#And BOY did the author make him RUTHLESS

[brainjuicezz]

Wouldn't it be funny if I made a M3tal S0nic "redesign" based off of V-1? Wouldn't it be funny wouldn't it be silly

[girlsworldillusion]

Summary: Amid the severe consequences of war, Aemond finds himself alone, without the presence and support of his young and sweet wife, who insists on staying away from him, afraid of who he has become. He has been a respectful and patient husband. But tonight he feels like he has finally reached his limit.

Author's note: Please, pay attention to the tags. This story contains sensitive topics, such as: +18, SEX, SEVERE INTERNAL CONFLICT, DUB-CON/NON-CON, POSSESSIVE/OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, EMOTIONAL DEPENDENCY, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP AND MORE.

word count: 6k

There is no specific description of which house the reader belongs to, so feel free to fill this in as you wish.

English is not my native language, forgive me for any spelling mistakes.

Good reading!

He can taste vomit in his esophagus.

Aemond knows it wouldn't be too difficult to get out what little he ate. He coughs as discreetly as he can into the back of his hand before taking off his eye patch, wanting to splash some cold water on his face and throat. He pretends not to notice how his hands are a little shaky as he pulls the gloves off of them, cupping his fingers inside the basin left by the servants on the table. The cool water feels refreshing on his hot skin, and with a satisfied hiss, he looks up, staring directly at the reflection of his own face in the mirror.

The flickering flames of the fire near the wall provide no comprehensive illumination, and he is honestly relieved by that. What little he can see is disturbing enough. His single lilac eye is bloodshot, his silver hair is disheveled, so different from normal. Paleness in the face, sunken cheeks. The subtle glow of the blue stone in his other eye and the deep scars around it only add a dying touch to his ghostly visage.

Another deep tug wracks his stomach and he leans forward, gripping the sides of the table with abandon, preparing to actually throw up this time. But nothing comes, nothing but the painful, nauseating feeling in his body.

He can't forget.

It's all his doing, after all. It's all his fault.

The death of all those people, the desolation of the entire Riverlands. It's all his fault.

Any feeling of greatness and power that previously inhabited his body no longer existed. His superiority and confidence swept away by the tide until he was spat out on the shore with nothing but pain and trauma.

He is a hypocrite and he knows it.

Aemond is not a good person. He doesn't want to fool anyone with his anxiety attack, he definitely doesn't need to take on the role of the poor regretful guy. He doesn't regret what he did, he doesn't regret doing what was absolutely necessary for the good of his family. He could never regret this. And he knows that tomorrow, a week from now, or a month from now, he will do exactly the same thing again if necessary. There are no limits to what he is willing to do to and for those to whom he is loyal.

He can't even dare deny liking it all.

When he's on Vhagar's saddle, with the world in flames just beneath them and the addictive power to decide for good or ill for those poor, hopeless souls, he can swear he's never felt anything better. There's something disturbingly liberating about embracing the monster that resides in his chest. It's surprising to him how good it feels to be ruthless, to take on the role of the uncontrollable beast everyone says he is (rightfully so).

It wasn't always like this. But a series of violent and tragic actions that may or may not have been intentional earned Aemond more than just an ominous codename. They gave him respect; fear. Aemond One-Eye, the son without expectations, the child without any prominence. No more.

He feels ruthless when he is in the skies, dictating the fate of humanity. It gives him power. He is powerful now, he is no longer the boy forgotten by everyone. The feeling of being superior pumps hard through his veins until he goes wild, makes him feel like he's crushing people under the soles of his boots. He is more powerful. Their lives depend solely on the way his hand moves and it turns out that, to their misfortune and terror, his hands are wrapped around the saddle of the largest dragon in the world. It is difficult to be sensible and godly when there is so much power at his command. He is more powerful. There is nothing that can stop him. He feels invincible, unstoppable. He doesn't just enjoy it - he worships this feeling.

At least until it's all over.

When the dust settles and all that is left is the consequence of his actions, it is then that he quietly withers away.

He killed them. All of them. His hands are stained with blood and ash and it's all his fault. He has separated families forever, traumatized so many souls with insurmountable depression and pain and it is all his fault. Adults, elderly, children, babies. All dead. Because of him. Hoarse screams of terror and fear, all begging for a mercy that would never come - could never come. Not by his hands. Not when he had a family and a purpose he was so loyal to.

Aemond worships the sense of power that comes with a reputation for being ruthless and regrets nothing he has done and will do for his duty. Unfortunately, this does not mean that he does not suffer the consequences in equal proportion.

Another sigh. He drops his head and presses his fingers against the edge of the table. He closes his eye so tightly that patches of white light explode into his vision, each labored breath makes him lean forward and clench his teeth. The pain is impossible to ignore – it shakes his insides, leaves his limbs trembling.

"Is this hurting you?" a soft voice asks, a small, fragile thing, almost impossible to hear - if it weren't for the fact that he lives to hear the sound of that voice. He knows this, and so does the owner of the voice, both fully aware of this dangerous dependence. “Pretending to be a God, I mean.”

Aemond feels his heart beat faster, the angelic sound of your voice rescuing him from the merciless depths of his own mind, making him slowly raise his head as he stares at the place where the voice came from. He almost can't believe what he heard. But there you are, sitting on your bed, surrounded by comfortable sheets and pillows, your wide doe eyes catching the moonlight and fire flames in the dark of night, shining like stars.

His sweet wife.

He simply looks at you, not offering any kind of response right away. Not because he doesn't want to. But because he's too surprised to hear your voice and see your face to form words at the moment. Aemond doesn't know how he ended up here, in your private chambers - the place he hasn't been welcome in for some time. He was supposed to go to his chambers. Was he that distraught and distracted? Could the confusion clouding his senses have unconsciously led him directly to the person he needs most at the moment?

He looks around quickly just to confirm that, yes, there is no doubt that he is in your chambers. He didn't intend to do that. He shouldn't be here, invading your privacy and ignoring your request that he keep distance. Of course, his longing and need for you made him consider such a thing countless times. Regardless of your wishes, he was your husband; he had a right to be here. But he never did that. You don't want him in your bed anymore and you've made that clear. And Aemond was not ignorant or even insensitive enough to pretend not to understand your reasons. You had a lot of them and he knows.

You were not made for cruelty. Your innocence and purity made you unable to be aware of the horrible things he did and still treat him the same way as before. You were afraid of him now, just like everyone else. The blood of many was on his hands and you knew it, just as you knew he regretted nothing, and that he would not stop this - not until victory was achieved.

You didn't agree with that, you never did, not even before the marriage. But what could a young woman do in the world they lived in? You were just a piece on a board game, an ace up his sleeve used by your father specifically to provide armies and loyalty to the crown in exchange for a marriage and a more than convenient name for your family.

Aemond knew from the beginning that you didn't want to marry him; how could you after all? You barely knew him beyond the questionable reputation that surrounded him, and a dangerous family clash was about to break out in the kingdom - this was definitely not the right environment for romance to blossom. But you did your duty. You had been an exemplary wife in the short two months of peace that followed your marriage. You treated him with respect and patience, slowly opening your heart to him with each passing day. He wasn't the most talkative or the most sensitive husband and yet you showed empathy for his limitations, accepting what he gave you with gentle smiles and rosy cheeks, without demanding anything more. So sweet. So inocent.

It was no surprise the feeling that welled up in his chest.

Aemond was obsessed before he even realized it. Needing your gentle attentions like a flower needs the sun. He clung to you as his only comfort in an almost bleak existence, he became more and more obsessed with you and you didn't notice. You read with him, walked through the gardens with him and talked to him as you always did, kind and polite. And every day he felt hungrier, pushing the limits of restraint. You welcomed him into your bed every night, welcoming him between your legs as if he belonged there - and he did, indeed. Aemond's appetite for you and you alone knew no bounds.

But he wasn't the man you married anymore, was he?

You fear him now, any and all advances he's made with you over the past few months have vanished into thin air like the ashes he's so used to seeing now. The feelings he was carefully cultivating in your chest now seem to have sunk so deep into your being that he thinks they no longer even exist. You no longer craved his attention; the touch of softness and affection, whenever “husband” dripped from your mouth, was absent. And now all he could do was want.

Aemond doesn't look away from you, not wanting to miss this moment for anything, not after being deprived of it for so long. And you look back at him from where you sit on the bed, chin lifted in false courage. You looks at him with your bright eyes and high cheekbones, which seem even more highlighted in the warm lighting around your bodies.

He may have entered your chambers out of pure unconscious instinct, out of nothing but silent desperation. His body guiding him when his mind no longer could. But now that he's here, he doesn't know how he didn't realize it from the beginning. It's impossible to think about anything other than you. You, you, you.

At this point, deaths at his hands no longer existed. Not his pains or the weights he carries, not revenge, not duty. Anything. Absolutely nothing. There is only this moment, between him, a boy who so wanted to be enough for those he loves and the young girl who is illuminated by the light of the flames.

He feels it. It's not new. That strange impulse that draws all the attention of the environment around him to you and you alone; an almost painful need between his teeth to take a bite and not let go, to have it with all your heart and nothing less.

"Nothing to say?" You press and he's not even embarrassed by the fact that he doesn't remember what you said before. He should leave. It's all he thinks, even as he takes an uncertain step closer to your bed. And that's enough for you to immediately tense up, wrapping your small hands in the sheets to subtly pull them towards you. You are hiding yourself. Hiding yourself from him.

Aemond should leave, continue respecting your limits.

If this had been another night, maybe he would have done it. If the smell of smoke and dragon scales hadn't been trapped in the leather of his war clothes, as well as the dust of ash, then perhaps he could have left. If he couldn't smell the insistent scent of charred bodies and decimated land in his nostrils, taking permanent root in his lungs, perhaps he could respect your innocence.

Not even Aemond knew how on edge he already was. Your refusal of his proximity was just the final push to his downfall.

He adores you. He worships the ground you walk on. He respected your decisions and stayed away much longer than any other husband would have done. And this is how you repay him?

Aemond narrows the only functional eye he has left. You don't react, nothing more than another protective grip on the sheets and a slow swallow of saliva. He wants you so much and the thought enrages him. Why? Why does he feel this way? He desperately wants to punish you for making him feel this way. He wants to punish himself for even thinking about doing this to you.

You left him like this; nothing but a mess. When would you finally accept him for who he is? When would you understand that some cruelties were necessary for the final goal to be achieved? When would you see that everything he did and would do was solely for his family? For you. To keep you safe. When would he be enough?

He grits his teeth and feels his entire body tense with thoughts. He hates it; he hates the way you confuse him and make him feel all these terrible emotions. It makes he feels weak. The temptation of the slightest chance of your affection suffocates his common sense. He feels his hands shaking. He'd been so blinded by the hopeful, innocent vision he constantly saw you through that he fooled himself into thinking he was on your mind as much as you were on his all this time.

"Aemond?" You whisper, sounding more uncertain than before, disturbed by his extended silence as he slowly approaches the bed. He keeps looking at you the whole time, letting you glimpse the flames of fire reflected in the icy sapphire in his eye. He adores you, with every fiber of his being. But the flash of fear that shines in your eyes in response makes him stretch the corner of his lip in a malicious smile. He couldn't help it, there's something sweet and pure about you that makes him constantly waver between wanting to protect you and wanting to destroy you.

You try not to weaken before him, but Aemond immediately notices the way your body is a little trembling when his hand, that same hand that drags the musk of leather and death, passes through the fabric of the sheets, spreading lightning over your legs. You don't stop him, but your eyes flash with a frightened warning, a warning he ignores tonight. His palm flattens against your ribs, daring to caress, to feel the linen of the sheets beneath his fingers, the softness of your flesh beneath it, and you squeak an off-key sound, pulling the cocoon of blankets and furs up to hide you.

A small annoyed growl leaves his lips and his other hand quickly covers yours, stopping you from continuing.

"No. Enough of that." He says in a low but firm tone, looking sternly into your eyes. You part your lips, surprised by his behavior, and try to pull the hand still trapped by his, but he doesn't let you go. "That's enough, wife."

He thinks you might try to deny it, but you fall silent, slowly relaxing against his grip on your hand. Aemond wants to purr at this, wants to praise you and spoil you, because you are so good, so good. His good girl. Even when you're crushing his heart between your delicate hands.

It's not your fault, he tells himself. It's not your fault that he's obsessed with you, driven crazy by the idea of you. Aemond can't even focus properly, even when you're in front of him, defenseless and at the mercy of his whims. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest from pure ecstasy and excitement at the same time. And he can feel, on top of it all, the blood flowing to his hard cock, making it swell beneath his black riding pants. He feels embarrassed by his actions, but at the same time excited, just by the little things you do, by everything you are to him.

“Something is wrong with me...” He says, more to himself than to you, gently pushing a strand of your soft hair behind your ear, sliding his thumb in a gentle caress across your delicate earlobe. “You're in my house. You're in my house and I don't want you to leave. Never." He approaches your face, sliding his fingers from your ear to the side of your face, until he holds your small chin between his thumb and forefinger. "I need you." He continues, ignoring how honest and frank he looks - weak. “I keep thinking of ways to make this happen,” the more he talks, the faster you breathe, sweet little sighs near his lips, calling to him like a siren’s song… “I want to ruin you. Because I think that's the only way you won't leave me."

The intensity of his words scares you, he realizes, he sees how your eyes fill with tears and your eyebrows twitch. But even in the dim lighting of the flames, he can see how the tops of your cheeks turn red, how your chest trembles with the breath that catches there...you want him.

It's a shame you're so willing to keep him away.

But he can't stop.

Aemond closes the distance in an instant, pushing you down until he traps your body beneath his, feeling the contours of your soft, supple curves against him; he shudders. He caresses your face one last time before moving down, ignoring your hesitation and your useless efforts to push him away. Quick as a viper, he grabs the hand that moves to push against his chest, wrapping it with the other still attached to his, holding your wrists tightly above your head.

You cry out at the pressure on his wrists, the long lashes over your eyes fluttering, pleading. "A-Aemond, what are you doing?" you stutter. "Please, please... I said I needed it - please give me some more-"

"Time? Oh yes, you said it." He hums thoughtfully, placing a thigh between your legs, dipping his face into the crook of your neck to breathe in the fresh fragrance of your shower, snoring contentedly with your naturally sweet scent. Intoxicated by your scent, he trails his lips along the slender column of your neck before stopping at the shell of your ear. “I’m so sorry, dear, I’ve waited too long. We’ve both waited too long.” He intones, intoxicated by your presence. You sob once but don't say anything else, choosing to turn your face away from him. Aemond snorts a laugh at that, but doesn't stop you, preferring to leave a tender, wet kiss on your cheek.

Squeezing your wrists with one hand, he allows the other to slide slowly down your body, almost reverentially. He paused at the delicate laces holding the front of your nightdress before untying them with deft fingers. The front opens, exposing your silky, flushed skin to his hungry gaze. He doesn't have the patience to remove the fabric completely from your body, so he just lowers it enough so that your breasts are exposed. He bites his lip, holding a curse between his clenched teeth. When he presses his bare palm to your perky breasts, he tastes your trembling innocence, your soft flesh.

So beautiful.

So pure.

From the beginning you were his opposite, your delicate hands, as irritatingly clean as his are stained with blood and ash.

As much as he truly suffers from the consequences of his actions, he never regrets them, because he knows they are right - necessary. There was only the future to shape, the past should stay where it belongs; behind him. Something he had learned through much pain, but unfortunately, his sweet wife had not yet. But as he runs his greedy fingers down your body, feeling the goosebumps on your soft skin with each touch, Aemond knows he scares you as much as he excites you. You can't hide it from him. Your obviously involuntary response to him only makes him fiercer, hungrier. He wants to ruin you from the inside, until you can't bear to live a single day without his touch.

He allows you to continue your theatrics, still stubbornly staring at the wall while pretending his actions don't affect you. There's something almost too tempting about it, in fact; It's a matter of honor for him. He will break your masks and he will take pleasure in doing so.

Letting his fingers slide down your sides, Aemond's lips wander. He kisses the hole in your throat, moving down with wet, licked breaths to your breasts, tasting you. You gasp softly and grip tight fists on the bed sheets when he captures a soft nipple with a slow suck of lips and a teasing scrape of teeth, your body curling beneath him tightly. He smiles with your nipple still between his lips, leaving wide, warm trails of his tongue on the little perky bud. His hips slide against the inside of your parted thighs, pushing the hardened bulge in his pants against your pussy once.

You bite your lip and close your eyes, but he doesn't stop. With another thrust he uses his strength to push you back onto the bed, the bed you shared many nights with him, to fuck you into the warm sheets. It's almost too much for him to finally feel your little pussy once again, even through the leather of his pants and your delicate nightwear. But he continues with slow, strong thrusts, rubbing his cock against you in a way that teases your clit, the smell and heat of his effort wafting throughout his body; sweat, dragon, fire, ash, blood, death - all mixed together, merging with your own sweet, intoxicating scent and, of course, the unmistakable scent of sex.

Before the chaos broke out, Aemond was quite skilled at this, at driving you crazy. A part of him is extraordinarily pleased to find that he still remembers correctly, especially when a press of his fingers and a twirl of his thumb on your slobbery nipple makes you gasp. He wants to see you, to see you blush and sweat, looking ruined for him. Gods, oh yes, Aemond wants this so much. He can't stop, he can never stop, especially with you singing so sweetly to him. When you arch into his touch and whisper his name softly, like a secret no one can discover, his breath hitching. Aemond can't stop.

A specific thrust makes you let out a high-pitched meow, your hands pulling at the linen on the sheets and he moans along, releasing your breast with a wet pop to look at your face. You have your lips parted, your long eyelashes touching the top of your cheeks, your eyebrows furrowed in sweet agony. He thrusts a little faster, rubbing your clit with more pressure, taking in your presence and the feeling of your tiny, supple body, preening at every sound that leaves your lips.

Sounds so sweet, so beautiful; he considers himself a sinner with the way something so innocent and angelic makes his blood boil and his cock throb with need inside his pants, surely soaking the fabric with the way he feels himself leaking.

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me, baby...”

And yet, he doesn't think he cares about dying by your hands when things turn out like this. He is admitting defeat without any embarrassment now; he can bear the dull weight of war, he can bear his own mind trying to destroy him at every turn, he can bear the betrayal of his own family and the demands of his duties. He can bear with anything.

Anything except being without you.

With an impatient grunt, his fingers tug at the soft skirt of your nightdress, bunching the thing at your waist as he rips your underwear down your legs. You don't try to stop him, but you don't try to help him either, remaining almost motionless against the bed, and he feels like he can growling at you like an animal for that - stubborn girl. He hates and loves this about you in equal intensity. He's almost rough and punishing as he hooks the back of your knee into the inside of his elbow, pushing your leg up to your breasts. And then you're giving up your fight, sighing - all anxious expression, furrowing your eyebrows and biting your lip as he hurriedly unzips his pants and pulls them down just enough to pull his cock out, slamming the wet, throbbing head over your clit before sliding his entire length along your folds.

You moan, he moans. The slide is wet and he can't tell if it's all you, if it's all him, if it's all both. He doesn't care, honestly. All that matters is how his cock is thrusting into your heat, hitting your clit with luscious pokes, coaxing more of those sweet sounds from your pretty lips.

He hooks your other leg in the crook of his elbow and does exactly what he did with the other, trapping you between him and the bed in a position where your entire pussy is presented to him. With his hands flat beside your head, he brings his face closer to yours, the leather covering his chest pushing your knees further into your breasts. You moan through your teeth, unable to do anything but tighten your hands around his shoulders. He smiles slowly, drunk on the sensations, still gently sliding the length of his cock into your folds.

Aemond doesn't look away from you, enchanted by the way you dance between looking at the sapphire stone and the deep lilac of his functional eye. You've always done this, he thinks - saying one was as beautiful as the other, impossible to choose.

“I’m giving myself to you, love…I’m yours.” He whispers softly, husky, needy to you. "Will you do the same from now on?"

He’s so close he feel how your heart races violently at his words, slamming against your ribcage as you take a deep breath. Every expression on your flushed face makes him sure you're going to have an intense crying fit, but even when the liquid in your eyes pours down the side of your eyes, you keep yourself almost in one piece. You look deeply into his eye as your shoulders shake. "Y-yes." You exhale, fragile. “Yes, yes, yes,” your voice sings repeatedly, with quick, confused nods, tears streaming from your eyes.

He can't hold back the husky sound that leaves his lips, his cock pulsing in reaction to your obvious fragility exposed to him.

"Yeah?" He asks breathlessly and it's very slow - as he thrusts inside you, thrusting his hips back and forth once, twice, three times until your pussy swallows as much of his cock as it can, until the tip of his hip bones rub it against your thighs. And it's so intense, so obscene – the position he puts you in, the full weight of his body pinning you to the bed, broad shoulders hiding you from view, silver hair like a curtain around the two of you, your mouth falling open in a silent scream and his releasing small curses between clenched teeth... debauchery.

You give his shoulders a few desperate slaps as he fills you, your tight ring of muscle stretched to accommodate his girth, and no matter how long it takes him to prepare you, no matter how wet you are, he knows there's always that initial pain that rips through your groin as he pushes into you. It makes you sway beneath him, little tearful sobs that are like the sweetest song to him.

Another curse muttered in deep Valyrian was his only warning as his palms sink into the softness of the bed. Your own hands looking desperate too, one tangled in the silver base of his hair at the back of his neck and the other gripping the material of his leather shirt, a strangled moan catching in your throat as he begins to fuck you slowly. You can only hold on as he pulls and pushes his body above you with each deep thrust, his impatience shown only in the forceful and violent way in which his hands grip the bed sheets.

He leans into you a little more, moving his hips in different ways, testing the angles until he makes more of those tears well up in your eyes as your pleasure increases almost painfully. Your moans quickly turn into babbling when a particularly strong movement of his hips makes you shake all over. The way your tight pussy tries to contain him and suck him in at the same time drives him crazy, feral.

He won't last long. He already knew this before it even started, but now, feeling your walls squeezing the life out of him after so long deprived of it, with your cute little noises getting louder and louder, with your expression drunk with lust and sadness, the buzz of battle still vibrating through his veins... Aemond feels release approaching shamefully fast for him.

He'll make it up to you later, Aemond promises himself. When the hot need subsides at least a little in his system, he'll take off his dirty war clothes, maybe ask you to take a shower with him. He'll soap your body and tease you until you're riding his cock in the tub at your own pace, his fingers rolling your little clit with each bounce of your hips. He will lay you on the bed and love every inch of your soft body, worship your skin with kisses and hickeys. He will part your thighs and bury his fingers and tongue in your wet softness. He will rip orgasm after orgasm out of you until you are hoarse from screaming, until your body is physically unable to continue.

He will do it all.

He has done it in the past, many times.

Now, however, all he needs is to find his release, to unload those months of forced distance inside his trembling body. But Aemond will be damned if he doesn't bring you along with him.

He leans down to press his forehead against yours, pushing your legs against your body further, lips parting with hoarse, breathless moans that escaped him with each thrust and the sweet pleas you murmured incoherently. The movement of his hips quickens, one hand leaving its blunt grip on the sheets to squeeze between your thighs, poking your clit in tight circles, his cock hitting a spot inside your walls that makes you shiver and tremble in anticipation.

“Aemond…” you cry, digging your nails into the back of his neck, pulling his body towards yours, as if you weren’t already physically as close as possible.

He growls at your plea.

“My little, innocent wife,” Aemond giggles wildly as your pussy clamps down on his length again, your climax approaching, his thumb rotating a steady rhythm on your clit. If only your mind was clear enough to form a coherent thought, maybe you'd complain that the rhythm of his cock in your pussy would be painful, that the continuous and harsh scratching of his clothes hurts the soft and delicate flesh of your body, but you don't say anything, not now. You just accept what he gives you. And he knows you missed him as much as he missed you. “Always so good to me baby.”

Aemond watches you intently, unable to look away from the pleasure that shows on your face. You're shaking, lost in your wet breaths and high-pitched, broken cries, your legs trapped between his body, welcoming him. You're tight and small, his sweet wife, and Aemond can feel your cracks stretching, a spider's web of fractured thought and temptation too much for anyone to bear, and as much as he knows it's impossible, he wants this moment to last forever. Aemond is undone. A fool in love. And it's sad. And it's beautiful. It's being at home.

"Mine." His murmur echoes next to your lips, both of you breathing each other's breath, his rhythm starting to falter, the searing heat rushing through his body beneath those layers of heavy clothing makes him dizzy, but he doesn't stop, he doesn't stop. “So pure, so beautiful, so delicate…” he caresses your clit without faltering with a rumbling purr as his cock swells inside you. “Ngh...oh fuck, so tight. You're going to get everything, aren't you, darling? All of me.” His own teeth graze your neck as you arch and scream in pleasure. “Be a good girl and don't let anything leak, hmmm…”

He fucks you roughly, your name dancing on his lips like a prayer in the dark. Aemond savors this moment with the veneration it deserves, the final chase. The two of you so broken, so vulnerable, shaking with pleasure for each other. He rubs your pussy, hips slamming into you at lightning speed.

And finally, gods yes, it finally happens.

"Aemond! A-Aemond, please! Please-" You throw your head back, your lewd pleas turning into a broken scream as you explode around him. Your face is flushed and glistening with a subtle sheen of sweat, tears streaming down. It's all he can take. You convulse and break and the sensation of his cock swelling with the resulting explosions of hot cum filling you follows shortly after. As your body and pussy tremble and clench, he finally releases his own pleasure, biting down hard on your shoulder to muffle his husky moans, spilling himself deep inside you, the continuous spasms of your orgasm milking every drop from him. You and he cum together, and even in the hazy haze of climax, he thinks he's never experienced something so sublime, so perfect.

You're both shaking as you come down from the waves of mutual pleasure, and Aemond is especially careful now, gently unfolding your legs from that tight position to allow you to stretch them, which earns him a long, grateful, relieved moan. He slowly pulls away until he's kneeling between your thighs, watching raptly as you bite your lip as his cock leaves your heat. A tight grip circles around your parted thighs, lifting them up a little to expose your dripping pussy. He looks almost in awe as he watches his seed flow steadily from your abused pussy.

But Aemond is selfish and his cum doesn't belong on the crumpled, sweaty sheets. No, he told you to keep it safe inside you and that's what would happen. His fingers slip into the wet mess of cum in your folds, pushing as gently as he can all the thick liquid inside you again.

You're too tired to react, but you still sob softly at the sensation, subtly squirming on the bed, legs shaking from being held in the same position for so long. He looks at you, icy lilac gaze half-lidded with lust, blue stone glowing in the flames of the fire. He looks at the soft, creamy flesh of your sweaty body. He longs to see dark spots and bite marks, a way of proving that you belong to him. He lifts his head, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh, just above your left breast. His teeth leave crescent moons on your skin and you scream loudly at the stinging sensation, but you don't stop him. He walks away, admiring the constellations he had traced on your skin. Painting you for him, marking you as something unique to him.

You sniffle and blink wet eyelashes at him. He kisses his bite, murmuring gentle words to you, his lips trailing up with soft sucks and wet kisses in your throat until he brushes against your lips. And it's then, and only then, that he realizes he hasn't kissed you yet. He doesn't know why he didn't do it, given that it's probably the thing he misses most about you. Feeling the softness of your lips on his, the gradual way a small, innocent kiss quickly evolves into something more urgent, the way you immediately struggle to keep up with his pace, his hunger as he swallows your cute sighs and your ragged breaths as he suck your tongue.

Yes. This is what Aemond longs for. How easily he could make you fall apart in his hands.

Taking into account the way that you blush and look down at his lips, you're thinking the same thing. He smiles mischievously, slowly leaning in for a deep kiss, fingers damp with your juices and his cum resting on your jawline. Your little hands sink into his hair until you lightly scrapes your nails across his scalp, making Aemond shudder. The fingers of his other hand cup your hip, tracing the line of the bone in gentle patterns. His nose bumps yours as his tongue dances in your hot mouth, spreading in you the taste of smoke and revenge that seems to follow him at absolutely every moment now. And like his perfect antithesis, you gasp, let him savor your sweet, fruity flavor - so fuckin sweet.

Your legs circle his waist, making him press against your heat, quickly reigniting the flame of need within him. You lick it off his tongue, moan when he sucks your bottom lip and bites it, you beg between quick breaths and Aemond continues to rub himself against you, the kiss becoming sloppier, driving him crazy with how irresistible you are in this state. You give yourself completely to Aemond, without asking questions or making new complaints, and it drives him crazy.

"You are mine. Only mine. And you will never leave me again, do you understand?" He murmurs as he pulls away, both of you panting, looking seriously into your water-bright eyes, noting how they're a little wide and your mouth is swollen and wet from his kisses.

A few tears slide down your face, but you smile shakily at him, the hand in his hair stroking the silver strands lovingly.

"I am yours, Aem. Now and forever." Honesty bleeds into your shallow voice, your little fingers on your other hand tentatively tangling with the buckles of his shirt to open it.

Aemond rests his forehead against yours and truly smiles for the first time in a long, long time. Not a malicious, mocking or condescending smile... No, this time his lips are stretched into a small, but genuine, honest smile.

And it's because of you.

Because he knows he got what he wanted so much. He has you again. He was resilient, he was patient and he was fair. He fought and, with his efforts, created a space just for himself within your heart. He knows you're still unhappy with everything that's going on, and no matter how much he wants to, he can't change that. He can only strengthen you to bear it. It can only burrow deeper into your body and your heart until you are able to forget the atrocities that are happening around you - the horrible things that he is doing. It's a gaping hole in your chest that leaves you continually bleeding, he knows, but the exposed cut is so sweet, and here he is, licking the wound like an animal, with all the violent, relentless gentleness he has to offer as the vengeful prince that he is.

He wraps his arms around you, pushing his cock back into your abused pussy in a deep movement that draws a broken sound from both of you, pulling you against his chest. He rubs his sweaty face against your throat, your face, your hair. His voice syrupy and thick as he whispers, "I love you."

Fuck. Aemond would never let you go.

[lilirari]

🧋 everyone thinks pedri should stop pining for you because you 'don't give a f*ck' about him but they don't know what your actual relationship with the footballer is.

💌 pedri gonzález x fem! joao felix's bff! reader (social media au)

🌟 cw : pedri being a total simp, cheesy pick-up lines, translated spanish & portuguese sentences, timelines don't matter

💭 author's note : this is for my beloved pookie @leclercloml ! ilysm <3 idk if the ending parts make sense but please just bear with it 😞

instagram 🎥

yourinstagram

📍 new york city, usa

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, jennaortega and 13,193,299 others

yourinstagram the wind was a paid actor

view all 17,929 comments

pedri 😍😍😍

pedri eres la chica más hermosa que he visto en mi vida.

pedri i ought to complain to spotify for you not being named this week's hottest single

-> spotify complaint received 😉

-> user59 oh spotify's definitely on the pedri x y/n agenda

pedri do you happen to have a band-aid ? i just scrapped my knees falling for you

-> yourinstagram deserved fall down again

-> user80 HELPDHSHDHSHDH WHY IS SHE LIKE THIS

-> user44 poor pedri but this is kind of funny 😭

jennaortega my favourite girl (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)

mikkykiemeney 🫶🫶🫶

saraguendogan gorgeous !!!

user45 the way two of the most popular barça wags are in her comments.. joão really must've introduced her to everyone in barça by now 😭

joaofelix79 minha linda melhor amiga 🥰

-> yourinstagram te amo joao 🫶

user33 babe wake up pedrizz gonzález is in the comments of y/n's post again

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yourinstagram

📍 ibiza

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, ferrantorres and 15,364,748 others

yourinstagram i love pink <3

view all 20,273 comments

pedri and i love you 🥰😘

-> yourinstagram ew

pedri ¿dónde has estado toda mi vida? 😍

pedri if beauty was a crime, you would've been sentenced for life in prison

-> user11 omg this is actually so good y/n please accept his love 😞

emmamyers 🩷🩷🩷

ferrantorres ❤️

liked by yourinstagram

joaofelix79 my prettiest girl 🫶

-> yourinstagram joao best boy !!!

user34 pedri should just stop trying to win y/n's heart man she clearly has no interest in him he's just wasting his time..

user50 i want a friendship like y/n and joão's 🥹

user96 is something going on between y/n and ferran ?? 🤔

user23 wait i'm a new barça fan and i came from x after seeing a post about pedri commenting on this girl's post.. who is she exactly ?

-> user22 she's y/n l/n, an upcoming model and also the bff of joão félix ! ^^

-> user23 ooh she's so pretty i get why pedri wants her lol

user82 huh ?? wasn't y/n in new york like literally yesterday ? how is she already in ibiza 😭

-> user25 queen's working so hard fr 😞

user75 pedrito i know you'll get the girl of your dreams someday i'm rooting for you !!!

liked by pedri

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yourinstagram

📍 lisbon, portugal

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, frenkiedejong and 20,182,838 others

tagged mikkykiemeney, saraguendogan, annalewandowska, taia_belloli, joaofelix79

yourinstagram on a trip with my girls (there's an imposter among us)

view all 25,999 comments

pedri quisiera ser joyero para poder apreciar un diamante como tú todos los días 🤍

-> yourinstagram bro please stop before i block you 🧍‍♀️

-> user77 pedri i think you should listen to her y/n can be absolutely ruthless 😭

pedri ok but why did joão get invited and i didn't ?

-> yourinstagram bc you're not one of the girls ???

-> pedri and joão is ??

-> yourinstagram yeah !!! ☺️

-> joaofelix79 i was forced to tag along against my own will, hermano 😞

mikkykiemeney had so much fun with you, love ! 🫶

annalewandowska thanks for inviting me, angel ❤️

joaofelix79 who's the best tour guide & chauffeur ??

-> yourinstagram you are !! 🥰🥰 thanks for making this trip fun and memorable, amor 🫶

-> joaofelix79 yeah yeah i accept thanks only in cash and credit

saraguendogan 💋💋

taia_belloli mi novia 🥰

user23 AHHH Y/N WITH THE BARÇA WAGS

user81 OMG THOSE POOL PICTURES OF Y/N AND SARA ARE SO PRETTY

user43 wait does this mean y/n is a barça wag ?

-> user19 i don't think so but i also won't be surprised if she's dating one of the guys

-> user01 nah, i think she just got really close with the wags because of félix

user99 MOTHER IS MOTHERING !!!

user45 MY WIVES 💅

user55 can pedri please just give up on pursuing y/n.. she's CLEARLY not interested in you bro

-> pedri 🙉

-> user39 shut up man he clearly doesn't give a fuck about what people like you are saying

user26 no bc are we sure joão and y/n are not dating ?

-> user34 yep pretty sure

-> user84 they sure are sus for two best friends who call each other 'amor' and say 'ily' to e/o all the time

-> user07 i'm sure it's just in a platonic way, man

-> user02 what ? can't two people of the opposite gender say ily and still be only friends ? this is just a healthy friendship bro

user43 y/n please notice pedri and treat him properly challenge 😞🙏

user46 AHHH i hope joão showed them all the best places in lisbon ❤️🇵🇹

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yourinstagram

📍 paris, france

🎼 my love mine all mine : mitski

liked by joaofelix79, oliviarodrigo, gigihadid and 33,127,289 others

yourinstagram bts for the photoshoot of a new magazine cover for vogue ! oh, and i got some flowers today ;) 💐

view all 42,569 comments

joaofelix79 nice flowers

joaofelix79 who's that man though 👀

-> yourinstagram idk you tell me 🫣

jennaortega already omw to pre-order 1000 copies of the magazine

-> yourinstagram please i love you 😭🫶

gigihadid perfection 🫶

-> yourinstagram love u gigi

heidiklum 🤍🖤

konichan7 🥰

adrianalima xoxo 💋

_ferminlopez 🤭

-> user77 ariana what are you doing here

user34 some of the biggest names in the modelling industry are here in the comments... y/n really has come so far i'm so proud of you girl 🥹

user27 here for y/n's famous era !!!

user97 our prettiest princess !!! we love you y/n 💌

user36 SIS IS THAT A MAN I SEE BEHIND YOU 😧

user05 don't be shy y/n show us a picture of the man in the second slide

user72 the song... the picture... the flowers... HAVE WE LOST Y/N TO A MAN ???

user55 um guys where's pedri ?

-> user78 EXACTLY WHAT I WAS THINKING

-> user40 WHERE'S OUR GOLDEN BOY AND HIS SHITTY PICK-UP LINES

user95 pedri's @ is not there in the likes...

user33 no cringey pick-up line comments from pedri and he's not in the likes either.. what's happening..

user67 i'm guessing that man must be her bf ??

user15 well ig at least we all know that the man with her is not pedri since he's nowhere to be found 🤷‍♀️

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yourinstagram

📍 barcelona, spain

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, louispartridge_ and 40,932,389 others

yourinstagram hi barcelona

view all 45,693 comments

joaofelix79 what are you doing here

-> yourinstagram came to visit you bestie 🥰🥰🥰 i missed you sooooo much

-> joaofelix79 what a liar 🙄

oliviarodrigo love u girlie

alejandrobalde 🤍

liked by yourinstagram

taia_belloli you are glowing, sis !!!

jennierubyjane pretty in white ♡

alexiaputellas 💓💘

user13 my sunshine !!! 💛☀️

user04 what's balde doing here 😧

user82 BALDE ??? HELLO ????

user75 pedri in the likes but still no comment...

user16 what is happening with y/n and the barça boys

user30 damn i kinda miss pedri's comments 😭

user27 has pedri finally stopped trying to rizz y/n up ??

-> user08 i hope so.. he doesn't deserve her she seems so annoying

-> user89 how exactly is she annoying ??

-> user08 she's always dismissing/ignoring his comments and being mean to him what a bitch

-> user89 i don't think she's actually being mean though.. and if he isn't bothered by the way she acts then why are you ?

-> user75 please stop calling y/n names and trying to make her a villain she's an absolute angel

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, jennaortega and others

user66 the way we see different barça players comment on her post everyday 🧍‍♀️ guess today's man of the day is balde

user05 THAT DRESS IS GORG SIS

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yourinstagram 10 minutes ago | pedri 2 minutes ago

seen by joaofelix79, pablogavi, frenkiedejong and 17,929,199 others

y/n's dms 🏷️

☆ joaofelix79 replied to your story !

husband ??? 😰😱

yourinstagram

yuh

☆ user56 replied to your story !

HUSBAND ???? QUEEN WHO ???

☆ user69 replied to your story !

please tell me that's just a beyonce reference and you don't actually have a husband.. 🥹

twitter 🫖

imessage 💬

mi esposa 💌

i think it's time

mi esposo ❤️‍🩹

wait really ? are you sure about this ?

mi esposa 💌

yeah 100% sure i'm ready

mi esposo ❤️‍🩹

alright then

mi esposa 💌

it's been a good run, hasn't it ?

mi esposo ❤️‍🩹

it sure has...

3 years ain't that bad

mi esposa 💌

frfr !!

we're a bit too good at this 🤭

mi esposo ❤️‍🩹

i second that

mi esposa 💌

i'll drop a head's up now

see you on the other side 🫡

mi esposo ❤️‍🩹

let's go give the world a shock, mi amor 🫶

twitter 🫖

instagram 🎥

yourinstagram

📍 tenerife, canary islands

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, jennaortega and 50,199,143 others

tagged pedri

yourinstagram i'm guessing this wasn't the type of news y'all were expecting, huh ? jokes on all of you bc pedrito and i have actually been together for three years now. we were just a bit too good at hiding our relationship 🤭 anyways happy three years together, mi amor, and also happy 6 months of our marriage ! te amare por siempre, my golden boy 🤍

view all 60,000 comments

pedri my gorgeous girl

pedri te amo, mi vida 🫶

liked by yourinstagram

pedri te voy a denunciar a la policía por robarme el corazón

-> yourinstagram oh no ! i can't be behind bars now — i've got my whole life ahead of me ! 😰

joaofelix79 ahh finally !!! keeping your relationship a secret was probably the hardest thing i ever had to do in my entire life

-> yourinstagram you're the absolute best joão thank you 🫶

-> joaofelix79 as i've said before, i accept thanks in only cash and credit

-> yourinstagram sending you some money rn

-> joaofelix79 😁😁😁

jennaortega my favourite couple !!!

-> yourinstagram my maid of honour 🥹🫶

pablogavi ❤️

gigihadid still in awe over this look of yours you really are the prettiest bride

mikkykiemeney 😍😍😍

annalewandowska my babies 🥹🥹

fcbarcelona the best couple 🫶

ferrantorres ❤‍🔥

user81 .... girl what

user90 WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUVK

user12 three years... THREE YEARS ?????

user04 not only have you been together for three years but URE FRICKING MARRIED ????

user24 HOW TF DID NO ONE KNOW ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP

user46 HUHHHHHHHHHHH 😧😧😧😧😧😧

user57 we are all fvcking clowns

user68 another day of blaugrana being an entire circus

user38 THREE YEARS ???? but félix joined barça only this year.. huh how did you guys meet i'm confused

-> yourinstagram pedri and i have actually known each other for a long time now 😭 most of you may just know me as joão's bff but only some people know that i'm friends with pedri's brother hehe so we got to know each other through fernando :)

user72 HOW DID YOU GUYS HID YOUR RELATIONSHIP FROM US FOR THREE HECKING YEARS ? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE ?????

user01 HOW DID THE MEDIA AND PAPARAZZI NOT CATCH YOU WHAT

user07 goodness idek how to react to this

user29 wait so you were just pretending to hate pedri in your previous posts... but why ?

-> yourinstagram oh it was just a bet we made when joão joined barça this year. most of you knew me only when joão joined barça and pedri and i had already been working on our marriage plans by then. we've hid the facts about our relationship for three years now but marriage is a huge thing and there was no way we could hide our wedding for years so we just wanted to see how long it would take for the paparazzi to catch up on the news lol. to help hide our marriage a little longer, we just pulled an unrequited love act on my instagram posts and i pretended to ignore him irl too for fun 🤭

-> user57 this is absolutely insane... you guys are geniuses

-> user80 OKAY BUT WHO WON THE BET THOUGH ???

-> yourinstagram technically no one since we both thought the news wouldn't get out until next year but we're spending our honeymoon in barcelona rn and we just got a bit too bold in public and sadly got caught 😞

yourinstagram ok correction you guys we never really hid our rs tbh i guess you guys just never knew me or like paid much attention to things so it just got really easy to date him without having to deal with the media 🤷‍♀️

-> user03 now that i think about it... i feel like you've appeared in a few of the gonzález family photos, y/n 🤔

-> yourinstagram yes i have ! but if i remember correctly, most people just thought i was fernando's gf or sumn 😭

-> user99 omg we were so fucking blind 🧍‍♀️

-> user67 well we just never expected pedri to have enough rizz to pull a beauty queen like you ig

-> pedri HEY

-> yourinstagram LMAO FOULLLLLL

user44 i love how y/n just spilled the whole tea to us 🥹 she's so iconic

user12 GOD I LOVE Y/N SO MUCH FOR THIS LITTLE STORYTIME UNDER THE COMMENTS

user06 THEY'RE SO FUCKING ADORABLE I LOVE YNPEDRI

user55 SUCH A BEAUTIFUL WEDDING DRESS 🤍

user21 what is with joão and money though LMAO

-> joaofelix79 if barça doesn't have enough money to buy me, then i'll provide them the money instead

-> user02 I'M IN TEARS THIS IS SO ICONIC OF YOU JOÃO

-> user74 LMFAO WHAT A LEGEND

user23 PEDRI IN THAT FOURTH SLIDE DAYUMMMM

user16 i hate you both so much for lying to us for so long but also congratulations on getting married !!! 🥹

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pedri

liked by yourinstagram, pablogavi, _rl9 and 69,239,839 others

tagged yourinstagram

pedri feliz aniversario, mi vida 🤍

comments on this post have been limited

twitter 🫖

♡ translations of pedri's pick-up lines !

“eres la chica más hermosa que he visto en mi vida.”

: you are the most beautiful girl i have ever seen in my life.

“¿dónde has estado toda mi vida?”

: where have you been all my life ?

“quisiera ser joyero para poder apreciar un diamante como tú todos los días.”

: i would like to be a jeweler so i can appreciate a diamond like you every day.

“te voy a denunciar a la policía por robarme el corazón.”

: i will report you to the police for stealing my heart.

© LILIRARI, 2023 ★

[lure-of-writing]

Never been good enough

Authors note: I haven't written in forever so please forgive me if this isn't the best but I would love to hear what you think!

Summary: You would never be good enough for Ariel

Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: Arguing, curse words, mentions of death, Elain slander, Tamlin makes an appearance

Part two: Left in regret

Part three: Why can't We?

There was always something so enticing about Azriel that you could never put your finger on. To simply put it he was fascinating. Being a part of the inner circle for as long as you have meant that you put your feelings for him aside, did what you thought was best for the group. Not only that but Azriel never gave you any signs that he was interested in you and there was no way you would let him know about your feelings. What if you guys dated and it didn't work out? Or worse, what if you told him and he didn’t feel the same way? These types of thoughts made a home in your head and they made it a point to consistently remind you that Azriel would only ever be a friend. But hey, better a friend then nothing at all, Right?

That was until Rhysand met Feyre and in turn met Nesta and Elain. This is where your downfall began. You were truly happy for your high lord and new high lady but could have done without her sisters. Nesta was always ready to pick a fight and tear you down with her words as if she were some wild animal backed into a corner that would bite if you tried to pet it. The comparison wasn’t far off, she basically was a wild animal. Elain on the other hand was, well, contemptible at best. From what you knew Elain was basically loved by all in the inner circle but you. There was just something about her that irked you to your core. In a world that praised the strong and belittled the weak, her innocence bothered you. Why did Feyre have to do everything for her sisters, especially the middle one? As an older sister yourself you would have made any sacrifice necessary to protect your little sister. In fact you did. Maybe that's why you resented the middle sister. 

Before the new additions were made to your family life was perfect, before under the mountain of course, the group was a perfectly balanced number and each person had their person. Rys with Armen, Mor and Cassian, you and Azriel. The group would spend long days giving each other a run for their money with stupid bets and at night you would have an even longer night getting drunk at ritas, but ever since Ryhsand met Feyre things changed almost instantly. It was like the people you once knew completely changed over night. You still knew who they were to their core but you didn’t recognize who they had become. 

Cassian bowed to an unwavering, impolite, ungrateful human turned fae also known as Nesta, he was willing to die for someone who would never give the time of day to even acknowledge that he existed. Amren found company in her ruthlessness, found friendship and understanding in her unbothered face. 

Mor found sisterhood among the complexities of healing with Feyre, through the grief and joy and thousands of other emotions one feels when finding themselves after trauma.

Ryhsand found his mate, the one he never thought he would meet. The one he was willing to die for as long as that meant she was safe.  

Azriel saw the need to protect someone as delicate as Elain. So he did. 

And you, you found a changed group of people before your very own eyes. 

“Azriel can I please hold the fancy special dagger?” the Shadowsinger simply stares at you from the other side of the ring. Today had been training day for everyone excluding Amren, if you asked her she would say it didn’t pertain to her, and while the boys took turns sparring you were teaching Mor a new fighting technique you learned recently. “No” the short answer was no surprise to you at all. “Why not? I even said please and I never say please” the inner circle could not wait to witness this scene unfold for this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence but considering that you were Azriels favorite amongst the group even if he refused to say it, they thought that maybe one day you would wear him down enough to the point where he lets you hold the truth teller. “y/n I have never let anyone hold that dagger and you will not be the first. You are more than capable of handling yourself without my blade.” “Exactly I am more than capable of handling a dagger Azriel. One day I will get the truth teller in my hands just you wait.” he simply raised his shoulders in a shrugging manner as if to say “yeah I’m not concerned”

To say you were surprised that Azriel gave Elain the truth teller would be an understatement but honestly you should of seen it coming. Not even a few days before he was rushing into the hybern camp to save Elain without any second thought. There was never a time in the five hundred years where Azriel threw himself into a situation like that where he didn’t at least take some time to plan everything out. As a spy yourself you knew that at least having a fraction of a plan could save your life but it appeared Arizel was willing to die to save her. Feyre's sister be damned. So to watch from afar as he handed over his dagger to inexperienced hands was truly a gut wrenching experience. How could your closest friend of literally hundreds of years spend his potentially last moments with someone who was basically a stranger instead of a true friend? It was a revealing moment, it either showed how kind he was to try and help a defenseless person have a means to defend themselves if the time came where it was needed or he truly had changed and no longer cared for you. You would have your answer sooner than you had hoped. 

For as long as you have existed you were trained as a spy for the cover up of an  assassin. It made you as deadly as anyone else in the inner circle, maybe even deadlier since no one ever saw their death by your hands coming. So when the time came to go to war you were ready. The Battle was bloody and ugly and cruel. It was long and it felt never ending for every body you cut down it seemed there was ten more to replace it. When you watched as Cassin dove from the sky just as the cauldron unleashed its power amongst the world, the fight seemed hopeless. How were you supposed to win when hybern had that kind of power to be used whenever the king wished? But as a warrior in your own right you just wished that when you died upon this battle field that it wasn’t for nothing. That everyone in your family made it home by the end of this war, you may not recognize your family anymore but they meant the world to you and you just wanted them to be safe no matter the cost. 

Seeing help arrive re-established your hope that Hybern wouldn’t win and it pushed you to fight that much harder but the renewed sense of vigor made you lose focus and that was your downfall. A hybern soldier came charging at you with the anger of a thousand suns and sliced your stomach in one quick motion and before you knew it you were one the ground bleeding out. 

The inner circle was checking on Cassian when an unexpected figure came walking in with your limp body in their arms. “Oh gods, y/n!’’ Mor was the first to stand up and gawk at you in Tamlins arms before the healers directed him to a place where they could properly work on you. Nothing was said as the healers started working, as the inner circles' minds were racing and as Tamlin was leaving. “Thank you” Tamlin didn’t even stop to acknowledge Rhysands form of gratitude. Azriel was the first to speak “How did we forget about her?” no one had an answer.  

Once back in Velaris with your healing underway you could tell that something was off within the group besides the obvious effects of a battle like that and a gut feeling told what it was. You could feel this sense of guilt every time you stepped foot into a room and you knew it was that they forgot about you, they never said that they did but while you were unconscious you could hear everything, and what you heard broke your heart. You were becoming an outsider in your own family. 

You watched day by day as Amren bickered with Nesta, Ryhsand flirt with Feyre and cassian with Nesta, watched as Elain and Azriel danced the line of lovers and watched as you were slowly distanced from the group but it all came to a head after a heated argument with Elain. You were sick and tired of her acting like she was helpless when she wasn’t. She was cauldron made and she needed to start acting like it or else it would get someone killed or even herself. It happened on a training day. 

The sun was beating down on your tired body and the whisper of a breeze was doing little to help and listening to Elain ask Azriel for help was driving you up a wall. “Azriel can you help me? I don’t think I'm doing this right?”  all she was doing was stretching and she needed help with it? “For fucks sake Elain do you want him to spoon feed you and wipe your ass for you while hes at it?” Everyone stopped at your outburst and stared at you. Nesta looked like she was ready to rip off your face but Azriel beat her to it “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you watched as she shifted her body to be behind his as if she knew he would fight her battles for her. “What it means Azriel” you stalked into his space until you were face to face and watched over his shoulder and Elain moved to seek comfort between her sister and the high lord and you couldn’t help but scoff at her theatrics 

 “Is that all this group ever seems to do is baby her! She is not a child, she can handle herself. She doesn’t need you to teach her how to touch her toes Azriel but heaven forbid poor sweet Elain has to do something on her own for once. I mean my gods what aren’t you willing to do for her Azriel? Correct me if I’m wrong but didn’t you give her the truth teller?” Azriel was quick to interrupt “Is that what this is seriously about?” if looks could kill he would be dead because your glare is cutting him up into pieces “I wasn’t done. You gave her your dagger, you went into a hybern camp to save her, you answer her every single beck and call as if she's not fully capable of doing things for herself. You all enable this, every single one of you!” you point to every member of the inner circle “ And I have had enough of this bullshit! Its ridiculous! Elain loves to play sweet and innocent but really she just loves having people dote on her and not having to do anything herself.”  Everyone knew you were seething for they could see the redness creeping up your neck and into your face. And apparently you pissed off Elain

 “So what if Azriel did those things for me it has nothing to do with you so mind your own business.” you knew she wasn’t as nice as she seemed. “This has everything to do with me! I used to be his best friend, me! Not you! I watched everyone change when your family came along and it ruined mine! I have been in love with Azriel since the day I met him and yet I’ve had to watch him fall for you, who he hasn’t even known for two seconds! I heard him say that they forgot about me on the battlefield after hybern! So yes this is about me, I am an outsider in my own family!” The silence was deafening after watching you fight to speak through your tears and cracking voice. No one dared to move for fear of upsetting you even more or maybe it was the weight of your words keeping them in place. Azriel went to place a hand on top of your shoulder but you were quick to step out of his reach. “Y/n I had no idea you felt that way” again you couldn’t help but scoff “Of course not because you were too busy with sweet Elain to notice anything else.” he shook his head as if in a silent no “I am so sorry that we forgot about you there is no excuse it should of never happened. I-we never knew you felt this way, felt like you were being pushed away. But y/n why didn’t you ever tell me that you had feelings for me?” something broke in Azriels heart watching you cry, watched as your face scrunched in pain while you fought back sobs from taking over your body. Something pulled him to comfort you but he knew better than that. He couldn’t, not with Elain here.

“I have been telling you for five hundred years Azriel how much more do you want me to do? I may have never flat out said it but why do you think I stayed up waiting for you to come home after missions, or why I defended you against the teasing, or why I showed you my love in a thousand different ways but you never noticed even though you are the head spy master of the night court.” a sob racked your body forcing you to stop and Azriel wanted nothing more than to hold you until the tears stopped flowing and you felt whole again something in his soul was pulling him towards you but your next words stopped him in his tracks. “I never told you because to you it seems that I have never just been good enough. I have never been enough for you.”

[popamolly]

I LOVE UR WRITING ITS SO AMAZING AND JUST DIEIHRJURJRH. MAY I REQUEST ANGEL DUST SMUT PLEASE PLEASEEE

៸៸ ﹟MY SLUTTY BOY!

pairing. angel dust x gn!reader

warnings. established relationship, kinda kinky, dirty talk, rough sex but passionate sex (because that is what our baby deserves), we give Angel a blowjob, Angel’s real name is said, you’re a soft dom, Angel is a brat, oneshot, porn with kinda a plot idk, smut, is implied that Angel is “riding” you, 18+ minors dni

author’s note. AHHHHH THANK YOU LOVE!! I APPRECIATE IT! i hope you enjoy this <3

𖤐 MASTERLIST

When you and Angel got together it was quite a shock to your friends. Not a bad shock, but just a shock of how did you two even end up together? You both were polar opposites. With your quiet nature and Angel’s outgoing personality no one even saw it coming. It was a natural attraction to one another, a slow burn that was well rewarded with time. You treated Angel with so much care and love that it was a bit toxic in the beginning because he didn’t know how to handle such kindness since it was foreign to him. Though with a bit of patience and positive affirmations, you soon had the spider demon wrapped around your finger.

Angel was head over heels for you and you couldn’t help but feel the same way. You loved him dearly— so much so that you quite literally couldn’t live your afterlife without him. Your boyfriend made this hellhold better and whenever you were with him, it was as if you entered heaven yourself.

The only fault in your relationship would be your sex life. It was great, of course, but there was still some trauma you needed to help Angel heal from whether if he wanted to admit it or not. You saw it in the way him breath would quicken, how he squeezed his eyes shut, or his hands would get shaky— the list went on. Everytime you brought it up he would shut you down quickly, putting on that fake persona that he acted like you couldn’t see right through.

Everytime you two had sex, you made sure to build that trust all over again, to make him feel safe while submitting to your lead. The only problem with Angel was that he was so stubborn and wouldn’t use the safe word even if he was clearly not enjoying the sex. You had to take it upon yourself to watch for signs, any little sign that he was uncomfortable— and tonight was just another example of that.

“What are ya waiting for, sugar? I thought you promised me a good time?” Angel teased, as if he wasn’t currently be fucked into the mattress just to edge you in even more.

You chuckled darkly, hands tight around his neck as you forced his head back down into the pillow so his ass would stick up more in the air. Your pace was ruthless as you pounded him with reckless abandon,“Don’t. Be. A brat.” You enunciated each word with a harsh thrust, earning a loud moan from your boyfriend beneath you, his back arching impossibly more, the sounds of his broken moans muffled by one of his bed pillows he bit down on, “I can’t hear you over the sound of your tight hole sucking me in like that Angel, you need to speak up baby….baby?”

You stilled your hips, the pads of your thumbs gently rubbing circles onto the side of his hips as you grew concerned at the sound of his whimpers. And it wasn’t the good whimpers, you knew him long enough to differentiate the two.

“Why’d ya stop?!” He whined, face still buried in his pillow since he was unable to meet your gaze. It was dumb of him to even try to act like he was fine when he clearly wasn’t and you could tell, “(Y/N), just fuck me already!”

“Anthony,” You tilt your head expectantly, “Not until you look at me.”

With a deep sigh, Angel turns around to face you and your heart nearly tugged at the sight of his tears stained cheeks. He looked down, unable to meet your gaze because of embarrassment and just overall shame. He knew that you knew his past and he was a fool to think he would magically heal over night due to finally having a healthy, consenting, relationship. No words needed to be exchanged and all you could do was be there for him for whatever he needed as you watched him curl into himself.

“Do you want to stop?” You asked finally after a few silent moments, hesitant on reaching out to touch him.

Angel shook his head.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“N-No.” Angel grabbed ahold of your hand, pulling you back closer to him with a small frown, “I’m sorry, Let’s—” You cut him off with a loving kiss, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks gently with a warm smile.

“Don’t ever apologize,” You lean over him, pushing his body back into the bed gently as you kissed him with passion, with love. It was a slow, sensual kiss that had the both of you burning hot with desire yet again, “Now, just tell me what you want me to do.”

Angel gulped, fully relaxing into your embrace now that he could see your face, and see the sincerity in your eyes as well as your words. It wasn’t like him to be speechless but you brought out a different side to him. It was a good change of pace and he couldn’t help but thank you for it.

You let your hands explore his body, toying with the fluff around his chest before moving down his body until you are faced to face with his hardening cock. Spreading his legs, you nuzzle your cheek into the soft flesh of his thigh, never breaking eye contact with Angel, “You want me here?” Angel could only nod helplessly which has you practically growling in response. You bit down on his thigh a bit harshly, causing him to yelp and bring his hands to your head instinctively, “Don’t have me tell you to use your words again.”

“Yes, baby..” Angel shudders at the feelings of you gliding your warm tongue along his inner thigh to now soothe the pain your had caused, “Fuck yes, please.,”

You wanted to hear him beg some more until he was practically shaking in anticipation but you weren’t going to be cruel to him just yet. For now you wanted to please him, to have him shaking beneath you in such mind bobbling pleasure that he forgets his worries even if it’s just for a moment.

“Fuck,” He mutters quietly, his legs shaking as you glided your warm tongue along the underside of his cock.

Angel tasted sweet with a bit of saltiness lingering on your tongue that was addicting. You haven’t even started yet and yet you wanted nothing more than to touch yourself because God, he was so hot. Everything about him was perfect and you only wished he could see himself through your eyes. You were too spurred on in the moment to give a damn about yourself. All you wanted was to give him the best head he’d ever experienced in his life— and afterlife.

His dick was slightly curved and thick enough to the point where you were sure you’d choke around it. You took him into your hand, pumping him slowly as you spit down onto the tip so the salvia could coat his cock and your fingers.

“Can I put it in my mouth?” You asked softly, your hand moving at a steady pace around his shaft made him whimper in want.

“Yes, fuck, yes.” Angel’s fingers tangle in your hair, low groan leaving his lips as you wrap your mouth around his sensitive swollen tip, “Oh fuck, baby.”

You tasted his precum on your tongue, making you moan softly as you hollowed your cheeks to give his tip favoring attention. The sensation made Angel buck his hips up suddenly, making you place your hands on his hips to pin him to the bed, moving your mouth further down so you could take all of him into your mouth without him trying to run from the pleasure.

Just the sight of you deep throating his cock had Angel in a complete state of euphoria. The feeling of your warm mouth around and the way your throat constricted had his toes curling in ecstasy, “(Y/N)—!”

You glanced up at him innocently, batting your eyelashes as if your mouth wasn’t being stuffed full from his cock. The way Angel moved his fallen white hair away from his face made him all the more cuter. His cerise pink eyes never broke away from your sinful gaze, not caring about how loud he was being and if the whole hotel could hear. He wanted them to hear how good you were making him feel.

Salvia dripped out of the corners of your mouth and down your chin, making you look like a sloppy mess as you continued to suck his dick. Angel was holding himself back, afraid that he would make a wrong move or hurt you if he took control. You sensed his hesitation, coming up for air to give him a lustful smile,

“Use my mouth, pretty boy. I won’t break.”

Angel released a cracked groan, gripping the back of your head with more force so he could thrust up into your mouth. You gagged around his length when his tip hit the back of your throat,

“Fuck, ya’ look so gorgeous with my cock down your throat (Y/N),” Angel praises you, “Just like that, fuck!”

You moaned at the praise, sending pleasant vibrations up his body that sent him spiraling toward his release. His grip on the base of your neck only tightening as he began to thrust into your mouth at a pace you could hardly keep up with. Your name and a few more dirty phrases fell from his mouth like a soft prayer as he panted, tossing his head back at the overwhelming pleasure.

“Ya’ going take my cum? Yeah, i bet you are, and i bet you’re going to swallow every last drop, isn’t that right sugar?” You felt your stomach turn with butterflies at Angel’s new found confidence, your jaw going slack as he thrusted into you with such force before his sweet release washed over him. White string of ropes shot out of his tip and down your throat, making you gulp loudly as you gladly swallow everything he was giving you, “Fuck yes, baby!”

You let Angel slowly thrust in and out of your mouth to ride out his high. Ignoring the dull ache in your jaw, you pulled way from his cock with a smile just as Angel forced you up back onto the bed not giving you a second to collect yourself before he aligned you with his entrance, sinking down ever so slowly that you swore you were already seeing stars.

Your grip tightened around his waist, fingertips digging into his side as he wasted no time to start riding you, “You..fuck, can’t get enough can you?”

“Mm, baby, you know I’m just getting started.” Angel smiled down at you, making you look up at him as if he was some deity— and you wanted nothing more to lay at his feet and give him the world. Your boyfriend gasps as you sat up suddenly, hands intertwining in the strands of his hair before you grab a fistful, forcibly tugging his head back so you could attack his neck with love bites, only being turned on more with the moans that left his mouth.

He continued to work his hips against you, bouncing up and down with expertise. There was a lewd squelch sound coming from where you both were connected, making it slick as you moved your hips back against him, “That’s my pretty boy, taking me so good.” Angel had his fun and now it was your turn to take over, “Good fucking boy.”

You took control of his movements, easily overpowering him as you plant your feet flat on the bed so you could jack hammer up into Angel.

“(Y/N)! Oh, yes—! Right there baby!” Your hands found its way to his throat, your fingers squeezing slightly to the point where he parted his lips with a blissful smile, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head as he let his tongue hang out, “Don’t stop!”

“Oh I won’t,” You promised, your hand coming down to smack his ass harshly, enjoying the fact that it jiggled upon contact, “Not until you cum for me again, my slutty boy.”

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost on any other social media.

[theostrophywife]

Eris letting you braid his hair for an event or just even a normal day 🥹

intertwined.

author's note: would kill for the opportunity to braid my little fox's hair 😔

eris never let anyone touch his hair.

as a young child, he learned to style and braid it himself. his mother was fond of teasing that eris had control issues when it came to his locks, but it was more than that. letting anyone that close to him meant being vulnerable and intimate, which he admitted he had a great deal of trouble doing.

for a few years, eris had even opted on keeping his hair short. that way, it wouldn't be a hassle to handle. but that was before you said that you missed his long hair. and cauldron fucking boil it, the little comment was all it took for eris to begin growing it out again.

when you returned to court after his coronation, something absolutely horrendous started happening to eris. he couldn't eat. he couldn't sleep. he couldn't think. it was pathetic, really. the high lord of the autumn court felled by some silly little crush. especially since you'd known each other since you were children. he'd seen you eat a mud pie, for cauldron's sake. granted, you were five at the time and six year old eris had indulged in your little concoction all the same.

still, the rabid little girl with the unruly curls and buck teeth shouldn't have made him so nervous. but you did. the tomboy he knew was not the same female that returned to court. eris was surprised by the transformation. gone was the frizzy mop of hair, replaced by glossy waves that smelled of candied apples and honeysuckle. you had grown into your smile as well and every time you flashed those pretty little dimples at him, eris felt his traitorous heart slamming thrashing against his chest.

the high lord couldn't even blame his attraction on your beauty, though there was plenty of it to go around. he was attracted to you because of your mind. eris had never met such a brilliant, cunning, and utterly ruthless female in his life. watching you spar with the other members of his council was almost like foreplay to him. you were passionate and fiery and you didn't back down without a fight. you cared not only about your territory, but the wellbeing of the autumn court as a whole. it was the sexiest thing he had ever seen.

eris said as much, turning on that infamous charm that made every maiden in the fox's den swoon. you had looked him up and down before humbling him with an apathetic stare. "you're going to have to try harder than that, high lord."

no matter what eris did, you seemed to be utterly unimpressed by his efforts. what he didn't know was that you didn't want this suave and seductive high lord. what you really wanted was the shy and sensitive eris who used to help you make mud pies and pick wildflowers for you during your walks through the godswood. your one friend in the forest house who made you laugh with his sarcasm and sassy little quips.

that was the boy that you'd fallen in love with back then. not the smooth stranger who used his charm like a shield, protecting him from ever really getting close to anyone. until he showed you the eris that five year old you had adored, you had no interest in starting anything with this stranger.

that stranger stared at his reflection, smoothing down a perfectly tailored crimson doublet as he frowned into the mirror. though eris was impeccably dressed, there was still the matter of his hair to contend with. ever since your comment, he had stopped cutting it and his locks had once again grown past his shoulders. the problem was that he had gotten so used to it being short and braiding it took longer than he remembered. he examined his reflection once more, straining to see if his attempt at a half braid looked acceptable.

"that's an interesting style," a familiar voice called from the doorway. eris turned to find you staring at him with a bemused smile. you were dressed in scarlet, looking like a living flame flickering in the dim hallway. the sounds of music and livery echoed from the grand ballroom, indicating that he was more than fashionably late.

"though it's more of a knot than a braid."

the high lord sighed. "it's entirely your fault, you know. i wouldn't have grown it out if it weren't for you." he set down his brush. "now you've come to mock my pain."

"i'm not mocking," you said, striding into the room like you owned it. "i simply don't understand how six year old eris possessed more proficient braiding skills than this."

"six year old eris also used to hide in the cupboard from his governess. i don't think he should be making any crucial decisions now."

you stopped behind him, looking at your reflections in the mirror. a small smile bloomed on your lips as though you were recalling the memory.

"you seem to forget that i was in that cupboard right beside you." eris chuckled, remembering the way the two of you used to giggle in the dark as his governess searched for him in a panic. "if you ask me, six year old eris made perfectly good decisions and he certainly wouldn't have forgotten how to do a mermaid braid."

"mermaid braid," eris repeated. "you thought me how to do that, didn't you?"

"i did. though you almost tangled my doll's hair so badly that it was nearly unsalvageable." you rested your hands on the chair's headrest and that unmistakable delicious smell filled his senses, like breathing in the crisp autumn air. "would you like a refresher, high lord?"

"promise you won't exact revenge on your doll's behalf?"

you smirked. "i'll try my best not to succumb to temptation."

"good enough for me." eris looked up, his amber eyes glowing like honey against the faelights.

the high lord hesitated for a moment. never in the entirety of his immortal life had he allowed anyone else to touch his precious hair, but this was the first conversation in months that you'd actually smiled and joked with him. maybe he had approached this all wrong. when you first met, you hadn't befriended him because he was the high lord's heir. you had never cared about his status or title. the thing that brought you together was the fact that you could truly just be yourselves around each other. not the future high lord or the duke's daughter. just eris and y/n.

perhaps he needed to take a cue from that eris.

"may i?" you asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.

eris took a deep breath. he could do this. he could be vulnerable. "yes. yes, please."

you smiled and those dimples he loved so much made an appearance. eris was simply mesmerized as you brushed his hair, working through the tangles that he'd undoubtedly caused from his failed braiding. you worked in silence, your features pinched in intense concentration as you took sections of his hair and crossed them into one another. eris watched all of this through the mirror, content to sit back and allow himself to enjoy the feeling of your fingers gently tugging at his scalp.

it felt nice. for once, eris let his guard down and just enjoyed the moment for what it was. a friend helping a friend.

"all done," you announced proudly.

eris ran his fingers through the intricate braids you had woven into his hair. "thank you, y/n." he looked up at your reflection, swallowing thickly. he had already been vulnerable once tonight, might as well try for a second. "i've missed this," he said wistfully. "just being us."

there was a soft expression on your face as you met his gaze in the mirror. "you know you can always be yourself around me, eris."

"i know," eris responded. "six year old me remembers."

a rush of satisfaction flooded him as you smiled shyly. "we should get going. the court will start to wonder where their high lord is."

"wait," eris said, catching you by the wrist. you watched as he opened one of his drawers. in his hand was a small bouquet of wildflowers tied together with twine. "i was walking through the godswood and these wildflowers made me think of you. i remember how much you loved them when we were younger."

"i still do," you admitted, smiling as he offered you the flowers. "thank you, eris."

eris flushed, nodding as he watched you pluck one of the stems. you reached for his braid and weaved a wildflower through his hair. "it's perfect."

he offered you his arm and grinned. a genuine, bashful grin that you hadn't seen since you were five years old. "shall we?"

for a second, you saw a glimpse of the boy you'd fallen in love with. underneath the facade, the eris that you adored was still there.

you nodded, taking his arm and preparing yourself for whatever the night might bring. "we shall."

[biteofcherry]

Make the dust fly

dark!Steve Rogers x female reader; dark!Captain Rogers x fairy reader

Author’s Note: This is a dark retelling (with a wicked twist) of a Peter Pan fairytale, for @boxofbonesfic​ “Once Upon A Time” challenge and 10k milesestone celebration - once again, congratulations! 

summary: You’ve always been loyal to Peter and to his group of rascals, fierce in the way you protect them. So when the bloodthirsty Captain Rogers is close to catching your friends, your fairy heart bursts with courage and you place yourself between them. Little did you know that Captain was never after Peter. It was always about you… 

warnings: dark!Steve Rogers; dub-con (bordering on non-con); captivity; stocks/pillory; spanking; size kink; forced orgasm; explicit sexual content; mentions of drug use;

Reader is a fairy, Peter’s sassy Tinkerbell, but in my take on this universe fairies aren’t that tiny tiny. They’re “regular size”, but definitely smaller than Captain Rogers. 

Also, there’s a light hint at WS!Steve, regarding his prosthetic (after all, he’s serving as Captain Hook in this). 

word count: 5.8k

Though the sun spilled through the half-broken window of the old sanctuary, the splashes of colors softening the stone floors where stained glass-work cast its reflection, the soothing atmosphere was dispersing. 

Fear and charging darkness chased you through the corridors as the pirates’ trap closed in on you.

How did they even find this place? It was an abandoned little playground which you found a few months ago and to which you brought Peter and the boys, Wanda too. Her stories gained a new dimension of life when told here. 

It should be safe! So far from the seas and rocky beaches where the pirates often lurked. Far from the lush green forests, which Captain seemed to roam alone with ease, as if he wasn’t a bastard limited to the seas, but a nomad who found his place anywhere he wished. Anywhere his power allowed him.

And he had power in bulks. 

Elders of your fairy clan have spoken of him with fear. You always thought it to be because of his ruthless mastery over the seas and the merciless determination with which he hunted Peter. 

Somehow, he found Peter even here, so deep into the land it felt impossible to meet him and his crew here. But the warning came crisp and clear as MJ ran inside the sanctuary, breathless and panicked, yelling about pirates securing nets outside and preparing to storm in. 

Nets so they could trap all of you, even if your dust gave your friends the ability to fly. 

“Go, Peter!” You hissed at him, handing him a small pouch with gathered fairy dust. 

“Take Wanda and leave through that tunnel we found last week!” You urged them. “Once outside, you’ll be able to fly off. They won’t be able to set up nets over a cliff!”

“Come with us.” Peter caught your wrist. “We can all fly.”

You shook your head, yanking your hand from Peter’s grip. That spontaneous escape would work on most, but not on Captain Rogers.

As rash and reckless many men were, he was a brilliantly strategic son of a bitch. The fact he somehow found you here, was able to build up a quick trap, spoke of how dangerous it was to underestimate him.

Somehow- someone had to play decoy, so the others could save themselves.

You knew Peter managed to get free in the past, always so creative in improvising and audacious enough to follow through with quite crazy plans, but this time it felt more dire. Your instinct told you it was no playful risk, but could be the end to all ends. 

Captain Rogers wanted Peter, you were merely an annoyance he’d wave off like a fly. 

“Go! Go now!” You pushed Peter toward the secret exit. “I’ll meet you later.” You vowed, determined to squirm your way out of the pirate’s grasp. 

When the group started squeezing into the tunnel, you took a deep breath and fluttered your wings out. You flew up to one of the partially broken windows and peeked over the red stained glass that used to be a part of a rose. 

Hook’s crew was indeed outside, in a formation that looked threatening and discouraging to any rebellion. Well, it made your rebellious streak flare. After all, fairies weren’t known for mellow, compliant behavior. You certainly weren’t that kind of a fairy. Nor that kind of woman. 

Hook. You shook your head as you thought of a rather cruel nickname the boys gave Captain Rogers. 

He lost his arm - there were various tales regarding the circumstances behind that. Some included a ridiculous brawl with a crocodile; another a power hungry demi god from the outerworld who turned into an alligator; other stories were about wars in far lands after which Rogers’ body washed up on the shores nearby, already lacking an arm. 

Whatever the truth was, each tale had a significant truth to it which your friends liked to omit - Rogers survived. Perhaps even won. 

It should keep you all scared, not underestimate him as a pathetic, crazy pirate with a prosthetic. 

There was a hook attached to his prosthetic many years ago, but it was long gone, replaced with a functioning metal arm whose endurance and strength matched Rogers’ general power. 

Still, Peter and the boys snickered at the Hook nickname.

Most of the time you called him Rogers or Captain Rogers, only when you were truly pissed, or scared of losing your friends, did you call him Hook; and many other degrading names.

He stood there, so close to the entrance. His head was slightly bowed as he talked to a man beside him. Sun streaks seemed to catch in his blond hair, his features bathed in warm glow. It annoyed you that someone so ruthless and despicable dared to look so beautiful, so stunning. Light and magic of the world were for fairies like you, to shimmer in your nearly translucent wings and burst full of color as you shed dust. It shouldn’t caress a man like Captain Rogers, making him appear innocent-like.

No, he was not innocent. 

He was a bottomless pit of darkness and all things wicked, only luring with his handsome veneer. Like those flowers Tiger Lily once showed you - they were so lush and aromatic, but when an insect touched their petals they’d trap it inside and feed on it.

Not only because Rogers had this sick obsession with Peter, trying to hunt him down, but there were other instances that turned your blood cold. 

He kidnapped three mermaid younglings, taking them far away over the seas and selling them as an attraction, or maybe as pets. He spread bodies of his enemies on the rocky shore, arranging their corpses in wooden galways, leaving them for animals to feed on. 

There was a tale of Echo, one of the Tribe’s people, who disappeared unexpectedly. Rumors of her fate laid at Captain Rogers’ feet. Yet there was no gossip of her potential whereabouts. And the Tribe, for some unknown reason, still occasionally traded with the pirates. 

Rage at his conscienceless acts made you itch for your daggers. Though you probably couldn’t hit him from a distance.

So you flew up slightly higher, to get a better look at the siege, seek a hole through which you could escape and show them the middle finger. 

At that moment Captain turned his head and looked up, as if he sensed he was being watched. His gaze zeroed in on you.

Stupidly, really, but you stuck out your tongue at him when your eyes met. 

Rogers cocked his head to the side, his gaze slid from you to the building then back up. He was assessing something, calculating. Suddenly he turned on his heel and marched straight inside. 

Heart jumping to your throat in fear, you flew down. 

It dawned on you that he had to be considering where your group may hide within the sanctuary’s corridors, but your little peek gave him the answer right away. It meant he was aiming straight to your place of hiding.

Which was good, you reminded yourself. It drew attention away from Peter and Wanda and the rest. You had to stand your ground. 

You couldn’t just fly around like a butterfly anyway, since a few months ago it turned out that pirates have shipped in some new kind of weapon that splutters rapid fire at any object in motion. It would hit you at some point, even if you’d manage to dodge most of the shots.

Taking Rogers on in a fight was a task near impossible, but you were fast, agile and quite good with your daggers in close distance. Maybe you’d be able to surprise him with a nick, or two, and use the distraction to escape. The tunnel Peter and the rest went through was so narrow that Captain’s broad, large frame would never fit through it. 

You drew out your daggers, clenching your fingers around the ornately carved wood, as you heard booming steps approaching. Captain Rogers barged in, his pace slowing as he entered the chamber fully. 

A small group of his pirates followed, but when they realized there’s no one beside you inside, they stopped in their tracks. 

You felt a surge of victory. You tilted your chin up defiantly, a smirk curving your lips as you threw Captain a challenging look.

“Peter’s not here.” You called out, triumphantly. “You’re not gonna get him, old man.”

It was an overused jab that had more spunk when Peter yelled it. His youth could rub it in for a man of Rogers’ age (truthfully, you did not know his actual age, but he was at least twice the age of Peter and Wanda). 

You? Fairies aged differently. You may as well be his age, if not older. 

Captain Rogers didn’t seem enraged at your challenge. A muscle in his jaw twitched, but his face remained impassive as he stared you down.

He motioned at his people to stand down behind then slowly drew out his sword. The sound of a sharp blade leaving its sheath pierced the silence that fell over the sanctuary. 

Your fists clenched, the hilt of your dagger digging painfully into your delicate skin. You drew your wings together and rested them against your back to gain more momentum as you charged at him. 

You were fast and sneaky, easily avoiding Captain’s first cuts. Unfortunately for you, his large size wasn’t an obstacle to his agility. You learned it quickly as his moves sped up and he matched you in your rapid twists. His bulky frame was surprisingly graceful in a fight. 

With a snarl, you managed to cut his shoulder, dark shirt parting where your blade nicked it. Blood soaked that spot, but the Captain didn’t even hiss, nor did he falter in his steps. 

He attacked you with ferocity, though you didn’t notice that each of his moves was to disable you rather than kill you. Too immersed in your own rage, you slashed like a caged animal while he remained a sophisticated predator toying with his food.

You twisted around, swaying your arm in a half circle in an attempt to slice his other arm. A sudden pain in your wings pulled you backward. He caught your wings in his metal fingers, delicate filaments nearly crushing under the pressure. With a yelp, you bowed your back to lessen the tugging pain, flailing your arms around to lash at anyone who dared to approach. 

Captain Rogers hit your fist with the broad side of his sword, the strength behind it hard enough to make your fingers seize in pain. You dropped the dagger. Before it clattered to the floor, he did the same to your other hand, leaving you weaponless. 

Another tug at your wings pulled you backwards to him, then his hand caught one of your wrists, wrenching your arm behind your back. 

He had you locked, your side pinned to him as he forced your back to bow further, your face tilting up to him as you did. 

Striking blue eyes, reminding you of the electric clear sky after stormy clouds disperse, stared down at you. A cold victory shimmered in his irises.

“I don’t care about getting Peter, little sprite.” Captain’s deep, velvety voice resounded over the rapid fluttering of your heart. 

“It was always about you.” 

His dark chuckle caused your heart to stop, dread swallowing you in a cold wave. 

You never expected to become a part of his sinister plans; your mind filled with horrifying images of being shipped away to unknown lands, sold like a piece of meat, or forced into labor to survive. You were ready to die, if it meant saving your friends, but you never considered a worse fate awaiting. 

One of the Captain's crewmen brought a set of shackles, which they locked around your hands. Usually you were able to get out of any regular cuffs, but these seemed to be tailored for a fairy’s slimmer wrists. Attached to it was a heavy chain, the end of which Captain Rogers wrapped around his metal hand. 

“You can walk, or you can fly, I don’t care.” He said to you, yanking on the chain and forcing you to stumble into his chest. 

With his other hand he gripped a fistful of your hair and loomed over you. 

“But you will follow me, sprite. Or another chain will go around your neck and I’ll drag you by it all the way to my ship.”  

He led you out of the sanctuary, your feet scurrying after his big strides. Once outside, you spread your wings, helping yourself catch up to Captain’s pace by floating in the air. A small group of his pirates joined you, trading beside and behind. The rest stayed to take down the nets and pack everything. 

It really seemed that Captain got exactly what he wanted and you had no idea why it was you. 

You looked for any familiar faces that might lurk in the thickness of the jungle, or hide behind rocks, as the pirates led you to the beach where the boats awaited. Anyone, who could carry the news of your capture to Peter, or to your fairy clan. 

However, all forms of life seemed to scatter from the Captain’s path. 

Perhaps it was the right thing to do. You should’ve abandoned your bold, fierce courage - or stupidity, really - and hide from him, like all reasonable creatures did. 

As some of the elders of your clan sighed, you spent too much time joining Peter’s reckless adventures, forgetting your survival instinct. 

At the shore, Captain brought you with him into one of the boats. Only two other pirates joined you, their task to row the boat toward the monstrous, black ship out in the open sea. Rogers made you sit down on the bottom of the boat, curled between his spread legs. 

He ran a finger down the back of your neck and to where your wings grew out of your back. You hunched forward, then turned your head and glared at him. His mouth curved in a cocky smirk as he teased the outline of your shimmering wing. 

You clenched your jaw and hung your head down, feigning pure anger to cover the hint of trembling. 

Fairy’s wings were exceptionally sensitive to touch. The stroke of Captain’s fingers evoked a sensation contrary to pain or discomfort. That side of your wings, when teased, would cause your nipples to stiffen and a fire to bloom in your abdomen. 

You would never let Hook know about that. He’d use it to humiliate you, or to think of an even worse fate for you. You were sure he had some depraved, disgusting buyers in the dark human offshores. 

Once on the ship, the crew parted as Captain Rogers prowled toward his suite. Their eyes leering as they watched you trot behind him. You swallowed, but tilted your chin high. You even sent a glare at one or two of the pirates. 

Your breath stuttered in your chest, your eyes growing big, when among the crew you noticed a dark haired woman. Tight braids adorned with beads and a pirate’s outfit on her body, but you recognized Echo. Or someone who looked so much like her. She sent you a dismissive look, as if she wasn’t bothered by your presence. She definitely didn’t seem to be in distress.

You had no time to wonder about Echo’s ties to the pirate crew, because Rogers opened the door to his cabin and pushed you inside. Heavy wood closed behind you with a booming finality.

The first thing you saw was a long table with maps, plans and navigating instruments. Books lined shelves on the sides. A few trinkets glinted in the dimmed darkness. 

The cabin was separated in half by a heavy curtain. When Captain led you around the table toward it and parted the folds of the embroidered fabric, you froze on the spot. 

That you’d see the private, sleeping part of his quarters was something you expected. But it was the thing beside his big bed, lined with layers of soft looking linens and silks, that made you stumble a step back. 

A large, human sized birdcage hung beside the bed. Pillows fluffed atop its bottom didn’t change the fact it was a scary, humiliating prison. Undoubtedly made for you. 

“I’d rather be tossed in the brick with other slaves you’re about to sell.” You gritted your teeth, yanking on the chain which Rogers’ held in his hand. 

“Sell?” He approached you, a cruel smile on his pretty lips.

He traced a single finger along your cheek and you flinched away from his touch, despite how strangely soothing it felt for your rattled heart. 

“Sprite, why would I sell something that can bring me regular profit rather than just a one time gain?” Captain chuckled.

Not the least discouraged by your body leaning away, he slid his hands down your arms. The fact his touch was gentle and not a forced manhandling, somehow made the disgust in you grow. 

“See, I’m well aware that fairy dust gives more than just the ability to fly for a few minutes.” He opened your shackles, dropping them and the chain to the floor with a loud clunk. “Though, that in itself would sell greatly.”

He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing tightly and forcing you to look him in the eye. 

“I know that fairy dust gives an euphoric rush and enhances strength, speed, and senses. Even if the effect is short, it's a drug most sought after.”

You heard of it - of what your dust gave people. Peter and your friends gained from it, but for joy and freedom. Others wanted the power of it for more nefarious deeds. And, as it always was with people, they wanted more and more and more. 

“I plan on reaping the benefits of selling it regularly. And you, little sprite, are my source.” 

With a wicked grin, Rogers kissed you on the lips. A short, harsh thing. Then he pulled back, laughing at your stunned face. 

It took you a second to regain your train of thought as your brain scrambled - both at his admission and the kiss. Ire rose, rebellion against aiding the damned pirate in any way bubbling hot like lava. 

“Ha!” You scrunched your nose and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not shedding a single flake of dust for you, asshole. Keep me locked as long as you want, you’re not getting any.”

You expected a flash of anger. Hell, you wanted to annoy him! You wanted to push all his buttons, rip them free and stuff them down his throat so he chokes.

But he remained calm, amused even. Studied you with a head tilted to the side, corners of his mouth still lifted upward in a smile. 

Then, in a split second, he had a hand behind your neck, fingers gripping tightly. 

He dragged you across the room, toward a wooden pillory which you didn’t notice earlier. You growled out your protest, heels digging into the floor planks as you fought against Captain's grip. It was futile. He overpowered you easily. 

With the help of his metal hand, he had you bending down. Your neck settled into a bigger half-moon in the middle of the pillory. He forced your hands to rest in the smaller circles. Then locked the upper part, trapping you in. A padlock clicked in place. 

Your wings fluttered wildly, your feet lifting off the floor, but it changed nothing. He had you bound in an uncomfortable, humiliating position. 

He crouched in front of you, blue eyes staring into yours with a dark glint.

“Ah, sprite. You underestimate me.” His smirk grew and a dreadful feeling settled deep in your gut.

“I knew you wouldn’t shed dust for me willingly. I also know that there is another instance when a fairy sprinkles it. Uncontrollably, I’d say.” 

No! He couldn’t know that. Nobody did. 

That was a secret of the fairies, shared with absolutely no one. You never told Peter or anyone else. You knew no other fairies would reveal it, no matter how strongly they trusted human friends. 

Yet everything inside you sensed that the Captain spoke the truth. He knew the truth. 

“I- I have no idea what you are talking about.” You huffed out, but you suspected your bluff was easily caught. 

“Of course you do, sweet little sprite.” Rogers chuckled.

He straightened and slowly walked around you. He didn’t even reprimand you for struggling in the stockade, trying to somehow break the sturdy wood. He was this secured in his dominance over you. 

There was a long, silent pause, heightening your trepidation since you were unable to see what he was doing behind you. 

A big, warm hand rested right above your wings, then teasingly slowly dragged between them all the way to your ass. A brush along your wings was enough to send a faint zap of sensation to your core. Rogers flipped your green dress up, exposing your butt. He splayed his hand over one buttock, warming up your skin.

He pulled his hand away. A second later a loud smack resounded, evoking a burning sting and causing you to squeak. 

His fingers spread over the spot, rubbing soothingly and turning the pain into pleasant throbbing. He draped himself over you as he looked down at your bowed head from above the pillory.

“A fairy sprinkles dust when they’re aroused.” Rogers recited the most intimate secret. 

“Well, you don’t arouse me!” Your fingers clenched into fists as you hissed at him. 

“Don’t I?” Captain hummed. 

With his foot he kicked your legs wider apart. Next his hand landed with a softer slap over your pussy. He kept his fingers there. Held them pressed against you, starting a slow circular motion that drew out wetness you shouldn’t be presenting at his proximity. 

A whimper escaped your mouth as you felt your clit throb beneath his fingers. The thin fabric of your bottoms growing a wet spot. 

“There she is.” Captain drawled in pleasure, tracing his metal finger along the back of your neck. 

Dust glittered on your skin, the tiny flakes clinging to his finger as he touched your skin. 

His touch disappeared, leaving you with a mixture of relief and confusing longing, as Rogers moved around to face you again. 

He crouched down, showing you his finger that now shined with fairy dust.

“You may think I'm repulsive, sprite, but I will do things to your body that will make you burst in fountains.” He traced your lips with that finger, withdrawing it just in time before you thought to bite it (even if your teeth would crack against the metal of his prosthetic).  

“No, I won’t!” You sneered, struggling in your bonds. 

Captain’s face leaned closer, his breath puffing against your lips as he spoke:

“I’ll have you creaming and dusting yourself like a pathetic, needy slut. And you’ll learn to beg for it.”

He stood up, once again leaving you clueless about what he was about to do to you. The stocks prevented you from movement, but also blocked out any way of catching in your peripheral vision what was happening behind it. No way for you to prepare yourself for whatever the Captain did.

He slid your green bottoms down your legs in one swift move. You shrieked and tried to kick him. A cold, metal grip crushed your ankle. Your bones rattled, the pressure of his hold warning you of how easily he could break you if he wished.  

“Keep your feet on the floor, or I’ll shackle them too.” He barked, releasing your leg. 

You considered kicking him again, but then your brain lost the ability to connect thoughts to motions as another slap jerked your body. 

His hand met your bare skin now, the sting of it more intense. He gave you no pause as he began raining steady hits across your ass. Your body tensed, heat from the burning in your butt spreading in waves through your body. Perspiration shone on your skin, your breathing growing heavier. 

Then his fingers teased along your parted folds, dipping into shameful wetness that dripped out of you. 

You couldn’t comprehend how he managed that. The spanking has hurt, it shouldn’t rouse your body. Your position was humiliating. You were a captive against your will! And yet… Captain Rogers had you trembling with growing need. 

“Nooo!” You moaned a protest when his fingers gathered your wetness and started circling your clit.

Your thighs tensed. You wanted nothing more but to close them and stop this madness, but Captain slotted himself between them, the fabric of his pants abrasive on your delicate skin. 

“Yes, sprite.” He rubbed your nub harder. “Let it go.” 

He watched, mesmerized, as your skin started glowing. A delicate shimmer at first that turned brighter as your arousal spiked. The higher he pushed you the more dust appeared. Your skin looked like it was covered in a layer of sweet glitter. Your wings seemed to be encrusted with crushed gems, sprinkles falling all around as your wings fluttered.

A single long, big finger slid into you, spearing through your tight walls. An intrusion that set everything inside you on fire, causing the fairy dust to fall all around as you seized in pleasure. 

He kept pushing into you, even as you sagged. Pleading noises bubbled on your lips; for what, you weren’t even sure anymore. A second finger joined the first, stretching you. He curled them and the spot he nudged elicited another lewd moan from you. 

Captain’s cool, metal hand touched the small of your back. Surprisingly gently this time. He slid his fingers up, teasing the underside of your wing. Silver metal of his prosthetic covered in the thick brilliance of your dust, sparkles of rainbow caught in the light. 

He moved his hand further and gripped your wing a tad harder, not enough to cause pain though. That, combined with incessant thrusting of his fingers, toppled you over another peak. 

You came with a hoarse cry, dropping your head low as dust fluttered from your fingers which clenched and straightened in spasm as you rode out your orgasm. 

When he pulled out his fingers, a squelch of your sopping pussy humiliated you further. His metal hand gave your folds a little pat; you had to clench your jaw to stop another moan from falling out. 

Captain remained quiet. No teasing words, no victorious jab. 

You thought you heard him hum in delight. A silent pause stretched. Then a loud groan.

“Fuck.” His low, husky voice sent a shiver up your spine. 

His steps sounded heavier as he moved, as if he suddenly gained more weight or strength. He squatted in front of you. Your head felt heavy as you slowly lifted it up to look at him.

His irises weren’t simply blue anymore. They mirrored a jeweled shimmer of fairy dust. 

His skin seemed aglow, too. All of him pulsed with power.

“That I did not know, sweet sprite.” He said, wonder and hunger bursting a starlight in his eyes.    

“That your juices are more potent than a whole bottle of fairy dust.” He licked his lips as if savoring the taste. “I merely sucked your slick off my fingers and the power that it gave me? Oh, sprite- I feel it charging through me like a lightning bolt.” 

“A thimble of fairy dust gives a kick. A nice high with some enhanced perks for a short while. Your cream? It’s a storm in veins, sprite. A little lick and I’m a step from a god.” 

“No! No, please, no, you can’t-” Your brain turned frantic, fear creeping up through your still softened with pleasure body.

If he told anyone of that, not only would your fate be chained to the gutter, but all the other fairies would be at risk. Hunted and ripped apart for limitless greed of monsters like Captain Rogers.  

“Relax, little sprite.” His hand cupped your cheek, his voice almost soothing. His eyes, a galaxy of captivating darkness. “I have no intention of sharing this power with anyone. No, sweetling, I’ll be the only one you give it to.” 

“The others will pay high for the dust you sprinkle around plentifully. But your sweet, tiny cunt? It belongs to me now.”

He leaned in, sealing your lips with his own. You tasted yourself on his tongue, your juices not having the same effect on you as it did on him, but the hunger of his kiss stirred something inside you. 

He broke the kiss with a bite to your lip, which he soothed with a flick of his tongue. Then he was standing up and moving again, until he nestled himself between your thighs. 

His hands squeezed your buttocks, spreading them to allow him even easier access to your glistening, puffy folds. He licked you with a broad stroke of his tongue; the sensation made you shudder, your hips tilting upwards in an involuntary invitation. 

He devoured you, mouthing on your pussy as if it was the juiciest, sweetest fruit. He lapped up each trickle of your slick, forced his tongue inside then swirled it around your clit. Bristles of his beard brushed your skin, adding to the hazy pleasure. You knew you’ll have burns from how ferociously he ate you out. 

You came into his mouth, despite trying to hold it off. Your whimpers mixed with Captain’s groan of delight. 

He licked you clean, wasting no single drop, then trailed hot open mouthed kisses across your inner thigh and over your ass. Your legs shook as he straightened up. Rustling of fabric reached your ears, your dizzy brain recognizing clothes being taken off. 

“Might be a tight fit, sprite.” Captain’s husky chuckle made your pussy clench. 

Your weak whine unfurled into a wanton moan as the tip of his big cock stretched your opening. 

Captain Rogers was much larger than you in size overall, you never considered before that he may be proportionately bigger in every detail of his body. The breach of his cock felt nearly painful, yet his girth seemed to rub against spots which were never touched properly before. 

He kept pushing in, in, in, knocking the breath out of your lungs. He pierced into you deeper, filing you completely. 

“You taste amazing and you feel exquisite, too.” He gripped your hip with his metal hand and the curve of your upper wing with his flesh one as he bottomed out. 

“Ah, sprite! You’re so tight around me I may want to stay inside forever.” 

He ran his fingers along the curve of your wing, sending little shocks straight to your core. Your pussy fluttered, sipping more slick. 

“You like that, sweetling?” Captain purred, stroking your wing again, at the same time rocking his hips into you slowly. “Yeah, you do. I’ll make you see fireworks. Turn you into a little sparkling firework, too.” 

Tightening his hold on you, he withdrew. Then slammed back into you with force, evoking your cry. 

He fucked you with steady, deep thrusts, speeding up when your skin covered in new sheen of dust. Glittering powder seeped through his fingers where they rested on your wing; speckles of dust flaked from your thighs and ass with each sharp slap of his hips. 

Your whole body tensed, wings spreading wide and feet nearly flying off the floor as his cock drove into a particularly sensitive spot. You saw stars bursting white in your eyes and your whole body glimmered with a powdered rainbow. 

Your cries grew louder, then your voice scraped raw after another, and another climax. Still, Captain was fucking you through it. You had no idea if it was him alone, or if your magic that he gorged on made him able to last so long. 

When he finally finished, spilling inside you with a loud, beastly grunt, you were sweaty and shiny, and completely boneless. You nearly dropped to your knees when Captain slipped out and let go of you. 

With a breathless chuckle, he wrapped an arm under you and pulled you up. With his other hand he opened the padlock and released you from the stockade. You fell into his arms half-consciously, even your wings felt heavy, dropping down, too tired to make any motion. 

“See, little sprite, you dusted for me in abundance.” He mocked your earlier rebellion as he scooped you up.

The floor was covered in a thick layer of sparkling dust. Enough to fill a few vials.Your small feet left an imprint in the shimmery drizzle in the spot from which Captain picked you up.  

You had no strength to fight him when Rogers carried you across the suite. He opened the birdcage and sat you down on fluffy pillows. Arranged your body quite comfortably in your new, narrow prison. He locked it and swayed the cage with a gentle push. 

He watched you with clear, untired eyes (still sparkling with extreme power), while you peeked at him through heavy eyelids. You saw him wrap his fingers around his softening cock, gathering your mixed juices and bringing his hand up to his face. He licked it clean, his irises anew igniting with power.

His skin glowed, though you weren’t sure if it’s only the sweat from your coupling, or if your magic thrummed beneath his skin so vividly. His muscles looked to be carved from marble. Veins curved in places which you never paid attention to in any man. 

He looked like a god he claimed to feel like. 

A beautiful monster who you should despise for the rest of your life, no matter how your body shivered under his touch. 

“Rest now, sprite.” Captain cooed as your head leaned against one of the bars. “If you prove to be good, you might earn yourself bed rights someday.” 

He swayed the cage again, rocking you to sleep. Despite your effort to stay awake, to not waste a second and start forming a plan of escape, drowsiness was taking over your exhausted body. 

You fell asleep as you watched Captain pull on his pants - and nothing else - and bend over the map table, scribbling something down. A new course to lands where he could profit from your dust. 

Or doomed places where he could test the power that owning you gave him. 

[808airsoftbros]

Unlikely Love (Female Idols) (S) (BXG)

Author: Another written oneshot from my books. Hope you all like it and if you want to check out more of my works checkout my Masterlist

Y/N's POV

Prom is only in a week and I'm ecstatic to go with my girlfriend Solar, we've both been looking forward to this day for a long time.

She already picked out her prom dress and I picked out my tuxedo, and all I need to do is officially ask her to be my date.

Today is the day that I'm going to ask Solar to be my date for prom despite the fact that we have different social statuses.

Solar is known to be one of the school's bad girls but she has a soft side for me, and I'm basically the school's nerd and introvert.

Honestly, I never wanted to have any interaction whatsoever because I simply want to graduate high school with no involvement in trouble.

Yet here I am, holding a bouquet of flowers, reciting my lines over and over to myself in the mirror in the bathroom when nobody is present.

I know it may sound weird but I don't want to mess this up and make myself look like a fool in front of her and everyone else.

Once I feel confident enough in my ability, I exited the bathroom, I texted Solar to find out where she was but strangely she never replied and instead left me on read.

It didn't take long for the thought of her being unfaithful to come into my mind but I shrugged it off as there was no way that she'd do such a thing.

Looking around campus there was no sign of Solar anywhere, I've looked at the courtyard, cafeteria, and the usual classrooms she hangs out in, and not a single clue of her whereabouts.

However, there was one place that I didn't search... The rooftop where Solar confessed her feelings.

Going up the stairs to the rooftop, I heard loud chatter coming from outside the door, and I slightly opened the door wide enough for me to peek through.

When I got eyes on the group of students, my stomach dropped when I saw Solar in the arms of Park Jinwoo the school's most ruthless and popular guy.

"So, babe, is that degenerate nerd going to be a problem?" Jinwoo asked.

"Don't worry, baby, that idiot doesn't suspect a thing, I'm only just using him and when the time is right, I'm going to make prom a living hell for him." She answered and he smirked.

"Haha! That's my girl!" He replied.

My heart sunk and shattered into a million pieces, I wanted to cry and throw up but the shock in my mind made my body freeze in place.

After hearing them shit-talking me, I heard enough and ran down the stairs as fast as I can and balled my eyes out.

Considering that my relationship with Solar is practically over, the bell rang signaling for the first class of the day.

Grabbing my duffle bag from the locker, I go into the building where the locker rooms are located.

My mind was still stuck in those traumatizing events from earlier, and I have no idea how I'm going to get over it.

Was my love not enough for Solar? Or did it even matter to her? There were so many unanswered questions.

Pft. None of that matters anymore, with the bouquet of flowers, I place them in my bag for now and decided to just put it in a vase.

Entering the changing room, I was about to unzip my bag when I looked up and realized I've made the biggest mistake of my life.

Inside the locker rooms was a group of girls, I quickly began to panic, and I knew I needed to vacate the girl's locker room before they notice me.

Slinging my duffle bag on my shoulder, I sneakily and carefully make my leave to avoid alerting the girls who are changing.

Reaching the exit, I thought I'd be safe and away from hell until I felt a hand grip my shoulder and I froze in place.

"Where do you think you're going, naughty boy~?" I hear a female voice ask and I slowly turned around.

"Ooohhhh... Fuck..." I muttered as I'm about to die here.

Looking behind her, there were five more girls blankly staring at me, few of them don't even have their shirts on or even shorts making me gulp.

The girl dragged me back into the locker room, laid me down on the bench, and straddled onto my lap eliminating any chances of escape.

"What should we do to him, Unnie? Report him to the principal for sneaking into the girl's locker room?" A younger-looking student asked.

"No Yujin. I've got an even better idea~," Their leader said before licking her lips.

"L-Look, I-I'm sorry, okay! I wasn't paying attention to where I'm going!" I pleaded and they giggled.

"Oh naughty boy, it's far too late to apologize now... But you can still make it up to us," One of them replied.

"W-What is it?" I nervously asked and they smirked.

"Just play along and you'll find out~," Their leader whispered into my ear.

"Now shall we get acquainted? Or do you already know our names~?" She asked and I shook my head.

"Y-Your Kim Chaewon... Right? And you all are Karina, Gaeul, Yunjin, Kazuha, and Yujin," I answered and they wickedly smiled.

"Good, no need for introductions, what's your name, baby boy, ~?" Yunjin-Noona asked and I gulped.

"Chang Y/N," I answered.

"Enough talk! Let's get started already!" Chaewon-Noona demanded and they happily complied.

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

(Start of Smut)

Immediately, Yunjin-Noona and Gaeul-Noona came over and stripped me of my clothes as if their lives depended on it.

They take a good look at my nine-inch rod and they licked their lips as they enjoyed the sight of their catch.

"Mmmmm~. So big~," Gaeul-Noona complimented as she grabs a hold of it.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Noonas take off their bras and panties before joining us, Chaewon-Noona being the oldest gets the first dibs.

"Now, now, ladies, you know I get the first taste~," Chaewon-Noona said and they backed off.

Getting on her knees she gives my plonker a nice long lick sending a wave of stimulation of pleasure to my brain.

Wrapping her lips around the head of my knob she slowly bobbed her head up and down and I moaned despite trying to hide it.

"Mmmm~. Such a tasty meal, alright girls, it's your turn now~," Chaewon-Noona said and the girls jumped on me.

"Y/N-Baby, are you a virgin by any chance?" Kazuha-Noona asked and I slowly nodded.

"That's perfect for us because we're about to change that in about a few moments," Karina-Noona said and I gulped.

One by one each girl gave me one hell of a blowjob and I came in their mouths, it was a miracle that I still have some left even though I blew out the most in Chaewon-Noona's mouth.

"Come on, baby, we know you still have some left and your thing still wants more based on the look of it~." Yujin-Noona pointed out.

"So who wants to go first?" Gaeul-Noona asked and Chaewon-Noona jumped onto my lap.

"Me~! I'll take your first, baby since I'm the eldest, and believe me you'll be in a world of pleasure like never before~." She said before slowly lowering herself onto my knob.

Inserting my knob into her womanhood, she loudly moaned because of my huge size and I groaned at how tight she was.

"God, you're so tight, Noona," I pointed out.

"D-Don't worry, you'll get used to it," She replied before starting to ride me.

Afterward, she started to pick up her pace to the point where she rode me like a damn bull, and Karina-Noona lowered her chest to my face forcing me to suck her milkers.

"Mmmm~. Just like that baby~," Karina-Noona moaned.

Soon after, Chaewon-Noona came, she was frantically breathing as she was exhausted, and her members assisted her off of me.

"My turn~," Yunjin-Noona said and didn't waste any time riding the daylights out of me.

Yunjin-Noona was also tight as hell but something about her body drives me crazy and it's no wonder why so many guys tried to hit on her but she rejected them all including Jinwoo.

I nearly came but I didn't want to disappoint them and despite not having much experience, I held my ground and Yunjin-Noona came.

"God, you're incredible baby, so much better than my ex," She complimented before slowly getting off of me for the other girls to have their rounds.

"Indeed, I can say the same here..." Chaewon-Noona replied.

After Yunjin finished her round with me, Gaeul-Noona straddled onto my hip and Yujin-Noona pounced on my face.

"Don't worry baby, I'll guide you~," Karina-Noona assured.

Gaeul-Noona began riding the shit out of me as Yujin-Noona lowered her pussy onto my mouth forcing me to eat her out.

"Yes, just like that~. You like it, puppy~?" Karina-Noona asked with a grin.

"Y-Yes, it's so good~!" Yujin-Noona moaned.

Soon enough, both girls came at the same time and I drink all of her juices, Yujin-Noona switched places with Gaeul-Noona and Kazuha-Noona got onto my face.

"I hope I taste just as good, baby~," Kazuha-Noona said before lowering herself.

Eating her out as Yujin-Noona fucked me like it was the last thing she'd do on this planet, and just like before they both came at the same time.

Kazuha-Noona is truly something else because she tasted sweet and spicy, afterward, it was finally Karina's turn but instead of her womanhood she lowered her chest.

"Suck my tits, baby, make them yours~," She ordered and I did what she asked.

Sucking her right tit while my hand played with her left tit, she moaned loudly as Kazuha-Noona was having her round with me.

"Ahhh~! You're so damn big~!" Kazuha-Noona moaned.

"He's so perfect~! Can we keep him, Unnie~?" Yunjin-Noona asked and she smirked.

"Well, of course, we're keeping him," Chaewon-Noona answered and she cheered.

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

(End of Smut)

Catching my breath after doing all six girls, this is truly something I'm never going to forget, and I may be the luckiest man in this school.

"Did you enjoy your time with him, girls?" Chaewon-Noona asked and they nodded.

"Oh, yes we did, Unnie!" Karina-Noona answered while getting herself dressed.

"Me too!" Kazuha-Noona replied as well.

I was about to get up but Yujin-Noona stopped me in my tracks as she straddled onto my lap.

"You did amazing, baby~! Because of that, you're ours now meaning you're only allowed to have sex with us only." Yujin-Noona explained and my eyes widened.

The others girls smirked as Chaewon-Noona slowly approached me before gently grabbing a hold of my cheek and making me face her.

"And if we catch you interacting with another girl, will just simply punish you for it, now are you going to be a good boy for us~?" She asked and I nodded.

"Y-Yes, Noona..." I nervously answered and she smiled before pecking my lips.

"By the way, we noticed the tear marks on your face, did someone hurt you earlier?" Gaeul-Noona asked with concern and I suddenly remembered what happened.

"S-She..." I softly said.

"She what? It's okay, baby, you can tell us~," Kazuha-Noona assured and I sniffed.

"She cheated on me..." I finished and they clenched their fists.

"What?! Who's the bitch?!" Yunjin-Noona angrily asked and I flinched.

Thankfully, Chaewon-Noona and the others managed to calm her down before she could start a whole ass riot in the locker rooms.

"Sorry about her, baby, she can easily lose her temper sometimes. Now tell us, who was the one that broke your heart?" Karina-Noona asked and I deeply sighed.

"S-Solar..." I answered and she nodded.

"Hmph. I knew there was something fishy about her..." Gaeul-Noona commented.

The girls gathered in a group and began whispering to each other so that I can't hear, and once they were finished discussing they looked at me with evil grins.

"So baby, we've been discussing how we could cheer you up... Not that the fun we had earlier didn't help you forget about her but getting revenge." Chaewon-Noona informed me.

"H-How?" I nervously asked and she giggled.

"Glad you asked, baby boy, will be your dates to prom~," Yunjin-Noona answered and I gulped.

"Yeah, I bet Solar and her friends won't see this coming since they consider you a low-life and a nerd. Not only that, will make her jealous and we've got a special after-party event planned for her..." Kazuha-Noona explained.

"W-What is it?" I curiously asked.

"Now, now, this is a surprise just for you, so we won't spoil it, just play along and you'll find out," Chaewon-Noona answered and I nodded.

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

TIMESKIP

A week passed since I started dating the school's popular girls and cheerleaders, and tonight is prom night.

The girls have already picked out their dresses, Chaewon-Noona texted me that they'll pick me up at my house.

I replied to her text to confirm I'd read her message, I get myself dressed up in my tuxedo, making sure my tie is tied correctly and making sure everything looked sharp.

Waiting for many Noonas to pick me up, I looked out the window to see a fancy limousine pulled up in front of the house.

Chaewon-Noona texted me that they'd arrived, I exited my house, and I was baffled to be this up close with a limousine.

"Are you Master Y/N?" The driver asked.

"Y-Yes," I nervously answered.

"Very good, please get inside the vehicle," The driver instructed and I nodded.

Entering the limousine, I was shocked at the luxury stuff that was in there, a small bar, a mini fridge full of drinks, and even a small tv.

"Do you like it?" Yunjin-Noona asked.

"O-Of course, how can you girls afford this?" I curiously asked and they giggled.

"Well, our family is business people, hell, we could buy more than 10 Lamborghinis if we felt like it," Gaeul-Noona answered.

The driver then starts driving out of my neighborhood and onto the main road to the hotel where the prom is being hosted.

Once we pulled up to the drop-off zone, everyone was practically staring and admiring the fancy car.

"Don't be nervous, baby, I'll hold your hand~," Chaewon-Noona assured me as she gently takes a hold of my hand.

"Yeah, will protect you if anyone dares try to harm you," Yujin-Noona said and I thanked them.

The driver comes out and opens the doors for us, we stepped out, and everyone at first was cheering until they noticed me walking with them.

"Huh? What is the nerd doing with them?"

"Did he force them to go out with him?"

"Why is that loser holding hands with Queen Chaewon?"

Quickly the girls gave daggers to the gossipers and they instantly shut their mouths, even though this may hurt their popularity they could care less about what others think.

Checking in with the receptionists, we get our table number, and we get seated at our assigned table.

"Wow, love what they did to the place," Karina-Noona complimented as she checked out the decorations.

"Yeah, this is going to be a fun night," Kazuha-Noona replied.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" I hear a familiar voice I hope to never hear again and I turned around to see my ex-girlfriend Solar and her new boyfriend Jinwoo.

"What do you want, Solar?" I asked.

"Aw, still angry about before, Y/N, yes, I knew you were peaking at us on the rooftop, I wanted to see you suffer," Solar replied with an evil smirk.

Didn't take long for our interaction to grab the attention of my Noonas, they clenched their fists in anger, I'm sure they were ready to beat the living shit out of her and Jinwoo but I figured they have something else in mind.

"Ah, so you're the bitch that our baby has mentioned," Chaewon-Noona said and she raised an eyebrow.

"Tsk. Who are you, the Queen of the Cheerleaders be doing with a degenerate trash like him?" Solar asked and she warmly smiled.

"If you're looking for trash look inside your brain," She retorted and it pissed her off.

"What did you say?" Solar coldly asked.

"I think you heard her loud and clear you whore, oh, and Jinwoo still as desperate as ever? Hooking up with this loose pussy bitch how pitiful." Yunjin-Noona said as she grinned.

"Do you want to die, bitch?!" Jinwoo angrily ask as he raised his fists.

"Uh uh, think about this Jinwoo, are you going to punch a girl in front of everyone here~?" She pointed out and he groaned out of frustration as he knew she was right.

"This isn't over..." He warned.

The two dumbfucks walked away, joining their friends, leaving the girls with victory grins on their faces.

The rest of the night was pleasant and full of enjoyment, the first event of the prom was entertainment by a magician, dancers, and artists.

Afterward, we danced the night away, I take turns with my Noonas, however, as I was slow dancing with Karina-Noona, I noticed Jinwoo approaching us with his group.

Knowing well they aren't up to no good, I contemplated whether or not I should reveal my skills that were honed down by my ancestors.

I swore to myself that I'll never get into any fights no matter what but I love these girls with my heart and I can't bear seeing them hurt.

"Sorry, Karina, but you'll have to bear with me here..." I warned her and she looked confused.

"What do you mean?" She asked and I shoved her aside away from the fighting zone.

"You're going to die tonight, loser! After I'm done with you, I'm going fuck those girls' perfect bodies in front of you and there's nothing you can do about it!" Jinwoo threatened while cracking his knuckles and I sighed.

"Come on, Jinwoo, you're smarter than this, let's not do this," I reasoned and they laughed.

"Dude do you hear this guy!? What a wimp! Come on, let's get this over with!" MJ said.

"Y/N, get out of there! You don't stand a chance against them!" Gaeul-Noona pleaded and I shook my head.

"No, Noona, I'm not going to let these guys hurt you! I'm done with these assholes running the school and it ends tonight!" I replied.

"Ohohoho, we've got a tough guy here, aye? Come on, boys, let's put this nerd into his place!" Jinwoo said as they begin to surround me.

MJ strikes first by charging toward me to tackle me to the floor but I jumped and rolled over his kick making him crash into one of the tables.

Sanha tried to punch me but I countered it by parrying his fists and giving him a reverse punch and front-kicking him in the stomach causing him to stumble back.

"Oh come on, boys! You're seriously not going to let this nerd beat you?!" Jinwoo said.

Moonbin steps up and grabbed me from behind as Eunwoo to takes advantage of my vulnerability but I elbowed Moonbins face multiple times until he lets go of me.

Eunwoo was shocked that I managed to get rid of Moonbin but that leaves him vulnerable for a second more than enough time to strike.

When Eunwoo regains his composure it was too late as I jabbed and reversed punched him in the stomach and face before butterfly-kicking him to the face and knocking him out cold.

Jinwoo being the only one left to fight was left speechless that a nerd like myself defeated all four of his toughest guys.

"What's it going to be, Jinwoo, will you stop terrorizing us? Or will we have to do things the hard way?" I asked and he deeply sighed.

"F-Fine, I promise to leave everyone alone and I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused," He gave up and I grinned.

"Wise choice, but if I find out you're bullying another student, I'll break every damn bone in your body, got it?" I sternly asked and he viciously nodded.

Dragging his friends out of the dance floor, everyone began whispering and cheering as Jinwoo and his gang has finally been humiliated.

"B-Baby, since when can you fight like that?" Chaewon-Noona asked.

"It's a long story..." I answered.

"Well, we have our entire lives for you to explain your story," Kazuha-Noona mentioned.

For the rest of the night, we had a blast on prom night as the DJ tuned up the beats, and we danced until late at night.

However, there was still one last thing to do before we can conclude the night... My Noonas dragged Solar back to the hotel room we rented.

In other words, we all fucked in front of her and her face was priceless, getting a taste of her own medicine.

She claimed that she wouldn't be fazed by it at all since she doesn't love me anymore but that attitude of hers didn't last long.

After leaving her miserable and bitter, we kicked her out of the room, and I spent the night cuddling with my girlfriends.

"Baby, what's that poking at my thigh...?" Gaeul-Noona asked.

She looked under the blanket and saw my hard rod, she smirked and the girls instantly knew what was going on.

"Looks like your friend down there wants another repeat from the locker rooms~," Yunjin-Noona pointed out and I grinned.

"Well, what are we waiting for then?" I asked and they smiled.

[mccn-bcys]

JUST A TOUCH OF YOUR HAND pt. 3

pairing: moonboys x fem!reader

summary: jake finally makes his debut to ask the reader a question the boys have been dying to ask. reader gives her answer and jake is just a cutie.

warning: jake (he's a warning, yes), just some nice fluff for ya.

authors note: okay ik a lot of you have been wanting this chapter for a long time (sorry about the long wait, I had a lot going on the past couple of months). this chapter isn't as long as the others but it just felt right to have this one be short and sweet. the next chapter, maybe we'll see some more of marc 😏🤭

word count: 1,028

and then there was jake. it was funny actually. he'd been dreaming of meeting his soulmate since he had gotten the stain. and he had so badly wanted to meet you when you first brushed against their hand on the sidewalk that day.

god how he wanted to meet you. and yet he couldn't make himself front. even when steven or marc would hand it over to him, especially when you'd plan days to meet and spend with him, he just couldn't front.

none of them understood it. it's like he'd freeze up. it was eating him up. he was pretty sure he was in love with you – actually he was positive he was in love with you. and he'd never even actually met you!

you, being the amazing person you were, were so patient with him. whenever you'd see the boys on the days you were going to meet jake, and find out he wasn't fronting, you'd have marc or steven tell him you didn't mind waiting.

"you boys are all worth waiting for," you'd say, making them melt.

and jake would try more to front around you and it just wouldn't happen. he couldn't figure out why. although on a deeper level, he knew why.

he supposed he wasn't much different than marc. as much of a hopeless romantic as he was, he also knew his reputation. it was said reputation that caused him to romanticize the thought of a soulmate. he never really thought himself capable of being loved. if marc thought his hands were stained with blood, jake was swimming in it.

if he was realistic, he couldn't imagine why you would love him. he was ruthless, he could be cold, he had a tendency to shut people out if they got too close.

But he wanted you to get too close. He wanted to able to talk to you, learn about you and not through the other two. He wanted to hold you and comfort you, and be held and be comforted by you.

but like marc, he'd been scared. scared you'd run for it, if you knew him. everyone else did.

and yet here you were: sitting across the table, smiling so wide, eyes so patient, like he's your favorite person in the world. if you kept going, he's sure he would probably cry.

"jake?" you called cautiously, breaking him from his thoughts. his eyes snap to yours, smiling at you. he thinks: 'they're right...the way she says our names is addicting.'

"sí, amor?" he answers softly, but you seem to brighten up even more.

"yes," you simply said.

his eyebrows furrow. had he asked a question?

yes, you did, you bloody idiot!

holy shit...she actually said yes...

"yes?" he repeated, since his alters weren't helping him at all.

you laughed at that, at him seemingly forgetting his own question. he loved that sound.

"you asked me to move in," you reminded him patiently.

"and you said yes?"

"I did."

"but you don't know me," he tries to reason, because how on earth would you have agreed to move in with the mess of these three men?

"I know that i love marc and steven, and if I love them, i already love you too," were you trying to kill him?

"why?"

that threw you for a loop. you hadn't been expecting it. why did you love this man you've never actually met?

"well...for starters, we're soulmates-"

"that doesn't mean that I'm not a terrible person." steven had warned you of this. that he might try to talk of himself like this.

"but you're not-"

"you don't know that."

"except that I do."

"how could you possibly know that?"

"because I just do-"

"amor, that's not an answ-"

"I know because you're a weirdo who wears gloves while he drives a limo. You send a bouquet of my favorite flowers every time you can't front when we planned. I know because I can feel you follow me home every night after work when you're patrolling, making sure I get home safe. I know because marc's told me that you can't pass a cat without petting it. I know because I *know.* You're a *good man,* jake," you say, looking at him completely serious.

and for the first time in a long time, every voice in his head is silent. they're at a loss for words. there's this strange feeling in jake's heart and he's never felt it before.

what is that, he thinks.

that's love, jake.

it feels like a heart attack.

yeah...it's great, innit?

you watch him closely while he's silent, watching to see if you've overstepped somehow. to try and see what he's feeling. amd when he stands, you're worried he's leaving. that he's going to change his mind about wanting you to move in.

but he quickly crosses over to you and he cups your face, gentle as he is urgent, and leans down and kisses you, deeply, passionately. and for a moment, you're confused. but you quickly kiss him back, matching his energy, his passion. after a moment, he pulls away, both of you panting lightly, breathless from the kiss. he presses his forehead to yours, looking into your eyes so intensely you swear he can see your soul.

"te amo jodidamente mucho," he says, voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too," you say back softly, meaning every word.

jake has feel that twist in his heart again, but he knows what it is now. it's love. and it's strange and foreign but...he thinks he likes it. he feels like he's never smiled so wide in his life. he presses one more soft kiss to your lips before moving back to his seat at the table.

"so...tell me about these gloves you bought me," he grins.

and you start talking about them, explaining every detail about them and why you thought he'd like them. he swears he's never smiled so dopey in his life, talking to you about anything and everything you wanted to talk about. he'd finally fronted and he'll be damned if he doesn't take advantage of every single second he gets with you.

______________________________________________________________

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[shelby-fangirl00]

Hunting You-part one

•A successful assassin from London named Penny is hired to travel to Small Heath and kill Thomas Shelby. (Don’t want to give too much away tehe)

•WARNINGS(18+, minors DNI): Enemies to lovers, Dual POV, Smut (in future chapters), Lots of angst, Strong language, Lots of violence

•Authors note: hey y’all! This story has been brewing in my mind for some time.This part is kind of an introduction to my story. Reblog if you enjoy:) Next part will be in Tommy’s POV.

Penny

I checked my watch every few minutes for what seemed like an eternity. Plopping my elbows on the wooden table top, I huffed loudly. According to the dick who hired me, Shelby should’ve been here hours ago. Honestly, I didn’t mind waiting, since I was paid in advance, but my fingers still twitched in anticipation, eager to finally get my hands dirty again.

This was an ordinary night for me, except for the part where I had to travel into this piss poor town. Under any other circumstance, I would have told the man who hired me to fuck off. But how could I refuse such a hefty wage? Anyways, doing this out of town work only makes my job easier. At least that’s what I’m trying to tell myself. Nobody here seems sober enough to remember gossip about a hitman. Let alone talk of a random woman in a pub.

Killing Thomas Shelby will definitely make waves Small Heath, but thats not my problem. I’d be gone before sun rise. Talks of a female assassin surely hadn’t traveled to this poor drunken town anyways. It’ll be as if I was never here.

I nurse my glass of whiskey. Just as the rim of the glass touches my lips, I pull out the very dated photograph of Mr.Shelby I was given. I imagine he was just a boy in the photo. He appears to be in uniform and my chest tightens at the thought. I can only imagine the horrors he’s seen since this was taken. It wouldn’t surprise me if the man today doesn’t resemble this photograph at all.

The doors open for the first time in an hour and I hear the booming laughter before I see the lot of them. A large group of nicely dressed men in caps waltz in and I assume this to be the notorious Peaky Blinders. Of course I did some research before coming here. They were feared throughout this place. Known to be unforgiving and ruthless. This Shelby man I’m sure is a sick and twisted bastard. All the best men I know are. I myself am a bit sick and twisted.

Hiring a female hitman, like myself, had different perks. It’s far easier for a woman to get close to a man they don’t know. They don’t see us in the same light. We come off as less of a threat. In my experience, no man is immune to the powers a beautiful woman can possess over a man, in the right circumstances. Thomas Shelby couldn’t be any different from the rest of them.

I straightened my back and fell into the role I’d been assigned. My long black dress hugs my waist and my thigh is bare under the slit of my gown.

My eyes search for someone loosely similar to the photograph, maybe with a beard and some extra weight, but there’s so many men now crowding my view. Eventually, I hear a loud voice yell for a “Tommy.”

Gotcha.

The men seem to part perfectly and I have a clear view of him. I see the not-so-young-boy who grew into this apparently fearsome man.

My blood runs cold and I curse under my breath. To put it plainly, the man is fucking gorgeous. His stature radiates confidence while his presence demands respect.

He’s aged nicely, his cheekbones even more pronounced now. Even from my small booth in the corner, I notice his dazzling blue eyes. Out of all the men here, why did it have to be this one? Most of the men I’m hired to kill are assholes who don’t deserve to see the sun again. I hope he’s the same.

I beeline to a nearby group of drunk and smelly men. I pretend to walk past them and “trip,” over one of the chairs, spilling my whiskey out onto an old man’s shoulder.

“Stupid bitch!” The man attempts to stand up and almost falls on his ass. I try to muffle my laughter. I wish I could kill this one too, it would be too easy.

“I’m so sorry, sir!” I plead with him and he finally steps closer to me, trapping my body against another table. His stench is repulsive and it takes every bit of willpower inside of me not to put a bullet through this fuckers head. I momentarily get lost in the thought, his greasy face would downturn and the life would drain from his angry expression before he dropped dead.

My hands press down into the table as he spits at me. He grabs my wrist tightly before speaking again.

“You’ll fuckin pay for that, girl. Why don’t you join me and-

A hand covers the man’s shoulder, squeezing harshly before speaking. As if the man has eyes in the back of his head, he freezes and turns slowly, like he knows exactly who the hand on his shoulder belongs to.

“Alright, Tim?” A low but smooth voice asks. My breath hitches in my throat and I don’t really need to pretend how scared I am anymore.

“Of course, Mr.Shelby. Just teaching this one a lesson in manners.” The big oaf states confidently.

For the first time, Mr.Shelby’s eyes lock with mine and I suddenly forgot how to breath or blink or function at all. He’s even more stunning this closeup. He examines me for an uncomfortable amount of time before speaking again.

“I don’t think that’ll be nessacary Timmy. Why don’t you go back to your table and let me handle it?” This Tim man peaks at Tommy from behind his shoulder and I can tell this is an order. Tim finally releases my wrist and grunts, giving me one last look that makes me feel dirty, and stumbles off.

I exhale loudly, pretending to finally relax.

“Thank you, sir. I was worried I wouldn’t get out of that one.” I stated, chuckling lightly under my breath.

“No trouble, Tim’s an angry drunk. He won’t remember ya tomorrow.” His words sit in the air between us awkwardly before I decide to speak again.

“I’m Nora.” I lie.

I stick my hand out and smile stupidly. This takes him back but he recovers quickly, smirking and pressing his hand in mine firmly.

“Tommy. You aren’t from here…don’t tell me you actually moved to Small Heath on your own free will.” He chuckles darkly, placing his half empty glass between his lips and searching my eyes for an answer. He looks similar to the picture, more dead in the eyes now. No less mesmerizing.

I laugh. “Thankfully, no. I’m just here visiting an old friend. How’d you know?” I place my own glass to my lips now, scanning the room behind him.

He smirks, finally letting his eyes drop for a split second to my chest.

Shrugging his shoulders plainly, he states, “It’s a small town and I’ve lived here me whole life. I would’ve known if someone like you lived here.”

My eyebrows arch in question. “Someone like me, yeh?”

He smiles slowly, but it’s dark, almost like a warning. I don’t understand why I’m suddenly so clammy?

I need to get this over with. My body is betraying me, because all I can think about are his lips and how they would feel on mine and what his chest looks like underneath all those damn layers.

Giving in only slightly to my body’s demands, I take one big step into him, putting my chest inches from his own. I look up at him with a dazzling smile, and he just smirks. Does he always have that smug fucking look on?

“Well thank you for saving me, Tommy.” His eyebrows shoot up in what I’m assuming is surprise?

“Another whiskey?” He asks, stepping past me towards the bar and nodding to the barman.

I take in his stature beside me, leaning his forearms against the long bar. As much as I would love to entertain this handsome stranger, I had a job to do.

I squeeze his shoulder, leaning into him so my lips barely touch his ear.

“Excuse my forwardness, but I’d rather take you back to my flat, Tommy.” I squeeze his shoulder one last time before stepping back.

He cranes his neck to look behind him at I don’t know what before returning back to me.

“I like forward. Lead the way, love.” Finally, this can end.

“Of course…” I say sheepishly and he doesn’t hesitate to follow closely behind, his hand resting on my lower back. The sensation sends a shiver up my spine.

As we trot outside, he moves his hand from my back to behind his own and i do the same. I silently acknowledge the few daggers I have hidden in my stockings along with the gun in my purse….aaaaaand maybe a few razor blades underneath my pinned updo. It’s just a precaution, really. I can never be too safe. Plus, it’s fun to switch it up every once and a while.

“Where ya staying?” He asks smoothly as we round the dark corner.

“Just across the p- the air is quickly swept from my lungs as Thomas grabs me from behind and slams my body against a brick wall. I gasp as both of his hands wrap around my throat and he never stops squeezing.

Fuck. He knows.

Panic sets in and I’m clawing at his arms desperately. I try to maneuver my legs in order to knee him, but his body is flush against my own.

“thought it be that easy to kill me? You’re at the back of a long line, love.”

I muster up enough rage in my throat to spit out a “fuck you.”

My hands could only reach his side, so I wail on him. As soon as my punch lands, I feel another pair of hands on me, pinning my arms over my head. Thomas bends for only a few seconds before spitting and regaining hold over me.

I look over to see the other man pinning me against the wall. He’s younger than Thomas, but sporting a similar smirk.

If I don’t finish this job, Tommy will kill me. And if he doesn’t, the man who hired me would. Especially after being paid in advance.

I felt myself slipping from the lack of oxygen. But just as I closed my eyes, Tommy released me but the other man stays put to my side, his hands tighten around my wrists and his chest is pressing into my arm.

Tommy turns back around, adjusting his coat and lighting a cigarette before examining my flesh, the way my dress had fallen open at my chest during our scuffle.

“Who hired you?” He asked plainly.

My chest was heaving and I swear his eyes followed the movement for a split second.

“How should I fucking know? A man overpays me in advance for a hit and I don’t ask questions.”

The man holding my body hostage against the brick wall, bellows out an annoying laugh but Tommy doesn’t so much as smirk.

He sighs before reaching inside of his coat and pointing the barrel of his gun at me.

I giggle, cocking my head and studying him now. “You ever killed a woman, Mr.Shelby?”

“Enough. Tell me his name or I’ll put a bullet between those pretty eyes.” He says, almost softly, like he’s seducing me instead of trying to kill me. I hate how my thighs clench together and my nipples harden under my dress. All this foreplay tonight between the gun, the two angry men holding me against a wall and a touch of breath play.

“Promise?” I don’t know how, but I knew he wouldn’t shoot.

He sticks his gun back into his holster from underneath his coat before speaking again.

“John, put her to sleep and tie her up.” And before I could even protest, the man’s hands move from my wrists to around my skull, slamming it into the brick wall. Everything goes black. I never stood a chance.

Part two coming soon in Tommy’s POV!

Taglist:

@lyarr24

@forgottenpeakywriter

@casa-boiardi

@tigernach575

@crabat-the-queen

@adaydreamaway08

@everysage

@yurmomsawh0r

@delusionalxoxo

@trixie23

@star017

@bbuckysslutt

[zileans-big-cl0ck]

✦–Dirty talk with League men (how do they call you and how do they want to be called in bed).✦ NSFW

✦Basically praise kink.

✧ prompt: ✧ I had this laying in my drafts for, like, eternity, so I’m not quite sure how did I come up with this. Prob my voice kink kicked in.

✧ champions: ✧ Zed, the Master of Shadows; Thresh, the Chain Warden; Kayn, the Shadow Reaper; Talon the Blade’s Shadow; Shen, the Eye of Twilight.

✧ reader: ✧ female.

✧ warnings: ✧ obvi NSFW; dirty talk; praise kink; sub!Kayn because I love him being submissive; degradation; bondage; Thresh is a sadistic brat.

✧ author’s note: ✧ ignore any mistakes since I'm too tired to read this for the third time or smth. And please don't eat me alive for Kayn's part, I have like two other drafts with sub!Kayn headcanons for the appreciation of a dom!reader, which we need more‼️

masterlist

✦Zed, the Master of Shadows.

Zed can do both: if you enjoy degrading, he will call you a slut or a bitch, but if you prefer soft petnames, something more subtle and fragile, he can call you his little shadow.

He isn’t really talkative, especially in bed. The Master of Shadows usually keeps on his mask of a stoic, ruthless person, silent and deadly. He lets out some heavy grunts of frustration thought.

But your apperance makes him feel different. Complitely different.

He can be a real dirt talker when desired. Whispering in your ear sweet promises of the things he is going to do to you, when you sit obediently on his lap.

You are going to melt in his hands from his voice only anyway.

As for him, he doesn't need you speaking to him during sex. Zed enjoys your cries and moans, there is no need for rushed words.

But he has one weakness, that he would never admit outloudly.

Call him Master, as his official title states, from time to time. And watch him tensing from your subtle tease.

Moan Master Zed and he will be yours for a while. Hopeless and lost in your innocent being that admits his supremacy, so alluring.

✦Thresh, the Chain Warden.

This sadistic demon would probably call you something simillar to his own property. It is a well known fact how controlling he is, as he treats the petty souls of those who lost them to him like pathetic objects.

Therefore, a pathetic little soul would work too.

But on the other hand, Thresh doesn’t want you to adress him at all.

He wants you to be all chained up in a convoluted position, with something in your mouth so you can't mutter a single word.

The only sounds he demands are the cries of yours, either of pleasure or from pain that is caused by his tortures.

So no talking back. No calling him. Only painful screams and your chained body under him, fetching and gorgeous, yet moving away from the touch of his cold claws.

His plaything.

✦Kayn, the Shadow Reaper.

Starting with what he would love to hear from you pretty mouth…

Please, call him a good boy.

Call him handsome. Call him yours and yours only.

But call him a good boy. And he will become a hopeless mess under your body.

It makes him feel appreciated and adored by you, the person his soul crawls for. When you take care of him, when you are so gentle…

Oh, it is impossible for him to not call you mommy. If you enjoy it, of course.

He would mutter the sweet name out of his breath, while you ride him.

✦Talon, the Blade’s Shadow.

Some would call him eternal silent, maybe even grumpy. But he is just not used to a genuine company of a caring human being.

Every segment of his body was made for killing, his devotion - the job of an assassin.

But he is capable of love - the fire kind, full of sacred desire that ends his continency that had been made to prevent him from wandering off from the path of a killer. Greedy and possessive, where he wants your body under his own to claim you whole, mark as his, force you to stay by his side.

Under the cover of a private room, he becomes a tease. Talon finds your whimpers adorable whenever he whisper a husky good girl into your ear.

On the other side, you hear him saying ’my name doesn’t matter’ in different situations, official or not, definitely too many times. So you make sure to moan his name in the moments of pleasure, when you bury your face in the pillow of your bed, feeling the sensation building up in your core, hearing the obscene sounds of melting bodies.

And it touches his weak spot. To have his name on your lips, cherished, adored.

✦Shen, the Eye of Twilight.

He is a gentleman, a sweetheart and the most respectful man you know - he would never dare to degrade you in any possible situation.

Therefore Shen is more eager to call you ma’am or love, or with the relationship ongoing - just a simple my gorgeous wife.

When it comes to petnames, he is a simple man - he desires a sweet and adoring confession, like handsome or just his own name. It always sounds heavenly when it comes as a hot whisper of pleasure from your mouth.

[frankcastleonlyfans]

Dad!Daemon as a disciplinarian and head of household

Do you think he has a hands on or off approach to parenting and discipline/teaching? (From the last ep it was def hands off … actually neglect but idk what the writers were doing). And how do you think he works with his partner in teaching and raising their children? Does he run his family with his same aggressive-“my way or the Highway”-behavior he shows in his earlier years or has children made him do a 180?

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍

pairing: dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. i hope you like it!

author's note: I'm in writing process of other dad!daemon requests stuff, but listen, your idea is AMAZING!!! And it fits really well in headcanon format. So here's what I think about Daemon's parenting.

gif by @daenerys-stormborn

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ୨♡୧ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

During your first pregnancy, Daemon found himself in a crisis.

He had no idea how to be a father.

He was a ruthless warrior, for gods' sake! He never took care of children before.

He wasted time trying to remember some of his brother's actions when Rhaenyra was young, but that was no example for him.

Viserys is a king, so it was never expected of him to take care of his daughter, or even educate her. And he never did.

Daemon remembers his father really well. He was 20 when Baelon passed away, and that's the only example of parenting he had.

Daemon knew in his heart he had a great father, and that's what he wanted to be for his children.

You were a few moons away from giving birth, and your husband couldn't stop babbling about baby names, and picking a good dragon egg to place in the crib, and fantasizing about taking the child to meet Caraxes, and...

Honestly, you couldn't wait for the child to be born.

And when Rhaegon finally arrived into your life, Daemon became everything he said he would be.

He was terrified at first. The man had no idea how to hold a child, he only held swords in his entire life.

But eventually he figured it was easier than it looked like.

Years later, Daemon learned that taking care of a child and raising a child are two completely different things.

Rhaegon was three when you had your baby girl, Alyssa.

Daemon fell in love. And when her little hands touched his face for the first time, he felt loved.

The Rogue Prince couldn't be burned by fire, but time was the thing that made his heart ache.

Alyssa was growing up quickly, and Daemon felt the years passing by like a sharp valyrian blade cutting through his skin.

In the eyes of her father, Alyssa Targaryen was perfect. She had your beauty, your delicacy, but she also had his temper.

"But I told you not to play in the dragonpit!" Daemon scolded her while washing her dust stained platinum hair.

"Aegon said it would be fun!" Alyssa retorted.

"Dreamfyre is not to play with, she could have burned you. And, you shouldn't be with Aegon, I don't want you near him again. He's much older than you."

"But why is it a problem?" The little girl protested.

"Because I said so."

"But why?! Aegon is funny, and Rhaegon doesn't let me play with him and Luke and Jace. At least Aegon doesn't make me wanna smack his face like Rhaegon does." Alyssa murmured.

"Alyssa, don't say that! And certainly, do not hurt your brother. Listen, I'm gonna talk to him, okay? But you need to promise me that you'll never listen to Aegon again. Do not trust that kid, none of them."

Daemon couldn't bear the thought of his eight year old daughter hanging around the thirteen year old prince. He knew Aegon was some kind of pervert, and he did not wanted that boy near his little girl.

Daemon never lost his temper with his kids.

He feared that someday they would be scared of him.

But he knew how to lecture his children.

"Your sister told me you don't let her play with you and Rhaenyra's boys. Mind tell me why's that?"

"She's a girl! She could be playing with Helaena, why do I have to play with her?" Rhaegon rolled his eyes.

"Because she is your sis– Did you just roll your eyes at me?" Daemon stared at his son with a menacing gaze that immediately made the boy shake.

"N-no...?"

"I think you did. I think you rolled your eyes at me, Rhaegon." Daemon gave one step ahead, and his giant form towered the boy's body.

"I'm sorry, father. I'll ask Alyssa to play with Jace, Luke and me."

"You better, boy." Daemon said with a stern voice before leaving the room.

You tried not to interfere in Daemon's way of scolding the kids, but if you thought he was being too much, then you would say something.

Sometimes he would make the children eat alone in their chambers if they'd misbehave.

Sometimes he would make them do chores.

Sometimes he would just ground them in their rooms.

But he never, ever, raised his hand to touch one of his children.

Daemon had killed so many men in battle, but had never hurt a child in his whole life. He intended to stay that way.

Daemon Targaryen could be many terrible things, but he certainly was not a bad father.

He would rather die before hurting one of his children.

And when Maegon was born, he couldn't wait to go through the beginning of parenting all over again.

[wongyuseokie]

Crossing Lines | w.j.h

Summary: Your boss is a dangerous man, and you foolishly messed up his schedule, now he’s pissed and you’re the only one that can fix the problem you caused. 

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut | ☁︎ angst |  ♥ completed works

Word Count:  2516 words

Pairings: Mafia! Wen Junhui x Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Fluff, angst (minor), smut. PWP (it’s got the briefest plot ever) Content Warnings: Jun is a member of the mafia or an organised crime unit, I guess. It’s never really discussed. Think Vincenzo. Mentions of blood and death (nothing descriptive). A knife is used to take off a shirt, but there’s no blood. Is cuddling a warning? Jun is actually just a softie too. Jun threatens to kill her once, but it's part of the dirty talk. She calls him sir but it’s not kinky. 

Smut Warnings: Dom!Jun, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, use of a scarf as a gag, fingering. Unprotected sex (don’t do this folks), minor knife play. Name-calling. Multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting. Dirty talk. 

Authors Note: Honestly, I've been bias wrecked so so badly by this man I want to cry. This fic came to life because of @flurrys-creativity sending me thirst traps and giving me scenarios, and somehow it became a full-blown fic and reading this, too 💕 . Thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for beta'ing this. You brought my smut back to life and made it much more sense. Thank you, my lovely!! 💕 I shall send you more DK thirst traps as a thank you. Thank you also to @here4btsfics for always letting me thirst and cry over Jun because, look at him, thank you for reading and thirsting over Jun with me ❤️ Authors Note 2: Tagging my lovely June @junkissed-replies ❤️

Banner Credits: @classicscreations Cross Posted on AO3 © wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

Working for Seoul’s most notorious crime family wasn’t exactly easy. Being designated as the personal assistant to the family's youngest member was even less ideal. Wen Junhui, typically known only as Jun, was the definition of a walking juxtaposition. His doe eyes sparkled like the night sky, and his body made you ache, with abs sculpted by gods and thighs you wanted to ride until you came all over his trademark black skinny jeans. 

On the other end of the spectrum was Jun’s job, which he referred to as more of a  hobby—killing people. He was ruthless. Noone dared cross him. One wrong word, the slightest misstep, and the poor bastard would be dead on the floor of his den before he could even realize his mistake. 

You had grown oddly accustomed to his brutalities. He had a job, and so did you. Your job was to make sure his demands were met, no matter what they were, so you didn’t become another name in a long list of kills. Except he had a soft spot for you. Or maybe it was that you made something on this already hard man even harder. There was a mutual attraction between you two that you never dared act on. The man was dead inside. 

Today was not a good day. You had checked and double-checked Jun’s schedule, but there was still some miscommunication. Whatever it was led Jun to believe you fucked up his meeting plans with his biggest rival. 

In this world, it meant that he deferred the meeting, which made him a pussy. He was not happy. Actually, that was an understatement. Jun was fuming. In one of those cartoons, smoke would come out of his ears. It would be comical if it weren’t for the fact that he literally killed for a living. 

“Y/N, step into my office now, shut the door, and lock it.” 

You felt chills down your spine and wondered if this was it for you. You’d be dead. He got up from his seat, and damn, why did he have to look so criminally good? All previous fear subsided, at least for a moment, as you took in his appearance. He had his signature leather jacket on with ripped jeans. You cursed your body for being such a traitor, clenching at the sight of him. Jun walked towards you,  eyes trained on you as if you were a target. 

Correction: you were his target. He stopped close to you, too close for the thoughts racing through your head. You could feel his breath on your face. Again, fuck your body for being so turned on when he was looking at you like prey. He placed one arm next to you, both showing his dominance and caging you in. His other one fished his dagger out of his scabbard. Fuck, okay, maybe you were really in trouble. 

He twirled the knife through his fingers with practised ease, making you wonder how many times he’d done it. Actually, it made you wonder how they’d feel in your pussy. You cursed yourself again, telling yourself to get it together. You legitimately might die, and all you could think of was those perfect fingers fucking you. At least your body and mind were in agreement on this one, behaving as inappropriately as possible. 

“Y/N, you messed up my meeting, and now everyone is calling me a pussy.” The knife stilled between his fingers as he spoke.

“Sir, I’m sorry I scheduled your meeting properly, but it just got miscommunicated somehow, and I’m so sorry,” your voice came out in a squeak, and you were fucking scared.

“Did you hear me properly, pretty girl?” That was new. He’d called you a lot of things, but certainly not pretty girl. You nodded, trying to make sense of the nickname. 

“Now, how do I punish you?” He cocked his head to the side like he might be trying to tease you. Except, you knew he used the same line on his victims.

“Sir, it won’t happen again,” you begged.

 “You’re right. It won’t,” he said as he pulled a scarf out of his pocket. You thought it was the same one he used to suffocate those unlucky enough to wind up on his bad side.

“Open your mouth, baby girl,” he demanded. Despite the words, it was a demand. There was no room for negotiation. 

 “Sir, please, I’m so so sorry. never happen again, I swear.” 

His eyes went dark. Not only did you talk back to him, but you defied an order. No one did that, not to him. He took his knife and raised it to your neck. 

Jun slowly trailed the knife down your throat, not breaking your skin, until he reached the top of your shirt. In one clean move, showing a deadly skill, he sliced your shirt open and left you standing there in a black lace bra.

“Do you wear clothes like this so someone can fuck you? Do you know what happens to girls that dress like sluts?” His eyes were on the knife as it trailed down your abdomen as if he didn’t expect any answers. 

“No, Jun, please.” 

He dropped the knife, and his hand went to your throat. The pressure was…actually kind of nice. Well, it would’ve been if you weren’t so scared.

“You are mine. Anyone I hire is my property, so you will do what I say. Speak one more time, and I will kill you, make no mistake. Understood?” You nodded. The rational part of you fought off tears because this man and his reputation were terrifying.

The irrational part of you was turned on, arousal dripping into your panties.

“Open your mouth.” 

You did as he said and tied the scarf tight over your mouth, effectively gagging you. Jun picked up his knife again and sliced your bra open.

“Fuck, Y/N, such pretty little tits. You kept them from me all this time.” He flicked your nipple. You stifled a moan, the irrational winning out. 

Jun smirked, “you can make all the noise you want. Scream if you want. No one will save you. The gag might make it difficult to say much, though.” 

He dropped to his knees and pulled your skirt down. He helped you out of it and groaned at your matching black lace underwear. It was impossible to miss the way your arousal dripped from your cunt onto your thighs. 

Jun grabbed your panties, ripped them, and then slid them off. You barely had a second to consider how counterproductive it was. He stood back up and stripped himself. That sent your mind further into overdrive because you’d seen him shirtless many times, but naked? This would be the first. The second he was bare before you, your eyes went to his penis. It was beautiful–long, hard, and thick. You squirmed in excitement at how it was going to ruin you, how he would ruin you. 

Without a word, Jun grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you onto his shoulders so that he could place you down against his marble table. You were face down, breasts against the cool surface of the marble and hips pressing into the edge. Still dripping in arousal, you had to remind yourself who was standing behind you. This man could kill you just as easily as he could fuck you. You were still considering which way it might go when his hand made sharp contact with your exposed cheek.

“Pretty sluts get this.” 

You trembled and let out a strangled moan. You felt Jun turn you around. Your ass pressed into the table. He removed the scarf around your mouth and kissed you. Despite his demeanour, the kiss was soft and tender as his lips moved against yours. He swiped your lower lip with his tongue, begging for entrance, which you happily granted. He used his tongue to deepen the kiss. 

Suddenly, he pulled away from your mouth and kissed along your jawline, nibbling on your earlobe. His lips moved down to your neck, and he started to suck at the sensitive skin, leaving bite marks as he went. God, your neck would be covered in shades of blue and purple. Not that you cared. 

He moved down to your breasts, flicking his tongue over your nipple. It was a lot of attention as he sucked and gently nibbled each before moving further down your body. By his mouth reached your pussy, you were dripping wet for him. 

Wasting no time, Jun pushed you up, so you were now sitting on the table, the sensation of the cold marble on your bare skin heightening your pleasure. His mouth returned to your cunt, licking into it with quick movements. He flicked his tongue on your clit, then enclosed his lips around it and started to suck. Simultaneously, he put one finger into your cunt and started thrusting. The thrusts only got faster when he saw how immediate your reaction was. His tongue continued moving against your clit as he added another finger. You were going to cum far sooner than you wanted to if he kept this up.

The pace was brutal, and Jun was relentless, not missing a beat as he added another finger. This was so much more than you were used to. Even with the addition of another finger, he kept his tongue working on your clit, alternating between quick flicks and sucking. You wanted to reach out for some sort of support that you knew wasn’t there.

Jun knew you needed support and didn’t care, determined to punish you for your mistake. He wrapped his free arm around your waist, rendering you immobile, and continued the nearly exhausting pace. You found purchase in his hair, the only way to stabilize for even a second. Something finally snapped, and you came hard. You tried to move Jun away from your pussy, it was too sensitive for him to be continuing like he was. 

Except, he showed no mercy. His fingers continued to pump into you, and his face stayed anchored between your legs. It was like he took pleasure in your whimpers as he pushed you even further. He pulled a second orgasm out of you as the screams fell from your lips.  Still, he didn’t relent, continuing to eat you out like you were his favourite meal. You were overstimulated and could feel yourself clenching again another orgasm approaching. When you tried to wriggle free, Jun only gripped your waist harder, pressing you further into the table. 

Finally, he pulled away from your cunt, removing the leg that was draped over his shoulder and wiping his chin unceremoniously. Your whole body was shaking as you tried to breathe deeply enough to recover. It was stupid to think he’d let you do that, though. 

Jun pulled you off the table and turned you back around, once again pushing your body down on the cold marble table. He pushed his cock into you from behind. There wasn’t even time to adjust to his size before he began fucking into you. He knew exactly where to hit, once again setting an impossible pace. You tried to grab the edges of the table and steady yourself as he slammed into you. He fucked you until you hit your fourth orgasm, something you were really enjoying despite the way your body protested the overstimulation. But, fuck did this guy’s stamina go through the roof or something? Before you could process that thought, he turned you around again, so you were lying flat on your back on the table. 

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t give you any time to adjust or catch your breath. Not that you cared, really, you were so blissed out. He pushed his cock inside you, and somehow the pace was even more animalistic as he pounded into your overstimulated body. You let your eyes fall shut, head lolling back, and received a sharp slap against your pussy.

“Look at me when I fuck you, baby,” he demanded. His grip on your waist was so strong that you imagined his fingertips would leave bruises. Your whole body was going to be covered. 

Jun’s breathing got more laboured, and you knew he was finally close. His thrusts became erratic, the final thrust allowing him to release inside of you. Despite his release, he didn’t let you relax as he quickly pushed two fingers inside you. The thrusts caught you off guard, and he curled his fingers to hit you just right each time. You let out a scream as you squirted all over his hands, signalling your fifth orgasm for the night. 

The next morning you woke up wrapped in a soft duvet, not entirely remembering how you had managed to get to the bed. Your entire body was exhausted from the night before, and you thought you could have slept through the rest of the day. Except someone was pressing soft kisses between your shoulder blades. 

“Morning beautiful.” 

You shot up at the sound of Jun’s voice, regretting that decision as your whole body was bruised and battered from the previous night. You tried to clumsily climb out of bed. Jun was quicker, gently grabbing you and pulling you into his arms. 

“I know I went off last night. I lose control when it comes to my work. Sorry that I took it out on you, but you did seem to enjoy it,” Jun explained with a smirk on his handsome face, but you could hear the sincerity in his voice. 

“It’s okay, Sir, I’m sorry, I won’t ever make a mistake again.” you apologised. You were unsure where you stood now, despite the lesson he’d taught you. 

“No, Y/N, you won’t because you don’t work for me anymore.” 

Your eyes filled with tears. Not only did you need the money, but you also enjoyed last night far more than you should have. The thought of not seeing Jun anymore stung. Jun took notice of your reaction and tightened one arm around you, cupping your face with the other. 

“I mean, I don’t want my girlfriend working for me. I know my job isn’t…traditional, but you’ve seen a lot while working for me. I do like you. I guess yesterday. I truly realised how much I care. But if this is too much, you can ignore the offer and keep your job.” 

“Sir, I-“ you started, unsure what to say. 

“It's Jun, sweet girl. I promise I’ll be there for you and protect you,” Jun interrupted, everything about him much softer than you’d seen before. 

“I know it's a little unconventional, considering I fucked the absolute life out of you, but may I please take you on a date? Your final role as my assistant could just be letting me know if I’m free tonight” 

“You are, and it's a date,” you replied, snuggling further into his embrace. His hold was so soft, and you were so content that you drifted back to sleep, hoping this hadn’t all been a dream.

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Sung Jinwoo Assassin Au: Part 1◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[tw: gore, extreme violence, sadistic Jinwoo. Inspired From Manhwa: Killer Peter.]‼️

╰┈➤ ❝ [ The Emperor of the Dark Hours; The True Nightmare of the Witching Hours.] ¡! ❞

Stripped of his right to live as a child, a poor soul entangled in the curse of the devil as someone unfortunately chosen to be a vessel of a secret organization who's sole purpose is to be a breeding grounds for war machines— This was the life 10 year old Sung Jinwoo had found himself stuck in.

He hated his life, oh how he resented the world and cursed it's existence. But what was he to do? He was taken away from his family and reportedly they had died in the hands of his puppeteers.

He had no home to go back to.

So he spent his life perfecting the art of murder, his animosity has been bred to its full extent since at the ripe age of 21— Jinwoo had already climbed his way into being the most powerful assassin the underworld never have fathomed.

Jinwoo was ruthless with his assassinations, he spares no mercy with his targets. Not even giving them the luxury of screaming for their life. The moment their mouths open— Their head would already be rolling on the floor while the rest of their bodies would stand in an eerie stance as blood sputters out of it like a delicate fountain.

It was mercy if you had been able to even realize your upcoming doom, most of the time his targets would have died without even realizing the cause.

One minute you could be indulging in a fine wine imported from the best, the next, you're already in purgatory.

All while your killer takes the bottle of red liquid and pours himself a drink, indulging in the taste of fine luxury, gulping it down with his adam's apple moving so sensuously in his throat before throwing the glass away on the floor so lazily.

Nobody had ever seen his face, nor could the authorities ever dare to bring him to justice.

Jinwoo was too clever, too smart, too calculating.

His crimes had always been perfect, making it more frustrating for them to try and capture him.

So they stopped trying, stopped attempting to find the devil of the witching hours.

50 years. He ruled for 50 years until all of the sudden his activities were put to an eerie stop.

No client could find him, not even his former bosses could look for him. His face was just all too well hidden.

Jinwoo grew up to be a retired old man running a tiny little shop in a small neighborhood. Though he was a quiet and reserved man, the neighbours adore his meals.

Such a shame that a man like him would be so secretive and quiet. Though, he did have a weak spot for children. For once, the people around him would see a glimmer of gentleness spread across the old man's stone-cold features.

The little boys and girls remind Jinwoo of his dear baby sister who he accompanied all the time to watch little girl movies and played with her dolls.

His life was peaceful for another five years.

That was,... Until all of the sudden, his humble little shop got infiltrated by a bunch of thugs.

Jinwoo tried to fight them back, but oh his brittle bones and already scrawny body failed to fight against the young ones who thrashed him around like a pathetic ragdoll.

As a last effort to escape with his little life, Jinwoo threw hot sauce in their eyes just so he can slip away into the darkness.

He ran and ran until he crashed into the field of wheat. The dirt and grime stuck on his old and withered body as he stared up at the beautiful night sky above his head.

How pretty were the stars are, the only salvation for a man like him who lived in bloodshed and despair.

It was a rightful ending for the Emperor of the night, no longer will he plague the witching hours with his brutality—

A pathetic goodbye for a man who has never lived.

He thought of his baby sister, had she lived she would be married by now and having a child of her own and grandchildren of her children. He thought of his loving mother, who cradled him in the darkest of nights and soothed his nerves from his nightmares. He thought of his father, the man he admired the most for his kindness.

The consciousness of the old man slipped away in an instant, a fleeting farewell to the hell he has come to call 'Home.'

Or so he thought.

Jinwoo jolted awake, his head hammering so painfully as he regained his senses.

It went on like that for a few seconds before a female voice scolded him out of nowhere.

"Oppa! How long are you gonna laze around there like a caterpillar!!! You have work to do!!" A female girl, presumably 17 or so, scolds him with an angry pout.

Jinwoo stared at her emptily, dumbfounded at her appearance. Jet-black hair and grey eyes that strongly resembled him, a face as pretty as his mother when she was young in his vivid memories— Jinah.

"Whatever, stop staring like that and I will be off to school now! And don't kill yourself while hunting!"

"G-Goodluck at school." Jinwoo manages to stammer out in his flustered state. Jinwoo watched his little sister leave his room, feeling lightheaded with how surreal everything is.

How badly did he want to run up to her and hug her tightly. But his legs were shaking too much. After a while of contemplating. He got up from his bed and navigated the small apartment to look for the bathroom.

After a while, he managed to find it. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, cold grey eyes looking at a figure of a scrawny adult who looked like he was just 15 or 16.

He sighed, running his hand back at his hair as he mumbled under his breath: "What a scrawny little brat this body is. Fuck—"

Jinwoo suddenly toppled over, groaning in pain as his head suddenly had a massive migraine. Memories were pouring. They were his but not really his.

It was the memory of the former Sung Jinwoo, the scrawny owner of this pathetic body.

Dungeons, monsters, death, death, D E A T H.

"Huu...." The migraine subsided, a smirk forming on Jinwoo's face as he ran his hand on his hair. "It's like a game, and this bloody thing that keeps annoying me all morning"

His gaze then turned towards the notification window that was floating in front of him, "Jinah couldn't see this. I guess it's only available for me?..."

"I guess it's time to work again."

[kinghe]

Mariner's Rinds 3.6k words | Wriothesley/Neuvillette tags: sexual content, dubious consent, dom/sub undertones

Happy birthday to my dearest @denimecho, my sweet cheese. My good time boy. This is fic based on his beautiful Wriollette artwork.

.

The Fortress of Meriopode: the imposing stronghold in abyssal drink, a long-standing and lone custodian. The principle of such a being meant protection for those of the outside world or a cautionary tale. Thus, the wonders of the institution were unknown to the general public and untouched by the hand of the judicial court. Insofar as it involved the affairs of the underground, it was Wriothesley’s domain. Except the Iudex stood at the threshold of his office, looking as discrepant in all his glory as he always did.

“Well,” Wriothesley said with raised brow, “this is a surprise.”

"Hello," Neuvillette stepped forward like a haze, slow and uninterrupted. 

“Hello?" Wriothesley smiled, "I welcome you with open arms, make no mistake, but there was no prior notice of your arrival.” He set his teacup down, “call it a hunch, but aren’t you usually very proper with such things?”

He slots his fingers in the space between Neuvillette’s neck and jaw, cold like ice, smooth like leather, and watches the way his head tilts back against Wriothesley’s shoulder in consequence. Silence. It makes the roaring in his ears sound like discomforted static and his own breathing, laboured, rolls out in sharp intervals. 

He feels Neuvillette’s heartbeat, slow, stilted, irregular, through the membrane of his own.  

“I must apologise. My arrival was sudden, even to me." Neuvillette said, his voice at once cutting and balming, “I do recognise the disruption my presence here may entail, and I assure you, my stay won't be long.” Not a single hair out of place. Noble, and immaculate.

“Nonsense. My doors are always open to you. As a matter of fact, I feel as though I’m always the one asking you to stay, only to meet with your insistent departures. Please,” he gestured to the seat by his desk. “But really, this is quite peculiar. Have you come to chide me?”

“I cannot imagine what for.”

The quiet stretched and Wriothesley replied with a mild, “neither can I.”

Neuvillette said, “In truth, my duties required me nearby, though matters were resolved quite… efficiently, to say the least. I daresay my presence was not needed.”

“Ah, the reconstitution meetings, is it?  You had to oversee that?”

Neuvillette nodded. 

“The council is ruthless.” Wriothesley chuckled despite himself. By natural inclination, Neuvillette remained the highest authority of Fontaine but the nobility would always be the first to bow down to it, and simultaneously undermine it.

“If I had known the gravity of their cases, I would have scheduled our times accordingly. I’m not suggesting their concerns should be disregarded, however for the time being, I believe Imena to be capable on her lonesome.” He paused, as though reliving the brunt of insipid chatter, but whatever bitterness Wriothesley was searching for showed no trace. “Nevertheless, I had a great deal of time on my hands, and since my visit to Qiaoying Village, I confess I’ve made a habit of, as one would say, ‘loitering.’ As of late.”

Wriothesley looked up. “Oh?” So the observer has abdicated.

“Before I knew it,” Neuvillette said, “I found myself here.”

Neuvillette’s eyes are hidden behind grey tresses but Wriothesley imagines the slits dilating, darkening. Then he imagines hardly anything. The column of Neuvillette’s neck is submerged by a faint red, giving the appearance of having drunk too much liquor. Its contrast is slight, but drastic on Neuvillette's flesh; he finds it brings him down to physicality and in Wriothesley's handling.

He grabs Neuvillette’s wrists, holds them up and the colour travels to his ears, which Wriothesley traces with fervour. 

“Aha, how quaint. I imagine it is nothing short of a spectacle for the folk to see you out and about.”

Neuvillette looked hesitant, but Wriothesley was patient. “Regardless, I wished to ask: does your invitation for tea have an expiration date?”

“Course not, Monsieur Neuvillette.” The smile on Wriothesley’s face was unreserved, stretching easy on his face. “I’m way ahead of you.”

The room is warm, warm - his steel ice office has never been so humid. Neuvillette’s skin is jumping under his touch, pulling him in: teasing him out.

The tea he poured was a hearty homage to Neuvillette’s new ventures. Liyue’s specialty was herbal and demure, best suited for night, just as one was on his last ream of paperwork. Wriothesley watched with no obstacle as the mug pressed red into Neuvillette’s white palms. 

“I am not disrupting your duties, am I?”

“No, no, you came at the perfect time. ” Wriothesley waved, “what is this I’m hearing about loitering?”

“Well, it is still quite rare that I do. My duties still occupy me for the majority of the day, and I have a sense that my workload will double in the near future. However,” Neuvillette said, a frown twisting the corner of his lips, “it has come to my attention that it may prove worthwhile.”

“And what are your findings?”

“That remains to be seen, I’m afraid.” Neuvillette lowered his gaze. The corners of his eyes and lips rounded, becoming softer, more malleable. Those features were best blessed under the night sky, and Wriothesley’s office was kept dim for a reason. Regardless, the light from the outside was not inclined to penetrate through to the ocean floor.

He is clinically, accurately precise when he wants to be, but finds that its never what he wants, with Neuvillette. He can’t help but shove him into book cases, bend him over desks, pin him against limestone. Now, to the thrum of frenzy, his palm splayed on the small of Neuvillette’s back forces an arch too bowed to be painless.

For a brief moment, the intensity of his own stare was not known to him and when he came to, he almost startled. He considered winding up the gramophone but stopped himself; Neuvillette at his most serene was in the quiet. 

“It’s a good look on you.” He said, voice ahead of mind.

“Do you think so?”

Wriothesley cast his eyes away and to the far corner of his office, on a cabinet closest to the doors. It was crowned by a legal codex. He jerked his thumb in the direction of it.

“How else would this trophy of mine get to me?”

Neuvillette took a long sip of his tea, staring at the structure with bemusement. “Is it wise to have it on display like this?”

“Absolutely,” Wriothesley said, “not.” He flashed the Iudex a smile. “It’s home is in the storage room, as promised. I just like taking it out sometimes.”

“That is peculiar. For what reason?”

“Of course, it reminds me…

His hunger feels like it will never be quelled. It’s been there since his creation, merely dormant. Suppressed. Deactivated. A sigh escapes Neuvillette, quiet and like a song, and Wriothesley reconsiders.

“…of my appreciation of you. Our connection if you will,”

Some part of him knows his touch is audacious, that he's treating Neuvillette too lightly, as if he were an object. As if he were a thing Wriothesley owns. But his hands are made to be on Neuvillette’s body, and he grips his shoulder, his hip, and Neuvillette stills under it. Neuvillette stays where Wriothesley puts him.

“-and the code that I must dutifully live by.”

Wriothesley clenches his jaw, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple as he reminds himself: be gentle, be gentle. He shapes his consciousness back into its automated material and concentrates, until he doesn’t, and then he does what he likes. He grips Neuvillette’s hardened thigh, the tips of his fingers tracing the thin skin of the inside.

Neuvillette stared.

“And, of course, I had to have Clorinde bear witness to my earnings.”

Neuvillette gave a slow nod. “I hope it satisfied her expectations.” 

“Oh, she was very impressed by the craftsmanship.” Wriothesley rose from his seat, and moved towards the slab of stone. He picked it up with tenderness, stroked a thumb over the engraving with a fond eye. “In fact, I, myself, have started to segue into a great fondness for the arts. Finally, a fitting citizen of this country, no?”

Neuvillette disagreed,  “I highly doubt it deserves this calibre of praise. Please remember, it was conceived merely in jest.”

“Even your jokes are pristine, then.”

“I do not know what to say to that.”

Wriothesley let out an amused breath. 

Once more, he used the moment to reassess the situation; Neuvillette, Chief Justice of Fontaine, sitting in his office, having tea. He would appreciate the absurdity of it all if the man himself weren’t such a distracting contrast amongst his belongings. Timeless and stoic, unbound by teacups and velvet settees.

“Now, Monsieur Neuvillette,” Wriothesley crossed his arms, lax against his chair. “I must say, I do not hate engaging in pleasantries with you. However, it also stands that I have not yet known you to involve yourself.”

“You are right; I was, and am, unfamiliar to the need. This a first attempt of sorts.”

“You’ve been doing a lot of those recently… oh, let me refill that. ‘Scuse me.” 

Neuvillette reached out for the pot but Wriothesley, steeled by reflex, grabbed his wrist before he could intervene. Not unkindly. A beat, and Neuvillette’s arm went lax in Wriothesley's hold, and he grabbed the pot himself. The kettle on his worktable was the only household appliance in his office, filling the office with a muted hum.

Neuvillette is sturdy, solid and damp, and letting out a breath as a strong grip kneads the meat of his breast. The curve of Neuvillette’s neck lies bare as his hair slips before his shoulders, and his steady exhales becomes the symphony of the evening.

Neuvillette holds himself up where Wriothesley places him, always. Idle where Wriothesley mouths at the mound of his neck and shoulder, going easily when shoved. Wriothesley pushes in and there’s a solid thump of a fist, green veins protruding from Neuvillette's pale forearms. 

He pulls him closer, pushes him back. He guides the ancient entity forward so his forearms presses into book spines as Wriothesley violates him again and again.

Wriothesley places a grip on the back of Neuvillette’s neck, perhaps to tame if he thrashes, but he is still, so still. A monument that stands solid through the passage of time, purely and painfully ornamental.

Neuvillette eventually said, “it seems to have become a curiosity of mine.”

“Oh? Very well, then.” Wriothesley switched the kettle on and gave him a nod, “take the reins.”

Neuvillette’s lips worked around words that were silent, and then stopped moving altogether.

The articulation of those lips had been embedded in Wriothesley’s wiring the moment they delivered his verdict. When he spoke, motion was minimum, the cadence of his voice a soft imprint against ego: at once, nullifying and devastating. But if Neuvillette was careless, then call Wriothesley naive. The entity’s biggest crimes were his scarcity and fortitude.

“The process of reconstruction has posed significant challenges.” Neuvillette said after pause. The same low timbre from twenty years ago. “As you know, the termination of the Oratrice means the ease of this transition is my priority. I would like to know where you stand in all of this.”

Wriothesley laughed, “Ah, it has become work-related again. But that’s okay. I won’t be surprised when the shock dissipates and we find ourselves swamped down here too. People have already started to notice the state we’re in. You’ve read my reports, haven’t you? We are at the cusp of an interim.”

“I indeed have. It provided great clarification.”

Neuvillette's warmth all around him, a suffocation and a vice that promises to sever but Wriothesley yanks the tail of his coat out of the way and kicks his legs apart. And then takes him again. Raises him higher, higher, until Neuvillette is searching for better purchase. A grunt leaves his throat, thrust out with how hard Wriothesley’s muscles flex and then strain, and further ripples through his skin.

“And I’ve read your proposal. I stand by it.”

“I am grateful to hear that,” Neuvillette said, though the corner of his lips creased. “Fontaine has never been without an Archon. It seems I’ve misunderstood the effects of such a phenomenon.”

“This is not really a commonplace thing…”

“That much is irrefutable. As it stands, I have been faced with a series of novelties I may not be equipped to deal with.”

“You’re worried?”

“I would only like to enact what is best for Fontaine,” Neuvillette explained, and Wriothesley was once again reminded of a sorrowful form of a man barred of its features, staring down at him from a high throne. “It is not my capability per se, but my status that may destabilise the prospect of moderation. I am not asking for reassurance, rather, it is in that line of thinking that calls for perspectives outside of my own.”

Wriothesley hummed, pouring the tea with mechanical tenderness. “So that’s what this is about. You’ve seen the movements, haven’t you?” I thought I took care of that.

“It would be arrogant to assume there would not be any to resent my state of being.”

“Sure,” Wriothesley said, “If you ask me, it’ll be some time before it becomes an issue. Any semblance of visibility or violence right now is scoured by the loss of Focalors, and those who carry these sentiments lack the manpower and the influence. Trust me on this.”

Neuvillette spent a long time digging into his irises. Then he placed his tea back on the table. “I see now that it was reckless of me to have left.”

“You, reckless? Why, that’s not in your dictionary,” Wriothesley’s grim smile was concealed by his teacup, but Neuvillette caught onto details far faster than formalities anyway. “Though I actually think it best to lay low just as you are. No one is better suited for this than you.”

His other hand plants over Neuvillette’s stomach as he forces the man back against him, the muscles tensing hard under his palm, and a shaky inhale wanes as soon as it starts. Neuvillette’s hands find Wriothesley’s wrists; all else is insufficient in holding him up. Neuvillette is — cold and tight and addictive. 

He peels back layer by layer, smoothing hands over skin, until he finds him raw and pink and ripened.

“Why do you say that?”

“The people here have grown accustomed to its idols. They are used to performance and machinations. I’m assuming you don’t intend to pick up where Miss Furina left off?”

Neuvillette blinked. “Of course not.”

“I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds with my opinion. You, as a public figure, are not defined by archaic concepts such as ‘justice,’” Wriothesley jerked his chin, “but duty. In you, people see the vision already, and they will see that things will not be returning to the status quo. In fact, your transparency is what the nation needs right now, so give them that.” He paused, and shrugged, “or don’t. They’ve already had their sweethearts.”

“I see your point, Your Grace.” Neuvillette murmured, chin in hand. “I… will not pretend to comprehend the dynamics of human relationships. Despite my efforts to understand, each time I feel I’ve gained insight, a new facet eludes me." He looked troubled. "I’d initially hoped to salvage this with contributions. Gifts. Though it appears that those around me have emphasized the significance of my departure, instead. Needless to say, your advice has been highly valuable."

His palms drag heavy over Neuvillette’s hips to the back of a firm, thick thigh. He can feel Neuvillette brace himself when he forces his leg up in a firm hold, and the closeness presses him deeper inside. He’s a machine running on the fumes of Neuvillette’s wreckage. He’s a nexus of unstable energy contained by the wet clasp of Neuvillette, who remains untainted by mortal devices. 

The thick expanse of a shoulder so regal, so close to him, and Wriothesley sinks his teeth into it as his vision spots. 

“You do better than you think.” Wriothesley said with a small smirk, “and you’ll have to tell me more about Liyue some time.”

“Very well.” Neuvillette said. “I’ll have a detailed review for you at a later date. Perhaps I’ll squeeze in another visit before we next meet.”

"You do that." Wriothesley hummed, scratching the side of his head, “still, though. To think a day would come where the overworld and the underworld would find a middle ground.” 

The tendency to believe punishment started in Meriopode will never stop being a point of focus for him. It was as deeply amusing as Neuvillette's antics. There was a short pause where Neuvillette studied his face.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Wriothesley smiled. He grabbed Neuvillette’s cup, refilling it. “Up there resembles down here with each passing day, is all I’m saying.”

The wrinkles that appeared when Neuvillette furrowed his brow were also decorative, an adaptation of warm blood. His scrutiny never failed to thrill Wriothesley because it reduced the entity into somewhat of a reflection, laying the groundwork to be scrutinised in the same manner. Here, it wouldn’t surprise him had Neuvillette taken his leave, appeased with their exchange. Instead, Neuvillette followed him. 

“No more performances, I believe, is what you mean?”

“Everything is a performance,” Wriothesley said, offering Neuvillette’s teacup when the man leaned in close. He let the cold air stagnate around him, hindered only by Neuvillette’s breath. Except you. He let go of the cup. Neuvillette lingered, fingers secured around it. 

He watched Neuvillette indulge himself in another sip, exhaling, and the sound sliced the silence into thick slivers. It encased the room like fog, like condensation, and Wriothesley’s palms tingled and his throat went dry.

Wriothesley forces parts of himself deep inside him. They shudder in unison, Wriothesley gasping, chasing for breath. He folds Neuvillette over, draping over him like second skin with his forehead pressed against the damp back of a strong, noble shoulder.

“It’s good,” Neuvillette murmured, and the world started spinning again.

It rushes into a geyser of a memory; nails against skin, the pulse of his throat, the feeling like hurtling liberation and abandonment, before Neuvillette can button himself back up and wash it away. A phantom of the fragment of solidity Wriothesley can mould him into, when he was under his hands.

“Now that’s a compliment indeed, coming from you.”

“Please. Your discernment in matters of tea surpasses mine. When you brew it…” Neuvillette trailed off, perhaps scanning Wriothesley in his entirety. It was always a breathless thing to have the Iudex’s full attention. “When you are the one brewing it, I have complete confidence in its quality.”

“Is that a fact?” Wriothesley said, pleased as day.

"Do you know me as one to lie?”

“Point taken. Have you lied once in the past millennium?”

“I must have, statistically, but put on the spot like that, it is a challenge to recall.”

“Doesn’t count. Omission doesn’t count, either. Oh, and that was a rhetorical question, by the way.”

“I… see.” Neuvillette cast him an unreadable look. “If you’ll allow me to say, the amount of lies you’ve told is sufficient for both our lifetimes.”

Wriothesley grasped his own chest. “Why, Iudex Neuvillette! You’re really getting the hang of things, aren’t you?”

The gentle clink of fine china, the notes of Neuvillette’s quiet tones, the submergence of a glass bottle under the sea. The tea was starting to grow cold. The better part of an hour he had kept the Chief Justice locked in his hollow underwater. A free spirit made tangible, like picking up water with the sole equipment of one’s hands. The sentiment settled into his palms and fingers like a desperate ache.

“This was pleasant, Duke Wriothesley. You have my thanks in accommodating me tonight.” Neuvillette folded his hands atop his knee. “As a token of my appreciation, please allow for our next meeting to be in my office. Though I do not hold a candle to your tea-making, it would be my honour to prepare the refreshments."

“Well, if you insist. Perhaps I shall.”

He waits for Neuvillette to say something. Anything.

The doors were too loud when they screeched open. Wriothesley had half a mind to fix that later. “Our next tea party aside, might one hope for your presence more often down here, considering the circumstances?”

Neuvillette fixed his eyes on him, considering. “That may be a likelier thing. Nevertheless, this was an unusual deviation that I do not foresee becoming a regular occurrence. Unfortunately my responsibilities remain unchanged.”

“Unchanged,” Wriothesley echoed, pausing. “That’s an interesting word to use in this climate of events. To think you may inspire unrest among the people here; would you not consider my own appearances to yield the same result? This place is my foundation, but this does not mean anything to new faces.”

He said quietly, "Wriothesley."

And there were a lot of new faces, though the number was not privy to Neuvillette. Wriothesley’s eyes were intent, and he took care not to slip a bit of himself outside, “it is the next chapter, dear Iudex. I am but an authority, just like you.”

Neuvillette’s face remained unchanged, though a long sigh escaped silently through the nose. His fingers twitched, imperceptible if Wriothesley was not so attuned to his movements. “Yes, I… you are not wrong. I will take it into consideration." And then short and swift, "I bid you goodnight.”

Nothing. Everything.

The door swung closed with an echo that resonated deep within his chambers. Wriothesley settled back in his seat, his fingers coiling together as he rested his chin.

Neuvillette leaves in silence, his pristine coat flowing behind him.

[mayzi33]

******SPOILERS, SO MANY SPOILERS AHEAD.*********

I have so much to say I'm afraid my brain might explode. So I'll try to keep calm despite still being at the verge of tears.

When I first started this book series, I thought it would be the usual light, cutesy fantasy about friendship and family. And oh boy, OH BOY WAS I WRONG.

On a side note, something I'd like to point out I noticed, from the first book to the third, the lighting on the cover progressively gets darker. Of course, representing the story itself as the plot gets darker as well. On the last book, it's still dark, but there's a light coming from Janner, Kalmar and Leeli, like they finally reached sunrise after a long, ruthless night. Something i'm pretty sure was said at some point on the books themselves, about no matter how long the night is the day will always come.

Anyways. Back to the topic at hand. As the story progressed, I keep growing more and more connected to these characters, and each chapter I rooted more and more for the Jewels Of Anniera.

I'd like to add that I'm an only child, yet, somehow, I can tell Janner is one of the best eldest sibling characters ever written. My whole life I've only watched siblings around me and their relationship with eachother, especially on the eldest's side, and somehow, Janner reminded me of every friend, family member or random stranger I saw on the streets someday that have siblings.

Janner is such a complex character. He is by no means perfect, but he does have a golden heart. One of the things I was most impressed by was how the author described Janner's feelings, whatever it was the longing for his father, or just feeling burdened by his siblings. And yet, no matter what Janner is feeling, the narrator never invalidates his feelings or antagonize him. Janner is a child, a child who went through a lot. He is allowed to miss a father he never had just as he is allowed to sometimes be annoyed for always having to make sacrifices for his siblings. But one of the things I admired the most about Janner (along with everyone else I'm pretty sure) was his character development. At the first book, he'd roll his eyes at the mere thought of having to look after his siblings and saw them as a burden. At the second book, he learned the hard way how much Kalmar and Leeli matter to him, and how it hurts to be away from them. On the third book, he took pride on his title as Throne Warden and role as the eldest sibling, being devoted to protecting the High King and Song Maiden. And at last, on the last book, he leaves pride aside. He doesn't take care of Kalmar and Leeli because it's his duty, because it's honorable, neither because that's what he has always been told to do. He does it because he loves them above all else, because he finally sees how strong the bond the three of them share truly is, because he feels the blessing the Maker has gifted them, and how much stronger they are when they're together.

Janner is a kind, brave, clever, beautiful boy.

And I will forever believe that they managed to get him the water from the First Well to heal him. I will nor accept any other ending.

Kalmar. At first, the typical goofy, troublemaking sibling, more like a comic relief. But again, OHOHOHO BOY... DID THAT CHANGE.

I definetely did not expect for them to take the turn they did with Kalmar. I could tell that he would have some character arc mainly towards maturing and taking responsability, but I DID NOT EXPECT IT TO BE LIKE THAT. Seeing that bright, easy-going, smiley little boy loosing his usual joyful personality when he was fanged, slowly loosing his sanity and growing on his self loathing was really something painful yet beautiful to watch. Like Janner, he also had to learn his lesson on the hardest way possible. An extrovert kid like him, having everyone turning their backs on him and looking at him with hatred, and yet, he learned to keep his head high, like a High King. (the phrase "keep your head held high or else your crown will fall" is literally perfect for him.) And most of all, seeing him risk his life to aid a strange cloven, (that turned out to be his father) grant the Hollowsfolk his forgiveness despite everything they did to him, show mercy and compassion to the Fangs despite everything they did, all of these things make Kalmar an inspiring ruler, and leaves me assured that he will be a great king after all.

Now, Leeli, sweet, pure-hearted Leeli. I will be honest, at first I was afraid that they would make her the typical "overly nice and overly fragile female character", but again, BOY WAS I WRONG. (I don't know how many times I will repeat that, I apologize.) At some points in the books, she didn't have as much spotlight as her brother and I felt like she was kind of being thrown aside. But there's always a turn the books take that make her lack of spotlight at first worth it. So young, the youngest of the Jewels Of Anniera, yet she has seen and done so much. Has a bad leg, needed to use a crutch since she was little, yet that literally never stopped her. She strives to keep up with her brothers, and despite his kind personality she shows she can be festy and even scary when she wants to. (I will never forget that moment in the second book where she was yelling at the trolls and fangs and they were actually eager to obey her lol). She hates it when people assume she's weak and often refuses help, proving she's perfectly capable. But at times, she does need help, which shows us all it's okay to have someone to rely on. She was the link between Janner and Kalmar, no matter how much they argued nor how mad they were at eachother, she was always there for both of them and connecting them back together. She may not be able to fight like her brothers, but she found her own strenght. Her music, something that has always brought joy and hope to others turns out to be an ACTUAL weapon. She kicked a Green Fang to defend her puppy, she was the first one to see the pain and kindess through Peet, Nugget sacrificed himself for her showing how her strong her love for others really is, she stopped A FREAKING DRAGON from killing her grandpa, she led an army of dogs, she defeated countless fangs with nothing but her song. One of the best child female chracters I've seen in a while. She is feminine, has her weak points, but she finds her strenght, not in swords, punches or bows but on a whistleharp. I love her so much I can't describe it.

I love all of these kids so much. I am *proud* of them. I know it's a weird thing to say about fictional characters, but these books just make me feel this way. I can't name a single character I didn't connect or feel empathy with.

Nia, such a strong, independent woman, raising her children having lost her husband and kingdom, yet keep her head held high like the queen she is.

Podo, a man who has sinned, takes shame on them, yet shows that sinners can still be good people. Loves his family above all else, protected and took care of them until his last breath, might have been a little rough around the edges, but always showed a soft spot for his daughter and grandkids.

Artham, a broken man, haunted by the shame of loosing his brother, slowly, but surely, healing. Learning to move on by protecting his nephews and niece, making what was once a weakness a strenght.

Oskar, an old man that was always sitting on the library, letting go of his peaceful life and risking his life to accompany the Wingfeathers through thick and thin.

Sara, who was taken from her family, abused and had all her hope crushed, finding her courage back after meeting Janner and taking after him, being a sisterly figure, leader and queen ti billions of orphan children, and helping them find their strenght and fight for their freedom.

Maraly, a rude strander girl who was raised horribly her whole life by her abusive father, finally finding true love and a true father figure.

Everything about this story has touched me. A broken world taken by an evil monarch who turned to be just another broken soul, filled with hopeless people, people who had surrended to the darkness... Saved by three children, who brought light everywhere they went. A boy with scars, a boy inside a wolf, and a girl with a crutch. Kids who one day were mere peasants, the other were the Jewels Of Anniera, and a year later, heroes of Aerwiar.

I've smiled, I've laughed, I've been shocked, I've been scared, I've been mad, I've cried. I have red lots, and I mean LOTS of books. Different stories, different worlds, different characters. Yet none of them has touched me half as much as The Wingfeather Saga.

It has war, tears, bloodshed, betrayals, sacrifices and sorrow. But it also has love, joy, hope, laughter, wonder and light.

This story definetely deserves way more fans and recognition. I hope that with the new animated series (which I'll definetely watch later) it begins to gain more love.

Anyways. I really love this in case y'all couldn't tell already. Have a good day/afternoon/evening.