somewhere else

a/n: i need you guys to walk with me here...

cw: modern au, mdni, 18+, f!reader, substance abuse (alcohol), hallucinations, mental health problems, obsession, darkish daeron

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๑ he is certainly mad, the town folk liked to say, utterly insane. they called him the dreamer and told their kids haunting stories about the lighthouse keeper, who moved to the coast, trying to run away from the visions

๑ some say he is from a wealthy family sent here as punishment, some say he is a fisherman's son, dutifully doing his job, some say he is a hopeless alcoholic, some say he is a real seer, connected to the old spirits

๑ no one knows enough, so every statement is just a speculation. the town sits around a harbor. a few miles away, on a rocky cliff that juts into the sea, stands the lighthouse. the lightkeeper lives in a cottage beside it. that was everything people had, which only fed the whispers of the supernatural

๑ what was certain is that he is a recluse. everyone in town knows that daeron doesn't need or want any sort of company besides his black newfoundland that barked and snarled at the mere sight of another human approaching

๑ the visions, the voices, the dreams have never left him, even here in this godforsaken place, they were torturing him, stealing any hope of peace. many mornings, he found himself lying in the sand, wet and shivering, even though he was sure to close his eyes in his bed before falling asleep

๑ though sleep was a generous word for the scraps of unconsciousness he was able to get. his days were cold, draped in a thick fog of agonising dread, while nights were hot, full of distant fire and pain, he never fully witnessed but felt deeply

๑ sometimes it was more than just dreams, sometimes nightmares leaked into daylight as voices calling his name somewhere far away, sometimes they came as visions, twisting his sanity into something barely recognisable

๑ daeron drank more at such days. much more. alcohol never fully helped, only dulling the gnawing never ending terror that lived in his mind, poisoning everything that was unfortunate enough to appear in his pathetic life. he could go days without showering, barely eating a thing, drowning all his feelings in brandy

๑ his days were repetitive and simple, barely differing at all. sometimes he felt like he was living one never ending day. not that it really matter. daeron treated his job seriously, because it was the only thing in his life he could keep under some sort of control. so he checked the weather, repaired railings, walked the cliffs with his dog, lighted the beacon and drank

๑ still it was better than in the city. it made sense, for him being here. even though, mostly because here he had you. his salvation. his ethereal curse. his safe place. his siren. the first time daeron saw you he was convinced you are one of his hallucinations, soaked wet from the rain, banging on his door

๑ once you appeared in his life, many things started to make sense. the only thing that didn’t make sense was how you found him and why you stayed. daeron didn’t dare to ask. he was simply grateful, no, more than that. he was in utter disbelief, praying to whatever gods he believed in for you not to vanish, not to be a trick of his ill mind

๑ you were always leaving in the morning and coming back in the evening, and it was the first time in his life that he had caught himself eagerly waiting for the day to end, just to see you again. no liquid could ever sedate him like your scent could. nothing ever could bring him the peace he felt when you were holding him close

๑ sometimes he woke you up in the middle of the night, babbling nonsense and drenched in sweat, calling your name and begging you to stay, not calming down until you pressed your lips against his, shushing his feverish mumbling with your tongue

๑ on good days, when the dread somewhat feels bearable, he is completely different: attentive, sweet, happy. daeron is so touch starved. ideally, he would keep you in his bed forever, spending hours between your thighs, listening to your moans and whimpers

๑ daeron is deeply affectionate. holds your hand constantly, lays his head in your lap, and nuzzles your neck, feeding you breakfast, pulling you into his lap whenever he can. boring days suddenly evolved into your personal version of heaven. he smells of sweat, salt, and the lingering sweetness of liquor, mixed with something uniquely him. something that you associate with happiness

๑ daeron is all raw emotions and insatiable desire. he is a deeply obsessive man, and he is starved. derranged and filthy, gross and perverted. in his eyes, you are still unreal, something ethereal, overworldly that he has a chance to put his greedy hands on.

๑ daeron doesn't just adore you, doesn't just worship you, he devours. devours the same way he empties the endless bottles of alcohol he drinks you in, fucking, kissing, sucking, licking until you physically can't take it anymore

๑ you are his magic pill to everything. his treat, his painkiller, his favourite meal that he can never get enough of. the more you spend time with him, the more daeron hates it when you leave, fueled by the fear of you never returning, vanishing, dissolving in the sand like another dream

๑ to him it's not just sex. it's a ritual. an overworldly way of showing his devotion, of letting go of his ache, at least for a few hours. it is a soul merging bonding that makes the horrors feel survivable and the life worth living

๑ sometimes he fucks you slow and tender, guiding your hips down on his throbbing length as hard rain drums against the windows. sometimes he is fucking you hard and fast, pressing you against the slick stone wall of the lighthouse, biting your lips until your saliva is filled with the coppery taste of blood. sometimes he is making you sit in his lap near the fireplace, toying with you, his fingers teasing the dampness between your thighs with agonizing slowness, pretending not to hear your pleading and begging. sometimes he is eating you out with your back against the hard shore cliff, hiking your leg up his shoulder, taking his time, savouring the moment of complete power he has over your pleasure

๑ he is certainly mad, the town folk liked to say. and perhaps he was. but it doesn't really matter when you are the one driving him mad, does it?

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the way you enabled me, anon…

lighthouse keeper!daeron

cw: mdni, 18+, modern au, f!reader, alcoholism, hallucinations, descriptions of wounds, reckless behaviour, bit unhealthy relationship, darkish daeron, reader is really into him btw

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lighthousekeeper!daeron lives a very simple life. there are not many things he needs, besides his house to be warm, his dog to be fed, and his cupboards filled with alcohol. the seaside life has pros and cons. the air is always cool, salty, and damp, the wooden parts of his cottage have a tendency to rot, and the metal parts to rust. the weather is always foggy, so there is barely any sun, and nothing ever dries out properly. his house is rather cozy, though, dark, some wood say. daeron doesn't really care about maintaining it properly, so it is livable, but nothing more. he really starts cleaning and unhoarding, knowing that now you are in this space as well, and he really wants you to feel good there, homey.

lighthousekeeper!daeron is not a pretty sight most of the time. hair dirty, eyes glassy, forehead covered in sweat. his hands are always bandaged because he often cuts himself while working, bandages are no longer white, just grey with caked blood underneath. daeron's appearance or hygiene is not his first priority. his hair is longer, messy. he is rarely fully shaven, with golden stubble reinforcing the unkept look. his 'uniform' is usually thick wool sweaters over henleys, cargo trousers and work boots. colours that you can’t help see him wearing the most are navy, gray, brown, charcoal, beige.

lighthousekeeper!daeron is relieved and troubled at the same time, knowing you have already seen him at his worst and stayed. he is overfilled with gratitude and quiet, confused love. every time you slide into his lap, or stroke his cheek, or kiss him, there is this boyish awe in his eyes.

lighthousekeeper!daeron is not just tortured, depressed, and pathetic. no, he is also playful, sarcastic, and affectionate. he makes you giggle with his witty comments, makes you swat his arm when he whispers something filthy, and makes you smile at his compliments. daeron will wake up earlier and make you coffee just the way you like it, will make sure you are warm and comfortable, even if that means giving you his extra blanket, will attempt his best at looking presentable, and go to the local pub with you because you mentioned it as one of your favourite places.

lighthousekeeper!daeron can be rough. as if something gets into him. it is always visible. you swear sometimes his eyes change, you can see it in the way he is looking at you. you never know if it will be your daeron or... a different one. you always notice him, the other, it slips in the way he talks with you, in a way he touches you, in a way he is watching you, tracking your every movement like a beast ready to pounce. nothing but fogged hunger in his eyes, pupils blown wide in the darkness, you feel all the 'lightness' drained from him the second he looks up at you with the sweetest smile of a predator.

it is especially showing in how he fucks you. it is a wide range with him. in the morning he will worship your body, licking and kissing you all over, making out with your pussy for hours. and in the evening he will bend you over the kitchen table, biting your neck till there is blood, pounding into you and making you whine from pleasure. daeron loves that, no one can hear you there anyway.

lighthousekeeper!daeron is undeniably nice to you, but that doesn’t mean he is necessarily… good. years of torments he was forced to endure, mixed with isolation and loneliness, made him desperate, starved, insatiable. he becomes fixated on one thing - you. is it unhealthy? perhaps. but at this point, there is nothing healthy about him anyway. he never hurts you, of course, no, it is something else. maybe the silent understanding that if you try to leave him, he will stop you. gently. or...

lighthousekeeper!daeron dreamed of you for months before you appeared in his life. saw tons of dreams when you were calling his name, luring him on the cliffs and into the sea. many nights, he watched your silhouette wandering the coast, eyes fixated on you, as you beckoned him closer, slowly shedding your clothes and stepping into the dark water. but everytime he thought he reached you, you vanished and he woke up soaking wet, shivering, and alone. in daeron’s eyes, you are ethereal, to the point that he doesn’t fully grasp the concept of you being real in an outside world and existing for other people too. in his world, you just come to him and then you leave, so deep down, he wouldn’t be surprised if one day he sobers up and realises he imagined you.

lighthousekeeper!daeron's visions are not pretty. you know it by the pained winces with which he wakes up in the middle of the night, by the way his hands shake as he reaches for a bottle. he mumbles your name mixed with the names you never heard of, grips you painfully tight in his sleep, refusing to let go. even when his eyes are closed, you can sense the fear that is coursing through his body.

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a/n: i don’t think anyone needs all that, but i just can’t stop thinking about him...

taglist: @valarrsgirl @silkaurum @userhotd @magicmaekar @ladydoebaratheon @smooth-like-crunchy-peanutbutter @alaeratrrn @bleb3 @shaichai @imsonotweird @demodemigodness12

Authors note: Pairing is modern boyfriend Daeron and reader (you). NSFW under the read more. Reader uses she/her pronouns. Thanks for reading <3

#When you first went over to his apartment you noticed there was no food in the fridge. Only drinks. Beer, sodas, Gatorade, Perrier, chilled wine. A handle of vodka in the freezer. The only things in the pantry were some skinnypop corn and stale cookies.

“I can not marry you, my prince.” You reply with a smile on your face as you continue looking at the stars.

“Why not? If you’re already betrothed I will beg the king to let me marry you instead.”

“I am already married.”

“Oh.” He says sadly his arms still around your waist as you turn to look at him cupping his face him your hand. “I apologize then my lady.”