#what power does he hold over men

[dayurno]

those r all so funny im guffawing helpp 😭😭 they’re all gonna die 💔

transmigrator riko transmigrator neil and transmigrator nora sakavic (she’s neil’s fbi agent)

[ikilledamanforthisurl]

Minami anon x4 but you bring up a lot of really interesting points abt like subcultures / attitudes and also more personal life stuff I never thought about b4! In my head the kinda headcanon justification I made for myself was like the idea Minami used to be formerly realllyyyyy low on the yakuza ladder and as thus kinda just acted like a robot / as dully competent as possible (he wouldn’t drink because What If that affects his ability to Do Anything etc) and so on and Internally Really Wanting To Live A Much different life / be more important then just Another Guy In this Organisation. Which is why he clings so hardcore onto emulating Majima who IS someone eye catching and attention grabbing and to him Important. I think my main basis for this is all of the times Minami in like fight scenes acts really dramatically and even when he loses tries to insist on Keeping On Fighting UNTIL Majima walks in and Minami completely shuts down and just lets him Do As He Does. Sorry if this is a rly big deviation I didnt have a lot to respond to your previous answer outside of I think it’s all really interesting especially the stuff in tags regarding his tattoos (who is she fr!) and if this were a situation where we were having a more private one on one conversation i'd nod very enthusiastically

HAHAHA i know this feeling. thank u for indulging me either way anon and idm the deviation it's like waving a new set of keys in front of my adhd ass. passionate conversations with me derail all over the place i'm very used to it ^_^

and i really like your point about him not wanting to blend in, wanting to Stick Out as a Somebody. it would not phase that kind of Minami if drinking + whatever else was the norm amongst his peers. perhaps it was influence from Majima that convinced him to drink after all........ its certainly what i like to think....... makes their stupid toxic dynamic hurt a little more

and i am so glad u also noticed the way he refuses defeat every chance he gets it literally plagues my thoughts the most.... i think about it sooooo much so so soo much. it's definitely an ego thing + just another nod to Minami's utter reverence of Majima. he goes from being pretty emotional and throwing a tantrum when you Throw Off His Groove™ but forgoes doing what he wants the second the bossman gives the order. Boss' word takes all priority, regardless if you're stupid, or emotional, or whatever else.

I love picking this apart trying to discern their dynamic but it also reflects on how Majima is with his men in general..... I've yet to see any of his boys defy him. And for good fucking reason (insert montage of him smacking around his own men)........ Minami also kindof reflects this in how he strings along a bunch of his fellow Family men to watch him fuck around on the karaoke machine, who CLEARLY don't want to be there but tolerate him regardless! I'd like to think he doesn't randomly assault them though. Not over small shit anyways, he seems pretty lenient and understanding (see: "shit happens"). He's probably just very obnoxious when ribbed, as he is in many other aspects. Or hell, maybe he shuts down and gets so bummed out that its obnoxious in a really cringefail pitiful way

Ideally Majima's garnered respect not strictly through violence.... We have all seen how personable he can be and how he got himself roped into helping random folks all over in y0. Ideally Minami even less so, if he is as lenient as he seems. Which leads me to asking what's up with his title, "junior leader"? What the fuck even is that? Surely it doesn't bring all that tolerating respect with it yknow. I dont think anyone else in the series is a JL. We're not particularly clued in to how Yakuza life actually works in the game about Yakuza, but you can bet I can pull ideas out of thin air to tie stuff together if given scraps

Least likely in my opinion: JL is literally a next-of-kin for a leader position in the Family, possibly for patriarch itself, which implies a much closer relationship between Minami & Majima than we're ever clued into. i'm also not so sure it suits him (though i can pull arguments for it out of thin air as well if you want) since he really seems like the kinda guy happy doing his regular grunt work. brother is not patriarch material imo...... not for what i personally believe a patriarch's duties are, anyways.

Funnier option: he got the role to be appeased. you mentioned that you think he wants to Be Somebody and i completely headcanon-same..... this scrappy little shitkicker kid waltzed in one day, hounded someone until they let him join, and has been gunning for respect ever since. not necessarily power, i'd like to think he wants to be well-liked, but also, it's totally an approval-from-the-father thing. he wants to do good enough for Majima to Notice. since Minami wouldn't know subtlety if it socked him in the face, it's not difficult in the slightest to see this and he gets thrown a Special Role because he's just the most Specialest Boy Ever.... in this case Junior Leader probably just reflects stuff he was already good at while working. Couldve been a socialite amongst the new kids on the block, could even be a trainer. Higashiyama and Nojiri (Dead Souls Majimagumi) seem to imply that recruiters and their recruitees generally work one-on-one and get to know one another pretty well, but that could easily just be a Them thing. I'm sure there's plenty of newbies who get recruited by already-busy blokes.... fuck it, have Minami show them the ropes, get em ready ASAP and keep it going......... yknow that type of thing

[dekuneho]

five in the morning ☆ ( ​prohero!katsuki x reader ) mdni | suggestive

The digital alarm clock seated on your bedside table flickers, casting a glow that reads 5 AM in the asscrack of morning. Your boyfriend is dead asleep and probably won’t wake up for a while, hopefully. You don’t waste opportunities that the universe has clearly granted on a silver platter, and so you set to work right away.

You slip off the bed, skillfully slithering away from Katsuki’s grip. He stirs momentarily, legs sliding over the warmth you had left; you hold your breath, watching him carefully. Katsuki continues snoring.

Mission accomplished.

Katsuki’s the better cook, and he had been spoiling you rotten all this time with his three-star Michelin cooking. Considering how well he treated you last night, you want to treat him by waking up to breakfast in bed this morning. It’ll be nothing special, but he’d be on the other end of the princess treatment this time, and it’s at least something.

A traditional Japanese breakfast would take a while, but you had prepared beforehand with leftovers and freezer foods. Now, the real challenge is perfecting Tamagoyaki the way Katsuki does — an impossible feat, but you wouldn’t be Katsuki’s favorite person in the world if you weren’t stubborn and headstrong.

As the rice boils, you move to reach for a cutting board but instead, startle at a warm figure pressing against your back.

Fuck. He wasn’t supposed to wake up right away! You barely started. Did he wake up once he realized you were missing?

“Katsuki,” you say, twisting around to meet your boyfriend’s half-asleep daze. “Can you go back to bed and pretend to be surprised in preferably an hour or so?”

“Nah,” he rasps out, octaves lower than usual. “Don’t wanna waste my view.”

Your plans have been foiled, but whatever. The heat emanating from Katsuki’s body makes you want to leech off him for a little longer. This morning had been a little too cold for comfort.

Katsuki keeps quiet as you work, his chin resting on the curve of your shoulder. He doesn’t murmur any complaints or criticisms, so it could either be because he’s approving of your methods, or it could be because he’s dozing off on your clavicle. He’s pliable as you glide through the kitchen, back and forth — and still, Katsuki’s like a cat perched over you.

“Hey,” Katsuki says. You feel his voice rumble over his chest, and it meets your shoulder blades. “Baby, look at me, please.”

A please so early in the morning? What a miracle.

You shift around, meeting Katsuki’s sharp and heated gaze. Seems like he enjoyed watching you a little too much. You smile, your arms slowly winding their way around his shoulders as his nose brushes against yours.

“Hi,” you whisper in the space you share, grinning.

“Mm,” hums Katsuki, expression turning fierce.

Without warning, he ducks and bites over your nose. It doesn’t hurt, just the threat of his sharp teeth on your skin. Still, you jump in his hold, bewildered and possibly a little aroused?

“Katsuki—”

He licks over your mouth, humming like a cat purring in approval. 

Well — scratch that. He’s more like a dog, licking your face like that, what the hell? You hide your face with an arm, ignoring the heat pooling in your stomach at how Katsuki’s staring at you like he’s mistaken you for breakfast. Breakfast that you worked hard to prepare!

“Down, boy,” you scold. Is he experiencing cuteness aggression?

“Had some on your lips,” Katsuki explains, like he couldn’t have just wiped it off with his thumb. “Tastes good.”

He pokes his tongue out, and you go cross-eyed, trying to follow it. There’s a trace of sauce on it, and you have to summon the power of a thousand men to hold back from sucking on it. He cages you on the island counter with two beefy arms.

“You, I mean,” clarifies Katsuki.

The thousand men are failing miserably.

“Katsuki,” you warn, sounding winded. Pointedly ignoring his grin, you push on his chest. “Let me finish your damn food first, ungrateful brat.”

“You ain’t my ma,” Katsuki snarks back. “Could make you one, if you—”

“Katsuki!” You push on his shoulders with more force, ears burning. Katsuki barks out a gleeful laugh, sounding too lively at this hour, feeding your mess of irritation and arousal.

Katsuki skids to a halt before you can reach the dining table, leaning forward to capture your lips in his. You inhale sharply, fingers twitching uselessly by his side. Katsuki pries your lips open with his, licking into your mouth some more. You can taste the residue of the fruits of your labor ( the breakfast that will get cold soon if Katsuki doesn’t cut this shit out ), and his hand sliding down to cup your ass is all it takes for you to melt against him.

You jerk away, needing to breathe. Katsuki watches you with a frown. You feel lightheaded.

“Fuckin’ cute,” he mutters, pinching your cheek. “Cookin’ breakfast f’me like that. So good to me, baby, you know that?”

“I — I should be the one saying that, Katsuki,” you say, embarrassed. “‘s why I wanted to surprise you.”

Katsuki scowls. “Stop acting all cute so damn early in the morning. I don’t want to fuckin’ marry you on some random fucking Wednesday.”

Breakfast is quiet, with you steaming from embarrassment and Katsuki preening from his win, all smug and stupidly handsome. It didn’t work out as planned, but maybe it was just an opportunity for you to share a Wednesday morning with your Katsuki, who’s criticizing the lack of spice but inhaling every grain of rice on his plate. 

You smile at your food. Maybe marrying him on a Wednesday wouldn’t be so bad.

[shinobicyrus]

I've seen a lot of posts about Batman using his Bruce Wayne alter ego for the good of Gotham: job programs for felons released from prison, orphanages, charities, high wages for his employees, ethical business practices...the legendary post where Bruce Wayne goes to Wal-Mart.

Thus far I've never personally seen anybody really dig into the persona of Bruce Wayne the Billionaire Playboy. A handsome, rich, powerful man who always is seen at fancy galas, art openings, charity dinners, and wild parties with at least one beautiful woman on his arm.

We know Bruce Wayne is the mask, and its Batman who has a...complex love life, depending on the iteration we're talking about. Talia, Catwoman, sometimes Wonder Woman.

Bruce Wayne's dates, on the other hand, are all "normal" people. Maybe they're an aspiring actress, a supermodel, a prima ballerina, the occasional reporter...and every time there's that bit of nervousness at the start.

Sure everyone knows Bruce Wayne. Everyone knows the story with him. Sometimes his wilder parties make the news, but there's never really been anything nasty reported about him. Never...allegations. But he's a billionaire. He's one of the most powerful people in the whole city, nevermind the country. If he did have some skeletons in his closet. Well. Men with power have a way of making those kinds of stories go away, don't they?

As time goes on the Date's fears dissipate pretty quickly. Bruce Wayne is nothing but polite, kind, and at times charmingly awkward in an 'raised by his butler in a mansion' kind of way with his dates. Some of them can tell he's holding back, of course. Maybe the more perceptive Dates notice he's smarter than he lets on - playing the himbo or hamming up the "know-nothing rich boy" act to the cameras or some of his wealthy peers.

He also listens, is the thing. He's always listening to what they're saying, is interested in hearing about their careers, their hobbies, their lives. Really listens, too. Might refer to something a Date said weeks later off-hand. Buy out the whole museum for a private dinner date with a famous painting from an obscure artist they like, or a private performance with another's favorite band.

He has anecdotes and funny stories for days that somehow says very little about his personal life. The Dates know he has kids (it's practically a running gag in the news that Bruce Wayne has adopted yet another orphan) and maybe she might spot one of them at the mansion, but Bruce seems very keen to shelter them from any intense spotlight and scrutiny, and they all seem happy if a bit weird like him.

Eventually, there's drifting. He's a very busy man, with a very busy schedule. On more than on occasion his nice old butler will call and extend apologies that Mr. Wayne will not be able to make it this evening. Sometimes it's virtually impossible to get a hold of him over the phone. After a while they stop trying. None of them feel quite surprised by that. In the end, it just doesn't work. Sure, he's a little distant and doesn't make himself emotionally available...but he's not a bad person.

Especially when the so-called "exes" of Bruce Wayne start networking. Gotham isn't a small city, but the social circles Bruce Wayne travels in aren't as big. They don't quite gossip or complain about him. More like...who else would get it?

(I touched his side once and he winced...like he'd been hurt real bad there. He laughed and said it was tackle polo. How does that even-?)

(Somehow, after two dates, he saw right through me and listened while I told him what that casting director tried to do. He nodded, gave me the contact details of a law firm, and said not to worry about the legal fees.)

(I don't know for sure it was him, but it can't be a coincidence that my building got bought out from under my shitty landlord and we were all able to buy our apartments under market value.)

(He got my brother in the best rehab program in the city after his relapse. It probably saved his life. We'd stopped dating months ago, I still don't know how he found out.)

(He gave me a card with a phone number and told me that if I was ever in trouble to call it. Said one of his cars would come to pick me up, any time, any place, no questions asked. The one time I did have to use it after a bad party, it was Alfred.)

I think any tabloid reporter digging around for salacious stories or dirt about Bruce Wayne's love life would be completely and politely stonewalled when they try asking his former Dates. Even when money is offered. Every single one of them.

[celestialowlbear]

⋆ ☀︎ ⋆ Halsin, Gale, & Astarion NSFW Headcanons ⋆ ☀︎ ⋆

Pairings: Halsin x You, Gale x You, Astarion x You

Summary: Their favorite positions with you. 😌

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. GN reader/you/Tav. Sex, praise, kissing, romantic. Soft Astarion. Established relationship with reader/Tav.

A/N: I’m sick at home and had thots. I apologize for any mistakes, haha. Just some soft smut for these men. Thanks for reading!

Halsin 🌱

Halsin doesn’t mind any position as long as you are thoroughly pleasured. But…

Halsin does love it when you ride him when he’s flat on his back.

Whether it’s in a bed, a grassy field, your bedroll, the soft banks of a river…Halsin will have you like this anywhere.

To see you in control of your pleasure and taking what you need…he goes feral.

Halsin also loves feeling up your body while you do so, squeezing and caressing and worshiping with his giant hands as he watches you bounce on his cock…he could have you like this for hours.

Not one single inch of your body is left untouched.

Feeling the softness of your ass or breasts (if you have them) under his palms, tracing his hands over your hips and thighs, murmuring praises as he does so.

You can still lean down and kiss him passionately, swallowing one another’s grunts and moans and loving sentiments.

Halsin knows he still has a little power, matching his thrusts with yours, pushing up into you, and increasing your pleasure.

Your reaction is always immediate as he fucks up into you like it was his task given to him by the Oak Father himself.

Witnessing your head thrown back in ecstasy, your lips parted and eyes heavy with lust as you gaze down at him with intense love…sometimes that’ll end him right then and there.

Gale 🔮

Missionary King. Hear me out.

It’s the intimacy of it all, being so close to you, faces millimeters apart, relishing the soft gasps of his name in time with his thrusts.

He can kiss you, entwine his hands with yours above your head, whisper sweetness in your ear, and sense your entire body under his.

Gale loves when your legs wrap around his waist, wordlessly encouraging him to take you faster and deeper, or how your hands grasp and tangle in his hair or dig into his back.

He can take in every expression of pleasure, how stunning you look, how much love is in your eyes even amid intense coupling.

You capture every expression of his, too. The way his hair hangs around his face, his powerful thrusts precise just like his touches, and his breathless “I love yous” between desperate kisses.

Gale prefers taking you in the comforts of your shared bed in his tower in Waterdeep, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn��t have you laid out on his desk, or perhaps in the study in front of the fireplace if the moment is right.

In exceptionally passionate moments, he’ll hook your legs over his shoulders to drive into you and make you see stars, usually bringing you both to your end quickly with the intensity of your devotion.

In this position he can wholly worship you like the god(dess) you are to him.

Astarion 🌙

Astarion enjoys being with you in the confines of your bedroom with no distractions.

Just you and him, only focusing on exploring one another’s bodies and becoming comfortable with your newfound intimacy.

Astarion loves beckoning you to his lap while he sits against the headboard of the bed.

He prefers you riding his cock like this, at least until you orgasm first, and maybe he’ll switch up positions.

He likes it mostly because it gives him full access to your neck and chest, but there’s another reason.

Astarion might not admit it out loud (maybe later into your relationship) but he loves just…being able to hold you in such an intimate moment as well.

Astarion will wrap his arms around you and lavish your neck, kissing and nipping and inhaling your scent, leaving love bites as he goes.

Tasting you and feeling you like this makes it all real to him, knowing your connection was real, and that your connection was more than purely physical.

It was real love, and it made his heart want to burst out of his chest.

He can nibble at your chest or just bury his face into your soft skin and get fully lost in everything that is you.

Of course that doesn’t mean his hands won’t wander, cradling the back of your head and giving your ass a hearty squeeze when the moment calls for it.

You never miss the quiet gasp that leaves his lips when you lightly tug at the curls of his hair and kiss him deeply, or the gentle smile that graces his lips when you are both finished and spent, watching you fall asleep in his arms.

-ˏˋ⋆ Thanks for reading, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! ⋆ˊˎ-

*Banner made by me. Photos taken from BG3 wiki*

[ollieolliewrld]

HSR Men in Bed (NSFW)(afab!reader)

A brief look to what your sex life would look like with them <3

*CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT 18+*

4.2k words

Aventurine

♡ How he loves to get you all worked up

♡ Seeing that blush across your cheeks or how you try to keep a straight face as he toys with you in public

♡ That’s what turns him on

♡ Having you as putty in his hands as he lays you down before him

♡ It is always a production with him, as he makes undressing you into the most erotic experience

♡ He keeps your legs pinned with his not allowing your lower half to move as he takes off your shirt slowly making you writhe beneath him 

♡ Aventurine wants you all to himself which is why he is not afraid to leave marks as he leaves a bite mark on your collarbone kissing over it to relieve the pain

♡ He will fuck you anywhere anytime pulling you into the nearest empty room and testing to see just how quiet you can be 

♡ “Shhh, you wouldn’t want someone to walk in and see how much of a slut you are, would you?”

♡ Big fan of having you restrained in some way whether it be handcuffs or his own hands holding your wrists together 

♡ His cock stirs in his pants just thinking of how cute you look with your hands behind your back and his dick down your throat

♡ You are his and he will use you as such

♡ Enjoys eating you out until you cum twice and then making you bounce on his cock

♡ Aventurine sits back and admires how your tits move and the pout on your face when your thighs start to burn 

♡ On days when he feels merciful he will take the cuffs off and let you support yourself until you cum on his cock but most of the time he will flip so you are on all fours and he can shove your face into the sheets as he enters into you from behind

Argenti

♡ The praise this man showers you with is endless

♡ His passion for sex makes it so you feel loved and cherished at all times

♡ This does not mean he is boring in bed but rather he puts his all into it

♡ Each time he thrusts into you you can feel it

♡ Loves to watch you cum

♡ Argenti likes to have you in his arms with your back against his chest as he watches you pleasure yourself

♡ Whispering words of encouragement in your ears

♡ “You’re doing such a good job for me, Princess”

♡ His favorite position is missionary because why would he not want to look at your pretty face while he buries his cock deep inside of you

♡ “You look so beautiful underneath me”

♡ Only ever looks away from you to place kisses along your neck never breaking his pace 

♡ He only really likes to have sex in your shared bed never being a fan of disgracing you anywhere else 

♡ However, there have been a few occasions where he simply could not resist you and has taken you on a balcony as you overlook the lights of the city

♡ He is usually quite careful with you only wanting you to feel pleasure but he can be convinced to do otherwise

♡ You asked him to be rougher with you, he agreed and a safe word was put into place 

♡ Argenti starts by cautiously placing his hand around your throat, once he learns that you are not made out of glass he starts to explore 

♡ He teases you by pinching your nipples and placing bites along your inner thighs

♡ While he never gets to be truly rough he does become much more handsy

♡ Aftercare is very big for him, Argenti loves to clean you up and hold you close to him just as much as he loves to see you with pleasure in your eyes

Blade

♡ Sex with Blade is interesting 

♡ At times he is taking his time with it, drinking your body in memorizing every part of you 

♡ Fucking you slowly and deeply making sure you feel all of him

♡ Losing himself in the feeling of having you so close to him

♡ “I thank the higher power every day that I have found you”

♡ Holding you in his arms as he rolls his hips into yours numbs darkness gnawing at him

♡ Soft kisses cover your body, his hair falling onto your face as you lock eyes with him

♡ You wrap your arms around his neck bringing him in so your lips meet

♡ This side of Blade is not one you often get to see, him being so vulnerable and open with you, you treasure it

♡ Other times, though, he is using you to fuck through the pain

♡ Roughly bending you over the nearest surface not bothering to fully remove your clothes

♡ Just get whatever you're wearing off enough to thrust his cock inside of you 

♡ The sounds of flesh slapping against each other ignites a fire in his chest

♡ He picks you up and presses your back against a wall 

♡ Holding you by the throat as he brings your legs up to wrap around him Blade begins a merciless pace into you

♡ He keeps his hand there until he begins to see the life drain from your eyes, he then lets go and allows you to wrap your arms lazily around him

♡ Once you have enough life back in you, your arms grab at him, his hair

♡ Your nails dig into the flesh of his back causing him to bite down on the flesh where your neck meets your shoulder

♡ The sounds you let out are pathetic and pushes him over to finish

♡ No matter how hard he fuck you, he will never let anything happen to you

♡ You mean too much to him for that

Dan Heng

♡ Dan is reserved in most things he does and when it comes to sex this translates over

♡ Never is he embarrassed to be seen with you but he would turn a bright shade of red if your hand was to graze over his thigh while in public

♡ Having you around him at all times brings him a great deal of comfort but he firmly believes that certain aspects of your relationship should be kept behind closed doors

♡ When Dan has sex it is all about you and him and bringing you both closer together

♡ Worships your body as he explores you 

♡ “You are so perfect”

♡ He strives to make note of every part and mark on your body

♡ The sounds you let out as he swirls his tongue around your nipples make it hard to restrain himself

♡ He wants to take his time with you giving every part of you the attention it deserves

♡ Pleasure for him comes from knowing that you are here with him and there is nowhere else you’d rather be

♡ The feeling of being closer to you than he has ever been with anyone else brings him close to release 

♡ Although, when you tighten around him like that he can no longer hold back the primal desire to mark you as his

♡ The slow and calculated rolling of his hips turns into desperate thrusts chasing a high

♡ He takes your legs into his hands bringing them to his shoulder to ensure you feel his full length

♡ Loves the way it feels when you run your fingers through his hair

♡ Whether it’s when he is eating you out or while he’s inside of you Dan will melt when he feels it

Dr. Ratio

♡ He has done more studying sex than having it 

♡ This is a dual-edged blade as he is confident in his abilities but there is an adjustment period

♡ Like all fields, he wants to be the best and he wants to understand your body fully

♡ Nothing is out of the question for him, he wants to try everything and come up with what works the absolute best for both of you 

♡ For him what works is the proper mix of loving and passionate sex + rough and desperate sex

♡ Dr. Ratio loves you and aims to make your life as perfect as possible so finding what brings you the most pleasure brings him a sense of accomplishment

♡ He’s not much for jokes and this is abundantly clear in the bedroom 

♡ Having sex is a very serious thing for him that carries a lot of meaning, you mean a lot to him and he wants to show you that

♡ While he is not one for emotions he is not a robot, he does have feelings for you

♡ Watching you enjoying yourself and feeling pleasure makes him a very happy man 

♡ He goes above and beyond to make sure he is not being selfish in bed 

♡ Being intimate with you allows him to relax and let go a little bit which he never lets himself do

♡ Not very big on dirty talk, instead opting for instructing you

♡ “Move your hand just like that, baby” 

♡ Just as he learns your body he learns his as well and shows you exactly what to do to bring him to release 

♡ Loves you watch as you stroke his cock, your pretty hands making him feel so good

♡ Although it is very rare and he would never admit it, he loves it when you try something new with him and catch him by surprise

Gallagher

♡ Daddy kink.

♡ He is not into age play but he is incredibly caring and wants to take care of you 24/7

♡ Gallagher is a gentleman at heart and this heavily carries over to sex

♡ He takes great care in touching you and moving you around making sure to be rough enough to inflict pleasure and just the right amount of pain

♡ Goes feral if you wear any form of lingerie for him

♡ His calm and collected nature tested as you bent over in front of him exposing the lace underwear you had put on this morning

♡ Walking over, taking you by the hips and pulling them back to meet his you feel his already hard cock against you, his fingertips digging slightly into your flesh

♡ He tells you to get on your knees and you obey taking his cock into your mouth 

♡ With his hand tangled in your hair, he keeps you there until there is spit dripping down your chin and your eyes are slightly watering

♡ Pulling you off of him, he takes your face into his hands making you look up at him 

♡ “Such a pretty mess I made”

♡ Wants you to be vocal whether it is moaning, whining, or screaming his name he wants to hear you

♡ The way you sound when you beg ‘Daddy please’

♡ He would give you anything you wanted

♡ You will have to sufficiently beg first

♡ It’s not his fault you look so cute when you cry only wanting to cum while he slowly moves his fingers in and out of you looking down at you with a caring smile

♡ When you two moved in together he had the goal of taking you on every surface of the place so sex has been interesting

♡ The top places have been on top of the washing machine while running, the dining room table, and the wall of the game room

♡ Marking you as his and making your house into a home

Gepard

♡ Gepard has two distinct modes

♡ He will become flustered when you make a suggestive comment or rub your hand over his crotch in public

♡ When you get home you will continue to tease him for how red his cheeks got and how he stumbled over his words

♡ You tell him what you want to do with him and he lets out a small whimper as the words are whispered in his ear

♡ He looks so pretty as he watches you stroke his cock biting his lip anxiously waiting for your next move

♡ When he's like this he will let you do whatever you want to him, he is your toy to play with 

♡ Gepard loves you so much of course he will give himself fully to you, he trusts you

♡ However

♡ There are days when you make those comments and try to toy with him but he grabs you by the wrist as you try to touch him leaning down to you 

♡ “Behave yourself like a good girl, or pay the price”

♡ This Gepard will not play your games and would much rather you use your mouth for something useful rather than running it

♡ When you get home he immediately presses you against the door making quick work of your clothing

♡ Working his way down your body until he gets to where you want him most

♡ But he will not give in to you so easily 

♡ Now is his turn to tease you in the way that you do to him

♡ He savors the way his name leaves your mouth while he thrusts into you hitting a spot that makes you see stars

♡ His hand in the roots of your hair gaining control over your body

♡ Once he starts its hard for him to stop, pulling out of you and seeing your fucked out expression just makes him harder

Jing Yuan

♡ While this man adores you and your body, he also has work that must be taken care of so he balances the two

♡ He adores morning sex

♡ Waking you up by placing loving kisses on your cheeks slowly bringing you out of the dream world and into the moment with him

♡ Before he has to leave you for the day Jing Yuan wants to make sure you feel his love 

♡ Sex like this is passionate, filled with care, truly enjoying each other’s bodies

♡ Holding you close to him as he thrusts into you from behind, never leaving the comfort of the covers

♡ Sweet words flow from his lips as you get close to the edge 

♡ “You are my greatest treasure” 

♡ When you come to visit him at work and see how stressed out he is, you offer to massage his shoulders 

♡ As you work his tense muscles his mind starts to wander off from his work and on to you and how good you looked today

♡ Bending you over his desk is a major turn-on 

♡ He likes it so much that he will often ‘forget’ things at home so that you have to come bring them to him at work

♡ When you get there he sits you on his lap claiming that he just wants to show you some documents 

♡ But his hand wanders between your legs and then you are face down on top of the documents

♡ Not that you would ever complain 

♡ After a frustrating day of work, he is the roughest with you 

♡ Using you to let out any problems he had encountered during the day

♡ This is also when you would receive the most aftercare, Jing Yuan is always aware of how hard he goes on you and makes sure that you receive equal parts love and use as a fuck toy

Luka

♡ For a man with such a sweet face, his sex drive comes as a surprise

♡ Any time you go to the gym with him expect him to be horny 

♡ All of his training gets his blood pumping and any thought of you goes straight to his dick

♡ Luka does not mind being sweaty but if its an issue for you he will gladly fuck you in the shower

♡ Shower sex is not his favorite thing, he would much rather play with you in the shower and then carry you to the bed

♡ He loves to cover you in suds feeling every inch of your body completely unrestricted by clothing

♡ Likes to cage you against the wall of the shower with his arms using his knee to spread your legs

♡ He guides your arms to rest on his shoulders as he brings the showerhead between your legs

♡ He loves to see your reaction as he increases the water pressure focusing it on your clit

♡ When he’s feeling nice he will let you cum other times he gets you close and then takes you out of the shower to finish the job

♡ His strength and stamina come in handy as he loves to move you around 

♡ Very enthusiastic in bed and has fun with you while doing it 

♡ His angelic laugh is the complete opposite of the pace he is taking thrusting into you with

♡ Luka is not big on teasing you but he would melt like putty if you were to tease him

♡ With all of his fighting, you'd think he would be tougher but with just a few touches you have him wrapped around your finger

♡ The tough exterior he puts up completely crumbles when you are on top of him 

Luocha

♡ Luocha adores physical contact of any kind with you

♡ He can keep a cool head in any situation, which is why he likes to play with you in public

♡ It starts with lingering touches, his hand trailing down your back barely grazing your ass

♡ Then it moves on to whispering into your ear 

♡ “I should have you bouncing on my cock right now”

♡ He loves to see your face turn red as you get flustered over his words

♡ No matter what he does to you he keeps a calm and playful smirk as he eyes you up and down 

♡ The only way to get him back is to play with his hair

♡ Running your hands through his golden locks gets him hard almost automatically

♡ He is quite ruthless in the bedroom often not stopping until you are in tears

♡ As much of a gentleman as he is, Luocha prides himself in ruining you in bed

♡ Pushing you to your limits and then kissing away all your tears

♡ So often he has had you brainless riding out a pleasure high only to put you right back on his cock thrusting you further into oblivion

♡ His favorite position is on your back with both of your legs on his shoulders 

♡ Having you like this allows him to see every reaction on your face as he mercilessly pounds into you 

♡ Occasionally he would want to incorporate light bondage liking the idea of having your hands bound allowing him full access to your body

♡ Though the furthest he would go would be nipple clamps if you were into them

♡ He would not be against himself being handcuffed but it would take some convincing from you

♡ Luocha takes a more dominant role in the bedroom but it would not be impossible to get him to be submissive from time to time if you know how to work him

Sampo

♡ Life is never dull with this man 

♡ It does not matter the time or place if he wants you he will have you

♡ The thrill of almost being caught excites him to no end 

♡ He toys with you in public having gone out and purchased a remote-controlled vibrator

♡ It’s when you wear that one skirt of yours, his favorite skirt, that he bends you over before you can walk out the door and slides the toy into you

♡ “Be a good girl for me, show me how good you can be”

♡ Sampo’s timing is perfect starting it with a soft hum and picking up the intensity when you are in the middle of something

♡ He will be sure to keep you out all day to play with you

♡ You two stop in at a diner for lunch against your protest

♡ He has kept you on the edge for a while now plotting in his head what he wants to do with you

♡ As you sit down the vibration decreases and you see the smirk on his face which tells you something is about to happen

♡ When the waitress comes over you brace yourself but the intensity you are expecting doesn’t come 

♡ Sampo keeps this up until your food arrives, confused you begin to eat but as soon as you open your mouth it hits you

♡ Unable to hold back the sound that leaves your lips you hurriedly attempt to stifle it with your hand 

♡ Sex is one thing but Sampo would much rather toy with you watching your reactions

♡ When in bed he prefers to have you on top, allowing him a full view of your body as you bounce on his cock

♡ If you were to place a hand around his throat poor Sampo would cum right there and then

♡ The power he holds can be easily taken but only by you

Sunday

♡ Planning, perfection, execution

♡ This is what matters to him

♡ Before you even come into contact with him, Sunday knows exactly what he wants to do with you

♡ He may make you cum once, twice, endlessly, or not at all

♡ You think he's cruel at times as he edges you to no end

♡ Not letting you know the release of finish

♡ “Do you think you have earned it?”

♡ To watch you pout and squirm under him as he continuously brings you closer is his heaven

♡ The way he touches you is so loving

♡ How he strokes your cheeks, the care he takes in moving your body

♡ It is a stark contrast with the cruelly he performs to your lower half

♡ On the nights when he is feeling generous, he will let you cum after all the teasing, however, it will be done with him watching

♡ Sunday will sit back and watch as you now struggle to bring yourself to climax without him lifting a finger

♡ He relishes in the look on your face when you finally cum, how blissful you look

♡ The arch in your back as you moan out his name

♡ The things you let him do with your body he is eternally grateful for as he looks at the glistening mess between your legs

♡ Leaning down to begin cleaning you with his tongue 

♡ He revels in the feeling of listening to you beg for release desperately pleading for him to show mercy

♡ When he does feel merciful and decides you are deserving of being pushed over the edge, you will be forced to cum until he is satisfied

♡ It does not help that his stamina is enough to continue fucking you straight through until you have cum twice and he is just beginning to get close

♡ The feeling of your walls tightening around him as he continues to thrust into you while you cum on his cock 

♡ He can’t decide what's better, that feeling or the sounds of your desperation 

Welt

♡ Behind his professional exterior, this man is sexually depraved

♡ If he could have it his way he would be fucking you every second of the day

♡ His sex drive is only matched by ours, the two of you very often sneaking away in the express to his room 

♡ Has a slight corruption kink! you weren’t very experienced when you met him and he loves to teach you and explore the new feelings with you

♡ As much as he would love to fuck your brains out Welt understands if you would like to take things slower

♡ Guides you into different positions and gives directions

♡ “Just like that, baby, use your tongue around the tip”

♡ The man goes primal when he watches you swallow his cum

♡ He rewards you by making you cum until you cry

♡ Pushing you to your limits gets him high

♡ Watching you break underneath him completely coming undone as his cock slides in and out of you

♡ It is addictive to him, he needs it, he needs your tears of pleasure 

♡ Welt will only stop when he is satisfied, when he feels like you have gotten enough 

♡ “You can keep going, I know you can”

♡ You’re his good girl of course you can cum one more time for him

♡ He will have you reduced to a puddle in his bed, cum drunk

♡ When he eats you out nothing is going to pull him away from lapping at your juices 

♡ Your thighs tightening around his head, you pulling at his hair

♡ His grip on your hip tightens leaving bruises like fingerprints on your flesh

♡ Having his face slick from your pussy eggs him on to fuck you until your legs shake 

♡ Ultimately Welt is over the moon to have someone whom he can spend his life with not only emotionally but sexually as well

Author's note: So happy to be back writing after taking a few days off! I look forward to what everyone thinks <3<3

[ittybittyfanblog]

Only You, Darling (Only You, Babe)

Summary: There were orders for your abduction. You were made to be the bait by a rival gang to get to the elusive head of Onychinus. Sylus doesn’t take it too well. Word Count: 4.8k Tags: mc x sylus, fem!reader x sylus (use of she/her pronouns), depictions of violence (it gets a little graphic), reader gets abducted and injured, strong language, protective!sylus, he’s a little unhinged here, self-indulgent! A/N: I can’t believe this game pulled me out of a three-year creative rut LMAO. I’ve been doing fanarts, now I’m writing again?? The power these pixelated men hold over me, man.  Anyway, enjoy!  This version of Sylus is probably a little OOC idk idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It was close to midnight, and you're being followed.

On your six, a stocky man in an unassuming dark suit has been tailing you since you left the dingy bodega a little over a mile away from your apartment for about, three? five minutes– no, maybe even longer.

Shit, you mouth silently. Sloppy. You should’ve noticed him sooner, and the two other lackeys now closing in from up ahead. They’re armed too, if the hands hidden inside their jackets were any indication.

As if things aren't looking bad enough, you’ve decided tonight would be the perfect night to go weaponless, deciding against bringing your handgun with you since it was supposed to just be a quick run to the store for supplies. Namely, the late-night cravings sort of supply.

You clutch the wrinkled paper bag containing your coveted jalapeño Cheetos tightly.

This is what greed does to you, a mocking voice echoes in your head. Since when did your inner voice of reason sound masculine and oh-so-familiar? 

Exhaling quietly, you try to calm the rising beat of your heart and appear to be clueless of your surroundings. Walk at a normal pace. Look unaware of the men with the intention to… What even was this? An ambush? Good, old, regular robbery? No, it doesn’t seem like they were in it for something that insignificant. They wouldn’t even bother to be this cautious if it were. 

But then, what were they here for? The dangers you were more familiar with are of the monstrous kind in the literal sense of the word; entities that you face on a daily basis as a Deepspace hunter. Not the regular threats posed by mankind – which in this particular situation, suddenly feels more foreboding.

While racking your brain for ideas on how to slip away from their sight without escalating the situation, you fail to notice a fourth person hidden behind the dumpster inside the narrow alleyway on your left until you feel the cold, hard edge of a pistol gun hit your temple.  

With a shout, your hand shoots up in an attempt to yank the gun away from the hand holding it but the sudden burst of pain from the impact has left you feeling dizzy and off-kilter. The moment you throw your fists up to block your face, heavy fists strike you directly in a flurry of hits, colliding with your forearm and your unguarded ribs.

You let out a pained grunt as you stagger backwards, trying your hardest to keep yourself from falling back on your ass and ward off the next incoming attack. 

A sinister laugh alerts you of the others, now surrounding you in a circle. Shit!

You hastily shift your legs into a crouching position, bracing yourself as you attempt to sidestep the one in front of you before making a run for it. You spring into action, but before you can even take another step, an arm shoots out and coils tightly around your neck like a noose. A cloth that reeks of something distinct is slapped over your mouth and nose, rendering you unable to do anything but struggle. 

“Now, now– the boss wants her in one piece, John,” The stocky man, who’s apparently larger and more jacked up-close, pipes up. John tightens the limb circling your throat, preventing you from breathing, before slightly loosening his grip. 

 “I’d advise you from struggling too much, sweetheart. But if you insist on making this harder for yourself,” the man talking suddenly grins, revealing rows of crooked, silver teeth. “He ain’t said nothin’ about a couple of bruises.” 

You give him your dirtiest glare, trying to pull away from the death grip the burly man called John had on you, but you feel your muscles slowly becoming heavier and your vision starting to blur. 

Ch-chloroform?

You make a muffled shout, a scurry that earns you a heavy hit on the stomach, one last futile move to free yourself, but the inevitable effect of the potent substance starts to overpower you. 

“After all, we need to make sure that the big bad boss of Onychinus actually comes for his bitch, don’t we?”

Rendered completely useless, the men start to make quick work to restrain your arms and legs in a hogtie before carrying you down the street, to a shaded corner where a large, gray van is parked.

The barn doors open, and you’re tossed in carelessly to the back, landing painfully on the cold, hard floor. An involuntary whimper escapes your lips, feeling like one big bruise; splotches of red and blue start to form like a violent watercolor on your skin. 

The engine revs. Before completely losing consciousness, you think you hear a faint caw.

The car drives off the beaten path, into the night, leaving not a trace of evidence of what transpired mere minutes ago aside from a discarded brown paper bag and a deflated bag of chips. 

-

-

-

From a distance, flying towards the hazy skyline, a mechanical bird crows a bad omen. 

_____

In the dead of the night, the head of Onychinus sits as a spectator; a towering presence at the head of a table inside a private room, obscured in plain sight, in an unremarkable establishment far east of Linkon City. 

Unassuming as it may be, the room’s occupants are men of great renown, both in influence and notoriety. The CEO of a chain business in Azure Square, a regional manager of a well-known bank in Linkon, the head of a weapons trade representing a faction in the N109 zone… All held significant power, all held ulterior motives.

A meeting of minds; the type held only in the secrecy of the night, gone in the break of dawn. 

Sylus has half the mind to listen in on the droning exchange of fake pleasantries and plastic smiles as the men deal trades in nature that of weapons and favors. A number of hungry, beady eyes cast him furtive glances, fearful yet devout. Some cautious in the hope of earning his approval. 

“–the package will be en route to the agreed-upon address by the end of the week,” a stout man in spectacles finishes off, clearing his throat. Beads of sweat start to form at the back of his neck as red eyes bore into his, assessing. Deliberating. “O-or if Richard’s able to give me the go-ahead in advance, I’ll make sure it arrives by Friday,” a gulp–then, “sir.” 

All in reverence. 

He hums, his switchblade dancing idly in his hand, deliberately stretching the tension that hangs heavy in the air. He delights in this power to unsettle, savoring the authority that his mere presence commands—a demand for absolute deference. 

“Make it half that time, will you, Raymond?” Sylus responds amicably, not as a question. The man, Raymond, sputters. 

“That won’t be pos–” Sylus tilts his head, eyes shifting into something more dangerous. “Please, I’ll try to cut the time shorter but there won’t be any assurances.” 

The pale-haired man sighs in acquiescence. “I guess that will have to do.” Raymond lets out an exhale of relief, but catches his breath as Sylus continues, “Any later than Wednesday, and I’ll come to claim it personally.” 

Raymond, more nerves than man, starts to blabber something in response–but stops when something black suddenly appears in a blaze of dark energy, near the shoulder of the intimidating man he’s trying to appeal to. 

Sylus raises a hand, and a large crow lands on his pointer finger. 

He caws, once. Twice. And shows a projection. 

The inhospitably cold room suddenly went glacial. 

All conversation halts to a stop as an overwhelmingly suffocating aura starts to emanate from the man–no, the being at the head of the table, making all that are in the vicinity freeze in fear. 

The devil posing as the leader of Onychinus abruptly stands up, and Raymond thinks, Oh I’m going to die here.

Without a word, the man disappears in a Stygian haze.

_

Five minutes later, only after they felt like death was no longer looming over their heads, did anyone dare to move a muscle.

_____

Your head hurts, and your mouth tastes of rust. 

Having been awake for longer than your captors were aware of – two (?) of which bickering near a barred slate of metal that you assume is the door after taking a quick peek from beneath the mess of hair concealing your face – you try to get your bearings together without arousing the suspicion of your present audience. 

“–bet it’s gonna take a while ‘fore that guy arrives. You think she’s enough to get him to show his face?” 

“Damned if I know. In any case, we got a pretty, li’l plaything on our hands,” a snort. “Make her worth the effort.” 

Where were you? From what it looks like, you’ve been transported into a nondescript underground bunker of sorts, dank with a hint of mildew and rot in the air; a rumbling air vent on your left masking any noise that escaped your mouth when you woke up. The area is poorly lit, save for the flickering bulb hanging precariously above your head as your main source of light – good for casting shadows to hide your bruised face, bad for the pounding headache you’re pretty sure is a concussion. And with your back seemingly close to a wall, you arrive at the conclusion that there are no other entryways, no way to leave, but the guarded door in front of you. 

In short, you have no idea where you are. 

Fuck–this is bad, you swear to yourself internally, trying to control the rising panic swelling up your chest. You never thought your nightcap would lead to this mess. Nobody knows about your current predicament, and it’ll take more than a day before your absence raises any alarms, so right now, you’re on your own. 

Think, think! What can you do?

What can you do? You have nothing on you, nothing you can use as a makeshift weapon to defend yourself with, and your hands are tightly bound behind your back by a thick, heavily twined rope with no give. The situation is slowly turning bleaker by the second, and it isn’t even your fault that you’re here in the first place! You were made a pawn, a mere bait in this messed-up dick-measuring contest between a crazy, sadistic, self-proclaimed head honcho and Onychinus’s own crazy, sadistic–

Wait a minute. Sylus. 

You send a strong prayer to anyone above that’s listening, and an angry telepathic shout for good measure to the one who’s unaware of his involvement – but nonetheless the source of your ruined night – in this attempt at kidnapping a perfectly law-abiding citizen of Linkon.

Sylus, as much as I hate your unfortunate tendency to stalk me through means that, honestly? Eludes the hell out of me, I really, REALLY hope that you’ve been keeping tabs toni–

“Hey, boss! I think this one’s awake!”

Fuck. No use pretending anymore. 

You hear heavy footsteps from outside the room before the corroded metal door swings open to reveal a large man, easily standing above six feet, sporting a neatly trimmed beard and an unsettling smile. His arms are covered in tattoos– overlapping, almost undecipherable. A gnarly scar runs from the side of his mouth to just above his brow bone; his right eye a cloudy gray, most likely a morbid souvenir from the sustained injury.

His functional eye zeroes in on your pitiful form, and his smile widens into a hostile grin. 

“Well, well. It seems like our esteemed guest is finally ready to join in the fun,” His voice sounds like gravel, with a mocking intonation. “I hope my men weren't too rough with you on the way here.” 

You let out a breath through your teeth, blinking a few times to try and rid the blurring in your vision. You have to bide your time– “Why am I here? What do you want from me?” 

The man cocks his head to the side, smile still in place. “I assume you already know. But I’ll indulge you your little questions, why not?”

He crosses the space separating the two of you with just a few, languid steps before he’s in front of you. He leans forward, brushing the messy locks of hair – dried with blood – away from your face in a deceptively calm manner. “The devil needs to pay his dues, but it’s been rather difficult to get a hold of him, you see,” he sighs in exaggerated disappointment. ”I intend to collect, so I waited patiently for the right moment, for an opening. For an opportunity. 

And here, the opportunity presents herself.” 

You sneer, moving your head back to let your hair fall from his creepy hold. “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about, mister, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got the wrong idea.”

He barks out a laugh before gripping your chin tightly between his fingers. “You’ve got a smart mouth on you. Maybe we can find a better use for it.” 

You feel it before you hear it. 

“Perhaps not.” 

Something vicious saturates the air, something intense and terrifying and wrong. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and some sort of primordial response deep within your brain is telling you to get away from it.

But then, the paralyzing fear melts away to something akin to hope when you realize the source of this new disturbance.

Relief washes over you when familiar ink-and-red tendrils materialize behind the man in front of you. The dark wisps dissipate like smoke as soon as it comes and in place, your savior – sporting an expression that could only be described as downright murderous – stands before you, all six feet of unadulterated rage.

Several things happened so fast, it was almost simultaneous.

A cacophony of shouts came loudest from the two men who had been on guard duty but screams also echoed from outside the room. You saw flashes of red, twin laughter, and blood spurting from the necks of the now headless guards, and then a symphony of bullets and a lot of things breaking rang across the room. 

Suddenly– 

Deafening silence. As if something has put an abrupt stop to the noise. 

Amidst all the chaos, the scarred man in front of you had no time to make a move before savage whips of crackling energy engulfed him, leaving only his head free from the smothering darkness. 

His expression betrays something wild and manic as he tries twisting around to look at the figure behind him. “You–”

Sylus pays no mind to the breathing, dead fool – lower than dirt on his feet, with the nerve to harm what is most precious to him – as he keeps his gaze solely on you; his eyes darting up and down as if taking inventory of all the bruises and scrapes you sustained from the abduction. 

You meet his eyes. “You came.” 

An indecipherable look passes his face, gone as quickly as it came. “A little too late. I apologize.” 

You weakly huff out a chuckle, wanting to shake your head but decide against it lest it aggravates your concussion. A prickling sensation, then the rope around your wrists falls off with a quiet thud. 

“Luke. Kieran.” 

“Everything’s all accounted for, boss,” Kieran announces, suddenly appearing beside your right, along with Luke who’s on your left. Both look no worse for wear.

 The latter gives you a sympathetic look. “Oh, man. They got you good, little crow.” 

“Caught me off-guard, s’all,” you insist half-heartedly. 

A sigh. “Transport her directly back to base. Attend to her critical injuries once you arrive, and keep her awake. I’ll handle the rest once I get back,” Sylus instructs the twins in a tone that brooks no argument.

They nod in sync and start making a move to carry you out, but you protest.

“Wait, you’re staying behind?” For some reason, the thought of being separated from him, even for a short amount of time, makes you feel ill. Well, worse than your current state at least. 

Sanguine eyes soften when he hears the tremble in your voice. The offending man in front of you, reduced into something less threatening than a cowering dog in comparison to your rescuer, is forcibly pushed aside to make room for Sylus as he steps closer. 

He crouches low so that you’re looking down on him instead of up. One large hand covers both of yours, mindfully avoiding the fresh rope burns on your wrists, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the unmarred part of your skin. 

“This will be quick, sweetie. I’ll be back by your side before you know it,” he exhales, closing his eyes for a moment. “I swear to you.”

You swallow, but nodded reluctantly. “Come home soon.” 

“I will.”

With that, you let yourself be carried out of the claustrophobic space you were confined to, into a larger room littered with unmoving bodies that you're frankly too tired to care about at the moment, up three (rickety) flights of stairs where you exit into what looks like the inside of an empty shipping container, before finally, finally getting out. 

A gust of salty wind hits you and you ask, “Are we near the docks?” 

“Yeah,” Kieran answers, carefully putting you down on the backseat of Sylus’ car. “Mephisto trailed after the van they stuffed you in before reporting back to the boss. We followed soon after.” 

Luke frowns as he inserts the key in the ignition. “We weren’t aware that they had eyes on you for a while now. An oversight on our part, won’t happen again,” he assures you. “Gotta give them props for that, at least.” 

Kieran, now getting in the passenger side of the vehicle, shoots him a look. 

“Anyway, we’re glad we got to you before they did anything… worse,” Kieran continues, then winces in a show of mock sympathy. “Can’t say the same to that fucker back inside. Haven’t felt Sylus’ bloodlust this strong in a long while.” 

You try to focus on their words, but you feel yourself nodding off as the remaining adrenaline slowly leaves your body. You know you should feel more worried about what the two were insinuating, but your mouth still tastes like you swallowed a bunch of coins and you just want a soft bed to sleep in for an entire day. Or three. 

“Oi, no sleeping. Doctor’s orders,” A snapping finger in front of your face forces you awake. 

You blink your tired eyes open in an attempt to stay lucid, the pulsing pain in your head becoming more prominent as soon as the threat of danger has passed. 

“This is gonna be a long night,” you sigh, wishing that Sylus will keep his word and be quick about… whatever he’s planning to do with your abductor. 

–––––

There hasn’t been much left of the man who proclaims to be the new head of an arms syndicate Sylus had dealt with in the past. He recalls the history of his relationship with the cartel being less than cordial, but nothing that would warrant his ire. Except for tonight.

He usually doesn’t leave a trace when doling out punishments; no, not anymore. Not in recent years. He prefers to be efficient about his killings, dissipating any evidence in thin air after reducing them into fine paste, rather than make a big show out of it. Quick and precise.

Except today… Someone had the arrogance, the absolute audacity to steal directly from the dragon’s nest.

The contents of which have always been kept in strict confidentiality. What is known, only chosen individuals bound to secrecy are privy to, and a lot of people would kill for. 

But unbeknownst to anyone else but its owner, only one thing in this hoard of secrets truly matters to the dragon. One solitary treasure alone he would burn planets for – and someone has tried to steal it.

Harm. the treasure. To get to him. 

It seems as if the new bloods needed a reminder of who, exactly, they’re stealing from. 

One who dwells deep within the underbelly of the cities both monster and men inhabit, that even the most heinous of sinners seeking solace in the dark, are afraid of. 

And what retribution tastes like to those who are foolish enough to bite more than what they can chew.

The poor soul unfortunate enough to be the first one to discover the carnage will witness that what was left of the man that had wronged the Onychinus kingpin is stuck on the walls, the floor, and the ceiling of a basement where the treasure was held captive. They will find that the man’s innards are deliberately hung in a haphazard fashion, in all corners of the room like bloody, sinewy tinsel. 

And the centerpiece of this bloodbath is none other than the man’s decapitated head, forcibly attached to the hanging light in the middle of the room. A bulb crudely drilled past his cranium, while blood dripped down the floor in slow, ominous rivulets. 

They will understand in dawning horror that the one responsible for this... gross butchery, has left the head swinging. That the man’s mouth will forever remain agape in an eternal scream to immortalize the exact moment he realizes the gravity of his sin.   

Yes, Sylus is more than glad to remind them. 

_____

You arrive a quarter past four AM. 

Barely taking a step past the foyer, the twins immediately whisk you inside to perform an ‘emergency patch-up.’ Luke’s words, not yours.

“We’re your personal CNA while waiting for the head nurse to take over,” he explains cheerfully, wrapping another layer of gauze around your wrist. You hiss when Kieran dabs a cotton ball on the gash on your temple, peroxide fizzing as it comes in contact with the dried-up blood. Muttering out a “sorry!” Kieran does quick work in cleaning the injury and covering the affected area.

In no time at all, all visible wounds are bandaged and disinfected. The worst of your head wound had to be stitched up, but other than that, nothing seems to require immediate medical attention. There’s nothing left for you to do but to bear the aches that came along with the bruises – especially on your tender midriff – and to pop a tylenol for your throbbing headache.

You offer them a sincere, “Thanks. No, really.” before they leave you in Sylus’ room, after multiple reminders to “not sleep before the attending nurse arrives for the final diagnosis.” 

(You think they might have enjoyed playing caretaker a little too much.) 

With a lot more effort than you care to admit, you painstakingly remove your bloodstained clothes until you're down to your underwear, before draping yourself in a large, red, silk robe. A hot shower sounds heavenly to your sore muscles, but the soft mattress is calling to you more so you head straight to bed. 

With nothing else to occupy yourself with, you prop your head on a mountain of pillows – to keep yourself relatively upright – and let out a sigh. 

Tonight had been a shitshow. All you wanted was something to snack on while you binge through the last season of the show you were watching back at your apartment; you never thought a late-night run to the store just a few blocks away would result in… this. If not for Sylus’ intervention, you’re sure you'd be leaving with a lot more than a couple of scrapes. If not worse.

You're lost in your own thoughts when short, successive raps on the door catch your attention. It swings open before you have the chance to pipe out a, “come in!”

Speak of the devil.

Sylus enters the room, not a hair out of place. You notice that he’s changed into a casual, brown sweater and a pair of dark-washed jeans. His eyes meet yours, tightly-controlled expression relaxing as he crosses the room towards the side of your bed, wasting no time. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Still pretty sore, but Luke and Kieran already handled the worst of my injuries,” you answer, making a move to sit up. Sylus tuts disapprovingly, gentle as he puts a hand on your chest to prevent you from moving any further. He sits gingerly on the edge of the mattress, careful not to jostle you. Once fully settled, he let out a deep sigh.

“You had me worried for a moment there, kitten.” He admits, a slightly rough edge to his voice as emotion seeps into it. He regards you intently, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re here, safe. 

Your hand reaches out towards his face. Without missing a beat, he leans in to nuzzle your palm, eyes closing shut. He reminds you of a big wolf, unbridled fire simmering beneath the surface, yet tame in the presence of his handler. 

“I’m fine now, thanks to you,” you assure him with a lopsided smile. “Give my thanks to Mephisto, as well. Tell him he gets a pass on the stalking this time.” 

Sylus opens his eyes, a hint of amusement and something else you can’t identify flickering through. “Oh, sweetie. You’ll be lucky if that bird gives you the privacy to bathe alone after tonight,” he jokes. 

He’s joking. Right?

You eye him for a moment before deciding to let it go. You're too tired to argue.

Instead, you cautiously ask a question you aren’t sure you even want the answer to. “What happened after we left?” 

Sylus expression doesn’t change except for the upward tick on the corner of his mouth; the same peculiar glint in his eyes coming across a little stronger. “They won’t be bothering you anymore. You don’t need to worry about anyone coming for you.”

“That’s not what I asked.” 

He hums. “Do you really want to know?”

You stare at him, and he stares back at you placidly. 

You purse your lips and look away. “Maybe not.” 

Sylus breathes out a laugh. He gently grasps your chin between his forefinger and thumb, guiding your head to meet his gaze once more. A softer look on his face, inching closer to yours.

Your heartbeat slightly picks up. In your vulnerable state, you feel a welling desire to bare your feelings to the man in front of you. You want to tell him how relieved you felt when you saw him in that cursed basement, how he was able to quell your fears with just his presence alone the moment he appeared in a familiar haze of black and red. Like your own, personal, vindictive guardian. 

Instead, you close the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his. 

Sylus groans quietly, a hand cupping your face as he leans closer to deepen the kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, savoring the feeling of contentment from being this close to him. You feel, more than you see, how his taut body loses the remaining tension from the events that transpired just mere hours ago, how he finally relaxes as he loses himself in you.

Very carefully, he eases you further down, cradling your head with one hand until it rests on a pillow. His lips drift to the corner of your mouth, trailing soft kisses up to the apples of your cheeks, your forehead, then to your nose. 

He pulls back slightly, chuckling when you make a sound of discontent. When you open your eyes, you see him looking at you– half-lidded and tender. 

In a low voice, he instructs, “Rest. You need it.”

The feeling of exhaustion pulls you in, but before you surrender to it, you remind Sylus, “I’m not that fragile, you know. You don’t have to worry too much.” You poke his cheek and he catches the offending digit to bite it affectionately. “I’ll be up and running in no time.”

He doesn't speak for a minute, considering your words. His mouth sets into a thin line before letting out a sigh.

“And if you get hurt again? What then?" He whispers so quietly, seeming as if he's talking to himself.

"I'll get hurt again, that's for sure," You tell him, matter-of-factly. "But really, that’s just an occupational hazard. I’m sure you realize."

“Love — what a terrible, little thing,” he muses, half-forlornly, half in jest. "I’d rip this cold heart out and throw it in flames if I could.”

While speaking, his hand finds its way into the tangles of your hair, gently running his fingers through the strands in a lulling manner. His lips landing on the crown of your head softly. Reverently.

You hum sleepily.

“Of course you would, Sy.”

_____

“You’ll be glad to know that the artifact you had your eye on back at the auction will be arriving this Wednesday.” 

“Huh? But I thought it was already sold to someone else?”

Sylus shrugs. “I made a counteroffer.” 

“You didn’t have to. I told you it was fine.” 

“I know. But I also recall a certain someone telling me how much they wished they had placed a bid on it on our way back,” he pinches your cheek fondly. “Don’t worry about it, kitten. It’s yours.”

“Oh. Well– thank you,” you yawn in response, leaning your head to rest against his palm.

His thumb strokes your cheek. “Anything for you.”

[xiaowhore]

genshin men as shoujo tropes.

characters. neuvillette, wriothesley, & alhaitham.

note. in celebration of the shoujo renaissance (and also bc im having a hard time finishing the drafts i left half a year ago) i present to you the ideas i had while half-asleep this morning. i dunno if this will ever be a consistent series but here are the first 3! (heads up: female pronouns will be used in this fic!)

neuvilette ; the duke

it has to be said. he's the duke of the north.

you belong to an aristocratic family, but you're basically neglected due to being your father's illegitimate child with a maid and your younger sister is much better than you at every way there is. appearance, etiquette, and intellect—she is far more superior than you at these aspects. countless men ask for her hand in marriage, while none asks for yours.

but honestly, you didn't want to be wed to a noble. you dream of being a commoner, free from the clutches of your family who looks down on you and solely dotes on your sister. you could be a baker perhaps, since you've always had a hobby of making sweets.

yet your parents suddenly announce you're now engaged. and to the duke of the north, of all people! he has made a great contribution for the war against the monsters within the continent, but he is more known for his ruthlessness and harsh temperament. if you were to be his wife, what would happen to you? the duke holds a lot of power, but no one wants to marry him because they're all afraid of him, you included.

as you're being sent to his castle by carriage, you're already trying to comfort yourself. at least you're away from your family now. he couldn't possibly be worse than them. and as ruthless the rumors all say he is, duke neuvillette is not the type of man to beat a woman who has done no wrong.

your first dinner with him is completely silent. the clacking of cutlery pierces through the air, the only sound you can hear other than your heart rapidly pounding in your chest. your head is bowed, too fearful to meet him in the eye, but you can't help sneaking glances at him.

the duke doesn't appear in most events hosted by nobles, too busy defending his territory from monstrous creatures to attend. but you see now that those rumors about him being unsightly could not be any more false. his long hair drapes over his shoulders, not a strand out of place. his gaze is calculating, a fascinating blue you can't look away from, and his nose cuts a high angle—he'd look fetching if he wore glasses as he does paperwork. really... how could this man be your husband-to-be?

as you're busy worrying over how you shouldn't offend him and appreciating his appearance, neuvillette is trying his best to appear calm. the woman of his dreams is right in front of him, whose hand was promised to him if he won against the dragon slumbering in the northern mountains. the woman he had yearned for years on end, the woman who gave him strength as he was on the verge of death during the war, the woman who doesn't remember him anymore—

but he promised you long ago he'll make you the happiest woman in the world, and he's intent on keeping his vows.

neuvilette may appear stoic, but he's nothing but sweet to you. he accompanies you at every opportunity he isn't busy with work, spoils you rotten, and makes you want for nothing. word spread throughout the land that duke neuvillette couldn't be any more smitten with his wife, erasing all rumors that claimed he was heartless. you were intimidated by him at the start, but as you spent more time with him, you learned that there was no reason to be.

...however, that only applies to you. although you never said it outright, neuvillette can tell your family didn't care for you properly. he already had reservations with them, and now he has other reasons to be angry.

when your sister comes to his residence and claims there was a “mix-up” in the marriage, that she should be the one wed to him and not you, he is furious.

but there's really only one ending for this story—after all, his heart only belongs to you.

wriothesley ; the bodyguard

you're the only granddaughter of a yakuza leader and wriothesley is your bodyguard who will protect you no matter what. (not claiming ‘a girl and her guard dog’ energy; there are plenty of other mangas who have this trope too.)

you're just an ordinary girl with a very extraordinary family but you want to live a normal life free of violence and keep your family background a secret. you beg your grandfather to let you attend classes at a normal school, and he allows you in one condition: wriothesley must be with you at all times.

so yeah. this tall and absolutely ripped guy is behind you every time you walk to school, in the corridors, on the way to the cafeteria, and the only time he isn't following you is when you go to the restroom.

very protective. never lets his guard down when you're talking to boys. doesn't understand what you see in the handsome guy that everyone likes when his looks aren't all that great (he's just jealous).

“let's go home. it's about time for the car to arrive... what do you mean you still have something to do? ...there's someone waiting for you at the rooftop? you found a love letter in your locker? ...i'll wait for you at the door.”

he does wait for you at the door, but he also tries to hear the conversation you're having. and maybe he scoffs a little when he sees the guy who's trying to vye for your attention, because clearly wriothesley worried for nothing.

there will be a lot of dangerous events involved (i.e. kidnapping for ransom, attempts to kill you as revenge, wriothesley's enemies trying to harm you because you're the person he loves etc.) but wriothesley will save you each time.

“i'm right here,” he says as he cradles you in his arms, hugging your trembling body. “you don't have to fear anything now.”

it's nothing serious. just a pathetic attempt at kidnapping by a bunch of idiots who want ransom money. you're safe and sound in the car, waiting for him to finish his business with the delinquents, but that fact doesn't make his anger fade at all. “if i see a single scratch on her, i'll kill you.”

his head is bleeding, dripping crimson over his right eye, but all he sees is your bound wrists, the bruise on your cheek, the blood on your lip. he's out of bullets. you're both surrounded by henchmen. he has a single blade in his pocket. still, he roars with uncontrollable rage, “no one touches her!”

(very important detail: he calls you “my lady.”)

alhaitham ; the nonchalant male lead

he's definitely the cold guy who's (at first) rude and blunt to the female lead.

you've liked him since you were kids. your moms are best friends and you live next door to each other. both of your parents seem convinced you're going to end up together, but he rejects every single one of your advances—not that it discourages you from trying again next time.

you try to walk to school with him even though he always goes to the library too early and you're the furthest thing from a morning person. you offer him the best parts of the lunchbox you cook for yourself. you give him a cold drink after gym class. you invite him out to the mall during the weekends to hang out. you doll yourself up everyday with cosmetics and accessories in hopes that he'll think you're pretty.

but alhaitham always just looks... disinterested. especially during dinners where both of your families are present and his mother teases him about dating you for what seems like the nth time that night.

and you know he's not obligated to like you back or anything. but you still want to get his attention. you want to improve yourself to get him to like you.

alhaitham may come across as cold-hearted, but he buys you bread from the convenience store on the way to school because he knows you missed breakfast just to go with him. he keeps an eye out for any stray balls hitting you during gym class because for some reason you attract them like a magnet. he often declines your offer to go outside during weekends, but he's willing to tutor you for the test scheduled next week.

so you like to think of yourself as someone special. because surely, he doesn't do these things for anyone else, right? you must be one of the closest people to his heart, right?

but then the pretty girl from the class next door confesses to him, and you think you've lost your chance. she's tall and gorgeous, her clothes are always the latest fashion, and you're pretty sure she's around the same student rankings as alhaitham. they're talking by the cherry blossom tree, and no one can hear what they're saying behind the wall you're hiding from in your quest to eavesdrop on them.

but then alhaitham leaves first, not giving her a single glance after what you assume to be a swift rejection. the girl isn't crying, but she looks a bit shocked as she returns to school, not expecting the turn of events.

your classmates don't even pretend to be decent; all of them are asking her what happened. “he says he's not interested in dating, that's all.”

and at that, you sigh in relief. even if you're not special to him now, no one else is either.

you don't notice her looking at you, envy burning in her gaze. she didn't say any lies—but she did omit something important.

“i think... i like someone now. the most important person to me.”

[wolfythewitch]

I don't go here that often but this is specifically about epic the musical. I keep seeing posts getting mad that eurylochus is willing to leave behind the men on Circe's island but then gets angry when Odysseus sacrifices 6 men to Scylla and like. That's fine?

It's not Eurylochus' fault the men get captured, and it's not a wholly selfish reason why he wants to leave.

He specifically tells Odysseus to think about the men they still have, and that's reasonable. All he knows is it's a powerful witch, and all of his men, who were also soldiers and probably good ones, didn't even stand a chance. He wouldn't have known about Hermes, or the moly. He's the second in command, he's meant to be a voice of reason, and in his eyes, going back would have been a lost cause and could've potentially lost them a captain as well

VS Scylla. Odysseus isn't passive in this one, he specifically decides to have six torches be handed out so that Scylla's heads will go for them. It's still a practical choice. It's better to control the options than have the heads go at random. But he makes that choice, that these six men who hold the torches are going to die. That's what Eurylochus is upset over. I think he would have been less upset if Odysseus let the heads go at random

It's honestly the trolley problem haha. Eurylochus does not pull the lever. Odysseus does

[whateveriwant]

I know you already did the 141 boys when their wife gives birth (which was fantastic btw) but maybe if they missed the birth because of a mission or whatever else your brilliant mind can think of!

Don't give me compliments because then I'll follow you home like a cat and you'll never get rid of me 😖

Price

(This goes for all the men, really) but he's absolutely gutted to not be with you as you're giving birth

Honestly, if he had the choice, he would've rather lobbed off his own arm than miss such a momentous occasion in both your lives

It’s nothing less than the literal fate of the world that's keeping him from you, and he makes sure to reiterate that over and over again

The only thing that gives Price a bit of peace of mind when leaving you at a time like this is knowing you have a strong support system to help you through it

And boy oh boy does he put those friends and family members to use by having them constantly text him with every update imaginable

What time your water breaks, how far apart your contractions are, how much you've dilated, so on and so on. He wants to know it all

While he has to remain focused during the bulk of the mission, when he's able to, he's whipping out his phone to scroll through the literal hundreds of messages that await him

The updates are so plentiful and detailed that if he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend like he was right there beside you all along

And once he gets to the pictures of you holding your little one for the first time, well… he's not afraid to admit that he sheds a manly tear or two at the sight

Soap

He kicked up quite the storm at work when he realized he was going to be missing the birth of his child

He did everything in his power to try to get out of the mission – to try to get back to you – but, ultimately, he had no other choice than to go

But he's not just going to go gently into the night. No, he has a few tricks up his sleeve to make it as if he's still there with you in some capacity

Like Price, Soap takes comfort in leaving you with a huge support system to help while he's away

And also similarly, he's recruiting your loved ones (more so their phones) into letting him video chat with you whenever he gets the opportunity

(Does that mean he snuck his unauthorized smartphone into the middle of a battlefield? …. Yes. Yes, he did. .……....… Don't tell Price)

You'll be in the midst of a call with him and a bullet will fly right by his head and embed itself in the wall behind him

Of course, this has you incredibly concerned, worrying over how you're distracting him when he should be focused on his mission

But he assures you there's no need to fret, dear. He's perfectly safe and everything’s completely fine

(Oh, and just disregard that sound in the background, hun. No, it wasn't a bomb. Heavens, no! It was a… a… piano falling out a window)

Gaz

Even when he's away on mission during normal circumstances, he's calling home all the time to check in with you

But given your current state, now he's checking in twice as much as he usually does

Expect a minimum of three calls a day just to ensure things are still all hunky dory on your end

It's during one of these calls that your water breaks, and as you fly into a state of panic, forgetting everything you're supposed to do, Gaz has to calmly walk you through the steps of what you'd planned

He's able to talk you down and make sure you get yourself to the hospital in one piece, but then after that call, weirdly, you don't hear from him again

It's not until several hours later when you've already delivered your child that you're awoken by the feeling of someone beside your bed

You look to see who it is and it's none other than Gaz himself – still dressed in his full gear, covered in all sorts of dirt and grime, a hushed apology pouring from his mouth

He's so sorry he couldn't get there quick enough, beautiful. He left as soon as he could once he'd pulled a few strings with Price

But you don't even care about the excuse because you're quickly enveloping him in a hug. With tears in your eyes, you assure him it's alright. He's here now, and that's all that matters to you

Ghost

When he was informed he was being shipped off to a remote location less than a month before your due date, he was livid

No phone, no radio, no communication of any kind with the outside world and he was supposed to be okay with that? He very much wasn't

The higher-ups had to really hammer home the whole “safety of the world” thing to convince Ghost to go, and even when he did, he did so grudgingly

He finds that as he sits in this shoddy shack halfway across the planet from you, all he can do is keep a mental tally of everything he’s missing

Going with you to your final check ups, helping you pack your hospital bag, holding your hand as you begin to push, etc. etc. etc.

But what about things he might not know about? What if something's gone wrong while he's been away?

He can't let himself think on it too much because he'll end up putting his fist through the drywall, and he needs at least one good hand to hold his child with when he meets them for the first time

Seven weeks, four days, and nine hours after he shipped out, Ghost is on a plane back home

He doesn't stop to talk to anyone when he touches down at base (not even to report to his superiors). He just gets into his car and books it, not letting off the gas until he's parked outside your home again

And when he finally reaches the front door, an unexpected tremor passing through him as he grabs for the handle, he closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath, and walks inside, beginning the next chapter of his life

[yandere-daydreams]

an extended version of this post. hold your plushies tight tonight, folks.

The Yan!JJK Men With a Stuffed Animal Loving Darling.

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Sukuna, and Toji.

TW: Kidnapping, Stalking Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Non/Con, Non-Wholesome Activities Involving Stuffed Animals, and Generalized Freak Shit Activity.

Gojo likes to touch.

He just can't help it. He's never been able to keep his hands off of you, and that means he also can't keep his hands off of your used chapstick and dirty laundry and those cutesy, beady-eyed plushies you keep piled up in every corner of your bedroom - the ones he knows you cuddle to sleep every night, even if you deny when he asks. He likes to keep track of which is your current favorite, which one you're most likely to gravitate towards when you want something soft to hold - mostly just to keep track of your preferences, but also to know which member of your oh-so-precious, oh-so-cherished collection to target when he feels like there's been a little too much distance between the two of you, lately.

You might complain that he's too clingy, that he's too affectionate, that you don't want people to start to think you're anything more than friends, but your stuffed animals don't whine when he tears hole in the bottom of your current favorite and pumps all of his unappreciated affection into its poor, velvet-soft insides. That way, even when you're too cold-hearted to let Gojo cuddle you to sleep, you'll still have a little piece of him in your arms <3

Geto likes to keep his distance.

He's possessive by nature, but you already know that, wouldn't have ended up locked away in some secluded portion of his temple if he wasn't. He tries to be kind, to be considerate, to not let how tightly you cling to that threadbare childhood toy bother him, but it's difficult for him - it'd be difficult for anyone to see the person they love most show more affection to a filthy rag than they do to their doting captor lover, when you embrace that thing so tenderly while flinching away every time he attempts to touch you.

So, he does what he's sure you'd prefer, and he keeps his distance. Specifically, he resigns himself to an arm chair no less than ten whole feet from your shared bed as he tells you exactly how he wants you to hump your beloved childhood stuffed animal, what part of it he wants you to grind against until you soil on the very item you seem so intent on preserving over and over and over again, until he's had his fill. It's not that he doesn't want to touch you - no, he'd do anything to be able to kiss the tears off of your cheek as you hiccup out another fractured sob, to shove his cock down your throat as you mutter little, trembling apologies to an inanimate object - but apparently, he's not the one you want to be spending time with. He can only hope you'll have changed your mind, by the time he's ruined your little companion entirely.

Nanami likes to watch.

To be completely honest, he could care less about your preference towards stuffed animals. It's not that he doesn't find it endearing, but there are plenty of adults who like to collect cute things. You're nothing out of the ordinary - at least, not when it comes to what you do in your free time.

But, he does find it convenient - just how willing you are to accept anything cute and plush and pastel into your home without a second thought. It's difficult to find something that suits your tastes while still being large enough to store and hide a camera, but difficult doesn't mean impossible, and it only takes a few days' worth of effort before his velvet-soft, pastel pink teddy bear is posed happily on your bedside table and he's got a 24/7 view into the moments too private for you to knowingly share with him. He knows it's only a temporary solution, that either his camera will malfunction or you'll notice the strange bulkiness of your newest stuffed animal or he'll get tired of watching from a distance, but that's alright. Cameras can be replaced, paranoia can be soothed, and eventually, he won't have to resign himself to only watching, anymore.

Sukuna likes to dismember.

Piece by piece, limb by limb, thread by thread, preferably while you sob and claw at his wrists and beg him to stop. While other partners might be amused by such a childish pastime, you shouldn't need pastimes at all when you're with Sukuna - not when your attention is better off entirely devoted to him. He might soften later on, suggest you take an interest in something more appropriate for the lover of a king, but that'll only come after he's dismantled everything that's ever stolen your gaze away from him with a gleeful sort of malice. If you're tempted to point out his hypocrisy, mention that he's spent every second of every minute of his life indulging himself in every petty impulse that's ever passed across his mind, don't. Challenging his inclination towards destruction, however justified your complaints might be, will only make him more tempted to show you just how much of your life he can tear to pieces.

Toji likes to tease.

Despite everything, he might be the most likely to indulge your little fixation. He's too cocky to ever be jealous of material and stuffing, and he thinks it's cute - how tightly you cling to something that could never actually protect you from him, how reflexively you hide your face in the nearest swatch of faux fur whenever he gets a little too rough. When he inevitably decides you're too delicate to be left on your own, he might even get you a couple new stuffed animals as a 'welcome home' gift. He's just a considerate guy, like that.

And when he's got you face down, ass up, clinging to the plushie he all-but forced into your arms as soon as he decided he was going to fuck you brainless, he'll only degrade you a little for being such an empty-headed slut, so pretty and so stupid that no one ever had the heart to tell you that you're too old to be playing with toys. He'll coo and pout as you moan and sob into silky fur, asking why you suddenly 'don't like daddy's present' when you try to put any amount of distance between you and him (and, by association, the toy he's got you trapped against), and when you finally lose consciousness still holding onto your stuffed animal, he'll make sure to snap a few pictures; just a little something to show you when you wake up and want nothing to do with your new favorite plushie. You're lucky he's as nice as he is, as generous as he is. Anyone else would lose patience, but Toji's just gotta spoil his baby <3 <3 <3

[dilvei]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 ( y! emperor x m! assassin reader )

yandere! emperor x male! assassin reader

warnings:

attempted murder

attempted poisoning

mentions of torture

some dubcon tumble & kissing in the sheets ey

directory: part one, part two [ coming soon ]

this definitely could've gone to a much, much darker route but instead it turned out kind of cute(?). i once had a similar idea to this one but as like a longer fic but i don't have the time for that so eat this instead y'all 🌈🌈

requested by @n4muqr

✾ | much is unknown of the current reigning emperor, dimitri, and what little is known about him is all rather rudimentary, really—merely the common knowledge shared and repeated by most already.

✾ | for instance, it is often said by the masses that dimitri is akin to a sleeping lion. a calm and quiet presence... until a single misstep is made in his presence, prompting his unbridled fury. the emperor does not merely desire perfection, he demands it with an almost relentless, crazed fervor. the emperor will not— cannot simply stand by when something in his vicinity does not reach that impeccable state.

✾ | another topic, oftenly brought up, is his cruelty. the amount of enemies dimitri has amassed on his path to the throne is not few, and those who remain are, well, tortured and tormented inside the cold dungeons for as long as they draw breath.

✾ | but none of those rumors are the ones that pique your interest in the emperor. no. what fascinates you about dimitri is the fact that he has yet to marry, and has remained so for several years of his reign, much to the utter bewilderment of his own people and his own court.

✾ | and the reason for it is so ridiculous that, the first time you heard it, you nearly topple over from laughter. the emperor is unmarried not because he is unattractive or ugly—the opposite really, if the rumors are to be believed—but because he deems that there is no one perfect enough yet to stand by his side. ridiculous, really. but what is an emperor if he is not arrogant?

✾ | still, the fact that there is no direct heir to the throne due to this is utterly hilarious to you. even more comical is the moment when, one day, you are given the task to assassinate said emperor.

✾ | you hold no loyalty for powerful men like dimitri, especially when they are reputed to be arrogant fools. and yet, curiosity stirs within you as to who issued such an order, for you are certain that you are not the only one sent to assassinate dimitri. his little brother perhaps? he is, after all, next in line to the throne.

✾ | a day after you receive the task, you simply... wait, and you remain waiting even as news of failed assassination attempts after another reaches your ears. not one assassin has succeeded, and it baffles you, really; it is either due to the emperor's extreme luck or, perhaps, his perfectionism has extended to other aspects of his life—namely, the protection that surrounds him.

✾ | so, you plan. disguising one's self to infiltrate the palace would take too long, and the likelihood of success is slim, especially given dimitri’s vigilant eye monitoring everyone’s movements. in the end, only one course of action comes to mind.

✾ | in the dead of night, you silently scale the towering walls of the palace—walls too high for most, surely, but easily surmountable for someone like you. with a mask covering the lower half of your face and more daggers than one should be permitted to carry, you ascend with ease.

✾ | landing on the balcony with barely a sound, you smile as you successfully arrive at the chambers of the arrogant emperor dimitri.

✾ | lock picking the door inside is awfully easy, and as you step into the bedroom that is almost suffocating with its golden splendor, you finally see him. you see the emperor.

✾ | dimitri is in bed, unguarded, with eyes closed and lips parted, so breathtaking to behold that, for a moment, you forget you are here to kill him, to murder him.

✾ | as you edge closer to his still body, you observe the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each soft breath. how his golden eyelashes flutter as the cold night air sweeps in from the open balcony window. it seems almost a waste to kill such beauty.

✾ | and just as you brandish your cold dagger to his neck, your other hand ready to silence his dying cries, dimitri's eyes shoot wide open, an icy gaze staring directly into you.

✾ | despite only just waking, the emperor is fast, sharp and alert, and in a blink, dimitri has already swiftly caught both your wrists with his hands in a vice-like grip, rendering you motionless as you both stare into each other’s eyes in tense silence.

"You shouldn’t be up at such an hour, Your Majesty,” you slowly quip with narrowed eyes, breaking the silence between you as you struggle to free your hands from Dimitri’s grip. Your efforts are futile; his hold on you tightens further.

No doubt, that bruises will soon bloom like dark flowers on your skin, assuming, that is, Dimitri ever lets go of his grip.

With an almost empty sharpness in his gaze, Dimitri inches his face closer to yours, his expression thin as he responds, “And you, should not wander as you wish in your emperor’s chambers. Wherever did you learn your manners, stranger?”

"Well, certainly not around here, Your Majesty.” You let out a sharp laugh before kneeing him in the stomach. But, to your surprise, you flinch instead of the emperor. It feels as though... you just kneed a solid rock.

At your failed attempt, Dimitri merely raises a brow and sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. “I must admit, this is a first. No assassin thus far has attempted to climb my palace walls only to knee me in the stomach. I must say, you do make a memorable first impression.”

"I'm flattered, Your Majesty," you say with a faux smile as you continue to struggle against his grip. Another sigh escapes the Emperor's lips.

Suddenly, perhaps finally finding himself tired of your antics, Dimitri pulls you towards him with a firm grip, effortlessly throwing you onto his bed, pinning you under him with only a hand as though you weigh nothing.

Well now, this is bad.

Dimitri hovers above you, his warm breath caressing your neck, his gaze piercing you with a cold, steely silence. Then— he rips off your mask, revealing your complete face, twisted with frustration; Dimitri's eyes seem to gleam as he notices it.

"Must you really rip it off?"

"It obscured my view of your face, oh assassin. Your mask was a hindrance to us both," he answers, voice as smooth as velvet. With his free hand, and an empty gaze that all but screams danger, Dimitri’s fingertips softly caress your face before slowly, but surely, descending to your neck. You gulp.

Before he can act in a way you do not desire—specifically, choking you lifeless beneath him—you lean forward, rising to press your lips against his in desperation.

Not for his mercy, no—heavens, no. Your lips are coated in poison, a venom strong enough to probably lull a lion into instant slumber, and soon, will render Dimitri paralyzed as well.

Unsurprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly—because you’ve seen it, seen the hint of desire brimming inside his eyes, a flicker that escapes the mask the Emperor puts on—Dimitri kisses you back. And if your swift brush of lips could ever be labeled as a kiss, then what Dimitri unleashed upon you could only be deemed a ravage.

He wastes no time slipping his tongue past your lips, savoring and exploring your mouth as one might indulge in a delectable, forbidden fruit. Despite your efforts, you find yourself drawn into his passion, grappling beneath him as he intensifies the kiss with each passing moment, as though melding your bodies together.

There is no room to breathe, and your head reels from the lack of air.

A bruising grip is placed on your waist as Dimitri somehow deepens the kiss further, his tongue exploring every inch of you, and as you attempt to pull away, he presses forward, biting your lip almost as a form of punishment.

A low whine escapes your throat, seemingly satisfying Dimitri as he hums softly into your mouth. Then, finally, ever so finally, he ends the kiss, leaving you gasping for air.

Tears well in your eyes as you gaze up at him, a half-smirk playing on his lips while he hovers above you, still gripping both your wrists firmly in his single hand, still unaffected by the poison after how much time has passed. How... is this be possible? Is Dimitri perhaps immune to such poison?

As realization washes over you, the half-smirk on Dimitri’s face transforms into a full one. "The poison on your lips is sweet, oh assassin," he whispers, "but in my opinion, the kiss is far, far sweeter."

"You...!"

As you prepare to kick the Emperor in his groin out of extreme frustration, he releases his grip on you, rising from the bed before straightening his attire. "You have passed, my assassin. And henceforth, you will serve me, and me alone," he announces, voice ringing clear inside your head.

You blink, letting his words sink in before narrowing your eyes at Dimitri, who is now sitting languidly on one of his many comfortable chairs in the room. “Just what are you talking about?” His words make little sense, and you feel an undying urge to hurl the nearest object right at his face.

"Who do you think orchestrated the countless assassinations on my dear self, oh assassin of mine? I seek only the finest, and while I knew no one could truly ever succeed in killing me, thus far, your attempt has been the closest."

You push yourself off the bed, striding towards him with your fists clenched. "This is all beyond ridiculous. Do you have any idea how many of us were tasked to end your life?"

"I do."

You cross your arms with a sigh. "So, what now? Is my task over?" The room is far too cold now after you have tasted the warmth that is your Emperor, and your job is clearly over, now that you have, somehow, been forcefully given a new one instead.

Dimitri responds, "You are to be my assassin. I will point the way, and you will obediently follow, with no questions asked. To kill whomever I send you to kill, to dispose of their bodies with no witnesses in sight, and to return to me when I have need of you. Is that clear?"

You roll your eyes at his arrogant tone but then nod obligingly upon seeing the slightest hint of anger in his expression. "Yes, yes. Is there anything else you require of me, Your Majesty? If not, I will be taking my leave now."

"Remain still,” he commands, and a distant part of you screams in frustration as your body effortlessly complies. He approaches you slowly, offering a small smile before placing your mask back over your face.

"When we are alone, just the two of us, I expect you to address me by my given name, my assassin.” He pauses then, lifting your chin with a finger. You tense.

"And...?" you ask back, your voice shaky.

The Emperor’s gaze flickers towards your lips, concealed beneath the mask, as he issues his last command. “That last method of yours. I forbid you from employing it on anyone else,” he muses, tightening his grip on your chin, almost painfully so.

“Your lips are reserved solely for mine.”

[thehighladywrites]

ACOTAR MEN X READER, SITTING ON THEIR LAP

✩ summary: different scenarios where you find yourself sitting on them

✩ warnings: nsfw, 18+, mentions of sex, mentions of self-doubt, kissing, begging, gossiping, fluff, smut, crack, fun times and soft Eris😭💗

✩ amara’s note: the original cassian hc was so long that i had to stop myself bc i was thirsting and it turned into a regular oneshot lmaooo😭 anyways enjoy babes!!!!💗💗💗

reblogs are really appreciated! :D

RHYSAND

No matter how angry you and Rhys get or how petty the fight is, you two always end up holding hands, even while yelling at each other.

Sitting in his lap while you two argue about random, non important stuff is a standard

You guys just don’t do the whole “no touching” thing

Today, the argument was over who cooks better, both of you bickering pettily.

“Listen, I love you a lot, but the kitchen isn’t your best friend. It's crazy how you can burn an empty pot.”

“Maybe you’re crazy,” you retort, arms crossed over your chest as you step closer to him, leaning against his desk in his office.

He keeps arguing with you, going back and forth, while pushing his chair back from the desk to make room for you.

“Whatever, Rhys. I don’t even need to cook when I can summon anything. It’s stupid, and you’re being unfair,” you mutter as you put your hands on his shoulders and plop down in his lap, subconsciously warming at the way he holds your waist and places one hand on your back to keep you steady.

He suppresses a smile, scratching the back of his head as he looks up at your pouting self. “You’re absolutely right, sweetheart. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, you’re an amazing chef,” he concedes, his tone laced with affection.

“Awww, come with me while I make you something,” you say, flashing him an oblivious smile.

“Oh! Um, you sure we shouldn't order something or..?” he asks nervously, his voice getting higher as he kisses you.

You slip out of his lap and hurry downstairs to plan his meal, assuring him not to worry about ordering anything and to just come down for his favorite meal.

“Dear Gods,” he whispers as he gets up, a mix of worry and fear in his voice.

ERIS

Eris had been stressed out for a few weeks now. Nothing you said seemed to make a difference.

He was dealing with his father’s death, ruling a new court as the heir, and inheriting the High Lord powers. Your heart ached for him. You wanted to be there for him, giving him hugs and words of encouragement, but you were not on that level yet

Today had been the most stressful day yet, resulting in him shutting down and locking himself up in his bedroom.

“Eris, are you okay? Can I please come in?” you knock gently on the wooden door, voice hushed and gentle.

After a few moments of silence, you hear him shuffling behind the door until he opens it very slightly.

He is shirtless, only in a pair of pants. You manage to catch a glimpse of his tired, amber eyes before he turns around to lie in his bed.

The room looks clinically clean, the only disturbance being Eris’s rugged appearance.

Without saying a word, you walk over to him and give him a hug. It’s a long, warm hug that tells him everything he doesn’t allow himself to hear: you’re there for him.

It takes a few moments for him to hug you back, but when he does, he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, bringing you into his lap.

Only after an hour of silence does he speak

“I feel like i’m stuck. These powers are killing me, the board is fucking annoying, the folk believe i’m wicked and cruel and i have no idea what to do about anything.”

He looks up at you with desperate eyes, “Do you believe I’m truly wicked?”

You shake your head in honesty. “No, honey. I have not met anyone as smart, kindhearted and brave as you. Others do not know you like I do but they should,” you whisper, hands going through his tussled hair. “You’ve been hiding behind your mask for too long, Eris. Let people see the real you.”

The room goes quiet, the only sound being the beating of your hearts.

Slowly his lips meet yours in a new and experimental kiss. He stares up at you with his pupils blown but before you can apologize and get off his lap, he kisses you again and locks his arm around you

“Thank you,” he whispers between heating kisses, “Thank you, beautiful.”

CASSIAN

“Hi there sugar, what can I do for you?” Cassian asks sweetly as he flicks your nose with his finger, happy that you ran into his office and immediately plopped down on his lap

“Can you fuck me?” you ask, frustrated with the lack of dick lately.

His eyes widen slightly at your words, then he slowly cracks a handsome smile. “Gods. How inappropriate of you,” he teases, the amusement clear in his voice.

His teasing almost makes you sob. This was totally NOT the time. You almost roll your eyes before realizing he will so not give in if you give him that

“Cassian, i’m begging you. I want, no- need to be fucked. Please, i’m losing hearing in my left ear,” you beg as you get closer and sit in his lap, rubbing your hands all over his chest

He looked incredibly good, almost unfairly so. Cassian’s jaw and chin had grown scruffy in a ruggedly masculine way that made him look older and even more attractive.

A week without seeing him had only heightened your weakness for his body, making you throb.

“Losing hearing? You must be really dying for me, huh? Alright then. I’ll let you ride,” he smirks at you while unbuckling his belt.

He finally fucking let’s you fuck, hitting spots that makes you go fuzzy brained.

You make him promise to never be gone again before going for another ride, satisfied when he breathlessly promises.

LUCIEN

There is not a bigger shit-talking couple in Prythian than you two

One look between you two is enough.

Someone’s being annoying? You share an annoyed glance. Someone’s being rude? You share a baffled glance. Something’s juicy’s happening? You share a glance that says you will so talk about it when you get home.

“— and he has the audacity to two-time her? He’s lucky to find even one person willing to date him,” you gossip, lounging in Lucien’s lap, your voice dripping with disbelief.

“You’re not going to believe this, but this isn’t his first time. He did that to Tamlin’s cousin too,” Lucien adds, his tone filled with incredulity.

“No way,” you gasp in disbelief, shaking your head as the gossip sinks in.

“Yeah, apparently this guy fucks around in all courts and cheats on anyone willing to stomach. What a fucking loser, honestly,” Lucien nods in agreement, disdain evident in his voice. “The sick bastard gets off on it.”

“That reminds me, guess what I heard about Rhys in Rita’s yeaterday,” Lucien prompts, leaning in with a sly grin, clearly ready to share some gossip.

“Some males and females were talking about Rhys, saying he's replaced Feyre with a clone,” Lucien whispers, his tone laced with disdain. “And get this— they think her transformation from human to fae is fake and that there is no way she could possibly be the mother of Nyx.”

“A clone? They’ll say anything these days,” you exclaim, raising an eyebrow incredulously.

“That's exactly what I'm saying! They're probably just making shit up out of thin air,” Lucien replies, nodding in agreement.

“I wouldn't put it past them,” you say, shaking your head as you reach for a biscuit, happy to be sitting and gossiping with your love.

AZRIEL

Azriel loves when you sit on his lap.

It makes him feel safe and relaxed knowing you're close to him.

It's something he does every day when he comes home - having you in his lap. Sometimes you both sit quietly, other times you talk or fuck or cuddle, depending on how you’re feeling.

Azriel especially likes the fuck part.

He loves the part where you sit on his lap while he works. If you’re good, he’ll bend you over his desk and fuck you. If not, he still fucks you but he does it with no mercy

He makes you sit on his dick and tells you not to move and inch or you will be edged for hours, not being allowed to cum once

Fucking torture is what it is honestly

“Stop moving around so much, i can’t focus.”

“Do you blame me? You’ve buried your dick in me, of course i’m moving. Maybe do something about that.”

He raises his eyebrows at your snarky comment. If it’s something he didn’t need today it was sass.

His day was quite shitty and all he needed was his sweet mate who would kiss away his problems and take his dick perfectly

Azriel smiled slightly as he put his pen down. He would take out his frustrations on you today.

“You want to be fucked? Let’s fuck,” he says in a low tone

In the end, all his papers are scattered, all pens on the floor.

He is relaxed and all smiley while you’re on death’s door💗

[chansaw]

i read donald sutherland’s letter to gary ross pleading for the role of president snow and was so struck by his eloquence, wit, and humor. i’m posting it in full below. what a loss </3

Dear Gary Ross:

Power. That's what this is about? Yes? Power and the forces that are manipulated by the powerful men and bureaucracies trying to maintain control and possession of that power?

Power perpetrates war and oppression to maintain itself until it finally topples over with the bureaucratic weight of itself and sinks into the pages of history (except in Texas), leaving lessons that need to be learned unlearned.

Power corrupts, and, in many cases, absolute power makes you really horny. Clinton, Chirac, Mao, Mitterrand.

Not so, I think, with Coriolanus Snow. His obsession, his passion, is his rose garden. There's a rose named Sterling Silver that's lilac in colour with the most extraordinarily powerful fragrance — incredibly beautiful — I loved it in the seventies when it first appeared. They've made a lot of offshoots of it since then.

I didn't want to write to you until I'd read the trilogy and now I have so: roses are of great importance. And Coriolanus's eyes. And his smile. Those three elements are vibrant and vital in Snow. Everything else is, by and large, perfectly still and ruthlessly contained. What delight she [Katniss] gives him. He knows her so perfectly. Nothing, absolutely nothing, surprises him. He sees and understands everything. He was, quite probably, a brilliant man who's succumbed to the siren song of power.

How will you dramatize the interior narrative running in Katniss's head that describes and consistently updates her relationship with the President who is ubiquitous in her mind? With omniscient calm he knows her perfectly. She knows he does and she knows that he will go to any necessary end to maintain his power because she knows that he believes that she's a real threat to his fragile hold on his control of that power. She's more dangerous than Joan of Arc.

Her interior dialogue/monologue defines Snow. It's that old theatrical turnip: you can't 'play' a king, you need everybody else on stage saying to each other, and therefore to the audience, stuff like "There goes the King, isn't he a piece of work, how evil, how lovely, how benevolent, how cruel, how brilliant he is!" The idea of him, the definition of him, the audience's perception of him, is primarily instilled by the observations of others and once that idea is set, the audience's view of the character is pretty much unyielding. And in Snow's case, that definition, of course, comes from Katniss.

Evil looks like our understanding of the history of the men we're looking at. It's not what we see: it's what we've been led to believe. Simple as that. Look at the face of Ted Bundy before you knew what he did and after you knew.

Snow doesn't look evil to the people in Panem's Capitol. Bundy didn't look evil to those girls. My wife and I were driving through Colorado when he escaped from jail there. The car radio's warning was constant. 'Don't pick up any young men. The escapee looks like the nicest young man imaginable'. Snow's evil shows up in the form of the complacently confident threat that's ever-present in his eyes. His resolute stillness. Have you seen a film I did years ago? 'The Eye of the Needle'. That fellow had some of what I'm looking for.

The woman who lived up the street from us in Brentwood came over to ask my wife a question when my wife was dropping the kids off at school. This woman and her husband had seen that movie the night before and what she wanted to know was how my wife could live with anyone who could play such an evil man. It made for an amusing dinner or two but part of my wife's still wondering.

I'd love to speak with you whenever you have a chance so I can be on the same page with you.

They all end up the same way. Welcome to Florida, have a nice day!

sourced from this article

[venmondiese]

SECRET TEAMWORK

a request from my lovely @slytherincursebreaker ♡ thank you so much!

Summary: Having a non-commited relationship with Aemond is hard, but as you find yourself pregnant, it might just be harder.

✧Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, MENTIONS OF ABORTION, p in v sex, pregnant sex, dom and sub undertones, fingering, boss/secretary adventure, slight degradation kink, slight praise kink. ✧Word Count: 6.02k

Aemond placed his own hand around your mouth, to keep your little squeals and moans away. Your pencil skirt all the way up to your hips, it was almost funny, as Aemond kept you seated atop of one of the broken tables in the storage room of the building. 

“A-Aemond!” You press your hands on his chest, moving the hand on your mouth. “You are… going to be late!” You whine.

“Let them wait” he says softly, his hand pressing against your mouth as his right hand is between your legs, tormenting you as he likes.

He is knuckles deep in your pussy, and he watches your expression as you mewl, holding on his shoulders for dear life. This is probably one of the things he enjoys most in life; tormenting you to his delight. Having you drool and moan like a wanton whore, and how your cheeks get red from the effort to be quiet. 

Your pussy might be one of his favourite things, how warm and wet it is for him. Gives him a sense of power as he knows that he can have you melting on his arms just by fingering you. 

He knows the effort you put to look nice, your face of makeup, your hairstyle, your little outfit. He loves to mess it all up. If it wasn’t for the presentation with affiliates of the company of his family, he’d probably be fucking you with no problem.

But he cannot risk not being presentable as he is the main speaker during the conference. He has a lot of things to explain, and he prefers not risking his image. 

“Shh, shh, moaning like the little whore you are” he says, smirking, as he tries not to allow any little scream to get out loudly. “Come on, baby, delight me. Cum on my fingers” he says, saying sweet nothings in your ear along with it. 

Your big nervous eyes, looking at him as he covers your mouth, is a sight that he doesn’t want to forget, truly.

He is hard, and he hates how he can’t do anything about it. He just looks at you and tries to give you all the pleasure he can’t get. 

“Wanna show me your little moans, baby?” He asks as you nod, and he can picture your pout as your eyebrows go up in a needy way. 

You feel his thumb, going in circles around your clit. It is probably the most delightful thing he does, because it is always precise and pleasurable, as if he has perfected his technique to be at its very best.

Your grip on his shoulders, as he liberates your mouth from his palm, and you let out a sob of pleasure, trying not to scream so loudly, because if you did so, it was over for you and him.

He relishes himself in the little moans and whimpers, in the way your pussy clenches around his three fingers, and he kisses your lips; his hand on the back of your neck is firm, keeping you in place as he kisses and plays with your tongue. 

“Open your mouth” he whispers, and you look up to him, knowing exactly what he is up to. 

You love how he can dominate you so easily. Most men had to make an effort to try to look dominant. Aemond had it naturally. 

He spits on your mouth, making sure to look at you as it falls on your tongue, and the way your pussy clenches as you swallow.

Gods, you are soaking wet. He knows you are close by how loudly your wet pussy sounds as he fingers you, and the little mewls you let out as you press your forehead on his shoulder lets him know that you are losing composure, and your legs are becoming numb.

“I need it, you know that… Give me good luck, baby…” he says softly, and as you let out a loud moan, your thighs squeezing his hand, he leans down to capture your lips on his.

He knows how you need tenderness after cumming. You are prone to become sensible, and more these days, when you always need reassurance. 

He kisses you, sloppy and a bit urged, but not too messy. His tongue makes its own way on your mouth, and he can feel how you are trying to keep up as you let out a muffled loud moan, and he can feel how your walls involve his fingers as you cum.

As you rest your forehead on his shoulder, he takes his fingers out, just to suck them to enjoy your taste, even if it is just a bit. It drives him wild, but he has to restrain himself and nothing makes him more frustrated. 

He rubs your back, as you pant loudly, holding the edge of the broken table, which luckily didn’t break further. He moves to watch the hour on his expensive clock, and he still has twenty five minutes to arrive. He sighs, knowing that he cannot put it on hold any longer.

“We have to go” he says softly, and you whine, not wanting to. 

He moves a bit back, and you let your head fall down as you try to relax your breathing. He makes you lean slightly back, your hands hesitantly going back on the table to hold your weight. 

He moves your panties, which he moved and made sure they remained on the side, so it doesn’t bother his work. He places himself between your legs, as he looks down and both of his hands move to accommodate your panties gently, without a hurry. His fingers tentatively caress your clit, but don't press their luck. 

“Come on. We can go to the bathroom and get presentable again” he whispers, grabbing your hand, pulling you to your feet. 

The heels you wear are probably uncomfortable, and he sighs, suppressing the urge to roll his eye. He pulls down your carefully ironed pencil skirt, and he tries to make it presentable again. 

“You didn’t bring other heels?” He asks softly.

“No” you murmurs, looking at him with tired eyes.

“Gods, woman.” He says rolling his eye “I am going to start to buy you comfortable shoes and leave them in my office, so you don’t have to wear those things”

“It is protocol” you say looking at him, as he takes your purse and hangs it on your shoulder.

“I am the boss. If I want you to walk around naked or in pyjamas, it is my call to make” he states softly, and he leans to kiss your cheek lovingly. “Come on” 

He grabs your hand, and you follow him quietly, as he makes sure no one is around as you two walk, hand in hand to the bathroom.

He goes into the men’s bathroom and you to the opposite.

He is quite meticulous, and so your appearance isn’t messy or ruined. If something, you look exhausted. You reapply your red lipstick, and put a bit more mascara. Not too much, you don’t wanna look vulgar either.  

You place some loose hairs back into position, and accommodate your clothes again. You sigh, looking at yourself in the mirror.

The secretary and her boss. You think, as you press your lips together, nibbling the inside of your mouth. 

Once you go out, Aemond was outside waiting for you, using his phone to probably answer some texts. 

“Ready” you say, and he looks flawless once again. If he had an erection, there is no trace of it. He is truly surprising, like a little box of mysteries.

“Let’s go then” he says as he looks at you, hesitating before walking away and pressing the elevator button.

The way to the auditorium is silent. He checks his phone, and you check the little agenda where you write down everything he has to do. 

“Westeros' investors group will be here” you remind him. “And so will the Yi Ti’s empresarial boss, as you know…”

“Uh huh” he agrees. “Will my half sister…?”

“Yes. Rhaenyra will make her appearance as the heir of…”

“Don’t”

So you don’t. “Edyr Karstark will be as well” as the lift doors open, he walks out and you follow him. “Coryanne Dayne and Morgan Martell as well, from Dorne…”

You walk with him as he stops, and you see his mother and grandfather waiting for him at the door. 

Aemond looks at them, sighing. He turns to you, and you have to take a moment to move your gaze away from them.

You see the posture of Alicent straighten as she looks at you, as if squinting her eyes slightly. She holds her arms, her green dress is elegant and she looks intimidating. Otto Hightower makes no effort to hide his disgust, and he looks at you as if his eyes could throw daggers at you.

“Don’t mind them” he whispers to you “They just…”

“Hate me” you finish for him, accepting the fact.

“They… It’s just complicated”

“I am the whore who lies with my boss for his money.” You say the words that his family thinks but never say out loud. 

“You are not… You are more than that” he says softly. 

You walk behind him, as he goes to greet them. You always follow him everywhere, most of the time. You take care of the tiny details of his work life that he didn't care about. Learning names in meetings, learning the interest of the people to help him. Reminding him of his busy schedule.

“Aemond” his mother greets him, a kiss on both sides of his cheeks.

You two becoming closer was just natural, you’d told your friends. You two were single, and you spent more time with him than in your own home. And otherwise. 

It was not long ago when his sister and brother found out about you two, and so his mother knew naturally, and so did his father, grandfather, half sister… It scared you to death.

Alicent had talked to you about quitting, how easier it would be than a scandal. You never could realise if she was saying this from the goodness of her heart or to keep you away from his prestigious son. 

Otto Hightower was more direct, as he presented you with a letter of dismissal, which Aemond had to defend you. It was embarrassing, but you just… liked him, to endure his odd family.

“Hello, miss” Alicent says, and Otto greets you as well. You force a smile, and nod a quick greeting to her. “They are all waiting for you” she murmurs, and looks at him. “Your father has come for this, as well”

“Ah” he says, you can see how his mouth turns down in disgust. 

“It is well prepared” Otto adds “It is fine work. If your project is approved, those months in Yi Ti will be all for you” 

You look at your hands at the reminder. You won’t be going along, and it was a bit odd. On purpose, if even. But you have never said it outloud, less to Aemond, because it was truly an amazing project.

 “If you could bring me a glass of water…?” He asks you, and you nod. 

You walk to the presentation table, looking at the people around, chatting and greeting, no one really watches you. You take some of the bottles and pour it down in a glass for him, walking to the door, as you almost stumble against Alicent and Otto. 

“I wanted to thank you” Alicent says, and you stop a bit confused, looking at her. “He wouldn’t have done it so smoothly. You two do a great teamwork” 

It is half a compliment, you guess. She is trying, at least to be cordial. “Thank you”

You are quick to escape, and you watch Aemond at the door waiting for you. He doesn't seem too nervous, he never reveals his feelings so easily.

“Thank you” he says, in a softer voice. Drinking a bit of water, leaning out to see the people inside “I’ll remember those names you said. Any particular… thing you recommend me to say?”

You look at him, and say “Well, a greeting is much more welcomed than just starting speaking.” He looks back at you, and he nods softly “And look at them in the eyes”

“It is them who don’t see me in the eye.” He says trying to be funny.

“I am serious” your lips curl up, and add “Don’t be nervous. No one here knows more about it than you. And try not to fight” 

“You know me too well, for my disgrace” he says smiling. “How do you feel about that great bonus in your next check?” He asks slightly amused.

“Feels like the Gods have take mercy on my soul” 

You move to take a little lint on his shoulder, dangerously close in public. He isn’t one for public displays of affection, less with you. 

Perhaps that’s why his mother and family disapproved more than if you two were something. You were his secretary, and him your boss. Not partners, no compromise. 

It makes you anxious, sometimes. How could you even ask him? Not that he would take advantage of his power position over you. It wasn’t about asking your boss what exactly you two were. It was about asking him, Aemond Targaryen, what he truly felt about you. 

You could find another job, but you couldn’t find another him, another Aemond. 

“You’ll do fine. I made sure there is water, and those mint sweets” you tell him. “The control of the presentation is ready, and there are no cables for you to stumble on. The table is seated so your blind spot doesn’t face the public. It is rotated so you can read the presentation as well, so don’t worry.” 

Aemond looks at you, looking inside for a moment before wrapping one arm around your body, pulling you both out of sight as he leans to kiss you passionately, for a few seconds.

You kiss him back, if anything a bit surprised about his bold action. As he pulls away, he is quick to recomposture himself, and smirk. 

“I don’t have lipstick on?” 

“No…”

“Good” he says with a smirk. “Go and take a seat. You have earned it” 

With that, he walks inside. You blink, a bit flustered and surprised. When you look inside, you see Alicent Hightower watching you, all tense up, sitting next to her husband, who is talking to Rhaenyra. She saw you. 

You were about to be sick. You turn around as a gag comes out of you, covering your mouth, yet you don’t feel the disgusting feeling of something coming up your throat. Perhaps because you have not eaten anything today.

You try to act normally, as you walk to sit at the side of the window, looking at the cars in the street passing by, as you hear how the conference is to start. 

“Where is he, again?” 

 “Probably Yi Ti right now” you say, sitting on the kitchen counter as Amanda prepares the lasagna. 

“And he got funds for this? Like his rich family couldn’t just… allow him to borrow money?”

“Doesn’t work like that” you say amused. 

“Ha. I know” Amanda says, chuckling. She was one of your ex coworkers, and you used to have lunch with her everyday, before she quit for a better job. “How is he?”

“In what sense?” you ask, looking at your margarita yet you haven’t drink any of it yet, too occupied in the chatting.

“Happy, I mean. I don’t think I have ever seen him… Happy. Or smile. Have you?”

“Yeah” you say smiling at how silly that question is. “Duh.” You say rolling your eyes. 

Amanda turns on the furnace as she waits for it to get a bit hot before putting the lasagna, and she looks at you. 

“And did his family was there? His mum? The Alicent Hightower?”

“All of them. Viserys, Alicent, Otto, even Rhaenyra. Helaena went for moral support” you say chuckling. 

“And what about the mistress?” she asks, raising an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes.

“Alys Rivers?” You ask her. “I think she was there…”

You try to shrug it off, but it boils your blood the thought of her. More with her story with Aemond, how intimate they had been. It makes you gag.

“Oh, it burns you from the inside!” She giggles, and she places the lasagna inside the oven. “Is the Margarita good? I haven’t tried it…” she asks, moving across the kitchen to take a sip. 

“I will try it…” you say, moving your straw around, and you are hit by the hard scent of alcohol.

“It is good for a drink bought in the supermarket, you know? I waited for…”

“I am going to throw up” you say standing up from the seat, as you make your way to the bathroom of her house.

Aemond has been gone for maybe two weeks at this point, and you keep on gagging at smells, of any disgusting kind. There were only four things you relished on; the smell of the mints that Aemond liked, gasoline, hot dogs and coffee. 

Throwing up is not nice; the first time is because of the sickness, and the rest is purely out of disgust for the vomit. 

You wash your mouth, and try not to leave her bathroom with the scent. Once you come back, you see that Jasper, her fianceé, has arrived.

“Are you okay?” Amanda asks, as she walks over to you. “You love Margaritas, are you not sick? Oh! Is that restaurant where you went with Aemond to the triumph meal?” 

He made you accompany him, with his family and associates, to a dinner that his grandsire organised, in an expensive restaurant, after the triumph of having his project accepted and founded. You vomited all the food at night, probably because of the lobster. 

“It was over two weeks ago” you say, shaking your head. “I always get sick when I am about to get my period. Being irregular has its disadvantages ” 

“Oh, I get that feeling” she chuckles, going back to the kitchen as her finaceé is drinking her margarita.

You stand still for a few moments, and you realise the possibility. Probably the reality, as you had all the symptoms... it made total sense, and you stood frozen as you realised.

You were pregnant.

It is two months later when Aemond comes back. Half of his project has been completed, a total success. But his business in Yi Ti was more than done, and the oriental atmosphere was too much for a Westerosi man like him. 

He was not surprised with your resignation letter as he came back to the office, which was why you wouldn’t answer any of his texts or calls. Three weeks into his journey, he got your resignation letter, accepted by his grandsire, which only needed his signature. 

He called, and called. And nothing. You probably ghosted him, and he called Helaena to check on you. He didn’t trust his mother or grandsire. 

According to his sister, you just needed to let go of some things of the past as you realised you had more ambitions than being a secretary. 

On Friday, he is in your apartment. The building was old, and it had barely four floors, and you lived at the end of it. He has stayed in your apartment once or twice, but mostly he just passed when he dropped you off.

Luckily, he comes at the time where the old lady of the first floor is getting inside with all the supermarket bags.

“Let me help you” Aemond says as the lady is struggling between managing the heavy bags and opening the door. 

“Oh, thank you, young lad” the woman says, as he takes all the bags from her arms. He enters first, and waits for her to walk, very slowly.

The woman opens the second glass door to enter the building, and she stops at the mailbox, checking for her apartment number.

“You want me to grab yours too?” The sweet lady asks, and Aemond hesitates.

“Uh, sure. Thank you” he says, and in the silence he realises he has to say the number “41” he remembers the number of your apartment, and the lady grabs the mail for today. 

They make an exchange, where he leaves the bags in her house, and she gives him the mail. She is sweet and Aemond has a smile as he has to go all the way up to the fifth floor. 

He is not one to spy, but you have a lot of mail. Mostly about some subscriptions you made, he is curious to see if you have anything from your new job. 

He stops, mid stairs as he watches the pink envelope.  A woman’s choice. 

He hesitates a bit, before he pulls out his phone. He remembers that. Helaena and Rhaenyra both made a contribution for that clinic, didn’t they? It was the woman’s building of the hospital in Visenya’s Hill. He walks slowly upstairs, he is midway the third floor, as he walks up slowly. 

He searches for the name of the clinic, and he hates how bad the signal is. He sees the three dots moving, loading the page slowly. 

His stomach drops as he reads. Pregnancy termination clinic.

He doesn’t understand anything. 

He stands frozen, with phone on one hand as he holds the envelope behind. His mind is racing. He knows you are not subscribed to it just because. He hasn’t heard in months about you, and he doesn’t know what to conclude about this information. 

It feels an eternity before he knocks on your door. Once. Twice. Nothing.

He doesn’t hear the wood crack under your weight. It was painfully obvious when someone stepped on it, he remembers one time when he dropped you at your house, drunk, and you both laughed at how silly it sounded at every step you both took. 

He missed you, he realises. Scratch that. He knew that he missed you, but not that much for his heart to ache like that at the memory. He misses you. He feels incomplete. 

You open the door, obviously expecting anyone but him. 

You are wearing a black hoodie, using a face mask, probably orange scented. You always made sure to be well looking  in the sense that you took care of your appearance. 

You look different. He blinks slowly, as he looks at you, frozen in his place. He isn’t normally so stiff, he is usually more straightforward, a man of business. 

“Aem– Mr. Targaryen” you say, a bit surprised. The way you refer to him stings.“You are back. To what I owe the pleasure?” 

It is at the same time that you realise that he was holding your mail, as his eye trails down to your hidden stomach. Your clothes are too big to realise, which only makes him more confused, and suspicious. He can’t see anything to confirm, but it is unusual, you don't like to wear these kinds of clothes.

“You… quit” he says, dumbfounded.

“Yes. Nothing personal” you say tapping your fingers on the door. You were anxious. “I am sorry if it came at a bad time.”

He looks at you, as the lie comes naturally to you. 

“Can I come in?” 

Your place is a bit messier. He knows something is up. You move your hands to take off that stupid face mask, and your face is all shiny from it.

“I am not really… I was not expecting… visitors”

He was more than a visitor, and you knew it. You missed him. He looks as handsome as you remembered. You didn’t go to the airport, but you kissed him farewell in his office. 

“Are you��� pregnant?” 

You blink at your boss. At your something. At your baby daddy. At Aemond Targaryen.

He can see the little panic in your eyes, and he lets a scared sigh. He covers his mouth as he looks at the side.

“I should have been with you” he says regretfully, and his heart feels at the floor. “I was away, and you…. You should have been so…” he doesn’t know if it is useful to say it, it was probably traumatic to you. “Forgive me. If there is anything…”

You hear his heartbroken words, still holding the door as you blink. “ thank you…” 

“We are still a team” he says, looking at you. “We… we always had been. I would have dropped everything to be with you at that moment” 

He looks at you, so calm and collected. He feels like losing his mind, and he feels pure guilt. He wants to ask you. Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you? He knows it is selfish to ask, but it was also his mistake. He would have helped you, held your hand and all of it. He would have been prepared, read about it, to comfort you in the grief, all of it.

“And forgive me for… spying on your mail, I just wanted to see if you had a new job…” he says, extending the mail, embarrassed and vulnerable. You have never seen him like this, it is almost scary.

You take the mail, and you see the pink envelope first, among the white ones. It was atop, and you looked at him.

“Maybe you should get inside” you say, moving to let him in. 

He sits on the couch, and you sit by his side. The silence was crushing, and so you speak.

“I should have told you..”

“I understand-”

“Let me speak” you say, and he shuts up. He looks at you, and you keep talking. “I… I didn’t get an abortion, Aemond” you say softly, looking at him, at how his expression changes, trying to get the words in. 

“What?”

“I just… It was an option. I was… I was scared. I am still, a bit. But… I want this baby” you admit softly, not looking directly at him, as you so shyly admit your feelings to him.

He is confused. “You… You didn’t?”

“No…”

He leans back on the couch, breathing hard at the realisation. He might faint, he has gone through many emotions in little time.

“So you are…”

“Still pregnant. Very much” you confirm, and he lets out a sigh. “And… you are the father”

Aemond bites his lips on the inside of his mouth, and he looks at the ceiling, passing a hand over his face. 

“Oh” 

“Yeah…” you say, at how stiff he is. “Three months and a half.” 

As you stand to grab your wallet, he thinks. Three months and a half back, it was probably the time when he had so much work left, that he fucked you in his office. Or was it the time where you two fucked over the cabin? 

“Here” you say showing him the ecography picture. 

In the middle of the black part of the ecography, he could see the curled up little figure. He looks at it, as if it would disappear if he moved his gaze away. It is wonderfully diminutive, yet it fills him with pride, seeing something so little that makes him feel so many things. 

He missed it. It was the most important ultrasound, and he missed it. He wasn’t there to hold your hand either, when you took all the exams to determine any genetic syndrome. He should have been, right at your side, to be part of it as well.

“It is… wonderful” he says, with a small chuckle. “You think, I could… get a copy?”

It is the subtle confirmation that you didn’t expect. He wanted this, as you did. You never talked about having kids, less so when you were never anything serious. 

“Keep it” you say softly. “I already took like hundreds of copies, you can keep it.” 

It is a surprise that he sobs, and he looks at the image. 

“You… Oh, gods..” he says, feeling utterly hopeless as he watches the little paper. He is going to be a dad, it was so… odd. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have left..”

“I didn’t either” you say. 

He looks at the image, he doesn’t even cry on purpose, just some tears falling naturally. His thumb moves to caress the paper, as if it was a soothe for him and the baby.

“You quit, how are you… affording all of…?” He makes a gesture. Everything, he wants to say, but he doesn’t want to be invasive.

“I have a part time job at a friend’s coffee shop.” You say with a nod “And a fair bit of savings” 

He looks at you, shaking his head as he feels his tears dry. He was thinking so many things. He is going to be a dad. He has not contributed anything. He has to take care of you. And the baby. He has to help you. He was going to be a dad.

“you shouldn’t have quit. It was a stable, good paid job, and the office has great maternity leaves.” 

“And would they give me more months because my boss is my baby daddy?” You ask, not from malice, but he bites his lip.

“They told you to quit, didn’t they?”

“Nobody told me” you assure him.

“They paid you.” 

“They didn’t. I wouldn’t have accepted it”

“Why didn’t you tell me, then?” He asks, almost heartbroken.

You look at him, nervous, and you don’t dare to look him in the eye. “I did the maths, Aemond. You didn’t seem the type to… you know. Compromise” 

He looks at you. It was right. He wasn’t one to show his emotions. It was probably the first time someone saw him cry, since he was like twelve, and he always made sure to keep a distance between him and the rest.

“I am not.” He says softly, looking at the image, and he sighs. “But… you and I are a family” he says, licking his lips. “and we will always be a family, with… them” he adds, pointing with a tilt to the ecography.

It is a haunting truth, that you knew. You’ll always be bound to Aemond. A scary thought. 

“We will. But I want to know, what are we?” You finally ask him. Decisively, you need to know. 

“You have my body and soul” He admits softly, and he bites his lip. “Both of you. I am committed to you two…, always. Always, of course. There is no one else I want, that I choose.”

You truly don’t know how or when you end up in his lap, kissing softly as he holds you on it. It is different from his dominant demeanour. 

He is almost rewarding you with caresses and kisses, holding you gently. He would do anything you ask him to, and he is so afraid to lose you two. He almost did, both of you, and he doesn’t want it to happen ever. 

He holds you as if you were fragile, and to this moment you are; he holds both of his most precious things, and you carry his baby.

“I am not going to break” you say against his mouth, pressing a little tighter. “I need you” you add, your hot breath on his mouth as his hands presses in your back.

“I need you too” he admits, as he accommodates on the sofa to hold you. “Here or on the bed?” 

“Wherever…”

The bed it is.

He held you all the way there, which was not a long way either, but it is good to be in your bedroom, where it smells like you, and some strange mint scent that reminds him of the mints he eats.

“Look at you, baby” he says as he takes off your clothes, eagerly, and desperate. “So beautiful as always, dripping wet for me” he says, and you blush slightly from his compliments. “aren’t you?”

“yes. i am”

“how am i even going to go on with my work when you are not there to indulge me a bit?” He asks, as he is the one to desperately take off his clothes, as you lean against the pillows, watching him. “When the idea of leaning you on my desk was enough to make me finish all of it quickly, and call you to my office.” 

He accommodates behind you, both of you laying as he kisses your shoulder, and then your nape, and leaves soft love bites, not meant to last long.

“But now you’ll just wait for me at home, hm? In my own bed, all for me” he says and you search his lips and share a sloppy, messy and wet kiss, needy and primal. 

You missed him. You needed him. 

The pregnancy hormones drove you insane. And missing Aemond was something your little babe was sure to make you feel it at all times. 

“Yes, yes, I need you inside” you feel his hand, moving to wrap your waist, and he moves behind you, holding your leg with his other hand. 

He cannot wait to see you heavily pregnant. You have a little belly, which is adorable. He supposes that, as he was, the baby will be small too. 

But he craves for when you’ll need his help to do anything. And he’ll delight himself in it.

“you missed me?”

“So much” you turn your head, for your arm to be around his neck. It is probably a twisted position, but he is not one to complain. 

His lips capture yours as his cock finally slides into you, you moan against his mouth, and his grip on your body tightens a bit. He is going insane.

He is ruthless at every thrust he gives you, and you surely are more tender at each movement of his cock in your pussy. The time apart, or your hormones, he didn’t care, as he immerses himself in pleasure. 

“So big” you moan against his mouth, and his hot breath hits your mouth as well. “I love it”

“I love you too” he says, his face nuzzling your cheek as he doesn’t think too much about what he just said, and just focuses on the way your cunt clenched around him, warm and soaked, a very warm welcome.

He holds you as precious as you were to him, but firmly, tightly. His hips swing as his cock moved and makes it’s way in your pussy, the little way his cock throbs inside, leaking the precum inside. 

“You already marked me. Everyone will know that i am yours– so fucking yours…”

The thought makes him moan. He always loved that, making you go out of his office full of hickeys and love bites, sending you back to your desk all flustered and shaky.

“Hm, you love that, don’t you? They can’t fuck you like I do” he adds smugly, as he presses open mouthed kisses on your neck.

You moan as his fingers search your clit, and are quick to find it, and he groans at how receptive you have become.

“I’ll fuck you so hard, baby. So, so hard” he promises, for the future. For now, he just needs you. “Such a good girl. Always a good girl” 

The way you squirm, and your whimpers drive him into release as well. Your legs always do that thing that he knows very fondly, they shake and your muscles tense up when you are cumming, in a very certain way. It is almost always the same, and he has grew to find it endearing, everytime he fucks you he waits for that moment. 

He thinks he is much simpler, he holds you closer to him, as if forcing you to remain there, as his balls tighten and he cocks throbs before cumming deep inside. He lets out a loud groan, rolling his eye back as he holds you. 

The way you two remain naked, yet laying together it is something he never does usually. With you, a few times. He always tends to you, and made sure you were relaxed. But you never did pillowtalk after it, you usually were exhausted and he was tired too. 

“You know what? It is almost unfair” he says, moving to search his pants.

“Oh?” You ask curiously, as your eyes follow his frame. You don't get what he means exactly, but you wait for him to elaborate.

“I brought you a present. Well, I brought two things–” he finds it in his pocket and extends it to you, and you smile upon the realisation.

“oh, Aemond…” you say looking at the bracelet, and you smile at him. “It must have been… so expensive”

“It is your favourite colour” He points out “Isn't it?”

You nod, as he moves to leave it in your nightstand, just to pull you closer to him. 

“You have given me more… expensive gift” he adds, moving to your side again, and he wraps his arm around your waist, leaving one of his hand to rest atop of your belly, firm and growing. “Thank you”

You see the gratitude in his eye, and you smile softly. “Well, to be fair it is a product of very extensive teamwork…”  

“It truly is, hm?” He asks, smiling as he moves to your side again. “We truly do make an remarkable team”

[penkura]

OP Men Holding Their Firstborn for the First Time

Note: This is in relation to my post of headcanons for these five men and their children. I just started thinking of which ones of them will cry, who will freak out over holding a tiny baby, who may reject the thought at first. And it came to this lol. I think the next one in this series will be names for the kids or babies taking their first steps! The baby fever is strong help. For now, please enjoy these men being soft about their offspring!

Ace almost has a heart attack when you try to pass your daughter to him, he swears he felt his heart jump into his throat when you ask if he wants to hold her, saying no that he's fine for now, but you insist he should. He doesn't do so for several hours, instead watching you with her as he works up the courage to have her in his arms.

What if my powers activate and I burn her? What if she cries and kicks? Oh lord, what I drop her??

"Ace, please. You need to hold her."

The look on your face, like you're begging him to hold her, finally makes Ace agree, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed to take your hours old daughter from you. You remind him to be careful of her head, make sure to support her, and smile when you finally get to see the two loves of your life together at last.

She doesn't fuss or cry or kick, instead staying fast asleep and seeming like she's snuggling into the warmth Ace radiates thanks to his Devil Fruit powers. He's just amazed by her, her tiny little nose and the beautiful, dark eyelashes that brush her chubby little cheeks. She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen after you of course.

Ace fights not to cry but can't help the few tears that sneak out, wiping them away on his sleeve quickly, the one time he wears a shirt and it's the day you give birth to the newest love of his life.

Gosh, he always knew you were amazing. Now you've given him a family of his own, how could he ever repay you?

"Thank you for her...she's so perfect."

Ace can't seem to tear his eyes away from your daughter's little face, and that's okay with you. She's his baby too, he needs to have some time with her.

"What do you think we should name her, Ace?"

Oh. Oh crap, she does need a name huh?

~~

Law doesn't even have a chance to think about it, he's holding your son immediately after birth since he was the one to help you deliver obviously. Once your baby boy is wrapped in a towel Law hands him right to you before checking to make sure you're doing all right. Your vitals are all normal and stable, he's relived that you're both fine, while he watches you talk to your crying newborn.

You tell him that it doesn't count that he held your son right away since he's your and the boy's doctor, eventually getting Law to sit down and actually hold him as his father instead. Your son kept fussing and crying until Law finally got to hold him, the newborn quieting after a few moments but keeping his eyes shut tight and his little hands in fists as he kept whining.

Once he finally opens his eyes to stare up at Law, it's probably the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life apart from Bepo.

Especially once you catch sight of a few tears in Law’s eyes, making you smile softly as you lean back to just watch them. He's quick to rub at his eyes and make them stop, but the few sniffles you hear every bit tell you he's trying to stop himself from looking like a bigger baby than your literal baby he's holding.

He's never actually held a baby so tiny, not since Lammy was born. And to know this is his son, it's crazy to think about while he watches your baby boy start to fall asleep.

He really does wish his parents, sister, and Cora-san were there. They'd all love to meet your son, and you know he's thinking that, but you hope realizes that all the Heart Pirates are going to love your little boy just as much as his family would have.

And that eases the sting a bit, especially when they all do get to meet your son, and not a single one of them is without tears, beyond happy for you and their beloved captain.

~~

Penguin almost begs to hold your daughter once she's born and you're both stable. Law tries to push him away while he takes your daughter's vitals and measurements, asking how on earth you dealt with Penguin being so clingy the last nine months, which just makes you laugh.

"Go sit with your wife, damn it, I'll bring her over in a minute."

"But, captain--"

"Penguin, just come over here for now."

Penguin sits beside your bed and pouts until Law finally brings your daughter over, about to hand her to you before you direct him to your husband. Both ask if you're absolutely sure you want Penguin to hold her first, until you confirm it, and Law hands your daughter to her father, showing him the right away to hold her, before he leaves the three of you alone for a few minutes.

Penguin is absolutely enthralled with her. She's still fussy from being born, stretching out her little arms and legs, making cute little sounds, and he just can't believe she's finally here. He feels like you two waited an eternity for her to be born, now she has been! She's so small, she fits perfectly in his arms and it makes him want to cry so much.

"She's so tiny."

"And she looks just like you, Peng."

~~

Due to you having twins, you hold your son while Sanji holds your daughter, blubbering like the baby girl was because he's just so happy to have these babies with you. It makes you want to laugh hearing him cry, watching him kiss your daughter's forehead to try and calm her down while he dotes on her and you give your son attention.

"You're an angel, a perfect little gift from heaven!"

When you finally swap which baby you're each holding, Sanji still cries, happy to have a son too! He never really thought you'd have twins, or that they'd be fraternal on top of it! Both are so precious to him, you're precious to him, this little family you've now built together.

Your daughter has his hair, but your son looks just like you to Sanji. He kisses your son's forehead before looking at you and your newborn daughter, still unable to believe this is going to be his life from now on. You, and him, and your two tiny blessings.

"I love you so, so much."

He can't wait to call Zeff and let him know the good news.

~~

Zoro has no worries or qualms or tears when holding your son for the first time. Actually, it doesn't hit him for a few hours that he has a child now.

Your son is so quiet most of his first day outside the womb, sleeping and eating, only fussing when he needs something, but you're able to calm him down quickly. The way you're able to do that when this is your first baby impresses Zoro more than anything today.

It's only once you're asleep and he's holding your son again that it really gets to him. There's another person depending on him now, this one being his own flesh and blood, his newborn son that already looks just like him. His hands are so tiny, he's not even able to fully get his little fingers around one of Zoro's fingers.

Chopper made sure you both were left alone for the day, Zoro taking a bed next to yours and laying back with your son on his chest that night. That's when he realized just how small your baby is. His hand covered the newborn's back completely, his tiny hand fisting Zoro's shirt as he slept, small coos and whines coming from him every now and then. Zoro looks at you for a moment, before back to your son with a smile.

Your son may not have been planned, but Zoro's more than accepting of how his life is turning out.

~~

Note 2: I am absolutely willing to elaborate on these men and their children. If anyone wants to see something specific, just send me a message! I'll be posting more of my own thoughts too!