Rosamie with a hand under her knees and behind her back and carrying her to the nearest cot. Will knows that everyone experiences pain differently, but she seems awfully giggly for someone whose leg is apparently sprained.

A cacophony of giggles erupt as he sets her down.

“Gods, Will, do you work out?”

Will flushes. “I do the same training as everyone else, I guess.”

“Cool.”

Will looks at them strangely. How is that cool? He glanced back at his friends, eyebrows raised, but they’re hunched over the station, badly biting back laughter.

“Maybe everyone’s got the flu, or something?” he mutters to himself, even though he knows that’s not true.

He makes quick work of healing the group of campers. Most of them are fine — he couldn’t even find a sprain on Rosamie, but wrapped her knee anyway in case there was more pain. They left as quickly as they came, giggling to each other and running down the porch.

Without even a minute between, another group of campers barged in, just as giggly as the first.

The rest of his shift is chaotic. People practically pour into the infirmary, all with minor, barely there injuries — and all of them demand Will’s help.

Will is no stranger to busy days, but this is nothing he’s ever seen.

“I don’t get it,” Will remarks to his sister in a rare minute of calm, totally bewildered. “It’s like everyone’s suddenly got glass bones.”

Kayla blinks at him. He stares back at her, wide-eyed.

“Yeah,” she drawls, after a minute. She looks him up and down. “What a deeply confounding mystery this is.”

Twelve campers rush in before he can ask her what she’s talking about.

By the time Will manages to escape, it’s an hour past the end of his shift, and he’s crawling out the window in the back office of the Big House to avoid the crowd of people at the front door.

“Solace? What are you doing?”

Will yelps, losing his delicate balance and falling face first into the flowerbed. Low, raspy laughter curls around the air, and Will goes bright red.

“Just let me pass away,” he mutters, curling around a crushed daisy.

Nico snorts. “You are such a drama queen. Here.”

After another quick second of wallowing, Will takes his offered hand, letting him pull him to his feet. His shorts are smeared in dirt and there are flowers in his hair. Frantically, and uselessly, he tries to brush himself off.

“…Damn,” says Nico slowly. When Will chances a peek, he finds his friend looking him over, slowly dragging his eyes from head to toe. If at all possible, he goes even redder. “So it is true. You are walking around half-naked today.” Nico grins, wide and wolfish and teasing, and Will genuinely has to grab the wall behind him to keep upright. “No wonder the rest of camp has been so empty.”

“Is that what it is?” Will cries. “The infirmary has been — packed! All day! And no one has been hurt! They’ve been — they came for —”

“I think they came to watch the show, Solace.”

Will lets out an agonised wail. Alongside the flush so bright it puts his father’s cows to shame, he feels himself start to glow, like an flaming beacon of idiot.

“They’ve been demanding I carry them around places!” He looks at Nico, aghast. “I’ve been doing it!”

For a moment, Nico tries bravely and valiantly to keep a straight face. But then Will remembers the camper who told him he lost feeling in his hands and asked Will to hold his biceps to try and get them back, and his face must absolutely crumple in mortification, because Nico loses it.

“Zeus, Hera, and Hades,” he gasps, doubled over. “Oh my gods, Will, your face, you —” He cracks up again. Genuine tears pour down his face. Sometimes he manages to calm himself down, but then all he has to do is look at Will’s horrified grimace and he breaks down again, until he is literally writhing on the ground, holding his stomach.

“Oh — oh gods, I’m gonna — I think I’m gonna throw up —”

“I hope you choke on it,” Will says hotly. “I won’t help you. I will let you die. You’re a horrible friend.”

Nico shrieks again. Will has never seen him laugh this hard, ever, which is wildly unfair because he’s been practicing jokes with Piper in an attempt to see him smile more often, and this is what finally gets him?

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t, Solace,” Nico sighs, finally starting to calm down for real. The smile on his face doesn’t go anywhere. “Help me up.”

Will pouts. “Whatever.” He should leave Nico there to rot, but he reluctantly clasps their palms together and yanks him upright. He goes to pull away, but Nico squeezes his wrist, holding fast.

Will stares at him with wide eyes. Slowly, his wide smile thins into a crooked, downright dangerous smirk.

Will goes weak at the knees.

“I know you’re going to go get a bunch of new shirts immediately,” he murmurs, and honestly, who gave him the right to a voice like that? Huh? Who did Will piss off? What does he need to do to make amends? “But, well.” He glances down, then back up, smirk widening. “If you wanted to wear that shirt when you’re ogling at me during training, I wouldn’t mind. Might even the playing field.”

And then, because the gods actually hate him, Nico winks. He lets go of Will’s wrist and saunters off without another word, idly swinging his sword as he whistles.

Will crawls back into the flower bed, face plants in the dirt, and yells for ten whole minutes.

[whaledenwtf]

Gale Dekarios X Sorcerer!Reader - Spin the Bottle

The Gale girlies of tiktok got their clutches in me and I want him. I already had my hands full with wanting Astarion AND Halsin but now Gale too? I can't believe I've dedicated so much time to PIXELS. Anyways, here's some wizard sex. :)

AO3 LINK: Here Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist: Here

Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Body Worship ( Female Receiving), Creampie, Oral (Female Receiving), Misuse of the Mage Hand Cantrip (oh yeah), Praise Kink, Spin the Bottle Trope, Angst too!!! Sorry

I try to keep Gale as close to his character as possible but the idea of even entertaining Mystra in the fic for more than half a moment fills me with anger. So I try to only bring her up during the angst.

WORD COUNT: 5325

The last few days... weeks? Have been awful. Ever since you met all your companions in the wreckage of the nautiloid ship (and evidently, the wreckage of any normalcy) you've spent every day exploring the Sword Coast looking for answers and seeking guidance on how to rid yourselves of the tadpole. During the day, the heat is cooled by the breeze of the ocean, but nothing can quell the stress of the band of misfits you find yourself surrounded by.

"We should head to the cre'che. You may be too far gone, too weak, but I need the guidance of Queen Vlaakith." A chorus of groans echo Lae'zel's words.

"All offense, but I do not want a githyanki prodding in my skull." Shadowheart tells her annoyed. You roll your eyes, bracing yourself for the oncoming fight. You've been around them long enough to know that the daily Lae'zel and Shadowheart fight will have to be broken up by you, again. Lae'zel unsheathes her sword and points it towards Shadowheart.

"Just because you are a k'chakhi, doesn't mean (Y/N) can't understand reason." You look around and see everyone look annoyed. Well, almost everyone. Astarion always watches the fights with glee, bright smiles and wicked intentions.

"Excuse me? What did you just call me? I'll make sure Shar punishes you greatly." Shadowheart pulls out her mace. You can already tell this will get bloody. You walk in between them and put your arms out.

"Enough. For gods sake, both of you need to relax. You're both acting unreasonable." You cringe the moment you say those words.

"Unreasonable?!" They both respond, aiming their weapons at you. You roll your eyes, pulling out your staff.

"Point those weapons at me again and I'll make sure to cast a Hold Person so well you'll be stuck here until you transform." Everyone's mouths drop open at your words. You were a sorcerer, usually kind tempered, or you'd like to think so. This has been the tenth time you had to break up a fight between the two in the last three days. It was sickening, and you were at your wits' end. Astarion giggles with glee, clapping his hands at your words. You point your staff at him too.

"I'll cast it on you too-" He pouts at your words, no longer finding the threat fun when it's directed towards him. "Now all of you shut the hells up so we can go find more answers on what to do. No more fighting." Everyone nods silently. You exhale loudly and smile.

"Now let's go." Lae'zel scoffs, sheathing her weapon and bumping Shadowhearts shoulder as she walks past. You turn away and lead the group forward, going towards the Goblin Camp that is holding Arch Druid Halsin captive; the druids in the grove said he may have information on your tadpoles.

"I'm afraid that I cannot heal you. These tadpoles are different, and have magic that even someone as experienced as I cannot remove them." Halsin tells you sadly. The group groans at the tall elf's words. After completely eradicating all the goblins and other beasts in the camp, Halsin is still unable to help.

"However, I was able to track that they are coming from the Shadow Cursed lands, and may be tied to the Moonrise Towers." This was news! Not as good as you were hoping, but its a lead! A start to an otherwise longer journey.

"I appreciate you trying Halsin. Thank you." You tell him quietly. He nods, his hand on your shoulder.

"I should be the one thanking you. You have freed me and explained what Kagha was planning to do to the Emerald Grove-" Astarion cuts off the Druid.

"Yes yes, we get it. We helped. Seems like we did it for no reason." Without turning your gaze away from Halsin, you wack him with your staff. After a loud thump and Astarion's "ow", you smile at the elf.

"No need to thank me, Halsin. Your information will guide us onward." He nods, frowning for a moment.

"Once I get back from ending the Rite of Thorns, I will meet you at your camp and join you on your journey. I hate to ask more of you, but I need assistance with eradicating the Shadow Curse."

"More help?!" Astarion exclaims. You turn around, ready to strike again, but Gale beats you to it. He does you a solid and wacks him upside his head with a large tome. Astarion flinches, complaining about his hair. You smile at Gale in thanks, who winks in response to you before you turn back to Halsin, blushing.

"I'm sure in ridding the curse we may find more information about the parasites." Halsin engulfs you in a hug, and you laugh patting his back.

"Thank you, little one. I will trek to the Grove now. You are more than welcome to join me." You turn to look at all your companions, some of which seem eager to go back to the Grove.

"I think we should, just incase a rampant goblin attacks you again." Halsin chuckles, before letting go of you.

"Then let us make haste."

At the Grove, you watch as Halsin berates Kagha. Afterwards you see Zevlor run up to you.

"We must thank you (Y/N)! We gathered all our gold so we can give you something for your troubles." You watch as the man pulls out a small pouch, filled with everyone's gold. You felt pity, as the need to do good outweighed any reward, especially one so small. You knew taking their gold would leave them only with the clothes on their backs, and the supplies they had.

"Oh Zevlor, I cannot take this from you. Keep it for Baldur's Gate. We are just grateful we were able to help in time." He shakes his head.

"At least let us thank you. We can celebrate at your camp and share our wine and food with you." You ponder this.

"Something to destress may be necessary, lest we hear Lae'zel and Shadowheart fight again." Gale whispers in your ear. Your breath hitches. Ever since you pulled Gale of Waterdeep from the collapsing portal, you've been smitten. Despite his very human nature, his soft brown eyes, beautiful features and prose had caught your attention. He was gorgeous, and your heart yearned for him, mind, body and soul.

"If I have to hear the word cre'che one more time I might gauge my eyes out." You whisper back. He chuckles, the sound warm and it shoots straight to your core. You make your decision.

"I think a celebration with some wine, food and good company would be a great reprise from all the stress. We'll see you at sundown." The group cheers, excited for some wine and relaxation. This seems like the first decision everyone agreed with. You smile at them as Zevlor walks away, telling the tieflings about the celebration.

You were already drunk off the vinegar-like wine, teetering on the edge of consciousness and depravity. You see all your companions scattered across the camp; some entertaining the company of the tieflings, others drinking on their lonesome. This won't do! Your drunk mind exclaims. Before you could act on it, Astarion walks up to you, smirking.

"Well, hello to you sweetheart." You blush at his forwardness. It seems everyday you spend together he gets more bold in his words and touches, but he isn't Gale.

"H-hello Astarion." You tell him, stuttering from your inebriated state. His cold hand meets your arm, and you startle, sobering up momentarily.

"Just a hello? I was hoping for a better form of greeting." You roll your eyes at his theatrics.

"And what would that form of greeting be, my beloved?" You ask him sarcastically. He grins, his fangs glistening in the lowlight of the campfire and lanterns scattered about.

"Perhaps a kiss? Maybe a night, with yours truly? I can make you feel things no man has ever made you feel before~" He grabs your waist and pulls you close.

"No things a man has made me feel before? That's cute, but won't work on me." You tell him, slapping the side of his face as though he were a child.

"Won't work? Darling, it's true! I will make you crave my touch~" He whispers to you. You laugh in his face, and he frowns at your response.

"You should go into comedy with such jokes!" He lets go of you and pouts.

"You're no fun." You smirk at his words.

"Oh I'm plenty of fun. You're just not my type." He is taken aback.

"I'm everyone's type, sweetheart. You're just lying to yourself- or your standards are quite low." You really can't entertain his theatrics any longer, your eyes already looking around for Gale.

"Alright Astarion. As lovely as this conversation was, I've got to go." You pull away from him, spotting the wizard near his tent, a glass of wine in one hand and tome in the other. You rush towards him, before your journey is cut off by Karlach.

"H-hey soldier!" You smile at the tiefling.

"Hi Karlach. Are you enjoying yourself?" She nods, her body swaying.

"Of course! Between my engine sort-of working for now, and the booze, I'm on cloud nine!" She tells you, spinning in place. You giggle at her theatrics, before stabilizing her when she gets too dizzy.

"I was thinking of playing spin the bottle! Now that I can't burn people it would be fun to play-" She gives you puppy dog eyes. You feel bad for Karlach, you really do. A victim to Zariel, and now to her infernal engine, you can tell she just wants to be hugged and loved. You hug her, grinning. She grips you back tightly, sighing into your arms.

"Let's gather the others! Can't wait for the inevitable Lae'zel and Shadowheart kiss." You both laugh. You let go of each other and rally the others. You manage to get Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Astarion to join you near the campfire. Even Halsin decides to join, after you ask him sweetly. You're all sitting in a circle, with Halsin to your left and Astarion on your right. Gale is sitting directly infront of you, and you catch his gaze more than once. You decide that if anyone asks, the blush is not from the handsome wizard, but the booze. Yeah that'll work, you think to yourself.

"Can't wait to kiss you, sweetheart." Astarion tells you. You roll your eyes, taking a sip of a new bottle of wine.

"Get in line, fangs." Karlach tells him, smirking at you. You laugh at her words.

"Alright, alright. Let's get to kissing!" You smirk at everyone. After a minute of downing the bottle in your hand, you empty it and put it in the center of the circle.

"Now that little alchy finished drinking, who wants to spin first?" Astarion speaks up, smirking at your companions. With enthusiasm, Karlach shouts.

"ME ME ME!" You chuckle at her reaction, and give her the go-ahead. You watch her buzzing in her seat as she spins the bottle. It does one, two, three spins before landing on Wyll. They look at eachother, eyes wide.

"Oh shit-" Karlach whispers. The whole circle starts chanting, and after a minute of tense stillness they kiss. You all cheer, laughing and smiling. Then they don't let go, still kissing. The cheering gets louder,

"Oh gods, split it up." Astarion says, fake gagging. They split, gasping. Both of them are blushing, and you smirk.

"Had fun?" You tease them. They look away from each other, realizing the implications of their kiss.

"Alright, now Wyll's gotta spin!" You tell them, grinning. Wyll shuffles closer to the bottle, watching it spin until it lands on Halsin. You gasp, before cheering. Their kiss was quick, but you could tell Halsin was in control. He chuckles as they part, and Wyll sits back down. Halsin spins the bottle, and it spins for a solid ten seconds until it lands on Shadowheart.

"Now this will be interesting." Astarion whispers into your ear. You giggle into your hand, nodding. Your eyes split from Halsin and Shadowheart to see Gale watching you and Astarion's closeness with a frown. Before you could give him a look, you hear cheering. Your eyes glance back at Halsin, who pulls Shadowheart onto his lap and grips her tightly as they are kissing. Your eyes widen, lips parting.

"Oh." After a minute, they split, panting. Shadowheart stands from his lap, her legs left unstable from the powerful kiss. She fans herself for a second before spinning the bottle. It barely does a full turn before it lands on Lae'zel. You start laughing loudly.

"Absolutely not." She says loudly, already reaching for the bottle.

"Hey! No respins!" Karlach says, eyebrows furrowed. Shadowheart huffs. Lae'zel hasn't spoken up, just watching Shadowheart's plight with a grin.

"Fine. But watch yourself, githyanki. I will not hesitate to end you if there's any funny business." Lae'zel rolls her eyes, before pulling Shadowheart into a passionate kiss. Everyone's jaws drop as they kiss, all their verbal fights (and some physical, mind you) seemingly have turned into sexual tension. Lae'zel pulls Shadowheart into her, before pushing her under her. After hearing someone moan, you decide to cut it out.

"Okay, stop! Holy hells, if you're gonna do that do it in the privacy of your own damn tent." You tell them, grimacing at the sounds coming from them. Without a word, Lae'zel picks up Shadowheart and walks away from the circle. You guffaw, before turning back to the other companions, eyes wide.

"Um-" Astarion cuts you off, smirking.

"Alright! Since they left its my turn!" He claps, before spinning the bottle. It lands on you, and you groan.

"Come here, sweetheart." He whispers. As he closes his eyes, you give him a quick peck and turn away before he could wonder what happened.

"That was hardly a kiss!" He shouts, crossing his arms.

"Oh, boo hoo Astarion." You tell him, laughing. You spin the bottle. It does one, two, three, four turns, before it lands on the object of your attentions. Gale's eyes widen, and he freezes up.

"Pucker up wizard, it'll be done before you know it." Astarion sulks from beside you. You crawl towards him, blush deepening. When you get into his personal space, you sit down on your haunches and get comfortable. His hand goes to the side of your face, while the other goes to your waist. Your arms wrap around his neck and you meet in the middle.

This kiss was unlike any other you had in your life. The world around you disappeared, sounds muffled. All you could feel was Gale and his magical essence. You became tuned to one another, magic flowing freely between you both. His hands move around, the one on your hip going to the small of your back and pulling you closer, as the one that was holding your face goes to the back of your neck to hold you to him. Your lips open when his tongue traces the seam of your lips. Your tongues battle for dominance, and you moan into his mouth. That seems to snap him out of the trance, and he separates from you. You can see his deep blush, and he gets up and runs off. Your eyes follow him, and you furrow your brows.

"If he ran away because of your kissing skills, maybe I should be grateful you only gave me a peck." Astarion says. Your eyes snap back to his.

"My kissing isn't the problem. I'll go check on him." You get up, dusting the dirt off your legs and walking towards his tent. When you turn around, to glance at your companions, you see Karlach and Wyll cheering on Astarion and Halsin as they kiss. You roll your eyes and look forward, going into a jog so you could reach Gale's tent sooner.

When you get to his tent, you cough outside so he can hear you. You hear him mutter a "come in" so you enter slowly. When you enter his tent, your eyes widen. Its larger on the inside, and looks homely. There are towers of tomes and books, some old and some new, and your eyes are taking in the beauty of the bigger-on-the-inside tent that reflects Gale's personality. When your eyes stop wandering, you notice Gale sitting on the edge of his large bed, hands holding his head as he sits dejected.

"I wanted to check in on you." You tell him quietly, walking closer to him. He sighs, and looks up at you.

"I'm sorry-" You reach him in two short strides, and kneel so you are below him. His eyes follow your movements, and you see the sorrow and sadness lurking in his beautiful brown eyes.

"You never need to apologize to me Gale. Are you okay?" You ask him softly. He sighs again, frowning.

"I'm not." He says quietly. You know he's upset, by the succinctness of his words.

"You can always tell me what's wrong. You know I care about you-all of you." You save yourself at the last moment. Now's probably not the time to admit your feelings, especially when he doesn't seem receptive to your advances.

"I'm just-" He exhales loudly. "You're not the issue here, (Y/N). I am. Everything I have done, everything I do, was for her. Now I feel lost, between the bomb inside my chest and the tadpole in my head, I feel as though I have no control over anything." Your hands gently takes one of his, holding him softly.

"You are the most talented wizard I have ever met, Gale of Waterdeep. You have control over everything, more than most of us." He shakes his head, eyes getting misty.

"You're wrong, you know. I have lost favour with my goddess, and have lost control over my emotions it seems. I just ran away from you and you still check in on me. Gale's Folly, I once named my demise. But it seems everything I do adds to my torment, and it affects others." You go to deny him but he cuts you off. He turns to the side, looking in the distance.

"I have always known my purpose, since I was young. Hone my powers, control the weave. Serve my goddess. The universe that was once kind to me has turned against me, against my reverence for Mystra. I was cursed, am cursed. In the deepest darkest shadows of my folly, I met you. A sorcerer who I respect and admire greatly. Now I am destined to lose that too-" You grip his hand tightly.

"You have not lost me yet, Gale." You whisper gently to him. His face snaps back to yours, his eyes searching yours for the truth. All he sees is your honesty and admiration.

"I do not deserve you." He whispers, shedding a tear. You wipe the tear away, holding his face.

"It is I who does not deserve you, Gale. You've been hurt, badly. I would never expect anything from you more than what you are ready to tell me. You must know how important you are to us, to me." He looks down at his lap, pondering.

"I've always felt the need to do anything to serve Mystra. Even sacrifice the deepest parts of myself for her, if she had asked. Many times, she had. But you; you ask nothing more from me. You give without taking, and I don't understand how you think I am deserving of your kindness." He whispers.

"Gale. You are magnificent. I care about you, more than I care for the others. Ever since I pulled you out of that portal I knew that you'd be someone I'd care for. Since then, all I've done is fallen more for you. You don't need to reciprocate any feelings, but you have to know how much someone cares for you- I care for you. You are worth much more than Mystra has ever given you credit for." His eyes snap back to yours, widening at your words.

"I did not realize-" You cut him off gently, the hand on his face squeezing slightly.

"I was afraid to say anything. I understand your trepidation regarding your situation. If I was in your position I would have given up long ago. But please, please do not think for a moment you are not worthy of love. You are kind, good of heart and deserving of more than most of us in camp." He pulls you into a hug. Your arms find themselves around him, squeezing him tightly. Your head finds itself in the crevice of his neck, inhaling his scent of old books and hazelnut; a scent you could only describe as Gale.

"I'm sorry. I do care about you, deeply. I have not felt such a way since Mystra, but sitting here with you now, I have never felt such acceptance and understanding. I'm afraid of what darkness the future holds, but it does not seem as dim if you are there with me." He tells you into your ear. You sigh, nudging your nose deeper into his neck. You leave a soft kiss on the side of his neck before pulling away.

"I'll help you rid yourself of the Netherese Orb, and then the parasite. You are not alone." His hands grip the sides of your face.

"I can never feel alone when I'm with you." He pulls you into a kiss, and the adoration he feels for you translates in the movement of his lips. You kiss him softly, before pulling away.

"I do not want to take advantage of you when you are feeling so low." You gaze at him, admiring his looks. His eyes, long dried from the tears, shine in the light of his tent.

"I want to be here with you. No advantages are being taken. Please-" He pleads, begging for you. You bite your lip, and his eyes follow the action. He rushes forward, sliding off the side of the bed and kneels in front of you. He pulls you into a kiss, desperation and need coursing through his blood. You moan against his soft lips, all worries and fears dissipating into the night air. He pulls away from you, panting.

"Those sounds... You're entire being... No magic can compare to your beauty." He whispers, his breath fanning against your lips. You blush under his gaze and words, unable to reply.

"I want to show you my love the way gods do, please let me." He tells you against your lips, kissing you again. Your hands cradle his neck, thumbs trailing up and down the column. You pull away again, shaking your head.

"I don't need magic, or gods. Not when I have you right here infront of me." He pulls away, a deep blush on his face. You notice that it goes down his neck, reaching his chest; as well as the tips of his ears, which are also tinged crimson at your words.

"Are you sure? I can make you feel things, see things.... experience things beyond your wildest imaginations-" You cut him off, pouting.

"You already make me feel those things, Gale. Can't I have the man in front of me? I am no goddess, and you needn't seek my approval. You already have it." He nods, before taking your hands and pushing you forward so you're laying against the floor. His fingers link with yours and pull them above your head. You're panting, breasts heaving and grazing his own chest. His gaze trails from your features down to your neck, then further down to your chest.

"Gods. Seeing you in such a state makes me reconsider if I am truly cursed. You're ambrosial." His face goes to your neck, peppering kisses and licks up and down. You moan again, your arousal climbing higher. Your hips begin to grind the air, praying for solace, pleading for his touch. He bites down on you, blunt teeth tickling your skin. You gasp out, back arching so your bodies are fully touching.

"Please, please Gale." You whimper, eyes closed and lips parted.

"What do you need, my love?" He asks you huskily, still licking and kissing your neck.

"I need you." You wail out, eyes watering from his teasing.

"Not as much as I need you, my sweet." With a wave of his hand, both your clothes dissipate. His eyes wander, admiring your body. Your hands go to his chest, caressing the hair there. For a moment, your fingers hover over the tattoo, before touching it with such gentleness. He exhales at your touch, eyes closing while your hands wander. Your hands go to his shoulders where they caress the tense muscle there. He smiles before opening his eyes, adoration shining in them.

"You are a goddess." You squirm under his words, blushing deeply. His hands start to caress the sides of your torso, going up to your breasts. His thumbs start rubbing against your peaks, the rough texture of his fingers making you whimper. Your hands squeeze his shoulders, as you look at him pleadingly.

"Gale, don't tease me." His eyes glace up to your face, as he lowers himself closer to your chest.

"Don't worry my sweet sorcerer, I'll make sure this night is magical." His lips take in one of your nipples, as he begins to suck and bite. You gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders. As he worships your nipple, his other hand begins to play roughly with the other one. His empty hand waves, and a mage hand appears and takes both your wrists in its mystical grasp, placing them above your head like Gale had done moments before. He moves to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

You whimper under his actions, panting and arching into him. One of his hands trails down to the apex of your thighs, and begins to caress your core. You exhale loudly through your nose as you bite your lip, groaning. He comes off of your chest with a pop! and grins at you.

"My sweet, are you this wet for me? Can't wait to spread you open and taste you for myself-" His hands spread your legs as far as you can go, as he lowers down. You feel his breathe on your core. For a moment, nothing happens, but then he summons two more mage hands to hold your thighs open as he begins to taste you.

His tongue licks the side of your thighs, as he places open mouthed kisses on your hot skin. He does this for a minute, just worshipping your skin, and then he licks up your core. He moans into you as he tastes your slick, eyes closing.

"Ambrosial, just as I suspected-" He opens his eyes and looks at you as you watch him attentively. "I can't wait to taste you until I bring you to other planes of existence." He attacks your pussy with fervor, licking and prodding at you. His ambidextrous tongue works wonders on you, he spreads you open further with his fingers, as he brings his tongue into you. You gasp at the intrusion, hands struggling against the grip of the mage hand, wishing to push him further into you. As he continues to taste you, his concentration wavers and the mage hands dissipate. Your hands latch into his dark curly locks, tugging at him as you continuously plea don't stop. He chuckles into your skin, as he pulls away.

"I won't stop worshipping you until the end of the night, my beloved. I promised you magic, and you'll take it like a good girl." You whimper at his words, slick leaving you. He licks it up from the source, moaning into your skin. As he goes to take your clit into his mouth, two of his thick fingers caress at your entrance before going in to the hilt and curling upwards. You caterwaul at the attention, hands gripping his locks tighter. He licks and sucks at your clit, fingers pistoning in and out of you. You feel your nirvana quickly approaching.

"G-Gale I'm close, so so close. Please-" You beg him, eyes closed. He hums against your clit as he curls his fingers curve upwards. You've hit your peak, back arching into the sky and thighs tightening against his head. You see explosions of colours behind your eyelids, and your body is weightless for many moments. As you come back from your high, you open your eyes to see Gale admiring your face; his fingers lazily pumping into you. You clench around his fingers as you pant, eyes still unfocused.

"O-oh-" You whisper, head hitting the floor as you close your eyes to try to get your bearings. Gale chuckles at you as he removes his fingers from you, tasting your spend on his skin. As your breathing gets back to normal, you open your eyes again to gaze at Gale.

"I want to please you-" He cuts you off, picking you up off the floor with relative ease and depositing you onto the bed.

"If you do that I know I will not be able to please you as long as I'd like." He tells you honestly as he licks his lips. You surge forward, capturing his mouth against yours. You can still taste yourself on his tongue, and it excites you further. Your legs lock around his waist and pull him into you, his cockhead bumping into your clit. You split from each other, admiring one another.

"Take what you want from me, Gale of Waterdeep." He moans at your words, and grasps his cock in his hand.

"You don't know how you affect me, (Y/N). Your words, your scent, your taste. I can't wait to take you and make you mine." As he speaks, he thrusts into you in one quick motion, bottoming out inside of you. You both gasp, the connection unlike any other you had ever experienced in your life.

"Please make me yours Gale. I'll be anything you want, do anything you want. Just make me yours." He begins to thrust into you, his pace rough and deep. He continues to hit that spot, and you feel your orgasm coming again.

"I'm s-so close." You whisper into his ear, kissing the side of his face. He turns and pulls you back into a passionate kiss. He pulls your legs over his shoulders, and you feel his tip kiss your cervix. You gasp against his lips, panting.

"That's right, sweetheart. Let go-" His words bring you to your crest, and you babble as your brain short circuits. As you reach your peak, he does as well, moaning out your name against the column of your neck. His hips stutter to a stop as he releases inside of you, the clenching of your pussy too much for him. He collapses onto you, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings to you. After a moment, you pull him into a gentle kiss, savouring the moment with him.

"You are perfect." He whispers to you as you part. Your hand caresses the side of his face.

"You are the perfect one. I hope I can spend the rest of this journey reminding you." You tell him softly. He closes his eyes, smiling at your words.

"How can I ever consider myself less than when I am in your embrace?" You blush, pulling him into a hug. After a moment, he gets up, getting a cloth to clean your mixed spend from between your thighs. Once he deems you clean, he lays back down next to you. You spend the rest of the night cuddling, hushed words of love and appreciation to one another.

The End.