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#sight letter of credit
amiablesummer · 9 months
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I look at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world
Rachel Mennies, The Naomi Letters // Daylight by Taylor Swift // @craigslits // Doctor Who s9x01, gifs by @userlizziesaltzman // The Affliction by Marie Howe // Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life (via @hjarta) // @ruhlare // Having a Coke With You by Frank O'Hara
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verstarppen · 7 days
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now riddle me this .
since all the drivers talk about how hard the singapore gp is because its so hot and humid HOW ABOUT
singaporean fem driver reader whos used to the climate and her shenanigans with the f1 grid
idk i thought this would be a good idea 😢😢
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summary; the singapore heat can't kill you, but the sight of him sweaty and disheveled just might
pairing; oscar piastri x fem! ferrari driver! reader [ no faceclaim ]
a/n; this is my thank you letter to @localwhoore for helping me with the oscar series, i owe you big time; also if anyone has any idea what to do when i hit 3k send me an ask
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liked by scuderiayn, charles_leclerc, f1 and 3,204,985 others
scuderiaferrari The heat never bothered her anyway
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36rg P1 BABY IT'S OUR YEAR
gonestappen not for longggggg
gothfrogasly oh they're so hot for that (get it?)
buttonette_20 It's Oscar and Lando congratulating her mid interview for me
meepshoemaker WHERE buttonette_20 Post quali interviews!! They were walking by, Lando stopped to congratulate her and Oscar had the audacity to wink but it looked so awkward 😭 meepshoemaker bless his soul that boy has 0 rizz
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liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiayn, landonorris and 2,111,901 others
mclaren We, at McLaren, do not take a side in the conflict, and if we had to, it would be Oscar's. That said, here are some of the ways he looks at Y/N. Happy Race Day! 🧡
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sebwebb admin you're so brave for this
maxielhearter take a shot if mclaren admin knowing about oscassgate was on your bingo card
g3org3zilla NAHHHHHH THEY DIDN'T
mclaren Oh, yes, we did 😊 oscarpiastri 🤨
scuderiayn girl
mclaren Just doing my job 😊 scuderiayn how much did mick and max f. pay you to post this mclaren I plead the 5th maxfewtrell DUDE
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liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 7,800,552 others
scuderiayn i won or whatever LANDO P2 BABYYYY
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forzapluto FERARRI WIN??? WHAT YEAR IS IT????
bottaswiththefur breaking the verstappen domination and being more excited about your buddy getting a podium is insane but not as insane as oscassgate
scuderiayn I JUST GOT A WIN AND WE'RE STILL TALKING ABOUT OSCAR'S ASS?? oscarpiastri You're no longer interested, then? scuderiayn oh charles_leclerc At last mickschumacher I teared up, they grow up so fast landonorris and if i said i caught him looking at your ass too what then scuderiayn you didn't landonorris no i didn't but like imagine if i did what then
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liked by maxfewtrell, scuderiayn, fernandoalo_oficial and 3,121,347 others
oscarpiastri Thank you @ charles_leclerc for revealing your DMs. Without you, it would have taken longer for this to happen.
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scuderiayn *being dumb enough to reveal his DMs
charles_leclerc First of all I just scored you a date. scuderiaferrari You should be scoring points instead scuderiayn ha scuderiaferrari You included scuderiayn oh im sorry, you're talking to THE max destroyer charles_leclerc Bow to her highness landonorris someone's about to be known as THE y/n destroyer scuderiayn ok mr nowins scuderiayn wait scuderiayn LANDO
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pic credits: instagram and pinterest
fic-specific taglist; @onecojg @spilled-coffee-cup @cixrosie @sheridamn @namgification @thehufflepuffavenger1 @sxrcxsm26
blog taglist; @wtfisakilometer2 @aexitizen-ln4 @localwhoore @onecojg @sheridamn @cixrosie @gulabjamooon @melozyxo @spilled-coffee-cup @biitch-with-wifi @coffeehurricanes @iifloweringnightsii @jsjcue @lanando4 @fastcarsandshit @christianpulisic10 @allygatcr @marshmummy @lavenderhazeeworld @ravisinghs-wife @namgification @sheridamn @whatislifebutlemons @demvnsriot @stinkyjax @sxrcxsm26 @beskardroids @tbsloneely
(it's my birthday on sunday im about to get the best dutch anthem of the year)
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lettersofcredit · 2 years
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If you need an LC at Sight to import goods from an overseas supplier, please contact us today. We can facilitate LC at Sight from our own European Bank Accounts. To get a Letter of Credit within 48 hours, please submit your requirements now: https://importletterofcredit.com/letter-of-credit/
To discuss your requirements with us,
Call Us: +971-4-5519699
Phone/WhatsApp/BOTIM: +971-50-4648761
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bronzewingtrading · 2 years
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If you are looking for a Letter of Credit for an import deal, submit your Letter of Credit requirements to us. We can provide LC MT700 on behalf of your company within 48hours. For more info, visit: https://www.bwtradefinance.com/letter-of-credit-lc/
To discuss your LC at Sight requirement with us,
Call Us: +971-4-5519699
Phone/WhatsApp/BOTIM: +971-50-4648761
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spaceycowboys · 1 year
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starry eyes sparking up my darkest night
pairing: aemond targaryen x female!tyrell!reader
summary: aemond has only wanted two things in his life. a dragon and to marry the pretty tyrell girl, now he has both. 
warnings: smut, literally almost all smut very little plot, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), creampie, breeding kink, light innocence kink, light size kink, use of pet names, blood is mentioned two (2) times, aemond has a huge cock i don’t make the rules, and breeder balls, eye patch gets taken OFF when aemond fucks his lady wife, implied jealousy, implied voyeurism (? just incase?), out of character aemond (?), i think thats all?
notes: i am a whore for a villain. aemond is so hot i love him. this is a side blog, i just didnt want to post on my main blog, im fairly rusty at writing smut, so any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated!! please interact if you see this because i think tumblr hates me:((!! title credits: call it what you want by taylor swift
word count: 5.3k
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The wedding had been lovely, truly, but you think everyone could tell your heart wasn’t really in it. Few smiles reached your eyes, and you couldn’t lie that a part of you had felt slightly devasted you were being married in the Dragon Pit in the sight of the Seven, and not the Godswood in Winterfell that you’d come to love during your time in Cregan Stark’s presence many years ago.
You’d thought it was a grand wedding, perhaps too grand for the marriage of a second son, but Aemond is a Prince, so what did you know, besides that and the feeling that the Hand and Queen were trying to sway your father’s loyalty to them when King Viserys joins his late wife, perhaps even go as far as to hope for the favor of your lady mother’s family.
An extravagant weeklong event. Tourneys and hunts and beautiful dinners with lots of dancing. Many lords and ladies had come, many of your friends from childhood present and even your eldest brother. It made the evening feel less lonely for you to be in the presence of people you know so well.
You had been surprised, however, to see the Princess Rhaenyra present with her husband (uncle?) and their children. You heard often of the animosity between the two families, and you were sure she wouldn’t have come. You’d been even more surprised when she had approached you at, a smile on her pretty face.
“Lady Tyrell, you make a most beautiful bride,” She smiles fondly at you.
Aemond tensed next to you, so did the Queen when her next words left her mouth before you could even let out a proper thank you for her compliment, “Though, I must say I am disappointed that your father had not chosen my own son to be your husband. We were heavily in discussion regarding it.”
Your eyebrows furrow as your head turned over in the direction of your father who was seated to your left, “I must say, Princess, I did not know I had many suitors.”
“Why would she want to marry your Strong son, dear sister, when she had better offers?” Aemond spit the words out hatefully at the same time you try to answer her, glaring over her shoulder at the son in question. Jacaerys.
You’d met him on a few occasions, and he was a kind boy. A little closer to your age than your now husband. You didn’t think you knew him well enough to warrant any sort of affections from him, but you suppose that doesn’t matter, since you’d only met Aemond once as children before your father received the letter of the marriage offer from the Hand of the King.
“Aemond,” Alicent had hissed through gritted teeth, “this is a joyous occasion, one you had wanted so desperately. So, please, do not.”
Your now husband huffed out a bitter laugh before grabbing his cup and drowning the rest of his drink. You furrow your eyebrows at her words and look to Aemond slightly confused. He wanted to desperately marry you?
Rhaenyra ignored his comment and stayed looking at you, eyebrows having a slight furrow at your words, “You are a beautiful young woman and you come from one of the great houses, I can promise you that your father was drowning in marriage offers. But I do hope you will be happy here, with my dear brother.”
She walks away before you could say anything, tensing to stop a flinch when Aemond slammed his cup down harshly.
“That fucking cunt. How dare she come over here and say all those things. As if we did not just get married. As if your husband is not sitting right fucking next to you.” He was seething, and it honestly shocked you. You have barely even spoken to him; you really didn’t think he even liked you much.
“Aemond, you will watch your mouth in front of your wife,” Alicent spoke out, slightly baffled that he would say such things in front of you, in front of your family.
Your father is tense next to you, and you place your hand on his own and squeeze. This can’t be that bad. You can endure it.
As you look at Aemond, you can’t help but wonder if he will even be so bad. As if he can hear your thoughts, his hand moves to rest tenderly on your own.
The rest of the evening blurs together until Aegon stumbled his way over to where you were seated, “I believe we should be approaching the bedding ceremony soon, dear brother?”
And though his words had been directed at your husband, you felt his lust and drunk eyes on you. The mention of the bedding ceremony had you tense, and Aegon’s eyes don’t do anything to soothe your nerves.
“There will be no bedding ceremony.” Aemond spoke without a waver in his voice. What?
Aegon’s head snapped towards his brother, “And why the fuck not? It’s tradition.”
Aemond hummed, unamused, “I will not make a spectacle of my lady wife.” His words make your heart soften slightly
“She will not be your lady wife for long if there is no proof.” Aegon tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.
“There will be blood on my sheets come morning and a babe in her belly,” Aemond spoke as he stood up, towering over his older brother before he moved his face close enough to where no one, except you- much to your embarrassment, “though I do suppose if you are that concerned, you may stand outside my quarters and listen for the confirmation that my marriage has been consummated.”
Aemond takes your hand and pulls you from the room after that, moving quickly as if attempting not to be noticed.
“Why are we not doing the bedding ceremony? Is it not tradition? Will we not get in trouble?” Your voice is slightly panicked at the idea of getting in trouble for not doing what you are supposed to do, causing him to stop outside the door of his chambers and look at you.
“I would not feel like a very good husband if there were a bunch of old men with greedy eyes seeing your bare body before I got to see it,” He looks serious, and he sounds it as well. Though his voice lowers slightly into a possessive tone when the next words come out, “I also would not like anyone to see it after I do.”
                                                        εїз
Large hands take the many pins out of your hair before gently starting to unknot and remove the many intricate braids the servant girls spent hours doing not long ago. It feels like a waste, makes you feel as if you are a spectacle for viewing and gawking at only.
Which you suppose you are- if you were being honest with yourself. You’d been lucky to inherit not only your mother’s beauty, but as well as the charm that all the women from your lord fathers house seem to have.
You wonder why he insisted that the handmaiden leave, from what your mother told you it was typical of them to prepare you for the upcoming moments.
Your hair is abandoned for the strings at the back of your dress once Aemond has removed all the braids. The air is cold on your back and your hands are shaking when his own move to touch your bare skin in a way that no one else has. One hand is on the nape rubbing in an almost affectionate way as the other moves to pull the extravagant gown from your body.
You didn’t think you could get anymore tense than you already were, until your wedding dress dropped from your body unceremoniously onto the cold ground.
Goosebumps cover your body as you’re fully exposed to the cold air, despite the fire going in the fireplace. His hands move to map your body, starting at your shoulders and slowly moving down to your hips.
His lips on your neck causes you to gasp in surprise, your belly warming at the feeling of not only his lips on you but his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the skin and biting back a grown when the reach your ass.
His mouth moves from your neck to your shoulders, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on your skin as he makes his way down your back. You close your eyes at the unfamiliar feeling stirring inside you, a surprised gasp escaping you when a dull bite lands on your hip.
You feel his smile against your skin as he does the same to your other hip before he stands up to make his way around your body.
He stands in front of you, fully clothed still despite having taken off all of your clothing, leaving you bare for him to feast upon with his eye.
Aemond’s hands are calloused and rough, you assume from years of sword training and dragon riding, as they caress your face. His bright eye locked on yours, watching for any reactions. Thumbs trace under your eyes, over your nose, and your lips.
“Have you ever been touched this way?” His voice is quiet as his hands move down your neck towards your collarbones.
“No, my Prince,” Your voice pitches up at the end when his mouth finds your neck again, his teeth piercing your skin again.
“Not even your own hands?” His tone is serious but the smirk you feel against your skin lets you know he’s teasing.
You feel your face heat up at his implication. “No. Never.”
Aemond lets out a pleased hum at your words, soft voice stirring something primal in him.
His mouth is on yours before you can think of something else to say. His lips are a little dry, something you didn’t notice when he kissed you earlier at the wedding. One hand grips your hip as the other tangles into your hair, tugging lightly causing you to gasp. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
It’s an unfamiliar feeling, all of it is, though. You’re overwhelmed and throbbing at your core.
Can he hear your heartbeat as well as you can? It’s pounding in your ears along with a rush of heat that takes over your whole body.
His tongue coaxes yours to move against it, and you wonder if this is how it’s supposed to feel. If you’re supposed to feel this good. Are you even allowed to feel this good? Your handmaiden had told you on many occasions      that men only cared for their own pleasure, and you would be feeling a lot of pain. This didn’t feel like anything she described.
Aemond pulls his mouth from yours and looks at you with a hooded eye, pupil so blown you can’t see the blue of it. There’s a light flush on his cheeks as he looks at your swollen lips.
“You are quite beautiful, my lady.” It’s said so quietly, you wonder if it was supposed to be a secret. You’d like to know all his secrets, you think.
When you don’t respond, his mouth attaches itself to your neck. A sharp pain if him biting is followed by a light sucking as if to soothe it.
You aren’t sure where to put your hands, they’ve stayed at your side due to your shyness and uncertainty.
“Have you been with many women?” The question leaves your mouth before your mind even processes that you’ve asked it.
His mouth stops moving against your skin as your blood runs cold, shaking, and wide eyed when he pulls away to look at you.
Sharpe eye studies your features, like a lion about to eat a lamb. Or, perhaps, a dragon ready to burn a rose.
He steps back, taking your hand as he sighs and looks away from you in, shame?
“When I was thirteen, Aegon took me to a brothel. Told me it was time to get it wet,”
You grimace at his word choice, but when you see how he’s looking at you, you squeeze his hand.
“To put it lightly, my dear lady, it was not a very nice experience. I have been with very few women since,”
Shame fills you at his words, and before he can continue you speak quickly, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to push you into speaking about an event you-“
His hands are back on your face, holding your cheeks, “You are my wife.” It’s a statement, and his words come out slightly harsh, “You are entitled to every piece of me. I will tell you everything you wish to know about me,”
His kiss is full of fire this time, claiming your lips with such an intensity. His body is pressed full against yours; you can feel his toned chest through his shirt. The fabric is soft against your chest, and as if they have a mind of their own, your hands start grasping at them hem of it desperately.
“Aemond,” It’s the first time you’ve spoken his name that way, he likes the way it sounds. Desperate, needy. Maybe he just likes that it comes from you.
Aemond was nine the first time he saw you, still had both eyes back then. You’d been visiting the Keep with your father. The King wanted updates about something, Aemond didn’t know or care what it was. All he knew was that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.
You had such grace and were so kind. Helaena didn’t have many friends at court due to her fascination with insects. But you held all the creepy crawlers she held out to you, spent the day reading to her so she didn’t have to pull herself away from the bugs.
You were younger than him, but he didn’t care. He liked the way your voice sounded as you read to Helaena, how you laughed when she would whisper out name ideas for her bugs and then look to you to see if the name suited the bug, how you smiled at him when you would catch him sitting just far enough to not be seen but to hear.
You left with your father, and then a year later he heard a servant that you’d been taken to Winterfell to see how you’d pair with Cregan Stark.
After he lost his eye, he told his mother it was a fair trade, and that he’d gotten Vhagar in return, so it didn’t matter. But after he heard Rhaenyra speak of you to Daemon, of her hopes to marry you to Jace, he back tracked.
When they returned to King’s Landing from Driftmark, he told his mother he felt like he deserved to choose his future bride- and that he would want you in return for his lost eye. Truly the rest was history; she brought the request to Viserys stating that it was the least he could be given after what was taken from him.
Viserys allowed it but stated that it would have to be on your father’s terms on when and how if he agreed. It was no surprise that he did agree, though. Lord Tyrell is a proud man and agreed after a few years of discussion and persuasion.
“My lady,” Your thighs involuntarily press together at the way he says it, like he owns you; and he does.
He smirks at the way your body reacts to him just speaking, “May I touch you?”
You moan and breathe out a whine, “If you’d like,”
He pulls away from you just enough to remove the shirt from his body, and then he grabs your hands and places them on his chest.
“I’d like it if you would touch me as well,” His request comes out confident, almost like a demand. Almost everything he says causes more and more heat to flood your body and your lower stomach.
Your shy hands trace over the whole expanse of his chest, rubbing, squeezing, light scratching. Your eyes stay on his face, drinking in every reaction. The way he opens his mouth and lets out a breathy gasp, how his eye closes, and head goes back when you scratch lightly over his pectoral muscles.
With a sudden surge of confidence, you slowly move closer and place a light kiss on his neck. A quiet groan leaves his mouth in response, and you take it as encouragement to continue. A hand moves to your head, lightly holding the back of your neck in place as you suck and bite as he did to you.
You don’t register that he’s been moving you backwards until your knees hit the bed, causing you to gasp and pull away.
Both his hands are back on your face as he slowly lowers you so you’re lying flat, you go to question him when he doesn’t join you, but to your confusion he moves to his knees between your legs.
“What are you-“ The question dies on your tongue when you feel his hands move up your thighs and close to your core.
This is definitely not normal. You’ve never heard of this being part of any bedding. In a panic your hands rush to his face as it gets closer to your core, “What are you doing?”
His eye finds yours and studies your face before smirking, “Just lay back and let me make you feel good, wife.”
Before you can respond you feel his tongue on you, no- in you.
“Oh, gods.”
It’s really unlike anything you’ve ever felt, it’s nearly overwhelming. All you can feel is him. His hands on your inner thighs holding you open for him, his fingers gripping so hard they’re surely leaving bruises, his tongue, gods his tongue.
A finger lightly traces at your entrance, teasingly. The finger makes its way inside you as he sucks on your clit.
“Aemond,” He pulls away at his name leaving your mouth, eye finding you with your head back and hands clutching the bedding at your sides so tightly your knuckles are turning white.
His free hand reaches for one of your own, intertwining your fingers, eye not leaving your face as he adds another inside you, scissoring the two of them lightly while his thumb rubs circles on your clit.
“Do you feel good?” His tone is slightly cocky, but when your eyes look at his face, you see he looks slightly shy.
Before you can respond, his fingers curl inside you and you’re eyes are squeezing shut as a sharp whine leaves your mouth. He hums thoughtfully at your reaction before doing the same thing again, again, again until.
“Oh, please, please, please,” Your nails are digging into his skin, so hard it may be drawing blood, and your thighs begin shaking by his head when his mouth finds your clit again. His fingers don’t falter inside you until your voice pitches up due to the overstimulation.
You finally open your eyes and watch as he sticks the two fingers that had just been inside you into his mouth before looking at you with a smirk as he leans his head back down to lick from the bottom of your cunt back up to your clit.
Wheezing, your thighs move to close themselves as both your hands reach for his head to push him away from you.
Aemond lets out a laugh as he pulls away from your cunt and crawls up your body. Big arms cage you in as he looks at you with something akin to adoration.
“You taste so good,” He says it in such an attractive manner, you’ve never though any words like that would sound so good coming from someone’s mouth. “Would you like to try it?”
You flush at his words, embarrassment filling you before you nod shyly. His smirk deepens as he presses his mouth to yours.
You moan at the feeling of his mouth back on your own, gasping when his hands places itself on your breasts and tweaks with your nipples, and Aemond takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth when you do.
The taste is slightly sweet, slightly bitter. Tangy, would be a better word, maybe like a Dornish wine or an orange. His cock is straining in his pants as he presses himself up against your cunt, the size takes you by surprise. It feels large, much bigger than his fingers and much too big to fit inside you, but between the feeling of his hands on your breasts, the heat coming off of his bare chest where your hands dig into his shoulders, and the taste of yourself on his mouth as his tongue maps out the inside of your mouth.
A surge of boldness fills you and you remove a hand from one of his shoulders and reach between the two of you, grabbing lightly and unsurely at his cock. The action causes him to pull away from you as a surprised moan leaves his mouth.
There’s a fire in his eye as he looks at you, watching you as you look up with him with uncertain yet shining eyes at everything you’re feeling for the very first time. At his hands no less.
A smirk crawls it’s way back on it’s face, “Do you want to make me feel good, little wife?”
“Yes,” Your answer causes him to let out a pleased hum, but to your confusion he pulls your hand away from his cock.
“Next time I’ll teach you how to please me the way I did you. I don’t want to overwhelm you this time,” His eye holds tenderness as he says the sweet words that light your body on fire.
“This is not how I expected tonight to go,” Your shy words cause a sympathetic smile to show on his features.
“Many husbands don’t care for their wife’s pleasure,” His hands are untying the laces on his pants as he moves up from the bed to strip himself of them. Pride fills him when your eyes widen at the site of his cock.
It’s long and thick, it sits hard and proud up against his stomach, almost hitting his naval. It’s as pale as the rest of him, slightly red at the tip. A bead of precum drips from the tip and down his shaft, your eyes follow it to his balls. There also big, no surprise. The hair so pale that if there is any, you can’t see it. They look heavy, almost uncomfortable.
“Does it hurt?” The question spills out of your mouth, and Aemond wants to laugh until he sees how serious you are.
“No, it’s just uncomfortable,” You’re wide eyes find his face again, another question that almost makes him laugh.
“Will it fit inside me?” You really don’t think it will, or if it does, it’ll be in your stomach. The though makes you nervous.
“We’ll go slow, if you’d like,” He crawls back on top of you, hands finding your thighs so he can fit his body in between them.
His cock is hot against the skin of your thigh, the tip lightly brushes your folds causing you to shiver. His hand grabs at the base of his cock, guiding the tip from your clit to your hole, then back up. Little gasps leave you every time it bumps against your clit or catches on your tight hole.
Aemond holds a lot of restraint, but he can only hold so much, “I’m going to put it in now,”
He looks to you for you to consent, but tenses when your hands shyly reach up at the leather straps of the patch covering his eye.
“Can you take this off?” Your eyes hold no fear, just slight uncertainty.
His face doesn’t change at all, “I’d rather not scare you-“
“I am bare before you, as your wife. You could be bare for me as my husband, as well.” You’re voice doesn’t shake at all, for the first time all evening, he notes.
With a sigh, he takes his hand from your thigh and closes his eye as he takes the patch off. He doesn’t want to see your inevitable reaction of fear or disgust before you turn over and have him take you from behind.
Aemond flinches when he feels your hand tracing his scar, from his forehead, over the sapphire in place of where his eye should be, down to where it ends.
He hears you take in a shaky breath before your mouth is diving up towards his, and for the first time all evening you’ve taken control of something. He enjoys it, the way your tongue forces its way into his mouth.
He kisses you back with the same amount of energy, sucking on your tongue and nipping at your lips until you pull away. His eye studies you, the lust filled look in your eyes and flush covering you with swollen, wet lips.
“You may take me now, Aemond,” The words are but a whisper, but he hears you clearly.
His cock is, now, painfully hard as he nods and tightens his grip so he can carefully guide himself inside you.
He hisses though his teeth at the feeling of your cunt, slick and warm and tight, enveloping his cock. You’re the tightest thing he’s ever felt.
An animalistic feeling nearly overcomes him. He feels a primal need to shove his cock all the way inside you, rip through your maidenhead and fuck you full of him. He want to see your blood on his cock as he thrust inside you, fill you full of him, fuck you so hard there’s no questioning if his seed took tonight.
The feeling is slightly different for you. The stretch is uncomfortable, and it stings slightly, it causes you to feel so full you may burst or overfill. He goes slow, like he promised, but you can feel his body shaking above you as he restrains himself from taking you like an animal.
When he reaches the barrier of your maidenhead, he halts, “I have to push a little harder, here,”
A flash of fear flashes through your eyes for a brief moment before you nod for him to continue.
With a shaky exhale, he pulls back slightly and then pushes forward sharply, a little too sharply. Because the next thing he knows you’ve got tears streaming down your face and his pelvis is flush with yours. It’s hot and so, so tight. It, you, feel so fucking good.
His mouth is hanging open slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to gain control over himself. When he looks down at you, he feels guilt coarse through him.
“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry,” You take not that while his voice doesn’t sound sorry, his eye shows that he is. Hands reach for your cheeks so he can wipe the tears that have been falling from your eyes away.
You remove an arm from around his shoulder and move your hand to grip at a wrist that is by your face, “It’s okay-“
His voice is strained, “Oh, fuck, it’s not. I told you we would go slow,”
His eye holds guilt, but you can’t help but notice how beautiful he looks above you. No eye patch covering his features, his hair, though still pulled back, slightly messy, sharp facial features gleaming in the moonlight and the light from the fire.
He thinks you look unreal. Hair, still slightly curled, sits around you beautifully, eyes are gleaming with stars in the despite the tears from the pain still lingering, lips bruised and swollen from his own mouth.
“You can move now,” He looks unsure at your words and goes to speak his protests, but you interrupt. “Take me, husband.”
He obliges to your demand, pulling his hips back before pushing them forward. He goes slow at first, in and out at a steady rhythm, relishing in the moans and gasps and whines that leave your mouth, the chants of his name Aemond, Aemond, Aemond.
He dips his head to kiss your cheeks, down your jaw and latches onto your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as he starts thrusting deeper, harder. His pelvis grinds against your clit, and between that sensation, the pace of his thrusts when his cock hits the same spot his fingers found earlier and up to your cervix, his mouth on your neck, it doesn’t take long for your cunt to start clenching on his cock harder.
A deep groan leaves him at the way your cunt grips his cock, sucking him in and trying to keep him there forever. He would gladly stay inside you forever.
He pulls away from your neck to look at you, wanting to look at your face as you cum around his cock, as you feel his cum inside you.
Your eyes are rolled back so far he can only see the whites of them, bruises litter your collarbones and neck, marks of him all over you. Your nipples are hard and brush against his chest as your back arches while you lose yourself in the pleasure.
His balls tighten up more the longer he looks at you, and he moves his thumb to your clit, pushing you over the edge after one, two, three circles over it.
“Aemond!” Your voice sounds heavenly when you moan his name. His hips don’t falter their pace nor does his thumb stop rubbing until your cunt has loosened its vice grip on his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm and through the aftershocks before he grabs one of your legs.
You’re still shaking from your orgasm when you feel him lift your leg up and over his arm and onto his shoulder before he’s leaning over you. Your eyes shoot open at the newer, deeper angle.
“I don’t think-“
Before the sentence can leave your mouth, his hips pick up a pace very unlike the one you had just grown accustomed to. Your eyes cross as your hands shot up to his shoulders, trying to push him away and stop the overstimulation.
His head is thrown back in deep pleasure, groans and low moans of your name leaving his mouth as he listens to the wet slap, slap, slap of his body meeting yours. His pace picks up and becomes less rhythmic as his orgasm hits him.
You cry out his name with tears running down your face as your cunt clenches down for a third time, squeezing him so tightly that all he can do is push all the way in and let his cum flood you. His hips lightly move back and forth, fucking himself and you through your orgasms as you feel his cum fill you so much it starts slipping out around his cock and down your ass.              
He stays inside you as your shake in the aftermath, feeling sweaty and sticky as he presses his cheek against your own, breathing you in and just feeling you for a while before he finally pull back just enough to look at you. Bodies still pressed together, cunt still plugged with his cock to hold his cum in, to make sure it takes. To make sure his son is filling you.
His eye is holding yours in a stare, and a soft smile takes over his face as you smile up at him tiredly. He feels something warm ignite in his chest as you look at him, the glow of the orgasm, the smile on your face, a sparkle in your eyes that looks like stars.
Aemond presses his mouth to yours before you can say anything. He wonders to himself if he can light your world up the way you’re already doing his.
7K notes · View notes
arcielee · 5 days
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Fare Well
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Photo credit.
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Summary: You visit Aegon after another council meeting ends. Paring: Aegon Targaryen x female!reader Word Count: 1600+ Warnings: Reader AFAB, knifeplay, object penetration, kissing, p in v, creampie, using intercourse as an escape from reality. Author’s Note: Listen, the new trailer came out and our muses are buzzing again. This smutty piece was inspired by this story by @valeskafics as well as this beautiful edit by the beautiful @bucknastysbabe. The title is from Hozier, as you all should come to expect now, and this can also be read on ao3. This is dedicated to @f4ll-for-you, my wonderful Tumblr kindred spirit who made me into the Aegon girly I am today. 💜 A huge thank you to @targaryen-dynasty for beta reading and making sure this all made sense. 💜 Enjoy!
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“What troubles you, your grace?”
You had remained in the shadows and listened to the voices grow louder, though still muted through the walls, with their worries of what was to come next. They exited one by one, the morose men chosen to serve the king’s council, with the lord commander of the kingsguard escorting the queen dowager donned in green, her eyes downcast and her expression etched with her perpetual worry since her lord husband had passed. The lord hand was the last to leave, his face lined and wearied, his slow gate returning him to the tower where he would–as Aegon confided to you–continue to pen letters to garner support across the realm. 
It was only then that you dared to enter the room. You saw Aegon was seated at the head of the table, his violet gaze placed on the Valyrian dagger in his hands, the iron and rubies that once belonged to the Conqueror gleaming above him. 
The sun was streaking through the windows behind, giving him a kingly glow. His hair was a shade lighter and his cheeks sunkissed from the hours aback Sunfyre; despite the threat beyond the horizon, you knew that Aegon enjoyed patrolling the skies with his brothers.
It was these little confessions that he shared with you in the clandestine moments stolen within the walls of the Red Keep. He told you how he wished to be distracted, to allow a reprieve for his mind that weighed heavy with this anointed crown, and you were just this distraction, flesh and blood pulsing with your desire. 
It was then he looked up to see you still shyly posted in the doorway. “You seemed troubled, your grace,” you repeated with kindness, with concern. 
“I am now always troubled, it feels,” his smile was forced. “It seems to be something that comes with the weight of this.” He removed the crown and it echoed dully as he dropped it on the table. “But perhaps you can serve your king.” 
Your foot pushed the door until it closed soundly, and you took a step towards him. For a moment you saw the boy you had grown up with, mischievous and smirking, peering up at you from beneath the title of king. “This is why I am here,” your reply was sultry, and you saw how the black began to swallow the color of his eyes. “To serve, your grace.” 
Aegon sheathed the dagger and set it aside his crown before slouching back to spread his legs wider in the ornate chair he sat. Your stomach tightened at the sight of his thick outline against his thigh, pressing through his slacks, and you felt the flutter of that desire trilling your spine, spilling back into your veins. 
Your heart vibrated beneath and his lips curled upwards when he noticed where your eyes fell. His large hand patted his thigh. 
The gesture summoned you and you moved within his arms reach. He pulled you onto his lap, his face burying into the curve of your neck with a groan, a deep inhale that tickled. “Your grace,” you giggled, squirming in his hold, your blood warming your skin. 
“It is only us now,” he murmured against your skin, “and all I wish now is  to tear away these layers, lay you on this table, and have what lies beneath your finery.” 
“You would not dare,” you whispered, your eyes bright. 
His fingers dug into your hip while his other hand snaked under your thighs to lift you up from his seat. You giggled again, your arm quick to wrap around his neck to brace for his step forward as he set you on the edge of the table. His hands pawed at your layers, searching to find the dagger and he began to slice through your fabric.  
Your surprise spilled from your lips. “Aegon!”
He did not falter, but sheathed it and set it back down so his hands could grab fistfuls, tearing away the fabric to allow you room to part your thighs and welcome him. Your hands moved from his chest and combed through his hair, smoothing the indent left behind from his crown. He hummed from your touch, his hands moving from your hips and following your curves to your backside, pulling you closer so he could tilt his chin forward and capture your lips. 
His kiss devoured you wholly, pulling the air from your lungs with the dizzyingly desperation of his lips against your own. Your arms wrapped again around his neck and you rolled your hips for friction against the warmth he emitted through his royal garb, your fingers clawing at the fabric. 
You could feel his smile against your lips, his fingers returning to his hold on your hips. The outside of his palm rested on the dip and his thumbs pressed to the bone, eliciting a pleasure that jolted through you. You moaned softly and his mouth broke away, wet kisses that now trailed along your jaw, his teeth nipping at the slope of your neck. 
“Aegon,” you could not help but whine, and you tightened your legs around his hips. 
He turned to look at you, his expression unreadable, flushed. For a moment you were lost in his heady gaze, only brought back once you felt his hand trailing the detailing of your bodice and pressing until you laid back on the table. His other hand retrieved the dagger once more and your smallclothes were cut away, the air crisp against the slick between your thighs. 
“So wet for me already,” he clucked his tongue, “and I have barely begun.” 
Your stuttered response only further goaded him. His brow cocked. “What was that?” 
“Please,” you licked your lips. “Touch me, Aegon. Please.”
The darkness in his eyes glittered with the sunlight, and his satisfaction curled across his square jaw. “No. Not quite yet.” 
Before you could protest, you felt the pressure of something that was smooth, almost cool to the touch. You peered down to see the sheathed dagger pressed sideways to your bare cunt, the ruby stone sliding against the slick, the blossom of your arousal allowing him a circular motion of the gemstone against the bundle of nerves.  
You shuddered in response, your skin rising on your thighs and chest, and your head fell back, your hands pressing flat on the polished wood to anchor yourself. The unfamiliar touch began to build a familiar sensation, something that fluttered throughout, catching your exhale in your throat. 
“Aegon,” you cried, his name spilling sickly sweet from your lips, an endearment with the desperation of your tone. 
“Let me,” he soothed, his voice rasped with his intent focus. 
He moved the hilt and its decorative ridges rubbed along your swollen nerves. You squealed with the touch and then the intrusion, feeling his palm press to the inside of your thigh. “Trust me,” he whispered, his eyes boring between your thighs. You relaxed to his touch, feeling the curve of the handle pressing sweetly within you.
It sparked lights before your eyes and Aegon was pleased. He moved his thumb to replace where the gemstone rubbed enticingly before, matching the tandem of the hilt that now pulled you upwards to the prior peak and then past. It filled your chest, a bursting euphoria that pulsed your walls around the handle.
“Sȳz riña,” his voice low with his praise. Good girl.
Your head lifted, drowsy, and you saw him touch the glossy shine that now covered the hilt, his fingers showing the sticky web of your climax. His eyes met with yours as he showed you, and his eyebrows raised when you pushed to sit up, your hand gently covering his own to pull it towards your lips, licking the ruby and tasting yourself.  
It clattered to the cobblestone and his free hand now grabbed the nape of your neck, his lips finding yours with his returned desperation. Fingers collided to loosen his drawstrings, your hands pulling his cock free and guiding his blunt head to press against your silk entrance. 
His large hand wrapped around the base and you cant your hips, angling yourself so his cock can slowly sink into your wet warmth. You mewled from the delicious stretch and he shuddered once he was fully buried between your thighs. Aegon paused, stealing a kiss, a taste of tenderness on his lips as he began to rock against you. 
It started slow with a low groan spilling from his kiss swollen slips as he watched his cock disappear inside you again and again. He savored the lewd sounds, your soft cries as he pushed deeper within you, your fingers grasping to hold yourself upright, to remain as close to him as possible. 
Your body still simmered with your prior release and it did not take much to build again. His hips snapped against yours with the wet sound of skin to skin, and your walls began to flutter. It is a breathless chorus, your soft gasps and his low groan, your pleasure pulling with a creamy spill of passion that tightened around him, his cock pulsing hotly within you. 
You fell back to your elbows, trying to catch your breath, and Aegon slumped over, his damp brow pressing to yours, the mess of his golden waves falling across your face. His scent washed over you, exotic oils that were sent as gifts and the sheen of sweat on his skin. 
The council chambers are noiseless now, and you hold still under the dimming candles lit for the chandelier above. It is another clandestine moment stolen, where your hearts thrummed in unison before slowing back to their regular pace, pulling you back to the heavy reality that settled in the quiet.
It lingered in the shadows, the faraway thought, the threat beyond the horizon, the echoed worries returning of what will come next. 
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462 notes · View notes
spaceyaemonds · 1 year
Text
starry eyes sparking up my darkest night
pairing: aemond targaryen x female!tyrell!reader
summary: aemond has only wanted two things in his life. a dragon and to marry the pretty tyrell girl, now he has both. 
warnings: smut, literally almost all smut very little plot, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), creampie, breeding kink, light innocence kink, light size kink, use of pet names, blood is mentioned two (2) times, aemond has a huge cock i don’t make the rules, and breeder balls, eye patch gets taken OFF when aemond fucks his lady wife, implied jealousy, implied voyeurism (? just incase?), out of character aemond (?), i think thats all?
notes: REPOST FROM MY OLD BLOG. i am a whore for a villain. aemond is so hot i love him. this is a side blog, i just didnt want to post on my main blog, im fairly rusty at writing smut, so any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated!! please interact if you see this because i think tumblr hates me:((!! title credits: call it what you want by taylor swift
word count: 5.3k
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The wedding had been lovely, truly, but you think everyone could tell your heart wasn’t really in it. Few smiles reached your eyes, and you couldn’t lie that a part of you had felt slightly devasted you were being married in the Dragon Pit in the sight of the Seven, and not the Godswood in Winterfell that you’d come to love during your time in Cregan Stark’s presence many years ago.
You’d thought it was a grand wedding, perhaps too grand for the marriage of a second son, but Aemond is a Prince, so what did you know, besides that and the feeling that the Hand and Queen were trying to sway your father’s loyalty to them when King Viserys joins his late wife, perhaps even go as far as to hope for the favor of your lady mother’s family.
An extravagant weeklong event. Tourneys and hunts and beautiful dinners with lots of dancing. Many lords and ladies had come, many of your friends from childhood present and even your eldest brother. It made the evening feel less lonely for you to be in the presence of people you know so well.
You had been surprised, however, to see the Princess Rhaenyra present with her husband (uncle?) and their children. You heard often of the animosity between the two families, and you were sure she wouldn’t have come. You’d been even more surprised when she had approached you at, a smile on her pretty face.
“Lady Tyrell, you make a most beautiful bride,” She smiles fondly at you.
Aemond tensed next to you, so did the Queen when her next words left her mouth before you could even let out a proper thank you for her compliment, “Though, I must say I am disappointed that your father had not chosen my own son to be your husband. We were heavily in discussion regarding it.”
Your eyebrows furrow as your head turned over in the direction of your father who was seated to your left, “I must say, Princess, I did not know I had many suitors.”
“Why would she want to marry your Strong son, dear sister, when she had better offers?” Aemond spit the words out hatefully at the same time you try to answer her, glaring over her shoulder at the son in question. Jacaerys.
You’d met him on a few occasions, and he was a kind boy. A little closer to your age than your now husband. You didn’t think you knew him well enough to warrant any sort of affections from him, but you suppose that doesn’t matter, since you’d only met Aemond once as children before your father received the letter of the marriage offer from the Hand of the King.
“Aemond,” Alicent had hissed through gritted teeth, “this is a joyous occasion, one you had wanted so desperately. So, please, do not.”
Your now husband huffed out a bitter laugh before grabbing his cup and drowning the rest of his drink. You furrow your eyebrows at her words and look to Aemond slightly confused. He wanted to desperately marry you?
Rhaenyra ignored his comment and stayed looking at you, eyebrows having a slight furrow at your words, “You are a beautiful young woman and you come from one of the great houses, I can promise you that your father was drowning in marriage offers. But I do hope you will be happy here, with my dear brother.”
She walks away before you could say anything, tensing to stop a flinch when Aemond slammed his cup down harshly.
“That fucking cunt. How dare she come over here and say all those things. As if we did not just get married. As if your husband is not sitting right fucking next to you.” He was seething, and it honestly shocked you. You have barely even spoken to him; you really didn’t think he even liked you much.
“Aemond, you will watch your mouth in front of your wife,” Alicent spoke out, slightly baffled that he would say such things in front of you, in front of your family.
Your father is tense next to you, and you place your hand on his own and squeeze. This can’t be that bad. You can endure it.
As you look at Aemond, you can’t help but wonder if he will even be so bad. As if he can hear your thoughts, his hand moves to rest tenderly on your own.
The rest of the evening blurs together until Aegon stumbled his way over to where you were seated, “I believe we should be approaching the bedding ceremony soon, dear brother?”
And though his words had been directed at your husband, you felt his lust and drunk eyes on you. The mention of the bedding ceremony had you tense, and Aegon’s eyes don’t do anything to soothe your nerves.
“There will be no bedding ceremony.” Aemond spoke without a waver in his voice. What?
Aegon’s head snapped towards his brother, “And why the fuck not? It’s tradition.”
Aemond hummed, unamused, “I will not make a spectacle of my lady wife.” His words make your heart soften slightly
“She will not be your lady wife for long if there is no proof.” Aegon tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.
“There will be blood on my sheets come morning and a babe in her belly,” Aemond spoke as he stood up, towering over his older brother before he moved his face close enough to where no one, except you- much to your embarrassment, “though I do suppose if you are that concerned, you may stand outside my quarters and listen for the confirmation that my marriage has been consummated.”
Aemond takes your hand and pulls you from the room after that, moving quickly as if attempting not to be noticed.
“Why are we not doing the bedding ceremony? Is it not tradition? Will we not get in trouble?” Your voice is slightly panicked at the idea of getting in trouble for not doing what you are supposed to do, causing him to stop outside the door of his chambers and look at you.
“I would not feel like a very good husband if there were a bunch of old men with greedy eyes seeing your bare body before I got to see it,” He looks serious, and he sounds it as well. Though his voice lowers slightly into a possessive tone when the next words come out, “I also would not like anyone to see it after I do.”
                                                        εїз
Large hands take the many pins out of your hair before gently starting to unknot and remove the many intricate braids the servant girls spent hours doing not long ago. It feels like a waste, makes you feel as if you are a spectacle for viewing and gawking at only.
Which you suppose you are- if you were being honest with yourself. You’d been lucky to inherit not only your mother’s beauty, but as well as the charm that all the women from your lord fathers house seem to have.
You wonder why he insisted that the handmaiden leave, from what your mother told you it was typical of them to prepare you for the upcoming moments.
Your hair is abandoned for the strings at the back of your dress once Aemond has removed all the braids. The air is cold on your back and your hands are shaking when his own move to touch your bare skin in a way that no one else has. One hand is on the nape rubbing in an almost affectionate way as the other moves to pull the extravagant gown from your body.
You didn’t think you could get anymore tense than you already were, until your wedding dress dropped from your body unceremoniously onto the cold ground.
Goosebumps cover your body as you’re fully exposed to the cold air, despite the fire going in the fireplace. His hands move to map your body, starting at your shoulders and slowly moving down to your hips.
His lips on your neck causes you to gasp in surprise, your belly warming at the feeling of not only his lips on you but his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the skin and biting back a grown when the reach your ass.
His mouth moves from your neck to your shoulders, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on your skin as he makes his way down your back. You close your eyes at the unfamiliar feeling stirring inside you, a surprised gasp escaping you when a dull bite lands on your hip.
You feel his smile against your skin as he does the same to your other hip before he stands up to make his way around your body.
He stands in front of you, fully clothed still despite having taken off all of your clothing, leaving you bare for him to feast upon with his eye.
Aemond’s hands are calloused and rough, you assume from years of sword training and dragon riding, as they caress your face. His bright eye locked on yours, watching for any reactions. Thumbs trace under your eyes, over your nose, and your lips.
“Have you ever been touched this way?” His voice is quiet as his hands move down your neck towards your collarbones.
“No, my Prince,” Your voice pitches up at the end when his mouth finds your neck again, his teeth piercing your skin again.
“Not even your own hands?” His tone is serious but the smirk you feel against your skin lets you know he’s teasing.
You feel your face heat up at his implication. “No. Never.”
Aemond lets out a pleased hum at your words, soft voice stirring something primal in him.
His mouth is on yours before you can think of something else to say. His lips are a little dry, something you didn’t notice when he kissed you earlier at the wedding. One hand grips your hip as the other tangles into your hair, tugging lightly causing you to gasp. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
It’s an unfamiliar feeling, all of it is, though. You’re overwhelmed and throbbing at your core.
Can he hear your heartbeat as well as you can? It’s pounding in your ears along with a rush of heat that takes over your whole body.
His tongue coaxes yours to move against it, and you wonder if this is how it’s supposed to feel. If you’re supposed to feel this good. Are you even allowed to feel this good? Your handmaiden had told you on many occasions      that men only cared for their own pleasure, and you would be feeling a lot of pain. This didn’t feel like anything she described.
Aemond pulls his mouth from yours and looks at you with a hooded eye, pupil so blown you can’t see the blue of it. There’s a light flush on his cheeks as he looks at your swollen lips.
“You are quite beautiful, my lady.” It’s said so quietly, you wonder if it was supposed to be a secret. You’d like to know all his secrets, you think.
When you don’t respond, his mouth attaches itself to your neck. A sharp pain if him biting is followed by a light sucking as if to soothe it.
You aren’t sure where to put your hands, they’ve stayed at your side due to your shyness and uncertainty.
“Have you been with many women?” The question leaves your mouth before your mind even processes that you’ve asked it.
His mouth stops moving against your skin as your blood runs cold, shaking, and wide eyed when he pulls away to look at you.
Sharpe eye studies your features, like a lion about to eat a lamb. Or, perhaps, a dragon ready to burn a rose.
He steps back, taking your hand as he sighs and looks away from you in, shame?
“When I was thirteen, Aegon took me to a brothel. Told me it was time to get it wet,”
You grimace at his word choice, but when you see how he’s looking at you, you squeeze his hand.
“To put it lightly, my dear lady, it was not a very nice experience. I have been with very few women since,”
Shame fills you at his words, and before he can continue you speak quickly, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to push you into speaking about an event you-“
His hands are back on your face, holding your cheeks, “You are my wife.” It’s a statement, and his words come out slightly harsh, “You are entitled to every piece of me. I will tell you everything you wish to know about me,”
His kiss is full of fire this time, claiming your lips with such an intensity. His body is pressed full against yours; you can feel his toned chest through his shirt. The fabric is soft against your chest, and as if they have a mind of their own, your hands start grasping at them hem of it desperately.
“Aemond,” It’s the first time you’ve spoken his name that way, he likes the way it sounds. Desperate, needy. Maybe he just likes that it comes from you.
Aemond was nine the first time he saw you, still had both eyes back then. You’d been visiting the Keep with your father. The King wanted updates about something, Aemond didn’t know or care what it was. All he knew was that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.
You had such grace and were so kind. Helaena didn’t have many friends at court due to her fascination with insects. But you held all the creepy crawlers she held out to you, spent the day reading to her so she didn’t have to pull herself away from the bugs.
You were younger than him, but he didn’t care. He liked the way your voice sounded as you read to Helaena, how you laughed when she would whisper out name ideas for her bugs and then look to you to see if the name suited the bug, how you smiled at him when you would catch him sitting just far enough to not be seen but to hear.
You left with your father, and then a year later he heard a servant that you’d been taken to Winterfell to see how you’d pair with Cregan Stark.
After he lost his eye, he told his mother it was a fair trade, and that he’d gotten Vhagar in return, so it didn’t matter. But after he heard Rhaenyra speak of you to Daemon, of her hopes to marry you to Jace, he back tracked.
When they returned to King’s Landing from Driftmark, he told his mother he felt like he deserved to choose his future bride- and that he would want you in return for his lost eye. Truly the rest was history; she brought the request to Viserys stating that it was the least he could be given after what was taken from him.
Viserys allowed it but stated that it would have to be on your father’s terms on when and how if he agreed. It was no surprise that he did agree, though. Lord Tyrell is a proud man and agreed after a few years of discussion and persuasion.
“My lady,” Your thighs involuntarily press together at the way he says it, like he owns you; and he does.
He smirks at the way your body reacts to him just speaking, “May I touch you?”
You moan and breathe out a whine, “If you’d like,”
He pulls away from you just enough to remove the shirt from his body, and then he grabs your hands and places them on his chest.
“I’d like it if you would touch me as well,” His request comes out confident, almost like a demand. Almost everything he says causes more and more heat to flood your body and your lower stomach.
Your shy hands trace over the whole expanse of his chest, rubbing, squeezing, light scratching. Your eyes stay on his face, drinking in every reaction. The way he opens his mouth and lets out a breathy gasp, how his eye closes, and head goes back when you scratch lightly over his pectoral muscles.
With a sudden surge of confidence, you slowly move closer and place a light kiss on his neck. A quiet groan leaves his mouth in response, and you take it as encouragement to continue. A hand moves to your head, lightly holding the back of your neck in place as you suck and bite as he did to you.
You don’t register that he’s been moving you backwards until your knees hit the bed, causing you to gasp and pull away.
Both his hands are back on your face as he slowly lowers you so you’re lying flat, you go to question him when he doesn’t join you, but to your confusion he moves to his knees between your legs.
“What are you-“ The question dies on your tongue when you feel his hands move up your thighs and close to your core.
This is definitely not normal. You’ve never heard of this being part of any bedding. In a panic your hands rush to his face as it gets closer to your core, “What are you doing?”
His eye finds yours and studies your face before smirking, “Just lay back and let me make you feel good, wife.”
Before you can respond you feel his tongue on you, no- in you.
“Oh, gods.”
It’s really unlike anything you’ve ever felt, it’s nearly overwhelming. All you can feel is him. His hands on your inner thighs holding you open for him, his fingers gripping so hard they’re surely leaving bruises, his tongue, gods his tongue.
A finger lightly traces at your entrance, teasingly. The finger makes its way inside you as he sucks on your clit.
“Aemond,” He pulls away at his name leaving your mouth, eye finding you with your head back and hands clutching the bedding at your sides so tightly your knuckles are turning white.
His free hand reaches for one of your own, intertwining your fingers, eye not leaving your face as he adds another inside you, scissoring the two of them lightly while his thumb rubs circles on your clit.
“Do you feel good?” His tone is slightly cocky, but when your eyes look at his face, you see he looks slightly shy.
Before you can respond, his fingers curl inside you and you’re eyes are squeezing shut as a sharp whine leaves your mouth. He hums thoughtfully at your reaction before doing the same thing again, again, again until.
“Oh, please, please, please,” Your nails are digging into his skin, so hard it may be drawing blood, and your thighs begin shaking by his head when his mouth finds your clit again. His fingers don’t falter inside you until your voice pitches up due to the overstimulation.
You finally open your eyes and watch as he sticks the two fingers that had just been inside you into his mouth before looking at you with a smirk as he leans his head back down to lick from the bottom of your cunt back up to your clit.
Wheezing, your thighs move to close themselves as both your hands reach for his head to push him away from you.
Aemond lets out a laugh as he pulls away from your cunt and crawls up your body. Big arms cage you in as he looks at you with something akin to adoration.
“You taste so good,” He says it in such an attractive manner, you’ve never though any words like that would sound so good coming from someone’s mouth. “Would you like to try it?”
You flush at his words, embarrassment filling you before you nod shyly. His smirk deepens as he presses his mouth to yours.
You moan at the feeling of his mouth back on your own, gasping when his hands places itself on your breasts and tweaks with your nipples, and Aemond takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth when you do.
The taste is slightly sweet, slightly bitter. Tangy, would be a better word, maybe like a Dornish wine or an orange. His cock is straining in his pants as he presses himself up against your cunt, the size takes you by surprise. It feels large, much bigger than his fingers and much too big to fit inside you, but between the feeling of his hands on your breasts, the heat coming off of his bare chest where your hands dig into his shoulders, and the taste of yourself on his mouth as his tongue maps out the inside of your mouth.
A surge of boldness fills you and you remove a hand from one of his shoulders and reach between the two of you, grabbing lightly and unsurely at his cock. The action causes him to pull away from you as a surprised moan leaves his mouth.
There’s a fire in his eye as he looks at you, watching you as you look up with him with uncertain yet shining eyes at everything you’re feeling for the very first time. At his hands no less.
A smirk crawls it’s way back on it’s face, “Do you want to make me feel good, little wife?”
“Yes,” Your answer causes him to let out a pleased hum, but to your confusion he pulls your hand away from his cock.
“Next time I’ll teach you how to please me the way I did you. I don’t want to overwhelm you this time,” His eye holds tenderness as he says the sweet words that light your body on fire.
“This is not how I expected tonight to go,” Your shy words cause a sympathetic smile to show on his features.
“Many husbands don’t care for their wife’s pleasure,” His hands are untying the laces on his pants as he moves up from the bed to strip himself of them. Pride fills him when your eyes widen at the site of his cock.
It’s long and thick, it sits hard and proud up against his stomach, almost hitting his naval. It’s as pale as the rest of him, slightly red at the tip. A bead of precum drips from the tip and down his shaft, your eyes follow it to his balls. There also big, no surprise. The hair so pale that if there is any, you can’t see it. They look heavy, almost uncomfortable.
“Does it hurt?” The question spills out of your mouth, and Aemond wants to laugh until he sees how serious you are.
“No, it’s just uncomfortable,” You’re wide eyes find his face again, another question that almost makes him laugh.
“Will it fit inside me?” You really don’t think it will, or if it does, it’ll be in your stomach. The though makes you nervous.
“We’ll go slow, if you’d like,” He crawls back on top of you, hands finding your thighs so he can fit his body in between them.
His cock is hot against the skin of your thigh, the tip lightly brushes your folds causing you to shiver. His hand grabs at the base of his cock, guiding the tip from your clit to your hole, then back up. Little gasps leave you every time it bumps against your clit or catches on your tight hole.
Aemond holds a lot of restraint, but he can only hold so much, “I’m going to put it in now,”
He looks to you for you to consent, but tenses when your hands shyly reach up at the leather straps of the patch covering his eye.
“Can you take this off?” Your eyes hold no fear, just slight uncertainty.
His face doesn’t change at all, “I’d rather not scare you-“
“I am bare before you, as your wife. You could be bare for me as my husband, as well.” You’re voice doesn’t shake at all, for the first time all evening, he notes.
With a sigh, he takes his hand from your thigh and closes his eye as he takes the patch off. He doesn’t want to see your inevitable reaction of fear or disgust before you turn over and have him take you from behind.
Aemond flinches when he feels your hand tracing his scar, from his forehead, over the sapphire in place of where his eye should be, down to where it ends.
He hears you take in a shaky breath before your mouth is diving up towards his, and for the first time all evening you’ve taken control of something. He enjoys it, the way your tongue forces its way into his mouth.
He kisses you back with the same amount of energy, sucking on your tongue and nipping at your lips until you pull away. His eye studies you, the lust filled look in your eyes and flush covering you with swollen, wet lips.
“You may take me now, Aemond,” The words are but a whisper, but he hears you clearly.
His cock is, now, painfully hard as he nods and tightens his grip so he can carefully guide himself inside you.
He hisses though his teeth at the feeling of your cunt, slick and warm and tight, enveloping his cock. You’re the tightest thing he’s ever felt.
An animalistic feeling nearly overcomes him. He feels a primal need to shove his cock all the way inside you, rip through your maidenhead and fuck you full of him. He want to see your blood on his cock as he thrust inside you, fill you full of him, fuck you so hard there’s no questioning if his seed took tonight.
The feeling is slightly different for you. The stretch is uncomfortable, and it stings slightly, it causes you to feel so full you may burst or overfill. He goes slow, like he promised, but you can feel his body shaking above you as he restrains himself from taking you like an animal.
When he reaches the barrier of your maidenhead, he halts, “I have to push a little harder, here,”
A flash of fear flashes through your eyes for a brief moment before you nod for him to continue.
With a shaky exhale, he pulls back slightly and then pushes forward sharply, a little too sharply. Because the next thing he knows you’ve got tears streaming down your face and his pelvis is flush with yours. It’s hot and so, so tight. It, you, feel so fucking good.
His mouth is hanging open slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to gain control over himself. When he looks down at you, he feels guilt coarse through him.
“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry,” You take not that while his voice doesn’t sound sorry, his eye shows that he is. Hands reach for your cheeks so he can wipe the tears that have been falling from your eyes away.
You remove an arm from around his shoulder and move your hand to grip at a wrist that is by your face, “It’s okay-“
His voice is strained, “Oh, fuck, it’s not. I told you we would go slow,”
His eye holds guilt, but you can’t help but notice how beautiful he looks above you. No eye patch covering his features, his hair, though still pulled back, slightly messy, sharp facial features gleaming in the moonlight and the light from the fire.
He thinks you look unreal. Hair, still slightly curled, sits around you beautifully, eyes are gleaming with stars in the despite the tears from the pain still lingering, lips bruised and swollen from his own mouth.
“You can move now,” He looks unsure at your words and goes to speak his protests, but you interrupt. “Take me, husband.”
He obliges to your demand, pulling his hips back before pushing them forward. He goes slow at first, in and out at a steady rhythm, relishing in the moans and gasps and whines that leave your mouth, the chants of his name Aemond, Aemond, Aemond.
He dips his head to kiss your cheeks, down your jaw and latches onto your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as he starts thrusting deeper, harder. His pelvis grinds against your clit, and between that sensation, the pace of his thrusts when his cock hits the same spot his fingers found earlier and up to your cervix, his mouth on your neck, it doesn’t take long for your cunt to start clenching on his cock harder.
A deep groan leaves him at the way your cunt grips his cock, sucking him in and trying to keep him there forever. He would gladly stay inside you forever.
He pulls away from your neck to look at you, wanting to look at your face as you cum around his cock, as you feel his cum inside you.
Your eyes are rolled back so far he can only see the whites of them, bruises litter your collarbones and neck, marks of him all over you. Your nipples are hard and brush against his chest as your back arches while you lose yourself in the pleasure.
His balls tighten up more the longer he looks at you, and he moves his thumb to your clit, pushing you over the edge after one, two, three circles over it.
“Aemond!” Your voice sounds heavenly when you moan his name. His hips don’t falter their pace nor does his thumb stop rubbing until your cunt has loosened its vice grip on his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm and through the aftershocks before he grabs one of your legs.
You’re still shaking from your orgasm when you feel him lift your leg up and over his arm and onto his shoulder before he’s leaning over you. Your eyes shoot open at the newer, deeper angle.
“I don’t think-“
Before the sentence can leave your mouth, his hips pick up a pace very unlike the one you had just grown accustomed to. Your eyes cross as your hands shot up to his shoulders, trying to push him away and stop the overstimulation.
His head is thrown back in deep pleasure, groans and low moans of your name leaving his mouth as he listens to the wet slap, slap, slap of his body meeting yours. His pace picks up and becomes less rhythmic as his orgasm hits him.
You cry out his name with tears running down your face as your cunt clenches down for a third time, squeezing him so tightly that all he can do is push all the way in and let his cum flood you. His hips lightly move back and forth, fucking himself and you through your orgasms as you feel his cum fill you so much it starts slipping out around his cock and down your ass.              
He stays inside you as your shake in the aftermath, feeling sweaty and sticky as he presses his cheek against your own, breathing you in and just feeling you for a while before he finally pull back just enough to look at you. Bodies still pressed together, cunt still plugged with his cock to hold his cum in, to make sure it takes. To make sure his son is filling you.
His eye is holding yours in a stare, and a soft smile takes over his face as you smile up at him tiredly. He feels something warm ignite in his chest as you look at him, the glow of the orgasm, the smile on your face, a sparkle in your eyes that looks like stars.
Aemond presses his mouth to yours before you can say anything. He wonders to himself if he can light your world up the way you’re already doing his.
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cranetreegang · 1 year
Text
The Polyjuice Ploy - Ominis x FemReader
Well... this got out of hand. This was a request made by this lovely person -> @mentosanu and here is the original post/request
Hopefully I have not gone too crazy and this is somewhat what you wanted lol. if not... my b.
Shoutout again to @isolight for reading this over <3 you da best
Music to enjoy -> Flight of Dragons
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Summary: Sebastian and Ominis, after reading through an old textbook, get the idea of Ominis drinking a Polyjuice Potion to enjoy a day of sight and surprise a certain special someone ;)
Word Count: ~7,8-, (checks word count again... omfg) ~7,800 words
Warnings: angst/hurt, slightly heated kissing, comfort/fluff
Credit to the Harry Potter website and JK where I basically stole *cough* rewrote the description of what a polyjuice potion does and the affects of the polyjuice when ominis transforms
Read my other Ominis Fics Here
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Ominis rests his head into his palm with a sigh. His quill writes out the last sentences he needs for his essay and he couldn’t be happier to be nearly done. Footsteps echoing on stone catch his attention, followed by the gate of the Undercroft rattling open. 
“Ah, was hoping to find you here.” Sebastian greets. 
“Looking for me, were you?” Ominis spares Sebastian a grin in greeting. “I’m busy at the moment, but if you don’t mind waiting-,”
Something heavy drops onto the table Ominis is using, sloshing his pot of ink. Ominis frowns as he feels over the object in front of him. 
“Why… what is this?” Ominis questions, tracing over the worn cover of a leather tome. He runs his other hand along the spine. The bindings of the book are exposed and he can feel the bumps of worn cords holding the loose pages together. Even the leather is peeling on the corners and edges. Whatever the title of the tome was, it’s long since faded as his wand can’t find a legible letter to decipher.
“Some light reading I need help with.” Sebastian states while he takes a seat next to Ominis.
Ominis sighs, “I don’t have time for this, Sebastian. I must finish this report for Profess-,”
“That can wait. This is far more pressing.” Sebastian shoves away all of Ominis’ writing utensils. 
“Sebastian!”
“Ominis, you were the one saying I needed to find other ways to cure Anne. Well, this could be it. Now, are you going to help me, or sit there and complain?” 
Ominis lets out a deep breath while he flips the book open, “Fine. But only for a little bit. Then I must finish my report.” Ominis stresses with a glare aimed towards Sebastian. 
“Thank you, my friend. I won’t soon forget this.” 
Ominis skims through the pages. Seems Sebastian procured an archaic textbook dated back to the first few years of Hogwarts - detailing the more illicit potions you could make. Elixirs ranging from the mundane boil remover to the far more deadly Eternal Sleep Draughts. Ominis doesn’t find much in the book to help Anne, not even a remedy to help with the pain. He flips to another page when he pauses. 
It enables the consumer to assume the physical appearance of another person, as long as they have first procured part of that individual’s body to add to the brew. The effects of the potion are only temporary, and, depending on how well it has been brewed, may last anywhere from ten minutes to twelve hours. You are able to change age, sex, and race by taking the Polyjuice Potion, but not species.
The more he reads, the more his thoughts stray from searching for a cure for Anne. To take on the physical appearance of someone else and to change… 
“Find something?” Sebastian questions, glancing over Ominis’ still wand digging into the page.
“No.” Ominis states and tries to turn to another section of the book, but Sebastian snatches the tome from Ominis’ grasp. He examines what has caught Ominis’ attention and Sebastian’s brows furrow at what he finds.
“Polyjuice Potion?” Sebastian looks over to Ominis. 
“I’m sorry. I got distracted. Can we please move on and go back to the task at hand?” Ominis reaches for the book, but Sebastian keeps it just out of his reach and chuckles.
“Why’re you so interested in a Polyjuice Potion, Ominis?” 
Ominis huffs with a shake of his head, “I’m not.”
Sebastian rolls his eyes, “You most definitely are.” 
Ominis crosses his arms with a snarl, “And if I am? What of it?”
Sebastian reads over the passage again, a smile forming on his lips, “I can see why you would be. If I’m thinking the same thing you are.” 
“It’s silly. I shouldn’t even entertain the thought.” Ominis dismisses. 
“Why not? Wouldn’t you want to spend the day being able to see?” 
Ominis frowns, “But, it wouldn’t be through my own eyes. It would have to be through someone else's. And I doubt anybody would be willing to give me a lock of hair for such a thing.” 
Sebastian puts his hand on Ominis’ shoulder with a slight grin, “It’s a good thing I am that somebody.” 
“What?”
“You heard me. I think we should make this potion and once it’s done, you can use my hair. It’ll be perfect!” Sebastian shakes Ominis in his excitement.
“Brewing a Polyjuice Potion takes time. And, far more importantly, skill. A skill I doubt either of us possesses.” 
Sebastian leans back in his chair with a hum, “That could pose a problem. Unless, we found someone to make us the potion.” 
Ominis cranes his head, “Who would be willing to-,” the words die in his mouth. His lips thin as he nods, “I know of someone. I’ll have to reach out to them though.” 
Sebastian claps his hands together with a grin, “Excellent. This may be one of your better ideas, Ominis.” 
Ominis snatches the book from Sebastain and goes back to researching, “We shall see, won’t we?”
===========================
Two weeks pass before Ominis receives word back from his contact. The letter is brief and Ominis is filled with excited trepidation as he heads to the Hog’s Head for the meeting. Ominis is relieved the transaction is quick, with few words exchanged. Ominis keeps the potion close to his chest as he heads to the Undercroft to stash it away until the right moment. 
Three days later, Sebastian finds Ominis pacing in the Undercroft. 
“Sorry I’m late.” Sebastian greets. “Ready for this?”
Ominis shakes his head, “I don’t know. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” 
“What’s the problem? You seemed sure yesterday.” 
Ominis stops, letting out a sigh, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? If you’re have any doubts, I-,” 
“I want to do this, Ominis.” Sebastian interjects. “Now, where is that potion before you change your mind.” 
Ominis reaches into his pocket and hands the potion over to Sebastian. Sebastain holds the palm-sized phial up to the fire’s light. He plucks out a few strands of his hair then he places them into the potion. A faint sizzling sound can be heard as Sebastian swirls the muddy liquid. Sebastian hands the potion back to Ominis.
“Drink up.” Sebastian grins. 
Ominis holds the potion in his hand - willing away his nerves. He raises the potion up with a slight smile, “Cheers.” 
He downs the thick liquid, refusing to allow himself to gag at the taste and consistency. 
Immediately, his insides start writhing and twisting. He doubles over, wondering if he’s going to throw up the concoction. A burning sensation spreads rapidly from his stomach to the tips of his fingers and toes. It’s enough to bring him gasping to all fours, whimpering and moaning as a horrible melting feeling begins to overtake him. His skin feels like it’s bubbling. His fingers stretch out, growing larger and longer. He hears the popping of his joints as they shift into their new positions over the rushing of blood in his ears. His shoulders stretch and he’s constricted in his own clothes. He rips off his robe, flinging it away, and his legs and feet are in agony. His shoes are now two sizes too small and he could feel his hair resting along his forehead instead of being neatly styled back. 
“Ominis! Ominis, are you alright? Answer me!” Sebastian demands, flipping Ominis over to his back.
Ominis spares him a nod, finding his tongue to be too heavy and thick in his mouth to speak. He no longer feels like he’s ripping apart and the nausea he felt has all but evaporated. 
Sebastian chuckles, “Wow. I… this is absolutely dotty.” 
Ominis’ brows pinch and Sebastian’s hands assist him into a sitting position. 
“Ominis. Open your eyes.” Sebastian urges. 
Ominis sucks in a sharp breath then slowly opens his eyes. A bright face grinning back at him is the first thing he sees. Ominis stares at the boy, taking in the sight. 
“Sebastian?” His voice is not his own and Sebastian’s eyes widen.
“Whoa! Oh, wow, Ominis. You can see.” Sebastian’s grin is contagious and Ominis matches his excitement. 
“I can see. I see you.” Ominis reaches up and touches Sebastian’s face, his eyes blurring with sharp tears burning his eyes and throat. Sebastian lets Ominis trace over his smiling face. It’s all so familiar. The bridge of Sebastian’s nose all the way down to the curve of his brows. Ominis didn’t expect his friend to have such dark eyes and dots all over his face. Sebastian’s hair is about how he pictured though - a thick mess on top of his head.
“Well? Am I what you envisioned, or have I disappointed?” Sebastian teases. 
Ominis shakes his head, “You’re nothing like I envisioned. Yet, it makes sense. I-,” he turns his attention to around them. He gets to his shaky legs and laughs as he looks around. 
The room is far less inviting than he imagined with the stone being a dull, dreary hue. The lights of the brazers and candles lures him closer. The warmth of their light takes his breath away and his hand reaches out to hover just over the flames. He turns his gaze to all the crates, boxes, and other items stored away down here. Some are covered in a fine layer of dust, while others are draped over with light colored sheets.
“This is the Undercroft.” Ominis mumbles to himself. 
“Indeed it is.” Sebastian grabs each of Ominis’ shoulders and drags him over to a cracked mirror. “And here you are.” 
Ominis stares at the two identical boys in the mirror. Ominis’ eyes widen and the boy across from him does the same. He tilts his head and so does the reflection. He touches over his cheek and drags his fingers down over the tanned, freckled skin. 
He looks over to Sebastian, “How odd indeed.” 
“I must say, this is probably the best you’ve ever looked, Ominis.” Sebastian smirks. 
Ominis laughs, “I’m sure.” 
Ominis stares at Sebastian, finding it unbelievable he can actually see his friend looking back at him with a devilish smile. He could always hear Sebastian’s smirks when he spoke, but to see how it affects his face, especially his eyes - illuminating them in a way Ominis doesn’t quite understand - makes him wonder if all people are this animated.
“Well, as exciting as being here is, there’s a whole bunch of things you ought to see before that potion wears off.” Sebastian states. 
Ominis nods, “Yes. Of course. Where should we begin?” 
Sebastian smirks while guiding Ominis towards the exit gate, “Sorry, my friend, but I’m afraid I can’t go with you.” 
“What?! Why not? This was practically your idea.” Ominis scowls. 
Sebastian raises a brow, “Oh? And tell me how good of an idea will it be for the both of us to be seen together right now? They know I’m a twin, but I doubt they’ll believe this.” He gestures over Ominis. 
“Besides,” Sebastian slips off his robe and tosses it to Ominis, “you already have plans today.” 
“I do?” Ominis shrugs on the robe, adjusting the sleeves and rolling his shoulders.
“Yep! You’re supposed to be meeting up with a certain special someone right about now.” Sebastian grins.
“What? You made plans with her?” Ominis crosses his arms with a frown. 
Sebastian rolls his eyes, “By I, I mean, you, Ominis.” 
Ominis’ brows furrow, “You mean to say you didn’t tell her what we’re doing.” 
“No. It’s better this way - trust me.” Sebastian opens the gate and motions for Ominis to go through, “Now, go to the North Exit. And have fun today. I’ll be here waiting until you come back.” 
Ominis wants to protest, but Sebastian slams the gate closed in his face and starts walking away. Ominis sighs, making his way out of the Undercroft. 
He’s met with a near blinding light once he emerges from the clock. His eyes roam all over, taking in the sights of students passing by. He grips his wand and follows the familiar vibrations towards the North Exit, but his stride is slow. The sounds he’s heard all start to merge together. The paintings, the statues, the students, the smells of certain plants - all of it forms the full picture before him. He stops several times in front of vibrant paintings of faraway places, suits of armor shining in the light, and when he takes a bridge outside, he’s completely entranced. 
The sky above is a color he finds the most pleasing. Blue. That must be the color blue, he realizes. With gentle clouds rolling by, he’s starting to understand how people can gaze up at the heavens for hours on end. Students zip by on their brooms and he laughs at how wonderful the sight is. The sun peeks out over the towering castle. He can’t believe how small the sun is - he always imagined it taking up half the sky considering how much the light reaches. He has to look away when his eyes begin to burn and dark spots blot his vision. He continues his journey to the North Exit, but as he gets closer and closer the more his nerves start to show themselves. 
Seeing Sebastian for the first time was surprising, so he can only imagine how he’ll react to seeing her. His heart won’t slow down - it keeps getting faster and faster with every step closer he gets. His hands clench and unclench themselves and he’s practically grinding his teeth into dust. He’s tempted to turn around, hide in the Undercroft until the potion wears off, just to cease this torture. He’s at the stairway gripping the cool railing as he descends. Just before he reaches the last step, the vibrations of his wand pick up a familiar aura of someone. His stomach twists. He looks over to find a girl standing by the door. 
She cranes her head and smiles with a light wave, “Sebastian! What’re you doing here?” 
Ominis freezes in place - his mind barely able to shove his wand into his robe’s pockets. His heart hammers in his chest and he can’t breathe. She walks towards him with confusion lacing her eyes. Her eyes. He can’t stop staring at them. They’re a beautiful color he’s not familiar with. They almost seem to sparkle. And how she moves is enchanting. It’s like she’s floating right over to him. Her perfume reaches his nose and a smile stretches across his face at the familiarity. 
“Sebastian? Everything alright? Do I have something on my face?” She laughs, but her brows pinch together with slight worry at the thought. 
“What? Um, no. I-, You look great. I-I mean, you’re-, It’s fine.” Ominis curses himself and decides shutting his mouth would be best for now until he regains control of his rattled mind. 
She nods with her eyes slightly narrowed, “Well, um, have you seen Ominis?” 
“Ominis?” 
She laughs, “Yes, Ominis. You know, our friend? You said he’d be meeting me here to go to Hogsmeade. But, it looks like he’s running late.” 
Damn Sebastian for telling her that. He probably thinks he’s so clever, Ominis seethes to himself. 
“Well, actually…,” Ominis takes in her awaiting features, noting how much her face speaks for her - much like Sebastian’s. If only he could recognize what emotion she’s currently conveying with her pinched brows and slight frown. Perhaps Sebastian had a point about not telling her. He turns his gaze to the ground, “He said he wouldn’t be able to make it.” 
“Oh.” Her frown fully forms and she looks away, “D-Did he say why?” 
He curses himself at lying, but he can’t back down now, “He said he wasn’t feeling like himself.”
She nods, slow and disappointed, “I see. I should probably go check on him if he’s not feeling well.” 
“No!” Ominis exclaims, making her eyes widen. “I mean, we could go to Hogsmeade together instead.” 
She cranes her head, her eyes scanning over him as her mouth parts and closes several times. 
“Ominis said I should take you.” He blurts out. “You know, as to not disappoint. He feels terrible about all of this.” 
She spares him a small smile, “Ever the gentleman. Alright, if you don’t mind, I suppose it’d be nice to get away from the castle for the afternoon.” 
He can’t stop his grin from forming and he holds out his arm for her, “Shall we?” 
She raises a brow at him and he realizes all too late how odd this gesture is for ‘Sebastian’ to be making. He quickly lowers his arm and takes the lead with a hurried gait. She doesn’t follow immediately and it takes her a few long strides to catch back up. He opens the door and he’s taken back by the sight which greets him.
The lawn is a vivid pigment in contrast to the stone which cuts through it. The grass is lush and inviting. He kneels down and rests his hand on it. The grass ripples from the wind and he’s beguiled by how peaceful the motion is. He’s felt it a hundred times, but to see it actually happen as it moves in waves across the field makes his smile widen. He remembers Sebastian saying that grass is normally green. He takes in the color of green and how it paints the trees as well in a different shade - a more richer, green. 
“Everything alright?” 
He whips his head over to her, who watches him with a worrying gaze. He quickly stands back up.
“Fine. I apologize - I thought I saw something.” He walks ahead and she keeps up with him. 
Ominis tries to keep himself from staring too long at the fountain as they pass. The water trickles and rings in his ears in a pleasant way, and he wouldn’t mind staring at the rippling water, but he forces himself to keep walking. They continue along the path and when they reach the bridge, he practically slams his chest against the railing to look at the river below.
The water rushes over the different colored rocks, taking various debris of leaves and twigs down stream. He follows the river until he sees the lake shimmering in the distance. He’s aware of her standing by him and her eyes are trained at where he was staring. 
“Something caught your eye again?” She wonders.
“Yes, but it was nothing.” He dismisses. 
She nods with a slight grin, “Are you sure you haven’t caught what currently plagues Ominis? You’re being quite odd today.” 
“I’m fine.” Ominis smiles at her and she nods, but the way her gaze seems to be piercing right through him makes him feel exposed. 
Despite doing his best to keep his eyes straight ahead instead of looking around, he can’t help himself. He can’t believe how beautiful the world is. He looks above them at the tree limbs overhanging the path. The sunlight filters through the canopy and he’s in awe at how such a simple thing could be so magnificent. He could actually see the rays of sunlight - he even reaches out to grab it. Little flying creatures flutter past them towards the bright flowers growing beside the path and he can’t quell his smile as he watches. The sound of the trumpet flowers makes him pause. While the flowers themselves were dazzling, their obnoxious noise masks any notes of admiration within him. 
“You’re quiet today.” She says, bringing his attention to her. The sun illuminates her skin and hair, making her glow. He’s taken back by how captivating she is. His heart picks back up again and his stomach flutters and twists. He likes watching how her voice and lips work in tandem to speak. Then he realizes she’s said something else.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” He mumbles. 
She stops walking, making him do the same, “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” 
“Yes. I’m fine, I assure you.” 
She opens her mouth, but promptly shuts it. She scans over him again then resumes walking. There’s an emotion written upon her face, but he’s not sure what it is. He’s finding great difficulty in discerning anything she says, too. A task he had no trouble with before, but now his mind can’t piece together her face with what’s being said.
The path winds up the hill and as they reach the top, his breath escapes him at the sight of Hogwarts in the distance. He all but sprints towards the overlook and he lets out a slight laugh at the castle. It was grand. Truly, and utterly, grand. The lake surrounds the school - which seemingly emerged with the jagged rocks which encompasses it. The towering trees seem almost insignificant compared to the striking, massive castle. 
“Quite a sight.” She says with a sigh while she joins him at the railing. “It never fails to give me goosebumps.” 
A flock of birds fly in front of Hogwarts and Ominis nods, “Magnificent.” 
She watches him and her lips try tugging into a smile, but she refuses to let it form. She pats the railing then turns towards the path.
“Come along. We’re nearly there.” 
Ominis takes in Hogwarts for a moment longer before following after her. 
He’s looking up at a tree with leaves that were not green, but a light, almost soft color. He’s perplexed by the idea of trees being more than just green when his eyes widen at the entrance to the town. Hogsmeade is bustling with students and patrons alike - some rushing to get to where they need to be while others stroll about with not a care in the world.
She turns to him with a slight grin, “How about checking out Gladrags first? I’m in need of a new pair of gloves.” 
He nods, his eyes darting everywhere. So much is happening, it’s enough to spin his head. Hogsmeade has always been a bit overwhelming to his senses - so many smells, sounds, and people. It makes it hard for him to know what’s happening, or where he was at times. Now, he sees the chaos before him is just as he imagined. Cauldrons bubble over crackling fires, lively music plays in the distance, several conversations all happening at once - it makes him grin with how mad this whole place is.
A hand takes his and he doesn’t think twice about grasping it back, letting it tug him along as he looks around. His mind catches up to him after a few steps and he looks down to find her leading him. He’s about to take his hand back and come up with some excuse to his bewilderment, but she glances towards him with a soft smile. This smile is far different from the others she’s had. It reaches all the way to her eyes. For some reason, it makes his chest warm and his breathing choppy - he can’t possibly remove his hand now. Not if it means extinguishing this feeling.
Her pace is far easier than it was on the way here. It gives him plenty of time to take in the sights of the different shops as they pass by. He recognizes the scents of some, like Honeydukes and The Three Broomsticks, and others surprise him by their appearance, like Spintwitches. Birds fly overhead - which he figures out are owls due to the parcels they carry - and watering cans zip past to the different rows of blooming flowers. He notices the hanging lights overhead and he wonders what nighttime must look like. 
Honeydukes’ display of assorted, bright candy is what brings him to a full stop. The candy is vibrant and comes in so many designs and shapes. 
“Do you want to go inside?” She questions.
He slowly nods and she giggles - leading him into the candy shop. 
He can’t contain his smile at the vast array of colors before him. There’s more than he could ever imagine and he feels somewhat annoyed by how little everyone has told him - giving him only basic colors and denying him the plethora of shades they come in. It makes what he saw at Hogwarts seem almost muted in tone by comparison. 
They browse the vast selection of succulent candies, chocolates, and cakes until he finds his favorite - Peppermint Toad. He picks up the box with a grin. He’s always enjoyed the sharp mint taste and how the toad hops around in his stomach after. He finds the whole experience amusing - much to Anne and Sebastian’s confusion. 
“Is there anything you would like?” He asks, glancing towards her. 
She laughs, “You want to get me something?” 
He nods, “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” 
She bites her lip with a slight shake of her head, “I wouldn’t mind a Chocolate Frog then. Since you’re offering.” 
He pays for their sweets and they head back out - making their way towards Gladrags. He stares at the toad-shaped treat, noting how the pattern swirls with two different colors which possess a slight shine, before he pops it into his mouth. He frowns for a moment at the peppermint taste not being nearly as predominant as he remembers. While the toad hops in his stomach, she’s already eaten her chocolate and is examining her card.
“Merlin’s Beard. I got Almeric Sawbridge. Again.” She huffs.
He laughs at her sour expression. Her frown melts away into a warm grin and she looks away.
“I didn’t know you liked Peppermint Toads.” She comments. “Thought only Ominis did.” 
Ominis curses himself for not thinking about such an oversight.
“I… normally don’t. I only wanted to see why Ominis enjoys them so.” He says.
“And?” She smiles. “What’s your verdict?” 
“They’re adequate.”
She giggles with a slight shake of her head.
They arrive at Gladrags and the smell of pigment and fabric greet them as they walk in. She wanders over to a dress on display. She skims over the fabric with a slight smile then looks over to him.
“What do you think of this orange?” She wonders. 
The dark, rich color is almost regal in appearance. He touches the dress, following the seam down the bodice and enjoying the stiff material. 
“It looks beautiful.” He says. 
Her eyes are aflame and a wide smile comes over her. She bites her lip then turns away towards the scarves. She looks over them until she finds one. She holds it out to inspect it before turning back to him.
“Do you think Ominis would like this?” She asks. 
The monotonous tone of the scarf doesn’t evoke anything in him until he feels the article of clothing. It’s soft and brings a smile to his face. 
“I like it.” He comments then shakes his head. “So, I’m sure Ominis would as well.” 
She laughs, wrapping the scarf around his neck, “I’m glad you think so. Mind holding on to it for me then?” 
“I-, of course.” He can feel his cheeks heating up as she smooths down the scarf on his chest. When her eyes meet his, a gasp escapes him. He feels encapsulated in a warmth he’s never experienced before. All from one single look. He’s slightly thankful he can’t see her all the time for he’s sure he would never be able to speak a coherent sentence to her otherwise. 
 She pays for the scarf then grabs his hand again, leading him outside. She turns to him with a grin. 
“What would you like to do today?”
The question takes him by surprise and he can’t form a single thought to reply back to her. 
“Well, if you have nothing in mind, then I may have something we can do.” 
He smiles, “Lead the way.” 
She squeezes his hand and his heart soars at the twinkle in her eyes. She’s up to something, but he can’t find it in himself to care. She leads him through Hogsmeade until they’re at the park. He’s heard the dragon’s rumbles from the topiary before, but he finds great amusement in seeing it. It’s far more animated than he imagined. And the dragon itself, while somewhat cute, gives him a slight shiver at how powerful of a beast they are. The colorful, flowered trees rain down their petals and he reaches out to grab one, but it slips right through his fingers. She takes them to the overlook and he can see the train station below them. Over in the distance, Hogwarts stands noblely. 
“Well,” he faces her, “what did you have in mind?” 
She has a sly smile as she gazes out over the scenery before them. The wind ruffles through her hair and he’s momentarily dizzy due to his lack of breathing. He needs to cease his staring, lest he die from self-induced asphyxiation, yet he's drawn to her and he’s unable to break away.
“It’s a fine day for some sightseeing.” She reaches into her robes and pulls out a worn, leather duffle bag. She glances around to ensure they’re still alone before she opens the bag. 
A whooshing noise, followed by a light, emits from the bag. Before his eyes, a giant beast emerges, followed by another similar beast with different colorings. The creatures chirp and scratch their sharp claws on the stone ground. His eyes widen and he’s quick to step away from them and be closer to her.
“Hippogriffs.” She states. 
“What do we need them for?” He questions - not bothering to mask his apprehension. 
She grins as she goes to one of the Hippogriffs that’s similar in coloring as the scarf she gave him. 
“This is Highwing. She’s quite spectacular, isn’t she?” She holds out her hand and Highwing bumps her beak against her palm. “And the other one is her mate. Dashmane.” 
“Dashmane?” 
She giggles, “Yes, because he’s so dashing.” 
The darker shade of the beast’s plumage shimmers in the sunlight. Ominis appreciates how stunning both of the creatures are. 
“First things first, you must introduce yourself to him - by giving a low bow.” She informs him.
Ominis glances between her and Dashmane before he does as she instructed. He bows, his back low and his head even lower. His eyes dart up to the creature as Dashmane bows back to him. 
“Excellent.” She grins as she goes to Highwing’s side then mounts the awaiting beast. She looks over to him expectantly. 
“But, I-I don’t know how to fly.” He protests. 
“You’ll be fine O-,” She pauses with a slight cough, “Sebastian. You’ll pick it right up.”
He gulps as he follows her movements and manages to jump then swing his leg over Dashmane. Ominis situates himself on the beast’s back. He looks over to her and she has a pleased smile. She appears relaxed - like this is natural for her to be on the back of a Hippogriff.
“Ready?” She wonders. 
He examines Dashmane, “Where do I hold on to?” 
She shrugs, “Anywhere you can.” 
He frowns, settling on grabbing a hold of a few tufts of feathers near the nape of Dashmane’s neck. Dashmane lets out a startled squawk, rearing up and nearly sending Ominis sliding off. Dashmane gallops forward and his wings unfurl as he vaults over the stone banister. With a few mighty flaps of his wings, Dashmane is soaring over the train tracks and towards the train station. Ominis’ heart is pounding in his chest and his eyes are blurring through the tears streaming past his temple. He feels like he’s close to falling off Dashmane’s back at any moment - or at the slightest movement.
A screech gets his attention as she flies in front of him. She looks over at Ominis with a wide smile. She’s truly a natural flier with how at ease she appears to be. Her and Highwing take the lead. Dashmane lets out a chirp of his own as he tries to catch up. Bystanders below, waiting for the Hogwarts Express, all stare up as they pass overhead. She curves off to the left towards a waterfall before banking back towards the arched bridge, diving below. Ominis clutches onto Dashmane as he follows, his stomach flipping and his breathing erratic. 
She turns Highwing away from the lake and over the tree line - following the lake’s shore. She spares him glances to ensure he’s still following as she takes them over the treetops. The tips shudder and move as they fly by they’re so close. She dives below the trees, with Dashmane doing the same, and they zip along the path until she takes them high above once more. His head turns every which way as he takes in the sight of the valley from above. The rivers cut through the growth of trees similar to the veins on his hands. He spots clusters of homes tucked away in the forest. 
They head towards an old castle or keep of some kind, with a blooming tree of the same vibrant, soft color from Hogsmeade, where they fly over as they turn back towards Hogwarts. He stares at the ruined estate in wonder at what it could’ve been. He turns his attention back to her and he adjusts himself on Dashmane. He lowers himself and, as if reading his thoughts, Dashmane flaps his wings harder than before.
Dashmane finally catches up to her and Highwing. She looks over to them and she laughs.
“You’re getting the hang of it!” She shouts. “Now, try to keep up!” 
Ominis’ eyes widen as she careens towards the river below. He tightens his grip then does the same. They soar across a river until they’re back over the Black Lake. He can’t stop his heart from beating wildly, but he’s finding the rush to be too thrilling to suppress. He leans himself over enough to catch his rippled reflection in the lake. He frowns at Sebastian being the face looking back at him. He focuses back on their flight.
She’s taking them towards Hogwarts, flying higher and higher as they near. Ominis can place what some of these areas are - like the boathouse where he arrived his very first year. Feels like only yesterday when he made the climb up all those steps and entered the Great Hall for the first time.
She takes them over the ramp and heads straight for the courtyard leading to the Great Hall. Ominis can make out the students below with some of them pointing up at them as they near. Highwing angles upwards before taking a dive right past the courtyard. Ominis’ eyes widen as Dashmane follows the route and dives after them. His heart is in his throat and his stomach drops. They’re heading right into a stone bridge and his whole body tenses up. Dashmane closes up his wings and zips through the archway. 
Ominis lets out a breath as Dashmane follows along the river, keeping his wingspan small enough to navigate the narrow crevice. Highwing zips through then banks sharply to the left at the divide. He emerges from the river just as she turns back towards a waterfall underneath the castle. As they turn out to trail along the embankment of the lake, she leads them towards another cascading river towards the old wooden long bridge. 
She flies them underneath and leads them up the waterfall, flying higher and higher over a stone bridge, until she turns to the left towards a plateau. She lands at a clearing with various rocks set up in a large circle around the area. He manages to bring Dashmane into a gentle landing, prancing up to be next to Highwing. 
“See. I knew you could fly.” She grins at him, her hair windblown and her face radiating. 
“I think you were trying to get us killed.” He retorts with a smile. 
She laughs, dismounting from Highwing then him dismounting as well. She brings out the strange leather bag again and opens it. The bag sucks both Highwing and Dashmane inside. She puts the bag away then motions with her head towards the edge of the plateau. She takes a seat on the rock, her legs draping over the edge. He sits next to her and he takes in the sight before them. 
The sun is beginning to set behind them, casting a pale, but brilliant, glow upon Hogwarts. Birds fly around a tower, which he realizes is the Owlery. 
“I’m glad we got here in time.” She whispers, her eyes set towards the sunset. “I wanted your first sunset to be special.” 
“It already is-,” the words die in his mouth as he pieces together what she just said. 
“I-I mean-, what do you mean my first sunset?” He tries to play off. 
Her eyes roll over to him with an amused grin playing on her lips.
“Do not play coy with me now, Ominis. I know it’s you.” 
His eyes widen and he can feel a burning heat overtake his face. She giggles, placing a warm hand on his.
“While I was irritated you did not tell me of your ploy at first, I figured you must have your reasons to keep me in the dark on this.” 
His head falls with a sigh, “No. Not a good reason by any sort of means.” 
She laughs again, “I assume Sebastian must be involved.” 
“This was his idea, if that’s what you’re implying.” He looks over to her, “When did you figure it out?” 
She hums, “I had a feeling something was wrong when you looked at the grass like you’ve never seen it before. Then again, when we got to Hogsmeade, you were completely taken away. And Sebastian most certainly doesn’t look at me the way you did today. But, what finally confirmed my suspicions, was when I asked what you thought of that orange dress. Which was very clearly purple, by the by.” 
He closes his eyes with a soft groan, “You are far too clever of a witch at times.” He looks over to her with raised brows. “Does that mean that harrowing flight was to get back at me?” 
She bites her bottom lip, “A bit. But, to also show you as much as possible before that Polyjuice Potion wears off.” She sighs, “I wish you would’ve told me. I could’ve made today special for you.” 
“It has been special.” He takes her hand in his with a smile. 
The look upon her face sends him spiraling once more. He’s not sure what it is, but he knows how it makes him feel. She’s the first to look away and she’s back to gazing at the sunset.
“You don’t want to miss this.” She says in a quiet voice. 
He looks off towards where the sun is setting behind the rolling mountains. The hills in the distance are draped in a fog and the colors begin to bloom across the landscape. 
“What colors are these?” He wonders. 
“Well, do you see there?” She points towards a large patch of a bright pigment which echoes across the sky. “That’s actually orange.” 
“Orange.” He laughs. “I see my mistake now.” 
She smiles as she points to another section of a softer color similar to some of the vibrant trees he saw, “That there, is pink.” 
His lips stretch into a smile, “Pink. I think I do like pink.” 
“And over there,” she points toward a darker color, far richer than the rest, “is purple. And there, where the sun is, is yellow, or actually, more accurately, gold.” 
He sucks in a deep breath, taking in this new knowledge. He wants to engrain this picture before him into his mind. The clouds hold a vast array of pigments like a field of flowers. And he can see so far - miles upon miles with no end in sight. It all evokes a well of emotion within him. And when he looks down at her, the sunset reflecting upon her soft features and in her eyes, he all but breaks. 
“I wish I could see this everyday.” His voice wavers. 
She looks over to him - her lips parted in concern and her smile fading. She wants to say something, the anguish is clear. His hand cups her cheek and her eyes close at the contact. 
“I don’t mean to cause you distress, love. I only mean to say - I envy Sebastian, and everyone else, that’s able to gaze upon you. I would love to do nothing more than to sing you ballads about your beauty.” He strokes her cheek, her eyes remaining close as she places her hand over his to press him closer to her face. 
“You don’t need to serenade me, Ominis.”
“I know.” He smiles. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to.” 
His other hand joins in and he feels over her face - an action he has done several times. But, to see what he’s felt, elates him. It’s almost terrifying how strong the notion is. Her eyes remain close as he traces over her cheeks and down her nose then all the way to her jawline and lips. 
“I hope I’m what you were expecting.” She whispers, her brows knitting together as she slowly opens her eyes.
He smiles as he tucks away the wild hairs framing her face, “More than I could’ve ever imagined.”
The light begins to fade away and they’re soon swathed in a darkness he’s all too familiar with. He’s amazed he’s still able to somewhat see. Hogwarts illuminates in a soft glow and a sense of coziness strikes him. She leans closer to him, resting her hand on his chest.
“Lay with me.” She whispers while she pushes him back towards the ground. 
He lets her push him, falling back onto the cold stone beneath them. He watches her as she tucks herself next to him and she faces up towards the sky. Her eyes shift towards him and she laughs.
“Look up.”
She stares at him as he obeys her command. The sky is no longer a bright blue, but a darker, far richer shade. But what catches his eyes are the shimmering dots which twinkle in various prismatic colors. A gasp leaves him and she giggles.
“Those are the stars. And over there is the moon.” She points in front of them and he follows her finger towards the most breathtaking thing. The moon, once described to him as silver, seems almost unreal as it hovers in the night sky. Its light is cold compared to the sun and he finds himself in awe at its majesty.
“It’s all so beautiful.” He whispers while he hugs her closer to him.
Something shifts within him. He lets out a gasp then looks at his hand. His fingers and knuckles are shifting before his very eyes. 
“No. No, not yet.” He curses. 
She’s about to question what’s wrong when her eyes widen, “Ominis. Your hair. It’s… the potion.” 
He sits up - her doing the same- and he looks around. He doesn’t want this to end, but already the darkness is beginning to cloud his vision. He looks to her, pulling her close to him. He cups both sides of her cheeks and she holds him closer. 
She smiles as she says, “I love you, Ominis.” 
Seeing her lips move, the genuineness in her expression, and the softness in her gaze sends him careening. He stares at her, taking in every little piece of her, while the darkness consumes more and more. 
Then, she’s gone. 
He lets out a shaky breath and a coldness seeps into him. He’s still - unable to move. 
When she presses her forehead to his, he can no longer contain himself. Tears stream down his cheeks and she’s quick to embrace him, holding his head into the crook of her neck as he sobs. She strokes down his back while her other hand soothes his hair. There’s a whirlwind of emotion raging through him and he doesn’t know how to calm himself down. He’s thankful she’s not chastising him for acting this way - so pathetic and broken. Her gentle movements ground him from fully sinking into the numbing coldness which threatens to drag him deeper into an endless abyss. 
She whispers soft words, but he’s so lost he doesn’t understand what she’s saying. All he can notice is how warm she is and how tightly she holds him. Never once letting him go.
The chaos slowly quells and he’s exhausted himself. 
“I’m sorry.” His voice is hoarse and quiet. “I-I should have better control over myself. I-I didn’t anticipate how-, how much I-,” 
“It’s okay, Ominis.” She kisses his temple. “It’s okay.” 
She kisses his tear-stained cheek then the corner of his lips. He’s practically ravenous as he hooks his fingers into her hair to guide her into a searing kiss. A whimper escapes him at the rawness of her lips against his. When she parts, he opens his eyes in hopes he would catch just a faint glimpse of her. 
But no… all he has left is the memory of today. The vibrancy of the world and the breathtaking beauty she possesses. 
He sighs, “There’s a part of me that wishes I could do this everyday.” He pauses, brushing the tip of his nose against hers and tangling his fingers further into her hair. “But, another part is glad to be back in my own skin.”
She lets out a soft hum of agreement, “I very much like you being back. It was quite odd having to hold Sebastian’s hand today.” 
He laughs, “I can imagine.” 
“I do love you, Ominis. All parts of you.” She says. 
His throat tightens, but he’s done shedding tears. He brings her into a much softer kiss this time then he whispers, “I love you, too.” 
The words feel lacking. They aren’t enough to convey the strong feelings he has for her. But, how else could he describe the way she makes him feel. How else could he even come close to explaining that she is so very precious and dear to him. So, he settles with what he can for now.
“We should head back. We’ll have to sneak into the kitchens if we’re to get any sort of dinner tonight.” 
“We should get Sebastian as well. I’m sure he’s dying to leave the confines of the Undercroft by now. Although, maybe it’s good for him to be locked away for a while.” Ominis muses with a slight smirk.
She giggles, “Certainly keeps him out of trouble.” 
They head back to the castle with her practically glued to his side as she explains all the questions he has about the things he saw today. His fingers occasionally twisting the soft fabric of the scarf draped across his neck. He smiles as he knows exactly what color it is.
==================================
It’s not until the next day when the rumors around the school finally reach Sebastian that he corners Ominis just before Charms class. 
“What’s this about ‘me’ flying a bloody Hippogriff over the school yesterday?” 
Ominis can only smirk in response. 
----------------------------------------
AN: Bruh i just can't help myself but add some flying INTO EVERYTHING!! I HAVE A PROBLEM! Like, when I saw the scene of Dany and Jon in GoT doing their dragon flight when i was searching for music, i just knew i had to do it here. LOL i even went flying around the world in game trying to find the best route as well.
You can find the plateau where this takes place below by the Merlin Trail:
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and here's my horrible, low quality, sunset pic via the pic i took of my tv from my phone lollll.
Anyways, I really wanted to capture the thought of Ominis not having a clue what the heck colors are and most def not being able to understand certain more obscure facial expressions (like suspicion). And I really liked the idea of leaving the Fifth Year in the dark about the Polyjuice Potion... idk why. i just thought it was fun LOL.
Hopefully it wasn't too weird about her holding his hand as 'Sebastian' but I was going for the 'yeah she's figured out it's ominis' type vibe. idk hopefully that's conveyed
Thanks again for reading! Feedback always appreciated <3
1K notes · View notes
gentlebeardsbarngrill · 2 months
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01/17/2024 Crew Recap
Well, today was once again a day of new and exciting things happening, and some fun progress on all fronts. Anything I missed -- as always please add. Links to all the threads are in the pictures so please visit them, I want to make sure people who actually posted them are credited :) I realize this is a lot, so if you don't wanna read it all, please at least hop to the bottom for a special message.
===Today's Impact===
Petition Status: We broke 58,000 Signatures! Great job everyone!
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Our Flag Means Death Status on Television Stats -- Numbers went up a bit!
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#SaveOFMD Trending #4 in Hungary, way to go friends!
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Source
Wondering if your calls are working? THEY ARE! Apparently they are cataloging and categorizing calls.
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Warner Bros Discovery Inc is still trending downward!
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Our Flag For Palestine - Care for Gaza Fundraiser is up to $7535!
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The team on this is pretty great about transparency, feel free to check out the twitter thread here
===Cast / Crew Sightings===
Chaos Dad, David Jenkins posted about the 35th Annual Glaad Media Awards Nominating Our Flag Means Death for Outstanding Comedy Series!
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Con O'Neill started posting stories on IG with #SaveOFMD and also he showed up in a Screen Rant Plus interview! Our Flag Means Death Interview: Con O’Neill On Izzy & Blackbeard In Season 2
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And our Pirate Queen Ruibo Qian was reposting save ofmd art on IG!
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=Latest Twitter / Other Platform Insanity=
So apparently someone updated the Our Flag Means Death Wikipedia page to say one of the Production Companies was Astroglide, you cheeky little fuckers.
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Source
Squishables joined the fun with Astroglide.
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Astroglide Announced a Live Reaction Video to OFMD they'll be doing on Friday. Thanks to IG: _Irene_Adler for bringing this to my attention! Somehow I missed it looking at this post this morning.
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===Articles===
1. Could HBO’s Beloved ‘Our Flag Means Death’ Jump To Another Ship After Cancellation?
2. Our Flag Means Death's "numbers weren't there" for renewal says MAX's boss - but it is welcome to sail to another platform
3. OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH CANCELED AT MAX, BUT IT COULD FIND LIFE ON OTHER PLATFORMS
===Ways to Help===
So I found of a new way to keep engagement up that I hadn't heard of before-- I apologize if you all already know about it and I'm repeating it! Daily Clicks to help with Engagement: Clickable Links below:
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Our Flag Means Death Wikipedia Page Google Search for Our Flag Means Death Google UK Search for Our Flag Means Death Our Flag Means Death IMDB
Fundraiser for LimbPower
Looks like another fundraiser going on by our fellow OFMD Crew, right now is by For Our New Unicorn, that benefits LimbPower. This has been going on since December but has had some ramp up since the cancellation announcement. If you're looking for somewhere to donate, seems to be a good cause!
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Calls / Emails / Faxes
I don't believe anything has changed in terms of calls and emails but here's the latest info in case you're just joining us, there's a lovely post over at @renewasacrew's post.
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Postcards / Outside the US Fans
@renewasacrew has the following awesome post about how to send mail from outside the US: Are you outside the US and looking to send Warner Bros. Discovery CEO David Zaslav a letter? 🏴‍☠️
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Petition
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As usual, sharing the petition with posts is super helpful, and @merryfinches has a cool guide on how to get additional email addresses if you want to help send more signatures here
Hashtag Updates from yesterday
#RenewAsACrew #SaveOFMD #TheNumbersWereThere.
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❤️❤️Lastly because even if you are tired of hearing it, I'm going to keep saying it, so suck it up buttercup here comes some love ❤️❤️
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Every single one of you is enough.
If you bust your ass for this campaign, YOU ARE ENOUGH.
If you signed the petition and that was it, YOU ARE ENOUGH
If you lurk and keep an eye on things, YOU ARE ENOUGH.
If you do nothing at all, and just take care of yourself, YOU ARE ENOUGH.
There is NOTHING in this world that you could do to make you not enough.
Remember that.
You are amazing-
and beautiful-
and everything you do every single day is wonderful-
and YOU are worthy of love.
You are doing a great job just being you. Keep doing that.
We are so lucky to have each and every one of you here on this planet with us.
Remember to drink some water, and take care of yourself if you can. Even if it's just a few minutes a day. You got this, and you're loved. 🥰
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Love you crew. Have a good night/day, wherever you are on this little blue dot. <3
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dindjarindiaries · 11 days
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Fight For Me
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summary: When Din starts to get harassed at a cantina, you can’t help jumping in to defend him at all costs.
pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x reader
warnings: angst, strong language, mentions of trauma, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, hurt/comfort, fluff
rating: T
word count: 3.175k
main masterlist • din djarin masterlist
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You tugged on the hood of your poncho to conceal more of your face from view. “We’ve got a lot of eyes on us.”
“I told you.” Din’s modulated voice was low as he took a subtle step closer to your side. “We’re near Mandalorian Space.” You stole a glance over at him just in time to catch the quick tilt of his helmet. “The people out here aren’t fond of my kind.”
“I just…” You paused as the two of you passed another pedestrian, your chin and your gaze lowering until they were out of sight. “I thought you said Akiva was the first planet to pledge their allegiance to the New Republic.”
“They were.” Din’s gloved hand pulled into a fist at his side. You noticed it just as a bead of sweat began to trickle down your temple. “They wanted a change after years of the Empire ordering almost every Mandalorian warrior to do their bidding.”
“I see.” You exhaled and lifted your hand again to brush the sweat away. “It’s hot as hell here.”
Din huffed. “It’s known for its humidity.”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “And yet you let me wear this?” You gestured to the thick poncho that sat over your head and shoulders.
“Staying concealed is a bigger priority than staying cool. We won’t be here for long.” Din nodded towards a building on the right. “Here.”
You read the Aurebesh letters that hung overhead the building’s round entrance: cantina. That was the last place you wanted to be on a world where Din and his kind weren’t welcome, but there wasn’t much of a choice. It was your first, and so far your only, lead on finding the new location of whatever remained of Din’s covert.
Din led the way inside, and as soon as he crossed the threshold, the chatter dimmed. Hushed voices spoke as Din wove the two of you through the tables and other crowds, carrying through the cantina until each voice rose back to its previous volume. You tightened your jaw and remained vigilant. Din may not have been worried about the actions of others, but you sure as hell were.
You stayed at Din’s side as he reached the bar, his gloved hands settling on top of it as he instantly gained the attention of the bartender. The Zabrak man tossed his hand towel on his shoulder and looked at Din expectantly. “What can I get started for you?”
Din reached into the pouch on his belt and set down a handful of credits. “Nothing to drink.” He slid the credits forward. “Just information.”
The bartender gave the pile of credits a cautious glance. “What makes you think I have something worth knowing?”
Din looked left and right before he leaned forward, lowering his voice in a much gruffer way than he would ever do with just you. “Nevarro.”
The bartender did the same gesture as Din before he secured his hand over the pile of credits. “Hold tight.” He pocketed the credits into his apron and nodded. “I’ve got something in the back.”
Din returned the nod, assuming his previous posture as the bartender disappeared into a back room. You crossed your arms and set them upon the top of the bar. Your voice was a hushed whisper as you spoke. “Do you believe him?”
Din shrugged. “We’ll see.” He exhaled, as if attempting to release some of the invisible weight that hung upon his armored shoulders. Your heart ached at the thought of it. “There’s no other option right now.”
“You shouldn’t be here.” A booming voice disrupted any thought you were going to voice in reply to Din. Your head turned as you observed the Klatooinian who stood behind the two of you. Your blood both ran cold and red-hot at the same time as you watched the Klatooinian snarl at Din’s back.
Din’s helmet didn’t move, his visor instead focusing ahead of himself as he tapped his gloved fingers against the bartop. Your gaze slid over to him as you waited for him to speak, but he didn’t.
“You know what your kind did to us—to this entire system.” The Klatooinian scoffed, his guise of amusement failing in favor of his lethal anger. He raised an arm to gesture to the onlookers around them. “I speak for everyone here when I say we would take any chance we could get at killing you ourselves.”
“I don’t think your Republic would take kindly to that.” You couldn’t help yourself from biting out the words. Din’s visor slowly slid towards you, a silent warning you failed to heed.
The Klatooian’s vicious eyes found yours. He then laughed, a grating sound that stung you and made you curl your hands into fists on the bartop. “You’re on the wrong side of the planet if you want New Republic support, dustbreather.”
Din tensed at the insult the Klatooinian threw at you, but he still didn’t speak. Of course he wants to defend me more than himself.
The Klatooinian had since set his attention back on Din. “Your kind was eliminated for a reason.” He took another step closer to Din’s back. Your fists tightened even more, until the leather on your hands groaned in protest. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Your gaze burned through the side of Din’s helmet. His visor faced you as he gave his helmet a small shake, but you were already blinded by your rage. His way was not your way.
“Peel that armor off and what are you?” The Klatooinian scoffed and took one more step closer. “Nothing but a man who should’ve died with the rest of his—.”
You lunged in a movement so quick not even Din could have stopped it as you slammed your fist as hard as you could against the Klatooinian’s jaw. The entire cantina roared as every eye settled on you, especially as you shook out your stinging hand and faced the Klatooinian who was barely still standing. Din had whipped around at your side, but even he was frozen as you sized up the Klatooinian.
“Oh, you bitch!” the Klatooinian seethed as he swung towards you. You skillfully dodged his blow and elbowed his ribs, using the opportunity to hit him with an uppercut. The commotion amongst the onlookers rose more and more as you evaded the Klatooinian’s hits and dealt him more of your own.
It was all a blur of blood, sweat, and hot fury until two arms wrapped around your waist from behind and pulled you tight against a beskar barrier. You fought against the grasp, the hood of your poncho having long since fallen away from your face as you swung towards the Klatooinian who had to be supported by his peers. “Fuck you!” you spat at your opponent. “You haven’t gotten even half of what you deserve!”
You tried to push off of Din to lunge at him again, but Din’s grasp only got tighter as he pulled you back to him. “Easy,” his modulated voice gently warned you.
“That man deserves to be dead!” The Klatooinian points a weary finger in Din’s direction.
You fought Din’s grasp again, pushing even harder against him that time. “I’ll show you who deserves to be—!”
Din forced you against himself so hard that it stole the air from your lungs for a moment. “Easy, cyar’ika.” The lip of his helmet was just beside your ear as he went on. “That’s enough.” He freed one arm from your waist to hold the wrist of your bleeding hand, forcing your arm behind you. “We have to go.”
His words made you snap out of your state of bloodlust as you turned your head around to face his helmet. “But we haven’t gotten your information.”
“Doesn’t matter. Half this cantina wants to fight you, and…” Din paused, his grasp easing on your wrist as he looked down at your hand, “you’re bleeding.” His voice lowered in worry.
“I’m fine.” You faced your opponent with indignance again. “I can take them.”
“No.” The arm Din still had around your waist gave you a gentle yet firm tug away from the growing crowd around the Klatooinian. “We’re leaving.”
Trying to argue with Din about that would be a losing battle, and so you sighed and started to follow him out. Before you could get far, someone whistled from the bar area. Din’s visor locked on something behind you, and when your gaze followed it, you found the bartender nodding at Din before tossing something in the air. Din released you only to catch it. He then returned the Zabrak’s nod and continued on.
“What is it?” Your curiosity got the best of you even as you and Din had to shoulder your way out of the rowdy cantina.
“Coordinates.” Din put your hood back over your head for you and led the way onto the street.
You furrowed your brow and cradled your stinging knuckles. “To where?”
“We’ll find out.” Din was clearly navigating for another specific place as he wove you through the fray. With the adrenaline of your fight still pumping through your veins, it was hard for you to focus, and that was something Din had no doubt picked up on.
Still, there was a more sickly sensation that prickled at you like a thousand icy needles, the chill of it settling inside your chest even amidst the humidity of the planet. You made your concerns known in a voice much quieter than you would have liked. “Are you upset with me?”
You earned no response. Din’s visor continued to look from building-to-building, and he moved at a pace that was getting difficult to keep up with. The needles turned into one sharp blade that sliced through your heart as you ultimately stopped in your tracks.
“You’re upset with me.”
Din stopped just a few paces ahead of you, but in an instant, he had closed the distance between you again. For a moment, his gloved hands cradled your face. “No. Not at all.” His helmet lifted in realization of your surroundings, his hands soon following as they settled on your shoulders instead. “I just… I want to get you somewhere safe.” He shifted his weight between his feet. “Now.”
“Here?” You lifted your brow in surprise. “Didn’t you hear what that guy said?” You shook your head at him. “Anyone here would kill you if they could.”
“But they won’t, because they can’t, and they know it.” Din tilted his helmet at you. “I told you these people aren’t fond of me, not that they’re a threat to me.” He nodded at your bruising hands. “Especially with you here to back me up.”
You began to smile at that. Din gave your shoulders a squeeze and turned away from you to continue on through the town. It wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for, a reliable source of lodging with a business owner who wouldn’t turn down any customer, not even a Mandalorian. He navigated the two of you once more to your own quarters and stepped through the threshold first only to be sure he could observe the room for threats before you followed.
As soon as the door was closed and secured behind you, Din slipped off his helmet and set it aside, his hands reaching for your face once again. This time, Din didn’t have to worry about eyes on you, and so he leaned fully into you and the bliss you two could share by pinning you between himself and the nearest wall and kissing you like his life depended on it.
Your arms wrapped around Din’s neck to keep him close as his mouth slotted over yours time and time again, his tongue lavishing praises onto you without having to speak a single word. You met his familiar rhythm with each movement, a pattern as familiar as your own heartbeat that thudded against your chest. It was a moment where the stinging in your hands faded and the worries of what Din thought dissipated completely.
He was making it clear how he felt about the situation, and you wanted to keep feeling it—at all costs.
Eventually, though, your lungs cried out for air, forcing your mouths to separate even as Din stayed close. His gaze, sparkling with affection even amidst his worry for you, found your own as he forehead rested against yours. His voice was a mere rasp from both its quietness and his lack of breath. “Thank you for defending my honor.” His thumb ran over your lips.
You smiled and kissed the pad of his thumb. “You never have to thank me for that.”
“I know.” Din returned your smile and brushed his lips against yours. “But I will anyway.” He kissed you again, but this time, he kept it brief. His concern no doubt got the best of him as he pulled away and lifted his hands to hold your wrists. He pulled them away from his neck and studied your hands, his smile transforming into a worried grimace. “Let’s take care of this.”
You continued to beam at him. “Sure.”
Din set one hand over your lower back as the other kept its gentle grasp on your wrist. He led you over to the single bed in the room, and you took your place on the edge of it, sitting just beside Din’s helmet. Din disarmed himself of his spear and jetpack before reaching into the pouch of medical supplies on his belt.
“It doesn’t hurt that bad.” You started by taking the leather off your hands, gritting your teeth to keep yourself from groaning at the way it tugged at your angry skin.
Din huffed, raising his brow in amusement as he took the pieces of leather from you and set them aside. “You’re almost as bad at lying as I am.”
You laughed at that, making room for him to sit beside you as he took one of your hands in his and started to work. Din began with your dominant hand, which was more beat-up than your other hand. You spoke to him as he worked, hoping it would ease some of the tension that knit his armored shoulders together. “How would you rate that fight?”
Din paused and looked at you with a wrinkled brow. “What do you mean?”
You offered him a mischievous smile. “I mean, how did I do?”
Din blinked at you for a moment. “How did you do?” He chuckled and shook his head, focusing on your hand again even as he responded. “Cyar’ika, he was barely conscious standing up.”
“So?” You tilted your head at him and smiled sweetly. “What do you rate it, then?”
Din smiled to himself while he traded a tube of bacta for a secure wrap. “There are no words for it.”
“Oh.” You feigned disappointment and looked away from him, your gaze settling on his empty helmet that was still nearby. “How else will you tell me your rating, then?”
Din’s gaze flickered up at you, but only for a moment. “I have ideas.” He lifted your bandaged knuckles to his lips and left a gentle kiss upon them before he exchanged that hand for your other one. “But finishing this is my priority.”
The sweet warmth of overwhelming affection and desire burned throughout your chest,and you gave yourself a few moments to recover from its powerful effects. Once you had waited long enough, you spoke in a softer voice. “Why didn’t you say anything?” When Din’s brow lifted in confusion, you elaborated. “To that guy at the cantina.”
Din sighed, his jaw tightening before he loosened it again. “You know me. I’m… not a man of many words.” He exchanged the bacta for another clean wrap. “I’ve always found that actions speak louder than words, anyway.” Din gave you an amused look. “You just beat me to it.”
You smiled to yourself. “I guess that’s what makes us a good match.”
“It’s one of many things.” Din paused to focus as he circled the wrap around your hand. “The way you can throw punches is…” Din had to stop again, but this time, his gaze raised to the ceiling as if he was summoning composure from some unknown source. You chuckled at him as he exhaled a soft breath and looked at your hand again. “It’s an advantage.”
You teased him by looking at him through your lashes, blinking them slowly as he finished with your hand and allowed his gaze to meet yours. “Yeah?”
Din lifted his hand towards his lips without breaking your shared gaze. “Yeah.” He kissed your bandaged knuckles and lowered your hand. His eyes studied it as he nodded in sudden severity. “Truly, cyar’ika, what you did… it means a lot.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ve never had someone fight for me like that. No one except…” He trailed off. He didn’t have to say the name.
You raised the bandaged hand he wasn’t holding to caress the side of his face. Din’s gaze met yours again, and the deep admiration within it was breathtaking—but so was the deep longing hidden behind it. When you spoke, your voice was quiet yet meaningful. “I miss him, too.”
Din closed his eyes and nodded. After a long pause, he reopened his eyes and tasked himself with putting his medical supplies back in his belt. He exchanged them for the coordinates the bartender had given him. “Knowing the covert, this probably leads to the system they’re hiding in.” Din returned to business and you met him there, nodding at him to agree with his words. “It’ll take some more work to find out exactly where they are.”
“That’s fine.” You set a hand on his cuisse as you smiled in reassurance. “I’m with you every step of the way.”
Din’s gaze drifted from your hand on his armored thigh to your own eyes as he returned your smile. “I know.” He put the coordinates back in his belt and let his expression morph into something more mischievous as he faced you again. “So.” He cleared his throat, and you giggled at his clumsiness. He was smoother than you could have ever expected at some times, but this wasn’t one of them. “About that rating.”
You laughed, lifting your bandaged hands to the sides of his face to bring him closer to you. “You can just kiss me.”
Din chuckled with you until his amused breath became your own, one action that led to a long string of others proving exactly how grateful and proud he was of your actions that day.
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main masterlist • din djarin masterlist
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messiahzzz · 2 months
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Grooming also doesn't have to involve sex. So even if people think his relationship with Mystra was appropriate, you still can't deny he wasn't groomed to be great. The guy caught Elminster's attention at eight years old ffs. There's no way around it.
that’s the thing. it doesn’t matter at what exact point their relationship became sexual, it doesn’t matter whether gale was of age at this point in time or not. grooming is a process, it’s pure manipulation that sets the groundwork to ensure that this person will be fully accessible (in whatever way the abuser desires, usually sexual) at a later point. children can be groomed, teenagers can be groomed and adults can be groomed as well - age is no factor in this regard. children are merely common victims due to being more impressionable. it’s essentially about creating a power imbalance that the abuser exploits for their own gratification.
the discussion about where to fit gale’s relationship with mystra in terms of her death & the overall timeline (while fun to theorize over) is redundant imo, since larian has been known to play pretty loose with the lore themselves. there are already so many inconsistencies.
so, the information we have regarding mystra’s relationship with gale are these snippets:
mystra first functioned as his mentor, then his muse, and later his lover.
gale’s relationship with her was indeed of a sexual nature, he has explicitly stated so several times.
elminster sought him out when he was but 8 years old, as stated in the epilogue letter.
during the ending where gale fails to ascend raphael states during the credits that tav has “rekindled gale’s ambitions after mystra had so cleverly put them to rest”
if you do want to consider d&d lore, it also tells us that mystra possesses a degree of foresight. (my friend @galedekarios already wrote a very thorough meta on the general subject.)
elminster’s letter pretty much confirms any suspicions we might have had earlier. after all, what reason is there for elminster, one of mystra’s chosen, to seek out gale specifically? how was he aware of gale in the first place? what personal incentive could he possibly have that isn’t tied to mystra in some way? why gale specifically when there are likely many young wizards with a potential for greatness that he could take under his wing? claiming that “it wasn’t mystra who sought him out, but elminster” feels like a rather naive and shortsighted read on the situation imo. we know that mystra was gale’s mentor and that she eventually made him her chosen. it isn’t hard to connect the dots.
summed up: we do know that mystra had her sight set on gale when he was an 8-year-old boy, possibly even earlier than that. the intention was already there and we know that their relationship underwent the transitions of teacher, muse, and then lover.
gale has been inevitably shaped by her grooming (just like any victim) to be devoted, to be compliant, to be loyal, to not question. many of his behaviors and beliefs are a direct result of said manipulation and abuse. gale himself is only starting to comprehend the possibility that he might actually be a victim once the tadpole crew comes into his life. and, like i said in my previous post, has barely scratched the surface of the damage that was done.
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fadingsnow · 8 months
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IF OUR LOVE DIED, WOULD THAT BE THE WORST THING? - AEMOND TARGARYEN x f! reader
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SUMMARY AND TW: Aemond had refused to tell you of what he was doing in Harrenhal, weeks from weeks there supposedly under Aegon's decree, except you finally find out of Alys. Mention of children (a son named Aerys), ANGST, child-birth, infidelity, reader is Rhaenyra's daughter (Lucerys did not die, but the war Divider Credits: @firefly-graphics
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The callouses of your hands had started to crack, and hurt when you tried to stretch your fingers, looking at the walls of your shared chambers for hours and hours. Alys. Alys was her name, a bastard's name. You could hardly contain the bitter laugh that escaped your mouth, a Strong bastard. How many times had your family been shamed for just the love shared between Harwin Strong and Rhaenyra Targaryen? Had she been a man, there would be no stares, words, and curses. It was quite ironic, Aemond had joined in the rumours, belittling your blood. Now he fucked those he had murdered. An old man on his knees, begging for mercy for his family, your husband was relentless. How cruel could this man be? Was all you were to him an accessory? You were not his sword he could keep at his side to swing at in any moment.
You could not admit in fear of exile from the crown, but you were of Strong blood. To not only be acknowledged of the horrid act your husband had committed to those he know were your relatives. It was as though your own blood was spilled across the plains and hills of the Earth, as though satiating himself, as though he is your saviour, the earth who has granted life and dares to take it when it is the end of each mortal's lifespan. He is no divine being, he cannot take what he wishes whenever he wants. How many times had you confined to the wishes of a small-minded man who believes he is calculated, the reason why there are followers at the sept? Otto, Aegon, even Viserys.
A letter from your mother had reached you a few hours earlier, at the time that the shadows walk across the halls. You could still remember it all clearly, the memory burned into your mind just as he had burned innocents with the fire of his dragon, Vhagar. You could scarcely believe it, you never knew Aemond to lie. Your tongue was held by your heart, when you read the pitiful words the queen had sent to you. Of his escapades with his whore, the queen of witches, the queen of his heart as you were once. It couldn't be true, could it?
Silence filled the chambers, echoes from guards instinctively moving, foots shuffling in their state of unconciousness. Oh, how you wished for a release from this life, this emotional torture. The words ringed in your ears, "He constantly showers her in his love, they are even to have a child in 8 moons." So, for 1 moon, he had not even informed you yet, of his bastard Strong lover, he had not even told you of his child. An unborn child, just like you had, were your sacrifices not enough for him?
Had he not been your saviour? Had he not held your hand as you screamed to the skies above, almost praying to the Seven for once for help from the tearing that concurred in your body, being prodded and poked by those who wish to see a Targaryen heir. The blood, cuts, and pain were not enough? You could remember the sweat glistening within your features, your eyes drooping from your weariness. Almost falling down to wherever Valyrians went to when they finally met with Death, seeking out those who have left this forsaken Earth before them. He had told you his words of love, telling you no matter what happened, he'd always stay loyal to you. Loyal. All those dinners under the pretense of one huge family, how come you hadn't notice the stares from every single one present in that damned room?
You pondered on and on till the sight of the sun coming out, rivaling the night. You're sure of how he had sighed when he realized he had to leave his bed-ridden whore, did he comfort her as he did you during your own time with your son? The same looks, nose, eyes.. Will her child be the same? Will he love that child more than your own?
It was normal you suppose, the flapping of Vhagar's enormous wings, creating a small earthquake. There was always talks of how fearful Vhagar could be, and her rider. Maybe, you should've listened more, maybe, then none of this would've happened.
You didn't move. Not a single finger, not a limb, it was barbaric, his actions. Your son, Aerys, had always looked up to him, mimicking his father's looks. The carbon copy of him and Harwin, you lightened in joy when you had been welcomed to him after hours of suffering. From your first hold, Aerys had become so attached to Aemond, he'd listen to commands from his father like a small soldier in his army. A small grin would appear on Aemond's usually grim face. If he is already like his father, listens to him, you would want him to change now. How could such a revered figure in both of your lives change in such a little time? For a woman almost twice his age? Maybe, he would even dare to claim she had bewitched him. You'd doubt it, perhaps it isn't safe for your family, it never was. Just held against your will, although the Hightowers had never explicity announced it, but you knew it to be true. If only you ran away to Dragonstone fast enough, to be greeted with your brothers, mother, and Daemon, who you considered to be your father.
The curls of your brothers bouncing, laughter, and harmony of a complete and stable family would be your wish in this Hightower home, no longer the height of a Targaryen power, for as long as you could care, no matter how Aegon carries the Targaryen name, his council is led by the half of his blood, Hightower. Cunning, manipulative, scheming-
A knock hit the door once, you already knew who it was. Aemond wasn't much for a grand entrance. All that could fill your mind was what he'd do with her, that Alys woman. When you let out no answer, there was a small creek let out from the door being opened. The sight of you staring at the wall, not giving him a glance that he does not even deserve, moved him to stand next to the bed.
"What has happened, my wife?" His voice was calm, a little inquistive at your current state, but peaceful.
Peaceful? Peaceful, when you have been wailing mentally in your misery, screaming in echoes of your regret of a life you never had, as his wife. Always committed to the life set before you, working hard to keep him pleased.
"I know what you did, Aemond. No, not what you did, what you do. Who you currently pursue, who carries your second child, who should've been me, who was once me." Your words came out in one breath, the words fluidly moving in a rhythm of regret and grief of a marriage that once had ballads, and poems of the great love shared between you two.
He stayed quiet for a few moments, to think over on how to explain his actions to his wife. His infidelity, his lies, his scheming. "What do you speak of, wife?"
Wife? No, dear wife now? Maybe, that's what you were to him all along, something he has placed in a memory, flashes of white and red robes, words in High Valyrian of devotion, not the common tongue his Alys speaks, when she seduces him to a fate of leaving you.
"You know. Alys, your whore? What? Don't look shocked, I know you've probably had your cock deep in her every single night you've been away. As I tend our son, you tend to her unborn one. Even then, it's alarming how everyone is sure that she is carrying your child, just how long have you been together? Lying with each other in the nights that the moon decides to grace us with her night, and the moonlight?"
"You don't understand, I believe I have fell in love with her, but that does not mean I have less love for you or Aerys." His voice slightly broke at the sound of your son's name, the syllables failing to even leave his mouth correctly.
"So, you are telling me, after you have already spent monthes within her company, spilled your seed deep inside of her, to the point where a baby will be produced of her blood and yours?" You scoffed at his audacity, he didn't even apologize? You had to learn from your mother of his affair, not even from the man himself.
"No. I-" He groaned in frustration, not knowing how to handle such dejection, always the favored child.
"You do not understand."
"It appears I absolutely fucking do not! So please, my prince, fucking enlighten me."
"She was.. She was different, alright? And, I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about everything. She is true to me, she has never lied to me. I regret on the turn of events which led to this."
"I never have been. Has she done all that I have for you, as your wife? Have I not stayed by your side, as your soldiers viciously tore apart my mother's allies? Children? The old? The rich? Blood has been wasted for a war of your foolish brother's want for a throne that will never accept him, yet here have I stayed, while you do as you want." You spat at his boots, you could hardly believe what he has done.
"I deserve all of your rage, you may strike me as I have striked those who have not striked me. But, please, still accept my love." He pleaded you, with eyes that once melted your heart.
"You say I do not understand, but you do not, Aemond. How can I lay in bed with you, our legs entangled, confessions in the warmth of the fire, if you have done all of that with your witch? How can I ever think to kiss those lips with the vigor I once had, just to be aware of how Alys has kissed then? You were once mine, now your very being is stained." You couldn't hold the sobs that were stuck in your throat until that very moment, the realization of what was happening.
You wrapped your arms around your knees, trying to rock yourself from your impending doom. You were no Velaryon, you could not survive a thousand of the Doom's tribulations as Vaemond had said, when he had called you and your siblings bastards.
Aemond hesistantly walked up to you, placing his hand on your back, rubbing it soothingly.
"Shh. Shh, don't cry, my love. You are my first love, and my last."
"How can I be, when she is your present?" You let out chokes of words, the feelings enlodged in your heart, and mind. Aemond's silk-like hair wrapping around your back like a cloak, as his arms enclose around your frightened figure.
"You always will be there, no matter if she is as well."
At his continued words of resistance to his end of his arrangement of Alys, you tried to hold your hand over your mouth to stop the incoming river of wallow. Disappointingly, you still laid your head on his chest, refusing to let go of him. He was your husband still, not hers. He never will be hers, only yours. You soon stopped, trying to focus on the moment, Aemond was here with you, not her. That must mean something, right? You'll always be his beloved.
To both of your surprise, you pressed a soft kiss to Aemond's forehead, something you always do before you sleep. You did it as a gesture of your subconscious, you always did like taking care of him.
Aemond was an easy sleeper, a set of arms around him, a bed, and a small gesture of affection, and he's asleep immediately. Aemond's arms took to wrapping around you tighter, not allowing you to escape from his embrace or his prescence. His sounds of small sighs, as he breathed in your hair, notioned to you that he was soon to sleep.
When he was almost at his point of sleep, you manuevered out of his arms a little bit, causing him to groan. You got closer to his ear and murmured, "Remember, just because it seems I forgive you for what unspeakable acts you have done with your whore, that doesn't mean it will not receive retribution. Your witch? Oh, she'll be dealt with." You pressed a long, and soft kiss to his lips, you missed them, and you even let out a small sigh of pleasure to finally taste your husband's lips again. His eyes widened in horror at your last words, before he fell asleep, to a domain of nightmares where he is constantly taken away from his Alys.
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May I request more baji hcs? Like all the hcs you have?
(I love your take on him ajd I wanna hear your thoughts)
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The people have spoken and it's now Baji's turn so here we are!
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Baji gets extremely excited for zoo visits, as a kid he actually used to frequently get lost at zoo trips since he'd run off to look at all the animals faster then his mum/ class. 
Likes splashing in puddles (especially if it means he can splash Chifuyu or Ryusei).
Whenever he sees Luna and Mana they beg to braid his hair (he secretly likes it being played with)
Actually likes talking while watching movies, he likes having someone to theorise with and discuss the plot with.
He can't take any credit for his hair care cause his mother taught him everything he knows.
As a kid he would constantly invite Kazutora round for dinner because he didn't like the idea of him being home alone/ with his parents.
Actually doesn't understand the fuss over dating at all (not until he meets a certain someone and falls in love at first sight).
Can make a really great paper airplane (used to aim them at Mikey's hair) 
Will show affection through biting 
Is super handy with tools, always fixing things his mother tells him to (she taught him everything he knows).
Shinichiro used to ruffle his hair a lot as a kid, he always loved that feeling (Shinichiro's the only one allowed to do this though)
His school sports coaches are constantly trying to recruit him for baseball club (i mean tbf he does have great aim).
Used to have his own piercings but his mum made him take them out (that's why he knows what he's doing with Kazutora's).
Is really great at climbing trees (he wanted to beat Mikey so badly at climbing that he started practising non stop.)
Has accidentally broken his phone at least 6 times
Has named every single stray cat that comes into his room. 
Got so angry when Senju attacked him while training Emma (he immediately pushed Emma behind him to try and protect her) but that anger immediately vanished when he realised who attacked him and why. 
Has teased Mikey before by saying Emma likes him as a martial arts partner more.
Has a lucky hair tie for fights 
Is very protective as a partner, will constantly check your wellbeing and safety.
Is also on bug duty, there's a big spider in the house? It's his job to take it outside. 
Is a bit of a baby when it comes to taking medicines, doesn't like the way they taste and refuses to take them. 
Went to visit Sanzu in the hospital after the incident, he brought him magazines to try and cheer him up. 
Feeds the local wildlife as well as cats, he has a few trees where he hangs birdfeeders etc
His mother always makes a big effort for his birthdays so he's learnt to make a big effort for everyone elses. Though he always puts in the most effort for her.
Has been late to meetings because he was distracted by a cat before
Baji kept every letter Kazutora sent him
As a partner he's very good at reading your moods and adapting to them. Your sad? Then he'll cheer you up. Stressed? He'll help you relax. Angry? Then he'll take you out somewhere to let that frustration out.
Watered a fake plant for two years without realising it wasn't real once.
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lettersofcredit · 2 years
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hansensgirl · 3 months
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summary. | Your professor knows just how to get his star student to eat out of his hand.
prompts. | Andy Barber + Professor + “You want something from me? You gotta ask nicely.” (credits to @celestianstars for inspiring this prompt) + Abuse of power, requested by Anonymous.
pairing. | dark!professor!Andy Barber x fem!reader.
warnings. | NON/DUBCON, abuse of power, power imbalance, professor/student relationship, male oral (mentioned/alluded to), overachiever reader, kind of mean!andy, lying, deceit, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics
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You stare down at the paper you spent many sleepless nights working on with tears in your eyes. The letters turn into grey blurs. 
You always knew Professor Barber was a hard-ass, but you never thought you’d bear the brunt of his harsh grading. You felt you were getting by well this semester, never bothering him with questions unless absolutely necessary. He hated his job—everyone knew that from his heavy sighs and grimaces. And now, you feel like he’s taking it out on you, even though you’re just a part of the sea of faces that’ll forget about him once exams are over.
You sit on the bench outside his office, early for your appointment with him. You scheduled it in a frenzy, and he replied just as quickly as when you hit ‘send.’ That didn’t puzzle you since you had woken up very early that morning, and you know that professors sleep odd hours.
He must be less than excited to meet with you. Every faculty member seems to be a burning thread, fraying at the ends.
The door opens, and Professor Barber clears his voice, snapping you out of your stupor. You look up at him with glassy eyes, and he nods his head, allowing you to enter his office.
You catch a whiff of his cologne as you walk past the older man. There’s even a hint of coffee, perhaps from a spill. 
“Good evening, Professor Barber,” you start, a thoroughly rehearsed speech on the tip of your tongue. You’re a perfectionist when it comes to your grades—the only thing that gives you purpose at this point. “Good evening…?” he returns, waiting for you to give him your name.
You do exactly that, and he repeats it. “Please, call me Andy,” he insists, so you do. 
“You wanted to talk about your paper?” he asks, shutting the door behind him. You swear you can hear the lock click, but you doubt Andy would do that. “Yes. I just… I worked so hard on it and thought I did good…” you trail off, unable to finish your sentence.
You can’t fail this class—you don’t need another flaw to worry about. You doubt you’d get a spot in next year, anyway. Not until the weak ones give up halfway through the semester.
“You want to know why I gave you that mark?” Andy asks, hands clasped with his elbows resting on the chair. You nod your head. “Well, it’s alright, really. Not what I was looking for at all. It’s weak in too many spots. I can see right through your points,” he explains as though it were obvious.
The criticism stings, but you take it. 
“C– Can I rewrite it? Please?” you plead, finally looking up at him. “Or I can do an extra?” you offer, but the click of his tongue makes you want to cry again.
“I don’t give out second chances. You know that, don’t you? You’re a smart girl,” Andy says before sighing. “I suppose I could let you try again, though. You’ll do better, right?” he asks, standing up again.
He seems restless—you are, too. Your leg bounces from nervousness. 
“Of course—thank you, Professor,” you smile, ready for his next instructions. You’ll take anything he gives you if that upsetting grade is forever erased. He smiles down at you, a sight you’ve never seen before. 
Suddenly, though, you hear the clinking of a belt. You snap your head to look at where the sound came from, greeted by his crotch right in your face. Andy stands to your right, and dread fills you. “You want me to fix your grade, yeah?” the professor asks, but you don’t answer. You’re too scared.
You can’t fight him, can’t escape. If you did, who would you tell? You have a higher chance of getting in trouble than him. 
Andy cups your cheek with his left hand as he pulls down his fly with the other, freeing his thick cock from the confines of his boxers. He’s so hard that he’s a flushed red colour, with veins and a leaky tip. 
“You want something from me? You gotta ask nicely,” he tells you, voice as rough as when he speaks to the delinquents of your class. You watch him with tears in your eyes and accede, mouth opening for your professor to use you.
“See? I always knew you were a smart girl. You just needed a little push.” 
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theemporium · 9 months
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Hya! Dunno if you’re comfortable with it but can I request professor! Remus Lupin x college student! fem reader? like a super smutty smut where they both want each other badly but have to pretend they don’t and then they fuck
also, can I be 🍰 anon?
of course you can be, baby, the 🍰 is yours! and thank you for requesting!🖤
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Everyone had their crushes. 
It wasn’t wrong to have feelings for someone, especially if you never acted on them. It was just a simple admiration of the person. From the way they looked to the way they acted to the way they spoke, it was just a simple admiration that made your stomach feel like it was bursting with butterflies and nothing more.
It just so happened that your crush was your professor of a class you didn’t even want to take. 
You needed to fill out your credit requirement for the term and you were grasping at straws when you realised your choices lied between a class with your old friend group, a class with your shitty ex-boyfriend and a class you couldn’t care less about. 
So obviously you chose the third one. 
However, what you weren’t expecting was a handsome man to walk through the door, briefcase in hand and blazer thrown over his other arm, and announce himself as your professor for the term. He didn’t look much older than you, maybe only five years at most if you were guessing (you would later realise it was a bit more than that). But all it took was one glance from the man and you were a flustered mess. 
It didn’t help that his class was difficult and you spent the few moments where you weren’t admiring Remus Lupin, being absolutely fucking confused. 
Your confusion led to many nights like such, huddled in the depths of the library at a late, ungodly hour. You were tucked away near the back, piles of books around you and not a single other human in sight.
You stared at the pages in front of you, the letters and numbers were starting to blur together and you weren’t any closer to figuring the assignment out. At least not tonight, but you were far too stubborn to give up. 
“If you stare any harder, you might set the textbook on fire.” 
You almost jumped out of your seat, your knee knocking against the table as you spun around to find Professor Lupin leaning against the bookshelves, looking at you with a mixed expression of curiosity and amusement. 
“Professor Lupin,” you murmured and cleared your throat, almost painfully aware of the messy state you were in. “What are you doing here?” 
“Is a library not open to everyone?” he asked, his brows raised.
Your cheeks heated up. “Well, yes—”
“Maybe I should be asking you what you are doing here,” Remus continued as he took a few steps towards the table you were sitting at. “It’s a Saturday night. Surely a young student like you has more interesting things to do than spend her time in the library.”
“I wanted a headstart on the assignment,” you mumbled out, almost embarrassed. 
Remus paused beside your chair and you were almost too aware of his presence. He glanced over your shoulder, reading over the textbook page and then the notes you had scribbled down, though most of it was incoherent. 
“You never told me you were struggling with the content,” he said, his brows furrowed together like the mere fact annoyed him.
“I…uh, I didn’t wanna bother you,” you admitedd, though you realised how stupid your excuse was before he even gave you a pointed look.
“I want to help my students,” Remus said, looking down at you with such intensity in his eyes that it made you squirm in your seat. “I don’t like seeing you struggle.” 
“Right,” you breathed out, blinking slowly. 
Neither one of you broke away from the eye contact, just staying locked in that moment. And then just when you thought he was going to look away—to turn away—his gaze dropped down to your slightly parted lips.
“Tell me you don’t feel it,” he whispered, his voice a little huskier now.
Your brows scrunched together. “What?” 
“Tell me you don’t feel whatever this is,” he said again, a little more determined this time. “Tell me you don’t feel it and I’ll walk away. I’ll leave you alone and stop convincing myself that maybe there is something.” 
You waited a beat, watching the way his shoulders tensed as he impatiently awaited your answer.
“I could say I don’t feel it,” you whispered and you could have sworn something in his expression broke. “But I would be lying.” 
Remus looked at you, he really fucking looked at you. There were a million different voices in his head screaming for him to just walk away. To just tell you his office hours and tell you to pop in if you had any questions about the course. He should just turn on his heel and walk out of the library before he did something he regretted. 
But what was one more regret in his life?
“Fuck it,” he grumbled under his breath as he took your face in his hands and kissed you.
It was fast-paced, messy and passionate but you wanted nothing more. You didn’t even realise he swiped your belongings off the table until his hands were gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you onto the table and standing between your legs.
“This is wrong,” he murmured against your lips, trailing down the expanse of your neck.
“I know,” you breathed out, your head falling back as his teeth light scraped against your skin.
“Tell me to stop,” he groaned as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. 
“Fuck me, sir,” you whined, your glossy eyes meeting his darkened gaze and whatever self-restraint he had quickly disappeared.
“Shit, baby,” Remus moaned as his fingers worked fast, pushing the fabric of your skirt until it pooled at your waist. His fingers tugged your panties down, pocketing them before his hands softly squeezed your inner thighs.
“Touch me, please,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his before your fingers tangled themselves into his messy brown hair and pulled him into a kiss. 
“Gotta stay quiet for me, darling,” he warned you, still acutely aware of the other people loitering around the library at this time. You both could get caught and get into so much trouble. He could lose his job and you could lose your place at the university, but neither one of you seemed to care all that much as your fingers nimbly undid the button of his trousers and slipped past the waistband to cup his cock. 
“Fuck,” you murmured, almost a little dazed like you hadn’t mean to speak aloud. “You’re big.” 
The smirk on his face was smug. “You can take it,” he told you, his hand cupping your face as your eyes met his once again. “Gonna take it like a good girl, aren’t you?” 
You nodded dumbly. 
“Atta girl,” he groaned before he pushed his trousers down to his knees, his boxers quickly following as he fisted his hard cock, giving himself a few strokes before he stepped further before your legs. 
You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping them locked around him as he slowly slid inside you. Your nails dug into the fabric of his shirt, a pathetic whimper leaving your lips as he bottomed out inside you. 
“Sir,” you gasped out as he slid out before his hips roughly thrusted back into you. 
“Shh, baby, you can take it,” his whispered praises washed over you, settling a warmth in the pit of your stomach. “You’re doing so well for me.” 
His lips were on yours again when your moans and whimpers became too loud and he feared somebody would hear you. His hands gripped your waist, your body jolting with every thrust as your nails clawed at any inch of him you could get your hands on. Your walls squeezed around him, tight and warm and so fucking welcoming that he never wanted to leave. 
And he couldn’t bring himself to do so even after you finally came, following himself seconds later as you both stayed there, propped on the edge of the table with Remus still deep inside you. 
“Sir—”
“Remus,” he corrected as he pressed a bruising kiss to your lips. “Call me Remus when I’m inside you, baby.”
.
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