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#silver cloud lounge
fieriframes · 3 months
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[Well. An inebriated good evening to you all. Welcome to Rapheal's Silver Cloud Lounge. Slip me a little crimson Jimson. Give me the low down Brown. I want some scoop Betty Boop. I'm on my way into town. Course I'd rather... Want to thank you all for opening the program for us.]
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Six becomes Five
Inspired by @brittle-doughie and his few works about the 5 Beasts! The ones were the reader being a part of their group caught my eye, so have this!
Part 1
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You were Compassion, brilliant, and beautiful. You aided the Cookies in their times of need, when they needed you most. Helping them up to their feet, using your powers to heal them, to soothe arguments. Your friends were once like that too.
Shadow Milk Cookie loved to put on plays for the Cookies, and have them join in. He'd always give you one of the main parts alongside him. It was only fair!
Burning Spice Cookie was always so valiant in defending them, with Silent Salt Cookie by his side. The two were nigh unstoppable, and with you near to always heal any wounds, they really were.
Eternal Sugar Cookie would often join you in aiding the common Cookies, always lounging on her cloud. She always made a spot for you, though. Mystic Flour Cookie would tag along too, going on and on about things seen. It always made you smile.
Until.. something changed.
You didn't notice it at first. It was subtle things, especially whenever you weren't around. Being cruel and hateful towards the Cookies, seeing them as lesser. For not having the power baked and blessed into you six.
You only saw it all too late when your comrades gleefully recounted all that they had done during one of your meetup sessions. You were briefly in shock before shakily congratulating them. You didn't want to anger them. You couldn't take all five of them at once in a fight..
However, you didn't need to wait long. Your Creators, the Witches, soon saw this and upon seeing you untouched by greed and corruption, asked for you help.
Mournfully, you agreed.
You called them all to the spot, saying you had a dance you wanted to show them. A special one, just for their eyes. It was difficult getting them in the exact spots, but once you did..
The Forks fell, trapping them one by one. You continued your dance until the sapling of the Silver Tree was planted, where you then bowed to them.
None of them could understand. Why would you betray them?
Why were you walking away?!
"COME BACK, YOU CAN'T LEAVE!"
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For so long following that fateful day, you tried to stay there in Beast-Yeast, but it wasn't possible. Many of the remaining Cookies, that were the Faeire Cookies, couldn't bare to live there any longer.
So you said a mournful goodbye, and led the Cookies that wanted a new home to a new home. Crispia, you decided it would be called. Once many Cookies began to settle, you turned and left. You couldn't bare the thought of becoming like one of the Beasts, so you secluded yourself, changed yourself.
Your divine appearance, your name, everything. Once a Cookie representing Compassion, now you were a mere shadow of yourself. The only thing that stood constant was your Soul Jam, now a beautiful amulet around your neck instead of attached to your clothes.
It was the one thing you couldn't part with, no matter how hard you tried.
You rebuilt yourself. Made new friends, connections, loved ones.
Until the day came.
You had to return to that land to find White Lily Cookie. You didn't want to, but for the sake of the world, you had to.
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Oh, it had all gone so terribly wrong. White Lily Cookie had awakened, you had your reunion with the Faeires, and then the Seal began to undo. Try as anyone might, it couldn't be resealed.
And from the rift.. came Shadow Milk Cookie.
Without a single thought, you put yourself between the group and him.
He opened his mouth to say something, but when he spotted you, his pupils went wide.
After so long of being trapped, hidden away by the seal and vines, Eternal Sugar Cookie's constant wailings about you being tricked, manipulated, or brainwashed had gotten to all the Beasts. It was the only explanation, it had to be.
And as Shadow Milk Cookie grins widely down at you, obession in his eyes, you swear to yourself.
You really shouldn't have come back to Beast-Yeast.
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dilatorywriting · 1 year
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Heroes vs. Villains : Octavinelle [Part 2]
Gender Neutral Reader x Octavinelle vs. Rielle Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. Octavinelle Version, Part 2 ie. Your red-headed hero arrives at Night Raven College and your other aquatic friends are less than enthused.
[PART 1] [PART 2]
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The VDC is going to be one of the biggest events in Night Raven College’s history. It’s going to be spectacular, awe-inspiring, one for the history books. And somehow, by the grace of the Gods (or, well, Vil and Professor Crewel) you have tickets.
So naturally, Azul wants you to work through the entire thing.
“I know you don’t like people,” he’d smiled, as if he was offering you salvation on a silver platter. “And just think of it—all those crowds of sweaty, screaming, humans running around. It only seems right that I, as your employer and friend, do my due diligence to keep you safe during all of it, hmm?”
“We’re just thinking of your wellbeing,” Jade had piped in, a gloved hand pressed to his chest all innocent-like. You weren’t fooled for a second.
“And think of all the extra Thaumarks you’ll earn in tips!” Azul chirped. “I know being in a new world has been difficult for you in more ways than one, and that the financial burden in particular has been terribly unpleasant. So really, we’re just doing everything we can to assist you!”
Lies about being considerate for your ‘delicate mental health’ aside, money was good. Money was great. And besides, all you really cared about was the Choral Competition. As long as you could sneak away for that one, camping out in the Lounge didn’t actually seem like the worst idea in the world. The food was excellent, the atmosphere soothing, and the company was—
…Well.
‘Less than desirable’ would probably be an understatement. But Azul always let you take home the leftovers at the end of the night, and sometimes on colder nights Jade would make you a cup of cocoa with no mushrooms in it or anything. So maybe you could excuse a bit of sadism here and there.
So the VDC came and little, poor, you were squirreled away behind the gilded doors of the Mostro Lounge. Aside for the influx of costumers (and subsequent ‘event price hikes’), it was hardly different than any of your other shifts. The one notable difference was how often Azul swapped your station. Normally you were on door duty, or acting as part of the wait staff. But every time a group of RSA students strutted by in their fancy white uniforms, the Octo-Mer would shuffle you off to the kitchens. Or the bar. Or even his office sometimes, demanding assistance with clerical work.
Someone called your name and you lifted your head from your cloud of misery and menial labor—only half paying attention to the people you were ushering in towards the seating area. But instead of another unfamiliar blob waving you down, you actually recognized this guy. Him and his brilliant shock of red hair that you wouldn’t be able to miss from a mile away.
Lo – it was fork dude.
Or, well, Prince Rielle Tidal of Atlantica. But whatever. Man had pushed a utensil into your hands and told you to brush your hair with it. There was no coming back from that.
Your sun-kissed savior swerved through the line to greet you, nearly bowling you over in his enthusiasm. His RSA uniform was a blotch of bleached brightness against the sea of Night Raven’s black ensemble. Normally your rival academics seemed to travel in packs—safety in numbers and all that. But Rielle was weaving through the mass of grumpy NRC faces like he was perfectly at home.
“I decided to pop by to see Azul and his business—because, you know, he was always so smart and pragmatic so I knew it’d probably be really cool and whatever—but wow! It’s really you!”
“It’s really me,” you repeated, fighting to keep the chirp in your customer service voice. “So, would you like a table or—"
“Wait a second—Azul has you working during the festival?!” Rielle gawked, as if he was just realizing that he had stepped into a place a of business, and that you were wearing the uniform of said establishment. “That’s so cruel!”
Yes. Yes it was. But Azul was nothing if not cruel. And if this guy actually knew anything about him at all, he should be perfectly aware of that.
“Someone has to do it,” you shrugged. “Anyways, can I get you something to—”
“Wah, look at this! Shrimpy’s slackin’ on the job!”
Maybe you could put your head through the wall. That would probably be less painful.
Floyd, Jade, and Azul materialized behind you seemingly out of thin air. The terrible trio greeted your dour frown with varying degrees of spiteful glee. And… something else? There was a sort of tension about them that didn’t mesh with their usual haughtiness. It had cropped up for the first time a few weeks ago—that day at the beach. And subsequently the hours after when Jade had pulled Azul into his office to whisper all kinds of nonsense that was apparently ‘too delicate’ for you and whatever tolerance you’d built for these sociopaths.
“Actually, it’s my fault!” Rielle blurted, stepping smoothly in front of you with all the chivalry of a knight. You wanted to warn him that dipping into Floyd’s bite radius was a terrible idea, but at the same time, you were tired, and hungry, and very curious to see how this would all play out. “And I was just wondering—well… I—I mean…”
The young Prince was starting to splutter, his cheeks burning that same, hot, pink that they had all those weeks ago at the beach. He took a moment to clear his throat, compose himself, and then grasped your hands with both of his very neatly manicured ones.
You thought you heard someone gasp. Like in a period novel.
“I actually heard that you were at Night Raven too! And I’ve been looking all over for you! So—I—Would you—” More throat clearing. Floyd’s teeth were grinding together so loudly it almost sounded like a buzzsaw. “Do you want to get something to eat with me?”
There was a deafening crack and you watched as Jade nearly put Floyd through the floor in an attempt to keep him from lurching forward. You observed the scene before you with pleasant sort of surprise as the trio across from you erupted. Or, well, Floyd had erupted. Jade just had that perfectly polite smile on his mouth that let you know he was planning someone’s murder. And Azul looked like he’d just taken physical damage.
Huh. Interesting.
Then again, you’d known they were a proprietary bunch. And you also knew that you were the favorite chew toy around these parts. No one else was sturdy enough for the role, apparently.
“Oi, Princey,” Floyd snarled from behind Jade’s gloved fingers. “What do you think you’re—"
“I—” you interrupted, stepping between the rabid Merfolk and the would-be-mincemeat. “—would love to.”
Silence.
“…What?” Azul squawked.
“I’m due for my break anyways,” you shrugged, enjoying the horrible little surge of satisfaction warming your gut. Take that, you obnoxious fucks. You weren’t sure why Rielle and his crimson-monstrosity of a hairdo had set the three of them off so terribly, but you’d been on your feet for hours now. And missing all the food stalls, and your other friends, and you were going to take this petty revenge where you could.
You turned to Rielle with a polite little smile that you hoped looked more demure than scheming, and his eyes sparkled.
“You don’t mind eating here, do you?” you asked before shooting Azul an award-winning grin. “I’m sure having a Prince dining in would be great advertisement.”
“But of course,” he grit out. “Who would I be to turn down such a ringing endorsement.”
Rielle tossed an amiable arm across your shoulders and laughed that tinkling, church-bell, laugh of his. Floyd’s lip twitched and Azul snagged his arm quicker than a snake could strike. The snarling behemoth was promptly dragged off into the depths of the Lounge—Azul muttering something frantically under his breath that you couldn’t make out. He looked hunched, panicked. And whatever he was saying must have been serious enough to snag Floyd’s fickle attentions, because the too-tall henchman stayed firmly at his boss’s side. The pair of them vanished into the kitchens, the door slamming behind them.
“Just this way then, if you’d please,” Jade beamed, positively glacial.
“This’ll be great!” the Prince preened, keeping a loose grip on you as you both trailed a very stiff Eel through the front parlor. “I get to see all of Azul’s awesome accomplishments and have lunch with you at the same time!”
“The Mostro Lounge is a lovely place to dine,” you chirped, repeating your familiar, scripted, server prompts from memory. “There’s something for everyone.”
“Is that so?” Rielle hummed, as if in deep thought. “That’s very considerate of them.”
Plenty of people at this school liked to insult your intelligence, and you in turn liked to remind certain someones (Ace. Sebek.) that it was best not to throw stones in glass houses. But this was—you may have really found an actual, factual, ditz. Was this how Azul felt all the time? Looking down at you mere mortals with his superior IQ and cunning? Listening to Rielle’s innocent rambling made you feel like Einstein. It was… sort of nice.
My God, you were going to have be responsible for him, weren’t you? Is that was parenthood felt like?
Jade led you to a quiet booth in the back—the one with a direct line of sight to both the kitchens and Azul’s office. The one reserved for problem customers. You folded yourself neatly onto the cushioned bench and Rielle followed, sitting at your side rather than across the table. Something in Jade’s jaw twitched.
“What do you recommend?” Rielle asked you cheerfully, practically radiating enthusiasm. “I’m sure everything is fantastic!”
“Hmm… How about the Mixed Seafood Platter to start I think,” you grinned, turning your polite beam back on your unfortunate server. “With the Unagi, please.”
Beneath all that bubbling irritation, something in those bi-colored eyes gleamed with the barest hint of respect.
“But of course. If you’ll excuse me.”
Once Jade had retreated, Rielle relaxed back into his seat with a theatrical sigh. He brushed his neat swoop of hair off his forehead, like he was wiping away sweat from a workout.
“Phewf! Not that Azul’s friends aren’t nice and all, but they always give me a bit of the heebie-jeebies.”
That was the kindest word for ‘intense murderous aura’ that you’d ever heard.
“A bit, yeah,” you agreed easily enough. “So how do you know Azul?”
“Oh!” he perked right back up. “We were classmates! When we were younger. He was always really quiet, but also really smart! Is he still like that? Quiet—I mean. Reserved.”
A memory struck you then—of standing at Azul’s side in the lobby of the Atlantica Memorial Museum. You remembered his hesitant determination as he replaced his old class photo on the wall. The picture of a tiny, rounder, Azul standing off to the side—hunched, grey, and miserable amidst a sea of laughing faces. You couldn’t remember if there had been a brilliant slash of red mixed in there anywhere. You hadn’t even bothered to check. Because why would you have even deigned to look at the faces of a group of bullies?
Something soured in your gut.
“I wouldn’t say that, no,” your smile sharpening a bit at the edges. “He’s actually very talkative. It’s hard to get him to shut up most of the time.”
“Really?” Rielle gaped. “Wow! That’s awesome!”
Jade slithered by to drop off your appetizers, and if he noticed the slight drop in your mood he didn’t mention it. He was in and out in a flash. You could just see the whisps of his teal hair disappearing back into Azul’s office.
“Enough about Azul though,” Rielle waved off, reaching for the platter. “Tell me about you!”
“Me?” you echoed, bland. “But isn’t Azul your old friend?”
The Prince waved you off once more, cheeks pinkening all over again. “I can talk to him whenever. I’d much rather hear about you! You’re—You’re interesting!”
Now, that was probably a genuine compliment. You doubted Rielle actually meant to slight your friend companion boss by implying that the most ambitious, intelligent, cunning, and well-dressed merman on campus wasn’t interesting enough to converse about—that all of Azul’s efforts to bring himself out of the shadows and onto center stage were still wanting. But that bitter thing in your stomach was raring for a fight.
So you ruffled around in your uniform pocket and pulled out the little notebook you used to tally orders. You shot Rielle the brightest, sweetest, smile you could and watched his stupidly pretty face light up redder than his hair.
“Actually,” you giggled—giggled. Like a freak. “I’d love to hear about you.”
.
.
.
“He’s going to say something!—”
“What doesn’t Shrimpy already know, huh?” Floyd griped. “And I mean, didn’t you steal Ramshackle? You really think bubble-butt out there can do anything to make the Prefect hate you?”
Azul paced. And paced. And paced.
“It’s not about hating me,” he hissed, fighting the urge to wring his hands. “It’s about realizing there are better options out there, and—”
“Bubble-butt is a better option?!” Floyd cackled.
“Stop interrupting me!”
“Then stop whining,” the eel droned, flopping his head back against the couch. “You shoulda just let me squeeze ‘em.”
“We do not need to spark an international incident in my restaurant,” Azul repeated. Though it sounded less like he was trying to convince Floyd than himself.  “Rielle Tidal is a Prince—”
“—a shitty, turd, leftover, Prince—”
“—who we must treat,” Azul grit out, “as such.”
There was a firm rap against the door and Jade slipped inside. Azul had to fight the reflex to pounce on him immediately. Instead he took a moment to pause and straighten his suit jacket. His fingers were shaking and he was sure that Jade would have seen, but thankfully there seemed to be a single shred of mercy left in his Vice-Warden’s cold, withered, heart, and the trembling limbs were not mentioned.
Jade cleared his throat and Azul leaned forward, anxious.
“I think you may be overthinking things,” he said, calm as a cucumber, and Azul wanted to scream.
“It’s not paranoia, it’s being prepared,” he snipped. A pause. “But why do you say that? What happened? Did something happen?”
Jade smiled that placid smile of his. “No.”
“No?” Azul repeated, flabbergasted.
“No,” Jade shrugged.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Floyd piped in.
Azul was just about to turn and remind his wonderful subordinate just how terrible he could make his existence when there was another knock at the door—lighter than Jade’s but just as familiar. Not a moment later, your head popped through the crack and you peaked inside wearily.
Azul hastily cleared his throat and Jade’s grin turned smug.
“Pr-Prefect! Can I help you with something?”
Floyd snickered under his breath and Azul mentally added another three hours onto the bastard’s nightly dish duties.
You stepped inside and tossed a tiny notebook down onto his desk.
“Here,” you said, with a grumpy sort of frown on your face. “All of Prince Rielle of Atlantica’s stupid wants, hopes, and dreams. You better be able to put this to good use you stupid mafioso wannabe, because I’ve been listening to this guy ramble on about himself for ages now, and I’d rather get drowned by Jade and Floyd again.”
You turned without another word and slammed the door behind you.
Azul gaped wordlessly at the pile of tiny pages splattered across his desk, and the familiar curl of your handwriting filling each and every one of them.
“Oh,” he breathed.
“Oh indeed,” Jade grinned.
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xythlia · 6 months
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⎙ — 𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐓𝐎𝐘.𝐓𝐎𝐑
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› WELCOME TO THE RED ROOM... RESERVED FOR GUESTS OF PARTICULAR TASTES
› toji x f!reader
› word count : 2k+
- ̗̀໒ warnings : sex work, on camera, choking, my spit kink shining thru again, biting, backshots, (1) ass smack, fingering, cervix fucking, reader has hair long enough to pull, squirting, rough sex, full nelson, creampie
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You take a drag of your cigarette, bleary sleep deprived eyes doing their best to focus on the obnoxious flashing neon sign. WE'VE GOT A DOLL FOR EVERY TASTE. It makes you scoff as you grind the but out beneath your scuffed shoe, that's all they think of you all as, dolls. Props that just so happen to moan and squirt.
For the most part you keep your complaints to yourself, money is money. Not that this was what you ever pictured you'd land on as a career but it could always be worse.
Exhaling the last of the crisp night air from your lungs you pull open the sleek silver backdoor to Cloud Nine. The back hallways are made up of dim, twisting corridors. Some lead to the back offices, to security, but as you hook a left to brush past a tinkling bead curtain you're met with the large open dressing room you all share.
You prefer to spend as little time back here as possible, doing the bulk of your prep at your apartment before you're on for the night. You can't stand their mindless, giddy chatter. It also prevents you from getting attached to any of them, or taking on a puppy so to speak.
Before you can finish tucking your bag and coat away in the dingy locker your floor manager is waving a piece of paper in your face.
It makes your stomach flip.
"You got swapped, Angel can't do the red room and you're the only other experienced girl in tonight."
The red room was only ever offered on nights an experienced doll was on the floor, since the people reserving red rooms always have a... particular taste in mind. Newer girls wouldn't be able to handle it. As much of an annoyance as it is to be switched with so little notice, you don't mind. It can get dull shaking your ass for run of the mill patrons all night, plus the red room is where the real money is.
"One or-?" You ask vaguely.
"One guy, don't keep him waiting alright?" She says dismissively.
You grab the piece of paper, the list of what you will and strictly won't do for a red room service. It was standard fare: creampie, light sadism, degradation, ect. Since it wasn't too extreme you didn't bother filling it out, it's easier to just tell the guy.
It's not far to the private rooms, and part of you is more than a little eager to see just who reserved one of these eye wateringly expensive sessions.
Even bathed in the dim red lights you could tell he was attractive, dark hair and eyes that held something elusive even though he kept contact with your own.
"I didn't bother filling this out, nothing you requested is off limits for me." You smile as you let the paper flutter to the floor, taking the seat beside him on the plush lounge.
Out of the corner of your eye you see the blinking light on the camera, he already set it up to record. It makes you quirk a brow at him, usually even the most gutsy ones are a little camera shy.
He smirks at you. "I'll be gentle."
With the way he says it you know it's a lie.
With a grin you lay back, propping a pillow under your head and trying not to focus on that little green recording light in your peripheral. The worst part is being filmed, but that's part of the rooms appeal. These guys pay for the ability to record the entire session not just for being able to fuck someone with no holds bared, but the catch is the club also gets to upload it.
The feeling of his skin brushing against yours cracks your train of thought. His fingertips are calloused, hands rough but he doesn't have the look of a working man. As those fingertips caress a trail down your inner thighs you shiver, letting out a quiet gasp.
"Puttin' on a show?" He purrs.
You give a breathy giggle, winding your arms around his muscles back as he leans over you between your legs. "Isn't that what you paid for?"
He pushes against you, lips brushing experimentally against yours, and deepens it to something harsh and hungry when he feels you start to squirm beneath him. His touch feels like fire, scorching a path across your skin with every grope and fondle of your body. You feel a familiar sensation of dizziness, of lightheadedness; every movement is skilled and purposeful, a deliberate attempt to steal the breath from your lungs and leave you choking on your own spit.
His lips begin to make their way down your neck, sucking hard against the delicate skin and making you groan with every nip of his teeth. In a daze you help him undo the straps of your barely there top, head tipping back when his mouth finds one of your nipples. They get the same rough treatment as your throat, and he gives a particularly sharp graze of his teeth clearly just to hear you yelp.
Your hands cup your breasts, kneading them, as his mouth dips marks a path down your stomach. Caught up in your own eagerness you wiggle your hips slightly, anticipating what's coming only to feel him grip your legs and yank you down further. The suddenness makes you wince, propping on your elbows to see just what he has in mind.
The way he's looking at you, with such debauched hunger it sends butterflies off in your chest. You don't even know his name but you know this is the kind of man a red room was designed for. As he leans forward again between your legs you feel his erection press hard against you, making the fabric of your panties slide against your clit with delicious friction.
Before you can ask, beg, for more his thick fingers glide up the column of your throat and press hard against the sides. Squeezing against your carotid artery and making your mouth drop open. As soon as your lips part you see the shimmer against his bottom lip, watch in fascination as a thick clear string of spit comes down to meet your tongue.
Sucking his lip he brings his face barely an inch from yours, through the fuzz of your restricted blood supply you notice a scar on the corner of his mouth.
"I didn't pay for you to look at the fuckin' camera." His voice is low, gutteral.
The second he lets go your body is automatically sucking air into your lungs, hard and sputtering as you lift your hips up to grind against him. In one smooth movement, before you can even process it properly, he's got you flipped on your stomach and pulling your ass up and back.
Your cheek presses against the plush fabric, eyes squeezed shut feeling his fingers run over your damp panties. There's not even enough time to relish in the contact before two fingers have the fabric pulled to the side, his knuckles sliding past the ring of muscle makes you moan against the lounge seat.
Hearing the soft shuffling of clothes you know he's undressing, even while his other hand is occupied with keeping his fingers scissoring against your slick walls. The sudden emptiness of his fingers withdrawing was quickly replaced by the head of his cock sliding through your arousal, making you suck in a sharp breath.
Just from that little contact you can feel he's got girth and heft, excitement makes you dig your nails into the lounge and press your chest down against it, keeping your ass higher.
You hear him scoff and the sting of his hand coming down hard against your skin makes you cry out, but it's nothing compared to the biting pain as the swollen head pushes against your soaked hole. The stretch is agonizing, you're not sure any amount of prep would've been sufficient. You groan, bottom lip caught in your teeth as you feel the fabric against your face getting wet with the spit seeping from the corners of your mouth.
He doesn't wait for you to adjust before slamming his hips against your ass, hard enough to make your breathing hitch in your throat, and you can feel him brushing against your cervix. The pace is brutal, making your body jostle and shake with each thrust.
Slick squelching mingles with the sound of skin smacking skin to form a perverse melody that only heightens the tension building in your gut. Frantically you slide one hand down to rub you neglected, aching clit but before you can make contact he's got you pulled up by a fistful of your hair. The sting of pain makes tears prick in your waterline as blubbering moans spill from your lips.
The way your body rocks forward with every brush of his cock against your cervix, the way his girth makes your cunt feel overstuffed, it all makes your head spin. His grunts join the obscene cacophony of sounds along with your whines when he lets go of your hair to support your body with one arm while his other hand catches your jaw in a bruising grip.
You squirm, feeling the hot tracks of tears slipping down your cheeks but his hold is steadfast. If you had more presence of mind you'd swear you could feel your heartbeat not just through your entire body but in your cunt too.
As you dissolve in his hold, a crying whimpering mess, he pushes you back down face first into the lounge, holding you by the scruff as he repositions to hit deeper. Your moans fracture into gasps and hiccups as you clench down around him, finally able to rub frenzied circles around your clit and feel that compressed coil snap inside you.
The lounge becomes incredibly damp around your knees and your brain feels as if it's coated in sticky, thick honey.
You whimper pathetically as he yanks you up again, never breaking his pace, forces you to look straight into that ever blinking green light.
"Not all you can take is it?" He sneers, hooking fingers into your mouth and whatever reply you had gets lost in the garbled sounds you choke out around them.
When he suddenly pulls out you groan, body feeling exhausted and boneless on the comedown from your orgasm but he isn't done with you yet. He lays on his back, supporting you on top of him as he makes sure your pussy faces the cameras lens and slips back inside you.
Your eyes roll back as you struggle to help support your own weight. It catches you off guard when pulls you down so your back is pressed against his chest, both of your bodies slick with sweat and various other fluids. His arms loop beneath yours and his fingers lock together behind your neck, making your breaths come in wheezed yelps and your legs automatically rise up.
The muscles in your thighs are screaming from the strain and your lungs burn again, you feel yourself camping around him, walls throbbing and sucking his cock back in with every thrust.
You can't help but sob and blubber hoarsely, begging to cum again with every sharp upswing of his hips. His pace breaks up quickly the tighter you squeeze him, devolving into sloppy thrusts until you feel his cock throb inside you. Warm, sticky heat spreads inside you and you sigh brokenly in his hold.
The cameras unfeeling, fish eye lens catches the creamy white rings forming on his cock, the way his cum drips out of your sore pussy when he slides out of you with a throaty, satisfied groan.
You grin, slow and lazy up at the ceiling. Red room sessions aren't just about the money, they're the most... fulfilling.
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One of Us is Guilty; Prologue
Eight people, nine rooms, seven weapons. One person is guilty, and until they are found, no one is safe; from the perpetrator of the crime, or of being accused.
Characters; Vil Schoenheit, Divus Crewel, Rook Hunt, Azul Ashengroto, Silver, Jade Leech, Cater Diamond
Content; Gender-neutral reader, unreliable narrators
Content Warning; Death (not described), murder (not described)
Word Count; 1.3 K (includes guide on how to participate at the end)
Find this content triggering but still want to participate? Go to this Google Form! <- form is now closed, thank you to the people who voted!
As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist
| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue (Part 1) | Epilogue (Final)
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You were making your way down the main flight of stairs, ready to go crawl into your bed after the long day.
“Attention! Attention!” Crowley’s voice echoed over the PA system, still annoyingly chipper despite the late hour. What was he even still doing here? “Due to the weather, all remaining staff and students are under orders to stay inside the building until morning!” And the PA system cut out.
You groaned, “Seriously? It can’t be that bad–” A loud crack of thunder sounded directly above the building, causing the chandelier to shake. “Okay then,” you huffed, plopping down on the stairs, “I get the message.”
Of course, you would get stuck here for the night, guess that’s what happens when you stay back to study and work on assignments.
But you weren’t the only person stuck in the desolate halls of Night Raven College; seven others were in the same boat as you.
Vil was in the lecture theatre, reviewing his notes for the upcoming performance that the Film Research Club would be putting on next week. He too heard Crowley’s announcement and pushed his hair back, massaging his temple. He would not be getting a good night’s rest tonight.
“Tch, no use lamenting over it,” he sighed to himself. Carefully, he put the notes and suggestions away in their designated folder, and he made his way to the main hall. If anyone was still here with him, they might be there; at least he would have some company for the night, and not be alone in the empty hallways.
Professor Crewel was grading papers in the teacher’s lounge, and getting a migraine from it as well. “Have those pups learned nothing from me,” he grumbled.
He would much rather be at home in his finest pyjamas, scratching the chins of his dogs, but no, he was stuck here, and would be stuck until the storm passed or Headmaster Crowley got back on the PA system saying it was safe to leave. But knowing his employer, the man had transported himself home, leaving everyone stuck at the college oblivious.
I ought to wring his neck if he did.
Rook was in the library, perusing through various books, just looking for something to pass the time. He knew earlier that day that a storm was brewing, he could tell by the clouds and the faint smell wafting on the breeze. He also knew that Vil would be staying late, and he wasn’t going to leave Roi de Poison alone.
After going down a few aisles, Rook finally found a book to his liking. “Hmm, this is new. Ah, how interesting!” Tucking the book under his arm, Rook made his way to the lecture theatre, as that was where he had last seen Vil.
Perhaps un meurtre mystère would make for a good plot for a future performance?
Silver had fallen asleep in the cafeteria, apparently he had slept for most of the day. He had only woken up because of Crowley’s voice echoing loudly in the large, empty room.
Did they not notice? Silver rubbed his eyes and yawned. If he was here, there was a possibility of others also finding themselves stuck in the school for the night. The least he could do was make sure others were staying calm, and staying safe. Even outside of his duties he was ever still the protector, and far too kind.
“Hopefully no one got hurt…” he murmured to himself. There was something off, a dark presence of sorts, and it wasn’t just the dark clouds hurling down rain, hail, and lightning outside.
Something doesn’t feel right…
Azul was in the alchemy lab, perfecting the most complicated potion that was in his textbook; he had a reputation to upkeep after all, and didn’t want anyone usurping his rank at the top of the class.
There, I just need to add some belladonna and— the suddenness of Crowley’s overly loud voice coming over the PA system caused Azul to add too much, and the potion evaporated. Azul gritted his teeth, but took a step back. Perhaps a walk would help calm him down… he was going to have to replace all of those ingredients tomorrow…
“So close,” he hissed, and he started making his way down the hall, still muttering to himself.
Jade was washing the dirt from his hands, having just come back from checking on his fungi in the botanical gardens. He already knew before Crowley made his little announcement that he would be spending the night, which didn’t bother him all that much. Perhaps he could see what was in the kitchen, since he did have that new dish which looked and sounded to be divine.
But that could wait, Azul was most likely still working on that potion of his, and knowing the house warden, he had fumbled with the ingredients at the sudden noise and probably sulking… and Jade could use some amusement at the moment, and a sulking and slightly peeved Azul would do the trick.
Cater was in the kitchen, retrieving something for Trey since they were all out in the Heartslabyul kitchen. Of course it was something sweet, but Cater would rather be here than see the outcome of the freshmans’ antics. Sorry freshies, you’re on your own!
But now he was stuck here for the night, and having nothing better to do, and boredom starting to creep in, Cater brought out his phone and started recording. 
“It’s Cay-kun here!~” He gave a peace sign to the camera and stuck out his tongue. “Let’s see who we can find!” And he started chatting to the camera and walking towards the main hall.
Eventually, everyone had made their way to the main hall; you, Silver, Vil, Professor Crewel, Rook, Azul, Jade, and Cater. But there was no sign of Headmaster Crowley.
“Have any of you pups seen the Headmaster,” Divus asked, turning up a brow, and looked at his students with suspicion.
Everyone shook their head no. Divus sighed, and turned around the corner, in the direction of the Headmaster’s office, but he stopped in his tracks.
Curious, you looked to where Professor Crewel was staring; lying in the middle of the floor was Crowley, and he wasn’t breathing.
Dire Crowley was dead, murdered. And everyone was a suspect, including you.
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About this Event
That's right folks, a classic murder mystery in the style of the board game Clue and some inspiration from the book And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie.
At the beginning and end of each part, I will be including a link to a Google Form where people can vote for who they think is the murderer, what room the murder took place in, and the weapon that was used. There's also an optional question where you can explain your answer, just do know that everything was randomly chosen by a spinner.
The form will be active for at least 72 hours; it may go on for longer if I'm busy. A new form will be added with each part, just with the suspect, room, & weapon that was voted in the last part being removed if they were incorrect... and may take some inspo from the book I mentioned.~
In future parts there will be dark content, as this is a murder mystery; all of the content warnings will be included at the beginning, and also tagged (ie. cw death). Because of this, I will not be tagging people in future parts just as a precaution.
Now, let the investigation begin!
Link to Google Form
Suspects:
- Silver; the kindhearted knight with a mysterious past, is it just for show?  (Plum) - Vil Schoenheit; the actor who is always pigeonholed into the role of a villain (Scarlet) - Divus Crewel; the alchemy teacher with a penchant for fashion, Crowley's co-worker (Peacock) - Rook Hunt; the enigmatic hunter who always has a hunch of what's happening (Mustard) - Azul Ashengrotto; the owner of The Mostro Lounge, a businessman with dubious morals (Green) - Reader; the 'house-keeper', a role that was imposed on them by the late Headmage (White) - Jade Leech; a student enamored by fungi and seems to have a foreboding presence about him (Orchid) - Cater Diamond; the preppy beau of Heartslabyul, but his smile seems forced (Peach)
Rooms:
- Main hall - Teachers' lounge - Cafeteria - Kitchens - Lecture theatre - Botanical garden - Alchemy lab - Library - Crowley's office
Weapons:
- Revolver - Rope - Dagger - Wrench - Candlestick - Lead pipe - Magic
...
Tags; @afunkyfreshblog, @aqua-beam, @azulashengrottospiano, @eynnwwyjth, @hisui-dreamer, @hydra-sea, @identity-theft-101, @inkybloom-luv, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @leonistic, @lucid-stories, @officialdaydreamer00, @ryker-writes, @savanaclaw1996, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii
533 notes · View notes
rggie · 2 years
Text
when you ignore them but you’re actually upset. ← p.1 p.2
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characters: azul, riddle, malleus
summary: you ignore the housewardens, but it’s not a joke, or a trend. you’re actually upset | requested by anon, sequel to this!
cw: mild language, sfw, a little bit of hurt/comfort, crack & fluff, established relationship, gn! reader.
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azul ashengrotto
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• azul is trying to act unfazed, looking at the situation from an unbiased viewpoint—but his emotions get the best of him. he’s criticising himself for not being aware of your emotions. he’s your boyfriend, for crying out loud! had he been too engrossed in work? he thinks he’s hiding it well, but the tweels have had ENOUGH of seeing their housewarden slumped over his desk. jade threatens to overthrow him while he’s in a ‘weakened state’. and as for floyd … there’s only one way he knows how to fix this.
• violence!!!! well, he’s not physically injuring you; he comes close to it, though, hurling basketballs in your direction. fortunately, he seems to miss every time he aims. you’re not sure if he’s doing that intentionally or not. and maybe maybe violence is the answer, because floyd has you storming into azul’s office, the eels on your trail not far behind you—bullseye!—floyd finally hits you slam bang in the back of your head, knocking you right into a very flustered azul’s arms.
• you guys can make up after you make sure the common enemy (floyd) is on toilet cleaning duty for a month. azul promises he’ll treat you for putting up with his antics. whatever drink you want, on the house. want him to cook you something? he’s on it. mostro lounge is a free-real-estate for you and only you. so trust him when he says he’ll do better. he’ll try to open up. all the gritty, embarrassing sides to him that he buried under sand years ago; he’ll start digging, and lay them out for you to see. just promise not to judge him too harshly, okay?
riddle rosehearts
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• i’m not saying it’s a good thing, but this is honestly humbling for him. he approaches you to ask if you want to go to tea with him, only for you to turn around and leave before he can open his mouth! the audacity???! ace is wheezing, finding the situation hilarious, so riddle thinks it’s prank. until he takes a good look at your expression, and realises it isn’t.
• everyone is absolutely flabbergasted when riddle gets shouted at for daydreaming in potionology class. darn, he was thinking about you!! how dare you cross his mind! riddle is incredibly red-faced, on the verge of tears ashamed. he realises that this is not good for you or him. he wonders if your grades are slipping, or if you’ve been doing your homework, or if—okay, he’s had enough. he will make things right.
• riddle is a try hard. he aims for only the best in everything he does; he can’t settle for anything less. it’s something that’s been drilled into him. so he’s certain he’ll give you the best apology because he loves you, and thinks you also deserve the best. he’s asking you to still consider his offer (you know, the tea) with his arms folded across his chest, cheeks puffed like an angry chipmunk. if you say yes, it’ll be the best tea party you’ve had in your life. he’s written a script for his apology and he’s reading it out, trying his best to not let his voice shake. please enjoy yourself.
malleus draconia
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• oh boy. you’re upset, he’s upset, the whole of diasomnia are upset. there are literal storm clouds above his head. sebek cries for him. silver’s awkwardly coaxing ice-cream into his mouth. lilia will ask malleus if he’s ok and he’ll laugh, say something corny like “ha! i would be a fool to let this distress me.” whilst exploding his phone into smithereens, clearly distressed.
• once he’s alone, he’s like like (ಡ‸ಡ)… behold, a troubled malleus draconia. he really hurt you, and that really hurts him. the diasomnia boys are lost. they have no choice but to threaten you. but if that makes you even more upset, and malleus finds out?? people in a 10 meter radius of him better watch out. it becomes a tongue twister: diasomnia are mad at you, he’s mad at them, and you’re mad at him.
• he’s messaging you off lilia’s phone like a child with a crush, and if you don’t reply? he’s sending emails to your school email like they’re love letters. you fear the teacher’s reactions when they see your inbox. if you continue to ignore him, he’ll simply teleport to you as soon as he can to apologise for his and his attendants’ behaviour. he’s never felt this way about someone before, so they’re quick to protect him even when he’s the one in the wrong. for the sake of everyone’s sanity, let him into your heart again.
<-
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rubiehart · 3 months
Note
can you write something for jj + pope having a crush/dating a kook! reader? headcanons maybe? :)
i think you meant them both separately having a crush on kook!reader like not both at the same time?? but if this isn’t what you’re looking for lmk and i can totally rewrite it!! also this came out way longer than expected, i got carried away…
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JJ!
✧ contrary to popular belief, i feel like he wouldn’t come up to you right away, especially if you were the so called ‘kook princess’, he’d study you from afar at first, catching glimpses of you at a kegger or maybe on the marsh with your girls catching some sun in your skimpy little bikini.
✧ you’d catch his attention because you weren’t a complete bitch like a lot of the other kook girls he’d had encounters with for starters, but also because you were the complete opposite of the tom boy-ish girls from the cut.
✧ he wouldn’t mentioned his (not so) little crush on you to any of the other pogues because he knew exactly what they would say ‘she’s too good for you jj.’, knowing all about his promiscuity, but he wasn’t gonna give up so easily.
✧ you first talked to him at some kegger thrown for the start of summer, despite your good girl reputation you and jj managed to bounce off each others jokes pretty much all night, bantering like friends which was refreshing coming from a kook, he hadn’t expected you to be like this but he somehow liked you more because of it.
✧ this obviously confused the pogues. jj bagging the kook princess? no chance. you were polar opposites. when jj was questioned about it he just told john b ‘what can i say man, opposites attract.’ with a wink which made john b roll his eyes.
✧ you’d been talking for a while when you came to realise the talk about the ‘big bad pogue jj maybank’ wasn’t real, and he was a genuinely nice guy and you really did like him even though he wasn’t the kind of guy you’d usually go for, stuck up preppy assholes were more expected, you guessed. that’s why so many people questioned your close relationship with jj and why you’d bother with a pogue like him, which you’d answer with some more than impolite remark or hand gesture or a punch in the face, when some bitch spoke about the man you were forced to love in secret because of the split between kooks and pogues.
✧ after you started dating and the news was out to the island, the waters seemed to calm down and you could walk around the island together holding hands, truly in love without getting yelled at by some random boneheaded kook just for simply being together.
✧ when he’d spend the night at your house, he’d be surprised by the luxury you’d been given on a silver spoon all your life, not exactly envious per-se just more shocked you weren’t a brat about it, lounging on your comfy mattress that he seemed to welcome him perfectly, your warm skin pressed up to his own and just you. clouding his senses as he drifted off to sleep with a lil’ smile on his face.
✧ you’d wear his shirts to bed sometimes when he’d sleepover, seeing them practically engulfing you making him all warm and fuzzy inside, leaning to press a big sloppy kiss to your lips making you giggle and push him away, whining “jayjjjj!” he’d just wink and reply “y’know you love me pretty girl.”
POPE!
✧ pope is honestly such a sweetheart so i feel like he’d be introduced through friends, way too nervous to go up to you himself, eventually your friends would scatter leaving you both a little further down the beach huddled around the fire pit soaking in the little warmth the flickering flame gave out.
✧ he’d be stuttering over his words, trying to keep eye contact with you through the conversation but it was a challenge because you were easily the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.
✧ after talking for a little while you took a liking to him, inviting him to hangout at the beach the next night, deciding to set up a little beach picnic for the two of you, wanting to get to know him properly away from your tipsy conversation at the boneyard party the previous night.
✧ he’d gone home and told the pogues about the night you had planned, all giddy and smiling, john b slapping him on the shoulder with a prideful grin “that’s my boy.”
✧ he’d arrived at the beach, a lot quieter than usual especially when the sun was setting, seeing your white jeep in the parking lot, clearly empty and mad his way down to the shoreline, spotting you on a white and red checkered blanket, waving rapidly and giggling when you saw him smile and wave, shoving his hands into his pockets and making the rest of the way over to you.
✧ his body tensed up when he saw you wrapped up in a pretty yellow sundress, hugging your body in all the right places and your hair flowing freely down your back and splayed over your shoulders care-freely. “hey pope!” you smiled, getting up to engulf him in a hug, breathing in his musky scent and settling down onto the picnic blanket. he reciprocated the hug and pulled away looming into your eyes.
✧ “you uh, you look really pretty.” he stuttered out nervously, gesturing to your figure. you giggled and raised your eyebrows, eyes taking down his own body, “you clean up nice yourself, heyward.” you smile, which you see a faint blush grace his cheeks which you decide not to poke fun about, already sensing his nervousness, which honestly you found adorable.
✧ you continued in comfortable conversation about anything and everything, once he got comfortable enough he started telling you all about himself, his dad’s business, where he was planning to go to college and his goals for the future, he seemed to know what he wanted which was a total green flag, giggling at all of the jokes he’d make and adding in your own little stories every now and then.
✧ as the sun started dipping beneath the horizon casting a dark orange hue over the whole landscape, and most of the food was gone, excuse a few spilled grapes from trying to throw and catch them into each others mouths, giggling loudly when they missed and bounced of pope’s forehead, he turned to you, “i always thought you were the prettiest girl on the island.” your eyes met his at his sudden confession and you looked suprised, never been told something like that before, “really?” you whispered quietly, not quiet believing what he said.
✧ “really.” he said, feeling a spur of confidence seeing the starstruck look on your face and deciding it was now or never. “want me to prove it?” he whispered, leaning in to tuck a lock of hair behind you ear, you nodding dumbfoundly and swallowing, not believing this was really happening. he leaned in and your warm lips were connected passionately, tasting him on your tongue, and nothing else mattered.
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kurogane2512 · 11 months
Note
Would you ever do anything along the lines of fem reader losing her virginity to Himeko?
I personally would be on cloud 9, legit floating in heaven. Himeko is one of the few fictional women I'd absolutely be on my knees for and let her do anything, literally anything to me. No I'm not down bad wdym I'm barking!!!?
18+ CONTENT MDNI
Game: Honkai Star Rail
Characters: HSR Himeko x fem!reader
Type: Smut and Fluff (fingering, teasing, mommy Himeko strikes again
Himeko for sure has a dominant nature but it's not as hardcore, she's more on the caring and motherly side. The kind to ensure you aren't hurt in any way and also note what you like and dislike. On that note, if she's taking your first time then expect pure bliss. She can be rough, no doubt, but not on your first time. On your first time, your pleasure is her utmost priority and she will make sure you have the best time of your life. After all, a first time only happens once and she'll be more than delighted to take yours.
PRAISES! PRAISES EVERYWHERE! You won't even realize you have a praise kink until she starts showering you in compliments and you are dripping down, she's just silver tongued that way. Teasing? Yes, but very sweet. Also, very very slight edging, she just wants to hear you whimper her name and once you do then she'll generously reward you.
Oh and if you say you want to do her then don't worry, she will diligently guide you~ I might be bringing over HI3 Himeko slightly but I imagine she will have a bit of a teacher/mentor nature in case you are doing her for the first time. Telling you how she likes it and whispering words of encouragement as you follow along, and of course praising you for doing well and making her feel good~
You have no idea how you ended up here. It was supposed to be a simple evening with you and Himeko drinking coffee and eating snacks together in the lounge. Yet, here you were both entangled with each other and engaged into a passionate and deep kiss. Perhaps it started when you asked about her love life, which in turn prompted her to ask about yours. Then eventually it led to you confessing your feelings for her and she surprisingly accepted.
"Mhm- Himeko...!~"
You moaned into the kiss, making her only come closer and hold you tighter. She licked your lips and you let her in, her tongue exploring your mouth and swirling with your own. Your mind was hazy from all the sensations you were experiencing for the first time, and it seemed Himeko only wanted to go further.
"You are so sweet, Y/n. I can't hold back~"
Well, who were you to deny this opportunity with the woman you loved? You both made your way over to her room and she quickly kissed you again as soon as you barely even entered, her hands fiddling with your clothes as she kicked the door close. You shifted towards the bed while she took off your shirt before gently pushing you to sit down on the edge.
She then proceeded to slide her own dress off, giving you a tempting show as you watched her slip off every piece of her garment before she straddled your lap and made you lie down completely. Your face flushed looking at her above you, her eyes glinting with lust and desire. Before long, numerous kisses were placed all over your neck and chest, every touch of her lips made you feel on fire.
"You don't know how happy I am to take your first time, darling. Just relax, I'll handle everything~"
You nodded with a blush, she slid her hand towards your abdomen and rubbed your core over your panties. Your body shivered at her touch, and she could already feel how wet you were becoming.
"My, how sensitive you are. Or perhaps it's because it's me? Hehe~"
She buried her face in your neck and licked on a spot before wrapping her lips around and gently sucking, you felt her teeth lightly graze your skin and your head shot back with a gasp. At the same time, her finger was circling your clit over your panties making you restless, you wanted her to touch you directly.
As if she read your thoughts, she finally slipped her hand under your panties and caressed your folds. Your juices coated her fingers, her lips nibbling your ear and tongue licking the edge.
"I'm going to go in, try to relax and loosen up."
She whispered in a low husky voice, and that only made you contract instead of relax. She chuckled and slowly inserted one finger, you moaned as she went in and circled around your hot and spongy walls.
"So tight and wet, all for me. Oh, you are so adorable, my sweetheart~"
Your mind was going numb, everything was too much. Her presence and being filled each of your senses; your eyes were fixated on her as she watched your reactions, your nose was overwhelmed by her rosy and addicting scent, your ears were tingled by her hot breath and angelic voice, and the only touch you could feel were her fingers scissoring inside you.
All of a sudden, she hit a particular spot which made your eyes widen and arch up in pleasure. Oh, how she loved that reaction. She had found your weak spot. She inserted a second finger and gathered your juices before thrusting in and out, hitting the same spot over and over.
"A-Ah! Himeko! A-Aahn!~" you whimpered and she smirked, she knew you were close now.
She thrusted in and out a few more times and you finally released, an electrical feeling surging through your body. She took out her fingers and gazed at them coated with your slick. You laid panting on the bed and watched her lick her fingers, savoring every drop of your cum which only made you flustered even more and you turned away from her out of embarrassment.
She chuckled at your surprising yet cute reaction before laying down beside you, wrapping her arms around your waist and hugging you from behind. Her breasts pressed against your back, lips planting light kisses on your shoulder before she rested her head atop it.
"Was that too much, my dear?~"
"N-No, I just....I-It's embarrasing...."
"Hehe, I see~ Did you like it?"
"Y-Yes, of course....I never had any doubts."
"Aww, you are so cute~"
She kissed your cheek, you slowly turned towards her and found yourself between her soft bosom. Her hand wrapped around your head and pulled you closer, her soft breasts enveloping your head while she placed kisses on your forehead.
"I....I want to do you too."
You requested which caught her off guard, but she was more than happy to oblige.
"Of course. I'll be in your care then~"
355 notes · View notes
jeonjcngkook · 2 years
Note
Can you do a drabble wherein the oc and jk make a bet where they try not to kiss each other!? Just imagine 🥺🥺🥺🥺
say less 🥺
to be loved by you | jjk
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⤑ pairing: jungkook x reader
⤑ genre(s)&au(s): sfw nc17+, fluff, romance, established relationship, domestic happiness, slice of life
⤑ word count: 2k+
⤑ warnings: suggestive, making out
⤑ summary: you come across the 'try not to kiss' challenge on tiktok and you want to test your boyfie to see just how much he can resist.
⤑ note1: i love them sghdgfjshgfdh. thank you for this ask! im so thankful i have been able to write this <333 i hope it reaches your expectations my love!
⤑ note2: unedited and not betaed lmao but my beloved love @caelesjjk did read over it, thank you angel — this is for u!
masterlist
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Early Saturday afternoons. Your favourite time of the week.
The time of week where you can let yourself be free of any commitments, the working week fully behind you. A day made up of zero plans.
Today couldn't be more idilic as the heavens sky opens wide, casting pillowy grey clouds over the city skyline and gentle pitter patters of rain drops against the glazing of your window. It eases your mind, furthering you into your state of bliss.
Your phone rests in your hand as you lazily lounge on the sofa, legs draped over your boyfriends lap as he continue to skim through tiktok, watching funny reddit threads and hairtoks while Jungkook rests his forearms across your legs, console controller in hand as he concentrates on the TV in front of you both, mindlessly walking through the map of the newest game he’s purchased.
He’s a natural beauty. With his hair parted down the middle and yet most of it is swept to the left, covering his eyebrow piercing that glitters when the sun decides to crack through the clouds and through the spaces in the blinds hung on the window. His eyes narrow as he becomes more absorbed into the fantasy world in front of him. A slope to his little button-like nose which ends just above the curve of his cupid's bow — heart shaped and pretty. You watch as your boyfriend’s tongue peeks out absentmindedly every so often, licking at the pretty little silver ring that rests beautifully on his lower lip. And his lips, oh goodness, his lips. Pink. Full. So so pretty.
What’s when the idea hits you.
Retracting your legs from Jungkook’s lap, you remove yourself from the comfort of your sofa and feign fixing something on the coffee beside you. Secretly, you place your phone horizontally down onto its side beside your favourite vase, making sure that the lens of your camera is facing Jungkook for what you’re away to do.
You turn back towards Jungkook and he moves his arms again, expecting you to place yourself back in your previous position sprawled across him but instead you take this opportunity to squirm into his lap, thighs on either side of his tiny waist as you nuzzle yourself into his neck, catching the fabric of his hoodie as you dip down. Inhaling, you catch the scent of jasmine and lily from the washing detergent you both use. You crack a smile as you nuzzle further into the smell, closing your eyes to bask and clawing your nails like a kitten finding comfort in your boyfriend.
Jungkook lets out a low laugh at your new position but entertains it nonetheless, completely oblivious as to what’s to come. He adjusts himself in the centre of the sofa with you still in his lap and resumes his game as he wraps his arm around your body; picking up the controller once more and continuing on with his game.
Five minutes pass and you decide that now is the time. You lift your head out of the crook of Jungkook’s neck and sit straight, now blocking his view of the TV. The buttons on the controller come to a full stop as your eyes follow the silence, watching him press on the pause button before placing the control down next to his knee on the couch.
“What’s gotten into you, darling?” Jungkook softly asks, his hands skimming past your cotton shirt and placing them directly onto your waist. You feel heat follow his touch as his thumbs rub back and forth on your skin. It’s gentle and loving.. just like Jungkook.
“Let’s play a game,” you say, a smile making its way to your face.
Jungkook’s eyes trail down your face and stare as your smile gets wider, a little cheekier too as you fully settle your body in his lap, the cushions of the sofa below your knees makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. Jungkook’s hands find your hair and you let him tangle his fingers through the strands delicately playing with the ends of them before tucking it behind your shoulder, exposing the skin of your neck. “And what game requires you to sit in my lap like this?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrow.
Your own hand is steadily pressed against his abdomen as you begin to trace your right index finger down his toned stomach, the ridges of muscle below tightening under your touch as your mouth waters at the sight.
Moving forward, you tilt your head to the side slowly and gently, watching as Jungkook replicates the movement in the opposite direction. You make sure to tease him a little more as your left hand raises your boyfriends chin to the side briefly, allowing you to press your lips to his neck, peppering open mouthed kisses along his throat and up towards his jaw, before finding a little spot to delicately suck rose petals into his skin.
The grip on your waist kneads at your flesh as the pleasure creates the hair on his arms to stand. You hear a little moan slip past his lips and you know that you have him exactly where you need him to be. Pulling away from his neck, you watch as a little love bite blossoms on his skin and you grin devilishly at your mark. 
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you entwine your own fingers together behind his neck and lean back towards his lips. Your eyes lock with his own dark irises, your mouth only a hair's breadth away from each other.  “The game where you try and not kiss me.” You whisper, your lips brushing over his own as you sound the words out.
Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to grin. It’s known to you just how competitive he can be — but he’s never competed for intimacy with you before.
He straightens his posture below you and pulls you closer to him. His palm reaches for your cheek, palm under your jaw and fingertips resting on your neck, pulling your head towards him, lips in front of lips, you can almost taste the mint on his tongue. His thumb strokes your cheek and your eyes flutter shut at the contact. “But you can’t resist me, darling,” he whispers, voice airy and light, teasing too and you can't help but whimper.
You take a deep breath, willing yourself to snap out of your daydream and look back into his eyes. Your tongue slips past the seam of your lips and you teasingly glide it along your lower lip before pulling the skin in between your teeth, biting down on it.
Jungkook giggles. It’s velvety and comforting. He moves his head an inch closer, your noses now grazing each other as he rubs up and down causing a giggle of your own to fill the space around you both.
At his words, you allow yourself to grind into his lap teasing him and you feel his hand around your waist tighten and watch as his breath stutters on the exhale and you can’t help but feel the rush of pride as you watch him weaken for you.
You don’t feign much better though. A warmth blossoms in your tummy and courses through your veins at your own movement and your automatic response is to kiss his pretty pink pouty lips. But with much vigour, you steer away from your thoughts and continue to stare deeply into his eyes. It’s been what? Three Minutes now? You think.
With a wandering eye, you side eye your phone which is still hidden behind the vase on the side table, smirk and stare back at him. “How’s your game going?” You ask, watching Jungkook’s own eyes flicker down to yours with the movement of your words, the sound light and airy with troubled confidence as you try to keep the proximity between you both exactly where you are.
“It’s…it’s going well. I’ve finally m-made it into the elite ranking,” he stutters his words at the movement of your hips in his lap.
Jungkook’s eyes darken immediately and his pupils blow out as the temptation begins to swallow at him. He swallows hard, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips and your instant reaction is to cradle his cheek in your palm. His head nuzzles into the warmth of your hand and you can’t help but trace your thumb over the wet skin of his lips, back and forth.
“I’m finding it incredibly difficult,” he starts, “having you this close to me, in this position, and not being allowed to kiss you.” His breathing is heavy and his hands are busy running up and down your sides, kneading, pulling, anything.
Your eyes flutter shut at the actions of his hands and your head falls forward, closer towards his awaiting mouth and he thinks he has you as his own lashes kisses the apples of his cheeks in preparation for your kiss. But your free hand juts out at the last minute against his chest to steady yourself.
“You know koo, you could just kiss me,” you whisper, your lips brushing across his own as you talk. “However I am so happy you ranked up,” you purr, rolling your hips harder on top of him, you feel your boyfriend’s movements match yours from below.
Jungkook’s resolve starts to break as his gaze settles on your lips, desiring a kiss that you’re toying from him. His hands slide down your ass and he quicks it a hard squeeze, his forehead now completely against yours. He rubs his own nose against yours once more and a growl deep from his  chest erupts as he maintains the last ounce of resistance in his body.
But Jungkook loves, adores, when you’re needy and whiny for him. It plays into his masculinity that his girl is there begging for him to make her feel good and that is just what you do.
Both of your hands slide to the back of his neck and lace within each other, resting your warm palms at the back of his head. “Koo, please, just kiss m-,” you mewl and pull at the long strands of his hair at the nape of his neck.
The desire that has been palpable between the both of you finally cracks and Jungkook’s lips surge forward and finally collides with your own, cutting off the end of your sentence.
The kiss starts off slow and gentle, pecks upon pecks on your lips but quickly everything devolves from there, moving into something deeper, with more passion, heat, filthy and wet. Jungkook pulls your lower lip into his mouth, nipping hard and exploring your mouth with his tongue as he pushes past your lips and tangles his wet muscle with yours.
It’s dizzying and all consuming as you get so lost in it that you forget that next to you there is a phone recording this for your tiktok account and yet you can’t find it in yourself to care. You press back into it with your eagerness, the warmth that was once in your stomach now a fully blossomed fire as you begin to fight for faux dominance against him, and Jungkook fights back just as much with a smile into the kiss and a rock of his hips pulling a whine out from you.
All too soon, he pulls away from you leaving you both with heaving chests, gasping for air as you both stare at each other's kiss bitten, swollen lips — wanting nothing more than to have him again and again and again. He smirks at you frivolously and his hand comes up to hold your own cheek in his palm.
“Don’t know what you’re smirking for, you just lost,” you grin at him.
Jungkook is quick to pull you back towards him with a laugh. “Worth it,” he mouthes as he kisses you intensely one more time.
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⤑ note3: don't be a silent reader & leave some feedback in my asks, reblog with a nice comment or even a lil reply saying if you enjoyed — big or small, they go a long way! supporting writers is always important <33
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rottenpumpkin13 · 20 days
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now, we know about the first class idiots and their toxic relationship with queen’s blood…but what about fort condor?
Why Fort Condor Is Banned From The SOLDIER Floor
• The game pieces are tiny and easy to lose, which becomes annoying when people want to play but the board game is incomplete. Irresponsibility on its own would've been fine, but this peeves Angeal immensely, who began disciplining the Seconds and Thirds with cruel and unusual punishment.
Zack lost half the pieces one time, which is how Lazard walked in on Angeal using Zack as a mop to clean the floor. • The Fort Condor board itself can be used as a weapon. People have been known to grab the board mid-game and slam it into their opponent's face. This is how Sephiroth got a concussion and the reason Genesis was shoved down the trash shoot immediately after. • Genesis has no patience. He has been known to take his sword and smash the board when he's losing, usually when provoked by Sephiroth who finds it funny how the red in his face matches his coat. • The Fort Condor pieces can be used for bullying. Since the pieces go missing frequently, people have to replace them so they get them custom made to look like their coworkers. Zack got the condor to look like Cloud one time. Cloud thought it was a chocobo. This angered Cloud greatly. It took three hours to remove the chocobo piece from Zack's nasal cavity. • The SOLDIERs (+Cloud) started playing against each other and forming teams, which reaped animosity in the workplace. Kunsel put out a hit on Roche's head (or a shave on his head). Zack locked Angeal in a broom closet out of spite and made him miss a whole mission. Sephiroth and Cloud couldn't walk past each other without trash talk. And the entire Third Class revolted against Genesis and spray painted his office door metallic silver with the words "WE LOVE SEPHIROTH" • The threats Lazard heard when he walked by the lounge were getting ridiculous, and most of them were said by Sephiroth. The most unsettling ones he's heard from him are Sephiroth: "I will use your femur as a back scratcher." Sephiroth: "I will superglue your nostrils." Sephiroth: "I will make a beaded necklace with your teeth." Sephiroth: "I will electrocute your kneecaps." Sephiroth: "I will salt your eyeballs and lick them repeatedly." Sephiroth: "I will stalk and pursue you for the rest of your life, becoming so ingrained in your subconscious that you see me whenever you go and obey me like a puppet." • He barged into the room after that last one and found Sephiroth already knocked out with a fire extinguisher and Cloud standing over him going "I panicked" • This coincides with the reason watermelons are banned. Angeal brought one back on a mission one day and put it in the break room. Sephiroth and Genesis were playing a round of fort condor, Sephiroth realized Genesis was cheating, went to the break room, grabbed the watermelon, then proceeded to shove Genesis' head inside of it. • Sephiroth is stupidly good at Fort Condor and it angers people. Lazard himself played a round against Sephiroth once and felt indescribable rage. He had to sit there with Zack fanning him with a magazine until the desire to staple Sephiroth's hair to the floor subsided. • Two games ended in crime scene tape and one of them had Zack's chalk outline in it. • Lazard wouldn't bat an eye if he saw someone on their break playing Fort Condor Online, but the last time he saw that it was Zack trash talking a ten-year-old child online who was winning. 
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fieriframes · 2 months
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[Well. An inebriated good evening to you all. Welcome to Rapheal's Silver Cloud Lounge. Slip me a little crimson Jimson. Give me the low down Brown. I want some scoop Betty Boop. I'm on my way into town. Course I'd rather... Want to thank you all for opening the program for us.]
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blackcherryvelvet0909 · 9 months
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Morning Surf (Jack x GN!Reader)
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You yawned again as your feet hit the sand, arms stretched above your head, a sigh to follow as your back softly popped. Your hands came down to wipe the remaining crusts from your eyes, still partly drooped as you tried to wake up. Honestly, you could only remember half the trek down here - really didn’t remember dressing yourself, either. Your consciousness finally awakened to the sound of the waves ahead of you. The sky was dusted with a few thin clouds, the sun hung high enough to be just past daybreak. Aside from yourself, there was nary a soul on the beach. 
“Do you need a break?” Ah, yes, in your sleepy haze you almost forgot your companions behind you. While Jamil brushed past, Jack remained at your side, surfboard tucked under his large bicep. “We’ve been walking for a while now. There’s a bench over there - you can rest if you need to.” 
“No, it’s okay,” you assured with a tired smile. “I can make it to one of the lounge chairs. I’ll set up there to rest.” 
“If you’re sure.” As you began to walk again, Jack remained beside you. “I’ll walk with you, just in case. I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself.”
“Geez, just carry them at this rate.” You glanced over to Ace, who just finished rolling his eyes. “What’re you, some wolf in shining armor?” 
“Lay off, Ace,” Jack grumbled with an eyeroll of his own. 
“Your attitude towards such chivalry shows just how less of a gentleman you are, Ace.” Sebek appeared from behind the redhead, a smug smile upon his face as he peered down at the boy. “Not to mention your maturity.” 
“And what do you know, Mr. Loudmouth, Killer of Eardrums?” To anticipate a fight between the two this early wouldn’t be so brash, you thought. You watched Ace develop a smirk of his own as he eyed Sebek’s own board. “Why do you have a board, anyway? Don’t tell me you’re going to try and surf?” 
Sebek scoffed. “I’ll have you know that I have ‘surfed’ many times in my life - since I was a boy, in fact!” 
“Oh really?” Ace challenged. “What did you do, huh? Use one of those baby paddle boards to float down a stream?” 
“No.” That arrogance came back full force as Sebek puffed out his chest. “Master Lilia escorted Silver and I to Briar Valley’s coast multiple times a year. Not only would he have us swim against the most violent of currents, but also taught us how to balance above them on wooden boards. Why, I recall many times where we would engage in combat atop those rickety wooden planks! Not every trip was met with calm weather, either.”
“That must have been really hard to do,” you commented. 
“Indeed, but it was worth the effort.” Sebek almost resembled a little boy that had just been praised for a job well done. “Thanks to Master Lilia, I am stronger than any mere human.” 
“Even with the hardship, it must have been nice to spend time with him and Silver like that.” You wondered if Malleus ever went with them on those trips. “The view from the coastline must have been beautiful.” 
“I’m afraid I scarcely recall,” Sebek admitted with a sigh. He looked out towards the waves you approached. “We often took up such training at night to better our senses; I only gazed upon the morning light briefly before we departed.” 
Oh.
“Would you like to set up here?” Jack asked, interrupting your thoughts that tried to fathom just what Lilia put Sebek and Silver through. You answered with a small ‘hm?’ before you looked down at the wooden lounge chair beside you. Oh, you were here already. “Or do you want one of the others?”
“This one will be fine.” You smiled up at Jack, now more awake then you’d been before. “Thank you - I might’ve passed it if you hadn’t pointed it out.” 
“No problem.” Jack wore a small smile as he adjusted the surfboard under his arm. “I’ll be out there with the guys. If you need anything, just call.”
“I’m sure I won’t need anything,” you assured, “but thank you!” 
Jack gave a nod as his reply before he turned around and jogged over to another wooden chaise. He placed his towel and bag down neatly, along with his shoes and necklace, before he made his way out to the sea. If you squint, you could make out the figure of Jamil already there, sitting on his board as he waited for a good wave. You never knew he was into surfing…honestly, that went for most of the people present. You were a little less nervous about Sebek going out now, but Ace? Yeah, that was a wipeout waiting to happen - more than one. If Epel had joined you instead of sleeping in, you’d be making bets on how many times Ace would fall off his board. 
When the three finally joined Jamil out in the water (he’d specifically stated he would not be responsible for any injury they sustained), you busied yourself with setting up your spot on the beach. Unintentionally or no, Jack actually led you to the perfect spot. The sun was not in your direct line of vision (not yet, at least), the chair was located at the perfect middle point between the shore, and it came with its own little table! You would surely have no problem organizing your things this time around. You’d have to thank Jack later. For now though, you simply sat back, relaxed, and let the boys put on a show for you. Hopefully without any injury or squabble in-between. 
***
“Hey hey!” You glanced up at the man who suddenly appeared next to you: Cater. He was dressed in his usual beach ensemble, large bag in hand; in addition to that, Cater had a surfboard under his arm. Cater must have seen you eye it, for he said, “I heard there would be some great waves out this morning! I thought I’d come out and catch a few.” 
“I didn’t know you surfed.” You wondered just how many hidden talents your classmates were hiding. 
“Mmn, a few times, yeah,” Cater affirmed. “Wouldn’t call myself an expert, but hey!” He pointed out to the water - you could see another large wave coming, and the four figures of your friends were readying to meet it. “Looks like I got some boys to give me a few pointers.”
“I’m sure Jack would be happy to give you some advice.” You let out a giggle as, when the wave just began to crest, Ace fell off his board with a yelp - again, for the fourth time that day. “I’m not so sure about the others, though.” 
Cater let out a laugh of his own. “Yeah, Deuce mentioned Ace went out with you three when I passed him in the breakfast hall earlier. Not…the most graceful, is he?” 
“Nope,” you said with a little laugh. 
“Well, hey, gotta start somewhere!” Cater laid his things on the lounge chair next to you. He glanced over his shoulder as he fished a bottle of sunblock out of his bag. “Looks like Sebek’s got it going pretty good! And Jamil - man! Where’d he learn to do tricks like that?!”
You quickly turned your head just in time to see Jamil finish his spin on the board. Though you could barely make it out from the distance, you saw the grin spread across his face. “He’s certainly full of surprises,” you muttered. 
“But you’re right: Jack’s probably my best option.” Cater lifted his heart-shaped sunglasses atop his head to rub some sunscreen on his face. “Nice guy, y’know? Not much of a talker, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders!” Cater sat down on the chair, now facing you. “Jack’s pretty cool, huh?” 
“Yeah, he is.” You spared a glance back at the waves. The big wave was gone, remnants now crashing onto shore. Jack was the closest in your line of vision - enough to make out the way his tail wagged, the way he smiled and threw up his fists in joy as water dripped from his torso. That wide, toothy grin…it was contagious. “He really is…” 
At first, you couldn’t see the sly smile that spread across Cater’s conniving face. He stalled in his application of sun protection as he leaned over on his knees, a little closer to you now as he teased, “Really nice to look at, too, huh?~” 
“Yeah…” Your words came out in a hush, gaze laser focused on Jack. The way his muscles flexed as he splashed some water at Ace, how his ears twitched in amusement as the redhead shot back at him with a splash of his own. Jack was really, really good looking…wait. Suddenly, you snapped out of your thoughts as you registered what Cater just said. To try and save yourself from embarrassment, you added, “H-He’s worked really hard to get where he is with his body! Jack’s really proud of himself.” 
“You know that’s not what I meant.” Cater’s green orbs glinted with mischief - he could put Leona to shame with that look. “And you know that I know what you meant.” 
“I, uh, I-” 
Cater let out another laugh. “Look at you! All cute and stuttering - no wonder he thinks you’re adorable!” 
“W-Who thinks I’m adorable?” you asked, trying to ignore the red that slowly crept up your cheeks. 
“Aw, c’mon, [Y/n]!” Cater gave a playful nudge to your shoulder. “You really don’t know who I’m implying?”
You were about to say no…then it hit you. No, no! “Jack?!” Your voice came out louder than you wanted it to. 
“Mmhmm~” Cater cooed. He rested his chin on his palm as he continued with, “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the way he looks at you; he treats you so sweetly, too~” 
“N-No, y-you’re just mistaken!” you protested. “Jack, he…he treats me like everyone else! Like our other friends!” 
“Yeah, okay,” Cater chuckled as he leaned back. He went back to rubbing himself over with sunblock as he said, “I’m sure he also carries bags and other heavy things for Ace and Deuce, too. Even little Epel and big ol’ Sebek. Does he make sure they’re always hydrated, that they’ve eaten? Has he ever carried them when they were tired?” 
“I…” No, no he didn’t, not to your knowledge. You’d seen him do little things to care for his friends, even acquaintances, but…nothing like the things he did for you. You mind searched for an excuse, yet couldn’t find one. You, to Jack, adorable? Cater…he must be teasing! “Wha…what proof do you have anyway?!” 
“He told me,” Cater stated with a shrug. “Don’t think he meant to - just kinda slipped out when he was talking about you with Deuce. I just happened to overhear.” Cater glanced back over at the sea, then let out something between a laugh and a chuckle. “Oopsie! Looks like your little yell got his attention.” 
You followed Cater’s gaze and, sure enough, Jack was staring at you both. His ears were perked up, alert, those keen golden orbs glued onto you. You remembered his words from earlier: ‘If you need anything, just call.’ Oh no… You glimpsed Cater stand up and pick up his board, just as he tossed his sunglasses, shirt, and other accessories onto his seat. 
“Well, I’m off!” Cater waved at you as he turned to tell you goodbye. That cheery expression was briefly interchanged with a devious one as he added, “I’ll send Jackie boy right over~” 
“Cater, no!” But he was already gone, practically skipping over to the shoreline. As his feet touched the water, you heard him call out to Jack - then pointed back in your direction. You didn’t know exactly what he said, but it was enough for Jack to begin wading back to shore with his board. “Dammit, Cater…” you cursed under your breath. You just wanted to bury your head in the sand…
In no time, the beastman was at your side. Water droplets dripped down his skin and fell to the sand, right along with the ones that dropped from his surfboard. His fingers brushed hair away from his face as he spoke, “What’s wrong? Cater said you needed something.” 
“Did he now?” You glared daggers in Cater’s direction for a brief moment. He wasn’t too far from shore yet, so he was able to see your face. The third year simply smiled wide and waved at you. You were going to kill him.
“Yeah,” Jack reaffirmed. He dug the tip of his surfboard into the sand to balance it better under his forearm. “Did you not bring anything to drink? I’ve got some water in my bag, you’re welcome to it.” 
“N-No, I have my water bottle here.” You held up the thick bottle of [favorite color] hard plastic up for him to see. You forced a smile and commented, “That was some great surfing out there!” 
“Thanks!” The large grin that spread across his face was a bit uncharacteristic for his usual stoic demeanor, but it was…cute, you thought. “I think I’ve gotten better than I was last year. All that practice over the summer did me good!” That grin faded to a smile as he asked again, “So, what was it you needed?” 
“Um…” Well, he was here - Cater was so nice to direct him to you. Might as well bite the bullet. “Cater mentioned something you called me a while ago, and I was wanting to know if it was true.” 
“Hm?” That smile was gone in an instant as Jack feared the worst. “Was it something bad? If it is, I didn’t say it. If I had a problem with you, I’d say it to your face; I’m no coward.” 
“I know you’re not,” you reassured. “And it wasn’t anything bad! It just…well, it surprised me.” Jack looked at you expectantly - here goes nothing. “Cater said he overheard you tell Deuce I was adorable.” 
Those big wolf ears quickly flattened against his head, expression one of shock. He was clearly flustered, that was for sure; Jack was so taken aback he nearly dropped his board! Either Cater just told you a blatant lie to rile you up (which you’d definitely kill him for), he misheard Deuce and Jack’s conversation, or…It was your turn to wait in anticipation for Jack’s answer. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, eyes glued to you. Then, in the next, he looked anywhere but you. Finally, after a long pause, lost in his own head, Jack rubbed the back of his neck, eyes glued to the sand below. 
A clear sign he was embarrassed - shy, even. 
“Uh…y-yeah, I did.” 
The air was knocked from your lungs. For a few seconds, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. When your brain fog cleared, only one thought was there to greet you: Jack thought you were adorable. “R…Really?” you muttered, eyes as wide as saucers.
“Mmph.” You supposed that noise meant ‘yes’. Now it was time for your heart to rattle in your chest. That fluttering increased as Jack went on. “I…I didn’t wanna tell you, not till later. I just didn’t think it was the right time. I talked to Deuce about it; I guess that’s when Cater-senpai heard me say it.” 
You simply nodded your head in reply. Your hands gripped the wood of the chair, as if for dear life. 
“Well…I’ve got no excuse now.” Jack’s hand fell to his side, posture straightened again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; after five seconds, he released it in one long exhale before opening his eyes again. When they did, they looked directly into your own. “Can I take you out to dinner?” 
Your mouth felt as though it were full of cotton. Blood pumped in your ears, nearly overpowering the sound of crashing waves - and of a certain someone wiping out once again. You paid no mind to the three different laughs that followed. Really, you had no idea how to reply, what to say. Jack Howl, your friend, was asking you on a date. You promised yourself you wouldn’t catch feelings for him; when they began to surface, you pushed them way down into the confines of your soul. You didn’t want to ruin things…apparently those fears were for naught. 
“W-We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” It was so odd to hear Jack stutter, nervous and unsure of himself. “There’s no pressure - you don’t even have to give me an answer. I know this is all sudden, and I-”
“I’d love to.” The words left your lips before you could even think. It was instinct, you guessed. Jack seemed to jolt at your reply, ears once again pointing straight up at the sky. It was cute…you finally let yourself smile as wide as your cheeks would allow. “Nothing would make me happier, Jack.” 
For another moment, there was silence between you. Then, slowly, Jack’s tail began to wag. It gained speed more and more until it was almost hard to make out. You wondered if Jack even noticed - likely not for the way he almost seemed to beam. “You would?” Those words were nearly a breath, inaudible, but you caught them. You nodded enthusiastically, now grinning. 
Like the one he wore before out in those waves, yours was contagious. You watched that toothy grin slowly reappear as he seemed to let out a breath of relief. “Good…good, that’s good! I-um, sorry, I’m not myself.” On the contrary, you thought Jack was currently more of himself than he let on. For now, though, you let it slide in favor of witnessing this rare slip of composure. Jack tried to regain that tough image of his as he took another quick deep breath, the exhale much quicker. He no longer grinned, but his smile showed all the confidence in the world. 
“When would you like to go out?” he asked. 
“Would tonight be okay?” you asked in response. 
“Yeah!” Jack nearly resembled an excited puppy. Though his tail no longer wagged at the speed of light, it was still pretty fast. “Is it alright if I pick you up at six?” 
“That sounds wonderful.” You could feel yourself slowly begin to melt under his golden gaze - which you could now only describe as loving. “I’ll get someone to watch Grim while I’m gone.” Your smile must have sent Jack’s heart into flips for the way his cheeks turned pink. It looked pretty against his tan skin. “I can’t wait for tonight.” 
“Me too…” He simply looked down at you for a moment, as though the world had just fallen into place before him. Then, he recomposed himself once more and said, “Oh, and don’t worry about dressing up or anything! I know a place we can go. It’s not too fancy - I think you’ll like it.”
“You always know what I like,” you chuckled. 
“I like to…” Jack trailed off once again; you wondered if he could ever get tired of staring at you. It didn’t seem like he would…come to think of it, he’d looked at you that way before. Many times before, actually, for the past several months. Was that…was that what Cater meant earlier? You understood now…it was nice. 
“Well, what do we have here?” 
The both of you jumped at the sudden voice behind you. The two of you whipped your heads around to look at the source: Vil. Rook was beside him, in his arms two large bags, over his shoulder an even larger umbrella and a pair of long, fluffy towels. Both smirked from ear to ear as they eyed you both: they knew. You knew they knew from the glint in their eyes, the same as Cater’s before (eesh, Leona had nothing on them). How many people knew? Was it that obvious?! 
“Don’t mind us,” Vil said with a wave of his hand. He walked past your chair with Rook in tow, though he glanced over his shoulder as he pulled down his expensive shades enough to reveal those lavender, knowing eyes. “We won’t intervene. Certainly don’t stop on our account~” 
With that, the two walked away without another word. Jack seemed to shrink on the spot, clearly mortified. You followed along with him as you practically curled up in your chair, knees tucked under your chin and hot face pressed into the crevice between. You groaned to yourself - so embarrassing! Then you heard something shuffle next to you. When you peeked out from your knees, all you saw was Jack. His fingers came to brush a strand of hair away from your cheek; you practically shivered at his soft touch. 
“If you’ll wait for me, I’ll walk you back to the hotel later.” 
You wanted to, but… “I-I can’t,” you mumbled, clearly disappointed. “I promised Malleus I would go with him and Lilia out to lunch. I don’t want to cancel at the last minute - and Grim would kill me! I need to get back at least an hour before.” 
Jack made a small noise as he nodded to himself. Instead of dismay, however, he smiled at you again. “That’s okay. You go and have fun, alright?” His knuckle softly grazed your cheek as he retracted his hand. You almost wished he kept it there a bit longer. “I’ll see you tonight then?” 
“Mhm,” you hummed with a shy little smile. “I’ll see you then.” 
For how close he was, you thought Jack might kiss you…but he didn’t. You recalled when he said minutes ago that he thought it wasn’t the right time to ask you out before - was that what he felt now? Maybe. Even so, you hoped it would be soon. You…wanted to. Really bad. He smiled as he departed back for the sea, tail wagging all the way. 
You really tried to ignore the knowing smiles that were sent your way, both from the sea and sand. Cater, Vil, Rook…you really hoped Lilia didn’t know. If he did, it was going to be a very long lunch. You hoped Malleus would be a little better - but for the way you could picture that smirk in your mind, you doubted it. Oh, the things you just did and would do…but you didn’t regret it one bit. 
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djarincore · 4 months
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The Man You Deserve
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summary: Din returns after six months with a big question.
word count: 740
tags: cowboy!au, slight angst. happy ending, suggestive themes, younger Din, gn!reader
a/n: part of my 500 words a day series. the letter is c for cowboy!
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“You here to rob me, Djarin?” You drawled, after peeking an eye open to spot the man blocking your sunlight. You were sitting, lounging against a tree, attempting to take a break from your farm work.  
His worn, leather cattleman shaded his amused expression. Once upon a time, your cheeks would have burned seeing his sweet brown eyes gazing at you, but you were long past those feelings—that was what you told yourself despite the stutter in your chest at the sight of him again. It had been six months and twelve days since you last saw his face—not that you were counting.
“Nope,” he said, easing down beside you with a content sigh and leaning against the tree. His arm brushed yours and you could feel the goosebumps start to rise along with your heart rate. 
Curse your damn feelings.
You crossed your arms, pulling yourself further away from him, and buried your feelings beneath muttered words, “They got a bounty on your head ‘round here. What’re you doing back?” 
“Wanted to come and see my favorite person,” he teased. 
“What part of ‘I never want to see you again’ do you not understand?” You grumbled. You thought your last exchange would be the end of everything. It was heated—tense, angry words were thrown back and forth. Even though the fight ended with the two of you in bed together, he was gone the next morning. 
He shrugged. “Thought you were jokin’.”  
You gritted your teeth and stood, trembling with anger. You hated the carefree smile he plastered onto his face all the time; you wished he would just be serious for once. “You’re a damn bastard, you know that? You don’t get to just show up whenever it pleases you.” 
That was the main reason you fought with him that night. He drifted in and out of your life as he pleased; he rode around with his stupid gang of outlaws and never gave a damn about how much you worried over him when he came back with more scars he wouldn’t talk about. You were tired of waiting for him; you wanted to settle down and start a family.   
“I don’t mean to upset you,” he said and rose slowly as if not to spook a horse. 
“Then don’t come back here again, Din.” Your traitorous voice began to waver as tears filled your eyes. 
His smile finally disappeared as he moved to cradle your cheek. “Come on, now.” He swiped away a stray tear that rolled down your cheek with his thumb. “I swear, I didn’t mean to make you cry by comin’ back here. I just needed to ask you somethin’.” 
“I’m not going with you.”
There was only one question he ever asked and it was never the one you wanted to hear—will you come with me? Your answer was always the same; you had a job on the farm and a sick mother to take care of, more responsibilities than he seemed to understand. 
He shook his head, an uncharacteristically nervous smile slowly pulling at his lips, and released you. “No, that’s not what I was gonna ask.” 
“Then, what is it?” You sighed, soaking up the rest of your tears with your shirt. 
He fished for something in his satchel and pulled something out with his fist wrapped around it. “Now,” he started, “I know you didn’t want me comin’ back and I tried to stay away, but I just couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you, wonderin’ if you got someone new.”     
He unfurled his fist and revealed a shining silver ring. 
Part of you almost didn’t want to believe what you were looking at. “Did you steal this?” You blurted out.
“Huh? N-No, I saved up some money—honest money—and bought it. I came back to ask you to marry me.” 
Before your head could get lost in the cloud of excitement and bliss, you reminded yourself of reality. “But, you have a bounty out for you.”
“I paid it off, starting today I’m a good, honest man—the kind you deserve,” he said proudly.   
You felt tears beginning to well up in your eyes again. This time it wasn’t from heartache. You brushed your finger over the rim of the band and nodded, too overwhelmed to speak again. 
He swept you into his arms. “I promise I won’t let you down again.” 
“I know you won’t.”
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fanficapologist · 14 hours
Text
Of Dragons and Maelstroms: Aemond POV
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Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
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Chapter Eight
“You do not know what you are asking for, but make no mistake, you are asking a great deal.”
Aemond found himself back at Harrenhal mere hours after the ball had ended, seeking solace away from the hustle and bustle of the Red Keep. As the first rays of light filtered through the window, they flickered off his sharp features, casting shadows across his furrowed brow as he leaned his head against his arm, his silver hair falling forward.
In the quiet of the room, Aemond felt the weight of desperation pressing down on him. Time was running out, and with Maera's reputation restored and the allure of the Master of Coin's dowry drawing every nobleman to her side, the Prince knew he needed to act swiftly. He couldn't afford to lose her to another suitor if he was to secure his great destiny.
Alys's penchant for speaking in riddles only served to exacerbate Aemond's frustration. Despite her purported great powers, he found her presence irksome. Her dull, long dark hair and cat-like green eyes got on his nerves, as did the enigmatic smile she always seemed to wear. The fact that he was entertaining these fantastical notions of magic and prophecy grated against his sense of logic and reason. Yet, the overwhelming desire to claim Maera for himself had clouded any semblance of judgment he had left.
"A daughter of a minor House will never be betrothed to a prince, especially during times of war when marriages are needed to secure allies," the Prince proclaimed with an edge of exasperation as he rose from his seat, his movements agitated as he inspected Alys's array of trinkets on the nearby table. “She needs to have something of use to the crown.”
Turning to face the witch, who lounged in her chair beside the hearth, Aemond's gaze bore into hers with intensity. "I don't care how you do it but find a way," he commanded, the tension in the room thickening with each passing moment.
Alys furrowed her brow, her green eyes meeting Aemond's with a piercing intensity. After a moment of contemplation, she broke the silence. "She has an aunt, does she not? In Morne?"
Aemond nodded curtly, acknowledging the mention of Maera's maternal aunt. "Her mother's twin, married to Lord Byron of the Fortress of Fog," he confirmed, his tone clipped with anticipation.
"Lord Byron controls quite a fleet," Alys continued, her voice taking on a thoughtful tone as she retrieved a scroll from her shelves and unfurled it to reveal a world map, laying it on the table beside the Prince. "And while the Lannister fleet is strong, the fleet of Morne possesses superior knowledge of the East Waters, akin to the Velaryon fleet."
The Prince shook his head in disbelief, a furrow deepening on his brow. “Lord and Lady Morne have children. The fortress and the fleet would pass to them,” he stated firmly, his voice edged with incredulity at the suggestion.
Alys merely shrugged in response, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Not if something were to happen to all of them,” she retorted, her tone tinged with an unsettling confidence.
Aemond recoiled slightly, taken aback by the brazenness of her proposal. “You’re talking about erasing an entire House,” he protested, his words heavy with disbelief and moral indignation.
The witch's smile only widened, her gaze unyielding. “I’m talking about securing the fleet to Lady Maera’s dowry in order for her to be your bride,” Alys persisted, her words cutting through the air like a blade. “Or do you not wish the prophecy to come true? For the King of Kings to be born?”
Aemond's eye flashed with frustration and anger, his jaw tensing as he struggled to contain his emotions. “I know, witch!” he snapped, his voice sharp with irritation. He turned away from her, his gaze darting around the room as he grappled with the weight of Alys's proposition. “She will never forgive me. Lady Viserra is the last connection to her mother. She writes to her.”
Alys remained unmoved, her demeanor devoid of any semblance of empathy or remorse. "Her heartache will pass," she declared coldly, her words ringing out with a callous certainty that left Aemond feeling unsettled and conflicted. “You will be King. And she will be your Queen,” the witch reminded him. “Through the binding of a son and daughter the King of Kings will be born, to unite and conquer the world.”
His jaw tensed as he contemplated the ramifications of Alys's plan. While Aemond didn't care about wiping out an entire House, he couldn't ignore the fact that the news would devastate Maera. He remembered her speaking fondly of her Aunt Viserra, the twin of her late mother. Losing her mother at such a young age had already inflicted enough pain on Maera, and the thought of causing her more suffering didn't sit well with him.
However, Aemond couldn't deny the strategic advantage their deaths could bring. Maera would inherit the fleet, a valuable asset for the war effort. This would give Aemond a reason to marry her, fulfilling the prophecy and potentially bringing forth the King of Kings. It was a tough decision. But Aemond also thought about all the years Maera had not been in his life, all the dark and twisted turns fate had led him down. He could not lose her again.
“Just see it done,” Aemond relented through gritted teeth, his frustration evident in the tense set of his jaw and the furrow of his brow.
The witch grinned wickedly, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “I will need something from you. After all, the Gods need payment for granting you this path.”
“Fine,” Aemond said tersely, dismissing her request with a wave of his hand. “More hair, more blood, whatever, just take it.”
But Alys shook her head slowly, a coy smile playing on her lips. “No, my Prince,” she replied, her voice taking on a sultry tone that sent a shiver down Aemond’s spine. “I need something much, much more valuable.”
As she attempted to brush her finger across his jawline, Aemond reacted instinctively, seizing her wrist firmly to halt the contact. His grip was firm, his violet eye flashing with a mixture of anger and suspicion as he stared into her emerald gaze. “The bloodline will come from your seed, my Prince,” she continued, undeterred by his reaction. “Therefore, that is where we must start. We must join together physically, to enable old magic and the blood of old Valyria to bind together as one.”
Aemond’s grip tightened further, his nails digging into her flesh as he struggled to contain his fury. “You expect me to lie with you?” he spat, his voice laced with contempt. “A witch, a whore?” With a forceful push, he shoved her hand away from him, his gaze burning with indignation and disgust. He could not believe she had the sheer audacity to ask this of him.
Stooping so low to sleep with a whore was one thing, but the potential consequences of this was an entirely different matter- children. Illegitimate children. Bastards. Aemond thought back to all the times his mother received news that another silver-haired babe had been born in a brothel in Flea Bottom. The shame and disappointment that would cloud Queen Alicent’s face was a horrendous sight to behold. There was no way Aemond could let that happen.
And then there was Maera, the woman he would be doing this for. If a child was born from lying with the witch, there would be a high possibility she would never know. However the thought of that ate away at his soul. It would be the ultimate blow to her. To kill her family in order to secure him to his side, and bring a bastard into the world through doing so?
"I will have no bastards running around the Riverlands," Aemond spat, his words laced with venom as he glared at the witch.
Alys met his gaze with equal fervor, her expression hardening as she retorted, "I can have no more children. My last birth damaged my womb, nothing can grow there."
Aemond's resolve remained unshaken, his tone resolute as he declared, "I am not risking it. The answer is no."
Turning away, he moved toward the chair where he had been seated moments before, intent on gathering his belongings and leaving. But Alys's voice cut through the silence, her words dripping with malice. "Very well. I am sure Lady Maera will make a gracious wife to Lord Warren Tully. If he is named Lord Grover’s heir, she will be the Lady of Riverrun. And she will give him many children."
Aemond froze mid-step, his muscles tensing as he processed her words. Memories of the harvest moon ball flooded his mind—the way Maera and Lord Warren exchanged smiles, the subtle blush on her cheeks, the intensity in the Lord’s gaze when he spoke to her. Despite the pain it caused him to even consider Alys’s proposal, the thought of Maera in the arms of another man felt like a stab to Aemond’s stomach.
A cold fury boiled within him as Alys continued to taunt him, her voice like a dagger twisting in his gut. "Then you can return to being the second son, the loyal lapdog of your brother, carrying out his duties with no thanks or rewards to show for it."
Unable to contain his rage any longer, Aemond stormed back across the room, his movements swift and purposeful as he seized Alys by the throat, his grip firm and unyielding. Despite Aemond's firm grip around her throat, Alys remained composed, her defiance unyielding as she continued to provoke him. "You are angry because I speak the truth. It is a hard thing to swallow, isn't it? Reality?"
Aemond's silence only seemed to fuel Alys's audacity, her taunts cutting through the air even as his fingers tightened around her neck. But she met his gaze with a steady smile, undeterred by his fury. "Your time is running out. This is your last chance."
The Prince hesitated, biting his bottom lip in contemplation. Despite his disgust at the idea of sleeping with her, he couldn't deny the power of her foresight. It was thanks to her abilities that Maera's reputation had been restored. Yet the urgency made him feel that he was being backed into a corner, like a trapped animal. He despised the idea of succumbing to Alys's demands, but he couldn't shake the allure of what her plan could offer—a marriage that would lead to glory, perhaps even happiness.
With a dark glower, Aemond released his grip, his expression a storm of conflicting emotions as he grudgingly acquiesced. "Let's get it over with."
He made his way over to Alys's small bed in the corner of the room, feeling the contrast with his own grander accommodations in the Red Keep. As he lay back, Alys climbed atop his lap, straddling him as her hands moving to unbutton his doublet, a sly smile on her face. With a scoff, Aemond shoved her back, refusing to let her touch him more than necessary. He felt a surge of revulsion at the thought of being intimate with her. This was a means to an end and he would not bear himself before her.
Instead he slid his hand down to his dark trousers and unlaced them, releasing his cock and began pumping it quickly to make it hard. His gaze flicked up momentarily to Alys, who watched him with bated breath. The look on her face caused him to recoil, and he tore his gaze away from her, focusing on a distant point in the room. After a moment he looked down, to see that his body had reacted to the stimulation before his head hit the pillow in defeat.
The Prince could hear the rustling of Alys's skirts, and feel the warmth of her hovering about him had him desperately trying to find a way to occupy his mind, focusing on anything but the situation he found himself in. Yet as he felt her move his cock and her slowly slide down on it with a groan, he froze. It was all too similar to his first night in the brothel with Aegon. The seedy atmosphere, the unfamiliar room, the feeling of being trapped underneath someone. It was too much to bear.
He steadied his breathing, knowing if the task was to be completed, for the spell to be cast, he needed to focus. Alys’s gasps filled the air, yet the sound transported him somewhere more pleasant. Aemond vividly pictured Maera's ferocity with the sword, her determined expression, and the intensity of her breath as she faced him in the courtyard for the first time a few moons ago.
He recalled the moment he had pinned her beneath him, forcing her to yield. The flush on her face and the glistening beads of sweat on her forehead were captivating. He remembered how he had sliced her tunic, revealing more of the expanse of her chest, a sight that had stirred something within him.
And then, he remembered the cut he had inflicted upon her, just above her left breast. The image of the blood staining her turquoise tunic and running gracefully across her pale skin remained etched in his memory. Gods, if it had not been for the crowd of onlookers, he would have bent down and ran his tongue across her soft skin, tasting the coppery red liquid with glee. To see her completely submitted to him in that moment stirred something primal within him, and it was a sight he wanted to behold every day until the end of his days.
With a quiet groan, Aemond released his seed, Alys continuing to rock against him until he was completely spent. Once it was done, he shoved Alys aside and rose abruptly from the bed, his demeanor cold and distant as he stuffed his cock back into his trousers and began gathering his belongings.
"You are leaving?" Alys inquired, her tone tinged with curiosity, and slight hurt.
Aemond shot her a disdainful glance, his lip curling in a sneer. "Well, I certainly would not stay," he retorted, his voice dripping with contempt. "I need to bathe before I return to my duties."
As he made his way to the door, Aemond paused, casting one final glance back at Alys sitting on the bed. "This was disgusting and it will never happen again," he spat, his words laden with bitterness. "And you better pray that it will work. My patience has reached its limit." With that, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
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After a number of days of attending to duties on his idiot older brother’s behalf, Aemond soared through the sky on the back of Vhagar towards Kings Landing, the setting sun painted the horizon in hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the landscape below. Despite the beauty of the scenery, Aemond's thoughts were consumed by the disturbing memory of his encounter with Alys.
The image of Alys climbing atop him, her touch repulsive and unwelcome, made his stomach churn with disgust. He felt a profound sense of regret and shame for allowing himself to be manipulated into such a degrading act. Even as the wind whipped through his hair and the rhythmic beating of Vhagar's wings filled the air, Aemond's thoughts remained troubled. He couldn't rid himself of the unease that lingered, casting a pall over what should have been a serene flight home.
When the dragon began her descent, Aemond's keen eye caught sight of a vivid splash of turquoise atop the sand dunes below. His heart quickened as he recognized the color, knowing it belonged to Maera's distinctive attire. However, his excitement turned to a bitter taste in his mouth as he saw her accompanied by a man, their figures silhouetted against the setting sun. Fuelled by a mixture of curiosity and a rising tide of jealousy, Aemond commanded Vhagar to land behind a cliffside, seeking a vantage point from which he could observe discreetly.
With a powerful beat of her wings, Vhagar gracefully descended, her massive form casting a shadow over the rugged terrain below. As her claws touched down on the sandy ground, Aemond dismounted, his mind racing with questions and uncertainty. As the Prince ducked down towards the ground on his approach, his determination to observe without being seen intensified. The sound of Maera's lively chatter reached his ears, carried by the gentle sea breeze, stirring up conflicting emotions within him.
Peering up, Aemond's gaze fell upon the man accompanying Maera, and a surge of anger coursed through him. It appeared the wretched Tully cunt had used Aemond’s absence to sink his claws even further into Maera, demonstrated by their apparent courting on the shoreline, chaperoned by her newly appointed supposed protector. The sight of them together fueled Aemond's frustration, and he could no longer stand idly by. With a determined stride, he made his way towards them, his anger barely concealed beneath his stoic facade. His tense jaw and piercing stare locked onto Maera's, betraying the tumult of emotions raging within him.
The Lord and Lady stood to acknowledge Aemond's presence, and the Prince couldn't help but notice the irked expressions on their faces. Ignoring the tension, Aemond enjoyed the momentary satisfaction of seeing Lord Warren bow respectfully and Lady Maera curtsy, and decided to play along with the ridiculous charade for a moment.
"It is a beautiful evening to be walking by the sea,” the Prince commented, gazing out to the shoreline momentarily before setting his gaze back onto the couple.
"Indeed,” the Tully Lord concurred eagerly. “Though the night is not half as beautiful as Lady Maera."
Each word the trout spoke grated on Aemond, fueling his frustration as he dug his nails into his palm to suppress his rising anger. Seeing Maera's receptiveness to the compliments only intensified his inner turmoil, causing him to grit his teeth in frustration.
As Aemond's frustration mounted, he found himself not only seething at Lord Warren but also at Lady Maera. Why was she so obstinate in resisting the potential fulfillment of their shared destiny? Though she remained unaware of it, Aemond couldn't help but feel that the Gods should be guiding her towards him, not away.
Eager to disrupt this mummers farce unfolding before him, Aemond began sarcastically divulging information about Lord Warren's courtship of other ladies at court. He could not be seen as the valiant attentive lover that he so obviously was not. Lord Warren was a vile little serpent, like every other ridiculous man who appeared at court and wanted to gain power.
Observing Maera's reaction, Aemond noted the fury in her eyes, yet it wasn't directed at Lord Warren as it should have been. Instead, it was aimed squarely at him. Despite her anger being misdirected, Aemond found himself strangely grateful for the intensity of her emotions. Being the recipient of her fury felt like a peculiar blessing, amplifying his resolve to assert his claim over her.
As Lord Warren stepped forward, matching Aemond toe-to-toe, the Prince stifled a laugh. They were of similar height, but Aemond exuded a quiet confidence in his own prowess. Oh, how he longed for Lord Warren to make the first move so he would have an excuse to gut him like the fish he was, right in front of Maera.
However, fate intervened in an unexpected manner. Suddenly, distant shouts pierced the air, drawing everyone's attention. Out of the sky descended the wild dragon, Ēbrion, its deep blue and black scales glinting in the sunlight as it landed on the beach with a resounding thud.
The beast skulked along the sand towards them, its scales gleaming in the fading light, each step seemed to shake the ground beneath their feet. Its massive form cast a daunting shadow over the four figures below, its wings folded against its back, and its orange eyes fixated on them with an unsettling intensity, glinting with a primal intelligence.
Aemond, feeling an innate urge to move, positioned himself in front of Maera, his stance protective and resolute. His muscles tensed, ready to react to any sudden movement from the dragon, his single violet eye narrowed in focus.
Glancing back at Maera, he observed her reaction closely. Her lips were slightly parted in silent awe, her chest rising and falling with each breath, her green eyes fixed on the gigantic beast hovering above them. Despite the looming danger, there was a curious glint in her eyes, a hint of fascination mixed with a steely resolve.
Aemond attempted to command the dragon, his voice firm but futile against the creature's primal instincts, the beast responded with a low, bone-chilling growl. Its massive form remained imposing, its orange eyes burning with a wild intensity, as if challenging any attempts to control it.
Uncertain of what would happen next, Aemond felt a sudden movement behind him, the sensation of someone reaching for his belt. Whipping around, he saw Maera standing there, a dagger in her hand, her gaze fixed on the dragon with an unexpected calmness. It was a sight that left Aemond, along with Lord Warren and Ser Arryk, utterly astounded.
Maera's demeanor was strikingly composed as she gently shushed the dragon, as one would soothe a restless child. Her actions defied logic and expectation, yet there was an undeniable air of authority in her presence, a quiet confidence that seemed to resonate with the beast. As Aemond watched in awe and admiration, Maera took the dagger to her palm, slicing through it with a swift motion. Blood began to drip onto the sand below, and despite her wince of pain, she remained resolute.
Stepping in front of the Prince, Maera presented her palm to the dragon, her expression determined yet strangely serene. Aemond held his breath, his gaze fixed on the unfolding scene, his heart pounding in his chest. Studying the dragon's response intently, Aemond noted the subtle changes in its demeanor. The beast's pupils dilated, and its tense muscles seemed to relax ever so slightly in response to Maera's soothing efforts.
Ēbrion slowly leaned forward, bridging the gap between them, Aemond watched in amazement as Maera reached out to touch its snout. The dragon seemed to inhale deeply, its nostrils flaring as it took in the scent of her blood. Despite the inherent danger, there was an undeniable sense of trust in the air.
Aemond couldn't help but release a shocked laugh, a mixture of disbelief and awe. His understanding of dragon body language, honed from years of experience with Vhagar and extensive research, confirmed what he was witnessing. The blue dragon was accepting Maera's presence, calmed by her command in a way that was truly extraordinary.
As the beast seemed content and began to depart, his massive form turning gradually, Aemond couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. The tension in the air began to dissipate as the dragon made his way back towards his cave lair, leaving them behind on the beach.
However, Aemond's attention quickly shifted when he heard Maera let out a shaky exhale. He turned to see her momentarily losing her balance, causing her to step backward. Acting on instinct, Aemond reached out and caught her, his hands gripping her upper arms firmly. In that moment, he offered her support after the harrowing encounter, silently reassuring her with his presence.
She had a faced a dragon head on, yet Ser Arryk and Lord Warren hovered around Maera, fussing over her like she was a fragile creature, causing Aemond to roll his eye in annoyance. The sight of them coddling her as if she couldn't handle herself grated on his nerves. It was ridiculous. Despite the commotion, Maera let out a shaky laugh, her emotions still raw from the encounter with the dragon. Aemond couldn't help but admire her resilience, even in the face of such danger.
Growing tired of Lord Warren’s familiarity with Maera as he cupped her face, Aemond forcefully shoved him aside and stepped closer to her. With a soft touch, he tilted Maera's chin up to inspect her face, concern evident in his one good eye.
After a moment more of shaky laughter, Maera synchronized her breathing with Aemond's, a gesture that helped to calm her nerves. As they settled into a shared rhythm, Aemond couldn't help but feel a sense of connection with her, as if they were in sync not just in their breathing, but in their understanding of each other.
Lost in the depths of her forest green eyes, Aemond felt a silent understanding pass between them. It was an unspoken bond that seemed to transcend words, a connection that he couldn't deny. In that moment, with his finger lingering beneath her chin, Aemond felt as though the Gods were with him, guiding them both towards a path they were meant to follow.
"She's just a bit shaken, but she'll be fine,” the Prince assured the knight and lord.
Lord Warren, however, was far from pleased. His anger flared, and he retorted sharply, emphasizing Maera's wounded hand. "She has a gaping wound on her hand; she needs the Maester to look at it." His words were laced with frustration.
Aemond, his patience wearing thin, responded with equal vehemence. "Maera is tougher than she looks, and she doesn't need a mere trout like you to protect her," he spat out, the tension between the two men palpable, their gazes locked in a silent battle. But Maera intervened, her voice steady as she insisted that Aemond was correct. It was merely shock, and she was fine. She expressed her desire to continue her walk with Lord Warren, her words serving as a diplomatic bridge between the two proud men.
Aemond, in response, repeated the phrase he had spoken to Maera at the ball, coveting it in High Valyrian so Lord Warren could not understand; "Se zaldrīzes se klios gaomagon daor rholagon.” The fish and the dragon do not mix
With a stoic face, Aemond accepted Maera's request for him to leave, acknowledging silently that he had achieved his goal of disrupting her time with Lord Warren, and that was enough satisfaction for him. With a curt nod, he bid them farewell and turned to walk away.
However, as he strolled away, an inexplicable feeling urged him to linger for a moment longer, to observe the couple from a distance. Aemond made his way towards the dragon keepers, using the opportunity to scold them for their lack of control over the massive blue dragon. Yet even as he chastised them, his lilac eye remained fixed on Maera and Lord Warren in the distance, unable to shake off the curiosity and concern that gnawed at him.
The Prince watched as Maera glanced in his direction while Lord Warren conversed with her, a smirk playing on his lips, knowing he had captured her attention. Yet his satisfaction was short-lived as his expression twisted from gleeful to enraged. Maera extended her hand to cup Lord Warren's face, muttering words before boldly pressing a kiss to his lips. Aemond seethed with fury, his fists clenched at his sides as he stormed away from the dragon keepers who were still talking to him.
With swift, purposeful strides, he marched along the beach towards the Red Keep, the sand crunching beneath his boots as his mind raced. He was done being tested by the Gods, by the witch, by Maera, by everybody. It was time for Aemond to once again seize control of his destiny. And the first step would be getting rid of the trout. He needed to go.
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Night descended upon the Red Keep, the torches lining the corridors flickering to life, casting dancing shadows that seemed to stretch and sway with the gentle drafts of air. The once bustling halls now grew quiet, the echoes of footsteps fading into the background as the inhabitants of the castle retired to their chambers. In the depths of the Keep, where the shadows clung eagerly to the stone walls, the darkness seemed to deepen. The torchlight struggled to penetrate the gloom, casting eerie silhouettes that lurked in every corner and crevice.
Alone in an alcove, Aemond sat with his back against the cold stone, his fingers absently tracing the intricate patterns of his dagger's hilt. The soft glow of torchlight barely reached him, leaving him enveloped in a cocoon of darkness as he grappled with the tumultuous thoughts swirling in his mind.
The Prince’s one-eyed gaze flicked up as he heard the telltale sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor. His jaw clenched instinctively, anticipating the source of the intrusion. As Lord Warren's figure came into view, striding purposefully down the corridor, Aemond's lip curled with disdain. The ridiculous smile adorning Lord Warren's face only served to deepen Aemond's irritation, his grip tightening on the hilt of his dagger as he realised the Lord was making his way to the Master of Laws’ chambers.
In the dimly lit corridor, Aemond emerged from the shadows, his voice carrying a casual yet pointed tone. "A little late for political visits, do not think, my Lord?"
Lord Warren, with a hint of exasperation, turned to face him, plastering a forced smile on his face. "With a matter such as this, my Prince, I do not think it can wait."
Aemond took a deliberate step closer, his gaze unwavering as he pressed further. "And what matter would that be, hmm?"
Lord Warren chuckled softly, his expression shifting to one of sincerity. "Speaking with her at the ball piqued my interest," he began, his smile growing warmer. "Spending time with her this evening has only made me more sure."
As Lord Warren bid the Prince a respectful nod and made to depart, Aemond halted him with another question, his tone laced with skepticism. "You think yourself worthy of her hand?"
The Tully Lord pivoted back around, meeting Aemond's gaze with a confident demeanor. "Do you, my Prince?" he countered, closing the distance between them until they stood face to face. His smile took on a sly edge. "I only ask because you seem very interested in her."
The Prince’s lips curled into a knowing smile, a facade concealing his true intentions. He refused to give the satisfaction of confirming such a notion to someone so beneath him. The dragon need not concern himself with a the opinion of a mere trout.
“You wish to be Lord of Riverrun, do you not?”
The Tully Lord furrowed his brow, silent for a moment before stating, “I only wish-“
“Spare me,” Aemond waved his hand dismissively, cutting through the man’s excuses like a sword through parchment. He had no interest in hearing platitudes about family, duty or honour; in Aemond’s view, all men of the court were nothing but power-hungry leeches, and Lord Warren was no exception.
During his two weeks away from King's Landing, Aemond was diligent in attending to his duties. Despite the regrettable encounter with Alys, he remained focused on the matters at hand, which were a welcome distraction. At Harrenhal, Aemond had established a miniature council of nobles to assist him in overseeing the war effort. This council served to keep him informed on war plans and to delegate tasks effectively.
Among its members were the sharp Lord Peake, the elderly Lord Vance, and the skeptical Lord Butterwell. It was Lord Butterwell who had just provided Aemond with an important update in regards to House Tully, an update that the Prince could use in this moment.
"I have information to secure Riverrun for you. Information about your cousins and their whereabouts," Aemond declared confidently, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
Lord Warren responded with a skeptical smile and a disbelieving laugh. "You do not," he countered, his tone tinged with doubt.
Aemond tilted his head, his gaze steady and unwavering. "You find that so hard to believe?" he questioned. When Lord Warren offered no immediate response, Aemond pressed on. "The crown is at war. We receive information about our enemies much quicker than you do."
There was a brief moment of hesitation in Lord Warren's expression, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. After a beat, he relented. "What do you know?" he asked, his voice betraying a hint of curiosity.
Aemond's smile widened, sensing his advantage. With a mockingly playful gesture, he wagged his finger in the air. "Ah-ah. On one condition," he declared, his tone laced with cunning. Lord Warren furrowed his brow, awaiting the stipulation. Aemond's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he delivered his ultimatum. "Abandon these notions of proposal to Lady Maera. And swear by the Seven that you will leave at first light."
Lord Warren's gaze flickered between the corridor leading to the Master of Laws' room and the path back to his own quarters, as if weighing the potential outcomes of his decisions. A sense of conflict danced across his features, mirrored by the uncertainty in his eyes.
"You want her for yourself," Lord Warren accused, his tone edged with defiance, as he turned his attention back to Aemond.
Aemond responded with a dismissive roll of his eye. "Do we have an understanding, my Lord?" he pressed, his voice firm and resolute.
Lord Warren held Aemond's lilac gaze with his own blue eyes, a silent battle of wills passing between them. After a moment of tense deliberation, the Tully Lord relented, dropping his gaze and nodding in defeat.
"Good," Aemond sneered, a smirk playing at his lips as he cleared his throat. "Your cousins have set up their base near High Heart. There is a weakness of guards on the east side of the camp."
Lord Warren sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his decision, before offering Aemond a respectful nod. With a resigned air, he turned on his heel and began to make his way back to his chambers.
As Lord Warren departed, Aemond couldn't resist one final taunt. "Go now, little trout," he called after him mockingly. "Return home upstream."
With Lord Warren manipulated and Maera's suitors thwarted, Aemond's plan was falling into place. The prophecy was on the verge of realization, and all that remained was to seek the King's approval for a marriage proposal. Maera would soon be his.
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Notes: whoooo this took a while to write. It was hard to write, I feel so sorry for our boy. I feel sorry for Maera. I feel sorry for everyone 🤣
Tags: @0eessirk8 @magicseahorse @blue-serendipity @abecerra611 @saltedcaramelpretzel @marvelescvpe @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek @thelastemzy @kckt88
Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤
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acey-wacey · 1 year
Note
God I couldn't stop laughing when I read the writing about the love triangles, I was wondering if I could ask for a second part but this time. Silver vs Sebek and Trey vs Cater (I love your blog and your work <3) ✍️💗✨💘
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Lovelies, I think we found a new favorite series!
This one's a tad angstier than originally intended 😬 but dw it's just a bit self deprecating on a few accounts.
⚠️TW⚠️ - negative self-talk, mentions of depression/depressive episodes, low-key yandere
...
🗡️ Silver 🗡️
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Vs
🐊 Sebek Zigvolt 🐊
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Tbh, it's not much of a rivalry.
They both respect each other as fellow knights and Diasomnia dorm members.
Of course that doesn't stop Sebek from being the slightest bit jealous when he sees how you let Silver rest his head on your lap.
Both were rather clueless to each other's feelings, as well as their own.
Lilia had to be the one to point it out that either even liked you in the first place.
Sebek was infuriated upon discovering that he had feelings for a human.
It's fine for Silver to like you since he's a human as well but for the son of an esteemed fae to harbor affections for a human, and a magicless one, no less.
Sebek rejected his feelings no matter how hard it was.
He convinced himself that you would be happier with Silver who would actually be able to love you wholeheartedly, without reservation.
Meanwhile, Silver was just as oblivious to his own feelings, assuming that the warmth in his chest whenever he was around you was just friendship.
When he overheard Lilia gossiping about Sebek's little crush on the human, Silver was dejected but resigned himself, not wanting to admit that he ever felt anything for you besides friendship in the first place.
He loved the relationship you had, where he was comfortable with you and you would never judge him, being endlessly patient with his narcolepsy.
He didn't want to ruin anything so he came to the conclusion that Sebek would be better for you anyway because he could love you without being afraid of losing your friendship.
For a good long while, neither confessed because they decided you were too good for them and would be happier with the other.
Like I said, not much rivalry going on, just two boys with inferiority complexes and one (1) friend outside their dorm.
...
🏹 Rook Hunt 🏹
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🍄 Jade Leech 🍄
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BAD IDEA BAD IDEA BAD ID-
Oooh, baby, the tension they radiate is thicker than a cloud of smog and even more stifling for the people around them.
From the moment Rook Hunt heard about the magicless prefect, he was instantly intrigued.
How could a powerless interloper, supposedly from a world without magic, with only their cat and the power of friendship, defeat multiple omnipotent overblots?
Not even the most talented seniors had even fought an overblot and they most likely would have lost.
So what made this odd little human so special?
Ever since he took an interest in you, Rook made an effort to spend as much time as he could by your side or otherwise observing you.
You were a little freaked out by his sudden attention but seeing Rook conspicuously throwing rocks outside your classroom window became part of your daily routine.
For Jade, it wasn't until after Azul's overblot that you caught his attention with the same question as Rook.
What made you so special?
You found yourself with a surplus of Mostro Lounge coupons, a marketing tactic according to Azul, but really, it was just Jade wanting to see you again.
You didn't really notice anything intimidating about the two of them since you were friends, but to everyone else, it became obvious that you were being courted by the two scariest people in the school.
Both of them enjoyed spooking Grim and then threatening him if he ever tells you.
The gossip surrounding you is what tips them off to their rivalry.
Many students are talking about your frightening admirers and how you must be pretty insane to attract them.
When Jade overheard said conversation, he shut the gossipers down with just a well-placer unsettling smirk.
However, it got him to thinking, if Rook Hunt was courting you, he would probably pull some dirty tricks to get in your favor.
Of course, Jade has a few dirty tricks up his own sleeve.
He'll purposefully indebt you to the Mostro Lounge so you have to spend more time with him.
You aren't exempt from his schemes and his teasing, but he doesn't work you as hard as the other indentures.
He's very protective though, so whenever Rook deigns to visit Octavinelle's restaurant to see you, you just happen to be working the back room.
The two glare daggers at each other whenever they're in the same room.
You've never even noticed how you're being tugged on either arm by two slightly manic yet calculating hunters.
Jade and Rook both seem to have set their eyes on the same prey but either would be d@mned before they let you get away.
...
🎮 Idia Shroud 🎮
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🦇 Lilia Vanrouge 🦇
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Once again, not much of a rivalry.
Idia is quite frightened of all people, including Lilia, and Lilia doesn't see Idia as competition.
Lilia has seen plenty of shy mortals with a little crush, but it never mattered much.
The fae could see that you and Idia made each other happy but he wasn't willing to give up that easily.
As soon as Idia discovered that he had a competitor for your attention, he tried to stay as far away from you as possible.
Because a rival means confrontation and he would actually rather d!e.
Unfortunately for his good sense, he couldn't keep you away from him.
You were used to his moods when he shut himself in his room for days and sometimes weeks and you knew how to help, though you didn't know this one was because of you.
You brought water refills and healthy snacks to the Ignihyde dorm and no one dared deny you entrance.
You were the only person who could get their hermit of a dorm leader out of his shell so they all respected you a lot.
When you showed up at Idia's door, worried about his mental and physical health, he knew he couldn't ignore you.
Even if he knew Lilia liked you too, he couldn't give you up.
He definitely wasn't confident that you would choose him if it came down to it but he needed you in his life as a friend, if nothing more.
Lilia, on the other hand, was positive thrilled about having a rival in love.
He'd never experienced thag before.
Last time Lilia harbored feelings for a human, upon hearing of his love, the other humans avoided the object of his affections like they were the plague, afraid of incurring the wrath of the fae general.
But those times were far behind him and all these humans saw was a mischievous boy with wisdom far beyond his observable years.
Lilia didn't want to tease the Shroud boy too much since he knew he couldn't handle it and making your friend upset would make you upset, but how else is one supposed to manage a love rival?
Only behind the guise of an online persona did Lilia confront Idia.
He knew he often gamed with Lilia on an anonymous discord, but Idia didn't know that his gaming partner was the same Diasomnia vice dorm leader.
Lilia always asked Idia about his crush on voice call and if he would ever ask them out.
He even urged Idia to ask you out, hinting that you cared for him too.
Ultimately, Lilia wanted the two of you to be together, since he knew he would never get the chance to be with you.
He had lived far longer and would continue to live long after you had departed from the world so there wasn't much point in trying to make you his.
It didn't stop him from jokingly courting you though.
It was all flowers and late night strolls, sprinkled in with Friday evening Smash Bros.
He observed you and Idia as your relationship developed, outwardly rooting for you but internally heartbroken.
Though Lilia was competitive, he never outright opposed Idia.
After all, it wasn't the shut-in's fault that a human and fae lived worlds apart.
...
♣️ Trey Clover ♣️
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Vs
♦️ Cater Diamond ♦️
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This one is a bit more toxic.
Obviously, Cater and Trey are friends who exchange gossip and some personal information about themselves.
Trey considered Cater a trustworthy confidant, so he told him about his crush on you.
Cater, harboring his own feelings for you, was quite torn by the revelation.
He did like having Trey as a friend, but he far from trusted him.
Cater decided to keep his affections a secret, watching as Trey grew closer to you and resenting his "best friend" more by the second.
Cater hadn't ever felt for anyone like he did for you.
It seemed like you were the only person who would accept him no matter what.
You had seen him break down and you were still there as a friend.
You liked the peppy screenager and the cold, calculating senior and the little kid with mommy issues curled in a ball on the bathroom floor.
You understood him in a way no one else would ever be allowed to.
Trey didn't quite understand that.
The vice dorm leader hadn't always liked you.
He thought that because you hung out with the first years that you were a trouble maker just like them.
But over time, he realized they you were more of a first year wrangler.
An ADeuce whisperer if you will.
He appreciated you for doing his big brother job for him and admired you for putting up with them.
The two of you bonded over the big sibling role and found yourselves talking a lot more often.
You would help him in the kitchen when he baked and you were invited to every unbirthday party.
Cater noticed Trey's feelings for you first and found himself unbearably jealous.
He didn't say anything, of course, because his bubbly persona he had created was supposed to be happy for you and Trey.
Trey gradually noticed how Cater was much less tense around you and put together that he had feelings for you.
Neither of them ever said anything about their observations but they knew.
And they hated it.
In my headcanon, they've always had a strained frenemy relationship and this just put more tension between them.
You, miraculously, don't notice the tension even though it makes every unbirthday party very stressful.
Everyone else has noticed and is a little worried about the growing resentment between the two "best friends".
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violettduchess · 6 months
Note
Yay! I'm excited for this idea of yours!! Could I ask for Silvio + Vampire/Detective (either works!) + Fluff? I felt like Pirate was too obvious 😂😌
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A/N: We talked about this and the request changed a wee bit. So here is your Silvio, a vampire MC and something spicy! I hope you enjoy it my sweet @xbalayage ��
Silvio x female vampire Reader
WC: 2.7 k
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It is a night of gleaming silver stars and a sharp sliver of moon. The ancient manor, hidden within the protective shadows of the forest, stands regal, with its seven gables and heavy velvet curtains. Inside, its occupants yawn, rising to greet the darkness, readying themselves for an evening of meetings, treaties and hopefully, revelry. 
You’re in the banquet room, watching the others eat merely for the pleasure of it. None of them actually needs food. Mortal cuisine is appealing every now and then but it’s been so long since you were human, you hardly ever feel the need to indulge in such nostalgia. 
Although…..maybe indulging would be better than….this. Lifting the crystal goblet to your lips, you tell yourself it won’t be that bad. Just give it a chance. This time the blood substitute given to all the vampires attending the gathering could actually taste good. You tilt it upwards and the cool, thickly-clotted, crimson liquid creeps down the glass in fits and stops, crossing the line of your red lips and coating your tongue.
Your body heaves and your throat closes in a gag. A full body shudder runs through your limbs from the top of your head to the tips of your toes in their black boots.
Ugh, enough of this.
The goblet is set down in one violent motion, clanging as it hits the polished onyx of the banquet table. Ignoring the curious gazes of other clan members, you push your chair away and flounce from the extravagant dining room in a flash of dark satin and black leather.
“Still revolting,” you mutter to yourself as you storm through the manor, down hallways lined with oversized, dour portraits of vampire nobility, lush carpeting absorbing the fall of your heels. In a cloud of indignation you fume all the way back to your guest suite where you throw open the ornate wooden door……
…..to find Silvio lounging on your bed, sipping a glass of the vile liquid you just rejected while thumbing through your black, leather-bound notebook.
“What the hell are you doing here?” 
He glances up, not one ounce of shame on his extraordinarily handsome face. 
“You told me I should read your notes on all the other clan members. So I’m readin’ ‘em.”
“Oh for fucks sake, I didn’t mean break into my room and take over my bed.” 
You’ve known Silvio Ricci for so long. A century ago, you worked together to broker a trade deal/ peace agreement between the Benitoite vampire clans and those of your native Rhodolite. Its massive success ensured that you have been working together ever since. 
He sits up, stretching out his long body, his impossibly blue eyes still scanning your notebook.
“You got the better room. And you keep annoyin’ me about learnin’ more about these Jadean vamp clans so-” He stops talking when he notices you lifting your velvet travel cloak from the armchair it had been draped over.
“What do you think you’re doin’? “
The dark cloak falls over your shoulders, settling with a soft, satisfying whoosh around you. Turning, you view your reflection in the mirrored front of the wardrobe, smoothing down the front of your elegant, sable blouse.
“I’m going out for a real drink.” A pat to your hair and then you spin on your heel, already feeling that prickling thrill that rushes through you at the beginning of any hunt.
But when you face the door to the bedroom, Silvio is there, blocking your exit. He must have shadow-jumped, moving in seconds from one place to another, using the shadows of the bedroom as conduits. Your notebook is facedown on the brocade carpet, abandoned.
“You’re not goin’ out there.” 
Despite the height of your boots, you’re still forced to tip your head up in order to meet his gaze. You forget how tall he is sometimes. His moonlight hair falls forward, the tips brushing the tops of his slanted cheekbones, a celestial curtain behind which his ocean eyes burn bright.
Your brow arches in question as you force yourself to look into all that endless blue. 
“The hell I’m not. Silvio. Move.”
“No fuckin’ way.” His jaw tightens, the words spit out through clenched teeth.
No, don’t throttle him yet. You draw a patient breath. “Why not?”
He rolls his eyes with a huff that tells you how very idiotic he finds that question and your fingers curl inwards, red nails pressing into the palms of your hands. Maybe time to throttle him?
“You know the woods outside this place are crawlin’ with Slayers, just lookin’ for a prize.”
A soft hiss escapes you. Fucking Vampire Slayers. They know the clans meet once a year and somehow they always find out exactly where that is. It makes arrivals and departures especially challenging and not every vampire survives it.
But you are not every vampire.
You fasten your cloak with one hand, the large rose-shaped ruby of your signet ring twinkling in the wan candlelight. “I’m a big girl, Silvio. I can handle myself.”
He growls as he shakes his head. “Stop being so fuckin’ stupid. Just drink the substitute for a few days and feed once we’re outta here.”
What is going on? Why does it even matter to him whether or not you take the risk of going out into the night?
"Silvio…..what the fuck? So I want to find some real blood. So it may be a bit dangerous. Who cares?!" Your voice is sharp with frustration, bright with an annoyance ready to ignite into anger.
"I do!! I fucking care!"
Silvio's words are torn from his throat by raw emotion, swift and fierce. Something in his eyes flashes, the piercing shine of a lighthouse beacon skimming the unknown darkness of the sea. His cheeks are uncharacteristically flushed, as if he’s embarrassed himself with his own outburst. 
You’re stunned into silence. You can hardly breathe. All you feel right now is the atomic fallout of a heart suddenly blown to pieces by the most unexpected, shocking wave of desire. The world as you know it, have known it for ages, tilts, breaks into a million tiny pieces as you move towards him. Your hand slides over the rich silk of his shirt where you feel his heartbeat thunder against your palm. This is Silvio Ricci. He’s the most aggravating man you have ever known. Arrogant. Commanding. Excessive.
Your hand slides up, gripping the nape of his neck, your gaze never leaving his.
So many hours of correspondence. So many days over so many decades in each other’s company. And while you always had to admit that he was attractive, never had you felt the need to know what his mouth feels like under yours, to find out what sounds he makes when he surrenders to you, to hear the rasp of exhausted desire in his voice as it stutters your name.
And yet…..here, on a night when you expected to be battling enemies for a drink of fresh blood, here you are, your blood practically singing in your veins as you stare into his eyes, now dark as the sea in winter.
“Silvio…..” His name slips from your lips, unbidden, a whisper rounded by yearning.
It is oil to the smoldering heat in his veins. His strong hands reach for you, pull you against him as he dips his head to capture your mouth with his. You gasp at the feel of the strong lines of his body, how well they fit against yours. And you gasp at the feel of his lips, his tongue. Hesitation dies, burned to ash by lust. His fingers press into you, greedy, almost needy. His mouth is demanding, hardly giving you a moment to adjust before he moves, head tilting from one side to another, tongue demanding access over and over. He kisses you as if he is drowning man and you are oxygen, as if you are the lifeblood essential to all vampires. You feel the sharp scrape of his teeth against your lips, the way his skin grows warmer under the hand that still grips his neck.
With a throaty growl, you jerk out of his arms, stepping back. He hisses, taking a step toward you. He can’t drink in the sight of you fast enough. Your electric gaze, your lips, red and kiss-swollen, the graceful movement of your hand as you unhook your cloak in a single motion. It falls to the carpet soundlessly.
And then, with vampiric speed, you are back in his arms and he’s lifting you, carrying you to the bed he had been lazily lounging on not that long ago. He lays you down on your back, one hand reaching down to brush away several locks of hair that have fallen across your neck and shoulders. His gaze follows his own fingers as they brush over your skin as if entranced by the sight, as if he can’t believe that he’s actually touching you. When you reach up and take his hand, he blinks, his cheeks flushing as if he’s been caught doing something too private, too intimate. He lowers his body, burying his heated face in the curve where neck meets your shoulder. Your fingers slide through his moon-spun hair and the aesthetic of your sharp, crimson nails dragging through all that silver pleases you deeply. 
“I knew it,” he murmurs, his nimble fingers somehow already nearly finished undoing the front lacing of your blouse. “I knew you wanted me.” His tongue traces each new expanse of skin as it is revealed. But the blouse only opens so far. He curses the innocent piece of clothing, impatiently grabbing the hem and pulls it over your head.
“You are such an idiot,” you gasp, fingers curling inward of their own accord as he leaves a string of heated kisses down your abdomen, his eager fingers already skimming over the waistband of your leather pants. 
He lifts his head, pushing himself up with one hand, his eyes as bright as twin stars. His fingers pause and it is torture. 
“There’s no shame in it, ya know. Lots of people want me. You probably wanted me for centuries, huh.”
Oh this jerk, this ridiculous, infuriating, beautiful vampire jerk.
You tilt your head, your hands roaming over the luxurious material of his sleeves. A corner of your mind pulsing with want wonders if he would mind you tearing it to shreds. Ah but he needs to be taught a lesson for such arrogant talk. Using your supernatural strength and speed, you roll, easily flipping him onto his back, pinning him down with one hand even as you straddle him invitingly.
“You’re the one who wouldn’t let me leave. Who told me….what was it? How much you care. And then started kissing me like the world is ending.” You run your thumb over his lips, slowly enough to feel the way they tremble.
His breath hitches in his throat and you watch, fascinated and oddly turned on by how red his cheeks suddenly glow. Who knew he blushed so easily? He looks away, brow scrunched in irritation even as his hands slide over the curve of your hips, over the leather that is molded to your form, holding you firmly in place against him.
“The fuck you talkin’ about…,” he mutters before reaching up for you, pulling you back down towards him. “Shuddup and let's get back to how much you want me.” 
You pause, your lips scant centimeters away from his. “I believe the evidence of how much you want me is much…..clearer.” You roll your hips against his, demonstratively and there is no denying the hard truth of your words.
He groans, shaking his head and the world tilts again as he flips your positions, covering you with the lean, muscular length of his body. The bed groans at all this gymnastics.
Your pants join your discarded blouse and travel cloak in a forlorn heap on the floor. How he managed that between kisses that leave you dizzy and aching and fighting for air is a mystery for the ages.
You’ve managed to wrangle him out of most of his clothing, without tearing anything, when suddenly you grow still, your eyes closing as a wave of true, overwhelming dizziness crashes over you. Silvio feels the way your body stiffens and freezes, his hand growing still on the inside of your thigh. He raises his disheveled head from the line of red marks he was leaving along your lower stomach.
“You ok?” 
You blink, trying to clear the sloshing in your head.
“I….I think I’m just hungry.” You try to smile, to lighten the violent shift in mood. “I was trying to go get something to eat when you so….expertly distracted me.”
He scrambles into a sitting position and then carefully, almost tenderly, reaches down to help you sit up as well, propping you up against the pillows.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t had a drink since we got here?” The paleness of your face, the way you’re holding yourself is answer enough. “The fuck?? We’ve been here a week! You ain’t really that stupid, are ya?”
You wince at his justified admonishment and he sighs heavily. He reaches down, grabbing a handful of his own billowy white shirt from off the floor and pulls it over your head, covering the body he had so eagerly uncovered just moments ago. The sight of you in his shirt has him swallowing, a tangle of complicated emotions tumbling through him.
Standing, he crosses the room in nothing but his silken braies, heading for the table next to the dresser and even through your light-headedness you can’t help but admire the lean cut of his body. He reaches for the crystal decanter, the one filled every evening for all attendees with fresh blood substitute, the one you have ignored for days despite how often they refresh it. The liquid flows from the lip of the decanter into the intricate glass that has lived untouched on that same table and with a determined set to his jaw, he strolls back to you, lowering himself to the edge of the bed. He shoves the glass in your direction, his expression a scowl draped in the embarrassment of caring.
“I know you can’t stand this shit but you ain’t gonna be able to handle all the things I’m wanna do to you unless you got some strength in ya. So stop actin’ like a stubborn jackass and-”
You yank the glass from his hand and, your gaze never leaving his, knock down the contents in one long swallow. You almost manage to hide your revulsion. 
Silvio takes the glass from you, his fingers brushing yours, softly, like small flames licking at your skin. He grins slowly and any lingering feeling of disgust is incinerated by the sudden desire that flares through your body.
“Ya want me that bad, huh?”
The blood substitute has renewed you, has sparks exploding like tiny supernovas through the pathways of your veins. You feel reborn, a phoenix bursting from the ashes in a fiery explosion of wings and want. You move faster than a human eye could see, too fast for his own enhanced vision. One moment he’s grinning at you, licking his lips like a cat that’s caught the canary and the next he’s pinned beneath you again, looking up into a face bright with eagerness, eyes glowing with satisfaction.
And when your fangs slowly protract, it’s all he can do to stop himself from taking you then and there.
“The lady is still hungry,” he rasps as your hands slide over his chest, your strong fingers curling around the hard muscles of his shoulders, sharp red nails biting pleasurably into his skin. 
You lower yourself down, tracing the shape of his ear with your tongue, fangs scraping the delicate skin. Beneath your body, you feel the tremor of lust that rolls through him and you smile, the apex predator clutching its prey within possessive talons as you whisper in a voice raw with yearning, “The lady is absolutely…..famished.”
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