#is whispering in your ear to do war crimes

[elphael]

xavier haunting the narrative by being the catalyst of the entire background event of the setting that shaped every single character's life. xavier haunting the narrative by directly or indirectly being the cause of like almost everyone's trauma. xavier haunting the narrative but the narrative frames you in the worst possible light and that is the only story that is told after you led yourself to ruin.

#liza.txt #obsessed with my tyrant war lord war criminal dude who really sucks and it Is His Fault like. 70% and the other 30% isn't but . #if i keep thinking about how he haunts so much of the narrative i might actually decide to put him BACK in the narrative. #ugh au where instead of killing ur family as ur huge power move to Nothing and sink into absolute Apathy you go get help as soon as Nothing #is whispering in your ear to do war crimes #🏺 #xavier

[peachesofteal]

Black Sun

Simon Riley masterlist

Simon Riley/female reader 5.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Dark and twisty. Explicit sex, dubious consent, forced breeding/pregnancy kink, praise kink, size difference, creampie. Simon is insane about you. Panty sniffing/stealing. Obsessive behavior. Possessive Simon Riley. Alcohol. Reader is prescribed/taking muscle relaxers. Toxic but I think it's sweet. Angst, comfort, emotional hurt/comfort. Tags are for your health, not mine. Simon never wanted a divorce.

Simon does not consider himself a common criminal.

A war criminal, perhaps. The things he’s done for the 141 would put him behind bar in over fifty countries, and on death row in at least eight. The things he’s seen alone make him eligible for life in a padded room, and that’s if you don’t count the things that have happened to him.

But he’s never stooped to petty crime like this before. Before this mess. Before you asked for a divorce, insisted he move out, demanded time apart.

There’s a first time for everything, he thinks. First time for a lot of things, actually. The first time he actively tried to avoid the divorce paperwork, first time he let his obsession take him this far, first time he indulged in his darkest fantasies, things he wouldn’t even dare whisper about to Price-

The door welcomes him like it always does, squeak gone from the hinges, greased out by his hands in the middle of the night last week, swinging wide so he can silently step across the threshold… into his house. Into yours.

Riley whines in greeting, lowering himself into a play bow, and Simon kneels to pet him, rubbing his between the ears and under the chin just how he likes, before instructing him back to his bed, to keep watch. He’d maul another man who tried to step foot in here, per his training, but his dad- his dad is okay. His dad is allowed.

It’s not that he’s too far gone to recognize the complete dismantlement of your boundaries, it’s that he doesn’t care. The chilling fear of losing you has seeped deep into his bones, fostering the growth of a plan that he knows is not rational, or right.

He knows what he is doing is wrong, but he cannot stop himself.

You are his. His wife. His life, his person, his reason for it all. You’re the sun and the moon and the stars and everything that makes this miserable fucking existence worth living.

He’ll do anything to keep you.

Anything.

So, it doesn’t feel wrong when he stands in the bedroom at the foot of his bed, watching you sleep, twisted up in the blankets, favoring your one side like your shoulder must have been bothering you before you fell asleep. It concerns him, worries him, this lack of improvement regarding your pain, and he wonders if maybe you should be in physical therapy.

It doesn’t feel wrong, when he traces the curve of your ass, perked up in the sheets, as if you’re waiting for him to strip your ratty little sleep shorts down to your knees and shove his cock to your cervix. He wonders if you’d even wake up if he rubbed his nose across the seam of your cunt. You’ve always been a heavy sleeper, through thunder or commotion, you’d stay sweet with your lashes flush against your cheeks, mouth slightly open in a soft snore.

He leans over you in bed, stroking the back of your head with his hand before pressing a featherlight kiss to your temple, something he knows won’t stir you, not with you how deep you’re dreaming, and certainly not with the muscle relaxer in your system.

He is a stealth operator, after all. It’s not like he hasn’t been watching, observing your new routines, the changes to your schedules and habits that have appeared over these last few months. The muscle relaxers, for example, that were prescribed for the strain in your neck and shoulder, that you’ve been taking once an evening for a week and a half, around six thirty. They’re extended release, usually able to keep you mostly pain free through the night, and he’s grateful to your doctor for insisting upon them. For more reasons than one.

He gives you another light kiss before pulling the sheet up around your shoulders, tucking you in how you like. You get cold in the middle of the night, icicle toes usually wandering across the mattress to seek the space between his thighs for warmth, shocking him into a gasp that would elicit a string of sleepy giggles from your mouth. He makes sure you’re comfortable, before slinking onto the second part of his routine.

The bathroom.

Every night, he holds his breath as the medicine cabinet pops open. He hates the anticipation, the fear of what he could discover, dreads the idea of having to start the clock over or worse, swap them for placebo. You never disappoint him though, and he catalogues the perfectly color-coded rows of birth control pills that haven’t been touched in over a month, not since his last op with wicked desire hearting his belly. What a good girl you are.

Before, he would have told you the opposite. He did, tell you the opposite. He told you were good, so good, for taking your pills, for making sure that you were safe for him, that there wouldn’t be any accidents. Guilt would eat at him each time the two of you had the argument, the ‘discussion’, about having a baby, and you would cry with misery staining your cheeks.

 “You don’t know what you’re asking of me.” He tried to tell you, dozens of times, that he didn’t think he’d be good at it, that he wouldn’t like being gone so much, leaving you at home all the time with a baby.

“I love you, Simon. I want to have a baby, with you. My husband. Is that so wrong?” You would cry, and he could feel the weight of his choice breaking you apart, the pressure cracking beneath his skull.

“You… you don’t understand. I- I can’t.” 

It’s not why you asked for a divorce, but it certainly played a part.

Something catches his eye when he turns to leave, a wayward item of clothing hanging haphazardly outside of the hamper.

Your underwear.

He plucks the scrap of blue lace and cotton from the edge and balls it into his fist, bringing it to his nose with a deep inhale. It’s sick, the way he needs you, the way the smell of your dirty panties, the honeyed ambrosia of your musk, makes his mouth water like a juvenile. Before he can change his mind, he shoves them in his pocket. He doesn’t usually take things, too aware of potentially tipping you off, but this; this is something he needs.

“Simon, can we please just… can we please just meet up and at least look at these papers?” It’s early for you to be up, on a Saturday, and he frowns at the screen in contemplation. Before, you’d never be up this early. Before, you would have insisted he stay under the covers with you, would have draped your body over his eagerly to convince him, sweetening him to your side with barely a whisper.

“How many weekends do we even get, anyway? This is your first one home in weeks. Stay in bed with me.” And he would, because of course he would. Because there was no place he’d rather be in those moments, curled up in bed, his nose in your hair, watching the rise and fall of your chest just to be sure it was all real, that it wasn’t some cruel dream that would disappear as soon as he woke up.

“You’ve been home for two weeks and haven’t even looked at them.” He grits his teeth, pressing the hard edge of his phone into his cheek. He can’t be divorced if there’s no signature. But you sound exasperated, stressed, and he’s eager to fix it for you, easily agreeing without too much badgering.

“Alright, sweetheart. Alright. I’ll meet you.”

He cannot believe his luck.

You’re nervous. Your hands flitter about, constantly touching the table, the silverware, your sore shoulder, the manilla envelope before finding the stem of your wine glass and tilting it to your lips, swallowing the alcohol over and over without any kind of hesitation. You must not have taken the muscle relaxer. He's well versed in navigating your emotions, calming you into a relaxed state with a few words or a reassuring touch, and he wants to reach out and take your hand in his, soothe you, tell you that everything is alright but… it would serve no purpose for him tonight. Sorry, sweet girl. He sits at the little two top across from you with his arms crossed, watching his lack of interest in the conversation break you down, little by little, until you’re ordering another glass of wine, and then a third, all while he nurses the same glass of bourbon. The alcohol distracts you, strays you from your course, and you eventually stop trying to try talk about that bloody manilla envelope, leaning to one side a little more than the other in your chair. When you order a shot after dinner is over, he doesn’t protest, just watches your tongue follow the seam of the citrus wedge, dabbing along the spongy white fibers before your teeth dig into the flesh of it, lime juice squirting across your tongue.

He loves you drunk. Loves you sober, loves you tired, or grumpy, or smiling. He loves you anyway he can get you, but sometimes, when you’re like this, your smile sweet like sticky toffee, buzzing and humming, it helps him get away from himself, helps him stay present and lost inside you, swept up in you. It makes him think about the honeymoon, your feet buried in the sand, tucked away in secluded cove, no one around for miles. He fucked you on the beach, fucked you in the ocean, fucked you in someone else’s cabana that day, and you giggled the whole time. Pearly pitched music that wrapped in him the strongest feeling of bliss, skin that tasted like brine and sun, your hand in his on the walk back the hotel, peeking under your wide brim hat every few minutes to press his lips to yours.

“Wan’ one?” He shakes his head, but pulls your hand into his, feeling the warmth of your skin. When you don’t pull away, his blood heats, churning through his veins like fire. “Figured.” You sigh, and then flash him a mischievous, coy grin. Cheeky girl. Think you’re so clever. “Want to get out of here?” You croon, and he smiles indulgently behind the mask. “Lead the way.”

You’re giggly, excited when he bends you over the table, the kitchen table where you used to eat together, breakfast for dinner when he’d come home, waffles and bacon at one in the morning.

You don’t protest when he slides your skirt down your hips and over your ass, thumbs spreading you wide to reveal your glistening cunt, twitching and desperate.

“My poor girl, has it been so long?” He coos, relishing in the way you moan with your lips on the wood. He knows it has, knows you haven’t been with anyone since the last time he fucked you, months and months ago, on the night you asked for the divorce. “Shhh. I’m here now, I’m gonna take care of it.”  

“You have to pull out.” You slur, breath hot, fogging against the finish of the table. “Promise.” He grunts something under his breath, nonsense, but you can’t tell the difference, and when he slides inside your scorching cunt, you howl, breath hitching with the stretch.

Bleedin’ Christ. You’re so tight, so wet, soaked enough that it sticks to the curls around the base of his cock. How could he ever give this up? 

“That’s it.” He kisses your shoulder, pressing his chest to your back with his weight, pinning you in place, his hands clamping down around your wrists like shackles. “Squeeze me tight, good girl. Show me-“ Show me how you’re going to hold my come in your tight little pussy once I fill you- comes to mind, but he bites his tongue instead, not willing to tip you off too soon.

To have and to hold. In sickness and in health. For better or worse. 

I promise to love and cherish you. 

Till death does us part.  

Till death. 

“Simooon.” You sing, hips start to push back with him, fucking yourself onto his cock, chasing him, chasing your pleasure, mouth half open with the little pants and whines that are music to his ears. He keeps you pinned, flat against the table, fingers between your legs, stroking your clit, shoving you closer to your orgasm, delightfully pleased by the way your pussy pulses around him.

“Come on.” He urges, big hand between you and the table, pressing against your lower belly, still tapping away at your clit, indulging in the trembling of your legs.

“Fuck- fuck, Si.” You cry, clenching down around him with your orgasm, voice breaking.

“There it is… what a good girl.” He hisses, keeping his pace, pushing deeper and deeper until he’s notching himself nearly inside your womb. It’s overwhelming for you, he knows, but he doesn’t stop swirling his fingers around your clit, zapping electric pulses through body.

“Nngh Si. Too- ooh it’s- it’s too much.” You wail, a tear on your cheek, and he nods, nosing above your ear.

“I know. You’re doing so good for me, so perfect.” It’s whispered with a groan, hands stroking your hip, keeping your steady, in place. “Just need a little more, just- just a little, I’m gonna-“

“What-” You ask, more with it now that you recognize the edge he’s riding, the roughness in his voice clueing you in to where he is, but he sends you back into orbit, pressing your clit and working you in circles. “Oh, oh.” Your hips rock, and he moves with the momentum, fucking into you faster, grunting the truth as he speeds towards the cliff, desperate to drive the car over the edge, eager to change the course of his life, your life, his marriage.

“Take it.” He spits, wide palm spread across your shoulder. Everything in him tightens, fire spreading through his veins, pressure rising in his body like a fucking tea kettle, about to scream out a whistle. He’s going to breed you, fuck you deep with his come and put a baby inside you, give you what you want, what you’ve always said you wanted, the thing that made you cry in the middle of the night when he refused.

Well, he’s going to give it to you now.

“Fuck- here it comes.” You rock again, half lost to the world, eyes glazed over in pleasure, spasming around his cock with your second orgasm. He slams into you, burying deep and you keen, fingers gripping the edge of the table, his hips flush with yours like a lock.

And he’ll throw away the key. 

You blame yourself for the first time.

You blame your nerves. Your lack of self-control. You drank too much, trying to fight the anxiety that was threatening to spill from your mouth by way of your tongue.

  And well, didn’t he just look too fucking good, sitting across from you at dinner. Eyes on your lips. Hand dwarfing the rocks glass. Shoulders broader than a door frame. He put on mass since you saw him last, and you spent half the meal trying not to think about stripping his shirt off so you could inspect for new wounds, new scars, new stretch marks. 

And didn’t he feel so fucking good too, bending you over the kitchen table, sliding into you from behind with almost no prep, hint of pain making you see stars, just the way you like it. Fucking you like the man you married, like the man you fell in love with. Calling you his good girl and making you come all over his cock like a champ. 

You blame him for the second time.

You could blame yourself, for inviting him over- but your intention was clear. Sign the papers. Discuss the house. Be done with it all and close this chapter. Move on with your life, with both your lives.

But he showed up on the wrong day, at the wrong time, with a bottle of your favorite wine, the malbec. The one from your first anniversary, with a large pizza, thin crust with extra cheese (your favorite) and an order of garlic knots.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d eaten or not, figured I’d pick something up, just in case.” He shrugged, and just like that, you were bereft of words, staring at him with nothing coming to mind. Didn’t you say tomorrow? You stood in the door, blinking, Riley whining behind you, already eager to see his dad. “Sweetheart? You feelin’ okay?” His hand was on your arm, warm, thumb rubbing a circle on the inside of your elbow, and even that small amount of contact, that little trickle of concern, sent you into a spiral, muscle relaxer already working its way through your system, slowing your response time, making your brain a little fuzzy. His eyes shimmered in the porchlight, and you nodded, robotically, feet still stuck in the doorway, until he was prompting you to let him inside. “Can I come in then, get this signing business done?” 

You ate pizza and drank a glass of wine (frowned upon considering your medication, but one glass couldn’t kill you, right?) out of regular glassware (a sin, if anyone asked your poor mother) as the manilla envelope sat on the coffee table and practically watched the two of you, oozing with judgement.

You’re supposed to be divorcing. Not cozying up on the god damn couch. Weren’t you the one who told him to find a new place to live? Weren’t you the one who said the two of you wanted different things in life, from it? Weren’t you the one did this, pushed him away, shoved him out the door, told him it was all too little, too late?

But when his fingertips drifted to the top of your spine and then over, like he knew exactly where you were tender, you couldn’t stop yourself from melting into his touch, more and more until he had your back against his chest, strong grip on your shoulder, working your taut muscles with expertise.

His fingers dig deep, groan slipping between your teeth, breathy and low, enough that he’s immediately releasing you.

“Did I hurt you?” 

“N-no.” You shake your head, which only makes you dizzy. Probably shouldn’t have had that glass of wine. “Feels good.” He chuckles, and tucks you closer, head tipping back into his chest, eyes half closed. “Tweaked something in m’shoulder a few weeks ago.” For some reason, you feel the need to explain it, to tell him. “Went for a slide tackle, ended up halfway under the girl. And she was a lot bigger than me.” 

“You still playin’ in that women’s league?” 

“Every Sunday.”

You were so relaxed, so pliable, that you didn’t utter a single protest when he leaned you back on the couch like a doll, pulling your leggings down and off your ankles, sliding your panties away to bury his face in your pussy. You didn’t want to protest, or stop, or get up off the couch, even though, somewhere, in the back of your logical mind, you knew what you were doing was stupid. You knew, that doing this once was mistake, but doing it twice was just downright foolish. It’s just sex though. He can still just sign the papers and go. Who hasn’t had a little runaround with their soon to be ex-husband before the final nail is hammered in the coffin? You’ve never been a saint, after all. 

“Lift your hips.” He taps your side, and you do, letting him slide a throw pillow under them, plumping it under your ass for good measure. “Good girl.” You beam, woozily, and he chuckles, face cracking into something that’s flooded with light, something happy, the face of the man who used to be your husband, used to love you, want a future with you, not just endless rotations around the world with the 141 and a sometimes wife that he sometimes saw. 

“You have to pull out.” There’s backbone to your words, but it’s brittle, and easily breakable. “You didn’t listen last time, and ‘m still mad about it.” 

“I’m sorry, sweet girl.” His lips press against your thigh, and then your knee, trailing up to where he’s got your ankle in his hips. “You just feel like fuckin’ heaven.” You huff. “I will this time, promise.” He rubs your thigh, zinging your skin with a small slap, your yelp teetering off into a moan when he presses knuckle deep into your sopping wet cunt. 

“This doesn’t change anything.” You don’t know why you say it, why you’re so compelled to draw the line in the sand in this moment, when you could have said it any time before hand. Or, even better, had him sign the papers like you originally planned.

“I know.” He shifts you, pulling his occupied fingers free to rearrange your legs, folding your knees back against your chest, the position combined with the pillow under your hips practically tilting you all the way back, the angle enough to make you a little dizzy. Your hand shoots forward to latch onto his forearm for balance, little whimper sneaking away from you, making his brow crease in concern. “I’ve got you.” He whispers against your cheek, lips ghosting over yours, plucking a sweet kiss from your mouth before there’s heat grazing your opening. He keeps a hand on your knee until he’s pushing inside, thrusting in one fell swoop all the way until he can’t go any further, punching your cervix with the head of his cock, swearing behind a tight jaw. It’s a lot of stretch at this angle, deeper, sharper, and you squirm, adjusting to the pressure of him splitting you open. 

“F-fuu-ck.” Your eyes roll back in your head, off somewhere, somewhere not this planet, not this plane of existence where he’s practically in your belly, slick noises bouncing off the walls of your living room, his knees against the pillow, back sloped for enough leverage that he’s practically fucking downwards into you, bent forward with his chest against yours, torso locking you in place, arms around your head like crown. Or a cage. “Si- fuck. It- it hurts.” you babble, gasping into his neck, teeth dangerously close to his shoulder. 

“I know, doin’ so good. Almost there.” You start to melt around him, gentled into it, the patting and cooing and kissing sweetening you soft by the passing second. “Easy love, open up for me.” He pants into your mouth, tongue licking in behind your teeth, invading your senses, your very existence, and it’s so much, too much, but you can’t stop. You let yourself get swept away, mind slipping deeper and deeper every time he thumbs your clit, rubbing a circle around the swollen bud, tapping across it just how you like. “Relax, sweetheart, that’s it.” He keeps bringing you closer and closer to coming, playing your body like only a husband could, plucking the strings that make the sweetest melodies, chords vibrating together until you’re clenching down on his cock, spine curling forward, everything inside of you exploding with a blinding, fiery orgasm that has you crying his name, body shaking underneath him with aftershocks. “You’ve been such a good girl for me.” He murmurs into your sweat-soaked temple, cock sliding out just to push all the way deep again, hips grinding against your ass in a circle. “Haven’t you, sweet girl?” You nod, because yes, of course. You’re always good. 

“Yeeah.” You squeak, vowels heavy, eyes heavy, head heavy, everything too thick underneath the weight of your orgasm, his cock lodged inside you, the muscle relaxer mixed with the Malbec, the chagrined manilla envelope sitting on the table, a mere two feet from your prone body. 

“I know. I know you have.” The muscles in his arm flex, tendons in his neck becoming more defined, and his movements stutter, fucking you in a frantic, desperate way, wild with some sort of chaotic need. “I’m gonna give you a gift for it. For being so good.” 

“You- you-“ You mean to say you what? What do you mean? What are you talking about? But you can’t get any of it out, only able to watch him through half shuttered eyes, admiring the slope of his jaw, the white of the scar on his chin, the drip of sweat in his clavicle. 

“I love you.” A big hand holds your hip upwards, steady, pinning you to the pillow, pace turning hungry, unrelenting, his forehead pressed to yours as he bottoms out, trying to fuck you as deep as possible, to consume you, to drown in you, shoving you further and further up the couch. It’s erratic, and insane, and so- so Simon, that the tears dripping down your cheeks feel normal, everything feels right in your hazy, fucked out brain. “I love you.” He tells you again, and his jaw clicks in your ear. “I love- fuck, fuck, I’m coming.”

You should have protested. You should have reminded him of his promise. Should have said no, remember, you did this last time. We talked about this. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Couldn’t even get your mouth to work right, too spun out on him, on yourself, on floating on a cloud, high above your life, like choices didn’t have consequences. You were blissed out on your own bad decisions, sleepy in the cocoon of an alternate universe with your hips tilted on a pillow, where your husband was still your husband, and not some absent ghost.  

You didn’t even protest when he gathered you together in his arms and carried you upstairs. Didn’t mind that he got one of your make up wipes from the bathroom and cleaned your face, tucked you in, and kissed you goodnight.

You didn’t mind any of it, until you woke up the next morning and faced that manilla envelope.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter, because in a weeks’, two weeks’ time, he’d be somewhere on the other side of the planet, or hemisphere, or country, somewhere classified, doing god knows what. He’d be gone, and you’d be here, just like always. Just like old times. The sex didn’t matter. It meant nothing. You hardly remembered most it, just clips here and there, the taste of his mouth, the feeling of being so full of him. It didn’t matter, and you repeated those three words in the mirror, four, five times in the morning, intentionally not looking at the gleam of your rings, the wedding band and engagement ring, a fated pair… all alone.

Besides, you could always mail the paperwork. Address it to John. He’d make sure it gets taken care of.

You cringed when you thought about the note you’d have to enclose, the awful acknowledgement of your ineptitude- “Hi John, sorry, but could you have Simon sign these when you get a chance?”

And then, everything changed.

“LT!” Soap shouts over the din of the common room, jerking his head towards the office at the end of the hall. “Price needs ye.”

Price is standing behind his desk, arms across his chest when Simon pushes the door open. His lips quirk, head shaking with a sigh. “You have a phone call.” He motions to the landline, one of the only phones in this entire building, currently off the hook, open line waiting in the air. A phone call? “I’ll give you some privacy.”

When the door shuts, and he’s alone with the phone in his hand, he takes a deep breath, and puts it to his ear. “Hello?” His thumb strokes the silicone wedding band on his ring finger, rubbing it in a circle as he waits for a response. This number is for family members and emergencies, real serious shit, and he’s not-

“Simon?” It’s you. It’s your voice on the other end of the line, wet with tears. His heart stops in his chest, lungs frozen in place, anxiety curling in the pit of his stomach. Your crying always puts him on edge, and it’s worse, with him here, and you alone, everything hanging on the precipice. “Simon? Are you there?”

“I’m here. What’s wrong?” He closes his eyes. Say it. Please. Fucking hell. Please.

“I- I need, I have to tell you something.” You’re still crying, hiccupping with distress, and he wishes desperately that he was there with you, holding you, telling you everything going to be okay to your face, instead of over the phone.

“What is it sweetheart?” He tries to encourage, relaxing back into the chair when you take a deep breath. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I’m pregnant.” His palm covers the receiver immediately, just in case, and he thumps the top of Price’s desk with his fist, stupid grin stretching his face wide.

“You’re what?” He feigns shock, confusion. “Did you say… you’re pregnant?”

“Yes.” You blubber.

“I thought you were on the pill, sweet girl. I wouldn’t have-“

“I told you to pull out! And I was b-but I stopped taking it, like two months ago. I forgot and after the first time when you were home, after the restaurant I thought, oh well, I had only been off the pill for a month, less than, after being on it for like fifteen years!” You practically shriek in his ear, a mix of sob and hysteria, trying to suck air into your lungs before continuing. “Getting pregnant after being on it for so long just doesn’t happen. It’s almost impossible! So, I d-didn’t worry about it. And then the second time was only like, two nights after that night and I just thought- I thought everything would be fine! I’m s-s-sorry, I’m so sorry.” You’re babbling, gasping, and he rubs his neck.

“Alright, alright. Hey, hey listen,” you’re still crying, voice cracking over the line and his heart breaks for you, guilt swamping him over you being alone. This was not the plan. He was supposed to be home for this part, to be there for you, if it took. “Sweetheart, breathe. You need to breathe.” You struggle through a few deep breaths, nearly wheezing, and he winces each time. It can't be good for you, or the baby, to be stressed like this. “Good girl, that’s it. Nice an’ slow. Good.”

“I'm sorry. I don’t know what to do, but-” You whisper, like you’re telling a secret, and he closes his eyes, imagining you pacing in the kitchen, hand in your hair, on your hip, anxious. He knows you. Knows you better than he knows himself, anyone. Soap, even. He knows, the reason why you’re saying sorry over and over, isn’t because you’re apologizing for getting pregnant, the two of you did that together. Or rather, he did it. 

It’s because of what’s coming next.

“I do know that I… I want this baby, Simon. I know you… you don’t want this. That you’ve never wanted it, and that’s okay. I can do this, alone. We’ll still get divor-“

“Stop.” He doesn’t enjoy cutting you off, but he needs to put an end to this talk, this idea that still seems to have a hold on you. “Look, I’ll… I’ll come home. We can talk and, figure out what we’re going to do, okay? You’re not alone sweet girl. I’ll be there.” You’re silent for a moment, a moment that feels too long.

“Okay. You promise?”

I promise to love and cherish you.

Till death does us part.

Till death.

“I promise.”

#peaches writes #black sun #simon riley #simon riley x reader #🥞 anon #🌵 anon #tw forced pregnancy #tw dark and twisty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #tw forced breeding #cod x reader #cod mw2 #female reader #simon riley x female reader #Black Sun by Death Cab

[dcxdpdabbles]

The Royal Consort. Part 3

"Mr. Fenton! Will you be attending the Wayne Charity Gala with your husband?" A reporter demands, thrusting her mic into Danny's face.

"I-" He tries to say, but another reporter jumps in.

"Is it true Bruce Wayne is attempting to have his kids seduce your husband?"

"What?"

"Mr. Fenton, is it true that you could stop a war simply by batting your eyelashes?!"

"Hey, now that's uncalled for."

"What is the political climate in the wake of the disbanded Anti-Ecto Acts?"

Danny couldn't even tell where the questions were coming from. He tried to push through the crowd of new crews, but every step of the way, more and more people crowded him.

He should've stayed in the hotel room Mr. Wayne had rented for his family, but Danny had thought he could sneak out and explore Gotham.

After Dani had burst into the meeting room, in all her ghostly glory, the Justice League had allowed them a short recess so his parents could meet their "granddaughter."

He is still determining exactly what she told them, as he is too busy to dodge more of Batman's questions. He just hoped she could keep the ruse up in the face of his parents' smothering apologies.

His dad wrapped her up I'm his arms, sobbing the whole time while his mother was snapping pictures of Dani, crying about how much she had grown.

Thank the stars Jazz had pulled her "niece" to the side for a short conversation. When they came back, Dani had taken the princess role so well that she answered most of the Ghost Zone questions like the ambassador she was pretending to be.

Her age? Yeah, that was off cause the time zone difference in the Ghost Zone. She was only four years in human years but looked sixteen due to her half-blood and where she grew up.

The chances of war? No, her dad had appeased the war council after the United Nations called the USA on their bullshit.

Demands Phantom had? Respect the dead. Honor the rights of his people. Leave the natural portals alone, and if his subjects were causing issues call one of his to take care of it.

Did she not need an anchor? She's half-human, so she could pop between worlds at will, but only because the Ghost King allowed it.

Where had she been before Phantom took the throne? Danny was not in a stage of life to raise a child- he had only been fifteen!- so Phantom raised her in his lair. Yes, she came to visit Danny.

Did she practically say she was a child of separated parents? Yes. Did she regret it? Only when rumors about Phantom wanting to replace Danny sprung, and she had people trying to get her to introduce them to his "father."

How strong was she? Step into the ring, Wonder Woman; let's test it. (They did spar, and surprisingly, she gave Wonder Woman a run for her money, but in the end, the more experienced fighter won. The Amazonian offered to train her)

By the end of it, Danny and Dani left with stacks of possible legislation about peace among their people. They both promised to get it to Phantom.

Just as they left, Batman informed them that Bruce Wayne had invited them to the Gala. He also offered them asylum in Gotham by housing them in his family manor until the media died.

Danny had almost accepted, but Jazz had stepped in with sharp eyes and a cold smile. "Please tell Mr. Wayne we are honored by the offer, but we would prefer our own space."

Batman grunted. "Would a penthouse be predered?"

"Yes, thank you."

He loved Jazz.

His mom had whispered in Danny's ear as they were teleporting- the Justice League had teleporting technology!?- back to Earth. "Do you think the rumors about Bruce Wayne being Batman's lover are true?"

Danny had yet to pay much mind to Wes Weston's theories, but honestly, the way Batman was able just to promise things on Mr. Wayne's behalf.....well, if the Box Ghost and Lunch Lady could happen, why not a billionaire and a crime-fighting

Danny, Jazz, and Dani had been hiding in the pen house for about three days. His parents had returned home to secure their lab after the fifth time curious meddlesome reporters had tripped their house security.

Danny will admit he went stir-crazy, so using his powers, he turned invisible and went out when his sisters had been watching a show. He had made it for about five hours when someone saw him buying a coffee and tweeted his location.

His sightseeing had been cut short by the crowds of people that swarmed him.

"Mr. Fenton, what do you say about parents criticizing how early you married?"

Danny was pushed up against the wall by the crowd, wishing he could just turn ghost and drop this whole thing. He felt a burning sensation in the back of his eyes, and for one horrifying moment, he thought they were going to record him bursting into tears when a man broke through the crowd.

"That is far enough!" The man placed himself in front of Danny, shielding the eighteen-year-old. His British accent made the sharpness of his words even more scorching. "You all know that a press conference will be in a few days and that surrounding a royal could be an act of war! Get back!"

Danny had a moment of relief until someone snatched his arm. He flinches away, going for a punch, but it gets caught by the person tugging him through the crowd.

Danny could only blink at the smiling face of Dick Grayson until the man helped him into a car. The British man quickly came back, jumping into the driver's seat and speeding off as the crowd of reporters tried to get one last photo.

Danny's breaths were coming in short, fast puffs. He wasn't very sure what was going on. He couldn't think. There were so many flashes. So many voices. So many people-!.

A hand pushed his head between his knees, rubbing his back. "It's okay. You're okay. "

Danny gasped, tears finally falling as he tried to explain why he had done something stupid. "I-i just wanted to see- the landmarks- I didn't mean- I- I."

"Shhh. I know. It's okay. You're okay."

After a while, Danny was able to sit up. His saviors had asked him to name five things he saw, four things he could hear, three things he could listen to, and one thing he could taste to calm down, but it worked. Only then did he realize there were more people in the fancy car with them.

A boy his age sat on his right, having been the one to push his head down. It took only a second to recognize him: Tim Drake, teenage CEO and one of the most attractive men he had ever seen.

A blond teenage girl who also seemed their age sat in the passenger seat, though she twisted around to give him a warm smile. She was also very gorgeous.

Not to mention Dick Grayson, who had a warm hand on his back. Adonis must have returned as the first adopted son of Bruce Wayne because, goddam, that man was fine.

Even the British man was handsome for someone his grandfather's age.

Had he died (again) and gone to heaven?

"Here," Drake placed a cold water bottle in his palm, offering the gobsmacked Danny a small smile. "Drink. It'll help."

"Ugh...I.. thank you for rescuing me," He managed to gasp out.

"Don't mention it. We all know the hell of the paparazzi. Glad you alright. " the girl said. "I'm Stephanie Brown, but you can call me Steph. The guy to your right is Tim Drake, the one on your left is Dick Grayson, and this fine man driving us is Alfred Pennyworth."

"I'm Danny Fenton." He says, taking a swing. The cold water went down his throat and grounded him.

"We know. You've made quite the wave with your marriage." Grayson said though not unkindly. "We'll have to take you to our manor to switch cars; otherwise, they'll just wait for us at the hotel."

Danny thought it over before whispering, "Can I message my sister? She must be worried-"

A portal rips open in front of him. The other humans all let out cries of alarm but not as loudly as Danny when Phantom's head pokes out of it.

He has a moment to wonder how in the world that was possible until the ghost waves at him using one of Clockwork's necklaces. Oh, it's him from the future. Okay. That's happening.

"Darling! I felt you in distress! What happened?! Shall I punish everyone in Gotham? " Phantom questions in a tone Danny had never been aware he could make. It's smooth. It's all-knowing. It's seductive.

What the fuck is going on?

"There is no need for any form of punishment. Not to worry, your highness." Drake quickly jumps in. "We would never allow anything to happen to your husband. I will personally keep Mr. Fenton away from any danger. "

Danny watched in slight horror as his future ghost self gave the other man a long look before smirking. "I appreciate the offer, and you are certainly my type with that black hair and blue eyes, but I am fine with only one husband. Danny will decide to add you to the marriage if he would like to have more partners."

Drake blinks wide started eyes. "I- I beg your pardon?"

"I have a protection and ice core. Proclaiming to keep my romantic partner safe is the same as asking for my hand in marriage due to the customs of protective spirits. Were you not aware?"

"I wasn't!" Danny interrupts loudly. " I was very unaware that meant marriage proposals!"

Phantom gives him a cheeky smile, and suddenly Danny understands why all his Rouges had wanted to beat his face so often. He can be rather annoying.

"No one will be above you, darling. You are the embodiment of beauty, and I would never desire another. However, the royal family is allowed concubines. You may take human ones if you wish to. I wouldn't want to ruin any of your fun."

"Who told you to say this!?" Danny demands, forgetting himself for a moment. Or the watchful eyes of the Waynes swinging between them with prompt attention.

"Why just the royal advisor!" Phantom laughs, his white hair bouncing as he tilts his head.

Jazz. She was responsible for this. How could he have thought she was sane?

"I don't want a concubine!" Danny yells, face burning. He's never been more mortified in his life, including walking down. For breakfast in Superman boxers, only to find Superman at the bottom of the stairs.

What a terrible day that was to run out of clean pants.

Phantom smiles. "I love you too, darling. I shall see you soon. I do not wish to strain your body anymore."

He thrusts his head back into the glowing green portal, and with a soft pop, he's gone. The car is utterly silent until Grayson whispers.

"Does this mean Tim just got married through fae laws?"

Danny whips his head at him. "No! It does not!"

Drake lets out a small breath of relief. "Oh, thank God. Not that you aren't hot, Mr. Fenton, but I'm not ready for marriage."

Danny wonders if he can reach the door handle to throw himself out of a speeding car. He knows somewhere in the future. He is laughing his ass off at current him.

"Dude, none taken. Could you clarify how I ended up here? I just wanted to jump across Gotham roofs, and suddenly, I can marriage trap people."

Danny wishes he could kick his own ass- not counting Dan- as Steph breaks into uncontrolled laughter.

"Oh, Danny, you're going to fit in well!" She says between wheezing.

Grayson raises his hand, face glued to his phone. "Bruce just sent in the family group chat that none of us are allowed near Phantom."

"Why?" Danny asks.

Grayson shrugs. "We're all his type, and Bruce's heart can't handle that."

"Fair enough"

(Part 1) (Part 2)

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #the royal consort #Part 3 #Danny time traveled just keep up the ruse #Jazz figured out Batman was suspecting something so she sent him back to give Phantom a Brucie Wayne cover #Bruce is having a heart attack #Once again Alfred is Real MVP

[charmandabear]

Yule

Summary:

While snuggling by the Yule fire, you forget just how sensitive elf ears can be.

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 2.2k Tags/Warnings: post-game spoilers, cunnilingus, blood drinking, p in v sex, spawn!Astarion, soft!Astarion, fluff and smut, Astarion deserves to be bitten too

Read it on AO3.

Enough people said they'd still be interested in reading holiday-related fics even after the holidays, so here you go! Huge shout-outs to Idylla for their incredible art used in the banner. Their modern!Astarion absolutely ruins me.

Midwinter Nights: Yule | Christmas | New Year's Eve

Astarion curled against you as the Yule fire burned low in the hearth. You knew he wouldn’t be able to stay awake all night, despite his insistence to the contrary. It amused you even more because, as an elf, he didn’t really need to sleep. But he had grown so accustomed to it at this point, snuggling up with you each night as you got your mandatory eight hours, it was a harder habit to break. 

You had only just put the most recent batch of cookies in the oven, but you were a little concerned for what would happen when you needed to take them out. Astarion was much like a cat in that way; if he climbed on top of you, it was a crime to disturb him. You could lay there forever, pinned beneath his weight, and you’d thank the gods for it. 

You peered down at him, sleeping so peacefully. He almost looked like a cat, pointy ears occasionally flicking at the warm air that emanated from the fire. You could practically see his tail swishing contentedly. Ever since killing Cazador and reclaiming his freedom, he’d been so drawn to creature comforts, looking for softness and indulgence in all he could find. 

You ran your fingers through his white curls, scratching his scalp absentmindedly. He shifted in his sleep, subconscious nudging him into your touch. You would sit here all night if you could, nails dancing over his pale skin while he slept soundly. You knew that eventually your timer would go off and you would need to take this latest batch of cookies out. But for now, at least, you could just enjoy having him pressed up against your side.

You stared into the fire as your hand wandered, gently stroking his back, his shoulders, his neck. You marveled at how much had changed in these past few months. Karlach and Wyll ventured to Avernus to fight on the front lines of the Blood War, and while you missed them, you knew you were only a ritual away from seeing them at the House of Hope. Gale had gone back to continue his studies in Waterdeep, and Lae’zel found herself living a surprising life of domestic bliss with Shadowheart, newly reunited with her parents. You haven’t heard much from Halsin, Jaheira, or Minsc, but you were certain that they were finding respite wherever they were. 

As you’re getting lost in your thoughts, you stopped paying attention to where your hand flitted across Astarion’s skin; that is, until you heard a breathy moan escape his lips. You looked down and realized that you were running the tip of your pointer around the shell of his ear. You pulled away suddenly, embarrassed as you realized you were basically doing the elf equivalent of teasing his nipples. He whined at the sudden loss of contact, and you sat frozen, unsure if he was awake or not. 

He stirred, legs squirming against a definitive bulge growing in his loose pants. He sat up and blinked sleepily, gears turning as he put together where he was. He turned to you and suddenly his eyes focused, pupils wide like a cat focused on its prey. 

“If you wanted something, you could’ve just asked, you know,” he said in a low purr, and you could feel yourself clench in response to the fire his words stoked deep in your core. 

“Sorry love, it was an accident,” you whispered, trying to sound cool but the crack in your voice gave you away. 

“Accident or no, you’ve made your bed, so I hope you’re ready to lie in it,” he said with a grin, fangs glinting in the firelight. He launched himself onto you, kissing you roughly as he tangled his hands in your hair. You tried to regain your breath as you kissed him back, your hands scrambling for purchase on his clean linen shirt. Your body bent back with the weight of his as he shifted on top of you, prying your legs open with his knee. An unseemly moan escaped your lips as he pressed his hardness right up to the apex of your thighs. You ran your fingers through his hair, though whether it was to regain control or just hang on for dear life, you couldn’t tell. 

Between the heat radiating from the fire, the slight delirium from staying up all night, and the way that your arousal for this man made your head swim, you could barely think straight. He continued to roll his hips into you obscenely, and you could feel the telltale dampness seeping into your small clothes. You spread your legs a little wider, trying to feel that delicious friction through the several layers of fabric that separated you. 

You broke the kiss to take in a gulp of air, beginning to feel a bit lightheaded. His lips migrated to your neck, flicking the tip of his tongue along the puncture wound that had only recently closed up. A shudder surged through your body at the sensation and you squirmed involuntarily, your body urging you closer to his. You rolled your head away from him, presenting your neck as a silent offering as you had so many times before. He needed no further invitation and sunk his teeth into the sensitive flesh, your simultaneous groans of pleasure mingling together in your ears. You knew you were courting danger by letting him bite when you were already woozy, but it was worth the risk for the good it did you both. He always became a little more powerful, a little more dominant right after drinking your blood; for you, the feeling of him siphoning just a little of your life force away gave you an unmatched feeling of ecstasy.

He detached himself from your neck and looked down at you, panting. The sight of him post-feeding always sent you into a frenzy. His cheeks and ears uncharacteristically flushed, his bloody lips in a sedate half-smile, hair a tousled mess, and a wild look in his eyes like he was ready to devour you. You could only imagine what he saw in return; your hair splayed out beneath you, eyes glassy, mouth open in a suspended moan as blood trickled down your neck.

He ran a hand down the front of your blouse and you arched your back to meet his touch. He was still pressed between your legs, your knees hooked around his waist. He ran a finger along the waistband of your pants, causing you to whine needily.

“Tell me what it is you want, pet,” he purred, the predatory cat out in full force. Your hips bucked up against him as you grasped at the rug beneath you. He looked so gorgeous in the orangey firelight, his skin soft and glowy. You pawed wantonly at the hem of his shirt, any semblance of speech leaving your body. He grabbed your flailing wrists and pinned them above your head, bringing his lips within an inch of yours.

“Your words, love. Tell me what you want,” he growled, a little more forcefully than before, eliciting another desperate mewl. 

“Ah- I.. Astarion,” you pled with him and he grinned, fangs pressing into your lips.

“Yes?” The word was a breathless whisper. He looked down the length of his nose at you, crimson eyes piercing into you.

“I want you to taste me,” you squeaked out, writhing beneath the hard length of his body. He pressed his lips to your ear just as he pressed his erection into your mound.

“Good girl,” he hissed, and pushed off your chest to slink downward to your hips. He grabbed your waistband and slid your pants down over your ass, dragging his cool hands across your heated skin. He pressed his lips into your hip and you arched into him, yearning to feel him on every inch of you. Your skin prickled from the heat of the fire, his contrasting touch making you shiver. 

He traveled downward, each kiss pulling a new and more debaucherous sound from your throat. His lips hovered above yours and he relished in making you twitch with need. After a second of teasing that felt like an eternity, he swiped his tongue along your slit and you groaned in relief. He dug his fingers into your thighs as he gently lapped at your folds, making you feel more heated with each pass. He spread your lips apart with his dexterous fingers, tracing lazy shapes with the tip of his tongue.

Your fingers curled into his hair once more, hoping to regain control of your cantering hips. He pushed his tongue deeper into you and your breath grew ragged, your hips begging to fully fuck his face. He relented to your control, letting you grind on his lips and tongue to chase your own satisfaction. Your cries grew in tandem with the pressure that mounted in your core, and this time when your hands wandered to stroke his ears, it was intentional. He moaned into your cunt, a deep, primal sound that sent vibrations directly to your clit, sending you over the edge. He buried his face into you as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, thighs squeezing around his head.

He pulled away once the pulses had subsided and you delighted to see his disheveled face, your juices reflecting in the firelight. He roughly pulled you up onto his lap, pulling your still sensitive swell down hard onto his erection. You moaned into his lips, sharing the taste of you with him.

“You saucy little minx,” he growled even as you could feel his smile through the kiss. Your fingers fumbled at his waistband, desperate to free him and feel him inside you. He peeled your blouse over the top of his head just as you released his cock from his trousers, tip already glistening with precum. Your breath hitched at the sight of it, your pussy already aching to be filled.

The length of his cock teased your folds, and he cupped one of your breasts in his hand, the pad of his thumb skating over the pert nipple. You threw your head back, raising your tits up with a heaving breath just so he could latch on with his mouth, suckling gently. Your arms around his neck, you danced your fingers close to his ear, teasing him as much as you were asking him for more. He pulled off your nipple with a pop and stared red hot daggers into you.

“Careful love. Mess with the cat and get the claws,” he warned in a low and dangerous whisper. He raised your hips up and pulled you down in one fell stroke onto his stiffened cock. The cry he tore out of you was your most obscene yet, but you were already so wet and hungry for him that you slid down to his base without resistance.

You began to ride his dick, your knees pressing against the floor as he stretched you out with every thrust. Now it was his turn to toss his head back, leaving his pale throat open and vulnerable. You sunk your teeth into the cold flesh, your dull human incisors not actually piercing skin, but eliciting a delicious groan from him nonetheless. He kept his hands squarely on your hips as you bounced up and down, relishing the slide of him along your inner walls.

You wanted to see him lose himself in you. You wanted him to come undone like you were. You needed more of those breathy moans in your ear as he unleashed the predator within.

You nipped at his earlobe.

Almost as though an external force possessed his body, he slammed you down onto your back without pulling out of you. He pushed your knees up to your ears and pounded into you forcefully, the edge of your second orgasm rapidly approaching. Your tits bounced with the force of his thrusts, and it took everything in your power to keep your eyes open so you could watch him unravel above you. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his red eyes looked down on you, positively feral. You could see his fangs through the soft o-shape his mouth formed as he came, his orgasm sending you crashing into yours. You could still feel his cock throbbing inside you with each burst of his seed even as your vision slowly faded into black.

You awoke a few moments later curled up on some pillows and a cool washcloth laid across your forehead. Next to you was a glass of water which you gulped down eagerly.

Astarion came back into the room, face still looking deliciously flushed and bitten, with a small plate of cookies. He kneeled down next to you and held one up to your lips, and you accepted the snack without hesitation. He pulled the washcloth from your forehead and kissed your cool damp skin, his lips almost warm in comparison.

“Love, you can't scare me like that. I thought I fucked you into a coma. If you're feeling unwell, say something,” he said, red eyes full of concern. You wave it off with a shrug.

“What can I say? Maybe I like messing with the cat,” you respond with a giggle as you bite down on your cookie, teeth bared playfully.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate fanfiction #astarion smut #astarion fluff #fluff and smut #baldurs gate smut #astarion x reader #astarion x you #fanfiction #bg3 spoilers #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion

[aemonds-sapphire]

Wine

Summary: You have too much to drink with Aegon and Aemond is left to deal with the aftermath.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff. Attentive Aemond. Alcohol.

A/N: My first try at some comic relief (hopefully)! I want to thank @aemonds-war-crime for inspiring me to write this! Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1k

“Let me go fetch a few dresses and we’ll get right to it!”

Aegon grunted, taking yet another sip of his cup. “No! I will not wear a dress.”

“But you’d look so pretty,” you cooed, slumping against the wooden table in utmost despair. “A blue one would go well with your eyes!”

That caused Aegon to shoot from his seat to join your side. “You think?”

You clapped enthusiastically, forgetting the cup in your hand and spilling wine over both of you.

“Oops!”

Aegon gasped dramatically before bursting into laughter with you.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

You turned in your seat and blinked up at Aemond, surprised to see him there all of a sudden and out of nowhere.

It was clear your senses weren’t as tuned as you’d hoped and the young prince could avoid being noticed if necessary.

Aegon made a snorting sound and rolled his eyes. “Ugh… here comes Prince I-must-not-have-fun…”

A rush of boldness and you bolted into lover’s embrace.

“Aemond!” you giggled, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. “I’ve convinced Aegon to try a few dresses.”

He stiffened lightly under your touch. “Charming.”

“I think he’ll love it,” you whispered dramatically into his ear.

Aegon slamed the golden cup on the wooden surface. “Aemond must join in, then.”

“Yes!” you beamed, bouncing on your feet with excitement.

Until the room pitched to the left and Aemond had to grab you with both hands to keep you from toppling over to the side.

“You would look lovely in a rose pink dress, little brother,” Aegon grinned.

Aemond shot him a murderous glare.

“No, really,” he continued his teasing in between sips. “I’d give up my birthright to witness that.”

Aemond’s lips curled into a menacing smile. “You can say that again, brother,” his tone deceptively light and nonchalant.

“Can I?” Aegon laughed, raising his cup to him.

You merely clapped your hands in pure delight. “I adore you both!” You said, turning to take a seat, but halted midway as Aemond gripped you waist.

“Time to go to your bedchamber,” he said, removing the empty cup from your hand.

“Oh!” you wiggled your eyebrows. “Are we going to… you know—”

Aemond immediately interrupted you. “I’m sure Aegon doesn’t need to hear this.”

“But I need to know!” you demanded. “I may need some help getting undressed.”

Aemond’s face went livid.

“By all means, carry on,” he taunted, emptying his cup. “Pretend I’m not here.”

Aemond clicked his tongue. “Of course,” he huffed in annoyance before turning to you. “Say goodbye to Aegon.”

You lifted your hand to wave as a pout turned your lips. “Goodbye, Aegon.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” he said out loud with a smile, refilling his cup.

You allowed Aemond to guide you silently along the stairs and halls of the Red Keep.

“Aegon can be so much fun,” you whispered, leaning against his shoulder and looping your arm through his.

“You shouldn’t have been drinking with him,” he said, catching you as you tripped over thin air for the third time. “His stomach is bottomless.”

“But he’s fun,” you said with a hiccup before freezing as you took a turn to the left. “Why is the corridor spinning, Aemond?”

Your balance was so off that it was a surprise you hadn’t met the floor already.

Or maybe it had something to do with the handsome young prince who refused to leave your side.

“Just keep walking,” he said. “I’ll help.”

You accepted his offer and proceeded to stride valiantly through the wobbly hall ahead.

“Do you think he’d wear a dress?”

“What?”

“Aegon wearing a dress, Aemond,” you said impatiently, snapping your fingers in front of his face. “Keep up!”

“Hmm.”

You sighed. “I really think he’d look adorable.”

Aemond disentangled your arm from his to place one hand on your shoulder. “How much did have to drink?”

You pondered briefly. At least as much as your brain would allow.

“Two cups…” you said. “… maybe three.”

Aemond was not particularly fond of his brother’s drinking habits, especially when they were extended to you.

His eye was fixed on your face. “Next time I’ll be there.”

Bur you were not paying attention to him anymore.

You narrowed your eyes, wondering why there were suddenly two Aemonds in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” Both of them asked in unison.

“Ugh…” you drawled, reaching out with your arm to one of them, only to grab nothing but air. “… why are there two of you?”

“What?”

You rubbed your eyes rapidly and blinked.

Only one Aemond Targaryen stood before you, looking perplexed as he gripped both your shoulders.

“Let me carry you.”

You flinched away from his touch, stomping your foot. “Absolutely not! I am perfectly capable of carrying myself into my bedchambers, kind ser.”

Every single time you stumbled, he would just correct you as his hand hovered your elbow.

Aemond clicked his tongue, pacing closely behind you. “You nearly walked off the balcony. Twice.”

“Nonsense. Blasphemy,” you muttered as he steered you in the right direction. “Very serious accusation.”

You then inhaled deeply, trying to settle the uneasy feeling in your stomach.

“Let me carry you before you hurt yourself,” you heard his voice behind you.

Instead, you strode rapidly, almost colliding with the wall to your right had it not been for Aemond’s quick reflexes.

“Alright. That’s enough,” he said, hoisting you effortlessly with his arms and bringing you close to his chest.

Your stomach violently lurched. “Put me down. I think I’m going to be sick…”

For the first time that night you heard a chuckle from him. “I’ll take my chances.”

You wrapped your arms around him for support, feeling you head spin dangerously fast, but still managing to find some comfort in his embrace.

“Your hair is so beautiful…” you whispered giddily.

“Hmm.”

“Let me braid it…” you offered.

Aemond remained silent as he carried you across the poorly lit corridor.

“Let me add some adorable velvety ribbons.”

No reply.

“Please?”

Nothing.

“Come on! Please,” you whined into his ear, tightening the grip around him. “Please… please. I’ll give you a kiss.”

This time Aemond chuckled. “A kiss?”

“Yes!” you smiled enthusiastically. “Many kisses.”

“We have an arrangement, then.”

You couldn’t see it, but you knew he was smiling.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fluff #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond imagine

[genderfluid-insomniac]

age regression!reader with the harbingers

a/n: this was for a request on ao3 but I post all of my works on both platforms (still updating the ao3 one)

THIS ISN'T A SEXUAL THING!! IF YOU MAKE IT ONE I WILL BLOCK YOU!!

Pierro

Usually seems stoic and uncaring but you know him better than most people being his little. Pierro was very understanding and a tad confused until you explained it, wanting to help in any way possible and buying anything you wanted (and more if he thought you’d like it).

Best storyteller as he’s seen so much as both the royal mage of Khaenri’ah and the director of the harbingers; so whenever you want a story and he’s free from work all you have to do is ask. He makes sure you have proper health and won’t budge if you want sweets but you haven’t eaten a meal yet. A strict but very kind and caring caregiver.

If probably one of the most protective caregivers of all. of the harbingers given that he’s got a big target on his back for a variety of reasons (being Khaenri’an, top harbinger, war crimes, etc.). He never leaves you alone if he has to leave which is almost never since he’s rarely sent on missions and is the one the harbingers report back to, keeping you in a side room off of his office within view of both of you and checking on your from time to time between meal breaks.

Pierro loves how small you are in his arms and how your eyes are full of innocence when you are little, if he could keep you with him he would. He has tons of blankets to keep you warm from the cold that seeps in from the harsh weather and makes large fires in the evenings as he does paperwork while you play on the carpet with your crayons and plushies.

Il Capitano

Now as much as he seems tough and cold, behind closed doors you know he’s ironically one of the softest people you’ve met and has said that he’d kill for you if anyone threatened to hurt you in either state (little or big). Capitano keeps you as much of a secret as he can in fear of something happening to you and also away from Childe because, from his point of view, he’s a fighting-crazed maniac and doesn’t want little you to be corrupted.

You are one of the only people to see his face and it’s gorgeous including all the scars and burn marks, cupping your hands on his cheeks and giggling as the soft smile he wears just for you. He has a small team of soldiers that watch you whenever he has to leave and they secretly adore you, gentle expressions watch over you as you play with the toys that Capitano gave you and snack on local fruits while an abyss mage blanket is wrapped around you.

He adores your sleeping face or when you’re yawning after a long day and settling down for a nap, Capitano’s very glad his head covering hides his face because he’s smiling so wide and looking so soft. He has a hidden talent for getting you to sleep in seconds and all it takes for it to happen is to whisper comforting comments into your ear while rocking you.

This man’s voice is shockingly deep and wouldn’t tell anyone but can sing fairly well however he only knows basic folk songs or songs he’s picked up from his travelers. He will only sing if he’s 100% sure he’s alone and is mostly silent around the other harbingers so only his soldiers and you get the honor of hearing his voice.

Dottore

The doctor loves little you no matter what age you are but does have a hard and fast rule which is no playing in his lab. Ever. He acts like he doesn’t care about humanity but he's such a hypocrite as he would kill for you.

In his lab, there is a corner that is sectioned off specifically for you to be in with toys, blankets, plushies, spill-proof food, and drinks however the fencing surrounding the corner is high enough that you can’t climb over it, and thin but strong material. So you can easily see whatever your caregiver is up to but stay safe and out of harm in case anything happens.

If fussy then he’ll usually have a segment around to comfort you and attend to your needs if OG Dottore absolutely needs to do Harbinger work which both of you don’t like for different reasons. There are rare times when what he’s experimenting with or on something (like shield potions or enhanced foods) that he deems “safe” enough he’ll let you sit by him and color or fidget.

You have a lot of perfect tools for your regression that work perfectly because Dottore has done trials of what you like and what you don’t like. For example, your favorite blanket you have is a big Pyro abyss mage fur blanket that he made and keeps you warm with the mage’s abilities infused into the fur. Currently, you’ve seen him working on a cryo version for the harsh cold of Snezhnaya when you want to go outside and play in the snow but he’s yet been able to infuse a cryo-resistant effect which frustrates him to no end.

He has a strange talent for knowing exactly what’s bothering you before you know it given his knowledge of the human body and anatomy, preventing any meltdowns before they happen and keeping little you happy and satisfied.

This man is very protective over you knowing if someone finds out the second fatui harbinger had a soft spot for a human then you’re going to be a main target for his destruction and that cannot happen. Very rarely leaves you alone when you’re little and has either a trusted fatuus or segment be with you until he can get back.

Like in Sumeru, Dottore wanted to bring you with him but couldn’t due to his work having to be his main focus and secretly being worried about the traveler or Sumerian guards hurting you. He ended up leaving in the care of Arlecchino who agreed but under certain circumstances for her own mission in Fontaine and she often had some of the children from the house of the hearth care for you when she had meetings. (Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet adored you and sent you letters or “magic” gifts when you had to leave)

Columbina

This goes without saying but has one of the best singing voices of all of them and has put some of her soldiers to sleep by accident when they’ve overheard her singing to herself since her voice carries. You have been put to sleep by her voice and melodies countless times you’ve lost track and little you really like her voice. So whenever she can she’ll bring you into her office, placing you in a short walled-off area beside her, and humming or singing a favorite song while she works to reward you for being good.

Since she is the third harbinger no one really knows about her strength and that includes you, very rarely have you gotten glimpses of her power, and its always when someone threatens you or dares to question why Lady Columbina keeps a child at her side. Your caregiver shields you from the violence of the world because you’re her little one, her light among the darkness and she’s your mommy, your angelic caregiver who makes all your wishes come true.

Columbina, despite being one of the strongest harbingers, is very weak to your big cute eyes pleading for another blanket, toy, of sweet she brought back from a faraway nation and she of course bends to your wishes. At times you’ve babbled about how you have your very own fairy godmother who wipes your tears and rocks you gently whenever you get fussy. She spoils you rotten and has no shame in it, having your own room attached to hers that is baby-proofed but also filled with everything you could ever need. The room looks almost like it’s made of clouds with pacifiers hung on the wall for you to grab and everything organized in a multilayered box that contains the softest comfort clothes, pull-ups, clean wipes, and noise-canceling headphones for overstimulation.

Another one of the harbingers that is very protective of you and will not hesitate to kill others if it means getting her little one back in her arms. However, she’s pretty confident about being able to protect you; so very rarely will be brought to a meeting and sitting on your mommy’s lap happily napping or relaxing in her big coat. Some of her other colleagues aren’t fond of you being in the meeting while others are very fond of you and as a gift one winter solstice, you were gifted your own big fluffy coat resembling your mama’s coat.

Arlecchino

She isn’t one for gifts but will give you the necessary things like toys, blankets, and eventually other things from neighboring nations that she thinks your little self would like. Arlecchino has everything in themes of the ocean because of her love for her homeland and has everything organized in a somewhat kid-proof box with some stray blankets or toys out for you to play with unless you want others. Whenever you’re regressed (normally in Fountaine since that’s where she mainly stays unless sent otherwise) she pretends not to notice her children Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet giving you gifts as well. Little you is very shy and happy so when you’ve been given a gift you blush looking up at them and timidly murmuring a “thank you” to whoever gave you a gift.

One of the most protective people out of all the harbingers and if anyone decides to fuck with her little one, doesn’t resist killing that person and genuinely is wondering if they’re stupid enough to attack someone close to a harbinger. She mostly brings you with her but on occasions she can’t she keeps you in her office with her most trusted soldiers. You’re comfortable with your favorite blanket and toy all bundled up in the corner babbling about with the innocent child look in your eyes that she loves completely safe. On occasion, she’ll have one of the hearth children come and play with you, those are the days you really look forward to because you rarely get playmates aside from your mommy.

Arlecchino rarely leaves on missions but when she does she leaves you in the care of some of her soldiers along with Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet to take care of you. They seriously love you and take care of you like their own sibling; Lynette of course spoils you with deserts much to Lyney’s dismay who amazes you with magic tricks and Freminet who tells you all about underwater animals. When Arlecchino does take you with her she keeps you with her at all times unless she has to go somewhere where you can’t go or it’s dangerous. In that case, she tells you to stay put at the base until she gets back setting you up with all the necessities and ordering some of her soldiers in and outside of the room.

Sandrone

At first, Marionette thought she had everything down by using her mechanical puppets to take care of you but that proved very wrong when you had nonstop tantrums and cried about wanting your real mommy claiming that these puppets were emotionless (which was true). She then had you with her at all times, including when she locks herself in her lab for hours on end focusing on her research and you’re right beside her with a puppet to bring you anything you want. You’re quite happy since you’re near your mommy and you can play and nap like you want, getting attention from time to time and when Sandrone wants a break she’ll bring you into her arms for a quick nap or cozy affections.

Is similar to Dottore about the necessities as she can pretty much make or get whatever you need and does “experiment” on you and it’s not what you think. She creates different blankets, pacifiers, and comfort clothes using different materials and learns what you like and what you don’t like. Her little one has a number of different toys (quite advanced and new) that she invented and some of them shockingly can respond to your babbles.

Since she brings you with her, where she’s traveling if there comes a time when anything dangerous happens she’ll use her main puppet that she sits on to open a sizable compartment where she’ll put her little in until the danger is over and then bring you out when this is over. Comforting you if you get scared and pulling out a small music box that sounds like your favorite song, running her fingers through your hair, and silently rubbing shapeless figures on your back.

Tartaglia

Oh my gods, this man doesn’t stop giving you gifts and toys so you have to have a couple of chests full or you share them with his siblings. You do know about his harbinger status however your little self loves the cover status he uses for his siblings and he takes great pride in encouraging it when he plays with you, joyfully claiming you’re his biggest customer and going in for tickles as a reward for being such an amazing patron (even when he had to explain to your regressed self what patron meant). Childe has a small playpen right next to his desk but back enough so he could hold your hand if you wanted and you giggled and babbled bashfully at the large space given to you. His heart warms when you draw crudely done pictures of both of you and show him with a very proud smile like a new soldier winning their first battle.

Might be one of the very protective ones even if he acts aloof and if even one person makes a move or gives off a harmful intent, he’s not holding back if the other person threatens him or his little one for a debt release and is washing some of the blood off of his clothes before he comes to see you. When you’re regressed or your mind is fuzzy you’re not sure why he always has you with him or promises that you’ll never get hurt or harmed in any way as long as he’s alive.

We all know this man is always on missions and on some of them he can’t bring you with him which pains him to no end, hoping you’re alright and his little one is not missing him too much. Like the others sent his most trusted soldiers to watch over you and care for your needs, often hearing that his siblings joined you for most of the day and smiling at the thought of you happily babbling on about your excitement. No harbingers are allowed to even be near you, especially not Il Dottore and the only exception in the fatui now was Arlecchino and Pulcinella.

It should be no surprise that the 11th harbinger spoils you with treats from all different nations and most of them are sugary or your favorite flavors. You have a whole pantry of snacks and food to nibble on if you’re hungry, they’re also non-complex foods and stuff you can easily just grab and eat. Even though your caregiver is very sweet towards you he is strict in the sense of making sure you’re nourished and not just made up of sugar. Childe also doesn’t want you to get sick or cavities if he can help it. So sweets are mostly kept to when you’re good or if he comes back/home from a long mission (usually with you there) and you’re happy either way, your favorite foods make you more agreeable.

Childe absolutely had a hard bedtime that he makes you follow however it doesn’t mean he’s just going to leave in bed to fall asleep in the dark and go about his own. He lets you pick a story for him to read or make up as you fall asleep and quietly sneaks out once he’s sure you’re sound asleep with little chance of waking up. If you have a nightmare he’ll let you cuddle with him and talk out your nightmare so it doesn’t seem scary anymore.

Pantalone

You are so spoiled by him and your whole room is filled with stuff you asked for and also didn’t ask for courtesy of your caregiver. He had a smaller version of the formal harbinger coat made for you and instructed you to wear it when you were outside with anyone, taking extra precautions with the fur and buttons so you couldn’t take them off or chew on them. He has a whole separate wardrobe of outfits for your little self and it’s all in your favorite colors. All you need to do is point to it and he’ll get it as soon as he can or if it’s someone else’s he’s not going to take it cause it’s not sanitary but he’ll make an identical one from scratch.

The banker seems not that violet or caring to anyone given his impartial opinion and blatant lack of care in La Signora’s death however that’s cause he didn’t really have any attachments to his colleagues because that’s all they were…colleagues. You are his one exception, as his lover you’re his first priority obviously over the money and when you are in your little headspace he’s not taking any chances with you. He has you with him in his office diagonally behind so he can still see you while you happily play with your toys all wrapped in blankets in case anyone bursts in with intent to harm either of you.

Pantalone’s almost always never sent on a mission since he stays in Schneznyah to take care of the Fatui’s grand finances as well as the major Northland Banks around Tevyat and that means staying at the homeland to get all the reports as soon as possible. He’s very grateful he doesn’t have to travel and gets to spend more time with you by his side, however, when he does have to leave for a mission he will take you with him every single time and doesn’t let you out of sight unless it’s with his most competent soldier. Whenever you both travel whether it’s on a boat, carriage, on foot, in the air, or on the Fontaine waterways he’ll have you with him to play with a coloring book and if it’s a long travel distance he’ll have you take a nap(if you throw a tantrum then you’re going to get sent to timeout).

Getting you to eat can be a struggle since you much prefer to nap than eat even if you need it to stay healthy and when you do eat because of Pantalone still spoiling you you have a very rich pallet or rather very expensive pallet. He’s glad that when you get hungry you don’t get really fussy you get quieter and pouty hoping your caregiver would tend to your needs. Your favorite thing to do is eat breakfast or dinner with your caregiver's lap as you both finish your meals and Pantalone lists off what he has to do today, telling you to go get your favorite toys and blanket before he heads in to do paperwork.

He is very strict on bedtimes and the reason is that you have a habit of being clingy when he has to get up which is pretty early as he has a lot of work to do as a harbinger but carefully slips in a pillow in place of himself which usually work and sometimes it doesn’t. You’ll happily snuggle into your “caregiver” as Pantalone quietly gets ready and has a soldier guard your room in case you get up or any issues come up, instructing them to report if any problems arise. Going to bed is always fun as you’re piled under blankets and he’s always snuggled next to you and reading you stories he’s heard from across all of the world.

#pierro x reader #pierro genshin impact #capitano x reader #capitano #dottore x reader #dottore #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino #columbina x reader #columbina #sandrone #sandrone x reader #childe tartagalia #childe genshin x reader #childe x reader #pantalone #pantalone x reader #harbingers x reader

[lycheedr3ams]

a broken man

konig x fem!reader (established relationship) warnings: low self-worth, mentions of war crimes, angst, mentions of smut, comfort, canon-typical violence mentioned

konig would never admit it, but the hardest part of your relationship for him was when you two made love.

you were the opposite of everything he had ever known. you weren't steel or kevlar or bullets or bombs or knives or war paint, you weren't screams in his ear telling him to just kill, nor were you the dead weight in his hands as his dead comrades' bodies were. you weren't the ringing in his ears after alarms went off, you weren't the blood that splattered his clothes, you weren't the empty darkness of his room as he lie awake each night, dreading what he'd see when he'd close his eyes. you weren't the scars on his chest or the bullet wounds in his back. you weren't the words that tore him down and made him look behind his shoulder whenever others were whispering.

instead, you were light. you were the warmth that welcomed him each day, the softness that invited him into yourself. you were the blanket wrapped around him, the warm hugs, the tender kisses. you were the one to bandage his wounds, the one to kiss them away. you were the soft hands that caressed his back, the gentle voice that wished him good morning, the soft hand that wrapped around his own calloused one. you were the one who smiled at him, laughed with him, loved him. you were the sweet words in his ear, playful love bites, a warm meal in somewhere he finally called home. your eyes were the ones that reflected love and comfort, not disdain or fear like everyone else he had known. you were the thing that kept his heart beating. no, even more than that, you were the one who gave his heart life again, long after he ever thought he could feel it beat again.

and that is all the reason why making love was so hard for him. after all the pain, loss, bloodshed, suffering, and nightmares he'd caused, the absolute last thing he thought he deserved was your warm, soft body letting him consume every part of you. your sweet moans in his ear contrasted so much the bloodcurdling screams he heard far more often, the weight he felt in his hands was your breasts and not bodies he dragged back to camp. your wetness guided and invited him in, so different from the wetness he felt in his eyes far too often when he was alone.

he knew he didn't deserve you. how could a broken man like him, one who escaped war criminal conviction for things he didn't want to do, deserve the only angel on earth? the same hands that gripped knives and guns and bombs also caressed the skin of a seraph, his bloodstained hands tainting the most pure, divine thing in existence. some days, konig swore he could see marks from his bloodstained hands on you. the same mouth that screamed and yelled and barked orders was the one that cooed into your ear how beautiful you were, how good you were for him, how he loved you. the same back that had been covered in body armor was the one naked to you, the same skin that he welcomed to be clawed by the least ferocious thing on earth.

konig never imagined how such a broken man like him could ever end up with you, the opposite of everything he had ever known. a broken man did not deserve a woman like you. but there you were underneath of him, moaning and pulling him in and begging for more. a broken man didn't deserve you, but you loved him anyway.

taglist: @osteawb, @sleepystaarr, @vvampir3s, @simpxinnie, @majocookie, @sharkyyyyyyyyyyyy, @marysdelrey, @kybeth5, @chaos-on-stand-bi, @shannonswizzies, @arcadia509, @bloodstoneruby, @cumikering, @skystreamchan, @junkratssheila-09, @kit-williams, @tangerynsbaby, @dreamdiaries777, @royalbxstxrd, @non-satanic-panic, @theweirdchick, @kiyomisan, @maylif, @mortimoshi, @eneiss, @daughter-ofthe-forest, @celi-xxmoon

#konig cod #cod mw2 #konig mw2 #konig fic #konig x reader #konig smut #konig imagine #konig #konig call of duty #konig headcanons #cod konig #konig fanfiction #konig modern warfare #konig x you #konig angst #konig dick #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction #könig modern warfare #könig mw2 #könig cod #könig #könig smut #könig x reader #könig x you

[emeritusemeritus]

Why aren’t you drinking? [Fred Weasley]

Title: Why aren’t you drinking?

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader (established relationship)

Timeline: Set around HBP (six months after Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes opened). No mentions of the war or Voldy.

Summary: The party is in full swing above Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, but Fred’s girlfriend just can’t seem to relax and enjoy herself.

Warnings: silly humour and fluff. Crude language, singular mention of male genitalia, brief mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink if you squint, established relationship. It’s implied that the reader lives with Fred and George above the shop.

The small flat above Weasley's wizard wheezes was thrumming with excitement, people dotted all around as the party raged on, the noise of music and radiant laughter filling the small living space. The twins were celebrating six whirlwind months of incredibly successful business since the store had opened, exceeding expectations in every way. Your friends were gathered, as well as employees and spouses, each person enjoying themselves as they talked, drank and danced in high spirits.

You were acting as a secondary host, ensuring that the food and drinks were topped up regularly, cleaning spills and messes to allow Fred and George to mingle and talk amongst their friends without worry. You were undoubtedly enjoying yourself but you couldn't help but feel slightly on edge. You didn't know if it was having so many people in your space, stress from hosting or something else but you had an astute intuition about what could be causing a lingering unease within you. You watched as each person held onto a red solo cup, a novelty that the twins had insisted on using ever since they had seen a couple of your beloved muggle films, seeing that they always seemed to be a vital component of a good party.

A few hours had passed and you had barely seen your boyfriend Fred and his brother George as they made their rounds, chatting with each person and lapping up the abundant praise they were deservedly receiving. You'd spent time with your friends, chatted with Ginny and Hermione and even played a few games of exploding snap with Ron and the group but nothing seemed to squash down the unease you felt whenever someone asked you if you wanted a drink. You'd politely declined every time and had insisted that you be the one to retrieve the drinks, effectively deflecting any unwanted questions about your lack of drink.

You were stood in the kitchen, pouring a cup of cola for yourself whilst grabbing a daisyroot draught for Ron when you felt a familiar pair of arms wrapping around your middle, immediately making you smile. You placed down the cup of cola you were about to drink as a precaution, not knowing would Fred would do next.

"Hello princess," Fred whispers, leaning in to you as he pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck which was unobstructed on account of your high ponytail. He was clearly intoxicated, swaying slightly as he attempted to stand still.

"Businessman Weasley," you teased, earning a playful little squeeze from Fred as he huffed a laugh into your neck.

"Mmm, missed you," he mumbles into your neck as he begins to pepper kisses along the side of your neck, right under your ear. He was slurring just enough for you to realise he was well on his way to being drunk, but not quite there yet.

"I would never have noticed," you teased, turning to spin in his arms to face him so that you could give him a proper kiss.

"Come on, I make food in here," George complained from behind you both, appearing by the door to the kitchen. His tone was playful and not ill-meaning, just dripping with sarcasm.

"I think you'll find, I make food in here," you retorted and he huffed out a laugh, simply nodding and shrugging at your reasoning, accepting that it was the truth.

Fred reached out behind you and grabbed your cup, taking a swig, before frowning at the taste.

"There's no alcohol in here," he says with a tone of disgust, as if it's a crime. You simply shrugged, turning in his arms to reach for Ron's drink that you still hadn't delivered.

"Not drinking eh?" George says, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and a pleased smile on his face, trying to stir the pot.

"Oooh, are you pregnant?" Fred teases, leaning down towards you to whisper in your ear so that George couldn't hear, though you couldn't miss the hopefulness in his voice. You knew he was smiling as he pawed at your waist, which made a warm feeling and butterflies wash over you, knowing what he wanted.

"Im not pregnant," you replied quietly, your tone neutral as to not sound too harsh or disappointed. A moment of silence passed between you and you had to fight not to look at Fred, knowing there would be a mild look of disappointment in his face.

"Then why aren't you drinking princess?" Fred asked, recovering quickly and returning to his usual playful and teasing demeanour.

You turned to look towards the door to see that George was currently occupying himself by rifling through the bags of snacks and wasn't paying attention to you.

"It's stupid," you replied, trying to stop his questioning but you should have known that would never had happened, especially with him being so buzzed.

"Nothing you say is stupid sweetheart," he replied, sounding sincere and entirely accepting. You huffed out a breath and accepted your fate, ready to be mercilessly teased.

"I'm worried if I get stupidly drunk, I'll try and climb into bed with George or something," you said, averting your eyes entirely.

It was a passing, joking comment from Ron at the start of the night which had prompted a downward spiral in your thoughts, realising that it could be a genuine possibility that once drunk you wouldn't be able to tell them apart and would make a complete fool of yourself. You'd always prided yourself on being able to tell the twins apart from each other and you were already ashamed at the notion you'd mix them up or worse, try and kiss or climb into bed with the wrong brother. Then Fred would notice and rightfully be furious, George would be disgusted with you, you'd argue, cry and no doubt ruin your relationship with one drunken misstep. The entire thought was mortifying and admitting it out loud to Fred only seemed to further your mortification on the matter.

You were suddenly brought back to reality at the sound of Fred's tumultuous laughter, seeing that he was nearly doubled over as he chuckled behind you, only worsening your embarrassment. You tried to pull away, feeling humiliated but Fred suddenly sobered up and stopped laughing immediately as he realised that was not the reaction he should have had. He moves to stand behind you once more and grabs your waist, effortlessly spinning you around so that you were caged in his arms, both of his hands resting on the counter each side of you

"That's what your worried about?" He says, looking up into your eyes. You nod, still not meeting his gaze.

"Sweetheart half the people here have called me George at least once tonight."

"Unless I'm mistaken, none of them have tried to kiss you though, thinking that you're George."

He understands immediately what you're saying and brings his hand up to cup your chin, gently forcing you meet his gaze, seeing that he is giving you a soft and understanding look.

"Sweetheart," he says softly, a small smirk tugging at his lips, "Even if that happened, I wouldn't be mad at you, especially if you were drunk, just as long as you didn't actually want George."

You felt an immediate sense of partial relief at his words, but the unease never truly left you, realising that Fred also knew it could be a possibility. You sighed again, and Fred lifted your chin once more. This time you noticed the usual playful look on his face, eyes twinkling with delight which told you he was preparing something.

"Besides, you're being silly," he says smirking, pausing for effect to watch your face contort into a small frown, "I have a much bigger cock than Georgie, you'd soon notice and come running back."

#fred weasley masterlist #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #harry potter #emeritusemerituswrites #emeritusemeritus

[heedmywarnings]

One last time

(Full Chapter)

In which you insult them one last time. (Aka me insulting pixels even tho I'm on Hiatus)

(Written when I was on Hiatus lmfao)

Warning: Cursing, lots of them.

》 - Chapter 2

Masterlist

♤~-~♤

You were finally captured. It took three months to get where you are, standing before you are the Archons who participated in the hunt, and now they will execute you.

"Before you here, is the Impostor that stole our beloved deity's face" Barbatos started, looking down upon the people, "As if you didn't" you said, barely a whisper "Would you like to repeat that, thief?" The Goddess of Justice whispered on your ear as she pulled your hair, "I SAID, AS IF YOU DIDN'T" you repeated, the crowd gasps because they are very very shocked because they gasped.

Also this moon cake im eating doenst taste good.

"What?"

"You were born from the desires of people, meaning if Decarabian wasn't a tyrant then you wouldn't even be born!" The crowd screams defending the Wind God, "Oh come on! He stole the face of his DEAD friend!" You yelled, "Don't get me started with how he abandoned his nation for the tyrants to just invade Mond. Lady Venessa freed Mondstadt from the Lawrence clan!" Technically, Venti did help but you need to get the crowd on your side.

"That's enough," Ei said approaching you as she unsheath her sword, "You also abandoned your nation! What? because your sister, THE TRUE RULER of Inazuma died?" At this point everyone is appalled.

"T-"

"Don't even get me started with you, you rat tailed motherfucker. You literally made a deal with the fatui, you knew Childe was gonna summon Osial and you let it happen. More so, you faked your own death because you didn't feel like ruling over Liyue? Or was it because you finally understood that you're just incapable of being an Archon? The only reason you survived the Archon War was the adepti and yaksha that you expended!"

"..."

"And who's to say you didn't commit any crime?" Ei said after the shock had dissipated, "What crime!? How do you think a mere mortal were to steal a God's face!?" You screamed through a horse voice, now you've got everyone talking, (like the jury in the Ace Attorney.)

"Is your god suffering from sever little-bitchitis to the point you'd hunt anybody who look REMOTELY similar to them?"

The Archons were stunned, it seemed like you made everyone hold their breathe. "Such blasphemy won't go unforgi-" "I don't need your forgiveness, you cockroach arthritis-suffering bitch," you cut Zhongli off.

"Hey now...let's not say something will regret, huh?" Nahida said, through the familiar gentle voice, "I won't regret anything that comes out of my mouth." You replied, not finding any reasons why Nahida should be insulted.

"By far, the only Archon that ever helped the Traveller was the Dendro Archon! And she was even locked up!" You said, "You, Barbatos, you just avoided any talk about traveller's twin. Morax, why did you sign a contract that silences you about their twin? Do they scare you that much? Are you really that weak and pathetic?" You said apathetically and sarcastically.

"I am under a contract, and I must abide by that contract," Zhongli replied with a more... confident form, you can't wait to crush it, "Didn't you also sign a contract with the mortals of Teyvat that you'd never hurt them? WELL WHAT ABOUT ME? WHY AM I AM EXCEPTION?" Technically, he didn't, but if they were gonna use lies and deception to win this argument, you might as well do the same.

"Because you're nothing but an Impostor, not even worthy to be called human" Ei said, striking her blade on your thigh, you gasped in pain. "Hah! And what are you? You were an Impostor that created another Impostor because you can't handle the guilt of being one!" At this point it was useless to argue, they were pissed off but the people? They don't believe you, but they've also lost faith to their Gods.

And so, what did you achieve? Death and your name on the history textbooks saying that you were the reason that Teyvat rebelled against their Gods...

So, are you ready to resurrect later in life to attack the Archons (verbally) once more?

Next chapter coming out idk when

#sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact #self aware genshin #sagau cult au #imposter sagau #sagau impostor au

[flowersandbigteeth]

Meeting your alien husband

General Plot: You've been sold to aliens so you are taking the bus to meet your new husband, only you are attacked and a kind alien steps in to help.

A/N: this is a longish multi part one that I'm editing and posting as I edit it. I've been wanting to do some yandere vs. yandere so that's kinda what this is, lol

Kherae alien x female reader with glasses

💕 SFW MASTERPOST 💕

Word Count: 4K

W: kidnapping, forced marriage, sfw alien fluff, yandere vs. yandere

Prince Levell grasped Elaine’s thin wrist, drawing her towards him. 

“You are the jewel of this court, my love, I’ll never let you go,” his tenor whispered in her ear. 

Your heart fluttered. You were almost finished with The Prince and the Dawn and it was even better than the prequel, The Thief and the Dusk. 

The villain, the first prince from the previous novel, having lost the object of his desire to the dashing hero, finally gets his happy ending with a blind hermit who softens his cold heart. Your eyes prickled with tears. 

Their love story…the way she changed the prince from a cold tyrant to a sensitive, benevolent ruler and brings happiness to the kingdom was incredibly romantic. You sighed, sniffling a little. If only such romances were real. Instead, you were trapped in a tragedy. 

The bus you were riding came to a stop and you hopped up to get off. You  took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other. You were on your way to greet your fate. 

You had been sold to the Kherae, the aliens that had descended on Earth and saved humans from the horrible Golt. There had been a long and brutal war, but finally it seemed as if The Golt had retreated and the galaxy was safe-er. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. When the Kherae discovered human females could breed with them, they promised humanity they only wanted voluntary relationships...mates, they said. They would not take. 

Maybe that was true for 98% of the handsome aliens, but there was a rotten apple in every bunch and you were about to meet one of them. Your father owed some nasty people a lot of money and they’d facilitated your sale to the corrupt Kherae archduke to clear the debt. 

You could have run away, disappeared and started a new life somewhere else. You didn’t owe your father anything, but you had a soft heart and you loved him. He’d built his business as a single dad with his blood, sweat, and tears. When organized crime moved into the neighborhood he wasn’t immune to their influence. Your father wasn’t a bad man and you wouldn’t let him lose everything he built or his life over mistakes he couldn’t have avoided. That’s why despite his protests, you were turning yourself in to your future husband. 

You steadied your breath as with each step your future came closer. 

A shriek escaped your lips as large hands latched onto your arms. You looked around to find you were surrounded by three or four human men. 

“This the one?” one of them said. 

“Yeah, (Y/C) hair, glasses, this is her,” another said. 

You struggled and tried to break free but they were thugs and there were more of them than you. You tried to scream for help, but a large hand clamped over your mouth and your glasses flew off of your face.You heard the glass crunch under someone’s foot. Your world had gone blurry. You were basically blind without them. 

Disoriented and terrified you kicked and scratched, but it was no use, the group was dragging you towards an alleyway. 

Suddenly there was a THUNK and the hands holding you released. Around you blurry figures moved and you could hear bone breaking, but you couldn’t process what was happening and just stood there clutching the hem of your skirt. Before long it was quiet and a large purple blur approached you. 

You held out your hands, trying to orient yourself and met firm forearms.

“Are you okay, miss?” a deep voice asked in Kherae. The translator you all had installed since the Kherae came to integrate worked out his words for you.  His large fingers twined with yours to steady you. 

“I’m fine. I just can’t see without my glasses,” you said, clinging to his strong fingers, “do you see them anywhere?” 

You heard the tinkle of glass. 

“I don’t think you will be able to use these,” he said and you knew your precious lifeline was destroyed. 

“Where are you going? I can help you get there,” he offered. 

You gave him a wan smile. 

“That’s really kind, but I couldn’t trouble you,” you said. 

He chuckled. 

“You aren’t going  to make it very far on your own, let me help. Where are you going?” 

“The Zovith building,” you explained. You were headed to the building owned by your future husband, a brand new glass and steel monstrosity in the middle of downtown.  

He halted. 

“Why are you going there?” he asked. 

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you thought better of it. 

“I’m going to meet my future husband,” you explained.

“You look frightened,” he commented. 

 “I committed to this and I want to make a good impression but I can’t go back home to get new glasses. I’m already late and if I don’t show up there are consequences.” 

He paused for a moment. 

“Then let’s get you there quickly,” he said and swept you up in his arms. 

You shouted in surprise, but he took off at a jog down the street. When you arrived he gently set you in a chair in the waiting room. 

“I’ll let someone know you’ve arrived. Just wait here,” he said.  

Your heart pounded in your chest. Almost being kidnapped had started the beat and now you panted as you waited for your fate. It was even worse because you couldn’t see anything. You wouldn’t even know what your husband looked like. 

–

“I don’t want to marry a filthy human,” Idreod’s brother sneered for the thirtieth time. 

Idreod ordered him to marry so that their family name would continue on. He had no interest in a wife, but if Dessin wanted to keep his monthly stipend he’d demanded that he would seed his family an heir. A wife seemed like a lot of trouble to him that could easily be delegated to a lesser, Dessin. He wouldn’t have their name be associated with a slew of bastard children, either. He would have a proper wife and represent the Zovith family well. 

Unfortunately for him, Dessin had a thing for Elians and had no interest in children. He planned on falling in love with a pleasure worker and pulling her out of destitution to earn her love. Elians weren’t biologically compatible with Kherae, so they would never bear children, but he didn’t care. It was a foolish plan, but at least he had romantic dreams. 

Up until that day Idreod’s plan for him was to buy him a wife, force them to marry, and take their child as his heir to hand down the Zovith duchy. He wasn’t a kind or benevolent Kherae. He made demands and his lessers followed them. 

Dessin did nothing but throw money away at pleasure houses, he could take on the small responsibility of fucking a human to pay for his good fortune to be born his brother. He’d never have to worry over the child. Idreod would continue to pay his stipend and raise it in his image. He and his wife could spend his money and take as many lovers as they liked as long as they were discreet. That was the cost of doing business. 

When the Kherae females had been extinguished all hope had been lost for a future for his family, but now that he’d learned that humans were universal breeders, the legacy he’d built could live on. The Zovith would become a dynasty. That was his vision. Human females could have two handfuls of children. He would herald in a prosperous generation. 

“Fine,” Idreod said, “you don’t have to marry her.” 

“What?” Dessin asked, looking at him, “what game are you playing at? I’m not donating my sperm if that’s what you’re suggesting.” 

He walked across his office to a drink tray one of the maids had provided and took a sip of some nutty alcohol. He poured some for his brother and handed him a glass, winking at him. 

“No game. I’m releasing you from your duty,” he said, smiling. 

He was in a good mood. That day had been productive. He’d almost made an egregious mistake marrying the beautiful woman he’d met on the street off to his idiot brother. He could already see his kits running around with his black horns and your (Y/EC) eyes. 

Dessin took a step towards him. 

“So you’re cutting me off then,” he said in a low voice. 

Idreod chuckled to himself. Of course he would be worried about that. Dessin couldn’t do anything for himself. If he were on his own, he’d already be living on the street. He relied on Idreod for everything. Fortunately, as the only other surviving member of the Zovith family, his brother indulged him. Someone should enjoy the wealth he accumulated and he had enough to last lifetimes. 

“Don’t panic. I’m not cutting you off. I’ve just had a change of heart. I’ve decided to take a wife after all,” he explained. 

He snorted. 

“You? Goddess, poor woman,” he chortled. 

“Well you can express your sympathy yourself when you meet her,” he hit a button on the tablet on his desk, “Airies, bring up Miss (Y/LN).” 

Dessin grinned. 

“This I’ve got to see,” he laughed, taking a seat in one of the plush chairs in his brother’s office, “what hideous shrew were you trying to stick me with?” 

A few minutes later Idreod’s secretary, Airies led the woman who would be his wife, you, in by the hand. 

You still couldn’t see and you were a bit unsteady on your feet, like a doe taking its first steps. You’d dressed for the occasion, wearing a chaste navy dress. You wore sensible, low navy heels. Idreod appreciated that you were demure. You’d make a perfect wife to an archduke. In front of you, you could only make out the brown of the office walls and a tall purple blob in front of you. 

“Um, hello,” you said, waving vaguely in the blob’s direction, “I was told to come here to meet my husband.” 

There was a thunk as a glass hit the table. A blob, who happened to be Dessin, rose from his chair and you looked at him startled, narrowing your eyes as you tried to focus. 

“You have to forgive me,” you said, “my glasses were broken in an attack on the way here. I can’t really see anything. I’m legally blind without them.” 

“That’s all right, beautiful,” Dessin said, taking your hand. Idreod glared at him, unsure what game he was playing. Was he trying to goad him?

He led you to the chair he’d just risen from. 

“Take a seat, I wouldn’t want my precious fiance to hurt herself stumbling around,” he went on, “you had a difficult time, please rest.” 

“You’re my husband?” you asked quietly, shaking a little. 

“No, he is not.” Idreod snapped, crossing the room and yanking Dessin away from you. 

“My brother is playing a little joke on you,” he said, “I am your fiance.” 

“Now wait a minute,” Dessin said, putting his hand on your shoulder, “I think I pushed my future wife away too easily. Now that I see her-” 

“No.” he bit out, “she is mine.” 

“But you promised her to me! Now I’m agreeing to it and you’re changing your mind. I’ll do it, okay? It’s fine!” 

“Absolutely not, if you are going to keep playing this game, get out,” he boomed. 

“I want her!” Dessin shouted like a petulant child. 

“That’s a shame, because. She. Is. Mine.” Idreod replied, slowly so he would understand. Dessin didn’t dare defy his brother. His whole life hung on his whims. 

You trembled openly in front of them and you couldn’t see it but Dessin glared, before storming out and slamming the door behind him. 

Your husband didn’t seem quite as nice as the male he had driven off. Of course, you would have that sort of luck. If only he could be more like that Kherae on the street who saved me. I didn’t even get a chance to thank him. 

“We’ll get you new glasses tomorrow,” he said curtly. 

“I didn’t bring anything with me, I wasn’t sure if I would be allowed to go home for my things,” you said, “they just told me to show up here.” 

“We will buy you new things,” he assured you. 

So no, then. 

He walked across the room, back to his desk and pressed a button on the tablet pad. 

“Airies, bring tea for Miss (Y/LN),” he said in a clipped tone. 

A minute later the shorter Kherae came in with a tray of tea, which he set down in front of you. You fumbled around the tray with your hands for the cup. 

You heard a chair scrape the floor and the blob was in front of you. 

“Here,” he said, his large fingers gingerly guiding you to the cup. They were a bit familiar, but you were too nervous to worry about it. 

You drew the tea to your lips and took a shaky sip. The warm water and jasmine scent was a blessing. You felt like you were walking a tightrope. You could feel the heat of his body near you and just barely caught the scent of familiar cologne. Maybe you had smelled it in a shop before. What will he do with me? The teacup hit the saucer with a rattle. He rose and retreated across the room, back to his desk. 

“Our wedding will be in a month,” he said, getting right to the point. 

No, “let’s get to know each other.” Just, “We’re getting married.” 

“It will be a large event because of my status as archduke, so I will need to prepare you. It’s likely the king will attend and you cannot offend him,” he stated crisply. 

He’s quite arrogant. 

“Sure,” you said, looking at your shoes, “I’ll do my best.” 

“You will be perfect because I will prepare you,” he said. 

Great. 

You tried not to groan in front of him. He didn’t seem like a male who tolerated attitude. 

“Can I ask you something?” you said, still looking at your feet. 

“You can ask me anything,” he said, which surprised you. 

“Will you be gentle with me? You know…when it’s the first time…?” 

There was a pause. 

“We’ll speak more about bedroom matters when we are better acquainted. I have no interest in taking a stranger between my sheets,” he said and you felt silly for saying anything. 

Your new husband surprised you again. You assumed he would be cold when it came to passion, but he seemed a bit sentimental. 

“What should I call you?” you asked, trying to change the subject quickly. 

“Idreod, you will be my wife so you may call me by my first name,” he said. 

“I’m (Y/N),” you offered. 

He paused.

“I know.” 

“Oh.”

There was a bit of an awkward pause.

“Um…so what do you do for fun?” you asked the first thing that popped into your mind. 

“Fun?” he asked in a chilly tenor. 

“Right, you probably don’t-” you trailed off and blushed. 

“I’ve never done anything in my life for fun,” he said blandly. 

“Of course not,” you agreed. 

“I do like training…” he offered, sounding suspiciously shy. 

“Do you think I could train with you?” you asked. 

There was silence. 

“Why would you want to do that?” he asked, “you’ll hold me back. You are nowhere near my skill level.”

You blushed. 

“You’re right. That was stupid of me…I just thought…” 

You paused.

“You thought…? Don’t leave sentences unfinished. It’s a sign of poor will.” 

You gulped. 

“I just wanted to get to know you better since you’re going to be my husband and all,” you said the words all in one rushed breath. 

“Ah, that’s wise. You’re quite clever. You should know what pleases me. I will compose a document of my likes and dislikes and have Airies pass it to you when it’s complete. You can study it,” he said. 

You blinked. 

“Um…okay, then,” you mumbled. That wasn’t exactly what you’d meant. 

“Do you have any aptitude for mathematics?” he asked. 

“I’m sorry?” you asked, unsure where this was going. 

“You are a Zovith now.  Starting today I will need to train you to be my replacement as head of the family in the case of my untimely death. As you saw, my brother is an idiot. If you are remotely competent, I’ll need to show the basics of running the estate. 

“You came here, unsure of what to expect on your own two feet, so I know you have enough spine for it. Of course, your main role here is mother to my heirs, but it is always a good idea to prepare contingencies and I am very thorough.” 

Your mouth hung open. You weren't sure if you were being complimented or insulted. Were you a broodmare or future head of the family? 

“I worked in finance,” you said, “I can handle a bit of business arithmetic.” 

“Hmph,” he said to himself, “she can’t be worse than Dessin.” 

“Allright,” he went on, “tomorrow I will bring your father to the estate and you will begin working with me on it.” 

“My father?” you gasped. You were sure you’d never see him again. A bit of the ice in your heart melted in relief. 

His tone got stern. 

“Yes, (Y/N), I am an archduke. I can’t be associated with street level criminals. Your father will be brought here and given some frivolous role to disconnect him from organized crime. It can’t get out that he sold you to me, so it must appear that we are in some way associated. He can be vice president of a vineyard or something. I’m told we have some in our portfolio.” 

You stood up, annoyed. 

“But my father built his business from the ground up!” you snapped, “you can’t just yank him away from it. That was the whole point of all this!” 

“Being father of the archduchess of Akhet is a far more important role than some silly laundry shop!” he barked back. 

“You don’t know anything about what’s important,” you griped. 

“I will educate you on that,” he said firmly. 

You huffed, but you couldn’t even see him to give him a proper stink eye. 

“I think we’ve all had enough excitement for today,” he said, sounding a bit tired, “I’ll have Airies take you to your room.” 

You took a deep breath, trying to gather control over my emotions. 

The shorter blob that was Airies came a moment later and escorted you out, by the hand. 

“Please excuse the archduke, my lady. I can see he’s upset you,” Aries said as your heels clicked on the marble floor, “he’s never been in the company of a female for more than a paid hour. We’ve all gotten used to his prickly attitude, but it must be shocking to someone new.” 

You snickered a little and pressed your lips together to try and hide it, but you could hear the smile in Airies’ voice. 

He led you  to a room and helped you find the bed. 

“I’ll have the optometrist come see you in the morning and we will have your prescription prepared,” he said, handing you a soft, folded negligee. He guided your hands over to a small tablet screen. His fingers were much more soft and narrow than the archduke’s. 

“Press one of these buttons if you would like a maid to come help you,” he said. 

He paused at the door. 

“If you don’t mind me saying this, my lady, it’s been a long time since we Kherae have had someone fair and soft to care for, please take full advantage of that. If you want anything at all, you only need to ask.” 

You nodded and thanked him and he left you to change into your nightgown. You wished you could have seen it properly, because it was very soft and cozy. You were just tucking yourself into the covers when there was a knock at the door. 

“Hello?” you asked, “come in…” 

The door wasn’t locked. You wondered if it was a maid. Instead a purple figure filled the doorway. It wasn’t Airies, because he was shorter, but it wasn’t quite as tall as the duke. 

“It’s me Dessin,” the archduke’s brother said, “we didn’t have a chance to be properly introduced.” 

You blushed. 

“It’s a little strange for you to come so late,” you said, a little frightened. 

He chuckled. 

“I have no ill intentions. I just wanted to say something to you privately without my brother around,” he said, “since you will be my sister soon, there are things you should know about him.” 

“Oh?” you asked, “well then say it quickly. I was just going to sleep.” 

“It’s just that…I want you to know I’m on your side (Y/N). My brother is a monster. He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t know anything about love or passion, he just wants another pawn to play with. If you need help or a confidant…just know you can rely on me,” he said. 

You chewed your lip. You weren’t sure what to make of that, but there is one thing you needed help with. 

“Well there is one thing. You probably know everyone in the building, right?” 

“Yes, of course,” he said.

“When I was attacked today, I was saved by a kind Kherae. I didn’t have my glasses on so I couldn’t see him and I was frightened so I hardly remember anything about him. Do you think you could ask around? I’d like to thank him personally.” 

There was a pause.

“Oh…(Y/N). You don’t recognize me?” he asked. 

You blinked, confused.

“You?” 

You could have sworn your protector had been taller, but you’d been frightened, you may have inflated his assets. 

“Yes, I was the one who found you today,” he said, “and I brought you back here.” 

That didn’t sound quite right, but who would lie about something like that? You must have just remembered him incorrectly. 

“Oh, silly me. I must have really been frightened,” you said and wobbled across the room to him. You leaned up on your tiptoes and kissed him on his cheek. He didn’t smell quite right either, but you brushed it off. Perhaps he’d had a shower. 

“Really, Thank you,” you said, “I think I’ll head to bed now, if you don’t mind.”

Dessin was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat. 

“Right,” he said, “well…goodnight (Y/N). Remember what I said. If you need me, I’m here.”When you were under the covers, you sighed. What luck did you have that the brother of your soon to be husband was the nice one? What would your life be like if he had been the one to win the fight over you earlier? This was a tragedy of course, not a romance, you reminded yourself as you fell asleep. 

#alien fluff #sfw alien fluff #monster fluff #sfw monster fluff #exophelia #x reader #monster x reader #alien oc #alien x reader #yandere male #yandere fluff #yandere x reader

[jifanjiang0710]

Dinner with the Stellaron Hunters

yandere kafka x reader x yandere blade

“SILVER WOLF!”

Your fists start to hurt from all the pounding. She’s locked her door again. “Time for dinner!” She can definitely hear you. Whether she responds or not is her choice.

“Boss fight!” She yells back.

“Come downstairs quickly!” Scurrying down the flight of stairs, you stop at Blade’s room. An ominous reddish glow is emitting from under the door, reeking of death… or is it your imagination? You raise your hand to knock, before a voice from behind sends chills down your spine.

“What are you doing?”

Turning to meet his scowling visage, ever-unchanging (SW likened him to an NPC), you see Blade glaring down at you, and neither of you speak.

“…dinnertime.”

He slinks off.

You groan irritably. You do everything in this house. Thankfully, Kafka is already at the table.

After a quick scan of the seating, you heave a sigh of relief. There is a seat at the table between Kafka and Blade. Thank the aeons. As you head for the spot, Silver Wolf plops herself down onto the chair in all her glory, eyes not leaving the handheld console. You stare dumbfounded for a minute, partly at the audacity, the rest a growing conflict arising from within you.

The most vexing decision of the night: sitting next to Kafka, or Blade. Only one party can be sated, and the other will then shower you with the fruits of their displeasure for the rest of the night. Tread lightly in this delicate situation.

Choose Kafka, who lets her fingers glide up your thighs, particularly when you are drinking; who whispers vile things in your ear as you try to focus instead on the noises from Silver Wolf’s console; who sometimes holds a spoon to your mouth and expects you to say ahh...

Or choose Blade, who barely tries to hide his growing fascination with you at this point; whose fiery eyes bore into you carrying a heavy sort of intensity that cannot be described; who you know has no qualms about cornering Kafka’s favourite pet and finding out just what makes you so special to her.

The purple-haired woman notices your hesitance, chuckling breathily. She takes the initiative to beckon you over, with a single curl of her fingers. You trot towards her, deeming her, just for tonight, the lesser of two evils. Then you catch sight of his gaze. It’s a warning and a threat, all expressed within a single flash of the eyes.

“What’s wrong, little one?”

“I- I….” You feel yourself starting to sweat at this minor conundrum. How can you defy a direct order from Kafka?

She sighs, evidently disappointed at your lack of decisiveness. “Oh, go on. I’m sure Bladie deserves you for just one night, with how long he has been eyeing up what’s mine.”

The tension builds, and you bite your tongue. That sentence was biting, indirectly instigating another cold war between both hunters. So, gathering up stray remnants of courage you take a seat next to him.

The atmosphere is even more strained.

“Ah…how is your hand?” You direct the question to the man sitting beside you, glare turning less pointed. “Has it healed?”

“Yeah,” SW says suddenly, accusatory. “How is your hand?”

He sighs, irked. “Still healing. Isn’t it obvious?” For it was still wrapped in bandages.

“Blade, our supply of bandages is depleting. The others need them too. Is it really necessary to cover your torso?” He can very well heal himself should the need arise, and any pretense on his part is to avoid having to game with Silver Wolf. Blade ignores you, as if you’d committed a crime against him personally.

Kafka is unusually quiet.

You chide Silver Wolf to finish off her broccoli.

“Oh dear. Little one?”

Her sudden shift of attention to you makes you jump. “Yes, Kafka?”

“Will you be a dear and run off to fetch a cloth for me? I seem to have spilt some soup onto my lap.”

Blade watches intently as you fuss over her, asking whether there are burns, if she is alright, and run off to pour another bowl for her.

His fists clench, tightening around the bowl. “That was intentional.”

“What an astute observation, Bladie. And do you keep your uninjured hand bandaged so my little one may continue clouding their pretty little head with concern for you?”

“They do not enjoy being toyed with, treated like the fragile doll you make them to be.”

“And they don’t seem to like treading on eggshells whenever you are in the vicinity either, or stared down in the way a rabid beast would reserve for its prey.”

“You think you are almighty, Kafka-”

“Oh, but I am. Everything I orchestrate, as I predict, shall come to fruition.”

“Just because you claim control over me, you will not be the most powerful, nor the most infallible. You know just as well as I do, Kafka, and even you cannot deny it. [Name] would be better off anywhere but with you.”

“And if Elio were to say otherwise? Will you continue deluding yourself in such pitiful manner?”

A sharp noise of a crack emanates as the bowl chips under his grip. “…very well.” Blade says, after a second of contemplation. He looks up at the woman opposite of him, the intensity of his gaze like piercing wind, “Let us ask Elio.”

Kafka does not answer, but the slight stiffen of her lower lip speaks volumes. She crosses her arms.

“Listen, Bladie-”

“Enough! Kafka, what did I say about commanding Blade? And Blade, that’s the third one you’ve broken this month. Please be more careful.” The two tear their gazes away from each other.

“My mistake, little one,” Kafka responds breathily, as though this matter were of minimal importance to her.

“I think I cut my finger from the shard,” says Blade.

You turn towards him, raising an eyebrow. He clears his throat, trying to appear innocuous. “…it hurts.”

“Do you need a bandage? You seem to have an abundance of it.” A petty remark by that woman, intent on having your attention solely focused on her.

He meets your eyes. “It still hurts.” On the surface, what with his deadpan expression, it sounds like a command, an order to tend to me. You hear it for what it really is, a plea for attention.

“Aw, fine. Give me your hand. Where does it hurt?”

Kafka’s turn to watch on as you examine his (supposedly) injured finger. You feel an odd sensation of impending doom…

“May I be excused?” Without giving you time to respond, the young gamer stands, tossing her plate into the sink and scampering upstairs once again. You look down and see that your own bowl has been piled suspiciously high with vegetables.

This girl… You sigh, but do not protest this time.

For the night, the Stellaron hunters disperse.

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

On a more wholesome note:

His phone buzzes. Fumbling a bit with the home screen, he swipes. It’s a message from Kafka.

That Woman: Kys

She receives a reply in return.

Bladie: One day I will.

‘I can only eagerly await that day’

‘As will I.’

‘You’re lying, Bladie~’

‘What.’

‘You no longer want to die, do you?’

‘Good night.’

‘Ah, don’t chicken out. They make you, for the first time in a long time, want to live. I can tell. You’re intrigued.’ ‘…’ ‘Hello?!’ ‘Leaving me on read again?’

He sets the phone down, sighing deeply.

The window shutters are half closed, swaying gently in the breeze. There is a dim starlight scattering the night sky. It reminds him of a home he had lost a long time ago. The wind picks up, blowing away a stray strand of hair off his shoulder.

He does not know how he got there, but his shadow looms over your room door. After some hesitation, he knocks.

#yandere x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere star rail #yandere star rail x reader #leos works #guess who got blade at 8 pity #and his light cone #and still have 131 pulls left for kafka #yandere kafka #yandere blade

[justabratsworld]

Yo uh Its my first time asking or requesting (idk why I'm so nervous help☠️)

uh..can I request er

CAN YOU PLEASE DO MORE OF YANDERE KING X READER PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU (please) 🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐

🥹🫶🏼 absolutely bby

King Tobias wasn’t always this crazy. One would argue he was the best king this kingdom has had in a long time. He was level headed, made logical decisions, cared for his people and most importantly he valued people’s lives. He wasn’t one of those kings who went to war for the fame and power. He didn’t send people to the guillotine for small petty crimes. Instead he rehabilitated them. He always made sure to give back to his people.

Then…you came along.

Something about you made his brain feel fuzzy. At first he didn’t understand why he constantly thought about you. He was confused, he had a beautiful woman beside him as his queen and here he is thinking about you. Sure, he and his wife had no love between them but he still cared deeply for her.

The day he when he first spilled innocent blood will go down in history as the day the king lost his mind. It was a beautiful day, the birds were singing and the flowers were at their peak bloom. The people of the small village were getting ready for the moonlight festival. As night began to fall, the kings knights arrived with torches. One of them managed to find you, hiding in your pitiful home.

As the knight held you in a kneeling position the king asks you one more time. “Oh my dear, my beloved, come with me. Be mine.” Disgust shows on your face as you boldly look away and mutter you would rather die than to be with him.

With a disappointed smile the king gives the knights a queue and they start burning down the small village. As you look around and see all the people running in terror your heart stops when you see your mom and dad being dragged and executed. Before you could get a word out, everything went dark.

The next time he killed, he did it himself. It was when you first came back home. You were still adjusting to your new and better life, not knowing that the walls have eyes and ears. You thought the king wouldn’t find out about your love affair with a kitchen boy. Nights being spent tangled together, early mornings whispering forever i love yous.

Tobias remembers the look on your face, with tears and snot running down as you beg him to spare your lovers life. To have mercy. As he bent down, wiped the tears from your eyes, he whispered “My beloved, this is all your fault.” With that, he took the mans life without a single thought in his mind.

Now, Tobias is a man who believes in being fair so once he took away your lover, he got rid of his own. All the concubines were sent to the dungeons (if they behaved they became servants) . If one of them ever made a remark that was negative about you, they were hanged. If any woman tried to seduce him to become his mistress got sent to the dungeons to be punished for attempted of adultery (ironic).

As for the Queen, she knew what her fate was going to be. She hoped by turning a blind eye to her husband actions would favor her but in the end, she knew she should’ve left when she had the chance. The king was gentle with her, made sure she didn’t suffer. She simply went to sleep, and never woke up.

Now, look at you, all dressed up as the new queen. Sitting in your dear husband’s lap as you watch your 4 children play. Your 3 boys and your precious daughter playing tag, living their life at ease. With no fear of their father, not knowing the monster he can be.

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader

[hotreadingwitch]

Daemon x Reader - A Room with a View

Content Warnings/Kinks: cheating/infidelity, use of fingers for foreplay, hair pulling, light spanking, dominance, aggression, praise kink, choking, biting, oral sex, ‘doggy style’, penetrative/vaginal sex

A Room with a View 

Y/n looked to the right, taking in the views of the clear water below, breathing in the salty air, and listening to the waves crashing against the bridge that leads upward to the Dragonstone castle. She closed her eyes, letting her senses be overwhelmed by the sea when she heard familiar footsteps approaching.

“Daemon” she greeted, her eyes still closed. 

“Y/n” 

“You don’t sound excited to see me” she quipped. 

“Forgive me if I don’t feel up to the coming weeks of torture” 

That got Y/n to open her eyes. 

“Torture?” She cocked her head to the side. 

“I think being endlessly tempted by my wife’s infuriatingly gorgeous cunt of a sister counts as torture yes” 

“What a way with words you have Daemon” she chuffed, “You certainly know how to please a lady” 

“You mock me now” he growled, his eyes slits, before leaning in to whisper in her ear, “But do not doubt my ability to please…” 

~ 3 days later ~ 

Light footsteps tread carefully behind Y/n as she stared out at the sea from the war room in Dragonstone. Over the last few days, the space, with its incredible view, had become one of her favourite hideaways. 

“You’ve got to stop trying to sneak up on me Daemon” Y/n breathed haughtily, “You know my ears are sharper than yours” 

A hand caressed her waist, causing her to turn around and face him. 

“What if I just want to be around you?” He countered with a dangerous look in his eye, “Would that be such a crime?” 

“Daemon…” she hesitated, placing a hand on his chest, stopping him from coming any closer. 

His face softened and he moved back, letting her hand drop from his warm chest to her side. 

“If you don’t want me to, say it and I will leave you to your thoughts and the waves” 

“I do want you” she whispered, a gentle confession, her eyes flitting up to meet his gaze, “You’re all I’ve ever wanted” 

Daemon slid his hands down the sides of her body in an instant, gripping her thighs under the lightweight fabric of her gown, and picking her up. Her lips crashed down onto his as he moved them to the war table, placing her on the hard edge. His hands slid lower, grazing her ass and pressing his chest down onto hers. 

“Won’t Mysaria mind My Prince?” She questioned, out of breath between kisses. 

He gripped her flesh tighter, “She won’t mind what she’ll never know” 

Daemon’s kisses were intoxicating, truly like a poison, the kind that kills you so slowly that you don’t realize something is wrong until it is too late. As their lips found each other again and again, Daemon’s hands wandered lower, gently skimming the skin above her cunt. 

“My love” he murmured, “Please tell me I can…”

“Yes” she replied instantly, cutting him off, “Yes, Daemon please” 

Breaking away from her lips, he looked her right in the eye as he pulled down her undergarments and connected his calloused fingers to her clit. He began flicking it at an achingly slow pace, making her back arch and her breath hitch in her throat. 

“Mmm,” she moaned quietly. 

She whimpered, sensitivity shocking through her as she rocked against his palm. Her hips bucked, almost involuntarily, endlessly pleased by his slow, teasing fingers.

“You like that?” He questioned, cocking his head to the side. 

“Uh-huh” she breathed, her voice a low whine. 

“Uh-huh?”

The look in his eyes was practically monstrous, like the blood of the dragon was boiling within him. 

“Yes” she amended quickly, “Yes, My Prince”

“That’s better love” he grinned, his smile a smooth curve, before adding in a low voice, “You know I like it when you use your words for me” 

As Daemon continued rubbing the pads of his fingers around and around her needy clit, Y/n felt like she could barely breathe. She cried out, feeling herself throbbing more and more with every minute that he touched her. Licking his bottom lip, he looked up at her with cocky, glazed-over eyes, before staring down at her wet cunt.

“Tell me Y/n…when you’re wet and ready for my cock” he groaned, “I need to hear you say it” 

“Daemon please” she begged, “I need you in me…”

“Fuck” He leaned back, exposing his long neck to her and sucking in a sharp breath, “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it love or I won’t be able to control myself” 

She grabbed his hand and pulled it further down, above her wet cunt, “Touch me, touch me and you’ll see that I mean what I say” 

Daemon curled his palm downward, cupping her roughly without breaking eye contact before gliding a finger over her hole. 

“Fuck, you’re soaking” he practically growled, his voice dark with lust. 

Daemon rubbed his hand over her slit again and again like a man possessed, like he was drunk on the feeling of how her wetness coated his long fingers. 

“Turn around” he then commanded. 

Y/n turned, gasping as she felt his hard cock pressed up against her ass from behind. She bent over, reaching back and spreading her ass cheeks for him, giving Daemon the access they both craved. 

“Gods” he groaned through gritted teeth, running his hand down her spine, making her shiver, “You’re so good for me love, do you want my cock in you?” 

She grabbed at him, pulling him even closer, her voice a quiet breath, “Please” 

Daemon teased her hole until his tip was glazed with a layer of her wetness. Y/n gasped then, as he shoved his entire shaft into her without warning. Her back arched and her body tensed, tightening around him instantly. 

“Ahhh” she moaned. 

He spanked her ass, twice for good measure, before beginning to thrust…and Gods did it feel good. When Daemon fucked someone he fucked them deep and he fucked them hard. 

“Harder” she begged. 

And he complied, tightly gripping her hair in his rough palms, making her back arch even more as he pounded her like he hated her guts. Her breathing was becoming ragged but it almost stopped altogether when Daemon squeezed his sturdy hand around her neck, pulling her upward so that her front was pressed to his taut chest.

“You know how hard you make things for me Y/n?” he groaned in her ear as he fucked her, the sound of their skin slapping echoing around the room, “You’ve been here for three days and as each one passed it's been harder and harder for me to resist you” 

Y/n whimpered, gasping and overwhelmed as Dameon slid his other hand down to her clit, rubbing familiar circles around it, adding to her pleasure. 

“Do you know how difficult it is for me to see you walking around my castle, huh? To see you at every meal sitting beside my wife, your sister, when all I want is you? If I had it my way you’d be bent over for me every day until you leave” 

Daemon flipped her around and in an instant, her chest was flush with his, their faces inches apart. He caressed her cheek gently with his thumb before sliding it down toward her mouth. 

“Open” 

She obeyed, allowing him to slip his finger past her raw lips and into her mouth. She flicked it lightly with the tip of her tongue before fully sucking on it. Daemon smiled down at her, pleased by her obedience. 

“Yes, good girl,” he said, sliding back into her roughly, making her gasp again at the feeling of his length. But he kept still, not yet thrusting. 

“Beg for it”

“Daemon” she breathed, squeezing around him, desperate to cum, “Daemon, Daemon, please” 

His eyes rolled back, enjoying the feeling of her wrapped around his hard cock. When he pulled back out of her and then began to thrust again, he had to grip one of her hips tightly so that he didn’t cum right then and there. 

“Oh yes,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering closed. 

Soon, Y/n felt a tightness spreading across her chest and a warmth pooling in her cunt.

“Are you going to cum for me, my love?” He cooed, adding when she tightened even more around him, “Yes, yes, cum on this cock, use my cock and cum for me” 

“Fuck” she cried out, overwhelmed by the feeling of his fingers on her clit and his cock stuffing her perfectly. 

She bit down on to his jaw, attempting to muffle her own moans as they got louder and louder, reverberating off of the cave-like ceiling of the war room. He thrust harder with each second that passed, pumping in and out of her at an impossible pace.

“Daem—oh—Gods you’re fucking me so good” 

Y/n shivered as she came, the waves of her orgasm overwhelming her. Daemon held her upright, never once stopping his fingers on her clit. She cried out, her back arching and cunt tightening even more when she felt his cum splashing inside her. 

“Yes” he groaned, resting his forehead on hers, “So good for me, so perfect, mmm” 

She laughed breathily when they finally finished, kissing his jaw where she had just bitten it, reviewing the small mark she’d accidentally made. 

“You’re going to have to cover that somehow, you know” 

“Or I could let everyone see it…” 

“And let those in court know, let my sister know you’ve been unfaithful?” 

Daemon kissed her lightly, caressing her sides as he did. 

“I’m not ashamed of you Y/n” he stated, pushing her sweaty hair back from her face, “Nor will I ever be” 

She looked up at him, her cheeks still flushed and breathed in how the salty air of the sea mixed with Daemon’s musk, creating the perfect scent. 

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon x reader #daemon smut #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #oneshot

[blackdreadbalerion]

morning glory

PAIRING ⇢ Prince Aegon II Targaryen x fem!Reader [Name]

RATING ⇢ 18+ | minors don’t interact!

SUMMARY ⇢ Prince Aegon and his wife enjoy a slow morning together

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇢ ok here goes nothing (bare with me this took a lot of willpower because i am my own harshest critic). if you do have any advice or constructive critic i am very happy to listen and learn, so feel free to let me know. to be honest, i don't know how i ended up writing for Aegon because I am an Aemond girl first and foremost. But somehow this idea made its way into my brain and i couldn't help myself, so..

Also, a big thank you to @aemonds-war-crime for helping me figure out how to tag this correctly!

WARNINGS ⇢ mostly smut | sexual content | reader is asleep at the start but it is implied she gave her consent prior (this scene is part of a longer work) | maybe some fluff?

WORD COUNT ⇢ 1'408 words

Aegon blinks open his eyes, groaning quietly as he rolls out of the sun, closer to his sleeping wife.

[Name] seems to be dead to the world still, and for a while, Aegon contents himself by watching the rays of sun moving up her back, bathing her in a soft glow, making her look even more ethereal.

Eventually, his gaze starts to slide lower, to the soft pink flesh he can see between her legs. There are some spots of white substance on her thighs, and he bites his lip as he remembers the night before, how she had writhed underneath him, always pulling him closer, taking whatever he gave to her, even demanding more, telling him that she wanted to keep him inside of her until they woke up.

“I have been blessed by the gods,” he murmurs to himself, one of his hands lowering to stroke his cock as he reaches out with the other, running a gentle finger down her back and between her folds.

[Name] mumbles something intelligible in her sleep, shifting one of her legs a little bit, almost as if to give him permission.

His mind set, Aegon slips closer on the bed, wetting his cock on her folds before slipping it inside her wet heat in one long thrust.

“A-ah…what-Aegon?” his wife yelps as she wakes up, one of her hands grabbing onto his arm as he wraps it around her chest.

“Good morning, wife. I apologize for not waking you up. You were simply too tempting to resist. And it is my name day, after all. I should be allowed to do whatever I wish today, do you not agree?” he asks her, his cock twitching inside of her as he holds himself still.

[Name] lets out a quiet snort, her eyes meeting his over her shoulder. Aegon can’t help but smile at the genuine warmth he finds in her lilac eyes, and he leans down to press a few fluttering kisses against her shoulder and neck.

“Do you not always do whatever you wish, dear husband?” she teases him, all the while pushing herself back towards him, letting him know without words that he can keep going.

Aegon growls quietly, his hips starting to move of their own accord, and his free hand moves down her front, teasing along her breasts before cupping her mound and rubbing soft circles.

[Name] lets out a quiet moan at his ministrations, throwing her head back against his chest, her eyes fluttering closed. She lifts her leg a little bit, opening up for him beautifully, and Aegon rewards her with a biting kiss to her jaw, leaning over her to finally plunder her mouth as she lets him do as he pleases.

With the combined assault of both his cock and his finger, it doesn’t take long for [Name] to reach her peak, her cunt tightening around Aegon, and he grits his teeth to keep himself from following after her, fucking her until her body stops shaking.

“My love, my beautiful wife. I wish for you to ride me. Take your pleasure from me, show me you are mine and I am yours, my little dragon,” Aegon whispers into her ear before pulling out, his cock bobbing up towards his stomach, swollen with need.

[Name] follows after him, turning onto her hands and knees as she crawls over him, leaning down to teasingly press a hot kiss to his tip on the way.

“Do not keep me waiting, my love, please,” Aegon rasps out, only to let his head fall back onto the bed when she takes him inside her once more, settling into his lap in a smooth movement.

“Ngh, you feel so good inside of me, husband,” [Name] breathes, leaning over him, her hands settled on his chest as she starts to move her hips.

Aegon slides his hands up her thighs, content to watch as she uses him for her own pleasure, quiet gasps falling from her mouth.

He can tell when she is close to reaching her peak, her movements losing rhythm, but he keeps still, licking over his lips.

“Touch me. Please, Aegon. I need you to touch me,” [Name] begs, one of her hands sliding down her body towards her center.

A smirk spreads on Aegon’s face as he reaches out and pushes her fingers away, toying with her cunt, circling his thumb over the little nub.

“Let yourself go, my love,” he commands, pushing his hips up to meet hers with every thrust.

[Name] throws her head back with a gasp, a visible shiver running down her body as she shakes on top of him, riding out her high with his help.

Once her peak has passed, [Name] collapses onto his chest, pressing a kiss to his collarbone as her breathing slows down.

“Take what you need from me, husband. Use me as I have used you,” she whispers into his ear a few seconds later, and Aegon lets out a happy groan at her words, resuming his movements once more as he holds her close.

Chasing his own peak, Aegon wraps his arms around his wife, pistoning his hips up into her warmth, until she clenches around him, pushing him over the edge as he lets go. His hips stutter and he holds [Name] down on his lap as he grinds against her, riding out his release, both of them breathing heavily.

“If only I could wake up like this every day, I believe the realm would be a much better place,” Aegon eventually breathes out, tilting his head as he grins up at his wife.

[Name] shakes her head with a soft laugh, leaning down to press her lips onto his, her fingers playing with his hair and running along his face.

“You truly are insatiable, Aegon. Is it not enough to have my evenings and my nights, now you want my mornings too?” she asks him, whispering the words against his lips in between kisses.

Aegon chuckles, running his fingers down [Name]’s sides in a teasing caress and settling at her waist, carefully lifting her as he pulls out, his seed slowly trickling down her legs.

“I will never get enough of you, my love. You are mine now. Mine to fuck, mine to hold, mine to worship. Every little piece of you is mine, and I will gladly prove it to you and the rest of the realm every day.”

A soft smile spreads on [Name]’s face as she rests her chin on his chest, and Aegon wraps an arm around her, keeping her close.

“You are mine too, Aegon. Mine to cherish, mine to keep. Mine to love.”

Their tranquil moment is rudely interrupted when the door to his chambers slams open, revealing Aemond, followed by his servants.

Aegon groans, pulling his bedsheets up to cover his wife from their eyes - he might have no shame, but [Name]’s body is only his to see.

“What is it? Why must you interrupt our nice morning?” he asks his brother with a sigh, knowing that he will not get this moment back.

“It is time to rise, brother. The banquet is starting soon, and then afterwards the tourney will be held. Our people must see their future King and Queen. You two can work on adding to your family later,” Aemond replies with a straight face.

Aegon just groans and sinks back into the bed, willing his brother to go away. [Name] giggles, pressing a kiss to his lips and tugging on his hair.

“He is right, husband. I would hate to miss the banquet or the tourney. Everyone will be celebrating you today, so we should thank them,” she decides.

Aegon sits up with a sigh, unable to deny his lady wife anything.

From somewhere near the bed, [Name] has apparently managed to find his shirt from the evening before, slipping it over her head to protect her modesty. It’s big on her, covering her up down to her thighs, and Aegon lets out another groan at how much she looks like his.

“Gods, wife, you really know how to tease your husband,” he tells her, reaching out to pull her into his arms.

[Name] dances out of reach with a laugh, evading his arms and sending him a flying kiss.

“Save your honeyed words for later, husband. It is time for me to get dressed - I shall see you later!” she calls out as she heads out of his chambers and taking his sunshine with him.

#nsfk #smut #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen smut #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd drabbles #aegon drabbles #aegon ii fanfic

[fandomnerd9602]

Time Off

Julia Carpenter x reader

Being part of the Spider Society is rarely easy. You work as the technical support for your girlfriend Julia Carpenter. You come up with her gadgets and even help her from the comfort of your laptop.

It may not have been much. But Julia appreciated all the help you gave. It always put a smile on her face to know that she wasn’t alone in the war on crime. She could always count on your arms to hold her after a long night on patrol. Your words of encouragement and the occasional techno jargon put her to sleep.

Today was one particularly harsh battle. One bruise, one too many cuts and hits. She was worn out. Julia needed you more than anything.

She barely made it back to your shared apartment/ hideout which you dubbed the Web. She weakly pushed open the window and crawled in.

She gave you a weak smile, “hey”

“C’mere” you gently whispered before walking up to her and hugging her tightly. You picked her up bridal style and carried her up the steps of your apartment and into the bathroom.

You diligently went about your task. You removed her outfit with the delicateness of a spider. You bandaged her wounds, whispering sweet words in her ears and topped off each bruise with a kiss.

“How do you put up with me?” She asked. “I always come home looking like this!”

“Because you’re the only one I want to come home to” you answer back. You put her favorite shirt of yours on her and carried her out of your bathroom and laid her down gently on your bed.

Julia groaned and moaned. It felt good to be in her own bed, but it felt bad that you had to set her down.

“Stay” she practically commands you in her gentle yet sultry voice.

“Just give me a sec,” you answer back before giving her a kiss and heading out. A quick shut down of all your equipment and you were right back to your room and into her arms.

Julia Carpenter, the Spider Woman, she’s always busy saving the world but luckily she’s got you to save her.

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #spider woman #julia carpenter #sydney sweeney #madame web #Julia carpenter x reader #spider woman x reader #madame web movie #across the spiderverse #beyond the spiderverse #spider society #Sydney Sweeney x reader

[timetravelingpenguin1066]

Aemond x reader

You can't sleep. Luckily, Aemond is here to help. As well as someone else.

@aemonds-war-crime I hope you feel better soon.

This had been happening for some weeks, when something refused to let you escape to your dreams. You were exhausted.

And so, once again, you say awake in bed, unable to close your eyes. You felt sure your shuffling had disturbed your husband, who lay in peace beside you.

You could not help but feel jealous of him, so easily able to sleep. He seemed so peaceful. He lay on his stomach, his head turned to the side and resting on his muscled arms. A small smile was visible on his handsome face. He seemed to young when he slept.

You slipped out of bed, hoping that perhaps some water would help you to sleep. You crept silently to the low table where a jug of water and two glasses waited. You poured one and stepped out to the balcony.

The moon was full and shining. As you looked down, you wondered if the people below suffered as you did. After all, their noise and merry-making often continued long into the small hours of the morning.

You were so lost in your thoughts, you did not hear your husband come and wrap his arms around you waist, softly kissing you bared shoulder.

"I woke up," he whispered, "and you were gone."

You sighed, turning to face him. His sapphire eye sparkled with a thousand tiny fractures.

"What troubles you, ñuha jorrāelagon?" he said, leaning his forehead against yours.

You turned back to face the sprawling city. "I cannot sleep," you said. "I do not know why."

He did not respond, only kissed your shoulder, again and again, slowly creeping up to your neck. He inhaled deeply.

"Are you worried about something?"

You close your eyes and lean back into his warm embrace. Your husband always burns hot against you. The blood of the dragon runs hot.

"I do not know why. I only know that I cannot sleep." Tears start to leak down your face, and you turn to your husband. "I am so tired, Aemond. I just want to sleep, but I can't."

You are sobbing in earnest now. He takes you in his arms and holds you, whispering words of comfort in your ear. "It's alright, ñuha jorrāelagon. I am here. Ivestragī nyke dohaeragon ao."

You let him lead you back to your shared bed. He lays you down on the silk sheets, before climbing on top of you.

"Avy jorrāelan," he whispers, leaning down you kiss you.

He breaks the kiss, all to soon and lies beside you.

"How do you intend to help me sleep," you ask him.

"I will not sleep until you do."

You can't help but giggle.

"Is that such a foolish arrangement?" he asks, indignant.

"You fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow," you giggle.

"Nonsense," he insists.

You are interrupted in your reverie but the sound of the door opening.

"Kepa?" whispers a voice in the dark. "Muña?"

Aemond climbs out of the bed again. You turn to watch him scoop up you little 5-year-old and bring her to your bed. She giggles, trying to use her hands to muffle the noise.

He lays her down between the two of you.

"Now, then," he says, "what brings you here, byka mēre?"

"I cannot sleep," she whispers.

"Why are you whispering?"

"So I do not wake muña."

You slip an arm around your daughter. "Muña is already awake, little one. It seems you and I share an affliction. I cannot sleep either."

Your little girl bounced around on the bed, shuffling on her bottom. "I came here because I hoped Kepa could help me to sleep."

Aemond hummed, sleep already crawling back onto his handsome features. "Well, then. you had better lie down."

He lay on the pillows, and you scooted your daughter over until she was lying on her father muscled chest. You rested your head on his firm shoulder, and his arm went around you.

He started to hum. And while he hummed, his hands weaved their way through your hair.

To your surprise, you eyes began to close at last, and you finally felt the wonderful warm blanket of sleep cover you.

#all the floofy goodness #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fic #aemond targaryen #dad aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #aemond fluff