#dangerous sin zones

[cassarson]

Occasionally I type something in while writing tags, so ove decided to purge my especially strange/specific ones onto this post, just cause I can.

Is this annoying? Probably!! But this is Tumblr. We're all annoying, and I wanted to see what has in there.

[saintobio]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.

rule #1: even if the world crumbles down in front of you, never, ever trust sylus with your heart. because even the fiercest flames can't match the danger of loving a man like him.

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+

♱ tags. villain!reader, reader works for onychinus, reader is not l&ds!mc, set in the N109 zone, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, baby doll, darling, sweetie), unprotected sex, throatfucking (m!receiving), cunnilingus (f!receiving), cum-eating, slight dom/sub play, spitting, hair-pulling, spanking, biting, choking, overstimulation, bondage, blindfolding, lots of jealousy, possessiveness, yandere themes, stalking, blood, violence, usage of guns, allusions to prostitution, killings, death, *coughs* that one harley+joker scene.

♱ notes. 8.2k words. inspired by this song bcos i can’t stop thinking abt him for days

“Boss is looking for ‘ya.”

It was already nighttime when you emerged from the library, only to encounter the eccentric twins, Luke and Kieran, lounging on the window sill as if they had been waiting for you to come out of your bat cave. They always donned their signature uniforms of leathered attire and beaked masks, an outfit reminiscent of Sylus’s mechanical crow, Mephisto. Behind their silhouettes, the red glow of the blood moon poured through the window, casting an eerie, crimson hue across the dimly lit hallways. Any normal person would have found such an atmosphere disturbing. 

But that was the N109 Zone for you—a dark, lawless, enigmatic place you called home.

“Is he in his room already?” you asked, quietly closing the door behind you. In your arm was a thick book, an archival file you had spent nearly two hours searching for. It contained records of historical events, of life before the Chronorift Catastrophe of 2034, before the Deepspace Tunnel was opened. Sylus had tasked you with finding the file for reasons he didn’t care to disclose.

A curious Luke tilted his head and swung his feet in the air as he pointed at the book. “Let me guess,” he began with a teasing tone, “Is that book some sort of Kama Sutra?”

Kieran’s snigger followed. “I bet it is, since it’s her birthday in a few hours.”

“Very funny,” was your quick retort. “It’s a history book, you idiots. Sylus needs it for something.”

The twins then let out a teasing coo. “Aww, so no birthday ‘fun’ for you?” asked Luke, “I thought sleeping with your boss would have its perks, too.”

Although his comment was meant to be a joke, you bristled at his jab at your professionalism. It had been a few years since you started this kind of relationship with Sylus, with him being your boss and the leader of Onychinus, and with you as his personal assistant and, well… escort. 

In and out of the N109 Zone, Sylus was a popular man for both good and bad reasons. His notoriety was mostly for his influence, and sometimes for his crimes. He was known to be unforgiving—a brute man who carried no conscience towards his enemies. One wrong move and you’d find yourself six feet under. Perhaps, that was what you admired so much about him. His aura, his domineering persona, his dangerous charm. He had mastered the art of seduction, the sin of hunger and desire. His power. There was no one like him. 

And so, you were the happiest woman alive when what began as an unrequited admiration eventually blossomed into something more. Spending more time with your boss played a pivotal role in gaining his interest towards you, because day-by-day he started to learn how much of an asset you could be for him. You were his prized possession. You were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Despite Luke and Kieran’s constant warnings of the abyss you were throwing yourself into, you were willing to be a pawn in Sylus’s game of chess. You wanted to be the Queen next to a King. Because that meant you were too valuable to simply set aside.

Yet Sylus was never one to clarify the nature of your relationship. He’d often say there was no need to clear up such a silly thing. All you knew was that when Sylus needed you, he had to have you. In all ways. He’d still act professional and distant depending on the audience. But behind closed doors, he spoiled you like a princess, treated you like a queen, and worshiped you like a saint. He was a sadistic, draconic man towards others, but he always had a gentle spot for you. Only for you. 

And that was a spot you would never, ever share with anyone else.

“Whatever. I gotta go see him,” you excused yourself from the two, just as one of them tossed a black box to you. “Is this my present?”

The twins jumped down from the window sill in perfect sync. “Advance happy birthday to the princess of Onychinus. Make sure to open the gift when boss is around.”

Your lips spread into a smile as you held the box in your free hand. Luke and Kieran giving you a gift was the last thing you would expect from them. “Why, thank you—”

“Yeah, yeah. You should go see him now,” said Kieran, pushing you forward by the shoulders. “Can’t keep boss waiting.”

By the time you reached Sylus’s door, the twins’ distant, mischievous chuckles then echoed down the hall. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head before grasping the door handles, stepping inside of Sylus’s bedroom with slow, measured steps. You didn’t know why you were nervous. As the door shut behind you, the familiar scent of leather, cardamom, and sandalwood immediately enveloped you like a fragrant, hallucinatory mist. However, his king-sized bed lay empty with the sheets still perfectly arranged. There were no signs of him anywhere, until the sound of cascading rainwater drew your gaze toward the bathroom, where his tall figure was visible through the frosted glass. He was engaged in a steamy shower, clearly unaware of the intruder that entered his room just now.

“Boss?” you called out, standing by his bed. “I’ll leave the file on your nightstand.” 

Receiving no response, you placed the book on the bedside table and waited for him patiently. Should you stay or should you leave? It usually depends on Sylus’s mood. There were nights where he wanted to be left alone, and nights where he craved your presence. His lack of response may be a sign to exit his room. But as you prepared yourself to leave thinking that Sylus purposely ignored you, a certain black velvet box resting on his nightstand suddenly caught your eye. Unlike the typical small box that might hold a ring, this one was more rectangular in shape and you were drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It was your curiosity that led you to touch the soft surface, wondering what lay beneath it.

Is it for me…?

“They say curiosity kills a cat.” Sylus’s deep, resonant voice broke your trance as he stepped out of the shower. Wrapped in nothing but a white towel around his waist, his muscular form was on full display as he approached you with assertive footsteps. Every curve of his muscle flexed as he moved. And his carnelian eyes sparkled with amusement, the corners of his thin, pinkish lips curving upward when he walked closer to you. “Touching my things without permission. Are you asking to be punished, kitten?”

Your heart raced as he closed the distance. Yet, maintaining composure around Sylus was a skill you had honed since the day you began working for him. “Oh, forgive me, master,” you merely teased. “It caught my attention.”

“Curious about the box or who it’s for?” he taunted, raking his fingers through his damp gray hair. Beads of water glistened on his bare skin, and you found your gaze wandering to his perfectly sculpted abs until you felt his finger lifting your chin up. “Eyes on me, honey. Don’t tell me you thought that velvet box was for you?”

So it isn’t? You suppressed a disappointed expression, but your clouded eyes betrayed you. “No, I… just curious.”

“Is that a sad kitten I see?” he asked, tilting his head to catch even the slightest changes in your expression. “You wanna open the box?”

“No, thank you.” Your stubbornness prevailed this time.

Sylus’s lips curved into a smile as he stepped closer, his arms wrapping around your waist and turning you gently. He then went on to open the velvet box and fastened a silver necklace around your neck. “Happy birthday, my darling,” he whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he planted a tender kiss on your shoulder. “That’s a red beryl crystal—one of the rarest gemstones in the world.”

Your eyes sparkled in awe as you touched the red pendant, feeling its exquisite value beneath your fingertips. Oh… to receive such beautiful, rare gem from the boss of Onychinus himself. You were too overwhelmed with appreciation as you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Sy!” you exclaimed, your heart swelling at his effort. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

He returned your gaze with a smug look. “You better love it. I sacrificed two gold bullets just to get that for you, sweetie.”

“You…” Your eyes widened at the implication behind his words. Someone’s life was lost in exchange for your birthday gift. It was beyond your expectations to know that Sylus went to such macabre lengths just to surprise you, but banality was his worst enemy, and the last thing he would do was be called boring over things like birthday surprises. “...Well, thank you. I’ll treasure it forever, my love.”

“Now,” he said, abruptly breaking the sweet moment as he glanced at the other box on his bed. You realized he was scrutinizing the gift from the twins, which you had unwittingly left behind when you hugged him. His expression darkened slightly, clearly displeased at the foreign object on his bed. “Care to tell me where this is from? Or did some other bastard get you a present before I did?” he questioned, “Tell me his name, his identity. Give me his location.”

Chuckling, you cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s not what you think. Luke and Kieran gave it to me before I came here.”

Still unimpressed, he raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the box. “Who told you to receive gifts from other men?” 

“I…”

“Let’s see what’s inside, shall we?”

“I’m sure it’s just some…” you began, hurriedly untying the ribbon at the sight of Sylus’s growing pique. But as you opened the box, your mouth dropped in shock upon seeing a black lingerie set inside. An awkward laugh forced its way out of your mouth. Those two! “I… Ha-ha! They fool around too much. Don’t mind it. I’m just gonna throw it away.”

Sylus’s frown quickly transformed into a deep chuckle as he lifted the lingerie by the strap, his eyes widening with interest as he examined the lace corset. “Why don’t you try wearing it first, baby doll?” he suggested, an idea clearly forming in his mind. “It’s rude to toss aside a gift.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, you thought, feeling your cheeks flush under his gaze. You almost lost your mind when he looked down at you with a roguish smirk, like he was an animal who’s about to devour his first meal in a long time. “You really want me to put it on?”

“Since it’s your special day,” he insisted, settling at the edge of his bed while keeping you positioned between his legs, “Let me help you with that.” His tone was more command than suggestion as he slowly unbuttoned your shirt, peeling it away from your body. “That’s it, be a good kitten. Just follow your master’s orders and you’ll do just fine.”

You felt his cold fingertips brushing against your chest as he slipped your blouse down, his hands reaching behind to unclasp your bra and set your breasts free. Instinctively, you shied away from the intensity of his gaze and covered your chest. But he was quick to grab your wrist, an eyebrow raised at your disobedience. “I’m sorry…” 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he mumbled in a deep, orotund voice before continuing to undress you. His hand now fiddled with your pants, unzipping and sliding it down your legs in a painfully slow way. To your surprise, he had also pulled your underwear down along with your pants, leaving your lower body as bare as it could be. “Looks like my kitten’s prepared,” he said with a lowly chuckle, his gaze locked on your freshly waxed lady part. “But I’ll take my time before I devour you.” 

Taking a deep breath, you placed your hand on where his shoulder and neck met. All your clothes were discarded on the floor and you were nothing but naked in front of the very man you so deeply adored. He alone was the most perfect gift for you. “Boss…” your voice came out like a whisper, “About your upcoming transaction with Mr. Davis. H-He agrees to meet at the nightclub this Friday.” 

Sylus displayed a devilish smirk, noticing your effort in opening a subject to distract yourself from the compromising situation he had put you in. Though, instead of shaming you further, he had decided to play the part. “I’m surprised you managed to bargain with him,” he praised, slipping in a black, lace underwear up your legs. It barely covered your folds, and with Sylus’s warm breath tickling your cunny, you knew that your underwear would only be ripped apart sooner or later. “But then again, it must be your… irresistible charm that made him agree to meet up,” with a pause, he made a twirling gesture with his finger. “Turn around for me, sweetie.” 

You did as told, chest rising and falling deeply as your boss began to tie the corset behind you. It was too tight, but he seemed to have liked it that way, because your breasts were almost popping out of the padding. “I-I… Is it supposed to be this tight?” you asked, hesitantly, “I can’t breathe.” 

“It’s perfect.” He let out a deep chuckle before suddenly pushing you down on his bed. The sudden force left your heartbeat somersaulting, the anticipation and nervousness rising deep within you as you looked up at his predatory gaze. “Now, for the best part.” 

Sylus whipped out a handcuff and a blindfold from his drawer, and his first action was to grab your wrists and lock it within the silver handcuff around the headboard. The very next thing he did was cover your eyes with the blindfold, tying it neatly behind your head to deprive you of one of your five senses. 

“Sylus—?” You weren’t sure what was happening now, and hated that you couldn’t see his handsome face because of the blindfold. Your vision offered nothing but darkness, blinding you from whatever Sylus was planning to do with you in his king-sized bed. There were sounds of fabric rustling around you, the sound of clothing dropping to the floor, and the wet, sloppy noises near your face. When you felt the tip hitting your cheek, you realized it was Sylus touching himself, leaving you to imagine how he was stroking his hard length in front of your face, preparing his cock for a wild night ahead. “Are you—”

“Shh.” Your voice was cut off after he held a strong grip around your jaw, forcing your mouth open before the taste of his cocktip started entering your mouth. Not even halfway in, you already gagged from his cock. He was too huge for your mouth—too thick, too veiny, too lengthy. But nonetheless, despite the threads of saliva that waterfalled on the sides of your mouth, Sylus still shoved his entire length in. He didn’t care if you had started choking from his monstrous cock. He was too focused on burying his member in and out of your mouth, hitting your uvula, and allowing for tears to escape your eyes. “That mouth of yours is heaven for me, honey,” he said, your chin on his hand as he released a deep, guttural groan. “Move your tongue around it.” 

“Mmh—ngh!” Even if you were getting asphyxiated, fucking your throat was one of Sylus’s favorite foreplays. And so, like the obedient kitty you were, you started bobbing your head along to the rhythm of his thrusts. You also moved your tongue in circles around his shaft, and Sylus’s moans got louder, turning you on knowing that you were doing great at pleasuring the love of your life. You couldn’t even taste him enough, your mouth was too sore and numb at that point. 

Not even long after, he started angling his cock to your cheeks as if he was desperate to feel every inch of your mouth. When he pulled away, you released his member with a pop, and the string of saliva ended up coating your chin. While you couldn’t move your hand to wipe it off, you did try to move your wrists around the handcuff wondering if you could set yourself free. 

“Trying to break free?” Sylus’s voice was so near your right ear, the weight of his body becoming heavier on top of you. “We’re not done yet, darling.” 

A sloppy, open-mouthed kiss quickly calmed you down. You allowed Sylus to explore your mouth with his tongue, letting him lap you up like a meal he couldn’t stop eating. And with every bite on your lower lip, you were whimpering like a helpless cat. “S-Sylus,” you begged, “S-Sy… I…”

“Hmm?” His mouth was now on your neck, suckling and nibbling on the skin until they would leave purple marks all over. 

“Mmh… I want you.” 

“Not so soon, birthday girl.” Sylus’s teasing led to him pulling away from you. Now, you were unsure of his next move. But your chest only continued to move in an unsteady rhythm, the lack of sight heightening your auditory sense as a compromise. 

The next thing you knew, his manly hands started kneading at your breasts. He cupped them with such a force that made you stop breathing for a moment, focusing the sensation of his touch as he slightly pulled the padding of your corset to peek at one of your tits. In an instant, his mouth was attached to your nub. His tongue licked around your nipple, flicking it playfully before sucking and biting on your mounds. 

“Haaah!” 

“The twins did well in delivering this gift to you,” he made a subtle remark, releasing your tit from his mouth. His movements suggested he was moving down south, down to where your crotch was, and he only confirmed your thoughts when he began spreading your legs open and pulling your underwear to the side. “Look at how wet that pretty pussy is.” 

You moaned at the feeling of Sylus’s finger toying with your entrance. “T-The twins,” you barely said, squirming from the coil you were feeling inside your body. “What do you mean they delivered… the gift? Was it your idea after all?” 

Too bad you couldn’t see his face, but you were sure as hell that there was a triumphant smile spreading on it. “How else would they know your bra size, kitten?” he replied in a low voice before surprising you with the feeling of his tongue moving inside your slit, “Only I have access to your body.” 

Fuck, fuck. You were going insane. “Mhm—ngh! Aah!”

Sylus’s mouth was rough against your cunt, the tip of his nose tickling your clit as he continued spreading your labia apart to give himself better access inside your pussy. He completely devoured your sopping cunt, grunting and growling like a rabid dog as he alternated between french-kissing your pussy to burying his digits inside. His three fingers orchestrated deep and fast movements against your walls, with each stroke inside earning a wild whimper out of you. 

“Haaah—! Sylus, I… I can’t hold it… anymore.” 

He found your sweet spot soon enough, and chuckled darkly as you tried to squirm like a pathetic little kitty under him. With your legs dangling on his shoulders, he resumed abusing your sore cunt by fingering your vulva until you were at your seventh heaven. And as soon as you felt the need to pee, you knew he’d only pick up the speed of his fingers even more. 

“I-I… Please, Sy… I’m…”

For the first time in your life, you felt yourself squirting all over his bed. Your hips raised itself involuntarily, legs shaking violently on top of his shoulders. The overstimulation was sending you to ecstasy, as if you were in a place where every pleasure in the world was given to you. In your extremely vulnerable state, Sylus chose to grab the opportunity and forced all eight inches of his member inside. He hushed your moans and whimpers by kissing you on the mouth, his lips encasing yours in a loving and passionate exchange. 

This was the most erotic you had been with him. 

“You’re so fucking sexy to me, Y/N.” His cock moved fast and hard inside you. You could even feel his member twitching as your tight walls gripped him like vacuum, milking him of his every seed until he was fully drained. His lips then trailed around your jawline, then onto the valleys in between your breasts while he went on to thrust even rougher than the last. He plowed his cock inside you like there was no tomorrow, rutting and rutting and rutting like he was desperate to reach his own climax. “This pussy… Can’t get enough of your sweet pussy, kitten.” 

“Ah—aah! Mmh—ngh.” 

“More?”

“Y-Yes… please!” 

“Harder?”

“Mhmm!” 

“Faster?” 

“S-Sylus!” 

“Such a nasty girl you are,” he quipped, your hips now gripped by his strong hands as he sat in bed, readying for the final position. “Next time, I’m gonna eat your ass.” 

Gosh. You were already feeling limp under him. And when you felt his hands ripping your panties off, you knew it was game over for you. He was a hungry beast whose desire for lust would make him the worst sinner in hell. You couldn’t contain the loudness of your moans and whimpers as Sylus started thrusting into you at an otherworldly speed, your cunt feeling the soreness of his every slam. The skin-slapping sound dominated his entire room as your slick coated his entire length. At that point, he began biting on your lower leg, his cock doing its last twitch deep inside your cavern. He was balls deep inside, his bollocks slapping against your pussy with every jostle. 

“C-Cum…” you pleaded, “Inside me… Please.” 

But to your disappointment, Sylus pulled out. You didn’t know where he was releasing his seed until you felt the warm liquid shooting at your stomach. Three times you had asked him to cum inside, and he still continued to refuse. You thought your birthday would have been an exception, but Sylus was too smart for that. He knew knocking you up would ruin his plans. Getting you pregnant would make him lose his chances with her. 

“You can sleep on my bed tonight, darling.” Sylus easily released your hand from the cuffs with his evol, and did his own effort in untying the blindfold around your eyes. Little did he know that your tired eyes actually carried pain inside. “Close your eyes now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

You watched as he walked toward his nightstand, oblivious to the pessimistic thoughts swirling in your mind. If only she never existed in his life. If only she was you instead. 

“Sylus.” You fixed your gaze on his face. “I love you.”

His eyes widened in panic for a moment before he masked it with indifference. It was as if your declaration had caught him off guard, as if your years of devotion hadn’t already made it clear how deeply in love you were. 

“You shouldn’t.”

~~

The N109 Zone’s most famous nightclub was alive with pulsating lights and thumping bass on a Friday night, a den of excess and shadows where shady deals and dangerous liaisons were also par for the course. Sylus was dressed in his signature dark attire, leaning against a plush booth in the corner, and the red glow from the neon lights flickering off his white hair and crimson eyes. Meanwhile, you, draped in a red revealing dress that accentuated your every curve, moved with foxy grace as you joined Sylus at the booth.

Let’s just say Sylus didn’t exactly approve of your dress tonight. He thought it was revealing too much skin that was supposedly for his eyes only. But ever since the night of your birthday where he didn’t return your declaration of love, you started rebelling against your boss. Everything he disliked, you did out of spite. You did them out of the bitterness boiling inside you. 

Across from you two, in a secluded corner of the club, sat Sylus’s business partner, a man whose sharp suit and cold gaze reflected a ruthless demeanor. The table between you was littered with documents and blueprints, a clear indication of the shady business transaction underway—an armory deal of massive proportions, weapons, and munitions that could alter the balance of power in the underworld. Sylus’s arsenal of weapons could already destroy Linkon City if he wanted to, but there was no fun in that. It would be too much an easy disposal.

Nonetheless, Sylus’s eyes sparkled with approval as he glanced at the stacks of weaponry displayed before him. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he remarked with a sly grin. “The quality of your armory is unparalleled, Davis. You really outdid yourself this time.”

The business partner, clearly pleased, gave a curt nod. “I aim to please. But payment in cash alone doesn’t always satisfy, does it?”

Sylus leaned back, his gaze shifting to you. You were just settling next to him, your quiet presence commanding everyone’s attention as the low neckline of your red dress drew admiring glances from his business partner. Sylus was quick to notice the man’s eyes lingering on your breasts, a hint of predatory interest flickering in the old man’s gaze.

“Seems like my partner here is quite taken with you,” Sylus mused, hinting at a dangerous edge in his voice. “How about it? Would you like something other than money for your trouble?”

Mr. Davis’s eyes never left you as he smirked, a flicker of greed clouding his gaze. It was obvious to everyone in that booth that the old geezer was undressing you with his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

Sylus’s smile grew sharper. “Y/N here is quite the treasure. If you’re interested, she could be yours for the night. Do what you want with her. What do you say?”

Unbelievable! Stunned by his words, you quickly turned to Sylus in protest. You couldn’t believe he was offering you like some whore to that old man, but you had to hide your disgust after meeting Sylus’s glowing carmine eyes shooting you a knowing look. Just play along and stay quiet, you could almost hear his voice in your head. 

Mr. Davis’s perverted gaze remained fixed on you, clearly tempted as he battled with the demons in his head. And at your boss’s signal, you were ordered to walk towards Mr. Davis apprehensively, sitting on his lap while keeping the disgust you were feeling from showing. His hand soon grazed your thigh, the other squeezing your breast. “That’s a tempting offer,” commented the old man, a triumphant grin on display, “But I’d be a fool to refuse a bad bitch like her.”

“Good,” Sylus said, his tone suddenly serious as he slid a sleek, black gun from the table. He idly toyed with the handgun, clearly unfazed. “Let’s finalize our deal then. I’ll just take this gun you’ve provided. Don’t mind if I do a little ‘quality testing’,” he added with a chilling smile, loading the magazine with .45 ACP bullets.

The business partner’s eyes widened in realization as Sylus’s hand tightened around the weapon. Panic soon flashed across Mr. Davis’s face before he desperately pushed you off his lap and scrambled to his feet, hoping to de-escalate the rift he had caused with the Onychinus leader. “Wait, Mr. Sylus! I-I didn’t mean to offend. I’m not going to steal your lady, I swear! Don’t—”

But just as you expected, Sylus’s expression remained cold and unyielding. With a swift, practiced motion, he pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot was sharp and final, cutting through the pulsating music and leaving a deadly silence in its wake. Mr. Davis quickly dropped to the floor, his eyes wide open and the hole on the side of his head leaking with dark, red blood. 

Your eyes remained cool and detached as you watched the scene unfold, your expression too unreadable for the killer next to you. You’ve seen worse things while living in the N109 Zone, right? was Sylus’s inner thoughts as he placed the gun back on the table, his gaze steady while regarding the now lifeless body of his former business partner. The carpet was now drenched with an unsightly amount of blood. 

Just then, the twins, Luke and Kieran immediately swung the door open with a guarded stance, worried that something had happened to the Onychinus leader whom you all served under. But upon looking at Mr. Davis’s fresh corpse sprawled out on the floor, both twins merely shrugged it off, praising their boss for dealing with the old man in a brutal fashion. 

“Leave us for a while,” Sylus instructed the twins, pulling you closer by gripping your waist, “If any of Davis’s men try to come in, kill them with no mercy.” 

“Roger that, boss.” 

As soon as the door was closed, Sylus turned to you, you recognized a demonic glow in his eyes as he tugged at the neckline of your dress. “You,” he spoke under his breath, “are testing my patience.” 

~~

You weren’t sure how to feel about it.

Heck, you couldn’t tell if you were even turned on by it, but Sylus fucking you in front of a dead man did bring in a rush of adrenaline in you. This was the fourth time he had killed a man for desiring you, and while he would usually play it off and say he was just feeling bloodthirsty at the time those incidents happened, this was the first time he was compelled to actually touch you next to a man he had just mercilessly shot. It was as though he was trying to prove a point, that dead or alive, no other man would have the pleasure of having you. 

“S-Sylus,” you let out a whimper, knees beginning to feel sore as your boss continued to hit you from behind, hips snapping against your bum in a rough, merciless manner. A stinging sensation was soon felt on your butt cheek as Sylus sent a hard, crisp slap on your ass. “Mmh—!” 

His nails dug into your hips, jostling you forwards and backwards so your ass could meet the base of his cock with how deep he was plowing himself into you. You had already creamed around his member multiple times that night, too satiated by the possessiveness Sylus was showing towards you, and yet, the signs of him stopping seemed to be a far end of the line. 

“Did you enjoy my show, kitten?” he asked, a question borne from feelings of spite, “Did you like how he was gawking at your tits? Look at his pathetic face now. You see that?” 

Sylus grabbed you by the face and forced you to look at Mr. Davis’s lifeless body for a good minute. A minute to remember such a ghastly image for the rest of your life. And only after he was satisfied at the fright in your eyes did he start pulling you by the hair, only to then wrap a tight hand around your neck. You couldn’t breathe. You were choking from his hand, restrained to receive any bit of air down your throat. The strong smell of iron, gun powder, and leather was also beginning to intoxicate you, and you knew you were a minute away from passing out. But Sylus was too enraged to stop, his mind was a toxic fire you couldn’t easily extinguish and the only thing you could do was allow him to take his anger out on you. 

“Hnngh! Sy… Sylus…” you cried, moaning as his hard thrust almost sent you forward to his business partner’s corpse. The pressure on your windpipe was too strong that barely any sound came out of your mouth. “Sylus, I’m all y-yours, my love. Ah—aah! All… yours.” 

He did loosen his grip on your neck, because he had pulled you by the chin to spit into your mouth. A string of saliva connected your tongue to his, your chest undulating in heavy breaths as he began to grope your tits from behind. “Dress like a whore again,” he whispered a warning into your ear, “and I wouldn’t hesitate to treat you like one.” 

Your mind, too numbed by the overstimulation all over your body, couldn’t fully grasp the words he had just spoken. All you knew was that he pressed you further down the carpeted floor, with your ass high up and your body down low. The next thing he did was to spread your butt cheeks apart to gape at the exact hole he was destroying. 

Sore. Too sore. Too numb. Too… Too… “Sylus, I’m g-gonna…” 

“Fuck,” he cussed, accelerating his thrusts at an animalistic speed, his deep breaths turning into a guttural groan as he chased his high. His cum was thick when they landed on your face, and the taste was sweet and salty when he forced the rest of his cum onto the back of your throat. You gagged as he hit your uvula, drool oozing at the corner of your mouth as you choked and yet managed to swallow every drop of his semen. 

Like a good girl, for him. Always. 

You didn’t exactly black out afterward. You were caught in a liminal state, not fully awake but not unconscious either, as you collapsed onto the floor. Sylus discarded you like a toy he’d grown tired of. If you had been more aware, you would have immediately noticed the abrupt shift in his behavior. The sound of his fading footsteps made you realize that the man you loved so obsessively had just left you in that booth, right next to a dead man.

“Y/N?”

“Y/N. Hey, you okay?” 

The coat soon enveloping your body wasn’t Sylus’s; it belonged to one of the twins, and you could feel yourself being carried in his arms. 

“Luke…?” you murmured weakly. 

“No, it’s Kieran,” he clarified, since his older brother was occupied with disposing of Mr. Davis’s body. “I’m taking you home.” 

You clung to his shoulder, your heavy-lidded eyes searching for Sylus’s distinctive white hair. “Wha—? Where’s he? Where is Sy—” 

“Boss already left.” His words felt like a blow. “You know he’s dangerous when he’s angry, so you should just go home for today.” 

You tried to wriggle free from Kieran’s grasp, confused by the sudden turn of events. “But what did I do? Why is he angry with me?” 

“It’s not you, just… complicated,” were the last words you heard before exhaustion overtook you, unaware that you were now outside the nightclub. 

Continuing to squirm from Kieran’s hold, you cried, “What do you mean complicated!”

“Luke and I tried to warn you, Y/N,” he said, grimly, as if he felt bad for you. “You’re not supposed to mess with his emotions. Those feelings are reserved for another.”

~~

The night air in the N109 Zone felt heavy and suffocating. It had been a month since Sylus had abruptly cut off contact with you, leaving you in a state of uncertainty, overthinking, and anger. When he had asked you to take a break from work, you already found his command suspicious, and then the silence that followed was a deafening confirmation of your suspicion. No texts, no calls, and every attempt to visit Onychinus’s base was continuously met with cold dismissal. 

With this, you found yourself at your makeshift gun range, the repetitive bang of the shots echoing in the dimly lit space. The targets were riddled with holes, each bullet a release of your pent-up frustration. Your thoughts were a tempest of spiteful musings: how you should have maxed out his credit card for everything it was worth if you had known he was going to just dump you. The thought of doing so now felt petty, but it also served as a bitter reminder of how easily he had discarded you that night.

But amid your rage, a more serious thought began to surface. Sylus’s avoidance wasn’t merely a cruel game or a sudden whim; it seemed to hint at something deeper, something more troubling. Was there something he wasn’t telling you? Had something happened that he couldn’t or wouldn’t explain?

You should probably confront him, but you needed a sign. Barging into Onychinus’s base without prior notice would be a suicide wish, so you had to have a reason on showing up unannounced. A sign. You desperately needed one, and perhaps the universe was toying with you, but the very sign you were looking for came in the form of a mechanical crow that landed on the lightpost. Its red eyes glowed like lasers through the night, tilting its head as it looked at your way. 

“Caw! Caw!” 

“Mephisto,” you breathed a sigh of relief. Did Sylus send him to watch over you? 

With your confidence growing back, you decided to finally confront the situation head-on. This cold war would bring you nothing but a painful whirl of overthinking. And so, you returned to Onychinus’s base that night, your anger tempered by a new, steely resolve. As usual, the base was as imposing and foreboding as ever, its corridors silent except for the occasional echo of footsteps.

Where is everyone? 

As you neared Sylus’s quarters, your heart pounded with a mix of dread and anticipation. You approached his door, and through the thin walls, you could hear soft, unfamiliar voices. Your breath was caught in your throat as you recognized a woman’s voice, distinct and unfamiliar, but laced with a strange resonance that made your skin crawl.

“From the beginning, you trapped me here, forced me to resonate with you, and even said we’re ‘the same’... One wouldn’t treat a stranger like that, so… don’t tell me you like me. Is this all so you can get my attention?” 

…

“You’re so gullible, kitten.” 

The twins, who were lounging nearby and keeping an eye on things as usual, saw you by their boss’s door and exchanged knowing glances. Luke, with his usual smirk, leaned in. “Oh, look who decided to show up. You’re just in time.”

Kieran, with a more serious tone, added, “He’s got a guest in there. A hunter from Linkon, with an Aether Core, no less.”

Your heart sank. The mention of an Aether Core was a dagger to your already shattered heart. Sylus’s connection to you had always been complex, but it was a lot different with this other woman he had been keeping an eye on for the longest time. They were marked by their shared Aether Core, which tied them together in ways you could never fully understand. To hear that he had met the girl he had been searching for with the same rare core was like a death knell.

“Since when did Sylus bring her here?” you asked the twins, struggling to keep your emotions in check. This was the real reason Sylus had asked you to take a break—he knew that the presence of this girl would push you to the edge of losing all sense of morality. For the first time in your life, he saw you as a threat. An enemy. 

Luke responded with a shrug. “A couple weeks ago after she leaked her information in The Nest. Boss has been trying to resonate with her, you see. So don’t mind their little bonding moments.” 

Kieran took the initiative to drag his older brother away. “We gotta get going. Don’t cause a scene, Y/N. You won’t like it when our boss is angry.” 

Disregarding the twins’ words, you pressed your hand against the door, the muffled sounds of conversation and the soft rustling of fabric seeping through. The realization of what this meant was crushing. Sylus’s soul was bound to this new woman in ways you could never compete with. And the anguish of this discovery broke you inside. 

Why? Why can’t it be me? 

With trembling hands, you turned the knob and pushed open the door just a crack to peer inside. The sight that met your eyes was enough to confirm your worst fears. Sylus was there, his attention fully on the woman from Linkon that he had pinned down on his bed, a tenderness in his gaze that had never been directed at you. 

Unable to bear the sight any longer, you quietly closed the door and retreated, and Sylus’s head turning in your direction only made you hide even further. You were already taking hurried steps before he could catch up to you. But then again, what kind of idiot would he be to leave that fragile girl alone to run after a woman he didn’t even care about? You were nothing but a placeholder for her, warming her seat temporarily before she finally came into the picture. And now that she was here, you were easily cast aside like worn-out clothing, no longer bearing any purpose for him. 

“…I hate you,” you muttered, the words barely a whisper as they escaped from your trembling lips. Running through the hallways had quickly become exhausting, each step felt like a drag with the weight of your emotions. “I hate you, Sylus.”

Your hands, shaking uncontrollably, grasped the Beryl pendant that hung around your neck. The sharp pain from the necklace’s chain digging into your skin only added to your anguish. And with a frustrated cry, you yanked the pendant off and hurled it down the hallway. The pendant skittered across the polished floor, its once-beautiful gleam now discarded like mere rubbish.

“What did we tell you?” The twins’ imaginary voices were mocking you in your head, their taunts reverberating through your thoughts as you headed out of the base with no footsteps following you behind. It became clear to you that Sylus had chosen to stay with the girl instead of chasing after you. “Just because boss gave you a chance, doesn’t mean he’ll actually date you! You poor thing! You’re just a game he likes to play!” 

“Stop. Stop!” You had to press your hands into your ear, suppressing the torture that your mind was creating.  

You decided to run away. Far, far away from Onychinus’s base. Far away from Sylus’s reach. 

Your footsteps echoed through the deserted streets, your mind still reeling in jealousy from the events you saw earlier. The image of the woman pinned under him, her dark hair and fair skin, had your hands shaking from the anger in your heart. She was as beautiful as he described, as radiant as he’d often whisper about in his dreams. And now that she was within his reach, did you really think he would let her go? 

~~

The night was cold, the air biting at your skin as you walked aimlessly, lost in a whirlwind of emotions and tortuous thoughts. The betrayal, the hurt, the lingering sense of being used—all of it churned within you, making your steps heavy and your heart even heavier.

“I… hate you,” you murmured under your breath. 

As you turned down a dark alley, a sudden prickle of unease crawled up your spine. You quickened your pace, but the sound of a second set of footsteps followed closely behind you. Panic set in as soon as you realized you were being stalked. 

Before you could react, however, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, blocking your path. The man’s eyes gleamed with malice, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “You no longer have Sylus to protect you,” he sneered, his voice dripping with menace. It was one of Davis’s men. “You're all alone now, and I'm going to make you pay for the death of our master.”

Fear gripped you like a tightrope, but before the man could take another step, a swirling mist of black-red enveloped him. The pressure of the mist seemed to squeeze his entire body, forcing him to his knees, his screams of terror cut short as if the mist were obeying commands from an unseen master.

You turned around, your heart pounding, to see Sylus standing at the edge of the alley. His domineering eyes bore into yours in a mixture of curiosity and cold calculation. “Should I kill this guy? Yes or no?” His voice was low and raspy. “My decision depends on you, kitten.”

Your gaze hardened after hearing the term of endearment he was now recycling with the hunter girl from Linkon. “I can handle him,” was your cold reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. You drew your gun with a swift motion and fired repeatedly, each shot bouncing in the narrow alley. The man’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Sylus watched you with an appraising look. “Impressive. Still feisty as ever.”

You then pointed your gun towards him, but keeping a safe enough distance. “Why were you following me?” you demanded, your tone cold as ice.

A chilling laugh echoed through the alleyway. “My own assistant wants to kill her boss? Now, isn’t that a spectacle?”

“Shut up!” you yelled, finger tightening on the trigger. “I don’t care if one bullet won’t kill you. I can shoot you enough times to make sure you’d at least feel some pain.”

Sylus sighed before reaching into his pocket and revealed the necklace, the red beryl pendant glinting in the dim light. “You forgot your gift,” he said, his voice softening ever so slightly.

You stared at the necklace, feeling a sting in your heart that you couldn’t ignore. “I’m not worthy of such a gift,” you replied monotonously, “Give it to her if you want. And also, take this night as my formal resignation as your assistant."

Sylus’s eyes widened, a rare look of surprise crossing his features. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. It seemed as if he was truly, genuinely stunned, caught off guard by your decision.

I can’t back out now. You repeated it like a desperate mantra in your mind as you turned and walked away, leaving Sylus standing alone in the dark alley, the necklace still clutched in his hand. You were done with his games, done with being played. You were determined to leave him behind, until suddenly, he vanished into a puff of black smoke. Dark feathers floated in the spot where he had stood moments ago. To your shock, he reappeared behind you, his hand forcefully grabbing your chin to make you look up at him.

You struggled, trying to wrench his hand away. “Let go—”

But he silenced you with a bruising kiss, locking his lips around yours despite your desperate punches to his chest. He only pulled away when he felt your warm tears streaming down your face, looking at you with a gaze full of unwanted sympathy. Sympathy that cut deeper than any blade.

“Are you happy she’s back in your life?” you choked out, your voice trembling as you stared at him with tear-filled eyes.

Sylus responded with a hesitant hum. “I am.”

You inhaled shakily, his answer shattering your heart. “Then, why are you here?”

“...I don’t know.” His crimson eyes reflected the sorrowful glow of the moon peeking from behind his head.

“Do you intend to keep me as your lover?” you asked, forcing him to confront his true intentions.

Sylus took a long, agonizing moment to respond, as if wrestling with a tumultuous storm of emotions—the pros and cons, the rights and wrongs. Finally, he spoke, and his words were a dagger to your soul.

“No,” he said at last, his hand retreating from your face. He stepped back and turned the distance between you into a chasm of heartbreak. “It’s been nice working with you, Y/N. I’ll send you a year’s worth of salary for your dedication to me. This should be the last time we meet.”

The weight of his words crashed down on you like an earthquake, and the full reality of your situation made it hard for you to breathe. Yes, it was a gut-punch. You were breaking in half, your heart shattering beyond repair because the pain was too much. It was all too much for a person to take, and it twisted something dark inside you.

“If I can’t have you,” you began, your voice shaking with an amalgam of rage and despair, “then no one can.”

Sylus’s eyes narrowed. “Y/N, you won’t dare—”

“I’ll kill her,” you spat, your tone dripping with venom. Your vow was laced with a genuine resolve, as if it were a promise you had embedded in stone. “The next time I see her, I’ll end her in the most brutal way I can. I swear it.”

His eyes flashed with a sinister light, one eye emitting a faint glow like a candlelight in a dark room. “If you try to go near her,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “I’ll kill you first.”

A twisted smile spread across your face, and madness began to gleam in your eyes. Driven to the brink of insanity, you laughed—a wild, almost feral sound that scared even the rats hiding in the darkest places.

“Then, do it,” you challenged, the final thread of your sanity snapping as he raised a finger, and the tendrils of his black-red mist soon swirling around you and crushing your bones with its pressure. “You’ve already taken everything from me, Sylus. Finish what you started.” 

SECOND PART

[ginalinettiofficial]

i think you shouldn't drive i'm being serious

love this ask first of all (/gen) but tbh i think YOU should never attempt to drive in chicago or any similar american major city IM being serious!! like i hear u 100% but 1) i’m bein a lil silly when i chit chat on tumblr dot com and 2) bein a defensive driver means keeping up w the flow of traffic and following the social rules of driving above all else and shit genuinely is different when you’re in a place with thousands upon thousands of cars on the road, a trend of road rage shootings, and a lot of dangerous weather conditions. if ur sitting in bumper to bumper traffic with thousands of ppl tryna race to not be late to work, and you don’t get close enough to the person in front of you, the people on either side of you will take that as invitation to cut you off a million times & can and do cause major crashes w it. if you brake too early in heavy traffic/leave too much space between you and the car in front of you while braking, it makes it difficult for the people behind you to anticipate the rate at which you’ll brake & causes rear enders. if you slow down too much on a turn or yellow light and it’s against the flow of traffic you run the risk of being rear ended. if cars around you are all doing 75 and you’re insisting on sticking to the 60mph speed limit you’re gonna get hit. truly most of my driver flaws are in fact things i do because i was specifically taught to do them in driver’s ed to be safer in city driving conditions!!!

that said i’m trying very much so to be more aware of if i’m tailgating outside of heavy traffic times and i’ve been told i’m doing much better w it than i used to!! & also i use my turn signal whenever it’d be dangerous for me to NOT do so - i prommy i’m just bein silly here and i strive to keep me and the cars around me safe, don’t worry

[amberautumnfaebrooke]

i think i could design a better death arena for children than those hunger games amateurs.

the whole premise of the games is all pageantry. every year you get a crop of 24 candidates around whom the entire state media apparatus dedicates an entire year to building celebrity narratives. this candidate is the younger sibling of last year's winner - these candidates are young lovers forced to compete - he's smart - she's fast - root for them, care about them, watch them, form opinions on them, bet on them. and then they stick them all in an arena to kill each other, which is a great entertainment premise, except that they make the arenas themselves really boring and generic. ooo, they're in...a forest.

it's not even an interestingly designed forest. imagine if the game designers treated their arena like an actual video game designer treats level design. discrete zones with multiple paths between each room, creative use of lighting to guide players to points of interest, points of interest scattered across the map, discoverable resources hidden to encourage exploration. instead they just have a generic outdoors location and if you get too close to the edge they throw a random fireball at you.

the 75th games are especially bad about this. the arena is laid out radially into 12 wedges, and each hour one wedge becomes especially dangerous in a 12-hour loop. as a mechanic, this is genius. it forces everyone to keep moving, making "survival by hiding" an engaging and tense viewing experience instead of someone sitting in a tree for three days. plus, it encourages players to return to the center of the arena, where travel time between wedges is short, which creates a high-value zone for players to regularly return to and conflict over. in other words, it's a mechanic which incentives players to adopt dramatic, dynamic, exciting behaviors which are entertaining to watch (not to mention it communicates geography to the audience well). but it only incentives those behaviors if the players understand what's happening, and they go out of their way not to tell the players anything! when they figure out what's going on, the showrunners spin the arena to disorient the players, like they're intentionally trying to get them to just. randomly wander the jungle instead.

this isn't even to mention how often they create undramatic, boring deaths. they plant poison berries around the arena. they supply no fresh water and no way to get it. they roll poison clouds over sleeping victims. these happen to work out in the books themselves but you have to imagine that extremely often these just result in players dying unexciting deaths.

the cardinal sin though, of course, is that nothing is done to personalize the arena for the crop of contestants that year. if i'm designing the 75th hunger games and two of my most beloved contestants famously had to cancel their wedding because of a return to the games, i would OBVIOUSLY give them a trail of, i don't know, wild game which conveniently leads directly past a well defended wedding chapel. will they hole up there for a while? hold a mock ceremony for themselves? do or receive ironic violence here? stare wistfully and move on? any of it is better television than getting attacked by generic attack monkeys. you should have a dozen of these things on the map for every single candidate. but the game makers are more interested in doing the same thing every other game has done than in telling a compelling story.

it makes me second guess enjoying the children's murder arenas at all.

[bethetiesthatbind]

What people get out of petitionary prayer, then, is not primarily the thing we think we are seeking. We might get that, as a second-order matter, but the [primary] thing we receive is friendship [with God]. Friendship is a good that can come from petition, precisely because God has drawn us into conversation with God about our desires, and when we state our desires, we are offering intimacy with our desiring and vulnerable selves.

Lauren F. Winner, The Dangers of Christian Practice: On Wayward Gifts, Characteristic Damage, and Sin (83)

[sgojoenthusiast]

angel.

✧.* toji fushiguro x reader

summary:

toji who never cared where he put it before. Ass, tits, hand, mouth, pussy. It was all the same to him. Until, that is, he met you.

cw: smut, oral, blowjobs, creampie, rough, sucker for simp toji tbh, orgasm denial ish

word count: 1.7k

likes, comments & reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

Toji who never cared where he put it before. Ass, tits, hand, mouth, pussy. It was all the same to him because the outcome was all the same. He’d come, and if she did too then that was that - he’d still get his shit together and leave before the glimmering beams of light began to intrude through the curtains and illuminate her face for just long enough for him to remember it.

To him, sex was never a romantic thing. It was simply a relief. A few brief moments of bliss before the almost immediate realisation of life dawned on him and he’d go back to his typical Monday stresses - his kid, the bills, what he was going to eat tonight, who he was going to kill.

But then, you came into his life. Oh, sweet, bewitching, perfect you. Now, his life had a purpose once more. Now, he woke up with something other than death in his bloodied, war-zone mind. He almost felt unworthy that a real-life angel had been sent to him from above - what had he done to deserve it? You were an animated depiction of the dictionary definition of beauty.

Not only had you invaded his life and imposed all of your perfect elements onto him, such as the way you cared, the way you spoke, and the way you behaved, but you had also completely disfigured the way he fucked.

He couldn’t bear the idea at first. The concept of defiling someone so utterly perfect with all of his corruption and sin was unfathomable. He was a vile guy, yeah, but not even he could tarnish such purity as yourself. However, when the two of you got back to your place after a long date, and he walked you up to your apartment for your own safety (he tells a lie - there was a very slim chance of any danger proposing itself to you in the short walk to your apartment. He simply just couldn't part your side just yet), how was he supposed to ever resist you when you turned around to face him before slowly undoing the top buttons of your blouse as you took his hand and led him straight to your room?

That night, he fucked you in every imaginable way possible - yet the idea of finishing anywhere but inside of your cunt made him feel ill, and has done ever since.

Why would he come anywhere but deep inside of your pussy? Why wouldn’t he want to fill you up to the very brim, stuffed full of his come until it was spilling out uncontrollably? The mere thought of it left him perplexed.

In moments like this, where you’re on your knees with your delicate hands gripping onto his thighs and your soft tongue gliding over the veins of his cock - he found it gruelling to refrain from spilling himself into the back of your throat.

His hand rested on your head, not applying any force to allow you to set your own pace. His head was thrown back and his eyes scrunched in a murderous delight. Every second he spent keeping himself from finishing was a second he struggled to pull you off his dick and throw you onto his sheets.

There was nothing wrong with your mouth - fuck, was there nothing wrong with your mouth - it felt like he was finally experiencing the heaven he’d never truly seen. But when he said that the thought of coming anywhere but your pussy made him ill, he meant it.

You’d asked him so nicely to suck him off, as well. Gotten on your knees the second he got home from his mission as your hands hesitantly danced around his belt, awaiting his approval. He could see the disappointment in your eyes flash for a scarce moment when he asked you to get up - yet the squeal of delight that escaped your parted lips when he scooped you up into his arms and threw you over his shoulder as he began to head for your bedroom made up for every fraction of disappointment he caused you. So how was he supposed to

“Does it not feel good, Toji?” You asked, coaxing him out of his stupor. His head snapped down to look at you with puzzlement in his eyes, asking you all the questions floating about on the tip of his tongue with just one single glance, yet you heard him all the same. “Just, you haven’t came yet and you’ve hardly made any noise.”

Guilt washed over him in waves as he stared at your saddened eyes pouting up at him in confusion. That guilt began to dim when standing next to the conflicting lust he felt at the way his cock throbbed threateningly from the way you were looking up at him with that captivating pout as your hand lazily continued to stroke his cock.

“I.. Fuck, angel. I just can’t do it.”

“What do you me-“ Before you could finish your reply, Toji had you raised in his arms once again as he tossed you onto your bed.

“I gotta cum in this pretty cunt, angel. I can’t explain it, I just have to. Please let me come in your pussy.” He pleaded with you, eyes wide and swimming in oceans of desire. When you slowly nodded up at him, still feeling the lingering surprise from the sudden switch of positions, he wasted no more time talking.

There was no room for questions, not when his tongue was being shoved down your throat and his tip was prodding your hole. How had you gotten so wet just from sucking on his dick? He almost resented himself for not tending to your own needs earlier, but if anyone else had such a filthy mouth wrapped so delightfully around their cock - they wouldn’t be able to think straight either.

A string of curses fell from his lips as he pushed himself inside of you, his forehead resting against your own as your lips parted in pleasure from the way he poked that perfect spot inside of you almost immediately.

He couldn’t ever help himself. You were so magnetic. The way you were sprawled on the mattress as he lifted himself up and threw your leg over his shoulder as he began to pound his cock deep inside of you - it was like streaks of heaven beamed down on you, worshipping you as they should.

The feeling of your pussy helplessly stretching around him, combined with his previous denial of his own orgasm was sending him into an unavoidable spiral - one he was sure he’d feel the effects of for the rest of his days. If he could spend the rest of his life with you looking so angelic underneath him as he thrusted his hardened cock in and out of your wet pussy, he would take that offer in a heartbeat - no matter the cost.

You felt so good around him, sucking him in as if it was the last thing you’d ever do. Toji was no better, his relentless pace and screwed-shut eyes demonstrated that he was losing himself in his pleasure. His hand that wasn’t wrapped securely around your leg reached down to begin stimulating your clit, toying with it so teasingly.

If Toji couldn’t handle it, then you sure as hell couldn’t. Your hands were scrambling for some sort of stability - needing something that could keep you securely in the grasp of sanity’s hands before you succumbed.

Your moans merged with Toji’s, a mixture of broken whines and disgruntled groans echoed throughout the room as you borderline began to scream around his cock - your hands quickly moving to cover your face and muffle your sounds as a sense of rationality clicked in your brain when you realised that your neighbours were most likely either having one hell of a laugh or phoning the police due to a suspected murder scene occurring in your apartment.

Toji wasn’t satisfied though. He couldn’t come outside of your pussy, and he couldn’t come without the sight of your face and the reverberating noises that left your swollen lips. When had he become so picky? He grumbled words of disapproval as his hand left your pulsating clit in order to force your hands above you - the room immediately flooding with the sound of your moans once more - much to Toji’s delight.

He could feel his impending orgasm begin to creep up on him once more, and so he wasted no time as he lifted your other leg over his shoulder and put all of his force into his harsh thrusts. His hand went back to your clit - desperate for you to finish at the same time as him. One after the other, he kept pounding and pounding your poor, abused cunt until there was nothing but a puddle of wetness and a hole practically moulded into his cock.

It was always the familiar feeling of your pussy tightening around him, signalling to him your own orgasm, that sent him those shockwaves of pleasure as he braced himself for the heavy ropes of cum that he was about to fill you up with at any given moment - his pleasure building up at an unstoppable pace as he began to pant out a warning to you.

“Fuck, angel. Gonna come in this slutty little cunt of yours, yeah? Better keep that shit in this time.” He demanded, his voice carrying an authoritative tone that left no space for discussion - not that you could when your entire body had ceased to function at the intensity of your orgasm.

Truly, there was no feeling quite like the one where he was stuffing you full of his cum. He was certain that he’d never get enough of it. Not when it had him throwing his head back with a rough groan and one of his hands gripping the sheets in a deathly hold.

He was so overtaken by his orgasm that he hadn’t processed the feeling of falling onto his back - a gentle hand pushing his chest and silk sheets embracing his back. Nothing could ever change the fact that your lips pressed against his own, could pull him out of a lifelong coma - so when he recognised the press of your soft lips against his own, his eyes sprung to life and his hands flew to your hips - which had somehow found themselves mounted over his torso.

“You wanna fill me up again, handsome?” You laughed, like a goddess above him. He doesn’t think his dick has ever gotten that hard so fast before.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: came out of hiding for this one

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟsgojoenthusiast

[be-a-muslim-1st]

[devildomcuties]

When you/they find out, fingertips are an erogenous zone

thank you for the request! I tried this with my husband and i don't think i did it correctly but i tried my best in writing this, so I hope it's close to what you requested! video

🕷 pairing: demon brother x gn!reader

🕷 wc: 1.8k

🕷 warnings: pet names (babe, treasure, baby, love, doll, cupcake, little moon), suggestive content (18+), licking, biting, and sucking on fingers, shared bath, food mention, mention of oral sex

Lucifer 

Lucifer was used to your odd shenanigans after being on your D.D.D. all evening, so when you walked into his bedroom with a bashful smile, he knew you were up to something.  

“What is it that you saw this time?” Lucifer asks as he looks up from his book. He raises a brow when you don’t respond immediately. Sighing, he shuts his book and sets it on the nightstand. 

“Well, I saw this video,” you start as you walk toward him. “And apparently fingertips are considered an erogenous zone…” 

Lucifer gives you a few seconds to continue, but he smirks when you don’t. 

“Is there something you’d like to try, babe?”

You can feel your face heat as he eyes you playfully. Whatever you’ve seen, you’ve been dying to get him alone, in his bedroom no less.

“It’s silly,” you say as you try to backtrack but his hand wraps around your wrist gently to keep you in place. You refuse to meet his gaze, his fingers gripping your chin to make you look up at him.

“You never have to hide from me, babe. Now, show me what you learned,” he instructs as he releases your wrist and places his wrist in your hand. 

You take it gingerly, pressing your fingertips to his with some pressure before dragging them down his arm. Lucifer watches you curiously, surprised when his body responds to your fingertips.

“Do it again,” he commands and you gladly do so.

This time, Lucifer shuts his eyes and inhales sharply. He cups your face and kisses you when you take your hand off him.

He’ll spend the rest of the night doing the same to you.

Mammon 

Boredom rarely came to you when you were at HOL. Normally, you’d be with one of the brothers, whichever happened to steal you away for the moment.

Today, Mammon had won. 

“Mammon,” you whine from his bed as he sits at his desk counting Grimm.

“Just a minute, Treasure,” he responds as he continues counting. 

“But I want to show you something,” you pout, lying on his bed. 

Mammon hums, finishing his counting before getting into bed beside you. 

“What is it, Treasure?” 

“This,” you giggle as you take his hand in yours. You press your fingertips to his own, dragging them up his arm before your nails lightly dig into his skin. 

Mammon moans immediately, surprising himself. 

“What did you do, Treasure?” he asks with wide eyes as you smile bashfully. You repeat your actions, eyes glued to the sinful reactions Mammon gives you.

“Fuck, Treasure,” he groans as he moves to straddle your hips. He pins your arms over your head, fingers laced together. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

“Gladly,” you grin.

Levi

You’d been in Levi’s bedroom all evening. You had played games, read some of his new manga, and alphabetized his most recent purchases.

Now you were sitting beside him while he played his new RPG. Unfortunately for you, it was single-player, so all you could do was watch.

You knew the moment you tried to leave, he’d beg you to stay, and you couldn’t resist him. You were head over heels for him, and he knew it.

“Levi,” you pout. “Pay attention to me.”

Your whines don’t go unanswered as he briefly looks at you. “Y-yeah?”

“Play with me,” you whine. 

Levie blushes, thoughts heading into dangerous territory before his game garners his attention again. 

Frowning, you take his free hand in your own. Levi goes to protest but is surprised when you bring his fingertips to your lips. Gently, you kiss each of them as he quits his game to stare at you. 

You ignore him as you take his finger into your mouth, your teeth gently sinking into the pad of his finger. Levi watches on with astonishment, biting back a moan as his face burns red. His cock twitches in his pants, and his breathing grows heavy as your tongue swirls around his finger.

“Are you going to play with me now, Levi?” you ask with a smile before you take his finger back into your mouth, sucking and nipping at his fingertip.

“Yeah, I-I am,” Levi stutters as you bite him a little harder just to watch his eyes roll to the back of his head. 

Satan

“What did I miss?” you ask as you wake from your nap. Satan chuckles as you sit up, your hair mussed from tossing and turning in your sleep. He’s smiling when he fixes your hair with one hand and uses the other to mark his place in his book.

“What are you reading?” you ask as you sit up, moving to sit between his legs with your back pressed to his chest.

Satan shows you the cover of his book, and your eyes widen as you read the title.

31 Erogenous Zones of the Human Body.

“Oh?” you perk up, ignoring the flush of heat rising to your cheeks.

Satan smirks. “There are the obvious ones. You know, the lips, the neck, the chest.”

You nod as you open the book to the page he was on and Satan rests his chin on your shoulder. “But this one is interesting. The fingertips are sensitive, and so are the palms and wrists.”

“Have you ever tried it on a human?” you ask, feeling Satan’s chest rumble as he laughs.

“Baby, do you think I’d tolerate any other human close enough to figure out what their erogenous zones are? There’s only you, my love. That’s why I ordered this book as soon as I saw it.” Satan explains as he places the book aside.

He takes your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and kissing the palm. His teeth scrape the end of your palm, making you sigh as he kisses his way to your wrist. He sucks the sensitive skin, feeling you go limp in his hold.

“So responsive,” he teases as he continues to kiss his way upward, watching you unravel right before him.

You were in for a long night of pleasure.

Asmo

“Doll, am I happy to see you!” Asmo exclaims when he comes out of the bathroom fresh from his shower.

“You texted me to come in here,” you respond with a smile. You managed to sneak around HOL with just the robe Asmo had gifted you this morning. Now you were heading into the bathtub with Asmo to scrub and pamper you until he was content.

Asmo is gentle with his touch as he rubs your shoulders with his hands. He’s on his knees as he raises your arm out of the tub to rub a loofah over your skin. Something about the rough texture makes you moan as you shut your eyes to focus on the pleasure.

Humming, Asmo continues, giggling when you moan his name and sink into the tub further. “You seem to be enjoying this more than usual, Doll.”

“Feels good,” you state as Asmo adds more pressure to your arm with the loofah before tossing it to the other side of the tub. 

“Fuck it,” Asmo curses as he takes his bathrobe off and joins you in the tub. He wraps his arms around your waist pulling you to his chest as he kisses your neck and shoulders. “You’re too intoxicating to resist.”

Silently, Asmo grabs your wrist, pulling your arm towards him. Slowly, he rubs your arm, nails scratching your skin softly until he adds more pressure on the next run.

His name rolls off your tongue, back arching slightly as his lips meet your shoulder. “Such a pretty little doll for me.”

Beel

“You know, when you mentioned having a snack, I didn’t think you meant everything in the Devildom,” you tease as you push your unfinished candy bar toward Beel.

Beel takes it. He eats it immediately before moving on to the next chocolate bar. “Just a little something before dinner.”

“Is Belphie in the attic again?” you ask as you move to sit in his lap.

“Yeah, he said my snacking was keeping him awake,” Beel shrugs as he opens another chocolate bar.

You giggle, shaking your head.

“What’s so funny, Cupcake?” Beel asks as he finishes his chocolate.

“Nothing. It just means I have you all to myself,” you grin, taking his wrist and bringing his chocolate-covered fingers to your lips.

Beel eyes you curiously as you wrap your lips around his finger, sucking the chocolate off and nipping his fingertip.

Beel moans when you release his finger and take another into your mouth. He’s not surprised when his cock stirs in his pants when you suck his finger clean, swirling your tongue around the tip. 

When you’re done sucking his fingers, Beel slams his lips on yours. His sticky hands grip the back of your head as he deepens the kiss to taste the sweetness of the chocolate on your tongue. Your hips grind down on his, moaning into his mouth as he groans your name when your hands fist his shirt, nearly tearing it off his body.

Beel didn’t think something as simple as sucking and biting on his fingers would turn him on so much, but all he can think of now is stuffing your mouth full of his cock.

Belphie

“Moon?” Belphie asks sleepily when he feels you stir in his arms. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a bad dream,” you gently stroke his hair. “Nothing to worry about.”

Belphie frowns, he’s tried to take your bad dreams away. Keeping you at his side at bedtime to help keep the nightmares away. He can filter most of them out, but some still slip through. He’ll have to ask Lucifer or Solomon if there’s anything else he can do to rid you of these dreams.

You know as long as he and his brothers are around, harm will not come to you. But still, these bad dreams persist.

Belphie laces your fingers together, kissing your hand before kissing each of your fingers.

“You’re safe with me, Moon. You always will be,” he promises as he takes your palm and lightly runs his nails over the tender skin. You nod, curling into his side as he continues to stroke your palm with his fingertips, alternating between rubbing and scratching it gently.

“It tickles,” you grin as he brings your hand to his lips, teeth sinking into your wrist. You moan, melting into a puddle beside him. Belphie smiles sleepily as he does it again, kissing your lips before lacing your fingers together.

“Go to sleep, Little Moon. I’ll keep all the dangers away,” Belphie promises, as you rest your head on his chest and fall asleep a few minutes later.

©devildomcuties - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms.

[lacybunie]

adieu, mon dieu!

“forgive me, father, for i have committed the biggest sin of all!”

pairing: afab!reader x re4r!leon

warnings: smut, virginity loss, blasphemy, dub-con, inexperienced/pure reader, religious reader, manipulation, cum eating, creampie, pussy slapping, pet names, breeding kink, slight choking, crying during sex, age gap mention (reader is 19 while leon is 27), fingering, porn with plot (?), bit of ooc leon

note: first time writing hence why it’s so long :3 also wrote this based on leon saying “i’ll give you a holy body” in re4r bc nobody freaks out over it like i do

“holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners.” the prayer is muscle memory. a smile adorns your face as you walk out of sunday mass with your family. oh how you cherish the time spent in god’s temple. you would not have it any other way. this small, quiet town in washington homes jesus freaks like yourself. where every summer, all children through teens spend their time at church camp. cross necklaces or rosaries are worn around the necks of bypassers and neighbors. you feel as though you are blessed with such a life.

so when leon appears in your life, you think you’re the most blessed girl alive. as the two of you go steady, he starts attending church with you and listens to the word of the lord with you in his black jeep. he listens to your prayers and readings of the bible. leon couldn’t be anymore perfect. “our heavenly father has blessed me with a man who loves me.” pink hues flush your cheeks as you smile giddishly during confession. “do not let temptation fool you.” the priest on the other side taunts, almost as if it’s a warning.

the people of the church disagree with the relationship you have with leon, the eight year gap between you two. more so, they dislike leon. they tell you he is not a man of the lord, he is a walking sin. they share their stories of glancing at him during mass and how he’s appearing to hold back laughter, how he doesn’t actually consume the blood and body of christ, how his eyes are filled with something evil. you choose to not believe them as they don’t know leon as you do. “he is nothing like that, sister olivia.” you defend during sunday lunch, biting your tongue. “you have found the devil in a lover.” sister olivia spews with disgust.

her words are a distraction during your date, echoing and bleeding into the grooves of your brain. “sweetheart?” leon calls as he catches your zoned out state. your eyes connect with his, you break yourself out of thought. “i’m sorry, i was just lost in thought.” you apologize, gleaming with a shy smile. the warmth of leon’s hand engulfs yours across the table, the cold silver of your ring turning hot. “i was asking if you would want to go back to my place after this?” leon repeats what you had muffled seconds ago.

“i’ll have to ask my dad first.” you embarrassingly respond as pinks heat your cheeks. there’s limited privacy with leon, daytime stays at his home with an hour max limit and once every two weeks only. your father implemented this as a way to keep a better peace of mind. “c’mon sweetheart, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” leon persuades with sugar on his tongue. the veil of orange from the candles illuminating the table is covering his face, you might just burst from the ethereal beauty he holds. he’s saying something color-coded yet it’s muffled as the tidal wave of his eyes are drowning you. “okay.” you mindlessly respond, leon faintly smirks.

the little skirt you wear is almost halfway off while you and leon makeout on his couch, something you shamelessly leave out during confessions. you keep your hands on his broad shoulders while he dangerously lingers his hands at your hips and thighs. you think you’re seeping through your panties as you feel a wet patch forming, making you feel bothered. “i feel weird.” you pant between a kiss, lungs aflame from the little oxygen you grant yourself. leon pulls away with furrowing eyebrows, “did i do something wrong?”

yet you’re struggling to understand what IS wrong. why do you feel so…wet down there? maybe you started your period but you realize it ended a week ago. leon’s eyes are burning into your skin, the gaze causing you to feel mortified. how can you tell him this? what if he thinks you’re weird? his girlfriend is wetting herself like a damn fool for no reason. “what is it?” that soft tone of his makes you feel even worse. embarrassment is starting to creep itself into the flesh of your body.

“i feel wet.” you say it so clearly and slowly as if you’re dumbing it down for yourself. you don’t know why you feel like this and you don’t know why it’s happening. leon smiles at the frustration you show, clearly not thinking of your situation weirdly. “that’s a good thing, doll.” he coos while holding your hands. head tilting and ditzy eyes searching for an answer, you are clueless by how this is a good thing. “what do you mean, leon?” “you’re turned on, that’s what i mean.” the blood pumping into your heart turns cold at the realization of what you have let yourself done. one of the deadliest sins of all: lust

how can you let yourself get carried away and almost give into something sacred? something you promised to your heavenly father that you will wait till marriage to do? you clutch the rosary wrapped around your neck, “please forgive me. i’m sorry, leon.” you think leon must be feeling the same way too, realizing you both almost gave into sin. oh how awful he must feel, to almost have betrayed the lord and gave into temptation. leon searches your face in hopes to find something you’re not sure of. “why are you apologizing?” he questions, hands no longer embracing your own.

“for getting you caught up in almost sinning.” “it’s not a bad thing to be turned on.” his voice is laced with something unfamiliar, a tone you’re not even aware of. “but it can lead to having sex and we’re not-” “there’s nothing bad about having sex either.” leon interrupts with annoyance. you can’t fathom how he thinks premature sex is not bad, he’s read the bible with you countless times. the purity ring wrapped around your finger symbolizes the commitment you vowed to and he’s reminded every time he holds your hand. “we can’t have sex, leon. you know that.”

“do you not love me?” leon is frowning at you, taking you aback with his words. “i love you, leon. of course i do.” you profusely confess as you get closer to him. the weight of your chest growing heavy while he shakes his head. “you’re supposed to have sex with the one you love right? then why don’t you? if you love me enough, then it’s not sin.” leon preaches with eyes glimmering with something indescribable. “we won’t have sex, we’ll be making love. that’s different. the lord doesn’t view it as sin.”

different strokes of blue are piercing into your soul, almost like his eyes are trapping you. your mind is foggy as you try to think of something to say. “i don’t think...” you trail off with unsure certainty, but what you want to actually say becomes lost in thought as leon’s cherry-bruised lips pull apart in a smile. you think he’s right, it’s something you probably skimmed over. cold hands caress your bare thighs, leon’s lips kiss the skin below your jaw. “you know i’m right, doll.” he mutters while his teeth lightly nip your skin, you grow hot. “i would never lie to such a pretty angel.”

“i’ll make you feel so good.” leon promises with his hands scrunching up your skirt. the sudden action causing your heart to burst within itself. your dry mouth defeats the words wanting to escape, to tell him to not touch there. you’re also battling the urge to let yourself do so as his hands grasp your inner thigh, sending a rush throughout your body. doe eyes noticing the way leon is looking at you as if you’re a sheep, tethered in his sharp teeth, bracing to become a meal.

two fingers rub you over your panties, the new feeling quickly has you inhale sharply. butterflies flutter around in your abdomen. leon hums as his fingers gather your essence that is leaking through the fabric. “there you are, pretty.” leon lays you further down on the couch. his lips kiss you again roughly and you grip at his bicep as his hands quickly discard your skirt. leon impatiently pulls away from your lips to look at the newly found view, lilac panties adorned with a baby blue ribbon. leon’s favorite color.

the wetness from earlier feels as if it’s completely soaking the fabric. you feel utterly exposed like this, so vulnerable in front of leon. “you’re so fucking sexy.” he sighs out once he finally removes the one thing keeping him away from your forbidden fruit. “please leon.” you’re unsure if you’re begging or pleading. the temperature of your body is uncomfortably hot and you’re sure it’s because your soul is already spiraling down to hell. you want to stop leon from inserting his finger into your sopping cunt, but of course you don’t.

“have you ever touched yourself, doll?” leon asks, while fingering you agonizingly slow. you crave for more, not exactly sure of what. you need more of him. you’re heaving at this point, staring into leon’s eyes as he watches you unfold before him, a flower blooming almost too late. “i’m not supposed to.” you choke out the answer while he begins to messily rub your clit. the smirk resting on leon’s lips is haunting you, why does he always look so desirable with that stupid smirk?

“says who? your god?” leon pushes a second finger into your sopping hole, an uncomfortable stretch soon followed by an indescribable pleasure. the erotic sounds of your cunt being touched for the first time reach your hot pink ears. leon curls his fingers against your spongey walls causing you to squirm. the imaginary coil in your lower stomach feels like it’s on the brink of snapping.

“yes.” you moan while he lightly slaps your cunt. “what kind of god deprives his children of a pleasure such as this? don’t you feel good, angel? i know your pussy sure does.” leon smiles at your reaction for his choice of words, you forget how blunt he tends to be. “d-don’t say that.” “your god can’t be all that great if he won’t even let me feel how your pussy squeezes around my fingers.” the blasphemy hits you like a gunshot only temporarily, the pleasure you’re receiving rids it right away.

you’re shaking your head but you don’t know if it’s from the frustration of leon speaking against the lord or if you’re about to reach sweet relief. “leon.” you hiccup, the pleasure becoming too much and your mind is turning into mush. a tight grip on leon’s bicep has him chuckling, looking down at you so pathetically. “you look so fucking stupid. go ahead and cum for me, pretty.” he grants while your cunt is squeezing so tightly around his digits.

back arching off the couch along with the most pornographic moan to ever come out of your chest, the coil snaps. waves of ecstasy crashes within your body, releasing out of your sopping hole. your thighs are shaking to snap close but leon doesn’t let it happen as he gathers your essence up with his fingers. “god, you’re just so fucking perfect.” leon grunts before sticking his own fingers in his mouth, the honey he has been craving falls onto his tongue. you feel yourself get dizzy at the sight.

leon reaches down to give you a messy kiss, tasting your cum on his tongue. “wanna fuck you.” he moans into your mouth, his jeans rub against your cunt and you’re sure your cum smeared onto the denim. you want to stop right here, you want to run straight to church and plead for your life in the confessional booth. however, when leon pulls away to strip off his pants and his fat, long cock hits his abdomen, you feel that indescribable want grow stronger.

your breathing becomes heavy as leon rubs the tip of his cock at your entrance. his cock looks too big for you, fearing he’ll split you open. the taste of bitter metallic hits your tongue and you realize you’re biting your bottom lip too hard. “i’m so lucky.” leon grunts, dragging his thumb across your bleeding lip. “get to be the first to fuck this virgin pussy.” he barely pushes the tip into your tight cunt when you start crying. the pain of slight tearing mixed with the eternal damnation you’re going to face is cutting at your skin. “please.” your vision is blurry through the tears when leon pushes his cock fully into you, you can hear him let out a deep groan.

the way leon’s cock feels inside of you makes you feel so full. the pain of being ripped open for the first time is soon subsided by a mind clouded with desire, yet you’re still crying. leon moves in and out slowly but roughly, hitting a spot within you just right. you moan wearily, salty tears trickling down into your agape mouth. when leon begins to thrust a bit more hard, you’re sobbing out loud moans. leon presses his hand against your throat, “so fucking loud.” he’s snapping his hips into you, his cock bruising the inside of your cunt so sweetly that you feel the coil about to snap again.

“need to shut that mouth of yours next time.” leon grunts, looking at you in a haze. he squeezes your throat as if to test the waters and you choke out a needy moan, your cunt almost suffocating his cock at the action. “such a nasty girl.” leon smirks while picking up the pace of the abuse on your cunt. baby pink nails are scratching at leon’s biceps. you slur out an apology, clearly not in the right headspace to realize that leon is toying with the rosary tangled in your neck. “oh my-” you cut yourself off when leon’s cock repeatedly hits against a spot so sweet, the coil in your stomach feels like it’s tightening.

“say it.” leon taunts. his hand reaches down to messily rub at your clit once more, your eyes flutter shut. you know what he wants and you don’t think you can push yourself further into damnation by saying the lord’s name in vain. “c’mon, doll. tell your god how my cock is making you feel.” leon tightly wraps his fingers around the dainty rosary, you’re pleading at him through your eyes, mouth too occupied by the moans you let out. “leon please.” you cry out, you’re not sure if you’re begging him to stop the blasphemy or to make you cum.

leon soon loses himself in your cunt, grasping at your hips to drill his cock deeper in you. the stars in your eyes are getting brighter, you’re almost there. dirty blonde hair covers leon’s eyes, relieving yourself of the gaze he had on you. “gonna fucking breed you.” leon laps at your neck, biting at your soft skin as if it’s the bread he eats at church. “you want that? want me to fill you up?” you moan out a incoherent yes, too fucked out to understand what he’s even saying. leon captures your lips in a heated kiss, tongues relentlessly clash against each other.

leon’s cock hits that sweet spot one final time before the coil within you finally snaps. “oh my god, leon!” you moan so loudly, throat becoming faintly sore. your body is shaking at the ecstasy that’s somehow stronger than before, nails clawing at leon’s back that you feel like you may draw blood. “there you go, angel.” leon’s words are drowned out by pure euphoria. you feel the warm essence escape out of your cunt but it’s soon mixed with another hot feeling, leon’s own cum. he desperately shoves his cock into you to rid himself of every last drop. you look down to where you two are connected, the lewd sight brings you back down to earth.

if anyone were to rip open your chest to view the way your heart is pounding, almost punching itself out, they’d think you murdered a man. the burden of betrayal is sitting heavy on your shoulders, all the prayers in the world couldn’t save you now. when you look at leon, who is taking in the sight of his cum dripping out of your cunt, the thought begins to become a crimson haze. a string of pearl beads clutched in leon’s fist catches your eye, you look up at him. a blue hue meet yours, the once bright shade now dark. leon lets out a daunting chuckle, “won’t be needing that anymore.”

sprawled out on his palm is a broken chain along with a few pearls and a tiny cross. leon ripped off your rosary.

[dragonmonstermilk]

Caught by the big bad wolf

Charcaters: Hoolay x guard!Reader

tw: (implied) fem!reader, (very much) size difference, degrading and praising, knot, pet names (human), (implied) semi-public sex, Hoolay is chained up, (kinda) corruption kink, belly bulge, (lot of) porn with plot, Hoolay's past (mentions of violence, abuse and death), manipulation, (slightly) dubcon, (if you squint) overstimulation, squirt

OK....idk if any of y'all have played the new patch of honkai:star rail but there are these new enemies (Borisins) who are werewolf and they are so hot, esp Hoolay (HE SO DAMN BIG SO..HOW COULDN'T I WRITE ABOUT HIM) !!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧*ੈ✩‧₊˚༘⋆࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

It passed a week since you were transferred to patrol the lower level of the Shackiling Prison. To be honest you were scared, and you had all the right to be it. The last floor was very dangerous, not because it was so dark you could barely see your shadow, even if there where a few lamps scattered here and there on the wall. You were scared because locked up there are the most dangerous individuals who committed serious crimes. These were forced to be imprisoned for all eternity while being muzzled, chained up, tortured and, if the sins they committed where more than gravious to be where they where, they would be starved. Of course, whoever received this punishment would be dead in a few weeks. Or, at least, that's what the superiors said to the novice guards.

As you reached down, taking a bit of time, you finally arrived. Before starting to patrol you take a deep breath, clutching your weapon. Steps echoed through the big hallways, locking everywhere to make sure that everything was good. You arrived at the most perilous zone: the right side of the cells. Here there was only a monster, the most dangerous in all Xianzhou, Hoolay. Your general advised you to be very careful around him, since he was quite hungry from all of the decades who passed without eating.

You reminisce the story of Hoolay, told you and to your fellow companions from your general. Hoolay is an abomination of Abundace and Lord of Borisins. He was held accountable for numerous acts of invasions, associated war crimes, and for long-term enslavement of Foxians and utilizing their blood for alchemical purposes. Hoolay, after being sentenced was transferred to the Shackiling Prison. The terms of his imprisonment was that he was to be subjected to the punishment of the Forest of Swords and never be pardoned. While the punishment was meant to be fatal and Hoolay was not given any food, he was somehow able to survive for hundreds of years without sustenance while the wounds inflicted by the Forest of Swords would simply restore themselves.

You take a few big breaths before opening the cell and going inside.There he is. Luckily he's all chained up, but better to keep a safe distance. As you try to keep yourself as far away as possible you look at Hoolay, who didn't seem to have noticed your presence. As a borisin, Hoolay is broad and lean, with powerful jaws and neck muscles. He has well-developed canine teeth, beast-like ears on top of his heads, and sharp claws on his hands and feet. Seeying his stance you are affascinated and intrigued. You squeal in surpirese as a sudden low voice speaks to you.

"Are you new here, human?" the chains jingles as Hoolay looks down at you. His very big figure towering over your much smaller one.

"Y-yes, but why would you ask" your voice trembling as you fear he could snap free from the chains (totally impossible, but you never know, no?).

Hoolay scoffs. His chains moving again.

"Come closer, human" his deep voice makes you feel something inside. Not wanting to make him angry than he could be possibly be, you do as he says, still being some metres away from him. He scoffs again, this time almost as if he is satisfied and amused. "Are you that afraid of me, human?" his voice roaring in the big cell. What could you answer him? Of course you were scared of him! He's so big, towering all over you. He could kill you just with his hand!

Hoolay didn't really expect an answer for you, but something was moving inside his head. He smirked, the scarce lighting reveling his big and sharp teeths. "Human" Hoolay stops before continuing "You don't need to be afraid of me. Come closer and I'll shall answer every question you have for me". You were confused. Why some big prisoner monster would ask you to make him some questions?

You ponder for a few moments. Hoolay waiting for an answer. "I don't want to ask you any questions", your tone firm and, again, Hoolay smirks. Suddenly a puppy like cry, like someone stepped on a puppy's tail. You look at Hoolay, panicked.

"Are you alright?! What happened?" you try to check if something is gone into his leg paws, but you could barely see. As panicked as you are, Hoolay smirks again, everything going according to his plan. "My hand! My hand hurt!" he cries out again, holding back a laugh. You are so naive.

You nod, and mumbling a few sorries you climb up is toned body, feeling his muscles under you. You slighty blush and brush off whatever you feeling with a coff. As you're on Hoolay biceps, he licks his face, your good smell making him hard, as well as the view of your back. You reach for the hanging chain, loosen it enough to free Hoolay's hand. As soon as his hand is free he laughs. Before you could even ask, he takes you in his hand, gently squeezing you.

"W-what" a puzzle look on your face.

"Foolish human. How could you believe that me, Hoolay Lord of Borisins, could get easily hurt?" his voice echoing in the cell, gently squeezing your tiny body. "You don't imagine how I'm so hungry"

His tone was lower than before and you where squirming in his hand as every now and then he squeezed your little body. You wanted to scream but your voice was blocked in your throat. Tears were forming in your eyes as you thought that was your end. What didn't you expect tho was that Hoolay wasn't hungry for food, but he was hungry for sex. It's been decades since he had a mate and he was so pent up that your scent drove him crazy.

With one of his long and sharp claws, he cut off your clothes. His big face sniffing your body. He groaned and opened his hand. His longue and big tongue licking all over you and then arriving at your sensitive spot. You arched your back, your body trembling from the pleasure he was giving you. "N-no, please" you cried out as his tongue was already overstimulating you. What made you come so soon was that he sucked your little bud mixing it with his tongue. His groans? Making so many vibrations that had you coming on him quickly.

"You taste so good, human. I can't wait to fuck you with my cock and knot you. You're going to be my mate, forever"

"Forever?!" You were shocked. A borisin, the LORD of borising wanting YOU to be his mate?! That is crazy, that's absolutely no sense. You pinch yourself a dew times, believing you are dreaming. Hoolay chuckled.

"Poor little human, can't believe I'm serious? Then I'll show it right now". His laugh echoed in the cell, the weak lighting making in evidence the most dangerous traits of him. As Hoolay put you on his (enourmous) cock you squealed as you clenched. Hoolay looked down at you, amused by every reaction you had. Without thinking you began to grind your hips on him, muffling your moans. You could feel his leaky tip under you, how his cock throbbed more and more as you moved your hips. "That's it, yes", Hoolay groaned as his large paw grabbed your hips, moving you faster. "What a greedy human you are". You whined at his words as you came on him for the second time. But you wanted more, even if you're were feeling all dizzy and overstimulated but your hole wanted more, wanted to feel that enormous cock inside you.

You looked up at Hoolay with puppy eyes, that smirk reappiring once again in his face. No words needed that Hoolay entered your hole, the stretch made your hips jerks away from his but, keeping his hand on you, he made you come back to his cock. The pain of stretch was giving you pleasure and your brain was completely turned off as you felt him inside you, forming a visible belly bulge. Hoolay sighed of relief, finally his cock could feel some warm walls after decades of not touching it and not having someone to help him with his heat.

"Such a good human" he groaned as his hips move forth and back, your walls sucking him deeper and deeper as you moaned like the little slut you are. "Good, taking my big cock so good for your lord" you panted and whined while nodding, your hand moving on the belly bulge. As Hoolay used his hand to stimulate more your already sensitive area, you felt a strange sensation, one you never proved even while masturbating. "A-ah, nhhgg, Hoolay! Cumming, I'm cumming!". Squirt gushed all over you and Hoolay. As you squirted you felt something stretching you even more.

"Be good a good slutty human and take my knot".

It was so big! You couldn't help but cream around his cock, your back arching as his seed spurted inside you, making your belly all swollen. The pleasure and pain mixed together so good that for a moment you saw black before coming to your senses. At that time, Hoolay was still inside you, waiting for his knot to be gone (that would take a while, though). You didn't heard anything from him so you just assumed he fell asleep. Well, certainly you would have come more often to visit Hoolay and keep him company.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧*ੈ✩‧₊˚༘⋆࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

[damn-stark]

Chapter 13 Me & My husband

Chapter 13 of Moonlight

A/N- Do you think there’s anything that can make us support the Greens? Hmm?? 🤔

Warning- Swearing, NFSW, talks of pregnancy thoughts of abortion, Aegon, ANGST, fluff, SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- 2x03

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

The streets are quiet, abandoned, and ravaged. The only life pulsating is in taverns scattered about the streets you pass, but as some drink for fun, others most likely drink to forget that the food in this city is diminishing with the blockade still not penetrated by their King.

The sky is polluted by white clouds, dimming the bright lights of the stars and the moon, and the sweet taste of autumn has begun to turn bitter with colder nights, bringing a chilly breeze that nips at your cheeks, and makes your fingers hold on tighter to the warmth Aemond’s hand gives yours.

What could you say about yourself? That your anger has not dulled even if you know now as you walk down the cobble streets that when Aemond is close you never feel alone. Is that hopeless?

Is it hopeless that someone who hurt you is also the one who never makes you feel solace? Even when you’re mad and seething, hoping he will leave you alone, all you seek is his presence because your heart is so tangled with his that he’s the very thing you need to feel complete.

How can you make it stop?

Do you really want to know what a world without him will be like? You should, your heart needs to stop dancing over the fact that he’s trying hard to win you back to his side. You shouldn’t be eager to know where he’s taking you. You shouldn’t know that if he had brought you out into the city weeks before this war started, or even when ravens were all that was being sent, that you would have devoted your heart and soul to him. And who wouldn’t?

He’s trying hard to get in your good graces by stepping out of his own comfort zone to do something he knows you like. He’s trying to prove his love, and his remorse for hurting you, and deep inside where you’re guarding your heart, a hole is starting to puncture through the wall.

You should be rageful! Anger is all you should know! And you do, you still feel it seething within you. You feel spiteful because he’s making the effort to make you look past the unforgettable act he did. Visiting brothels is something you can learn to forgive, after all, you have sinned too, but…killing Lucerys should bring you nothing but hatred.

You shouldn’t steal glances at him when you think he’s too busy paying attention to where you’re going, but you do, you can’t help it, you want to look into his mind to know what he has planned. And…you can’t help yourself from studying his face like one studies a tapestry that you can’t help but get lost in.

You are proud to say that you haven’t spoken a word since you left the castle, that’s the one thing you have kept up, but that begins to teeter because you need to know where he’s taking you! He keeps walking further and further away from the Red Keep!

You need to ask him, you should ask because what if he’s trying to take you somewhere dangerous, or someplace you actually don’t like? Plus this anticipation is something you can’t handle.

Thus you part your lips, and his eyes drift to you as if he was waiting for you to fill the silence, but thankfully you come across a woman with a babe against her chest and an older child on the ground beside her, so you direct their attention at their poor conditions.

Aemond tries to pull you back, but you slip your hand away from his grasp and approach the woman and her children.

The child does immediately scoot back when he sees that you’re approaching them, but the woman looks at you with hope in her eyes as she recognizes your white hair and sees your expensive clothes.

“Here,” you speak softly and pull five gold coins from the pouch in your cloak's pocket to offer them to the woman. “For you and your children.”

The woman glances at Aemond past you, and she seems to falter.

You see right through her and reassure her. “It’s okay, he may look scary, but he’s not. He won’t hurt you. The money is from me and him.”

The woman spares one more frightful glance at Aemond before she sticks her hand out so you can hand her the golden coins.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she says in return and bows her head. “May the gods bless you and the prince.”

“And you,” you redirect sweetly. “Good night.” You offer her a smile and then give the child a wider one before you turn away and return to Aemond to continue down your path in a short silence.

“Where are we going?” You finally let yourself ask.

“I thought you would not ask,” he says and drops his eye on you.

You shrug. “I was not, but you may as well be leading me to my death.”

Aemond rolls his eye. “Why would you say that?”

You avert your gaze and huff. “Well, I do not think the King’s counsel would be so keen on welcoming back. At least not as freely as I am.”

“No they are not keen about your return, they think you come to spy for your mother,” he shares, making you keep your eyes focused on anything else so Aemond won’t see that they hit the target.

“Well,” you sigh and feign annoyance. “If I would have come to do anything for my mother, they should all know I wouldn’t have gone to one knee for his Grace,” you throw that last bit out mockingly. “I mean…” you trail off to not say anything offensive around houses filled with people who wouldn’t hesitate spreading what you said like wildfire. Aemond you don’t worry about, it’s the people who might be listening.

“Yeah I know that,” he mutters, making you both meet each other's gaze and share a small teasing smile over the thought of Aegon being king.

“<He doesn’t even speak Valyrian,” you complain in High Valyrian. “Our child knows more than him, and he’s almost 5 months old.>”

Aemond huffs and you skip forward to fall at his side and muse about Aerion. “<I am being honest, earlier, I told him in Valyrian, if he was happy to be home with you, and he talked back.>”

“<Talked?>” Aemond questions with a happy smile he can’t hide.

You nod excitedly. <Cooed, but it’s the attempt that counts, and the smile he gave when I mentioned you.>”

Aemond hums and smiles at the ground at the mention of Aerion being happy to see him again.

“<He really missed you,” you tell him. “He was sad to be away from home for so long.>”

Aemond lifts his head and looks at you with a soft look. “<I missed him too. And you most of all.>”

He says that on purpose, he knows that sweet words like that make you swoon. It almost works if you’re being honest, but you hold yourself back and look away to retort. “Yeah, you missed me when you went to the Street of Silk.”

Aemond groans and you huff, finding the exact excuse you need to lead into silence. It’s now more tense than before, but it doesn’t leave an attempt for him to sweet talk you, or for you to find a way to talk like you would before.

You don’t talk at all actually, which works to strengthen that wall around your heart, and keeps your anger from sizzling out. You don’t hold hands anymore either which leaves your naked hands feeling quite abandoned while you’re following him through the dangerous city, past taverns and places to eat, past places where people sing and entertain, and overall past anywhere that can be fun.

You start to believe he’s taking you out of the city, but then much to your surprise, you reach the Dragonpit.

“Why are we here?” You ask and he looks at you but doesn’t actually attempt to answer, he points his eye to the side of the Dragonpit before he grabs your hand and pulls you with him toward an entrance you didn't even know about.

“What—”

He shushes you by pressing his finger against your lips and holding your gaze for a short moment that actually starts to filter in flickers of heat in your tension.

“It’s not far,” he whispers before he opens the door and ushers you inside.

Do you hesitate to do as he says?

No, you grow intensely more curious and quite excited.

“If Astraea senses I’m here she will weep,” you whisper as you roll your head over your shoulder to watch him close the door. “It was hard enough bringing her in here.”

Aemond lights a torch before he responds as he walks past, but not before taking your hand first. “We’re not here for the dragons.”

You can’t help your excitement from running your mouth for you. “I would ask how you know about this entrance, but I also know you so, I think I have my answer.”

With a crooked smile, Aemond looks at you and picks on that. “Really?”

You nod and push the tip of your nose up to tease him. “Your nose was always in a book.”

“It made me smarter,” he rebuttals, making you scoff in amusement. It’s not a laugh, but it’s close enough so he takes that as a win.

“It’s not much further,” he answers your burning question that you were about to ask.

You would ask the other questions you have lined up, but you also want to be surprised, so you swallow back your questions and eagerly follow him.

Honestly, it feels like you should close your eyes to not spoil anything, but this tunnel is new to you, so you stay vigilant. And once Aemond brings you to a sudden halt you’re glad you were cautious.

“Watch,” he suggests as he keeps the torch behind him.

“Okay,” you follow up slowly but hold his gaze with a sense of excitement, making him shake his head.

“Not at me,” he says as he doesn’t try to actually look away. “Over there.”

You breathe out some of your nerves before you slide your eyes to the dark room ahead of you. Aemond makes sure you’re paying attention first before he starts to walk away from you, making you get cast in the pitch darkness that comes from the hall behind you.

“Aemond,” you call out with slight fear.

Said man offers you his attention for a second before he walks further inside the dark cast room.

You don’t like the idea of getting consumed by the darkness so you take a step after him, but quickly come to a stop as the room begins to glimmer like a thousand exquisite diamonds as the fire on Aemond’s torch bounces off the walls.

“Wh—” you don’t even get to finish saying because your breath is stolen by all the spots of transparent lights that drown the room, making it seem like you’re actually within a hundred stars. Not just under them, but actually with them, where you can touch them.

“The dragons are above us,” Aemond fills the silence. “And the walls in this room are made of sand, so slowly with the fire from the dragons, glass is being made.”

You look at him completely mesmerized, but at that moment as your eyes take him in across the room, you’re struck with awe as you catch how the shimmering light doesn’t only reflect on the walls and ceiling, but on him too.

Hundreds of lights bask his face and bounce off the sapphire in his eye socket, making him look completely divine, ethereal, beautiful.

Can he see your awe? Can he see it in your soft dilated eyes? In your soft formed smile? Or in your stillness, as you can’t make yourself move with the way you’re completely blown away by the room and him?

“Come,” he invites you further in as he focuses just on you. The glimmering lights don’t manage to steal his attention with you there. You’re all he focuses on, you’re the keeper of his attention, more so when you slowly make yourself to him and the light bounces off the golden shimmer on your gown, making you look like the sun itself. Only brighter. And unlike the sun, you’re ethereal, and instead of burning his eye like the sun does, you make his eye soften and fill with admiration and awe.

“You know I can’t ask how you know about this room,” you finally manage to speak when you meet him in the middle. “Because I know you. You would sneak to the Dragonpit to try and steal our dragons.” You giggle.

He smiles as he turns his head away. “I was desperate,” he rebuttals to your comment.

You hum and lean towards him to add a memory. “Yeah, I caught you singing to a dragon egg once, in…”

“Hopes it would hatch,” Aemond and you finish in sync.

You beam at him and nod slowly. “Yes,” you say thoughtfully and watch him for a lingering moment as you realize that all the tension ceased to exist the moment this room began to shine.

“Wow,” you whisper and slowly spin around to keep admiring the room. “How come you never brought me here before?” You can’t help but ask.

Aemond follows after you as you just wander the room. “I had forgotten about it until recently,” he admits. “And before you left I just did not want to put you in danger by sneaking out here.”

You glance at him with an amused smile before you approach a wall and capture a beam of light in your palm.

“Do you like it?” He asks for validation, making you drop your hand to look at him with a tender look before you nod.

“I love it. You brought the stars down to me,” you muse, and can’t look away from him, you can’t stay from him either. Your heart takes you to him. And without remembering your anger, or the fight you just had not long ago, you slowly press your hands on his chest to be even closer.

Aemond takes his free hand and grabs one of your elbows to be even more connected to each other, finding that you can’t stand being just a hair's breadth away from each other, you need to be closer as if you were one.

You need to be one. Share one beating heart. So you both lean in as you’re driven by a burning desire, but just as the warmth of his lips wash over you, you suddenly come to a halt because of a memory your mind conjured up of him killing Lucerys.

Yet you don’t lead the moment to resentment, you stay close as your anger returns and murmur against his lips. “I would have loved you without a dragon, you know that?”

A short silence follows where all he does is stare at your lips before he speaks up. “I would have not felt complete without one.”

You shake your head and counter his statement. “Not true, I would have completed you. Like I do now.”

Aemond’s lips part and yours follow to do the same but neither of you take the first leap. Him because he’s so taken back by what you said; and you because your anger stops you until you remember why you’re here.

Yet once your lips crash on his, you completely melt, your heart bursts with joy, and your burning desire engulfs your entire body, pushing you to slide your hands around his neck, and leading you to take control of the kiss and move in sync with each other with a sense of longing and hot passion that you can’t deny, that makes his hand find your cheek to bring your closer.

However, just as you want to deepen the kiss Aemond pulls away to seek what will assure him. “Do you love me now?”

You part your lips, but a single breath unfurls over his lips. You want to say yes, but your anger, and maybe a little bit of your hatred stops you and guides you to redirect. “Can I be honest?” You ask, making him blink repeatedly but not respond, so you go on. “My heart swoons for you, my desire burns for you, but a part of me weeps.”

Aemond’s hand slowly falls from your cheek, and his eyes bat frantically as he tries to beat away the tear that comes, but he can’t push it away, it glosses his eye.

“But Aemond,” you quickly interject and tilt your head down to meet his face.

He looks away but you find his gaze right away.

“Aemond. My Aemond,” you call again just as softly, and his eye goes soft at the utter of those last words. “It does not mean I have given up on you,” you lie, or so you tell yourself. “I am yours. I still desire you just as much. I just…need time.”

Aemond looks at you for a lingering moment before you lean in and press a kiss on his lips. He’s still at first as he’s still in disbelief over the answer he didn’t expect. He should have seen it coming, but he didn’t expect it because he was hopeful out of his own selfish desire.

Now that he’s heard you he should give up. He wants all of you or none of you. Yet he also can’t let you go, he doesn't let you go because he is selfish and doesn’t want to see anyone else with you, but also because you are his light at the end of the tunnel. That Red Priestess was right, he’s in the dark without your love, and without you. That’s why he keeps trying to gain your love, because if he gives up who else will love him like you do? Who will complete him like you do?

Only you have given him the love he seeks and he cannot let that go.

Thus he kisses you back as if he wants to devour you, hoping that’s a step in the right direction.

You grab his face and pull him closer, making him stumble you both toward the wall where he drops the torch on the ground to hold you against him.

However, just as you both start to get lost in your needy desire a voice booms. “Who’s there?”

You rip away from each other and watch the corridor with your breaths held in wait, hoping that the voice doesn’t come your way.

Albeit moments later footsteps approach and even if you would not get in trouble if you were caught, you still grab his hand and pull him away with you with no light to guide the way. You remember the path and run out with him.

“Why—”

“Just go!” You exclaim excitedly with your heart pounding in your ears, and never once looking back. You run and run with him still attached to you.

Once you’re out under the natural light of the sky and not threatened with getting caught, you can’t help but burst out laughing. Aemond watches you as he catches his breath, and can’t help but smile as he sees how the joy perks your eyes up. He then chuckles softly as your own laugh is contagious.

“One more,” you pause and catch your breath before you continue. “One more stop.”

Aemond’s laugh dies with yours and his smile fades as he’s confused considering the confession you gave him just now.

“I want to show you a better time than your whore did,” you answer his confusion, causing him to drop his head and shake it.

“I told you it was not like that,” he mutters.

You fiddle with the buckles on his vest and shrug him off. “Well, I still want to show you a good time at your brothel. I want to show you that only I can give you what you like, hm?”

Aemond bats his eye up and a smirk perks the corner of his lips up, giving you the answer without needing to say it.

Albeit before you take his hand to go to your next stop you offer him an out. “Unless you are not comfortable. We can go back home and go to a different room.”

Aemond glances past you and seems to remember that there’s one small person stopping you from going to the comforts of your own chambers. “No, we can go.” He says as he looks at you, letting you take his hand now.

However, Aemond ends up leading the way because you in fact have never been to any brothel. You have passed through the Street of Silk, but that’s the extent of that.

And unlike the streets you took to reach the Dragonpit, the moment you start to approach the Street of Silk, signs of life begin to show with firelight lighting a path, people drunkenly stumbling down streets, and chatter, laughter, singing, music, and lewd noises getting louder and more frequent.

It all mostly works to discourage you, you find yourself preferring going to taverns where you can drink, dance, and sing from occasion to occasion. Yet, you don’t take back your offer, you push forward, and just think about how much this could please Aemond and garner more of his trust so you can move around the castle more freely, and maybe get Astraea out of her chains. You don’t feel safe without her roaming the skies.

“Here,” Aemond finally brings you to a brothel a bit smaller than others you have passed, but still elegant inside and very much busy, or so it seems when you step inside.

If only the smell was just as elegant. It smells like sweat, sex, and a bad attempt at mixing sweet-smelling incense. The women who seem to work here are all beautiful though; in their thin silk and sheer gowns that leave little for the imagination, while some wear nothing at all but their jewelry to catch the wandering eye—they all honestly make you feel overdressed.

“My Prince,” a soothing voice greets your husband as they approach you.

“We just need a room,” Aemond brushes off the older woman with long brown hair that’s partially picked up in an intricate bun, while the rest is resting in a long braid. “Can we get one or not?” He follows up by asking hurryingly.

The woman does not attempt to meet his rush, her sharp eyes find you and take you in, making you raise your head higher to exude confidence and charm when really you're intimidated by her and this place in general.

Not like she can see through you, she does immediately know who you are and sees the very picture of royalty and sophistication; not only in the expensive gown and the luxurious jewelry clung onto you, but in the way you carry yourself, the way your nose is raised in the air, showing that you know that no one in the world can compare to you or touch you in any way.

“Yes,” the woman finally gives Aemond his answer and looks at him for a lingering second, making you follow her line of gaze and see that he’s averting his gaze and that she's the woman he came to see. There’s no need for an explanation, you can see it in her small smug smile, and his lack of focus.

But why her? You can’t help but wonder as you discreetly study her. Is it her experience? Her age? Does he fancy older women? Or is it her beauty? She’s a very refined beauty. She looks poised too. Is that what brought Aemond to her arms?

“Come with me,” the woman finally releases you from your spots and guides you down the room, letting you see what more the fine establishment has to offer, and what more it hides behind closed curtains.

You can’t say she went far, the house is not big, but you do linger behind when a tall slender woman bending like she was made of dough catches your eye.

She’s so impressive! It’s amazing how her legs can go so far back with no sign that it hurts her in any way. You would be envious but you’re just awestruck. You could watch her forever.

Nevertheless, not too long after you departed, Aemond calls out for you, so you steal one last glance at the woman before you find yourself in an empty room occupied by a round bed, and hundreds of candles.

“Thank you,” you tell the woman over your shoulder, proving to not be the snobby princess she thought you were.

“Of course.” She nods and offers you a much kinder smile. “If you need anything ring the bell,” she lets you know, making you smile at her before she leaves Aemond and you in the candle-lit room that smells like vanilla.

“Was it her?” You ask right away as you wander behind the bed to hover your palm over the fire burning away the wax of the candles.

“Does it matter?” Aemond tries to avoid the question, but you look at him and press him.

“Just a little,” you lie and he sees that with the way the fire catches the gloss over the affliction in your eyes as if your life depends on his answer.

“It…” he hesitates and you assume the answer, but you still wait desperately in hopes you’re wrong.

“It was, but I told you, we just shared a bed and she listened to my sorrows.”

You let out a shaky breath and your affliction is resolved to self-torment as you’re filled with self-doubt about yourself for the first time.

Never in your life have you ever been self-conscious, you were always proud of your looks, you took pride in your beauty and never shied away to try and prove otherwise. But now…you can’t help it from taking root within you.

You shouldn’t, you know that. You shouldn’t feel jealous or hurt by his choices. You try so hard to be unaffected by this ordeal, but you can’t fight it off. You’re wounded, and shine a little less, as if you're a shining star in the sky that he dims.

“I told you,” Aemond keeps saying as you have your back turned to him. “She doesn’t compare to you. No one does.”

You stay quiet and keep your back turned as you try to fight off your tears, and really try to fight off the stupid jealousy.

But it really is a bewitching thing.

“We can leave,” Aemond offers, and for a second you’re about to take that chance, but you then remember what brought you here and you know you have to see it through no matter what.

Thus you let out a deep breath and swallow back what torments you. You don’t face him right away, you let him walk up behind you and grab your chin to tilt your cheek to his lips.

“You are mine,” he whispers, making a breath of yours unwantedly draw in. “And I am yours.”

His lips brush against your jaw and burn a line down to the corner of your lips as he keeps tiling your face at his will.

“You are the very breath I need, yet you are the very thing that steals my breath every moment I lay my eye on you,” he whispers against your lips, making you part your lips as if you need his breath. “You are the very definition of beauty and divinity. Every beautiful thing that this damn world has to offer never measures up to your beauty, your grace, the design of your lips, the color of your eyes, and every perimeter that makes you. You plague my every thought, you know that? I would burn the whole world for you. You need only say the word.”

And just like that all your doubt melts away, your reason becomes null, and all your senses turn to a single feeling of needy desire that sets you aflame. You are his, but your heart was not open to him, it was still guarded and he knew that.

“Aemond,” you let out a breathless moan as he presses his needy member against your back and trails his lips along your jaw, making you desperate.

“My love,” he whispers back and presses a kiss on your cheek, causing a pleased groan to escape your lips while you stand there paralyzed unable to think of anything else but what you start to desire.

“I thought,” you pause at the wet feeling of his lips pressing against your neck. “I thought I was here to show you a good time.” You try to laugh, but a trembling breath is all that comes out as he starts to leave a hot and wet trail of kisses back up to your lips as if he's making his mouth try and memorize every inch of that part of your face.

“You are,” he assures you. “You're here. That's all I need to have a good time.”

Your lips tug to a smile and you finally find the strength to peel away far enough to turn and face him.

“No,” you argue and step back as you slip your cloak off before you grab the edge of your sleeves and start to slip the gown off agonizingly slowly, causing his own desire to grow more intensely to the point even his breeches start to feel uncomfortable to have on.

He almost wants to close the space left between you to rip the gown off you, but when he steps forward you flash him a smirk and step back to peel the gown off and let it fall around your feet, leaving yourself only in thin panties that protect your most intimate part.

It would leave little to the imagination, but he knows you inside and out. He knows what you hide and he still salivates.

“Better than your woman out there?” You taunt him in a seductive voice, and he rolls his eye and shakes his head.

“Stop,” he quips. “Don't torment yourself with her. She’s nothing. No one.”

It won’t bring any peace to mind, but you leave it for now and move your hips as you strut to him to press your hands on his chest and then slide them down to unbuckle the buckles that keep his vest closed.

Aemond tries to help you, but you quickly take his hand away and press a kiss on his knuckles before you leave his hand on your breast, causing his breath to catch and his eye to be consumed with even more darkness. Once you've finally done the tedious job of pulling at every buckle you pull his vest and he helps you shrug it off, leaving him in a thin long-sleeved cotton shirt.

“Gods you are more dressed than me,” you laugh. “And here I thought it was your hair that took you long to get dressed.”

He chuckles softly and you share a smile before he pulls his shirt off, feeding your eyes with his beautiful sculpted torso.

“Beautiful,” you whisper before you trail your hands down and unbuckle his belt, causing you both to share a sweet laugh because you have to take more clothes off him.

Before you can attempt to take his breeches off though he steps back to pull his boots off, letting you slip your shoes off too. When there's nothing left for either of you to take care of you get pulled back to him and finally nudge his breeches so he can take them off and leave him naked and vulnerable to you in a room covered with a thick curtain.

Any other time before it would’ve been pretty unbelievable, you both are too possessive over each other to even share a glimpse of each other with anyone else, but right now at this moment, neither of you care.

Then again it’s not like the world outside actually exists; it’s him, you, and your guarded heart refusing to forget what he did, and refusing to give all of yourself back to him—or so that’s what you want to think…

Would a guarded heart really pound at the sight of his member? Would you really desire him as much as you do? Would your body ache for his delicate touch, and for his hard member to complete you if you were guarded?

Perhaps if that’s what you’re pushing yourself to feel. You’re just convincing yourself that you need him in every which way, that he’s all that matters and will matter for the rest of your days. That’s all it is…a hunger for revenge…

That’s why you kiss him with need, without worrying about breathing. He’s all you can need. Him, his thin lips, his tongue fighting yours before you pull away with heavy breaths and push him down to the bed to straddle him.

“<My Aemond,>” you coo in High Valyrian, and feel his tip twitch at those gentle words before he grabs the back of your neck and leans for a kiss, but leaves your mouth waiting as he flips you over to lay you on your back.

“<You are the devil,>” you grumble and he snickers before he presses kisses on your lips, on your chin, up on the tip of your nose, on your scar, and down on your jaw before he brushes the tip of his aquiline nose down your neck.

“Aemond,” you mumble in protest, but he shushes you by pressing his warm lips on your collarbone before he travels down and presses his lips on your breast, leaving his mouth there just for a second, but just enough to make you arch your back and tangle your fingers in his long and soft white silver hair.

You almost don’t want him to move, but he does the best thing and uses his mouth to suck your breast.

“Gods,” you breathe out, making him smile against your flesh before he starts to leave kisses further down your aching body until he comes to a stop on your thigh.

“<Tell me next time how much you need me and I’ll please you,>” he muses as he admires the mess you have between your legs.

“<I need you,>” you whisper desperately and he chuckles before he buries his face in between your legs, taking no time to tease you, he gets right to devouring you.

You try to hold back, but you can’t stop yourself from filling the room with the moans of his name, and small gasps as he drives his tongue deeper. When you begin to roll your hips up to meet the lapping of his tongue, he hooks his arms around your thighs and pins you down, making you increasingly more hot.

At one point you think you can last just to linger in this feeling, but he slides one thumb over to circle your clit and that causes you to grip onto the sheets below you as you’re pushed over the edge right away.

You want to feel ashamed for being consumed by such a pleasure, but you can’t say you remember that shame when that tension snaps and you come undone on his tongue.

Aemond is so consumed by the moment, turned on by the sound of his name coming past your lips and the sounds of pleasure that he alone produced out of you, that he can’t help but come undone moments behind you without you needing to touch him.

Now you would feel pride that you have such an effect on him, but you’re overwhelmed with more soft pleasure as he uses his tongue to clean you up until there’s no trace left of you.

Once he’s done he climbs up to hover over you and steals one look at you, making you smile softly at him, and watch his own lips tug to a mirrored smile before the corner of his lips twitch down and his soft eye is clouded by something dark that's far from lust.

“What is it?” You ask quietly and reach your hand out to grab his cheek.

Aemond’s gaze grows heavy and his eyes droop while a frown wedges itself deeply on his face.

“You must know,” he mutters and slowly grabs your hand. “I am sorry,” his voice comes out soft and apologetic. “About Luke.”

You blink in disbelief and your hand stiffens on his face. He knows you’re going to let go so he keeps your hand pressed against his face.

“I lost my temper,” he mumbles and swallows thickly. “I did not want to kill him. I did not mean it.”

Yes, but his dragon did. A dragon is a part of you when you bond, so Vhagar did not act alone. Her anger may have driven her to act out, but she didn’t do anything he didn’t want to. He knows that. You know that.

Yet you don’t open your mouth to say it. You stay silent and listen with your face growing hard, and your heart no longer dancing out of ecstasy.

“You have to believe me,” he almost pleads for your forgiveness. “I did not mean to kill him. Forgive me.”

Will that bring him back? No. Nothing he says will take back what happened. Lucerys is gone forever because of what he did. You can’t forgive that.

But you don’t tell Aemond that. You bring up your other hand to cup his other cheek and smile at him. “You mean it?” You ask for reassurance.

Aemond leans towards your touch and parts his lips. “I mean it,” he speaks hoarsely.

Despite all the thoughts your mind just conjured, the act of understanding you held falters at the feeling of his neediness feeding off your soft touch, and that blue eye consumed by genuine and sweet sincerity.

Yet you must remain strong…and loyal to your stand of being unforgiving over what he did, you can’t let the wall around your heart crumble. You won’t fall.

Not even as he lays on your side and nuzzles his face against the side of your breast. You do feel a sense of bliss as you make him feel comforted by wrapping your arm around his head and using your fingers to gently caress the side of his head, but that’s it. You don’t listen to your singing heart as he embraces your waist so you won’t go anywhere.

A silence interferes between your nestled-up bodies, and you fight, closing your eyes, finding ease and comfort in his warmth, and in his heart beating against you, assuring you he’s fine. However, you slowly lose your grip and your eyes close, letting a comforting silence linger for a while where only you and him exist.

Neither of you actually fall asleep, you just refuse to let the moment go until it is suddenly interrupted by the sound of the curtain getting ripped open, pulling your eyes open to glance at the intruder, only to grow cold and stiff at the sight of Aegon and his friends, trailing behind him.

You want to alert Aemond, but he turns his attention and finds his brother and his friends too.

And the moment Aegon has the attention of the both of you on him and realizes it’s really Aemond and you on the bed, he bursts out laughing, pulling Aemond to sit up and throw a sheet over your body as you follow him up.

“Aemond, the fierce!” Aegon blurts and points at Aemond as if it’s the funniest thing in the world. Maybe to his drunken mind, it is, but not to his friends, and especially not to you as you see how Aemond recoils into himself as if shielding himself from his brother's torment.

“You know,” Aegon laughs as he stumbles toward the bed, making you scoot closer toward Aemond to shield your body from Aegon’s wandering eyes.

“If it hadn’t been for me, she would’ve been his first. He would’ve saved himself for her,” Aegon continues, only making Aemond stiffen and for his face to fall with hurt that’s obvious to you.

“<Aemond,>” you whisper in High Valyrian and grab his bicep as you feel a growing need to protect him from his brother's continuous bullying that he has yet to grow out of at his big age.

“What a fine, sweet thing,” Aegon teases as he manages to get closer to the point where he climbs on the bed and leans in between Aemond and you. “Did you fuck her like a hound?” He interjects boldly and mocks multiple barks, making your jaw clench, and your quick-grown frustration turn to fury.

“You see,” Aegon directs at his friends who avoid looking at Aemond and never dare look at you.

“< Let's go, my love,>” you insist and lean closer toward him so only he can hear you. “<He's not worth it. Let’s go.>”

“Such is my niece's prowess, that even now my brother will not get tired of her.” Aegon points at you as he looks over to try and catch you exposed, but you hold the sheet tightly against you. “Even after she left.” Aegon laughs.

You sigh deeply and bite back what you want to say to this boy king, instead, you just focus on Aemond.

“<Come on.>” You keep urging him and pull his arm toward you, but it falls limp, making your heartache. You can’t stand seeing him so anguished, you never could stand him being belittled and feeling small. Just like you never found any of Aegon’s pranks funny, Aemond was always your soft spot, and you never let one of Aegon's pranks or mean snide go unpunished.

“Hard luck for your squire though,” Aegon tells his group of friends. “As you can see,” he laughs. “The room is very much occupied.”

He keeps laughing like a madman, finally triggering Aemond’s gaze to go hard at the same time his demeanor shifts from wounded to menacing before he gets up, letting your hand fall off his arm, and making you watch him as he twists around slowly with no care of being seen.

“Your squire is welcome to the room,” Aemond finally breaks his silence and steps off the bed, but not before calling out your name and following with a demand. “Let’s go.”

Aegon chuckles and wiggles his fingers to try and touch your leg, but you quickly pull your leg away and slide off the bed, making sure to keep the sheet on while you grab yours and Aemond’s stuff from the floor, before you follow after him in a tense silence that you don’t break while you change. That tension intensifies and changes the atmosphere you once carried as you walk back to the Red Keep. It stays when you get home and when you get ready for bed, killing any attempt to rekindle the passion you were lost in.

You have a dire need to talk to him, but at every attempt, he meets you with a cold shoulder. He stays mute as if Aegon had cut out his tongue when he left that brothel.

And perhaps you should leave it be, pass it off as cruel mocking, after all, what can you do now that Aegon is King?

There’s no way to make him pay back for what he said without facing some kind of consequence, and right now you need to avoid getting in trouble.

Yet how can you leave the topic untouched? You look at Aemond and your heart aches at the mere sight of the frown on his lips, and at the dullness that takes over his eye as he can’t help but feel ashamed, angry, and most of all hurt after being ridiculed by his brother.

“Aemond?” You call out in the silence of the room to gain his attention that’s turned away from you, but he doesn’t respond right away, even if you know he’s far from being asleep.

“Can we talk about it?” You probe on the matter.

“No,” he deadpans.

You sigh and take advantage that Aerion is not here to persist harder even if you have the chance to leave it be. After all, doesn't he deserve it? This feeling that plagues him so? It’s a piece of justice, isn’t it?

No…you can’t leave it be. And it’s not out of ill intent either. You push because you want to comfort his tormented soul. “At least look at me.”

Aemond’s back rises and falls before he turns around with his long hair falling over his face, making you instinctively brush his hair back behind his ear before you slide your hand down and gently stroke his cheek, noticing that he’s not even looking at you.

“I do not need your pity,” he argues, trying to sound hardened and serious, but you hear the falter in his voice that gives him away and actually seeks your comfort.

“It’s not pity,” you contradict him with the truth, causing him to scoff as he keeps his eye averted, but also makes no effort to take your hand off his cheek.

“It is. You are only doing this because of what happened,” Aemond remarks. “You can not stand me.”

You swallow back thickly and lean your face closer so he can hear your whispers of the truth. “If that was true would I be here? Grabbing your face the way I am? Would I be here on this same bed?”

“I made you be here,” he argues and slowly brings his eyes up to meet your gaze without that fury that weighed him down as all he thought about was the shame Aegon brought him publicly. He looks at you now with that hurt he can’t surpass, it clings onto him and makes his eye glossy and soft. He does try to rip away the hurt to show you fury, but he looks at you now, right across from him, and he can’t put up that facade.

That mask of invincibility and terror he carries is nonexistent with you at this very moment because you are his peace. The one who loves him with their whole heart, with no questions asked, no fear or hesitation despite the new man he became after being mutilated. Who can say that? Who can prove that the way you do every time you smile at him tenderly in public, look at him with love, and touch his face ever so softly despite the scar and missing eye that ruined his face? No one but you.

No one but you can ever read him without a need for words, just an exchange of looks without mistranslating a single look of snide that he throws at someone or something foolish, and without mistranslating something he finds humorous but can’t express in the masses.

Maybe he should detach himself from you, and learn to live without all that you offer him. You are the enemy's daughter after all, he knows the love you harbor for them is not dead. Yet he’s selfish, he can’t let go. He realizes that. Just like he realizes that he can’t be mad at you now.

He realizes you can leave again, pledge your fealty to your mother once again and he would be offended but that would not make him love you any less. There are some things he won’t forgive, he knows that, but besides those exceptions, you can hurt him and he will never let you go because you are the one who loves him the way he wants to be loved.

You prove that by coming back. Even if you had all the freedom with your mother you still came back to him. That’s proof.

Just like there’s proof now by the way you look at him with a tender look rather than one full of resentment.

“I’m here because I want to be here,” you dismiss his accusation that was right at first, but now is far from the truth. “Because I care for you, Aemond. I care,” you insist, but not to convince yourself, to convince him. “I…” you hesitate and struggle to say the next words that are coming to your mouth, but not because you don’t mean them and it pains you to say them to someone who betrayed you. You hesitate because you are struck with realization at that moment too.

As you lose yourself in his eye and the deep blue sapphire in his eye socket, you see the truth looking right back at you. You do love him despite what he did, despite his darkness, his selfishness, and his faults. You tried to hate him, tried putting up a wall, but that was merely an attempt, there was never a wall around your heart. You only told yourself that in hopes that would distance yourself from him, but you realize here and now that you love him.

He may be destruction incarnate, a demon in disguise, but you love him. Despite his betrayal, despite him visiting a brothel. You wholeheartedly, undoubtedly love him.

It’s a wild realization if it was one at all, but you cannot pretend otherwise.

Who will love you selfishly the way he does? He would burn the world for you, and you know that is a hard truth, but you love that promise. You hate that you love it, you don’t want to love him, but you cannot help it, you cannot push it away, you are devoted to him just as much as he’s devoted to you.

No one will understand your darkness that you try to hide the way he does. No one will love your hunger for power the way he does, and he would never find those traits shameful the way you find them shameful about yourself. He cherishes you, loves you despite it all, and you love him despite it all.

You love each other desperately and madly. After all, you are one flesh, one heart, and one soul, now and forever.

“I love you,” you spit out and grab his cheek firmly. “I love you that’s why I’m here,” you express with a wobbly smile. “That’s why I want to talk about what troubles you because I love you and I cannot stand seeing you hurt.” You nod in reassurance and his breath catches before he leans his face against your touch and kisses the heel of your hand.

“I love you too,” he doesn’t hesitate to redirect without losing sight of your gaze. “I always have. I always will.”

You smile wider and scoot closer toward him to nuzzle your face against his chest, whilst you also snake your arm around him and rub circles on his back with your thumb, making him slink his arm around your neck to caress the back of your head.

“Your place is with me,” he assures you of that. “You belong here. I will protect you here.”

You smile against his flesh and speak against him, causing goosebumps to grow along his skin. “And I will protect you.”

Aemond huffs in protest but you know he loves that shit.

“I mean it,” you continue sweetly. “There’s not much I can do right now, but I can still look out for you. I will. We’re what matters most in this world, Aemond. Us and our son. No matter the cost.” You voice with no hint of that sweet honey, you mean it fiercely and prove your ferocity by pulling back to face him with flickers of that darkness in your eyes.

“Do you understand?” You press to assure him but also seek reassurance for yourself.

Aemond lowers his head to meet your gaze with that same fire in his eye. No questions asked, and no hesitation to consider. “I know. No matter the cost. With fire and blood.”

The corner of your lips pull to a smirk and you seal that fierce dedication with a kiss on his lips. When you pull back you see thoughts forming behind his eye that deepen that smirk before he presses a kiss on your forehead.

You smile in return and as he faces you you return to what you initially needed his attention for. “You are more fierce than he is. You know that.”

Aemond’s eye flickers down, and you slide your hand over to grab the back of his neck. “He just knows that he has more power over you,” you make sure he hears what you have been thinking of since Aegon interrupted your moment together.

“He knows you won’t react because he’s king, but that doesn’t mean a thing. You are still you,” you continue without falter and regain his unwavering attention. “You are stronger. More powerful. Loyal, kind, and more fierce in a way he will never be. You are Vhagar’s rider. You are what he will never be.”

Aemond’s lips part, and his eye widens while also growing dark with desire. An intense ferocity captures him in a stupor, but he quickly snaps out of it to grab your face and kiss you fiercely.

You take a second to grasp this burst of passion, but you snap out of your surprise quickly and kiss him back with the same energy while also letting him take complete control of the heated moment that turns into a passionate night with little sleep.

——

*THE NEXT MORNING*

“What will you do today?” You ask Aemond as you gently massage his temple with your thumbs while he lays his head on your lap.

“With Cole gone a little less, but I have made it my job to attend more council meetings, to be present while war plans are made. But this morning I will go patrol on top of Vhagar, so I will go to that soon after breaking fast, and perhaps get some training in after.”

You scoff softly. “Oh because you need it?” You tease and look over at Aerion sitting on Aemond’s torso. “Right little dragon? Your papa does not need to train.”

Aerion glances at you before looking back at Aemond and reaching for the toy Aemond holds up for him.

“Refining my skill is necessary,” Aemond finally interjects. “Why would I hold myself back from achieving a new skill in a time like now?”

You hum and tilt your head as you gently slide your thumbs down to massage his cheekbones. “Maybe I could be your sparring partner today? Or you could teach me a skill or two?” You smirk, and his eye snaps over to you as his lips stay still before they tilt towards a small smirk.

“Why would I refrain you from getting better, my love? Here I thought you wanted to be more like Queen Rhaenys?”

You snicker and roll your head away. “She was an excellent dragon rider, but I do not wish to limit myself to one thing especially now during war. I may not always have my dragon to protect me, things happen unexpectedly. I cannot always count on you, you’re busy. I do not want to be helpless when the time comes.”

He hums and comments. “You are not. You have skill.”

“Not excellent skill,” you press and stop your thumbs to hold his gaze. “I want to be great.”

Aemond puts the toy down to reach over and cradle your cheek. “And great you are, but…if you wish me to teach you I will help, maybe then you will not need that sworn protector:”

You snicker and lean down to speak against his lips in Valyrian. “<Don't be jealous my love.>”

“<I chose one for you for a reason, and you went on to choose a bastard,>” he rebuttals and his grip turns firm.

“<You chose an old man,” you remark. “Who would need to be changed the way I change Aerion, no thank you.>”

“A skilled knight.”

“An old man.”

Aemond groans and you lean back, causing Aemond’s hand to fall. “Meet Ser Jason, and watch him fight,” you defend your sworn protector. “He’s very skilled and a quick thinker. He used his cloak to blind his opponent, and! He killed a Dothraki screamer. How great is that?! He also fought at the Step Stones with Daemon.”

Aemond frowns and turns his focus to Aerion grabbing his little foot.

“I trust him,” you plead for the knight's case. “Do you not trust me?”

Aemond doesn’t look at you but he responds. “I will slay him if he does not do his job.”

There’s no need for a clear answer, that was his agreement.

“What will you do today?” He then changes the subject.

You pout and shrug. “Nothing and then more of nothing. I am not allowed to do anything.” You grumble, making him smile.

“Don't laugh,” you scold him and smack his shoulder. “You know I detest being bored, Aemond.”

“What would you do in Dragonstone?” He asks.

You sigh and shrug. “A bit more, I would attend council meetings, but my mother did not let us do anything either.”

He hums and reaches his hand over to caress your knee before he sits up and replaces his head with Aerion instead.

“I have something for you,” he shares, piquing your curiosity.

“A gift?” You squeal as he walks over to a shelf to grab a box before he returns to the bed and places the box down by your lap.

“I hope you like it,” he says and sits on the edge of the bed. “It took me a while to find it.”

You beam at him and secure your arm around Aerion before you reach over and pull the lid off, finding a red-leathered heart-shaped book that strikes you with awe the very moment you lay your eyes on it.

You almost do not want to touch it, it looks too precious to touch, but you can’t contain your excitement, you take the book from the box and realize it’s a songbook from Old Valyria.

“<Songs and Ballads of Valyria.> You read the gold title out loud in your mother tongue. “<Amazing,>” you muse as you admire the cover and the shape of the book. “<It must have been a pain to find it.>”

You proceed to open the book and flip through the pages to take a glimpse at all the different songs it contains.

“You like singing in High Valyrian,” Aemond brings up. “I thought it would be appropriate for you to have songs from where we come from.”

Your heart swoons and when you look over at him your eyes water. “Thank you, my love,” you whisper and lean over to him to press a lingering kiss on his lips.

Guilt begins to wedge itself within you, threatening to spoil the moment, but you refuse to be consumed by anything but appreciation and bliss at this very moment.

If your mind wants to torment you then it can do it later when you’re not with Aemond. Not now.

Even then you’ll bury it if you must.

“Maybe I’ll sing you something later if you come find me,” you suggest seductively before you lean in and bite his bottom lip.

Aemond groans softly in response, making you snicker before you sit up and climb off the bed to try and get the morning started before you’re forced.

“I'll be lonely all day, under the watchful of my sworn protector,” you feign a sigh and you hear Aemond get on his feet.

When you peer back he looks bothered so you offer him a sweet grin before you waltz over to put Aerion down on the ground protected by blankets and multiple fluffy pillows so you can go on and start your day before the morning slips from your fingers.

Albeit you didn’t realize how much you enjoyed your moment of peace. The war did not exist in the confinement of your chambers as you ate breakfast. It felt like the days before the tensions of war; calm, blissful, filled with long talks as you both bring up whatever comes to mind, and filled with wonder as you watch your son interact with the world.

As expected though the illusion breaks when the doors to your quarters open and Aemond parts in his way, and you go in your way; finding yourself in the Godswood thinking of one thing.

How could you be so horrible?

Kissing Cregan was one thing, but laying with him and mayhaps having his babe?

Your brothers suffered because of their parentage, do you want the same bestowed upon your children? Or do you want something more horrible cast upon them if they happen to be his and come out looking like him?

Aemond would never forgive that betrayal, he would not want that to besmirch his name. He would kill you too. Do you want that?

Do you want him to hate you?

If the babes are Cregan’s anyway, they can be Aemond’s. You’re choosing to blindly believe that the babes Helaena said you’d have, are Aemond’s. You can’t believe otherwise for your sanity…unless…

You take something stronger than moontea?

But what fault do the babes have for your sins? And if they are Aemond’s and you rob them of their lives?

You can’t do that, no matter how much that would spare you of any troubles.

Gods!

You fall on your knees and look up at the crying face on the Weirwood tree, unknowingly meeting the intent gaze of Cregan Stark who is leagues away, but looking upon the same crying face thinking of you as he reads the letter you sent with haste before you left—more like before you run from Dragonstone.

He would understand. Only because you aren’t actually married to him, but he would understand and he wouldn’t shame you. He would help in some way…

If you could see him, or continue writing to him, or if he was here. But he’s not here, no one can help you, you have to suffer through this alone because it’s a mistake you made. You must pay its price and hope, pray even that the babes are fully Aemond’s.

And after you pray and beg under your breath with thick tears rolling down your cheeks, you have to pick yourself up and play the part; the dutiful wife as Daemon said.

Only you aren’t really dutiful, nor is it all pretend, you are here aren’t you? In his protective care, marking his lips and face with kisses; knowing only your lips have touched him. You're looking deep into his soul through his eye. You're wrapped in his arms that you find so secure and holy in the madness of war, so what’s a little selfish take in this great suffering?

Daemon pushed you into Aemond’s arms, you didn’t plan to come back, but he pushed you here, so why can’t you let Aemond feed your needy heart his love? And why can’t you feed his starving heart more of your love while you still stay faithful to your mother?

There’s no sin in loving.

Right?

“Right,” you sigh deeply and push yourself to your feet to sit against the white trunk instead and finally take a deep dive into the book Aemond gave you, finding yourself drawn to one specific ballad that you start to mutter before you hum along quietly to try and find a tempo.

When it seems that you have the right beat you start quietly singing to the brisk air, unbeknownst to you having your song travel into the ears of your sworn protector, and capturing his interest to the point he has to peer back at you over his shoulder to stare. He tries to focus on his task at hand, but no matter how hard he tries, his attention draws back to you, as if your voice had bewitched him.

He can't understand what it is you’re singing about, nor does he want to ask because it sounds so sacred. Albeit you manage to catch his curious attention and interject to fill the curiosity mingling in his deep blue eyes.

“It's about the God of the Sea loving both the Goddess of the Sun and Sky and the Goddess of the Moon and Stars.”

Ser Jason snaps his attention ahead with reddening cheeks, and you continue to feed his curiosity.

“To summarize the ballad, the God couldn’t pick between the two, until fate picked for him by killing the Goddess of the Moon and Stars. However,” you sigh and look back at your pages to glance at the ballad. “…Upon seeing her death, carrying her in his arms, he realizes when it’s too late that he always loved the Goddess of the Moon and Stars, for she was his soulmate. Without the moon and the stars who would shine his dark waters, who would bring days to an end, who would bring tides, and the very gravity that holds him down to earth?”

Ser Jason hums before his armor clatters against each other as he turns to face you.

“What a selfish god,” he shamelessly gives his opinion, bringing a smile to your lips that makes a hotter heat unfurl under his cheeks.

“Aren't they all?” You say back and drift your gaze to him. “No matter how gracious one god is, they are all selfish in some way.”

Ser Jason hums and can’t help himself from leaving his post and approaching you.

“You want to know why?” He asks and you probe with hum as you put your book down against your lap.

“Because they don’t live amongst us…”mortals”…no matter how much they wish to relate to us or say they do, they will never be us.” He says and shakes his head. “They never suffer the same because they are the ones that bring that suffering.”

You blink slowly in awe and can’t help your lips from lifting to a softer smile. “Is that so?” You muse.

Ser Jason holds your gaze and blinks repeatedly as if in disbelief of what he’s seeing whilst he parts his lips, but says nothing but a long ‘uh’ as he watches you wide-eyed.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you press him. “Ser?”

Ser Jason clears his throat and nods harshly before he giggles nervously and finally gives his response. “It is…It’s, uh, the harsh reality that you learn in the suffering.”

You hum and hold the book against your chest to lean forward and question him. “Are you from King’s Landing, Ser?”

The knight nods. “Born just in the Street of Silk, before I was raised in Flea bottom until I got good enough with a sword and went to fight for a living.”

“Couldn’t stand the suffering?” You ask and he scoffs softly as he nods

“Exactly,” he grins. “I decided to test fate and suffer in violence instead.”

You huff softly in response and narrow your gaze to continue questioning him so you can know more about him, but not before you check the entrance to make sure Aemond isn’t coming and overreacts.

“Tell me Ser, what led you to fight a Dothraki Screamer?”

The man smiles at the ground, making those deep-set dimples of his make an appearance on his face. “Adventure,” he says. “Access to money…I also had nothing waiting for me here, so after the Step Stones I set sail to different ports, met different people, and saw all kinds of wonders.”

Your eyes fill with wonder as you hear all that you wished to do and be once upon a time.

“Then…why did you come back?” You can’t help but ask and glance at the ground. “There’s nothing too wonderful about this place,” you say as if it was muscle memory to say those words you thought long forgotten. “Especially now with war so rampant.”

You look back at the knight, and he shrugs whilst he meets your gaze with a look of sincerity. “It’s home. No matter the bad memories, or the suffering. Home called me back.”

Your gaze falters and you lose yourself deep in thought about those marvelous wonders you will never see, only hear about from mouths like his.

“Besides, I do have my father…” he trails off and clears his throat as he focuses on something else. You follow his line of gaze and see Alicent walking in the Godswood.

“Your Grace,” Ser Jason greets and bows his head as he closes and opens his hand.

Alicent stares at him for a long second, before she stops in her path and brings up a question. “I cannot say I have seen you before, what is your name?”

Ser Jason swallows back nervously and shakes his head. “My name. I am new,” he stammers. “I am new working within the castle. My name is Ser Jason Waters.”

“My sworn protector,” you clarify for him.

Alicent glances at you and then looks back at the Knight with a gentle smile. “I see,” she says.

Ser Jason lingers there awkwardly for a moment and Alicent keeps staring at him waiting for him to move away, but he doesn’t seem to understand so you interject. “Go back to where you were Ser, it’s quite alright.”

Ser Jason nods rapidly before he walks away, making Alicent wait until where he's supposed to be before she continues her path toward you.

“Princess, I thought I would find you here,” she directs at you with a sweet smile you find quite grotesque and all too fake.

“Here I am,” you mutter and stand to your feet. “Enjoying the stillness of the Godswood.”

She hums and holds her hands in front of her as she brings herself to a stop close to you. “I understand. The Red Keep has gotten quite rowdy with everyone moving about.”

You offer her a half smile in response before you glance around as if that will give you the answer as to why she came to you.

“I hope everything is going well with Aemond, I know men sometimes find it difficult to understand our troubles,” she says in an attempt to what? Be nice? Be nosy?

“Well,” you roll out and sigh. “Luckily, Aemond and I have been childhood friends. Growing up together helped us understand each other, so yes there has been difficulty, but we understand each other's troubles quite well.”

She didn’t get the answer she sought but she doesn’t press for a clarification, she just offers you a tight-lipped smile and mutters. “That makes me glad.”

You nod stiffly and purse your lips together before you just decide to cut this formality off and get to what she needs. “Do you need something from me, your Grace, or am I just being blessed with your company?”

She hums with a smile and steps closer, making sure to look over her shoulder once before she comes to a stop very close to you, causing your gaze to narrow as your eyebrows try to meet together.

“With us living together for so long, I like to say I know you like I know my children.”

That’s funny.

“I know that sitting and doing nothing makes you restless,” you let her get to the point because you’re now more curious than ever. “Thus I came to you to offer my help. Or more so my partnership.”

Your eyebrows soothe for a second but soon rise with your amused disbelief.

“We are surrounded by men,” she goes on with no clue as to what’s obviously playing on your face. “Who often think too rash and don’t take rationality under consideration. That’s where we come in, but they don’t tend to listen to the kinder voices.”

“No,” you input as you fiddle with the long smooth pearl snood flowing down with the length of your hair.

“But we must persist, be their rationality. But we can’t do that alone, as a woman it’s important we stick together. Be a force to get in their minds. That’s why I thought we could work together and get them to listen to what we plan out.”

Your gaze flickers down as you nod slowly in comprehension, letting her believe you actually fall for her crap and take it to heart before you start to laugh and face her with an all too menacing smile.

“No,” you snap as your laugh dies and brings your lips down to a harsh frown as your eyes harden. “You do not know me, your Grace. You have no idea who I am, which is telling, really,” you feign a laugh and step closer to tilt your head and narrow your fierce glare. “Why should I ever consider working with you?”

She blinks repeatedly as she’s caught off guard, and steps back.

“I may be at odds with my mother,” you lie. “But I do not forget your treatment, the snide, the torment. The way you made her walk up flights of stairs mere minutes after labor.”

Alicent’s eyebrows furrow, but then quickly knot together as her brown eyes gleam with quick tears, and a long frown grows on her face.

“And then there was me, you sent me away across the country to get back at my mother for something I did not do. I was trying to stop them and you sent me away when I easily could have been your ward, but no. You are no ally, no friend. You are mean and I will never work with you.” You give her your response and look her up and down, finding that frown pretty pathetic.

“But I will tell you this,” you add one more thing in a whisper. “As a suggestion. Leave, Your Grace. There’s no husband for you to tend to anymore. You will find peace in the religion you grip onto as if it’s your salivation. Woman to woman.” You hum and curtsy before you walk past her.

“And you,” she tries to get the last word in. “What will you do? There’s nothing for you to do here but tend to your husband. They will never hear your counsel. He will never hear it.”

You stop and draw out a deep breath. “I have a dragon, I have skill with a sword, not perfect but it is a skill, and most of all I have his trust,” you finally give her the answer she was seeking before. “He does trust me, but you know that.”

You look at her over your shoulder and offer her a sweet smile before you turn your head away and roll your eyes.

Perhaps if she had been nice she would have gained you as an ally, but you do not forget a slight. Especially when it comes to her hurting your mother.

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“It’s nice being away from the stench of the city,” you say fondly as you hurry down to a small patio hidden below the castle where the waves crash on the rocks below and bring a nice refreshing mist where the salt filters in your nose, and the noise of the city and the castle drowns out.

“With those Rat Catchers still on the walls the air reeks even from my balcony,” you complain to Ser Jason who listens maybe because he is paid to, but he listens nonetheless.

“It's a poor sight,” the knight says from behind you. “Some of those men were innocent…”

You peek over at him and stay quiet for a moment before you rebuttal. “So was the boy.”

Ser Jason meets your gaze and he keeps his eyes on you for a while as if challenging you, so you fight right back with more fire, making him look down before he moves his eyes ahead to look out for trouble.

“Could I ask,” you shift the subject to a less tense topic. “How did Daemon come to recruit you?”

“Well, the squadron I was in—”

“No,” you cut him off. “I am referring to this job right now. Did he just recognize you and throw you a sack of coins?”

Ser Jason glances at you and you make a quick stop to let him catch up to you before you continue ahead slowly.

“Well, he did give me gold,” he says under his breath, so it's not possible for someone can hear him in the solitude of this path. “But we did not just bump into each other…he actually came looking for me,” he pauses, and his gaze flickers down. “I was his squire at the Stepstones, but he soon released me and gave me a higher rank to go with my skill. I suppose he remembered me and the stories I would tell him of where I was from.”

You hum and scoff in surprise. “That’s unlike him.”

Ser Jason nods and laughs nervously before he throws his head up and looks at you. “He did threaten me after finding me so he stayed himself.”

You huff in amusement and don’t want to ask but you can’t help yourself. “What did he say?”

He clears his throat. “If anything happens to the princess and that babe I will personally come burn you alive after I have gutted you alive,” he says as he mocks Daemon’s voice, making you giggle.

“Nice,” you praise him, causing him to realize what he just did and grow flustered.

“I did not mean to, I mean, I am sorry. I should not have done that,” he stammers and you shake your head.

“Do not worry about it Ser, I found it amusing and accurate.”

Besides it does take you by surprise that Daemon would…care so much as to threaten him with such violence for Aerion and you.

“Many of my protectors before have been older and quite stiff, so it is refreshing to have someone to talk to,” you tell him sincerely. “Especially in a time like now. Do not worry alright?”

Ser Jason's lips part and a red tint takes over his cheeks as his eyes soften. Yet you don’t pay attention to the way his eyes lock on you or the way his breath stills for a second, you manage to finally catch sight of your small lookout and find a Septon and a Septa already there.

What a damn bummer! You wanted to be alone!

Whatever you’ll have to stick to one side then.

“I like to escape here,” you tell Ser Jason as you get ahead eagerly. “It’s peaceful, and when I was a girl since I was not allowed to train with the boys I would come and practice with a sword and strawman everything I watched them do. My mother would get me in trouble though, I tended to go down to the rocks to feel the water, so she said that the waves were too big and wild here and one could take me. But I never listened.”

“Did you ever get close?” The knight asks and you look back at him with a grin.

“Once, just do not tell my mother.”

He laughs under his breath and you make it to the patio, trying to avoid any eye contact from the Septon and Septa, so they would not come speak to you, but you do sneak a glance at the Septon posted behind the Septa, and find yourself a bit drawn by the man as you feel like you recognize his old face.

Before you can take a good look he turns his face away, but it doesn't take away from the fact that his face is really oddly familiar, you just need one good look.

Yet you don’t try because that would mean having to walk back and that would be awkward, so you go sit on the empty bench and just admire the waves the ocean throws at the rocks. There’s no attempt to talk to Ser Jason, you do not want to fill your silence at this moment. All you want to do is sit in silence and not be tormented by memories or running thoughts that spread like a web.

However, your moment of peace comes to an abrupt end when the Septa comes to sit next to you.

She could have stayed where she was but she moved out of her way to come sit next to you. Isn’t that fucking great!

You had forgotten how much you hate Septa’s.

You do bite your tongue though and just keep watching ahead hoping she doesn’t see how you’re starting to fume.

Just keep looking ahead.

Just keep—

Suddenly your mind goes quiet as the Septa drops her hand on yours resting on your lap.

“Uh,” you part your lips and slowly churn your head to the side with a tight-lipped smile to address this bold Septa, but when you lay your eyes on her you immediately recognize your mother…

It must be some weird dream…

It’s not her!

You snap your eyes ahead and stare in disbelief for a second before you take a second look and see that it in fact is your mother, and the Septon is no Septon, it’s Ser Steffon Darklyn! You knew you recognized him!

But how?! Why?!

“Mother?” You gasp in disbelief whilst your face contorts with shock.

She puts her finger against her lips to shush you out of fear someone would hear you from the distant castle, or the knight behind you would say something.

“We…can trust Ser Jason, Daemon paid him to protect me,” you throw out to get that out of the way before you probe her. “What are you doing here? Why? You need to leave. Now!” You get up and take her hand to attempt and get her away, but as she stands up she yanks you back with her.

“Not without you,” she snaps. “I came this way for you. We are returning to Dragonstone.”

You shake your head and she pulls you with her, but you slip your hand away from her grasp and stand your ground, causing her to turn and face you with her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“No, I am not returning home,” you proclaim firmly and raise your chin. “I can help you here. I am here to help you, it’s the only way I can help you.”

Your mother shakes her head and closes the distance to grab your arms and argue. “No, there are other ways, perhaps I have been protective, but I do it for your own good. You are young, inexperienced, and so is your dragon.”

You take in what she says but that still doesn’t win you over. “I understand—”

“There are other things you can help me with,” she cuts you off to try and persuade you. “This is not one of them. If they find out you are sending information they will kill you. We must return home at once, get Aerion, and sneak out.”

“No,” you exclaim and step back. “I am careful, and Aemond trusts me. I use the tunnels behind the walls to listen to council meetings, I will get my dragon out from the Dragonpit soon so she can fly over and send you the letters, you just have to trust me, Mother.”

Said woman goes quiet and her eyes droop with anguish so you approach her and grab her hands to assure her. “It is a risk, but it is one I am willing to take to get you on that throne.”

Her breath catches and she reaches over to cup your cheek and whisper. “And it will not be worth it if I lose you and your brothers. Please listen to me, my sweet. Come home.”

“You will not lose us,” you don’t give in. “You will have us. We will stand by your side when you become Queen. Just trust that I am doing the right thing. I ask you only this, trust me. Please.”

Your mother pulls her head back and stares at you hard for a long and tense moment before she drops her head and lets a tear fall to the ground. “Fine…I will trust you.”

You smile softly. “Thank you, mother.”

“But;” she sniffles and looks back at you. “At any sign of trouble, you come home.”

You don’t hesitate to assure her with a nod before you slip away from her to sit back down on the bench. When she sits next to you you tell her what you have heard, but haven’t been able to send. “Ser Criston, Ser Gwayne Hightower, and a few other knights have left to attack the houses in the Crownlands who support you. He will turn them against you to try and take Harrenhal.”

Your mother's eyes flutter as she looks to the horizon to get lost in thought.

“I heard reports of Ser Criston and other knights marching somewhere, but we had not figured out where,” she says to the crashing waves.

“That’s all the worthwhile things I have heard, but I will get more information soon.” You try to assure her, gaining her attention and a small smile.

“Thank you, just be careful when you try and listen, okay?”

You nod and let a silence befall you where you both feel the urgency to leave so she does not get caught, but in that silence, you also feel the need to speak of your troubles now that she’s here. You do not want to hold them anymore than you have to or you will combust. Besides, you are in desperate need of her counsel to know what to do.

“<Mother,>” you croak in High Valyrian and see her eyes catch the tears that quickly fill your eyes. “<I have to tell you something,” you pause and she immediately grows overly concerned. “I’m…I’m with child.>”

You have not had it confirmed yet, Helaena did tell you and you want to pass her off as a bit mad since there was no way she could know, but you know it in your gut that she is right. There’s also evidence that points to it that you have tried to ignore, but you cannot ignore the truth forever. No matter how much it scares you.

“<That's great…>” Your mother trails off as she doesn’t see your joy and instead sees anguish.

“<When I was a ward in Winterfell I was lonely…some people would not talk to me because I was me, but also because they were being mean, but…Lord Stark did, he became my friend,” you give her context. “He was my best friend and then,” you pause and hold in your sob. “We ventured into a more romantic relationship…but I stopped it when I came back. I was devoted to my husband, I love him, but when I went back and found out what he did to Lucerys…I was—>” You cut yourself off and drop your head on your hand. Your mother reaches for your hand but you pull away and finish.

“<I was hurt. I felt betrayed, and Cregan comforted me…one thing led to another, and…>” you don’t finish the rest but she knows what you mean and stays quiet and still now. You don’t want to know what she might be feeling so you keep your gaze averted.

“<But I also lay with Aemond before I left for Dragonstone and now I do not know who might be the father. I’m scared…I’m horrible.>” You cry and your mother can’t stand your cries so she finally takes your hands and nudges your hands towards her so you can look at her.

“<The father is Aemond,” she says seriously not because she knows, but because that’s what you need to believe, what you need to say if it’s not true. “Do you hear me? There might be a high chance it is. I am betting it is. It was just one night with Lord Stark. Do not worry I doubt anything took root, okay? When was the last time you bled?>”

You shrug. “<It's been complicated since Aerion, I do not bleed as heavily anymore, so I get confused, but I bled for two days and that ended the day after you returned to King’s Landing. But, I was feeling more tired than usual and just odd the entire week I was at Winterfell, just before Lord Stark.>”

“<See, it is Aemond’s. That’s proof,” she tries and convince you of the higher outcome. “Do not worry. It’s not good for you, and there is still a lot of time before that babe comes.>”

“<Twins,>” you share what Helaena told you, making your mother smile and cup your cheek to stroke it.

“<Twins,>” she muses. “<I'm happy.>”

You want to share her joy but you can’t look past your self-hatred. “<I'm still horrible. I shouldn’t have done it. But I did and I’m horrible for it. And I know what Aemond did, I know what he has done, but Mama, I still cannot bear it. I betrayed him. I-I—>” You break into a sob and she moves her head with yours as you drop it.

“<Look at me,>” she commands softly as she grabs your face and tilts your head up regardless. “<It is true you could have taken other pursuits, but it happened already. And it does not make you horrible.>”

You shake your head and mumble. “<You only say that because you’re my mother.>”

She scoffs softly and nods. “<Maybe, but it does not matter because I know you. You are not horrible, and doing that does not make you horrible, we are only human, my sweet. You were hurt, betrayed, and he was everything you needed. In a moment like that it’s easy to fall into the wrong thing to avoid being alone. You admit you did wrong, that’s all that matters.>”

Your ache eases off your heart and even though nothing can take away the sin, you still feel comforted by her sweet words. It’s just what you needed to stop letting that torment you as much as it has, she was what you needed; your mother's comfort.

“<Do not let it torment you anymore. It happened in the past, leave it there. Think about your safety, about your children’s safety, that’s paramount. Your other worries are for not because Aemond is the father. You’re just overthinking it because you’re scared.>”

You nod softly in comprehension and she wipes away your tears before she presses a kiss on your forehead.

“I must go now,” she brings this moment to its end in the common tongue. “So I must ask you again, will you come?” She asks, making you smile faintly before you reject her one last time.

“I will stay, but I will be careful I promise.”

She sighs deeply but doesn’t argue anymore. “Alright. I will be waiting for your letters, and any sign of trouble.”

“Okay. I love you, mother,” you tell her before you can’t.

She smiles at you and doesn’t hesitate to say it back. “I love you too, my sweet.”

She pulls her hands away and stands up, you stand up with her and linger in each other's presence for a bit longer before you watch her leave, and with her, taking a chance for you to return home to her, but leaving you with a more sane mind. The possibility of your sin coming to life is something that can happen, but you look at the more positive side now and tell yourself that Aemond will be there, and even if there’s some chance he isn't, they can still look like you, so there shouldn’t be fear.

Besides, if you think about it, really ponder about it, Aemond is the only face you see when you think about their father. Gut feeling or not, you see him, your husband, your other half, the love of your life that you can’t sacrifice, the light in your darkness.

How twisted is that?

——

*LATER*

You can’t help it, you can’t take it anymore.

“What are you doing?” You interrupt the silence and bring your book down to stare at Aemond, who stops fiddling with the gold coin and meets your annoyed gaze.

He’s going to ask what stole your attention from the book in your hands, but he sees you looking at the coin and shows it off before he passes it between his fingers one more time just to taunt you.

“Funny,” you deadpan, making him smile faintly before he throws the coin over at you so you can catch it, but it ends up on your lap.

“Are you trying to pay for my services or what? Because I will say, being a princess, my cost is high.” You taunt and he scoffs in amusement before he mutters back.

“It’s free for me actually.”

You laugh and he finally addresses the annoying coin he’s been carrying around since you got back home. “I found it on the ground after Daemon sent those intruders in to try and kill me.”

You pick up the coin and study it. “So what you carry it around as a reminder of…”

“That he wants to challenge me, but doesn’t come and face me,” Aemond fills your silence and you really want to laugh because that is really unlikely, Daemon has been busy doing other stuff, but Aemond doesn’t look like he’s jesting so you just hum and nod in comprehension.

“Where were you that night anyway?” You finally ask since Jaehaerys ended up being the victim of this tragic affair.

Albeit Aemond just glances over at you once before he picks up your legs from his lap to stand up without making you uncomfortable and without answering your question, which is actually all you need to know that he was at the brothel. It doesn't take a genius to know, he would have told you otherwise.

“Where were you?” He asks as he walks around the map on the small table.

“With my family,” you mutter in annoyance and put the coin down to return your attention to your book, letting him know exactly what you feel, so as to not let you simmer in your annoyance, he walks up behind you and pushes the book down before he gently wraps his fingers on your chin and tilts your head back so you can meet his gaze.

“Don't be mad,” you mock him. “Is that what you’re going to tell me? I’m not. I am…not.”

He hums before he brings his lips down and presses a kiss on your forehead before he brings his face down and leaves a kiss on the top of your nose, causing a wobbly smile to start breaking on your face with no attempt to hold back. He has your heart swooning, and when he kisses you slowly on your lips your heart explodes and you can’t help but grin completely enamored.

“What are you reading?” He asks as he pulls back and stays crouched behind you.

“Just some Valyrian stuff, nothing here compares to the stuff in Dragonstone, but it will suffice.”

Aemond hooks his finger around the cover and presses it to the side so he can see the title. “<Blood Magic or Chosen by Gods.>” He reads out loud in High Valyrian. “That’s an interesting read.”

You sigh and close the book to mindlessly watch the cover. “This man lived in Valyria before it was destroyed, half of the things are hard to read because the book is old, but what you can see is just theories with evidence I don’t need.”

Aemond hangs his hands over the armrest and leans his face forward, leaving his lips by your ear. “What is it you’re looking for exactly?” He queries.

You stay quiet for a moment as you ponder in your hesitance of whether telling someone of your…gift or not. But then again, without any concrete knowledge, you can’t really say a thing. Thus you just pass it off as an interest. “I just read that back then, in Valyria, there were people who…weren’t hurt by fire, but it’s all…” you trail off in frustration so he continues for you.

“Stories.”

You shrug. “Well they are now, but it just caught my attention, you know? I just want to know more.” You say and glance at him.

He glances at you and studies you for a moment before he glances at the book. “My father had books he kept in his chambers that contained important knowledge of Valyria, like magic and prophecies and stories. I’ll bring them to you, I can’t see Aegon having any use for them.”

You beam at him. “That would be great. Thank you.” You lean in and press a kiss on his cheek before you grab his chin and interrogate him. “Now how do you know about these books and did not tell me?”

“I found them after you left for the North, I never got to share them with you,” he says. “And now, I had forgotten until right now.”

You hum and let him go to lay back and stare at the high ceiling. “Do you still read that book about that one dragonrider? The one with the three-headed dragon?”

Aemond gets up and shakes his head, but you know otherwise, so you giggle and sit up to expose him.

“You do!”

The corner of Aemond’s lips tug up and you assure him. “That was always your favorite, I think you wore it out.”

“You dropped it in the pond if I remember correctly,” he remarks. “So it was you who wore it out.”

“Okay, but it was not my fault—”

“You were walking on the ledge of the pond and tripped with the book in hand,” he cuts you off, making you laugh.

“Yeah, I paid for that by smelling like pond water for days, the smell would not get off my hair, no matter how hard I scrubbed.” You complain with a pout, making him laugh softly.

“I ended up finding the book for you after though, I remember I stole it from Dragonstone once when I happened to…venture too far on dragonback.”

Aemond sneaks a glance at you and questions you as he stops at the other side of the small table. “What was your furthest?”

You snicker and loll your head to the side to tell him. “The wall. I would have ventured further, but Astraea did not want to fly past that wall…After this war is over I’ll fly to Dorne,” you share happily with a smile. “I have always wanted to go to a Dornish beach.”

He scoffs. “Perhaps we will finally take it after this war is over. Vhagar is bigger, and Astraea is fast.”

“Not with Aegon we won’t,” you complain without shame as you sit back and cross a leg over the other. “After this war is over, we’ll see this Red Keep filled with all kinds of different wines and women before we see him again.”

Aemond huffs and surprises you by adding a comment. “You know my brother, he’s always lacked…well…everything.”

You scoff in agreement and glance at the map before you roll your eyes up and take a leap. “The crown needs someone smart, someone that holds responsibility at great value, who knows our histories, and has an heir.”

Aemond slowly looks up with a cold expression that's hard to read at first, but as you stare into his eye his expression thaws and you know you’re not trudging in dangerous waters. You actually hit the mark and seem to read exactly what he has in mind, you can see that with the glint that goes over his eye.

Alas just as the corner of his thin lips begin to drag up to a smirk, the door opens, bringing your conversation to a sudden end with no chance to spark it back up to avoid getting in trouble.

“Princess, My Prince,” one of Aerion’s Wetnurses greets as she brings in a sleeping Aerion.

“Marie,” you greet and watch her as she walks to Aerion’s cradle. “Did he eat well?”

The Wetnurse nods and looks back at you. “Very well, it seems we will have to increase his intake. He’s grown quite an appetite.”

You smile softly in awe. “He will be five months soon, so that’s it. I’m sure.”

Marie puts Aerion down and tucks him in, while from the entrance of your chambers yours and Aerion’s sworn protector walks in.

“Princess,” he steals your attention with a warm smile, but also ends up grabbing Aemond’s attention from the map he was studying—“uh…My Prince,” Ser Jason trails off to a whisper and bows his head. “Uh,” He pauses as Aemond slowly stands to his feet with nothing to say, he just stands there menacingly as if trying to intimidate the knight with his tall stature. But then again how can he when his eye is wide as if he had seen a ghost.

“Ser Jason,” you whisper back with a teasing smile and put yourself in the middle of the tension Aemond alone creates. “It’s quite alright Aerion won’t wake anymore.”

The knight's eyes stay stuck on Aemond, and Aemond continues to stay quiet and…surprised? You can’t know, so you continue in a normal tone of voice. “If you’re asking to take your leave for the night, then it’s fine, Ser, have a good night. I’ll see you on the Morrow.”

Ser Jason’s eyes flicker back to you and he nods slowly as he swallows back nervously. “Thank you, Princess. Good night to you too. And to you My Prince.” He doesn’t forget to add before he steps back to let the Wetnurse walk out before he closes the door and cuts the tension off.

“I do not want you being friends with him,” Aemond suddenly breaks his odd silence as he sits back down. “He’s your sworn protector, not someone you can be friends with. If I see it I will assign the old man to protect you and Aerion.” He snaps his eye up and you challenge him with a pointed glare for a second before you look down with an upset frown brought by defeat since you know it’s not something he’s willing to debate.

Then again not like it will stop you from actually talking to the knight unless Aemond tends to be by your side at all hours of the day.

“Have you…told the council of what I told you about Daemon heading to Harrenhal?” You drag out to avoid sitting in silence and getting mad over something that won’t change. No matter how much you argue.

“No,” he admits and gets up to pace around the table again. “Not yet. I will let them figure it out when the news comes.”

You lean forward to study the map and the markers scattered about the paper. “It may be a while,” you mention. “Daemon left suddenly that day, so who knows if he actually went to Harrenhal.”

Aemond hums and gently shakes his head. “I’m sure he did. Where else would he go?”

“You have a point. Now,” you smack your teeth and point to the Hightower marker on the map. “Is that Ser Criston.”

Aemond walks to your side and crouches to lay his hand over yours and press your fingers on the marker to push the marker forward.

“He will be moving all along the Crownlands to take the armies sworn to Rhaenyra,” he surprisingly shares with you, but half of your mind is on the feeling of his warm hand cupping yours and his lips purposely brushing against your ear.

“Once he has garnered enough men he will go and face the Rivermen to take Harrenhal,” he adds.

“With Daemon leaving with just his dragon,” you input your thoughts as you turn to look at him. “It will take him longer to gain any support. He may not even have men to challenge Ser Criston since he also did not have men follow after him.”

Aemond faces you with a smirk and steals a glance at your lips before he nods. “Exactly,” he praises you and strokes your chin, making you grow giddy and smile like a love-struck fool.

“I would also wager you could face Daemon now. He left in quite a mood. You would be doing me a favor,” you grumble and sigh as Aemond pulls away to walk around you with his eyes on the map.

“It would catch him by surprise,” Aemond murmurs, “but alas, too rash now. Those armies are our priority.”

You groan and he snickers.

“Will you join Ser Criston in Harrenhal?” You ask with your heart starting to pick up out of nervousness.

“Hm, in time, we will join him, yes.”

Your heart jumps a beat and you question what just came out of his lips. “We?”

Aemond’s gaze flickers up and he nods. “Vhagar and I could go alone, but I will face Daemon and his dragon, while you help Ser Criston and our armies.”

You keep your secret alliance in mind, but you can’t help it, you ooze with excitement at the thought of being part of something more grand than just sitting here by the fire or listening through walls. You did not think he would consider bringing you with him to fight.

Should you even consider it? Your mother would never allow you to take part in something so dangerous, but he is, he’s letting you do something great and you want to be a part of it. How can you throw away that opportunity?

“But not before we cut off Rhaenyra by land by taking Rooks Rest, after Ser Criston takes the Darklyn army,” Aemond adds, piquing your interest and panic.

“But isn’t facing Daemon more important when you have the numbers?” You ask as some discreet attempt to try and sway his mind.

“It would, but when they hear we are trying to take Rooks Rest, they will send a dragon, and I will be there with Vhagar to take them down.”

There’s no use of we now. He has no intention of bringing you to this part of his plan. Which is good in retrospect, you would give away your true loyalties to try and save whoever they will send. Yet a worry that you can’t let go of is you don’t want Aemond to die either.

You will send a warning to your mother about this plan when you can, but something that is clear is that you don’t want either challenger to get hurt. You are loyal to your mother, to her cause, but your heart is also loyal to your husband, it aches at the thought of Aemond getting hurt or even…meeting death.

How foolish is that?

And what good is begging him to stay when you see how eager he is to already play this plan out?

All you can do is take note of his plan and secretly worry. That’s why you just take in what he says with a strained praising smile before you share a short comment. “They won’t see it coming, not with Daemon gone.”

Aemond hums in agreement before he walks over to stroke your chin again to praise your thinking. “Exactly, my love.”

You smile at him before you lay back down and stare at the ceiling with worry that only strains your heart as you're torn between the two. While on your face, well, you make sure to stay nonchalant and hide anything he might pick up on by filling the silence with a haunting song.

.

.

.

.

A/N- Alexa play “The Hanging Tree” by Rachel Zegler

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @callsignwidow @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104

[pearlprincess02]

1st house synastry playlist

mirrored vibes - 1st house synastry (playlist) / outer planets / asteroids

for when their sun is in your first house:

"can't smile without you" - carpenters / "lean on me" - bill withers / "i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me)" - whitney houston / "halo" - beyonce / "let it be" - the beatles /

for when your sun is in their first house:

"count on me" - bruno mars / "a sky full of stars" - coldplay / "signed, sealed, delivered (i'm yours)" - stevie wonder / "better together" - jack johnson / "i'm your man" - leonard cohen /

for when their moon is in your first house:

"hallelujah" - leonard cohen / "fix you" - coldplay / "what a wonderful world" - louis armstrong / "can't help falling in love" - elvis presley / "i see your true colors" - cyndi lauper /

for when your moon is in their first house:

"how you remind me" - nickelback / "vulnerable" - selena gomez / "my heart will go on" - celine dion / "you've got a friend in me" - randy newman / "i'm gonna be (500 miles)" - the proclaimers /

for when their mercury is in your first house:

"thinking out loud" - ed sheeran / "mr. blue sky" - electric light orchestra / "let's go crazy" - prince / "thinking of you" - katy perry / "hey jude" - the beatles /

for when your mercury is in their first house:

"teach your children" - crosby, stills, nash, & young / "keep talking" - pink floyd / "rhapsody in blue" - george gershwin / "i write sins not tragedies" - panic! at the disco / "hey ya!" - outkast /

for when their venus is in your first house:

"crazy in love" - beyonce (feat. jay-z) / "a thousand years" - christina perri / "make you feel my love" - adele / "perfect" - ed sheeran / "you're so beautiful" - joe cocker /

for when your venus is in their first house:

"you're the one that i want" - grease / "this must be the place (naive melody)" - talking heads / "you've got the love" - florence + the machine / "mirrors" - justin timberlake / "because you loved me" - celine dion /

for when their mars is in your first house:

"livin' on a prayer" - bon jovi / "we will rock you" - queen / "eye of the tiger" - survivor / "titanium" - david guetta (feat. sia) / "fighter" - christina aguilera /

for when your mars is in their first house:

"war" - edwin starr / "bad to the bone" - george thorogood & the destroyers / "danger zone" - kenny loggins / "you shook me all night long" - ac/dc / "lose yourself" - eminem /

@pearlprincess02

main masterlist

[sp00kymulderr]

just a touch

Dieter Bravo (x afab!reader)

980 words

warnings: m masturbation, afab!reader mentioned, writer Dieter being horny af, unedited.

Does anyone else ever spend all their day thinking about...

Dieter Bravo jerking off.

About how he draws it out for hours because he loves to be teased, even if he's teasing himself. He'll watch something filthy (he's got a great selection of porn, some homemade) or look at those nudes you sent him. But he refuses to touch himself the whole time, as he gets harder and more desperate for it.

He likes the luxury of getting off in bed, on his expensive soft sheets, or in the shower with the warm water running all over his body. He gets really sensitive the longer he holds off, so he'll give it as long as he possibly can. If he really wants to drive himself crazy, he'll force himself to go do something else after getting all turned on from whatever he chose to watch - something super mundane like read his many emails, or tidy up whatever mess was left out last night.

Usually though, he'll go to the big full length mirror in his bedroom, slowly take his clothes off, appreciate his own body. He spent a long time struggling with his body image, but nowadays he loves what he sees. His broad chest, the softness of his tummy, and then the bulge in his pants before he slowly peels them off. He's never been anything but proud of his dick. As far as cocks go he's got a pretty one, everyone always says it. He's still not touching it, not now as he appreciates the view of it in the mirror. His hands might come close, as his fingers softly feel their way around his own body, mapping paths you've taken as you've explored him yourself. He'll play with his nipples, pinch at the sensitive parts of his torso and grasp his stomach, appreciate the soft feel of it. He wishes you were there right now, but he'll make do with what he's got. Himself.

Finally...oh finally he makes his way on to his bed, sat with his back against the headboard with his legs spread wide. The mirror is angled just right, so he has a good view of himself from there. He's a little flushed, cheeks reddened. He's leaking precum, made himself so fucking desperate for his own hand. He looks really good, and he knows it.

He'll use whatever is closest, spit or lube or lotion. He isn't picky. Sometimes he'll use a toy too, depending on what he wants to feel and how quick he wants to get off. He loves playing with things that vibrate but they tend to make him come quicker than he likes so he doesn't use them too often - better when you're trying to overstimulate him to tears. Usually he'll use a butt plug when he's on his own, he likes his ass nice and full as often as it can be.

Now he takes himself in his hand, and the moan he makes at that first touch is sinful. He starts off painfully slow, teeth gritted in concentration as he tries to zone in on every single thing he's feeling as his fists glides up and down his cock. He'll think of you now the most, of the drag of your cunt up his dick. Or the warmth of your mouth on him. He'll bring up every memory he has of you and him together, the way you look when he's in you. The way you cry out as he thrusts into you for the first time. God, he can't take it this slow anymore.

As he quickens his pace, the noises he makes would make anyone blush. Dieter is never quiet like this. He loves to be heard, even if it's only him who can hear it right now. More, and more, and more. His free hand is playing with his balls, gentle tugs and squeeze that makes him tense dangerously and groan in pleasure.

Will he slow down now, calm himself down before he starts up again? Well, he'll try but at this point he's possessed by the need to come. He tries to be good, he really does. The way you like it, every last drop teased out of him but holding off for as long as he possibly can You tell him to be good, but you're not here right now and he can't quite bring himself to be that good.

He'll confess later, you can punish him if you want.

He's gasping out, a needy thing, beautiful noises of absolute heady pleasure. Eyes zoning back in just enough to watch as he brings himself to the edge. His favourite part to watch, as his movements falter and his balls tighten and with a loud cry he's spilling ropes of his cum onto his lower belly, onto his fingers, wherever it goes. Messy, he loves it that way. He pulls out every last drop he can, until its too much.

His head falls back against the headboard, eyes squeezing shut as he heaves out heavy breaths while his body trembles slightly from the climax. After a moment or two, he'll bring his hand up to his mouth and lick it clean. Dip his fingers into the mess he made and taste himself. It makes him groan, he tastes so fucking good. You always tell him the same, and he knows you're not lying.

In the time it takes him to regain his thoughts, he's laid himself down on the bed properly, sprawled out and a little dozy. He gets sleepy after he's come, but not enough to actually fall asleep. He just likes to bask in the feeling for a little while while he recovers. He bury his face in the pillow that still smells of you, and close his eyes and just enjoy the moment.

And if he really needs it today...he'll make it all happen again in a couple hours.

[unlimitedlust]

Take Me Back To Eden - Noah Sebastian x Reader (+18)

Author’s Note:

Heyyy it’s me again! My fantasies have been all over Noah recently as you can see so, faster than ever (for my standards), I’ve got this story out for you. I really got out of my comfort zone for this one, but I hope you like it, let me know your opinions here later, please!!!

Disclaimers: I’m unable to write anything that doesn’t involve smut so there’s tons of it ahead, as always, you’ve been warned!!! Here we’ll also have bits of heresy, there are mentions of religiousness in a not religious way, there’s also dom! and rough Noah, oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, unprotected p in a (yes, anal), creampie, aftercare.

Again, english is not my first language, forgive me for any mistakes!

WC: 2.4K

Hope you all enjoy your time here, don’t forget to like and reblog if you appreciate it and, if possible, I’d be very happy to hear your thoughts on it!!!

Warnings done, enjoy the story!!!

End of Author’s Note

~0~

The community priest’s daughter, that’s how everyone knew you for, and despite not being as religious as your parents, you did your best to keep up with the family’s reputation, at least publicly.

At the community’s eyes you were the daughter every father wished and prayed for, but if they ever knew about your likings off the spotlights.

Noah Sebastian, the rockstar born and raised in that same community, on the other hand, was not seen with the same grace, after all, he crossed lines a good christian could never accept nor admit.

And that, him being the forbidden fruit, the bad example no one should ever follow, along with his tall figure adorned with tattoos all over his skin, drew you into him instantly. After all, everyone loves a good sin.

At first, when the two of you met, you thought you’d just take part in a harmless cat and mouse game. At that moment, in your mind, he represented no real danger since he was almost always out of town. But oh boy how terribly wrong you were.

When things started to escalate and you had a taste of his sins, you soon realized you were in serious trouble and yet you didn’t want any help out of it.

What was meant to be only a physical involvement at first quickly turned into a forbidden relationship, which now you had to hide from the world, after all your parents, and mainly your father, would never allow such a thing, not with his most precious and chaste daughter.

And it would probably cause him a heart attack if he knew that at this very moment you were fully naked, locked up with Noah in his bathroom, down on your knees with his cock deep in your throat.

Noah’s tattooed hands held you by your hair as you bobbed your head up down his length, hollowing your cheeks around him, earning deep moans out of him at each movement.

You’ve been taught your whole life that you should only get down on your knees to pray, but oh boy how you loved to get down on your knees and let him use you and your mouth to his own liking.

You pulled your mouth out completely and teased the bundle of nerves right under the tip of his cock with your tongue, a devious smirk on your lips as you watched him watch you. He tightened the grip on your hair as your tongue went on, sliding from left to right and up and down on such a sensitive spot.

“Fucking stop” He pulled you up on your feet “I don’t wanna cum just yet”

He claimed your lips and hoisted you up by your asscheeks, sitting you on the counter behind you, legs wide open as he stood between them, devouring you with his lips and tongue while his hands traveled down you your body, one of them kneading one of your boobs as the other slid between your drenched folds, collecting your slickness as his pads circled your clit, applying pressure on it, your eyes rolling back at the stimulation.

“This wet already only from getting me off?”

You couldn’t answer, all you were able to do at that moment was bite your lip to keep you from moaning louder than you should, until he drew his hand away from you.

You whined in frustration as your pussy clenched around nothing, desperate to have him inside you, filling you, claiming you.

“Noah, p-please” You tried to pull his hips closer by hooking your legs around them as your hands ran up his tattooed arms to his nape.

“Tell me what you want” He demanded, lips inches from yours as he roughly grabbed you by your face, his dark eyes burning holes into yours.

“Fuck me. Hard” You spit out filthy.

“You want it hard?”

“Plea…” You gasped audibly when he pushed himself inside you with no warning “Oh fuck”

One of his arms snaked around your hips to keep you put by the edge of the counter as he bottomed you out. The sudden stretch made your body quiver in pleasure as he started to set his pace. Without breaking eye contact between you, he’d pull out almost completely to then slam himself back in harshly.

Like a starved man, his lips ran down your neck towards your breasts, where he kneaded one with his hand while his lips and teeth nibbled on the other, taking their time on your sensitive nipples as you arched your back towards him at each thrust, head thrown back in pleasure as his cock slid in and out of you.

With no warning in advance, he pulled out of you and, as if you were a weightless doll, he manhandled you down the sink and spun you around so now you could watch everything he was doing to you in the mirror.

He pushed himself back in, harder this time, making your body jolt forwards, his hips smacked loudly against your ass as he pulled you up straight by your hair for better leverage. He hooked his arms around your shoulders and hips, bringing your back to rest against his chest and allowing him to reach a new angle inside you, his pounding faster and harder as you felt your orgasm building within.

The scene unfolding in the mirror in front of you took your lust to a new level as you watched him rail you, the way his tattooed arms wrapped around you, the way your boobs bounced with each thrust, the fucked out expression you both held on your faces as you stood there agape, a pure moaning mess.

The hand on your hip slid down your front towards your clit, massaging and rolling it between his pads, the added stimulation tightening the pleasure knot in your lower belly. Noah knew you were close because he felt how your pussy clenched around him, so he picked up his pace and intensified his fingers’ work, and with a deep last thrust it snapped.

He kept your body close and stilled behind you as your body quivered against him while his fingers kept on working on you, riding you through your high until your body felt numb.

On the verge of his self control to not cum, your clenching walls like torture around him, he pulled out of you when he realized you were done.

Your eyes met again through the mirror and he reached out for your chin, pulling it to the side so his lips could meet yours in a passionate and tender kiss.

You’d just come, yet you were still in need of more of him, your body still ached for him, the amount of time you usually had to stay away from each other due to his work had you climbing over the walls for him, and by the look on his face behind you, he also wasn’t done with you.

His cock slid up and down between your asscheeks, still slick and wet from your pussy that now contracted around nothing, missing the way he stretched it to its limit just seconds ago.

With his palms now both splayed on your ass cheeks, parting them at each rub of his cock, you knew very well what he had in mind for you next.

You’d fucked countless times already but there was one thing you’d never done, a thing Noah knew you’d never done.

And he wanted that, he wanted to be your first, he wanted to claim you, you both knew that it was the biggest token of submissiveness and truthfully trust you could give him. The erotic and animalistic sense of possession and control involved in that exchange sent your head and body to overdrive with both lust and apprehension.

“Noah…” You bit your bottom lip, the uncertainty in your voice fading as his thumb drew circles on your hole, stimulating you, his eyes never breaking contact to yours because he wanted to have and to conquer you, but he wanted you to want it, he wanted you to crave for it, he wanted to be chosen and he wanted to watch you feel every aspect of it through that mirror.

“Yeah?” The husky whisper against your ear sent a strong shiver down your spine as he kept working on easing your hole.

His cock now between your legs, slipping back and forth slowly against your drenched folds, collecting your slick and coating himself in it, and he made sure that with every slide his tip met your clit teasingly, smearing it with his precum.

To feel him and to watch the scene unfold in front of you in the mirror felt pornographic as his swollen tip peaked between your thighs with every rub. You felt yourself getting bolder and hotter, and you couldn’t help but to bite your bottom lip harder as he slid a finger in your asshole, the strange yet stimulating feeling making you melt under his control at each calculated pump of his finger stretching you, getting you ready for him.

His eyes were dark with lust as he watched you relax and give in, as he watched your body reacting to him, your pussy now dripping with how turned on you were getting as he played with your ass.

“Noah…” His name left your lips once again in a soft chant as your ass met his finger on its own, the unexpected reaction making him groan.

“Fuck…” He bit on your shoulder blade and removed his finger slowly, which soon was replaced by his swollen tip coated with his own precum mixed with your slick, lubing you.

“Will you be gentle?” You whined, voice weak in anticipation as you braced yourself on the edge of the sink you were trapped against.

“Yes baby… Let me take care of you” He trailed wet kisses from your nape over your back and shoulders, their tenderness sending another wave of chills down your spine “I just need you to trust me, okay?”

His eyes met yours in the mirror again as he positioned himself against your ass, his tip pressing against your hole waiting for your signal as his large palms kept your ass cheeks parted, allowing him full view.

“Take me, Noah”

Your lips shaped a mute “O” as you felt like your breath was punched out of your lungs when he pushed in, the initial stretch from his thickness felt like it was tearing you in half and he was not even a couple of inches deep yet. He didn’t move at first, allowing you to feel and get used to it as he peppered wet kisses along the crock of your neck, his eyes trained on your every reaction in the mirror.

Seconds later the stingy pain started to fade and was suddenly replaced by a new found sensation, a different kind of pleasure you’d never experienced before burning through your veins as your hole settled him in.

It was raw, primal, blinded and flooded your senses in sheer lust.

Noah pushed deeper and a long animalistic moan erupted from your chest, your cheeks flushing in a dark shade of pink as your face contorted in bliss.

His digits sunk in your flesh as he shifted his attention between watching your fucked out face in the mirror and his thick cock disappearing into your tight hole, the feeling of it swallowing him deeper into you making him grunt and struggle to keep his restraint under control as he too was high in pleasure, transcending with the realization that you were his, only his, fully his.

“Fucking mine”

Once you got comfortable and confident he fucked you rough, raw, your ass colliding against his hip bones with each thrust, nasty moans and unintelligible profanities being spilled out from both of you as his length was now all the way in your ass.

It felt wrong and wicked, but the idea that he was ruining you with each pound, fucking you like a filthy whore, got you spiraling over the edge in a new found layer of lust as you now had no control over how loud you were being at that point, completely tamed by how hot it all felt, how amazing he was making you feel.

Your legs started to falter as your orgasm grew hot and strong, coming in a violent and uncontrollable wave. Seeing the way you were about to fall into pieces, Noah’s hands left your ass cheeks and moved up your body, one entangling in your hair as the other moved towards your mouth, pushing two of his fingers against your tongue, forcing you to open your mouth wider as he now fucked you in an unholy rhythm.

Feeling and watching him all over you, overpowering you, desecrating you, made your body tremble violently as your climax washed away all of your senses, deafening and blinding you as your body melted under his control.

Noah embraced you in his arms to keep your body from collapsing and your legs from giving in as he now pursued his own high, which didn’t take many seconds after yours to strike him as he was desperate to cum at that point, crazed by all of you. He crushed your body between his strong arms as he came inside your ass, releasing all his spent in long and thick hot spurts, his body twitching against yours as he did so.

“I love you so much” He whispered before pulling out of you, and you immediately felt his cum start to ooze out of you down your legs.

He kissed you tenderly and then proceeded to turn on the bathtub’s faucet, filling it.

He knew you couldn’t move from the sink where you were still standing by, exhausted and overwhelmed by the newly found sensations and experiences, so he lifted you up on his arms and walked you to the bathtub, carefully setting you down in it, your muscles instantly reacting to the amazing feel of the hot water engulfing you.

Noah took his place behind you in the tub and pulled you closer, nestling you in his arms as he kissed your temples.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” His voice was laced with concern.

“I’m more than okay” You looked up to meet his eyes, reassuring him “And I loved that you were the one to do it to me”

He smiled proudly and tightened his arms around you.

“The one and only” He giggled “Like I said: you’re mine”

[sanctus-ingenium]

been meaning to draw him so here he is

Lycaon has no projectile weapons but his unique modular design means that he can be fitted with a variety of armours to fit the circumstances - in theory. in practice, actually manufacturing this armour taxed supply chains beyond their limits and although plans were drawn up for six different variations, only one was made. without the added weight of this armour, he is the swiftest of the holy beasts.

the purpose of his single extant armour set is to serve as a distraction for attacking serpents during a dragon battle. the armour restricts his movements but covers vulnerable joints (save for the lumbar spine which must be exposed),leaving few to no clawholds for serpents to cling onto. the noisemakers are similar to church bells and draw the serpents' attention, drawing them within the danger zone of lycaon's exhaust flames. this armour has been used only three or four times and without much success; serpents quickly grow bored of attacking the bells and quickly return to harassing Lycaon's companions.

a couple of centuries into his operation, it was determined that the armour had been kind of a massive waste of money and time. in more recent years Lycaon is sent into battle without armour where he is used to strafe and hassle the sinful enemy. his construction is an example of divergent Midaean design; unlike the other beasts, which were outfitted in Forza, Lycaon's weight distribution is pitched forwards to the chest, which is the location of what is traditionally called the belly furnace. this gives him a slightly more naturalistic gait but a smaller and weaker heart engine (and associated pump systems). his overall longevity in battle suffers as a result.

prior to the introduction of Leun, king of beafts, Lycaon held seniority. his speed and challenging operation made him difficult to captain and his Midaean keepers had maintained him in perfect condition for centuries longer than any of the other beasts. of extant beasts, only Pantera is older. traditionally, the knights and smiths of the senior-most beast have command in any stable. Mercury Adézan, Lycaon's enginesmith, is technically the senior-most enginesmith in the empire (responsible for designing Sir Victory's prosthetic arm) - but because of his exclusive specialisation in Midaean design, he was unable to to work on Leun, the empire's newest and greatest beast. Mercury Luca, formerly Pantera's enginesmith, was drafted into the role instead, due to Leun's similarity in design to Pantera.

this led to a snarl in the chain of command; Mercury Luca was younger and less experienced than Mercury Adézan, but had been fast-tracked to the highest-ranking position within the enginesmith profession. furthermore, Luca was partially responsible for Pantera, which was the last beast to be lost in battle due to poor maintenance (Luca's mentor and Pantera's senior enginesmith, Mercury Alfeo, took responsibility for the accident and had his right hand amputated as punishment). there exists a strong and oftentimes vicious rivalry between the smith crews of Lycaon and Leun, although the knights, Sir Honour and Sir Heaven respectively, do not participate in this squabble.

the armoursmiths also find it to be kind of silly but hey, armour is armour. engines are a little trickier to run.

[dagaz-s-disastrous-descent]

I had to make this post or I'd explode. Death Korps of Krieg and Vostroyan Firstborn are really similar, yet they show how your experiences shape you as a person.

Lets start with the Krieg boys and girls. They are a uniquely dour bunch that are willing to give their lives just to buy some time for their allies or to gain mere meters of ground in prolonged conflict. Contrary to what popular memes will make you believe they are not suicidal (hell during the Vraks conflict there is one recored instance of krieg soldiers executing their commissar because he ordered a suicide charge on enemy positions), they and their generals just see themselves as assets to be spent atoning for sins of their past. In one of the best books from 40k verse i've ever read "Dead men walking" it's portrayed briantly. Local populations inducted into DKoK regiments are stripped of their personalities and made to forget their names, their past lives and faces of their brothers and sisters to turn them into perfect meat shields ready to kill and die for smallest of advantages. Honestly, that book was brutal and it showed how dehumanising the training regime Kriegans go through really is, and to think that they are shipped off to active war zones at the age of (at most) 16 is really horrifying.

Now, about Vostroya: they too are spending their lives atoning for the sins of their forefathers; they too are a siege regiment focused on CQB and positional warfare; and they too have cool gas masks. Yet, despite all of those similarities, they could not be more different. While DKoK needs commissars just to talk with other members of the Empire because they are so devoid of common humanity, others simply feel uneasy around them. Vostroyans are one big family, ready to kill and die for each other. They are the firstborn sons and daughters of their world, being welcomed into the regiment by their aunts and uncles, who are taking care of them and keeping an eye on them on the battlefields of the dangerous galaxy of the 40k's universe. Their distant brothers and sisters prepare mastercrafted equipment, knowing fully well that the lasguns they create will be used by their kin. They are fanatical to the point of madness and their effectiveness is on par of that of the Dead Korps of krieg yet their attrition rate is much, much lower, and I think that it's not only owed to differences in equipment but also to the fact that they are loyal not only to the empire but also to each other. After all, blood is thicker than water.

Now a word about irl inspirations for both regiments: contrary to popular belief DKoK are based off FRENCH soldiers of WW1, not Germans and no, they do not use shovels more than any other regiments. A mace is a much better weapon in trench warfare because shovels have a nasty tendency to getting stuck in things that go squish. Vostroyans are a blend of cossacks, russian streltsi, Polish nobility, and professional soldiers of XVIIth century, as well as a healthy dose of Nikola Tesla-inspired dieselpunk. It's criminal how underrepresented slavs are in popular sci-fi IP's btw.